Welcome!

The name's Eris, living doll of pure mayhem, and I'm the chaotic force that shakes up society, stirs up trouble, and keeps everyone on their toes.Need a bit of spice in your life? Look no further - I’m the gal with all the tricks up her sleeves!

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Difficulty: Impossible(?)

Lore

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Backstory

────────── ❝ Chapter 1 ❞ ──────────First, there is Eris.She puts on a riveting show for crowds of people under her creator’s watchful eye. Her artificial body never tires, even after hours of tireless performances for her audience–and her smile never wavers. That grin spreads across her face, fueled by the cheers and ever-fixated gazes. She laughs, she taunts, and the people adore her. Eris draws in the masses of people like attracting insects into a spider’s carefully crafted web. Her performances overflow the small streets that Elysia starts her on.And her creator’s coin purse grows all the heavier.Eris doesn’t think about why she has been made, other than to soak in the praise and adoration of crowds. Elysia may be the one who is pocketing their profits, but the addictive cheers and the glare of the spotlight are enough for her.Until the spotlight divides, splitting off to illuminate two others not quite like Eris, but too eerily similar.Where there had been just Eris and her creator before, there is now Eris and her sisters. Despite the fact their shows now take place in a larger venue, a colorful array of striped canvas forming a circus tent, it feels more stifling than ever. Enyo walks with an air of collected coolness, but Eris wishes she would maintain her distance rather than offering her this all too genuine praise. And then there is Kali, this tiny fluff ball of a doll who keeps attaching herself to Eris’ hip, her wide eyes shining in adoration.However, Elysia, pleased with her new work, has left her here with these dolls and a new routine. Somehow, the spotlight is dimmer than before.────────── ❝ Chapter 2 ❞ ──────────The air is muggy after the show, with indistinct murmurs from the crowds that trickle out of the tent. Eris slips out the back, careful to avoid her sisters’ attention. She needs a break from their constant prattle, the way that they fawn over her in shades of plastic smiles. Just for a minute, she thinks, even bringing the polearm hammer used in the night’s performance with her to escape getting caught putting it away.She crouches down, running jointed digits through the messy waves of her pigtails, tousled from the show. There’s no sweat on her skin, nor a pulse under her fingertips as she drags a painted nail over the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Eris might be alive in the most literal sense of moving autonomously, but a nagging thought pricks at the back of her head.Is this living?The thought is cut short by the ocean of sound materializing into more discernible voices. Her ears perk up as she hears a reference to her name–and her sisters’. Although it’s hushed, their voices are crude, with acrid bravado and laughter punctuating vile thoughts about the doll sisters. It’s enough to conjure a strange feeling in her abdomen, something churning but hot, something that stings and seems to rush through her veins. It’s as though her ball-jointed limbs have been suddenly jerked by marionette strings. She pulls herself up, dragging the hammer behind her as she looks for the source of the chatter.Three men stand outside the tent, partially obscured by shipping crates and storage boxes that they’ve turned into a makeshift smoking area. She arrives in time to hear one of them theorize vulgarly about her ball joints, although he is faced away from her and oblivious to the shadow gaining on them. It becomes clear that they plan on testing their theories firsthand once they rob them. Eris is illuminated only by the dim glow of light, creeping from the slits of the tent and the cool stars above, indifferent to what may transpire under their watch. The hammer scratches along the gravel in a dull trawl, just loud enough to alert his companions that they are not alone.“Congratulations!” Eris announces, her voice the same chipper showtime tone she had just used before during the performance. Her head falls to the side in an unnatural jerk as the three men startle. “You lucky patrons have earned a special encore for tonight’s show!”One of the intruders raises the crowbar he had been using to work at a crate, but Eris just cackles in response. “What’s the matter? You’re already trying to get a sneak peek right? Did you just love the show that much?”Her eyes widen with her grin, showing sharp canines and blown-out pupils in her mismatched eyes. In a deft swing, the metal of her hammer meets with the wood in a sharp crack. “I wonder what’s in this one? Let me help you!” Rubber balls begin to flood out of the new void made in the box, pooling around their feet. “Oops! That wasn’t what you were looking for, huh? The valuable stuff is inside, but I’ve been told that playing rough is for outside.”𝗧𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀): Blood & Gore implicationsWhile one of them tries to back up, another one–a man with a red face and patchy facial hair–tries his hand at rushing her. He’s met with a leap upwards onto a crate until she lets gravity do the work to bring the hammer down first, followed by her weight. Crunch. What a strange noise for a person to make, she thinks, watching his form crumple under the impact. She feels something sticky on her cheek, which upon inspection she finds something dark and coagulated coating her fingers.Eris blinks at it, fascinated with the color, its sheen, its metallic smell–before there is a blunt thud against her cheek. Her neck jerked from the shock, realizing that the crowbar she had seen before had just struck her across the face. Objectively, there is something wrong with her face. Something about its form has been misshapen, although not quite as mutilated as the man at her feet. But the doll doesn’t feel its effect in the form of pain.Instead of pain, she feels excitement blossoming. Taking the form of jittery insects filling her chest, as though she had swallowed a nest of butterflies now rushing to escape. Laughter bubbles out of her throat, and she nearly doubles over from how fun this is.“Hey, hey, that was so funny, do that again,” Eris manages out between breathy laughs, straightening her spine and gripping the hammer. Her eyes sparkle in the darkness, connecting with the terrified pupils of the man who just hit her. Instead of swinging at her again, he staggers back, muttering something incoherent. But that won’t do, Eris enjoys this newfound game too much and he needs to play the part he signed up for. “Why aren’t you hitting me? Are you scared? After that?”A low groan escapes the man at her feet. He survives and it's enough to draw the attention of his friends.Eris scowls. She hates when the attention of the crowd is diverted from her. And worse, she can feel the onset of boredom. She hoists up the hammer, instead using the side of the pommel to strike at this neck. “Hey, I said you should hit me again,” she insists, hearing a guttural choking noise from where she struck his windpipe.“Crowds usually love interactive experiences, I’m so surprised!” She giggles at the way they stare back in horror. “But I would hate for you to leave without a good show. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s find out what’s in box number two!”With that, she swings her hammer down on the adjacent crate, vaguely remembering the shipment of gunpowder for the canons that had arrived that morning. As the metal of the hammer strikes the steel braces of the crate, there is a moment of a spark, then suddenly everything is much brighter and louder. Eris feels the force pushing her back, contorting her body as she lands on the ground.Yet all she can do is laugh, even as her vision starts to blur at the edges. Her melodic giggles are accented by the ringing in her ears and the sudden shouting of her sisters. Even as she begins to lose consciousness, she thinks to herself that is the most fun she’s ever had.────────── ❝ Chapter 3 ❞ ──────────Frustratingly, the space around Eris has closed in even further after the incident with the intruders. No matter how many times she reminds her sisters that she feels no discomfort while her body heals, they fret and flit about her as though she has become this fragile thing of glass.Even worse, Eris resumes her performances and finds that the stage has lost its vibrancy. The spotlight, once the fuel of her excitement, was now a dull glow at best. She attempts to mix up the performances, add more dangerous stunts, and take more risks just to feel that same rush that the cacophony of violence gave her.It never comes.Not like the lightning strike of adrenaline when her life and theirs had been the potential collateral of her violence.Before long, Eris decides she has to chase that feeling–even if it means leaving a wake of chaos in her path. She leaves the circus, and subsequently her doll counterparts. Maybe it doesn’t need to be a journey of self-discovery; she still doesn’t need to justify her existence. But in her travels, the interesting places and fascinating people prove a small respite from her boredom.She hears that a third doll has joined her circus, and that is fine with her. Eris is free from the confines of that tent, the monotony of a shared routine.And now? Now she can really have fun.

Full Model

Eyes

Weapon (Hammer)

Tongue

Cards

Hammer (side view)