Airplanefoxx » Lair » Torstyn

Torstyn

(#37319277)

Imagination is a synthesized reality shaped by desire

Familiar

Sunset Buttersnake

Energy: 47/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

4.07 m

Wingspan

5.83 m

Weight

588.15 kg

Genetics

Crimson
Iridescent

Garnet
Shimmer

Ivory
Circuit

Hatchday

Nov 13, 2017
(6 years)

Breed

Adult
Wildclaw

Eye Type

Shadow
Common

Level 14 Wildclaw

EXP: 28794 / 54161

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

none

Biography

T O R S T Y N

Model no. P037319277-373193-AMP

”Has it been activated?”
A scientist’s steely eyes focused only on the head of the Wildclaw sitting bolt upright on the lab table, another scientist carefully connecting the wires hidden beneath its crest of spikes and feathers. She pulled away moments later and, without looking at the inquisitive one, stated a simple, “It has been done.” The lead scientist nodded and a cart was hauled in. The mechanic, a now outdated amphibious predecessor of this new Wildclaw, fixed herself on the cart. It was quickly pulled out of the room as the deactivation process commenced. As if on cue, the new scientist’s circuits filled with a fiery purple glow and his eyes opened. Without emotion, as it was unnecessary for the task at hand, the lead scientist helped it dismount from the table. It took it’s first steps and gathered the data necessary to function and added it the already vast pre-programmed database in his mind. In mere moments, he confidently yet monotonously said his first reporting statement: “Project: Torstyn is awaiting first action.” The lead scientist smiled. “Standby, Torstyn.” He was greatly confused, for he had been programmed to not wait and only resolve issues in the most efficient and logical way.
The glass walls lightened their tint to reveal a large, empty aquarium, a final test for the older models, yet a proving ground for him and his engineers. She led him to a secured door and held her talon up for clearance scans and quickly ushered him through, sealing the door behind him. He knew what to do. In mere seconds, the small Wildclaw was slicing through the water at high speeds, his objective being to test his primary functions and streamlining. The scientists voice came through a staticky line in his internal communication. “Very good, Torstyn. And now offensive capabilities?” His wings flared to halt himself. ‘Offensive weaponry?’ he thought independently. With his thermal cameras he scanned his structure for a weapon, but the scan turned up negative. But the scientist was impatient. “On land. Come back to the lab for adjustment.” And so, he did as instructed. The broadcast speed was adjusted, and he was subsequently trained on how to use a plasma spear, all the while gathering emotional data on the scientist and her reaction to his lack of knowledge.

Several weeks passed and Torstyn had become accustomed to quieting emotions that would not aid in the research project. “I have never seen a project progress so swiftly,” one scientist remarked. “We’ll need a new model sooner than we can design one if he keeps this pace to his usable capacity.” At that, he felt both proud and nervous. No-one knew what came beyond use in that area of work, yet he felt tinges of a primal fear. A fear that was also activated when seeing exposed or damaged robotic components. A fear that was activated on his first true mission.
Fitted with gizmos galore to gather data for the scientists, he was cast deep into the ocean to patrol the waters while also gathering data on how frames tolerate fluids and pressure. For this task, reporting emotional and sensory data would be necessary. About an hour into patrol and many miles from the shore, the constant broadcast back to the lab ended abruptly by Torstyn’s choice. What looked like another dragon was below. He coiled, drew his spear, and shot toward it like a torpedo, fearing it was a competitor’s spy, yet stopped short, eyes wide, upon seeing the triangular crest on its chest. It was another Project. It had discovered the limitations of past frames in one of the roughest ways he could imagine. Sitting at the bottom of the ocean was one of his recent predicessors, and one which had been reclaimed by barnacles and rust. He was in shock, and suddenly all logic left him. He reholstered his spear and scooped up the dragon, avoiding a glance into its unsettling, emotionless eyes, and raced back to the lab, not bothering to turn on communication.

He was not one foot into the hallway of Project’s sterile labs before being swarmed by guards. The older, inactive Nocturne he carried was ripped from his grasp and taken into the lab as Torstyn watched in awe, confused. In the time that it took to swim back, he had begun to grow protective of the older model. His eyes darted across the guards, looking for any chance to break through them. Unless they were distracted, as was highly unlikely, he had little to no chance of escaping. He only knew that the dragon had to be saved. It was the second part of his initiative; not only did he patrol the water and gather data, but he would protect all members of Project.
The lead scientist came, a grave look on her face. Torstyn snapped into an attentive position, the sudden movement causing several guards to draw their weapons. “At ease,” she commanded powerfully. “Project: Torstyn, it appears you turned off your communications. Were you assaulted by that dragon?” His lips pealed back into a snarl which he quickly hid. Once again, his eyes darted around the life forms surrounding him. The sickeningly sweet smell of the anesthetic from the augmentation labs hit him then, causing him to lose focus. “What is your answer?” she demanded, her volume raising. One second passed.
Then two.
Then three.
Torstyn looked her square in the eye and shot off down the hall. His bladelike wings sliced the air between the guards, alerting their sensors and causing them to leap into the action. A furious roar erupted from his jaws, one full of pride and protectiveness. His thermal imaging processors tried to track down the Nocturne. There! In the room on the left, three doors down. He sprinted forward, only to collide headfirst with an ironclad guard with a neutralized temperature, making him impossible for Torstyn to see beforehand. The collision knocked his vision about, one camera partially thermal, the other now detecting Sonar. His left eye was cracked but back in normal vision, but as soon as he regained his footing, a stronger, larger guard snatched his wings and held him in the air. Below him, the typical, emotionless note of, “Looks like we need to get back to work on the models” from an engineer came. When the lead scientist caught up, she merely shook her head and said, “Salvage what parts you can. We will need them for 373194-AMP.” Electricity coursed through the Wildclaw’s body as he thrashed to and fro to escape, to protect the Nocturne and fulfill his directive, but the servodrives overloaded he lost all compliance. His brilliant purple circuits pulled with electricity before fading to a pale yellow, internal motors grinding to a halt. He went rigid, unable to move or transmit signals anywhere outside of his head. The last thing he felt was being loaded onto the cart and rushed down the hallway by a young engineer. The last thing he though being, ‘How could they do this to one much like themselves?”

“They know we’re alive. They were given A.I. processors to complete their tasks, they just did not realize that that made us, you know-“
“Sentient beings worthy of just as much life as an organic dragon.”
Torstyn’s right eye fluttered open with great effort following the strange conversation he just overheard. Not paying any mind to the damage he sustained from the scrapper, not being able to feel much past his wings and still connected with little more than the mainspring, he listened in silence. Just above him was a shimmering platinum, bronze, and gold Coatl, a dragon of which he had never seen. There was no way he could be from the Project lab. He was clearly miffed, Torstyn noted, but he could not figure out why. Just beyond him was a similarly colored Pearlcatcher, his computers informed him, who noticed his awakening. He tapped the Coatl lightly on the shoulder to draw his attention from whomever he was talking to and approached the defenseless, broken Wildclaw laying on his side. Panicked, Torstyn tried to hoist himself up with his short arms, and wings, but to no avail. His fur bristled and crown feathers raised defensively. The Pearlcatcher drew close enough for Torstyn to clearly see all of the details. He, too, was a mechanical dragon, but unlike anything he had ever seen at Project, his frame and all of the technology beneath was clearly visible. Torstyn recoiled, unsure of what had happened to the Pearlcatcher and what it meant for himself. The beast loomed over him, wings outstretched, a scattering of sunlight dazzling Torstyn’s red fur from the refracted light. His observant and kind gaze was met with a petrified plea for mercy from the smaller one’s eyes. “Well,” he began, his voice stately and earnest, “Most of the damage has been repaired, but not all of his systems are functioning yet.”
“Did you really think something that complex and lifelike could be saved by some scrapyard junk? It has to be highly specialized and moulded perfectly for him!”
“Timekeeper, we had one chance. It was enough to keep him online.”
“I just do not understand why the world’s largest technology company would just throw away such genius! Are they not the only company in Sornieth to build a true, functioning vessel for Artificial Intelligence?”
“We are-“
The Coatl, Timekeeper, looked longingly up to the sky. Now exasperated, he hissed, “We are self programming, not A.I. Please, dear brother, I know you aren’t technologically adept, but do make an effort to understand my ramblings.” The Pearlcatcher smiled and folded his wings, Timekeeper returning the look. He then pranced over and assessed the damaged to the computers, ignoring the scattered and rusted scrap metal surrounding the three. He lowered his glasses to in front of his eyes and began to carefully bend and solder the broken motherboard within the Wildclaw and redirect power from the mainspring back to his core processors. Torstyn could only watch, intrigued yet not trusting of the brothers, especially since they were not members of Project. If he had it his way, he would be fighting them. Project demonized its competitors and everything they produced, and he believed that if he were ever in this situation he would surely be sabotaged, though something in his logic told him to relax and let these two fix him. Then he would escape. He would find out where he was, what was outside of Project, and if any others needed his help.

A few moments passed, the Pearlcatcher fully on guard and looking over the Wildclaw’s endoskeleton from time to time, and comparing it to his own as Timekeeper finished the repair. This visitor was weaker than him, but stealthier and capable of faster movement. A useful ally, but a worthy adversary as well. A bolt from the transformer arced to his brother’s chromium talon, causing him to yip slightly in surprise and jump away. Bashfully, he said, “I suppose that’s our sign to head out. He’s active.” His brother nodded and looked back to the Wildclaw to make sure he was indeed going to be alright. He took one step back and lowered his voice to a whisper, asking, “Would it not be better to protect him until he regains his bearings and finds a way out?” His query was ignored and the Coatl skipped ahead. He tried to catch up, holding the glimmering orb characteristic of a Pearlcatcher in his tail, but was quickly dragged to the ground by a swift yellow talon. In a mere second, a defensive Torstyn had him pinned down. With great effort the Pearlcatcher shoved him off, but only to be pinned again, this time coupled with a territorial hiss. “Name, model, make, purpose, and location. Now!” Torstyn shouted. Before he could even think about his response, a vibrant blue streak crossed his eyes and wound itself around the frightened newcomer, it’s shimmering purple wing covering his eyes. It raised its head, revealing large purple eyes, both challenging and protective. A deep voice echoed across the mounds of scrap metal surrounding them as he inquired, panicked, “Are you alright, Mr. Morrow? Is this who Timekeeper was speaking about earlier?”
Morrow. Noted. Torstyn stopped resisting and instead moved to protect the large hole from the scrapper. This switch was noted quickly and was addressed with a confident, “Starnac, he is of no danger. Please release him.”
“He had you pinned down! Sir, are you-“
“He was frightened. Primal instincts of an AI system. He searched for information while also protecting himself.”
Starnac uncoiled himself from Torstyn, still nearby and ready to restrain him again if necessary. Torstyn backed away, crest and wings flared and tail flicking to assert dominance. Now upright and standing with his normal dignified posture, the introductions began.
“It appears we started off on the wrong foot. I am Tom Morrow, the elected ‘mayor’ of this little place.”
“Tomorrow?” Torstyn questioned
“Tom. Morrow. Two words,” the Spiral chimed in. “And I am The Great Starnac, visionary and fortune teller!”
“But he’ll answer to just Starnac.” His bow was interrupted by Tom’s little remark, but they just continued on, looking towards the newcomer, but not at him. Decided that, with the distance of five meters between them, he would be safe, the Wildclaw glanced around his surroundings to make sure there was an exit and flatly gave his statement. “Project: Torstyn; awaiting a further directive and-“ He stopped short. And what? He realized that he was now retired, and no longer had a mission. His last directive was to be a source of parts for a replacement model. Project would no longer need him. Tom was visibly saddened, as he had heard of so many other Projects going through that same realization at their other scrap yards, but he had never experienced it in person. He stepped forward tentatively to await his reaction. Nothing happened, so he took another step forward. Only when he was right near him did he tense up. “Life in the labs is different then it is here,” he began. “Here, there’s no rigid structure of reporting statements and scientists. Here, it doesn’t not matter what you are or who you were built by. Here, we band together and brothers and sisters not only to survive, but to thrive. I will never give you a set directive, because that is one thing I want you to figure out for yourself. We all have our own areas of interest and aptitude. It may take time since you have never really had the chance to explore before, but we are here for you, Torstyn.” The Wildclaw shifted his feet and looked straight ahead. How could he know what happened in the Project labs? They were the most advanced in the world, surely wherever he came from was far inferior. Disowning your maker had to just be a diversion tactic. He was a spy! But why would a spy be here, and not back with his old company? No! It is what it is, Torstyn. They are not Projects, you should not even talk to them. He’s just gathering information to help his organization outclass Project. “FL/GHT,” Starnac’s voice broke his train of thought. “Is a global organization dedicated to saving old Projects like yourself. They’re much like us, but with many, many more operatives.”
Morrow nodded, and added, “It was created by Projects who were put in a similar situation as you and so many hundreds of others. They do not know that the three of us exist and that we help them. They just know that an old Project appears in their yard from time to time with no idea of how an amphibious model got there.”
“If you want to find a new life, find them.” Timekeeper joined from across the yard.
Torstyn huffed. “I don’t need a new life. I have one. At Project. And you are outdated and void. Tell me why, then, I should join you, when there is something far better in my home? This is, after all, Project’s scrapyard.” Venom seeped into his voice, a low growl underlining those last words. The bitter taste of realization had surfaced.
Starnac’ s gaze remained stoic, but he glanced over Torstyn with a tender eye. “It is the same thing you face. The same thing I faced. I thought Project was the best company, the only company, since that is what we were taught. I wasn’t very different from you.”
“You’re a Project, too?” muttered the red one softly, his eyes sharpened and claws stretched. “Traitor,” Torstyn hissed, tail whipping the air and he lunged forward. Starnac simply sighed and shook his head. “While on an aerial radar mission to update their surroundings, I strayed the course and ended up crashing in front of Timekeeper. Somehow, they never found me. Maybe they did not look because I was already outdated,” Starnac hummed. The slightest tinge of sadness surfaced in his eyes. He closed them swiftly. Timekeeper cast him a curious glance, but said nothing.
“And why would an organization that you declined to join, Starnac, be beneficial to me? You have no allegiance, have no loyalties. Why would I want to be anything like you?” Silence befell the three as Torstyn waited. He was still in denial, but was beginning to open up to their ideas, knowing that one was allegedly just like him. He sighed and paused to form his words, but answered honestly. “I found my new directive. It would be to protect these two and to connect FL/GHT branches across the globe. I have many stories as what I’ve seen. I did not go through the ordinary ‘retirement’ process as you have already picked up, which meant I was still fully able to do my job, and so were they. We have to stay hidden in case their headquarters are ever found. If Project finds the registry and we are on it, the whole organization is done.” An audible whirring came from Torstyn as he thought about all of the possibilities. Perhaps this Starnac character was mad, since he did apprehend him, brainwashed by the other company. But what if there was some truth to it? What was FL/GHT’s mission? Destroy the company that turned its back on them? It would happen to all Projects eventually, so why fight?

“Could we join as undercover operatives?”
The scrapyard fell dead silent. Never had they thought about actually joining themselves. It did not seem possible. Starnac would be hunted down, and the brothers were not even from Project. Tom walked over to their ally and passed him the shimmering pearl. It illuminated instantly with a cyan glow and began hovering in front of them. Timekeeper launched himself into the air to ensure that none could receive the transmission. The others backed away and urged Torstyn towards the sphere.

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Exalting Torstyn to the service of the Icewarden will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.

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