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Personal Style

Apparel

Highland Scavenger
Brass Steampunk Vest
Brass Steampunk Wings
Brass Steampunk Spats
Nurtured Cluster
Gem Thief
Cairnstone Carry

Skin

Accent: Mechanical Enhancement

Scene

Scene: Sunparched Prowl

Measurements

Length
5.65 m
Wingspan
5.23 m
Weight
525.04 kg

Genetics

Primary Gene
Orca
Ripple
Orca
Ripple
Secondary Gene
Moon
Butterfly
Moon
Butterfly
Tertiary Gene
Cream
Stained
Cream
Stained

Hatchday

Hatchday
Jul 24, 2018
(5 years)

Breed

Breed
Adult
Skydancer

Eye Type

Eye Type
Light
Common
Level 1 Skydancer
EXP: 0 / 245
Meditate
Contuse
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9

Biography


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - B A I K O N U R -- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The train comes in at three forty two
A week before the launch window.
Few eyes watch as the workers unload
the streamlined bomb
from the flatcar.
Floodlights shower it with brilliant light,
pure as though from Heaven itself,
honorably as a flag flown at night.
The train departs.
On the first day, the obelisk is left alone.

During the next days, more men and women come
to prepare the offering for its journey.
The umbilical is connected,
Every bolt, every weld is checked
one last time.

(Every curve and angle has been calculated
and tested
and examined
and rewritten,
rebuilt,
retested,
again and again in the years leading up to this launch.
No detail has gone unchecked;
the vehicle rests in the hands of Fate now.)

The comes the payload, on the fifth day,
a replacement for an older satellite;
once a temple to human ingenuity,
now old, derelict,
aging in a graveyard orbit.
Its true form will be revealed only in orbit.
It is wrapped in protective material
that shines gold in the sunlight.

On the sixth day, the fuels are added.

And on the seventh day, Man created light.

At zero o three that morning,
all flight controllers were checked into the blockhouse stations
and in a distant Mission Control.
Every circuit, sensor,
gimball, thruster, bolt,
is checked one last time
for the sake of the payload.
At oh-four twelve,
the launchpad is evacuated.
And at oh-five eighteen,
the statue comes to life--

its fuselage,
covered in inscriptions of some human language,
is alit by the four boosters below it,
operating in symmetrical tandem
to deliver nominal thrust to the obelisk it delivers--

A beast of sun and storms,
bringing an early dawn to the wintry lands below it,
letting clouds cover the sunbaked earth it rises from,
unleashing thunder upon the silent world it escapes from.
It opened its mouth and woke the world
With a deafening roar,
Shaking the foundations of the Earth
And the hearts and souls of the blockhouse controllers
Who stood in silent witness--

But the beast was irredeemably hindered.
A tie had not been fastened properly
in the payload fairing,
and the satellite began bouncing up and down;
pogo oscillation, they called it,
writing their script in the flight director's log--

and then, the obelisk brought a brilliant dawn
to the people in the land surrounding the launchpad.
The sound hit first,
and the shockwaves hit soon after.
The offering had been denied,
but the sacrifice yet made.
The controllers gathered their papers, analyzed their data, and left.
There would be no mission to orbit today.

As the sun rose again the next morning,
Crews were already cleaning up the wreckage
And analyzing the cause of the disaster.

On the eighth day, Man brushed off the dirt and built anew.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

xxxxxxxxxxxxx
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