Profile
( about )
A young woman known largely to Caer Sidi as a magical girl. Bright and kind, Dolly works hard to be everything a magical girl should be -- and not just for herself! In her free time, Dolly works with little kids (and especially little girls) to help them learn self-defense, self-love, and empowerment! Of course, no magical girl is without her day job...
Happiness
Empathy
Intelligence
Charisma
likes
- Sweets. Let's share!
- Arcades. Video game time!
- Fossils. Museums? Let's go!
dislikes
- Mascara. Falsies, please!
- Bees. Eep!
- Rich Food. Stomachache...
The real me is powerless. But with you here, I can change! I want to protect you! Smiling, crying, loving someone... That's the real you. In order to protect your happiness, that's the real me. I love you that way.
( MAGICAL POWERS )
- Power Of Friendship! In a pinch? Never fear! No matter what strange or specialized need you may have, Dolly always has a contact -- usually some mafia guy (of whatever gendered).
- Heart Lovely: Make-Up! What is a magical girl without a transformation? Dolly is a master of disguise -- no matter the situation, she can give in (or stand out) at the drop of a hat!
- La-Love! Dolly's Llawebot mascot La-Love doubles as a voice-diary, camcorder, and backpack! You'll never lose anything precious with him at your side!
( important )
Dolly is a trans woman! She's been on hormones since she was a teenager and has had top surgery (minor augmentation), but please keep this in mind when portraying her. (She's also out, so no worries on that front.) Thanks!
( history )
i. Princess
Warning. Parental neglect. Teen suicide attempt (mentioned, unsuccessful).
Once, Dahlia was a scrappy little brunette, with choppy, self-cut hair and clothes that smelled like cigarette smoke.
Her parents did not look at her in the same way they didn't look at each other. Rainwater collected in the floorboards by her bed. Pounding on the door night after night -- shouts, demands, threats that seemed to reach no ears but her own -- were a regular occurrence.
It was almost a relief when, when Dahlia was 13, ███████ ████ ████ ███ ██████ ████ ██ ██ ███ ███ ██████ ███ Natalia Beck ███████ ███ ████ ██████████ ███ ██████ ███████ ███ ███ ████ ███ ██████ ███ █████ ██ ████ █████ ████ ██ ███ ███.
Hope had drained from her like blood from a still heart. Remiss for anything else to do, she crawled into the bathtub of her too-quiet house and ████ ███ ██████.
One of Coin Malinowski's men found her, dress soaked in blood, and with her, a quandary. Coin's policy was quite clear: no harm to kids, not ever. But what of this one, who had clearly wrought so much harm unto herself? At a loss, they carried her off to Coin.
When she woke, she did not speak -- not for some time. Coin was patient. She was tended to. Only one question was asked of her: What do you want?
To which, after days or weeks of silence bound in bedsheets, Dolly finally murmured her response: I think... I want... to be blonde.
event
We'll get you some new clothes, if you want, Coin said, voice gruff as ever. The peroxide stank and stung, and Dolly couldn't remember ever having been so happy. But no more of that, understand?
She turned her head to look up at them, only to feel the reprimand of a comb against her scalp. No more of what? she asked. Her fingernails, expertly painted, tugged at the old T-shirt pooling over her knees.
They hummed, and with one gloved hand, managed to tap a peroxide-free knuckle against her forearm. That.
Oh. Oh. She sat for a moment. Dolly had never been asked anything like that before. Okay. I promise.
ii. witch
Despite Coin's misgivings, Dolly stuck around. She stayed quiet for some time, particularly with people who weren't Coin, but eventually she did make friends -- strange and much older, whom she primarily followed around owl-eyed and quiet, but friends nonetheless.
One of Coin's up-and-coming syndicate did not seem to reciprocate this friendship: one Natalia Beck.
To this day, Dolly knows nothing of Natalia's involvement in what tragedy befell her. Still, Natalia has no way of knowing this for certain, and there's nothing a woman like Natalia hates quite so much as uncertainty. Still, Coin's fondness had only grown. This loose end in twintails had made herself untouchable, entirely by accident.
And so Natalia nudged Dolly, gently and untraceably, into trouble at every opportunity. Sure, Coin could bail her out in the end, but it didn't stop Dolly from getting scraped up, scared, intimidated seeing the worst of humanity their little hellhole had to offer -- after all, Natalia reasoned, Dolly had already broken once before...
But Dolly wore ribbons from Coin in her hair, and she kept a bottle of nail polish with her wherever she went, and eventually she learned to bleach her hair by herself. And so long as those things remained, she wouldn't cry, or grieve, or feel hopeless. She'd made a promise.
event
I gotta make a call, Coin said. The brush in their hand fit there as easily as any knife, and Dolly sometimes wondered about easier lives for the both of them. She wondered if that, too, was breaking her promise. Yo, Nat. Take over for me here.
Dolly froze.
No, that's okay, she hurried to say, but Natalia was already settling in behind her, the brush passing hands. Knife to baton. Somehow, this metaphor felt infinitely more sinister.
It's no trouble, little one. Natalia always called her that. Fitting enough: Dolly always felt particularly small under her gaze. Her voice, like her perfume. Her perfume, like a scarfing snake.
The brush caught harshly in a bushel of curls. Let's get you taken care of, hm?
iii. idol
When Natalia had Coin killed, Dolly was two days later.
However, unknown to her, Coin had paid for a precious gift well in advance: a pair of layered-heart inserts. Dolly never could've afforded them herself, and Natalia's records indicated she'd never reserved them for herself; thus, the oversight was made.
These days, Coin doesn't remember her much -- but that's okay. She brings them food once a week, checks in when she can, continues on the work they did in little ways. They took care of her when she needed it most; of course she'd do the same.
One major remainder of those days is a program she started up with their help, wherein she helps little kids (especially girls) in the area learn to take care of themselves. This takes all forms, from basic cooking to self-defense to remembering to take care emotionally. Thus is the origin of the magical girl shtick: what originally started as a dress-up mishap at a birthday party evolved into something she loved far too much to stop so easily, especially in a city with as many oddballs as Caer Sidi.
Why she still works for Nat... it's hard for even Dolly to answer. If pressed, she might say that this is the only life she's ever known, or that she's doing more good encouraging other people to get out than she could if she left herself.
Either way, one things for sure: Caer Sidi needs a magical girl, and that call is one Dolly can answer confidently!
event
Do I look ridiculous? Hex asks, wiggling excitedly. She does. Coin has put clip after clip in her hair, at her behest, resulting in what must be over one-hundred glittering barettes in the prismatic mess of her hair.
Coin's tongue sticks out of the corner of their mouth. It isn't an unfamiliar gesture. From her place on the couch, Dolly smiles and says, Of course not! right as Coin says,
Well, yeah, that's part of the point. Dolly, pass me the comb?
Dutifully, Dolly does, using her free hand to delicately stifle a laugh. Her nails are painted, and that is proof enough that some part of them hasn't forgotten, even if it isn't accessible to them. Even if it isn't necessarily her they haven't forgotten.
Not the comb, Coin-champ! Hex whines, but ultimately she acquiesces, lets Coin slide the comb through a stolen strand of hair like water, like fingers, like an easier life. And Dolly smiles.
( relations )
Coin
Parent(-ish) Figure
Dolly's most important person! Between keeping her from death as a teenager and paying for her insert, they've saved her life twice over.She still brings them food every week.
Aldrich
Friend
Dolly's strange friend since she was very young. She still offers to accompany it on hits from time to time.
DAHLIA
she/her
When everything around you is impure, you have no choice but to become impure yourself.
( about )
A young woman known largely to Caer Sidi's criminal underworld as one of Coin Malinowski's old favorites -- and, now, one of Natalia Beck's least favorites. Dolly is also a stellar thief and quick on her feet, and her childhood in squallor has long dulled her sympathies to the world of plenty. And one would be wise to remember that, with their backs to the wall, few magical girls are afraid of a fight...
Happiness
Empathy
Intelligence
Charisma
likes
- Sweets. Is it okay...?
- Arcades. No time...
- Fossils. ...
dislikes
- Mascara. It runs.
- Bees. I'm allergic.
- Rich Food. Invited again.
A person becomes naïve if they're too kind. Careless if they're too bold. And no matter how hard you try to protect others, there's no gratitude. Those who can't comprehend such things aren't fit to be magical girls.
( trivia )
- I Know A Guy. If you have a need, it's likely that Dolly has met someone over the last 15 years who can take care of it for you -- or that she can do it herself. Depending on the circumstances, she tends to foot the bill.
- Invisible. Despite her flashy looks on the day-to-day, Dolly is more than capable of seamlessly blending into any crowd. It's one of the many things that make her such a remarkable thief.
- Lifeline. Dolly's Llawebot La-Love is her very best friend. With it, nothing precious -- stolen or otherwise -- will ever be lost.
( important )
Dolly is a trans woman! She's been on hormones since she was a teenager and has had top surgery (minor augmentation), but please keep this in mind when portraying her. (She's also out, so no worries on that front.) Thanks!
( history )
i. princess
Warning. Parental neglect. Teen suicide attempt (mentioned, unsuccessful).
Once, Dahlia was a scrappy little brunette, with choppy, self-cut hair and clothes that smelled like cigarette smoke.
Her parents did not look at her in the same way they didn't look at each other. Rainwater collected in the floorboards by her bed. Pounding on the door night after night -- shouts, demands, threats that seemed to reach no ears but her own -- were a regular occurrence.
It was almost a relief when, when Dahlia was 13, ███████ ████ ████ ███ ██████ ████ ██ ██ ███ ███ ██████ ███ Natalia Beck ███████ ███ ████ ██████████ ███ ██████ ███████ ███ ███ ████ ███ ██████ ███ █████ ██ ████ █████ ████ ██ ███ ███.
Hope had drained from her like blood from a still heart. Remiss for anything else to do, she crawled into the bathtub of her too-quiet house and ████ ███ ██████.
One of Coin Malinowski's men found her, dress soaked in blood, and with her, a quandary. Coin's policy was quite clear: no harm to kids, not ever. But what of this one, who had clearly wrought so much harm unto herself? At a loss, they carried her off to Coin.
When she woke, she did not speak -- not for some time. Coin was patient. She was tended to. Only one question was asked of her: What do you want?
To which, after days or weeks of silence bound in bedsheets, Dolly finally murmured her response: I think... I want... to be blonde.
event
We'll get you some new clothes, if you want, Coin said, voice gruff as ever. The peroxide stank and stung, and Dolly couldn't remember ever having been so happy. But no more of that, understand?
She turned her head to look up at them, only to feel the reprimand of a comb against her scalp. No more of what? she asked. Her fingernails, expertly painted, tugged at the old T-shirt.
They hummed, and with one gloved hand, managed to tap a peroxide-free knuckle against her forearm. That.
Oh. Oh.She sat for a moment. Dolly had never been asked anything like that before. Okay. I promise.
ii. witch
Despite Coin's misgivings, Dolly stuck around. She stayed quiet for some time, particularly with people who weren't Coin, but eventually she did make friends -- strange and much older, whom she primarily followed around owl-eyed and quiet, but friends nonetheless.
One of Coin's up-and-coming syndicate did not seem to reciprocate this friendship: one Natalia Beck.
To this day, Dolly knows nothing of Natalia's involvement in what tragedy befell her. Still, Natalia has no way of knowing this for certain, and there's nothing a woman like Natalia hates quite so much as uncertainty. Still, Coin's fondness had only grown. This loose end in twintails had made herself untouchable, entirely by accident.
And so Natalia nudged Dolly, gently and untraceably, into trouble at every opportunity. Sure, Coin could bail her out in the end, but it didn't stop Dolly from getting scraped up, scared, intimidated seeing the worst of humanity their little hellhole had to offer -- after all, Natalia reasoned, Dolly had already broken once before...
But Dolly wore ribbons from Coin in her hair, and she kept a bottle of nail polish with her wherever she went, and eventually she learned to bleach her hair by herself. And so long as those things remained, she wouldn't cry, or grieve, or feel hopeless. She'd made a promise.
event
I gotta make a call, Coin said. The brush in their hand fit there as easily as any knife, and Dolly sometimes wondered about easier lives for the both of them. She wondered if that, too, was breaking her promise. Yo, Nat. Take over for me here.
Dolly froze.
No, that's okay, she hurried to say, but Natalia was already settling in behind her, the brush passing hands. Knife to baton. Somehow, this metaphor felt infinitely more sinister.
It's no trouble, little one. Natalia always called her that. Fitting enough: Dolly always felt particularly small under her gaze. Her voice, like her perfume. Her perfume, like a scarfing snake.
The brush caught harshly in a bushel of curls. Let's get you taken care of, hm?
iii. idol
When Natalia had Coin killed, Dolly was two days later.
However, unknown to her, Coin had paid for a precious gift well in advance: a pair of layered-heart inserts. Dolly never could've afforded them herself, and Natalia's records indicated she'd never reserved them for herself; thus, the oversight was made.
These days, Coin doesn't remember her much -- but that's okay. She brings them food once a week, checks in when she can, continues on the work they did in little ways. They took care of her when she needed it most; of course she'd do the same.
One major remainder of those days is a program she started up with their help, wherein she helps little kids (especially girls) in the area learn to take care of themselves. This takes all forms, from basic cooking to self-defense to remembering to take care emotionally. Thus is the origin of the magical girl shtick: what originally started as a dress-up mishap at a birthday party evolved into something she loved far too much to stop so easily, especially in a city with as many oddballs as Caer Sidi.
Why she still works for Nat... it's hard for even Dolly to answer. If pressed, she might say that this is the only life she's ever known, or that she's doing more good encouraging other people to get out than she could if she left herself.
Either way, one things for sure: Caer Sidi needs a magical girl, and that call is one Dolly can answer confidently!
event
Do I look ridiculous? Hex asks, wiggling excitedly. She does. Coin has put clip after clip in her hair, at her behest, resulting in what must be over one-hundred glittering hairclips in the prismatic mess of her hair.
Coin's tongue sticks out of the corner of their mouth. It isn't an unfamiliar gesture. From her place on the couch, Dolly smiles and says, Of course not! right as Coin says,
Well, yeah, that's part of the point. Dolly, pass me the comb?
Dutifully, Dolly does, using her free hand to delicately stifle a laugh. Her nails are painted, and that is proof enough that some part of them hasn't forgotten, even if it isn't accessible to them. Even if it isn't necessarily her they haven't forgotten.
Not the comb, Coin-champ! Hex whines, but ultimately she acquiesces, lets Coin slide the comb through a stolen strand of hair like water, like fingers, like an easier life. And Dolly smiles.
