I have gone to look for myself;
If you happen to see me,
please hold me until I get back.

 - Anon.

Volarian

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?

Background & such

Little is known of the flamebeings' history, as the vast majority has been removed by parties unknown. That wouldn't have been particularly difficult, considering that the lack of incorporated hardware space for long-term memory means she didn't even necessarily have what was removed on her person when it vanished. The imperfectly concealed data-trail led in the direction of the mess, and she followed as quickly as possible. Since then, she's been too busy getting her bearings to inquire about the matter.

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.

The Other Background

This is pretty vague as yet, so it can be filled in or changed as needed. Volarian is aware of little to none of the material in this section.

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

She doesn't seem all that phased by the ultra-subjectivity of certain Televisionaries, though she doesn't know that's what it is. In fact, it's kinda neat. Is this from previous experience with the faction, or just one of the perks of having been an archivist?
- Her future interactions with them will not be a series of extremely dry jokes. Trust me on this.

Parity has been asked to keep a hexagonal crystal, an explanation for which was neither asked nor offered.

Vol can't instantiate properly. Everything she makes arrives damaged somehow.

What is it with her and flowers, anyway?

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.

Colour-Coding

Kinda importaint for a being made partially out of light.

Patterns:

<colour> -> white -> <colour> is a greeting,
<colour> -> near infrared -> <colour> is a farewell.

Expressions:

Purple is assorted positives.
Blue is humour.
Green - discomfort of all kinds
Yellow is curiousity. It's probably the most common.
Orange is abstraction.
Red - variously negative. Anger/annoyance/whathaveyou.

The Mind Within

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.

Of course, the lot of you are free to argue or add on to this summary

Here.

"She seems fine to me." Frostbyte

"Everburning flame. What a symbolism for a creature." Kalki