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salene -> RE: The Junkyard (Cyberphile, Eight Slots Open) (5/13/2014 23:42:23)
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Forum name Salene
Character Name: Ven Flos
Race Artificial life
Inventory A lot of UV screen, night shaders, and phosphoric band aids (They are all used for healing, and keeping Ven safe, as she is very frail)
Abilities Although Ven is extremely frail and delicate, she is also very quick; in mind and body. She can interpret a situation more quickly than a human, and she can move extremely quickly when she wishes. Ven is cannot weild a weapon, for if the blade even slightly pricks her she could die, so she has become an adept thinker. She has very good eyesight and hearing, although those are the only senses she actually has. She cannot feel pain, which can be a disadvantage and an advantage, she cannot eat or taste anything, and she can smell absolutely nothing. Ven can read her opponents weaknesses, and quickly identify how to use it against them. Ven can also take the life form of people who have loved her. So far she has 4 forms. A woman from New Orleans in the 1870, a small soldier boy from World War III, an English Explorer from 1497, and a Jewish baby from 1960.
Appearance She has large, empathetic eyes, that are a strange grey gold color. She has loose, dirty, and torn silk cloths that seem to be almost to the point of falling off. She has light tan skin, with long arms and legs, and a very skinny waist and lower torso. She reminds the casual onlooker of ET, and seems very wise and quiet.
Backstory The night was silent as a cold wind swept across the desolate tundra. Snow blew across the top of the large arching metal dome, making small crystalline shapes across the polished metal. A large hole had been blasted in the side of the dome, and now the once glorious machinery it once held lay in ruins. There was a small stirring in the corner of the dome, and a large sheet of metal fell from it's shelf. A little boy could be seen huddled in that corner, dressed in red and gold clothes. An empty musket lay upon his shoulder, and his black hair was black and matted with mud. His eyes were an opaque grey color, with gold on the edges. A small red rose had been stitched upon his vest, although now it was torn and tattered from years of fighting. The boy stood up, looking from the left to the right in an almost machine like manner. The boy then walked out from the dome, heading towards the illuminated city on the horizon.
The small boy began to stumble across the frozen land, muttering as he went. "Stupid humans, always getting into business that they can't handle. And when they can't handle something, they send people like me to do it." The air bit into the boys exposed skin, but he did not flinch. In fact, the boy did not even notice. "And then they desert me in the middle of nowhere! I am useful, I am a creature of purpose!" The boy, face red with anger and exertion from the trek, turned around and punched a snowdrift, watching as it exploded into small angel like flakes. The boy sat down, breathing hard. He had had one purpose, and he had failed to do it. What kind of a SLF (special life force) was he? He was a failure, that's what he was. The boy, driven by anger and the possibility of failure, stood up once again, and began to walk.
The moon was high in the sky as the boy, now a woman in a large finely embroidered beige dress, with colorful beads hanging from her pail neck, and a mop of black hair done up in a bun with curls coming down the side, finally saw the small frozen trading post. Above the wrought iron gate, a large sign with yellow and green patterns advertised the towns name. Venflos. The woman liked the sound of that, the way it rolled off of her tongue. She nodded once, tucking the name away for future reference. The town was obviously very old. The fence was broken in places, a rat lay dead, impaled by either a sharp object or a dog, and the town guard, an ~50 year old man, sat sleeping, his large woolen cap well over his eyes, and onto the bridge of her nose. The woman snorted. She had truly expected a challenge. This mission would be no problem. Her anxiety was for not. The only real threat that town had was the possibility of news spreading quickly. It was a popular trading route, and there was bound to be some loose mouths in the town. So unless she planned to kill them all, which seemed pointless as it wasn't in her mission description, and it could be dangerous to her, she would have to be sneaky. The woman glided past the guard, and through the town gate into the empty village square. The woman's silver eyes coasted around, like that of an owls, occasionally stopping on one location for an extended amount of time, analyzing every detail so she could find the inventor she was sent to assassinate. Her search ended abruptly as her eyes alighted upon a small shack close to the edges of the town. Burn stains marked the ground outside, as well as parts of broken machines. A steady column of smoke rose from a cobblestone chimney atop the roof.
The woman strode slowly over, alert for that sense of danger she was programmed with. Nothing stirred in the town, aside from the flies feasting upon the leftovers of the nights meals. She had already let the inventor slip from her grasp once, while tracking him in the mountains to the north. The inventor had fled from the camp when he saw her coming, which led to a chase through the hilly and dangerous mountains of Tharjuk. The boy had thought he had escaped from her once and for all, when she was trapped under a spontaneous snow fall. She was back now, after quickly applying a cream to reduce frost bite, and the debilitating effects of the frost. The woman coasted through the door way, making no sounds. Her sense alighted upon a sleeping figure in the corner, and she changed course to head in the direction of the sleeping inventor. Her breath hitched in her throat as she saw the inventor. He seemed to be only 13-14, with frazzled black hair and coal stains on his cheek. His leather riding cloths were torn and ratty, similar to the blankets on the boy. He was shivering. How could she kill such an innocent... child? It was against what she believed in. Even if she was created for a single purpose, she knew she wanted to do more. To be more. So, she left the boys house, closing the door and leaving a thick blanket over the frozen child. Her first step to humanity was a name. Ven. Ven Flos. She wrote Ven Flos on a small slip of paper and slipped it into a charm bracelet on her arm.
Ven had one goal, one reason to live, to survive through whatever was to come. She was going to improve the name of artificial life, to help them be free. And to find out why her creator wanted the boy dead. And the first step was to head back to the place of her creation.
Was that better? And thanks, I look forward to your update!
Also, when Ven was given the shapeshifting ability, her creator didn't know that she had to love them to become them. This is used to further the emphasis on Ven wanting to live in equality with humans.
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