Pretty Sure This Was The First Thing I Wrote For These Characters - Blog Posts

glass

The sun of Deslotair burned bright above. Stark white blended into yellow, infecting the sky around it. Rays of light stabbed the sky like burning knives, searing the air, cutting through that which crossed their path. Anything that stood in their way bled shadows, patches of darkness spreading from their touch.

The glass robot did not bleed shadows, ey did not feel the burning heat of the sun. Those deadly knives passed through eir translucent skin, shining off the machinery inside, swallowed by the burbling liquid that flowed through eir body. The tip of a spear was held low at eir side, its point gleaming.

No sun stabbed through the skin of the glass robot, but sharp gazes burned holes in eir back.

Whispers floated in the footsteps of the traveler. Suspicious words accompanied by fleeting glances trailed after the figure like wisps of smoke. The glass robot returned their glances with a blank curiosity, unbothered by the restless murmurs of discomfort. Ey simply observed, and walked.

The wooden doors of an old saloon swung open with whining creaks, announcing the presence of the traveler to those inside. Few heads turned, all new blood (the regulars were accustomed to the creaking of the doors, and to the uninteresting passerby they so often brought). Yet they started another round of whispers, and more heads turned to the glass robot, boisterous conversations morphing into a suspicious hiss at the arrival of the newcomer.

The glass robot turned eir head this way and that, returning the gazes of staring strangers with eir own gleaming eyes. Outside the eerie glow was swallowed up by the sun, but here it cast a white halo around the traveler’s face, surrounded by the gentle green glow of the vitrel  that flowed inside of em.

Ey walked.

The glass thudded against wooden floors, steps going unbroken as the small crowd parted to make room for the traveler. Ey nodded eir appreciation, and approached the bar. The bartender stood up straight. The robot she had been talking to, sitting on one of the hourglass stools with an untouched drink in front of him, remained perfectly still.

“Well,” the bartender started. She set down the empty glass she had been holding, put it upside down on the counter so its rim kissed the wood and left a ring of moisture. “What can I get ya?”

“Nothing to drink, thank you.” The glass robot spoke with eir hands, the fluid inside of them twisting and shifting with each movement.

The bartender eyed em warily. “Uh, sorry, I don’t know what you’re sayin’...”

“Nothing to drink, thank you.” The glass robot repeated the same motions as before, only slower, hands making clear arcs through the air.

“Ey doesn’t want anything,” the robot spoke up, nodding to the bartender before turning to address the glass bot. His eyes glowed a faint blue, piercingly contrasted with the hazy brown light that filtered through dirty glass bulbs above them. Tubes curled around him, jutting out from the fabric of his vest and wrapping around his joints. “What are you here for, then, if not a drink?”

Saloon

Glass and Sprocket's first meeting, way back when. Added a couple of ports for Sprocket's tubing to flow through, which makes a hell of a lot more sense than them just kind of sticking out at his joints or junctures in the plating. Better for consistency's sake too.

Tags: @glacierruler