Post by j.ajabad on Nov 1, 2014 13:00:57 GMT -5
Adaline Penfinger didn't experience a traditional birth. She was built. Adaline's mother figure built her at the onset of her arthritis in hopes that she may still put pen to paper. A traditonal writer, Elizabeth didn't like using a typing device so she built Adaline.
Adaline or Ad-a-line dictated her purpose and her fingers executed the purpose at the sound of her mother Ebby's voice. Adaline had 10 pen nibs for fingertips and a toolbelt drapped around her waist filled with bottles of ink. Though she was built she was quite life-like and the perfect companion for a lonely old widow who smiled upon her creation like a mother does when she sees her child for the first time. Adaline could speak though she choose not too, whenever necessary. After her mother Elizabeth passed she lived within the shadows of their aging mansion. She spent her days doubled over a large writing tablet yet in the midst of grief's mist she discovered that she could now write for herself. She wrote for hours watching as the words poured from her fingertips, ceasing when the wind blew out her candle. Adaline took that as a cue that it was time to dream. She curled up on the futton and slept. The left over ink stained the couch.
