#i'm sorry st followers i've almost run out of material

[cuntyarmand]

*looking into the camera like i'm on the office*

[chalkolate-fr]

Project Constantine

I realize I’d never shared my robo boy’s lore here like I promised, so here it is!

I’m on mobile so I can’t put a read more :/ I’ll add the long post tag though! Hope you like the story!

And since tumblr hates l*nks I’ll just drop his ID and if anyone wants to check out his bio that’d be great! It’s way more organize than this tumblr post anyways ^^:

#48635920

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His body was crafted by dragon hands, shaped into the image of the Lightweaver’s creation. Like the tales of the gods, his creator had molded dragons after their own reptilian image, each breed distinguishable to each other yet still similar.

His mind, however, would be credited to another force. His creator, Argaesia, could not have fathomed or grasped the ability to grant consciousness. She only knew that when she powered up her machine's completed, cold, mechanical body, electrical magic flowed within; although, only one type of magic wasn't enough.

And once again, taking an homage back to the tale of the gods, especially the Arcanist, life was birthed from the machine. Maybe the Arcanist had seen the potential of new life like the machine that created him gave. A wisp of magic, violet and flowing, slipped between the cracks of the door, between the crevices of metal in the machine's body, tangling together with the blue tendrils.

Constantine opened his eyes, electricity filling his veins, and arcane magic shone through the hollow of the automaton. The machine whirred, newborn life flowing through the copper veins.

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"Ah, good, you're awake!"

A voice floats down from a distance, light, lilting and silky.

"You can open your eyes, now, no need to keep them shut,"

His lids slide open, allowing the light of the world to filter through. He scanned his surroundings, turning his head stiffly.

Amber candlelight dotted the room, illuminating the dragon grinning in front of him. The curtains beside him were loosely shut together, letting a few strips of blue morning light inside. Scraps, wires, tools, and metal littered the space, cluttered to no end. The dragon in front of him watched him intently. Numerous pairs of electric cyan eyes focus on him, and the corners of the Spiral's mouth turns upwards when she has observed him for a few seconds, seemingly satisfied. She jots something down on her clipboard. The Spiral knocked on his side, metallic echoes coming from his skin.

"Good, good..." She mutters, looking back up at his face. "much better."

"Now, let's try something... hmm..." The Spiral taps her claws rapidly against the clipboard she's holding, scribbling with her other hand. "Turn your head to the door."

He does as he's told, joints whirring, facing towards the dented and beat-up iron door. She seemed to be satisfied, writing down even more. He assumed she wrote about him on the paper.

"Try to say something to me,"

He opens his mouth, and noticed that the metal of his jaws did not creak loudly like last time before he slept.

"He...llo."

"Needs some work, but you're doing better! Move your right leg, wiggle them around,"

He does so as well, noticing too that his joints don't make noise anymore like the last tests he did.

"Good, now, try and follow me out the door. I'll let Tal see you," she leads him out, ordering him to open the door as one more test, before dashing to the front, waiting for him to catch up. "Act natural; it'd be funny if he thinks you're an actual dragon!"

Funny: causing laughter or amusement; humorous.

He manages a stiff nod, but she didn't see, already sliding out into the hallway, locking the door after him.

This was the first time he's been outside of the room. A wave of heat rises from his core as he follows the Spiral, processing the possibilities; the thought that this is his first time outside jolts him. Soft, off-white lights line the ceiling, the walls golden and immaculately clean unlike the room he's made a stay in since... well, the beginning. The air smelt sweet and fresh, like the flowers that his creator brought in one day, for a test. Another test.

Before long, the two of them enter the through an arch, into a field of flowers. A garden?

The little plants littered the ground, hiding between blades of light green grass; flowers thrived here, planted in an orderly fashion that he deduced to be the work of another dragon. A few trees overhang the garden, bearing still green fruits and olive leaves. Warmth filled the air, the glass dome above keeping the heat and moisture in for the plants. A dragon, curled around a wooden chair, held a leather-bound book in his hands, leaning against the table before him. He was covered in scales of faded jade, different from the dark, bold Spiral he was used to. The dragon before him, another Spiral dragon, noticed the two approach, closing his book after dropping in a bookmark. He raises a brow.

"Who's... this? Not another one of your 'guests,' Argaesia? I know they signed up for your experiments, but you should still tell them what you do first," The male glanced at him flittingly, before shifting his eyes back towards her. "And again, please don't bring me into your shenanigans either. I don't think it's funny."

Argaesia. His maker's name. He took note of that.

"What's... your, name?" He manages to croak out; his voice hasn't been refined yet, still having a gravelly quality, the chords in his throat made of a material too stiff, according to Argaesia. It often caused abrupt stops in speech and for his voice to be too deep.

"Uh, I'm Talos, if you didn't know, I'm Argaesia's brother," Talos reaches out his hand after leaving his seat. "aaand I'd really advise you to just take the money and go home. It's not really worth it. Look what she's done to your voice already!"

"My-y...voice-ce?" His voice stuttered again. Argaesia side-eyed him, muttering to herself while making another note on the paper. "It'-s okay. I-I'm fine. I've... al-ways been... like th-is."

"You sure? You can go home if you really want to," Talos retracts his hand after no one taking it, still offering a slight smile. He seemed kind.

Kind: having or showing a friendly, generous, and considerate nature.

"Sheesh, I'm not torturing him. Again, the dragons I brought signed up voluntarily! I've only had an accident three times, I'm not hurting them on purpose! Stop scaring him," Argaesia defended herself, patting his shoulders. "Right?"

"Y-yeah. She is... a gre-at cre-ator. We do... a lot of... te-sts."

"Creator?" Talos asked. He notices that the Spiral has a pattern of raising his right brows. "What?"

"Uhhhh, well, thank you! So sweet of you! I am a great at...making science! Ha!" Argaesia side-eyed him again. He's not sure he understands. "Well, better get going now, I-"

"ARGAESIA! YOU NEED TO TRY ON OUTFITS FOR THE BANQUET!"

A voice booms from down the hall, making both Spirals jump.

"Coming, Aunt Adela, coming," Argaesia massaged her temples, sighing. She threw her clipboard to him. "Uh, go back to the lab and wait for me to come back."

Swiftly, the Spiral flew off, accompanied by a cacophony of yelling and complaining. Without another word, he followed his order and began heading back down the hallway.

"Alright, see you later, I guess," Talos calls behind him. "Don't get lost, the palace gets confusing."

And after heading into the winding halls, before long, Talos' advice came true. He had not recorded a map of the hallways as he followed Argaesia. He wasn't told to. He clunked around, clutching the clipboard tightly; he couldn't understand what she wrote on it, but he was sure he if couldn't find his way back, Argaesia would write something negative. Disappointment would describe the feeling best, according to his dictionary.

Disappoint: fail to fulfill the hopes or expectations of (someone).

A click of a talon against the marble floor alerted him. He snapped his head around. It was Talos, watching him with a slight turn of the head. He stared back.

"Didn't think I'd run into you again so soon, uh," Talos tapped his chin. "What's your name again? Sorry..."

"I, um..." He answers, gears clicking the best they could, trying to sound normal. He didn't want Talos to think he's... weird. Then again, it was almost a miracle Talos thought nothing of the electric power packs slung over his back, had not heard the mechanical clicking coming from his innards. "Um..."

Heat rose from inside his core from him thinking so hard, before he remembered the clipboard he was digging his nails into. Maybe Argaesia could've recorded something on there, like his name. He flitted his eyes to the first page of paper on the clipboard. Graphs etched from machines, messy handwriting, and strings of numbers covered the paper. He didn't understand any of it deeper than the meaning of the separate words, except for the two words printed across the top of the page:

Project Constantine.

"Uh, are you okay? You don't have to answer if you don't want to..." Talos said.

"Constantine," He manages to say, without breaking any of his words this time. "Th-that's-my na-me."

"Ah, okay! Nice to meet, you, Constantine," Talos smiled, reaching out his hand. "Glad to have a chance to get to know you without having my sister around and messing it up."

"M-me too," Constantine gripped the other's hand. So that was his name now. He has a name like Argaesia, like Talos... "Ye-yeah..."

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