(POV:) Jemima, a Living Doll

You wipe your hand in a handkerchief as you leave the sounds of battle behind you. You had unfortunately lost sight of Tina in the impromptu ruckus. A gentle sigh leaves your bright lips as you continue on to lunch.

‘I do hope she is alright. Perhaps I should not have stepped in.’ You ponder as students rush past you both towards and from the sounds of carnage. You consider trying to track her down but without any idea of her destination you're entirely lost. And there is so much of the place that you do not wish to see.

This was really not your intention. You abhor ****. Or at least the variety that leaves a body count and viscera in its wake. But to see her there, pinned to the wall and trembling, you felt rather protective. Tina is the only person you’ve really talked to here, though not for lack of trying on your part.

There is just something about you that seems to affect people strangely. After even a brief encounter, often before even a sentence is shared, whomever you are attempting to converse with tends to get irrationally uncomfortable. Some sort of physical reaction to your presence.

You have a theory on why. Holding your hand over your chest, near flat by design for perfect dress up, and keep it there. Nothing. No breath, No warmth. No Heartbeat. Apparently that was not too unusual in hell, some kind of bonding ritual you had discovered. Though the cause is usually something lost, you simply never had it.

You enter the cafeteria and absentmindedly collect a selection of food from what is available. Thankfully your meals and living arrangements are paid for by your benefactor. Whomever that is.

Halfway through your meal, it seems you had grabbed some kind of purple egg like items, a flat bread like meat and a single raw carrot, you see the ragged survivors of the brawl make their way in. You notice the massive figure of the troll you had sicced upon Tina’s tormentor. She walks past your table, her regeneration in the process of retracting a dislocated eye and sewing the surrounding flesh together.

She notices you and gives a lopsided smile and a half severed thumbs up. You return the gesture, if not the expression, and it occurs to you that you should probably learn her name at some point, at least in the event you have to throw more problems into that particular meat grinder.

Your Fundamentals of Magic class is set to start soon. Although as far as you have seen you seem to lack any aptitude for magic. It’s likely your benefactor took a “throw everything at the wall and see what sticks” approach to the choice of classes. Not that you particularly mind. All you can do is follow along at this point. You certainly owe them and it’s not as if you had any ideas or plans after they had pieced you back together.

Your mind flashes back to the nightmare you suffered through last night. Memories of pain, loss and fury. Followed by a high velocity wake up call. Honestly you felt thankful to Tina for the interruptions to your psyche’s self ****.

“I should look for her.” you mutter to yourself. In the short time you have known her she has not exactly struck you as all together there. With any luck she’ll have headed back to your room. If not… well, you’ll figure that out after you check.