fixingpxople

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{ + ahealingpolka }

      ❝What can I help you with? I don't      see blood so I'm assuming you are      not feeling well?❞

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{ the thing with oc rp blogs is i'll make them, but never do anything with them }

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"Well I have plenty of scraps, yes. What is it specifically you need? I've got woods, metals, clock wheels, cart wheels, chains--anything that could be made into a prosthetic really," she stepped aside, waving for him to follow her to her work desk covered in bits and bobs, and old doll heads. "Even a few spare glass and wood eyes. I can't give every scrap away though because I tend to not know when I'll need these things." She improvised, sometimes.

"I—ah, actually—do you—I wasn’t sure, see, I heard that you might have a few scraps of material. Items and stuff that you might not use much. I’m an artist, and I’d like to get some materials, ah, if you don’t mind, ma’m. I’ve got money, if you’d like me to pay."

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One main difference between the book and the movie is Jack’s heart itself. In the movie, it’s removed and replaced with a cuckoo clock. In the book, a cuckoo clock is attached to it. This blog follows the book in this, where a clock is attached to him, however the effects in the movie are used, but not to an extreme (where one kiss could kill him), and not as some psychological trick like in the book. 

This is something I believe in when I read the book, and for those who have read the book, you do not have to agree. In the book, I believe Madeleine could be considered a psychologically abusive parent toward Jack. For this blog, I’ve somewhat included this, but not to an extreme, and not to the point of the book. I’ll explain why I consider her to be this below, be warned as it may spoil the books ending for you, and it’s rather lengthy.

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Tried to take some pics of Madeleine’s house! They’re not crystal clear, (and sorry about the pause button there!) but they’ll do. It’s more or less so you guys can get an idea of where Jack grew up. In the movie, they only show the main/entry area, which has the kitchen, dining, and living area along with Madeleine’s workshop. There’s also Jack’s small room with green wallpaper. Those are the only two places shown in the film, so that’s all I could grab. And yes, those are live fish in the pillars by the stairs. Madeleine’s work table is seen in the first one with all the doll heads and clocks.

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{ + thewishemporium } 

     ❝Wipe your feet please. It's muddy      outside. What need's some fixing?❞

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{ + fantasticmr-fife } 

     ❝Well, I certainly don't see anything fatal.      What do you have; a broken bone, a crooked      eye? Perhaps a backwards spine or...?❞

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fierysprite:

By the  way she was reacting, Acacia assumed that Jack hardly talked about her at all. This worried her, but after hearing how protective she was of Jack, she wasn’t surprised. 

Acacia had made her way to the other side of the table, but she didn’t sit down. She honestly felt a little uncomfortable even being in the house in the first place. 

"It’s.. Acacia. I have no idea why he wouldn’t tell you my name, honestly." Of course, she did know. The name that she used with everyone; even with Jack, was a stage name. She hadn’t used her real name in years, and she would sooner die than begin. Acacia wasn’t exactly the most normal name, and the lack of a surname made it all the more suspicious. 

Madeleine laughed, scoffed really, at her statement, but it turned to a frown. This was not towards the girl's name though, rather to the other half of what she'd said.

"It's nice to meet you, Acacia," she supposed, "Nice to finally put a name to the face. He probably didn't tell me your name though because he knows how frustrated I'd be with him for breaking his rules." His hearts rules.

In fact, now that she though on it, had Jack told Acacia them? "I'm assuming he's told you the...limits...of his heart?" Now she was genuinely curious. She'd be more angry with Jack than Acacia if he hadn't. Dr. Madeleine was not a fan of liars, like most people.

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{ my computer is being so unbelievably slow with tumblr lately i can't get anything done without hissing in anger }

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❝Every beat of your heart is a minor miracle. You're a fragile little piece of work❞

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AKA, you start with icons, I’ll probably respond with icons. You make it clear you prefer prose, I’ll make sure I’m up for prose when I reply and I’ll try to keep my word count within range of yours. Just want oneliners? Easy peasy.

please reblog if you're an adaptive roleplayer.

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Psyche it is then, she thought quietly with content, a small smile displaying her quiet content. Her own blue-grey eyes dashed about the home with Psyche’s.

    “I suppose so, I just like to help people where I’m able,” even if her help only stirs rumors. “Fix things,” she spared a glance to her mechanical table. The exact same on that she placed infant Jack on, before he had a cuckoo heart. “Though I think my way of fixing people is why some would call me a witch.”

A small hint of laughter.

Ridiculous.

     “No worries for you I’m afraid. Your wound does not require any sort of specific fixing,” she pointed to his wound as cleaned it, “You seem to know what you’re doing. Tell me if you need anything else, or if you actually do need stitches.”

She typically did this sort of work for free, though some did pay out of gratitude. If she really needed money for something though, then she’d ask for payment, however it would be a low cost.

Lucky for Psyche, she wasn’t in any need of money for the time being.

       ”Hmm what did I hear once… News told, rumours heard, t-truth               implied, facts buried…? Never much of a gossiper myself.” 

He stops for a moment, doubting his memory while looking at the floor contemplating it. With a small shrug he goes back to his previous actions of cleaning and dabbing the wound while contemplating this time on if the tree had been out to get him from the start-

                                            -Poor timing and attention I suppose.

When he looked back up at the approaching woman he glanced downwards for a moment before returning his gaze up-

                                        -It does need stitches you feather brain.

       ”It’s n-nothing personal really. Just a bit of a fear I developed from                           past… eh hem… e-experiences.”

He nibbles his bottom lip for a second before continuing.

       ”Pleased to meet you Madeleine, I just go by Psyche l-lately…”

His small smile widens a bit as he looks around with a hint of interest at the contents of the room.

        “Well you certainly have t-the contents to be one.”

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fierysprite:

"It is a nice sound," she agreed. The ticking of a clock had quickly become a comforting sound to hear. It just may be her second favorite sound (her first being the rain). She couldn’t imagine however, when all of them went off at once. 

"Oh, I’m alright, thank you," she said, walking more towards the table, close to where the stairs were to Jacks room. "We.." noticing a tense mood fill the air quickly, she tried to think of a way to back pedal her sentence. No way out. 

"Jack and I.. ate, before he left." 

"I...see," it took a lot more strength than Madeleine would have liked to hold back a grimace. By the sound of things, Jack's subtle visits to this little singer were a normal thing. Funny. The woman took a seat at the table, being sure to grab the one closest to the stairs so she could have a good view of the front door.

"So, I've never heard your name, surprisingly. Jack is always calling you the Little Singer when he does talk about you," though clearly he tries not to. Whether to not let Madeleine worry or to keep secret? She did not know.

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She always loved black cats. Received a black kitten for her 5th birthday and has loved them since. Her current cat, William, she picked up from the streets of Edinburgh, and she repaired an old pair of her own glasses to put on the cat so he wouldn't be bumping into everything

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Madeleine went to her small kitchen in the corner of the room, and set about getting the young man some tea. It was a type of orange herbal kind she was fond of, and made it many times for patients and herself when she was ill with some annoying cold.

     "Of course. I do my best to make visitors, whether they're patients or friends, comfortable. I try to dissuade the rumors that float around about me, but I can never make them completely disappear it seems."

The kettle was set on heat. Madeleine retrieved an old mug with a chip on its rim. William, her cat that sported a pair of glasses, appeared now. As usual when she was making something in to eat or drink.

     "Not for you William, you've already been fed."

The water boiling, she poured the other's tea, and herself some too. Coming over to the other and his wound, a small frown fleeted across her face. He didn't want stitches, she had to remind herself.

     "Here you go. You never introduced yourself, you know. I'm Madeleine. Some call me Doctor, though I've never officially claimed as such."

       ”Just a t-tree…”

He mumbles the words not quite knowing if it was a actual question or just a lighter statement. He took the cloth with a small nod of thanks before hesitantly sitting on the spot cleared for him.

       ”You’re quite kind to do this.”

He gives a small smile to the other trying to subdue the growing worry of being bad company. Biting the inside of his lip at having do deal with a injury, he looks at his side adjusting the clothing to look at it better before answering.

       ”T-Tea would be nice, if you don’t mind of course… Not much of a                         drinker as you said.”

Keeping the small smile he examines the wound, before ripping the fabric only enough to expose the cut better.

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fierysprite:

Acacia stood in the doorway awkwardly, letting Madeleine rant before she stepped inside. Wiping her feet as she was told, the first thing she noticed was the absurd amount of clocks there were scattered throughout the room. The constant ticking made it so there was never a moment of silence. It was a wonder how anyone got any sleep. 

"Thank you," she said now, stepping in so that she wasn’t just standing at the door anymore. "You have a… lovely house," she started, hoping to break the ice and get her out of this sour mood. 

"Thank you," Madeleine placed the hat atop the dining table, someplace she'd know Jack would see it, even if he decided to act like he didn't. "I'll admit I've thought of getting rid of all the clocks, but I've come to like the sound." Plus, in some sense she felt as though it'd helped Jack as a child. He tick tocked with other clocks, it was okay.

"Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee, cocoa, tea?" she couldn't keep her hands still, pinching her skin on the fingers, not entirely sure how to address the girl that caused Jack's heart to tick out. There was a stubbornness to the doctor though. Something resolute. "I'm sure I have some biscuits somewhere if you're hungry."