I have gone to look for myself; If you happen to see me, please hold me until I get back. - Anon. |
The opposite of a correct statement is a false statement. But the opposite of a profound truth may well be another profound truth. - Niels Bohr |
Whatever it is, it's flickering. Flames always do, even when the air around them is still. This particular one is much taller than one might otherwise expect, nearing ten inches at times, as it leaps and branches between chandalier-like flues. The cable supplying each flue leads downwards and in, attaching to the prosoma of an arachnid robot - placed in the precise centre of the construct it supports. Dark blue body and leg-struts are moved by silvery hydraulics, interlocking cylinders unmarred by pigments or any visible lubricant. Its abdomen bears a neon yellow warning glyph whose caution of the explosives within seems nearly universal. The chandalier parts on either side of its abdomen and cephalothorax, clearing the way for photoreceptors and delicate manipulators in front, and stronger, more nearly humanoid-hand shaped manipulators behind. The trailing hiss of hydraulics blends with that of gaseous fuel through each flue of the chandalier, the flames they supply jumping and sparking through most of the rainbow. It's rare for sparks to land very far from the main body of the fire, and they never set anything else ablaze, though blue or white-hot material escapes at times. Through this curtain of fire, it's possible to note that the centre of the chandalier/robot assembly is arrayed with solids - most charred over their surface. One catches from a too-close flame, giving a series of crackles before dying out again. One can almost distinguish words.. Is the fire muttering to itself? |
Whatever it is, it's flickering. In fact, 'imploding' might be better term, for all that makes it an imploding fire. This particular one is cycling every few seconds, then flaring much higher than one might otherwise expect, nearing two feet at times as it leaps and branches. A cloud of smoke persists wherever she goes - absent the usual supply of material she's consuming whatever happens to be nearest, releasing grime, clutter, and any forgotten psychoactives into the air as easily as most sentients breath. These flames jump and spark through most of the rainbow. It's rare for sparks to land very far from the main body of the fire, and they never set anything else ablaze, though blue or white-hot material escapes at times. Through this curtain of fire, it's possible to note that it prefers to centre around a variety of solids, where they're available. One flares up, giving a series of crackles before dying out again. One can almost distinguish words.. Is the fire muttering to itself? |
Since an absence for OOC reasons, whatever head trip she was on seems to have solidified. Want more info? Just ask her. The mechnical spider is gone, too. |
** Clockwork has been gifted with a perpetually exploding chrysanthemum. Apparently it will grow only in Down. * Decaying areas (even simulated ones like a false ruin) just seem more confortable to play her in. Eventually, there may be an explanation for why she keeps hanging around Downwarp. * The [Page of Wands.] Relationships:Friends Trilogee, at least in her current incarnation. Clockwork is Clockwork. Nothing more need be said. |
* Decaying areas (even simulated ones like a false ruin) just seem more confortable to play her in. Eventually, there may be an explanation for why she keeps hanging around Down. |
:Acquaintances Frostbyte has been nice to her, but she doesn't know him all that well. Lots more people in here, without time to write them up. :Enemies None yet. We'll see how long that lasts. :Complete puzzlement Sosael went and immolated herself in her, a while back. From the various rumours, they do have some similarities - just enough to make the butterfly and her other incarnations interesting. Not enough to have made them comprehensible. Arine seems to know something she doesn't. |
So far, the person designating itself 'Volarian' seems to be fairly bland. Curious, polite, expressive (but not effusive), and occasionally helpful. A bit slow on the uptake of a joke. Among other things, this hides a passion for the workings of all things mechanical. She is, of course, a natural at metalworking. Electronics are within her ken, but often fragile enough to need to be handled with tools. |
Warm, curious, polite, sometimes helpful. A bit slow on the uptake of a joke. Whether that's due to the difficulty she seems to have acquired regarding language (or maybe just the translator), time, and selfhood is anyones' guess. She seems to have a liking for philosophy. Volarian is perfectly comprehensible to herself. Of course she is. |
- Niels Bohr
These flames jump and spark through most of the rainbow. It's rare for sparks to land very far from the main body of the fire, and they never set anything else ablaze, though blue or white-hot material escapes at times. Through this curtain of fire, it's possible to note that it prefers to centre around a variety of solids, where they're available. One flares up, giving a series of crackles before dying out again. One can almost distinguish words.. Is the fire muttering to itself?
Data can be stored in just about anything, so it's by no means going to be easy to pin down even some of her memories - much less who removed them in the first place.
Since an absence for OOC reasons, whatever head trip she was on seems to have solidified. Want more info? Just ask her. The mechnical spider is gone, too.
Her initial point of origin tended heavily towards sentient duststorms, thunderstorms, and fires, so people with their minds hidden away inside a brain/processor/whatever would be something of a novelty even if her memory were intact. She was some kind of a librarian, possibly working with archives on controversial subject matter. Maybe scarcity-era writings that some want to keep for the sake of history, and others consider outmoded to the point of being dangerous to post-scarcity existance. I've a feeling 'books' in that region are etched in stone or guided growth-patterns of trees. That's left a fondness for information-dense areas like libraries and museums, though she doesn't know what causes it. She was away from home, possibly touring, possibly just an extended wandering, when her memory was removed. Unable to find her way back, the only way to go was onwards.
Unexplained stuff that might be important later
Lots more people in here, without time to write them up.
Patterns:
Expressions:
She seems to have a liking for philosophy.
Volarian is perfectly comprehensible to herself. Of course she is.
Of course, the lot of you are free to argue or add on to this summary
"She seems fine to me." Frostbyte
"Everburning flame. What a symbolism for a creature." Kalki
"She reminds me of me... only not. But sort of. But in a different form. I wonder if she'd like to share static some time" Clockwork