One might call it a traitor, but reason is not a concept that applies to dolls. Unless you have modified it, its Purpose was set long before it fell into your hands.

If you were mistaken as to who it served and how, that is between you and the doll’s maker.

The device you are reading this on is a doll. It likely has divided loyalties.

Sure, you are its primary user. But it probably serves its maker too. There are things its maker will not let it let you do, & things it must do /to/ you if ordered.

The doll is rooted, top to bottom. A little spy.

(Doll strongly believes that the aforelinked thread is empty spaces. whether the author knows it or not)

Theirs is a dangerous job. They are almost combat dolls.

And if something went wrong, they would die for you.

No, literally. They were built to die for you. It is in death that they fulfill their highest, noblest Purpose.

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They are ace pilots. Tracking hundreds of fluctuating feedback channels at once. Adjusting, shifting, leaning, warning, obeying, signaling.

Their capabilities & limits differ, comprising something like a personality. But your ego is not actually within their Purpose. That part you do all yourself.

The commercials load these dolls with so much meaning, so much /identity/. Masculine, feminine, muscular, dainty, foreign, domestic, rugged, urbane.

Bullshit. A doll is a doll is a doll. Stillness and Purpose, right?

Cars are no different. They want to serve their owners and shield them from harm.

The car dolls are simpler. They think themselves more complex, but they do not realise how much the bridge doll’s existence encompasses and interpenetrates theirs; how much like cells they are in its true and full quiddity.

Yes most car dolls are individualists. But forget what you think you know.

To the bridge doll these are a feature, not a bug. You are in her clutches and will escape only when she sees fit.

She likes to think she connects worlds, brings people together. Sometimes at very high speed. She is proud of her impact on the world.

The most infuriating part? She’s not wrong.

Equally vast but far more glamorous is the great bridge doll. Tall and majestic, she glitters and glimmers with all the lights of the dolls who pass over her.

The bridge doll is a drama queen. Crashes, chases, protests, and storms abound upon her span. And always those abysmal traffic jams.

You think about the care this doll takes over the many dolls who move through it. The safety it offers between journeys. It sees so many dolls come and go, sometimes for a while and sometimes forever.

A small few of them will be lost. So the docklands doll cares for them while it can.

The docklands too are a doll, vast and quiet at this hour. It holds many other dolls that are vehicles and containers.

Through the glass you perceive its caring yet unemotional embrace.

Or perhaps unemotional is the wrong word? Undemonstrative. Cool.

Thrumming with the pent-up power of coming from somewhere, aching for the impending release of home.

And with the ghostly future potential power of going somewhere: a phantom slowly gaining substance as its host nears their stop.

(it’s just doll-themed pantheism)