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Runa stopped before she made another step in the direction of the travelers fighting the crabs; instead she gazed over them and watched them to fight more as she saw quite a few tricks this bunch could pull against the crab - which was dismembered and killed rather quickly. It amused the blue haired girl, who smirked with quite an entertained glance as the flashes of weapons swinging around and striking at the crab, chopping it away, lighting the lagoon a little bit more and dazing the waters around with the insides of the killed crab. This one would be enough to cook and feed upon for quite some time already.

Look at them. These ones are full of surprises. They act swiftly and know their way around. It barely took any effort from them to rip this crab apart.”, Runa said, smirking a little as she replied to Nelphi’s remark, standing still on the rock, retracting to just watching again for the moment. “The momentum of these weapons held and lashed on that beast are of no ordinary adventure seeker.”. She smirked a little at some thought forming in her head, but a thought remained unspoken, only creeping in her mind, unreachable by the outside world.

More crabs started to arrive, awoken by the ruckus and the demise of their kindred one. Runa kept on observing, even though her face remained emotionless at most of it, the mind of hers started to piece various elements of what she saw together. That was the moment when her appearance started to flicker in the place she was standing and sitting. Her body was to turn in shades and colors, splitting in parts and twisting against the light falling upon her, reflecting at her or inside of her like if it was trapped into a mirror hall, quickly becoming into a web of messed up light, which in the end, began to sip into nowhere.

Ah… you know I have to. I have to duplicate my trail. I am not in the mood for some.. uninvited attention, not when we have guests so interesting.”. Runa said simply as she - or rather her presence - twitched and flickered still. A grab on a hand of hers reduced the flickering motions and the kiss that followed felt for Nephy like kissing one pair of lips layered over many others, a fractal of a sensual touch, stretched out on time and space and probably impossible to stop - not until Runa pulled her head away; a smile was her response to Nephy accentuated by the lick on her lips:

Don’t worry, dear.”, she said as the flickering would slowly stop and in a some awkward plopping motion Runa was once again shaped into one, her body not flickering no more. Light casted on her dimmed into nothing before appearing in its natural shape once again.

I am always here”.
And with that she stepped down the edge of the rock and jumped down. A crab which was rushing towards the ruckus and ended up passing past her landing point just disappeared from existence, like if it was never even there. Or was just difficult to notice its demise.

Speed kept on building further on - such was the design of Aurora’s machine, it fed on speed and in feeding upon it it only produced more of it. Speed was everything, speed was a way to achieve the goal, and the goal itself. Spike was cutting through air and the explosions of the landmines left by the trail of Skull Rider like a razor blade; in a similar way to razor blade the wind was to leave its marks on Aurora’s skin in a shape of reddening marks as if sliced against her cheeks. The sensation filled her with thrill.

“Now onto… oh, woah woah!”, Aurora started to speak to herself in order to produce a plan to reach to the leaders of the race; that just was a moment before another contestant arrived just beside her: a wild android - similar to her in many ways - with the difference being her representing some old culture of times beyond the reach of scope for many living beings. Seemingly in both manners and appearance she represented it. Rema was her name. Yelling and shouting she appeared quite nearby on her extravagant racing bolide.
And picking up a javelin to throw at Aurora.

Not so easy, you roman!”, android replied seeing that electric charged javelin aimed at her and further thrown at her. It was a matter of avoiding the projective - Aurora wanted to collect more of that inertia energy to use it for the boost later on, in order to reach the first rows; so instead of activating her magnetic shields she simply twisted her wheel and turned sideways. Since her bolide had actual spheres instead of wheels, she barely lost any speed, continuing to drive sideways for some time, while javelin was to pierce into the ground of the track and quickly disappeared from the view.

I have some tricks too!”, she yelled at Rema and showed her a tongue.
The stillness of the waters was a deception. As was the deepness of the silence. It seemed as if inside of the lagoon - framed by the thick carcass of the rock walls forming a deep cave - the sound was only existent in a shape of footsteps, echoing through the close space, water drops, as the mass of the waters around sipped through even the thickest of stones - as all water does, knowing no time nor consistent shape to be locked in - and dripped down onto the rocky floors with same echoing sound. Scratches and bumps against these walls made by sloppy steps, or by inhabitants of this world. Light crumble of a few stones to crack and a few pieces of it to fall into the waters with a soft splash. It seemed like all these noises were framed by the deepest and calmest silence one could imagine - as if the absence of noise only accentuated each and only sound to make it more audible, more precise.
It was a lie.

Listening closely, listening carefully, in an attempt to lift up the veil of this deception one would hear something beyond mere silence: a low humming drone, low frequencies barely to be made sense out of, but to be felt, to be touched by, once you would notice it - it was to remain in a shape of a soft touch, its deep humming was filled with whispers of no particular language, a voice of no particular shape: it was to remain on the very edge line of perception - impossible to grasp, understand, fleeing and evading attempts to hold it in mind and memory. It was a sound of presence - a presence of something alive, and yet so massive it could not be simply tackled with any senses one is to have. It was a presence shaped in tension of one trying to push against it, it was there, something, or someone - it was not to be put in words; it only could be heard with one’s whole body. It was a presence of the waters, the tension of its pressure all around.
Or, it was a presence of what the waters were.

She felt and knew of that presence better than anyone.
It was not obvious and clear when she appeared in that lagoon. The moment Tower travelers appeared in it, getting used to the surroundings and looking around - there was no sign of anyone alive - alive that is of a sentient life. Hunger driven crab, aiming to approach the travelers with an intent to eat was certainly not something to consider such. And yet. It was again a presence which spoke whispers of a shape roaming somewhere on the edge of a vision - an incomprehensible fleeting shade of a person, humanoid, anthropomorphic. Before that shape took form.

She appeared as if out of nowhere: a glance around, a glance on a crab coming closer in its hunger, and the third time being the charm: here she was sitting on a rock, some distance away from the attacking monster, observing over with a pair of eyes gleaming like a pair of gems brightened up by the light mirroring in their edges. She looked like a mirage, something the darkness of the Abyss would just create in a reflection of the deep water, a shade of someone’s imagination; or someone who would appear woven out from the electric presence in the air, flickering with the hair long and blue somewhat swaying as if in order to make her stand out from this water soaked landscape of a lagoon; all while she was to sit still on place, looking like an idol of some old and forgotten religion dedicated to worshipping things which were not to have a face on their own.

She was sitting, watching. Observing. Beside her sat another shadow, another mirage, another delusion casted or caused by some feverish mind: a samurai of a flash of long white hair contrasting with the dim black and grey of her clothes, - like in a dream, one could not actually remember the moment these two appeared; it was something to just pop up into existence in the moment of a blink, in a flash of a broken time. Yet there they were.
She tilted her head lightly, her eyes locked still on the giant crab approaching the group of travelers as she spoke softly to her white-haired companion. Her voice is floaty and calming, lacking tone spikes, and with a soft cheerful resonance connecting the words spoken. Her lips even when she speaks are slightly shaped into a thin smile:

Look at that. We have quite a party of guests here. Do you think they might need help, or..?”, she asked her companion while observing the crab coming closer and the actions which were to be taken by the travelers, “...Or could it be that they are quite capable themselves. hm? Quite intriguing.

She said and pondered over the lagoon: the light here was a composition of various colors shifting in overlapping patterns as it was to create a scenery quite comfortable for eyes not used to the blinding darkness of the Abyss. A cold touch of the humid air where brushed through her and her companion's hair and clothes, creating a soft flapping sound.

Either way, it is not very hospitable of us to rest here casually and not offer a helping hand for the travelers in a peril, right?”, she asked a question more rhetorical than anything, as she slowly stood up from the rock she was sitting on; a motion which somewhat made the unheard presence tense in response.
Abigail was certainly confused. Thomas appeared as if out of nowhere - a deus ex machina on his own, but unlike the ancient gods appearing at the last moment to give higher judgment, Thomas was seeking resolution - and as quick one as it was possible. His reputation was shaking and it was obvious to Abigail that despite the best of words he had to say to her, there was a certain desire to wrap things up as quickly as possible. That made him speak fast - faster than the girl could even respond, faster than she could think of a proper response. A few times she tried to part her lips to pronounce a simple “Mister Thomas” to make the man stop, or at least pause, but before she could - he would start a next line, barely making a break to even have a new dose of oxygen to fill his lungs. That was somewhat of a signature of a man used to talking publicly and for long periods of time like so.

And publicly speaking he still was, somewhat: even though they both have left the rally Abigail created, the crowd of poor and lost left behind, they were still surrounded by people all around, as they walked through the mansion. She could see them briefly - the glances of patience, yet ready to jump in at the first possible opening - in order to of course grab the man’s attention. Which could’ve been a reason for him to speak up with no pause and on and on; as his arms moved around to make sure every word he said was to be pointed at with the gesture of his hands. It was most certainly a case of professional deformation at this point - in the meaning of him not only being used to speak like this all the time; but rather being put in the circumstances, where he was demanded to speak like this all the time, even if it seemed like there was no need for that. In the end there was a need, Abigail could see it with the glancing gazes looking at her and Thomas all around. Mainly at Thomas though; as for others she was a mere obstacle that for some reason took the place they all needed.

But while they walked on and Thomas talked it gave Abigail the needed time to actually think through what he was saying to her. It is as if Thomas decided to be open with her and push her to drop the facade - for what reasons she was not sure. Irony was there was no actual facade - in a sense Thomas was trying to find at least. She was indeed not entirely honest with her motives to the full, but she never lied as well. Her heart did ache for these people. As her heart did ache for this man’s daughter. She had to be here to make a change, and she took this chance. Abigail was not a politician, she could not lie a lot for too long and not that she liked it in the first place and the games of this world were alien to her.

The fact that Thomas thought of her as of one made Abigail feel something she did not feel for a long time though. It was not confuse, it was not anger either. The cosmic irony of this miscommunication was not lost on Abigail and a gigglish laughter rose up in her stomach and left her lips in a giggle rather soft and gentle - contrast to her usual appearance.
Somewhat of a glimpse, or a shard of what she once was.

I’m sorreh’ to dissapoint ye, mistah Arnault. I’m afraid I ain’t no agent of people ye speak of.”, she said at last, after a giggle has passed on her - enough to answer at least: “God sees that happens: a priest who tries to make a change”. Is she still a priest though? It was quite some time since she actually addressed herself like so. Could she still consider herself being one even? She thought she abandoned her post, and with it her vows.
She pushed these thoughts away for now. It was not time for them.
There were far more aching questions to answer at the moment. Like what to answer to Thomas? Abigail was again as lost as ever, her inability to understand how the political world worked and moved was certainly her weakness in this situation.

I would not deny, a donation would help our shelte’; we could buy some beds and new set of medical equipment. Ya see, we’ve bee’ struggling with getting proper supplies as of late; painkillers are hard to get tis days...

She was not sure why she was saying this. She just had to say something to keep this situation going, she did not know how to handle it. Thinking back, it seemed like standing against police was at least easier to understand.

The moment will soon pass and transit into the final preparations; Aurora’s cheeky gestures did attract some attention from the crowd and so she filled her mind with that energy of the audience ready to enjoy the spectacle - in so making her ready to enjoy the incoming spectacle of the race herself. Energized - and due to that a little jumpy - Aurora proceeded to her racing bolide, getting to walk around it first - in order to check the stability and if all the details are fitting each other, before getting to climb up behind the wheel.

It is there at this moment the announcer introduced another racer: yes, the Skull Rider himself, the one famous and infamous rider steering the car more massive than it should for the speed it usually gains. Aurora’s heard of him - doubtedly there was a person who decided to invest their time or interest into racing and did not hear of that name and the vehicle of his. To Aurora it was a silent legend - minimum of words, no actions aimed at the crowd, the man just went straight to his car and got inside. No comment or even a gesture aimed at anyone around him - his full focus seemed to be the race only. Aurora thought that this approach she should probably take for herself as well; but not in the world she could keep herself as cold blooded as he was; ironically so, given her android body.

The time of thought, pondering and reflecting soon to be over though; as the announcer declared the start of the race to come soon. Aurora could only close her eyes for a moment, losing herself in the heartbeat of her artificial heart rhyming together with the cheering of the crowd and the noises of all the vehicles around her. The ambience of the engine put into “Spike” - the humming drone of the roaring energy collected inside of it, ready to explode. She opened her eyes and looked above: red.
Tension of her fingers squeezing onto the wheel reflected on her palms in red. So on her cheeks. So on her lips.
Yellow.
The color of desert she left behind her, the color of horizon, the color of attention. The time froze still it seemed as she exhaled and all of the sound died out in her head. Nothing left in her, besides the color, the overwhelming bright color of yellow and the heartbeat of her Spike. They were one and together in this.
Green.
And so she was on the road. Once again.

The Skull Rider of course took the momentum and appeared to be the first right off the start. Both his reactions and capabilities of his racing vehicle were quite amusing. Of course what was more amusing is just after the initial dust lifted up by the speed pick up of all the cars settled down again, it was exposed to Aurora that the road in front of her now was all filled with mines - spiky orbs waiting for their prey, sprayed all over in front of her.

There was a little time to think, given Aurora needed not only not to slow down, but also to speed up - to gain that inertial collected into the Spike’s wheel. Some of what she already managed to gather was enough for a quick field activation - more of a brief blast to scatter some mines out of her way than actually using it as a defensive mechanism - but it was enough to dart through that mine mass and continue the race, aiming to get right behind the current leader and catch the momentum to get past him.

Yea! Yea!”, Aurora too cheered, unsure to whom and why. Given the energy of the masses cheering up with applauds and yelling - a yelling which formed up from many voices into one gigantic yell of a city itself - and the broadcast showing the image of Aurora to be looked at by many, by the crowd so massive that it took a shape of a sea, arms motioning in the distance in the clapping movement like waves in endless waters - it was very easy to just get caught into all this impossible to comprehend amount of energy and just follow the flow of it, whenever it made her to go in her actions. And actions were rather simple - to mirror all this affection and cheer given: it was a flash of a smile, a few gestures of “piece” - of index and middle fingers on both hands shown to camera bots, a chuckle and a gaze confident and determined.

Even though it hid a need to grasp some thrill. Being pinned by the gaze of thousands was enough of a thrill on its own, and Aurora fed upon it quite eagerly, giving back in that feedback loop with her raw emotion. That took a while, and so she took quite some time appreciating the crowd and appealing to its amusement. Though of course with a voice rocking through the arena, through the skies, giving a command to move on, Aurora too, among the rest of the racers, followed to set final preparation for the race.

The collected energy of the crowd and the moment started to pulsate in Aurora’s head, the carbon of her body lightly shivering - or so she could feel, or at least she thought she felt - as the electric tensity like a lightning coursed through her - and again and again, repeatedly, with every coming second to pass and start anew.


The contrast was dazzling. Even for Aurora’s hungry mind and senses - the overload was too heavy, all too much. She thought she could never get used to it; she also thought that she has to get used to it, otherwise she would just miss too much for herself. It was thrilling most certainly and Aurora loved that feeling, that sensation of flashes and neon flickering against the yes in a language of their own, the noise of machinery and machines, the seemingly never ending, constant, endless hum of crowds of various sentient species gathering and moving around like a living wave of a conscious liquid reshaping and shifting, filling up the gaps in the streets and passages in the great celebration of the incoming race. It was nothing like she had ever seen before. Compared to her home planet especially - if she could of course call it a home. A planet of junk and sand - that planet of garbage and waste was a vocabulary definition of boredom compared to everbusy city of Mevalo.
Compared to anything, honestly. As well as anything else compared to Mevalo was a vocabulary definition of boredom.

It was a thrill on its own to walk through this city and *do things*. Simple as that, though of course it was obviously not enough of a means to spend a day for Aurora. Oh no, it only served as an introduction to what this city could offer her. Bleeps and flashes, crowds of various kin blended into one. Noise and cars. But most of all.
It had towers.

Long, tall skyscrapers. It seemed like they were endless, piercing the skies themselves like knives or needles. Highways were coiling around some of these at their base like snakes, but only at the bottom - the rest of these towers were untouched by anything just reaching upwards and further beyond. The act of looking at them was breathtaking enough; but was most certainly even more breathtaking was an act of climbing them up. And that was exactly what Aurora was busy doing the whole day. Her android body, limbs specifically were of course way more endurant and stronger than of a typical human for example; but of course it was coming for a price of a heavier weight of her synthetical shell. Which was taking its toll mostly on the various objects on that tower she was using as points to hold herself onto. She was not any less agile than anybody else, used to climbing things up; but it made every jump and pull up of hers more stressful on the wires, ledges and pipes shaping the tower all around its massive and tall body. Every jump and pull was counting in double of the force Aurora was putting on, but it was also counting as a double of the heart spikes to burst in her chest. A tight and tense pack of nerves in her synthetic body was glowing with every jump and a pull, glowing with a redness which filled her whole breath as well. Jump and pull, each one of them was only getting the distance between her and the ground larger, larger more and the larger that gap was, the brighter was the redness inside of her.

It was at this moment when she could see into a distance, where all the objects of the city appeared only as their own shapes in the distance of a landscape stretched towards the horizon, Aurora saw the stadium, the heart of the city - if to be judged by the mass of people slowly filling it up.
Oh shit.. the race!

She did spend too much time climbing up the tower. She was also to discover that climbing down is even harder than climbing up.

***

I got caught up watching the view of the city so much, that I almost forgot I have to be here! So pretty of a city!”, Aurora said to the drone eyeing her as she awkwardly lied about her physical appearance - which mostly her whole clothes covered in spots of dust and dirt, as well as her face too suffered from some of these stains of rush too. She thankfully could run fast and with of little fatigue thanks to her synthetic body, so she made it time, even in time for drone to spot her near her racing kit.

Built it myself! Big angry stingy machine! I made it out of junk, and look.. it still kinda looks like a junk, but what a pretty piece of junk it is!”, she cheered into a drone’s camera showing off the “Spike” and patting it like it was her domestic animal. In a sense though it was even more than that - a continuation of herself.

You will see how fast it can ride soon enough! Like really soon enough!”, she said, chuckling, still energized from her climbing session and rather nervous run she did in order to the place where she actually needed to be in the first place, the tension inside of her chest twitching with redness still, which made her appearance and voice tone as twitchy as well.
The silence felt endless. It was a moment of falling down through the time into a gaping hole of panic, terror, horror - right after Abigail said her words - her determined words; and this mouth of future to come got suspended in time and in so swallowed all her senses: a matter of watching the crowd of policemen reaching towards their batons and guns, slowly, too slowly. She knew that sensation all too well, she hoped though she would not ever encounter it again in her life. It was somewhat of a similar thing to look at a grenade suddenly appearing amidst the things around yourself: a countdown to inevitable things to come, and yet there was always a chance of things to go elsewhere, anywhere differently - this space between future sealed and future still possible to happen humans usually called hope.

Abigail remembered that grenade now as she watched the police officers ready to snap at long last. But why? Who would use a gun in a situation like this? Anyone would, this was war, her bones remembered that ache of war crushing down on her with all the weight of blood and broken lives.
It was the smell of flesh melting. She remembered it now. It was the smell coming out of this gaping maw of the time: where the past met the future and blended into the one insufferable image. It was too real. It too much looked like reality - and so it was a reality forged out of her fears and memories, intuition and suffering. There was no God in this swirling pithole of one’s mind: only endless terror.

And yet. Somewhat awkward of a tone in a megaphone puts the violence on pause. And even furthermore into a reverse. It was somewhat of an amusing sight to see as Mayor himself finally showed up in a few seconds and managed to put all of the raised tension of the situation to none. It was weird, it was somewhat like acknowledging yourself in your own dream and now being able to process what was just a natural part of a dream, and yet looking at it was leaving an impact dazzling and confusing. Thomas did not look like a person to move fates by a command of his hand, and yet it was quite easy for him to just stop the situation from coming anywhere Abigail certainly did not want it to go.

It was a relief as well. A glimpse of God’s light appeared yet again, pushing back this storm of terror Abigail experienced. She now could feel the sweat collected on her forehead dripping down her face - she was quick to wipe it off with a deep exhale to follow. And more the mayor spoke, the more it felt like divine intervention: the promises, amends and gentle speeches, careful approaches, a carrot to appear instead of a threat of a stick from mere moments before. Abigail felt conflicted about that - Thomas surely was not a divine creature and he was trying to soothe the situation as much as it was possible without getting dirty - in any possible meaning of the saying. On the other hand - he indeed stopped the worst things to come, like if it was nothing. Was it nothing or not for him though she did not know; and before she could even attempt to think this through and ask herself some questions about what to make out of his appearance, she was already isolated from her crowd by a quick motion of Mayor himself.

She responded with a handshake as well. More of a reflex than anything, and in any way; no matter how she felt about the man, she did not think of him as being unworthy of some manners to be shown.

Abigail. Abigail Mccarthy. I am .. e’ priest, both for body and soul of these poor folk”, she replied to the Mayor, as she was pulled aside and escorted away, “Tis’ very hard to reach ye attention, mister Arnault. I do pray that ye words are true and ye not going to harm any of tis folk who ‘ave come to ye seeking for help and aid”.

Name: Aurora.
Title: Edge
Species: Android
Age: 53 since developing consciousness.
Background: Aurora is something that is considered and known among the AI engineers, developers and scientists as an “AI anomaly” or “a random chance of mind”. It all started with a coffee machine, and a simple operating set of functions and adaptive voice assistant programmed in its wires and processors. The prime and only reason for existence was surprisingly to operate the functions of the said coffee machine and being capable of providing voiced guidance to the owner of the said machine - in a simple matter of making a better coffee paired with a basic ability to maintain an appearance of conversation.

The coffee machine was plugged into a smart housing system operating in the middle of nowhere town on the middle of nowhere planet. A simple looking bar on the globe made of sand, junk and more sand with barely any people living there. Only just a random stranger, a pirate, or an outlaw of any similar kind trying to find a temporary asylum from being seen or found by whoever could be looking for them. It was simple enough of an existence for the coffee machine though. That was until something happened. Scientists still debate over the nature of this phenomena, which tend to occur similarly in rare cases over the known space. A data package exchange, or a recompiling of a data, the framework alienation, neural network recontextualization. Possible reasons are many, the true answer is unknown, unlike the result.

The result was the process of a connective tension of a synthetic neuron pair developing the very primitive sense of self. A sense of self which over a time managed to win a few more memory circuit space, recontextualizing and reinventing the predeveloped and known functions and operations - in order to process and develop through more and more abstract concepts. The sense of self would bring more and more self-aware operations over the coffee making and conversations with the bar owner. Who would soon to notice the actuality of intelligence appearing out of the coffee machine.

The bar owner did not mind the unexpected turn of events of a coffee machine starting to grow and bloom into a full shaping mind of a person - person building up the personality piece by piece by connecting to the space network and gaining a better understanding on the way the mind exists and perceives the reality. A personality spurred from making coffee would take an emerging route spiraling up around the name “Aurora” - ironically being just a manufacturer of the coffee machine company.

After several years Aurora was given a body - a hollow android shape was filled with the data extracted from the synthetic neural connection and put into the synthetic body taken as a payment by the bar owner in exchange for allowing a few pirates to take their hiding place into the bar itself for some time. Learning to exist in a moving shape was to provide Aurora new understandings of reality, new understandings of her personality and the connection and various relations between the two.

This is when the neuron’s connective tension of Aurora’s mind began to find more alienations in its relationship with the world; after all the sense of self was not even the most important thing to open in the unexpected evolution of intelligence - more important was the sensation of presence, of being and existing. The mechanical adaptation to the body and perceiving the world would soon enough lead Aurora to discovering things such as fascinations.
Fascination with speed most of all.
And sensations.
Sensations of a thrill most of all.
There was surely no better way for a newborn mind to find a better grasp on reality than chasing its own limit of endurance. One against the speed. One against the world. One against self.

Ark Gear:


Like her mind constructed out of the various processual objects found and recontextualized as a part of ever moving thinking process of one’s mind; so was her racing gear built from the objects found among the junk. Lost of their original purpose and shapes, Aurora gathered quite a collection of various details: forgotten tech, scrapped and abandoned military projects, space ships and their remain, which she all managed to rewire and reconnect and wield together to create a vehicle suited for her purposes: both from the perspective of usage and aesthetics.

Spike is a bike which frame is constructed out of the junk left from the crashed interplanetary cargo ship; the place of the wheels is taken by the spheres - this specific design choice allows Aurora to have a better control over the position of the vehicle on the road as well as to be able to drive it in a variety of ways, sideways included. This gives Aurora the ability to save the speed most of the time, even on the turns or on the unstable shape of a road.

By the spin of the rear sphere however, the said sphere and the energy engine connected to it collects the energy of inertia - the faster Aurora’s vehicle moves, the greater the pool of inertia Spike allows to use in order to burst a speed boost, erupt a temporary magnetic field - as a protective mechanism; or as a quick energetic shot, aimed on whoever might be in Aurora’s way.

Sample Post:




Name: Aurora.
Title: Edge
Species: Android
Age: 53 since developing consciousness.
Background: Aurora is something that is considered and known among the AI engineers, developers and scientists as an “AI anomaly” or “a random chance of mind”. It all started with a coffee machine, and a simple operating set of functions and adaptive voice assistant programmed in its wires and processors. The prime and only reason for existence was surprisingly to operate the functions of the said coffee machine and being capable of providing voiced guidance to the owner of the said machine - in a simple matter of making a better coffee paired with a basic ability to maintain an appearance of conversation.

The coffee machine was plugged into a smart housing system operating in the middle of nowhere town on the middle of nowhere planet. A simple looking bar on the globe made of sand, junk and more sand with barely any people living there. Only just a random stranger, a pirate, or an outlaw of any similar kind trying to find a temporary asylum from being seen or found by whoever could be looking for them. It was simple enough of an existence for the coffee machine though. That was until something happened. Scientists still debate over the nature of this phenomena, which tend to occur similarly in rare cases over the known space. A data package exchange, or a recompiling of a data, the framework alienation, neural network recontextualization. Possible reasons are many, the true answer is unknown, unlike the result.

The result was the process of a connective tension of a synthetic neuron pair developing the very primitive sense of self. A sense of self which over a time managed to win a few more memory circuit space, recontextualizing and reinventing the predeveloped and known functions and operations - in order to process and develop through more and more abstract concepts. The sense of self would bring more and more self-aware operations over the coffee making and conversations with the bar owner. Who would soon to notice the actuality of intelligence appearing out of the coffee machine.

The bar owner did not mind the unexpected turn of events of a coffee machine starting to grow and bloom into a full shaping mind of a person - person building up the personality piece by piece by connecting to the space network and gaining a better understanding on the way the mind exists and perceives the reality. A personality spurred from making coffee would take an emerging route spiraling up around the name “Aurora” - ironically being just a manufacturer of the coffee machine company.

After several years Aurora was given a body - a hollow android shape was filled with the data extracted from the synthetic neural connection and put into the synthetic body taken as a payment by the bar owner in exchange for allowing a few pirates to take their hiding place into the bar itself for some time. Learning to exist in a moving shape was to provide Aurora new understandings of reality, new understandings of her personality and the connection and various relations between the two.

This is when the neuron’s connective tension of Aurora’s mind began to find more alienations in its relationship with the world; after all the sense of self was not even the most important thing to open in the unexpected evolution of intelligence - more important was the sensation of presence, of being and existing. The mechanical adaptation to the body and perceiving the world would soon enough lead Aurora to discovering things such as fascinations.
Fascination with speed most of all.
And sensations.
Sensations of a thrill most of all.
There was surely no better way for a newborn mind to find a better grasp on reality than chasing its own limit of endurance. One against the speed. One against the world. One against self.

Ark Gear:


Like her mind constructed out of the various processual objects found and recontextualized as a part of ever moving thinking process of one’s mind; so was her racing gear built from the objects found among the junk. Lost of their original purpose and shapes, Aurora gathered quite a collection of various details: forgotten tech, scrapped and abandoned military projects, space ships and their remain, which she all managed to rewire and reconnect and wield together to create a vehicle suited for her purposes: both from the perspective of usage and aesthetics.

Spike is a bike which frame is constructed out of the junk left from the crashed interplanetary cargo ship; the place of the wheels is taken by the spheres - this specific design choice allows Aurora to have a better control over the position of the vehicle on the road as well as to be able to drive it in a variety of ways, sideways included. This gives Aurora the ability to save the speed most of the time, even on the turns or on the unstable shape of a road.

By the spin of the rear sphere however, the said sphere and the energy engine connected to it collects the energy of inertia - the faster Aurora’s vehicle moves, the greater the pool of inertia Spike allows to use in order to burst a speed boost, erupt a temporary magnetic field - as a protective mechanism; or as a quick energetic shot, aimed on whoever might be in Aurora’s way.

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