The circuit in the sky was the result of an accident. The Arcanist and the Stormcatcher were at a diplomatic meeting after their flights tried to kill each other, and things were more than a bit heated. The Arcanist and the Stormcatcher were both about to fight it out. The exalts from each flight were smart enough to leave the building. The Arcanist and Stormcatcher attacked each other, after many insults were thrown (No wonder you're so bad at meetings, Arcanist! You can't even talk to any dragon since you're too involved with yourself! And you don't even realize what you're making your flight do to themselves, Stormcatcher! You don't even have a brain! You're just a robotic monstrosity!).
During the battle, right as the Stormcatcher released his most powerful lightning
bolt yet, the Arcanist used a very powerful spell. The two attacks met, causing a massive explosion of electric magical energy, turning into a magical constellation, only viewable once every millennia at the spot the battle happened.
Also Scatterspark's story is amazing I like it a lot
The circuit in the sky was the result of an accident. The Arcanist and the Stormcatcher were at a diplomatic meeting after their flights tried to kill each other, and things were more than a bit heated. The Arcanist and the Stormcatcher were both about to fight it out. The exalts from each flight were smart enough to leave the building. The Arcanist and Stormcatcher attacked each other, after many insults were thrown (No wonder you're so bad at meetings, Arcanist! You can't even talk to any dragon since you're too involved with yourself! And you don't even realize what you're making your flight do to themselves, Stormcatcher! You don't even have a brain! You're just a robotic monstrosity!).
During the battle, right as the Stormcatcher released his most powerful lightning
bolt yet, the Arcanist used a very powerful spell. The two attacks met, causing a massive explosion of electric magical energy, turning into a magical constellation, only viewable once every millennia at the spot the battle happened.
Also Scatterspark's story is amazing I like it a lot
Wyvern /\ FR+3
Any pronouns but it/its >If I made the thread, I'm subbed!
>Feel free to ping me, I don't mind!
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/24365851][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/243659/24365851_350.png[/img][/url]
“Easy now, and… it’s done!”
“Hey there, bro, whatcha working on?” [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/29074928]Dubstep[/url] asked, causing the Pearlcatcher’s ears to flare in surprise. He relaxed once he turned around and saw it was only his boyfriend.
“It’s an automatic star chart! It works on a clock that tracks the movement of stars to show all constellations that are visible at the time, even when the storms come back!” Kyele preened. “Plus, the graphics are high-quality, if I do say so myself.”
“So if you turn it on right now, it’ll show us the constellations that we’ll see tonight?” Dubstep asked.
“Yeah, that’s what should happen. I had to go through a lot of old Desert Stars records to figure out what constellations appear above the Shifting Expanse, because you can’t normally see the stars. So if my research is correct, then we will. If not, then… I’ve kinda gotta rewire a bunch of stuff so I really hope it’s correct.”
He flicked the switch on the side of the machine… and nothing happened.
Kyele sighed. “Welp, time to call up an old friend.”
—
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/24429446]Dantonia’s[/url] head was stuck in a golem’s chassis when the students arrived. He pulled out, oil splattered over his face, with a cheery “He-llo!”
“Hi Dan!” Kyele said. “Do you have some time to look at one of my projects? It’s not working for whatever reason.”
“Of course! Just let me wipe my face first. Can’t go showing up looking like a mechanic, you know.”
—
“So this is your problem child, huh? No worries, I’ll get it in a jiff!” Dantonia immediately unscrewed one of the side panels and entered the machine, crawling between wires and circuitboards.
“You know, I’ve always wondered why Stormcatcher made Ridgebacks so… big,” Kyele said. “I mean, look at Dan! He’s able to crawl [i]into[/i] the machines to make repairs! Why didn’t Stormcatcher think of that?”
Kyele’s thoughts were interrupted by the whir of a machine come to life, and the flash of light as a certain Spiral was electrocuted. “Whoops, shoulda turned it off before going in!” Dantonia said.
“Hey there, bro, whatcha working on?” Dubstep asked, causing the Pearlcatcher’s ears to flare in surprise. He relaxed once he turned around and saw it was only his boyfriend.
“It’s an automatic star chart! It works on a clock that tracks the movement of stars to show all constellations that are visible at the time, even when the storms come back!” Kyele preened. “Plus, the graphics are high-quality, if I do say so myself.”
“So if you turn it on right now, it’ll show us the constellations that we’ll see tonight?” Dubstep asked.
“Yeah, that’s what should happen. I had to go through a lot of old Desert Stars records to figure out what constellations appear above the Shifting Expanse, because you can’t normally see the stars. So if my research is correct, then we will. If not, then… I’ve kinda gotta rewire a bunch of stuff so I really hope it’s correct.”
He flicked the switch on the side of the machine… and nothing happened.
Kyele sighed. “Welp, time to call up an old friend.”
—
Dantonia’s head was stuck in a golem’s chassis when the students arrived. He pulled out, oil splattered over his face, with a cheery “He-llo!”
“Hi Dan!” Kyele said. “Do you have some time to look at one of my projects? It’s not working for whatever reason.”
“Of course! Just let me wipe my face first. Can’t go showing up looking like a mechanic, you know.”
—
“So this is your problem child, huh? No worries, I’ll get it in a jiff!” Dantonia immediately unscrewed one of the side panels and entered the machine, crawling between wires and circuitboards.
“You know, I’ve always wondered why Stormcatcher made Ridgebacks so… big,” Kyele said. “I mean, look at Dan! He’s able to crawl into the machines to make repairs! Why didn’t Stormcatcher think of that?”
Kyele’s thoughts were interrupted by the whir of a machine come to life, and the flash of light as a certain Spiral was electrocuted. “Whoops, shoulda turned it off before going in!” Dantonia said.
They say the world is one Great Machine. Every observable natural phenomenon has a purpose. Every Flight, fighting for dominance and territory and control, all serve the Great Machine. We may not know it. We may not like it. But that is the way of things.
What is that purpose, you ask? That is something only the Gods know. What exactly is Stormcatcher gathering so much lightning for? What discoveries has the Arcanist found in the sanctums? What secrets does Icewarden hold deep beneath his glacial realm?
It is not for us to ask. Why concern yourself with divine matters? A machine can not run without every piece working in perfect harmony. The greatest creation can be made inert by one loose gear. The gear does not know what it is a part of. It sees other gears to its right and left, it spins as it is designed to, and it never sees the output of its work. It never knows what fantastical potential it contains.
We are small parts, child. We do not see the output of what we do. We follow Stormcatcher’s orders. He too, follows some greater orders unseen, blueprints that the Great Machine has laid out for all things. And, like clockwork, we follow.
This constellation is a reminder of our place in the world. You see a circuit in the stars, but the truth is they are everywhere. Magic ley lines are just wires. When a machine overheats we cool it, thus the domain of water roils against fire. The energy we collect is destined for so much more than we can imagine.
And at the center of it all, you.
The Machine could not work without you. Your life is precious, invaluable. And all you have to do, is be you. You are enough.
(For this one I wanted to do a creation myth kind of thing, and something a little shorter bc I've had a few long ones. I'm enjoying reading everyone's entries [emoji=coatl happy size=1])
They say the world is one Great Machine. Every observable natural phenomenon has a purpose. Every Flight, fighting for dominance and territory and control, all serve the Great Machine. We may not know it. We may not like it. But that is the way of things.
What is that purpose, you ask? That is something only the Gods know. What exactly is Stormcatcher gathering so much lightning for? What discoveries has the Arcanist found in the sanctums? What secrets does Icewarden hold deep beneath his glacial realm?
It is not for us to ask. Why concern yourself with divine matters? A machine can not run without every piece working in perfect harmony. The greatest creation can be made inert by one loose gear. The gear does not know what it is a part of. It sees other gears to its right and left, it spins as it is designed to, and it never sees the output of its work. It never knows what fantastical potential it contains.
We are small parts, child. We do not see the output of what we do. We follow Stormcatcher’s orders. He too, follows some greater orders unseen, blueprints that the Great Machine has laid out for all things. And, like clockwork, we follow.
This constellation is a reminder of our place in the world. You see a circuit in the stars, but the truth is they are everywhere. Magic ley lines are just wires. When a machine overheats we cool it, thus the domain of water roils against fire. The energy we collect is destined for so much more than we can imagine.
And at the center of it all, you.
The Machine could not work without you. Your life is precious, invaluable. And all you have to do, is be you. You are enough.
(For this one I wanted to do a creation myth kind of thing, and something a little shorter bc I've had a few long ones. I'm enjoying reading everyone's entries )
[b]You just are[/b]
Starring Shakti and Thialle
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/69247676][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/692477/69247676.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/46892367][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/468924/46892367.png[/img][/url]
Shakti had always thought of herself as not quite right. Not quite here. Not quite real. She was the only member of her clan with a glowing, electric, technical-seeming pattern on her body.
She drew the tip of her tail through the sand.
'Don't start digging, please,' a voice said, and Shakti looked up to find her friend Thialle.
'Why not?'
Thialle came to stand beside her. 'You know they buried cables everywhere. I don't want you electrocuted.'
Shakti didn't answer. Thialle seemed to know that she was troubled. 'What's the matter with you? I thought you're excited to come to the Expanse. Even though I don't know why. Machines and harnessed electricity kind of creep me out.'
Shakti snorted. 'Your magic kind of creeps me out.' Thialle made a face as if to say that Shakti wasn't wrong. Shakti looked up at the stars. 'I wanted to come because I thought I might find answers.'
'Answers to what?'
'You know...why I am patterned like this. You're magic and you look it. But I just don't...I just feel like I'm at odds with myself. I'm not a lightning dragon, I didn't grow up here, and still I look like I'm part machine.'
Thialle nodded. 'And you thought you would come here and, what? Feel like home? Have a revelation?'
Shakti looked at her. 'Yes. I thought that I would just know- well, whatever there is to know.'
Thialle laid her head back to gaze at the stars above them. 'You just are what you are, and you have to let it happen. Sometimes you have to look into the distance to see that you belong right here in this moment.'
Shakti followed her gaze. 'What do you mean?'
'See the stars above? Try and connect them in your head. Don't they look to you like the patterns on your scales?'
'Well. Yes. Maybe, I mean.' Shakti furrowed her brow. 'What do you think it means?'
'I think it means that somebody put these stars there.'
Shakti nearly laughed. 'What? Who? And why?'
Thialle smiled. 'For dragons like you. So they can look up at the stars and see themselves mirrored there. You, Shakti, glow just as brightly and as beautifully as the stars. This is your personal kind of magic.'
Shakti looked up again, and she didn't even notice Thialle leave so lost in thought was she. Maybe she did glow as brightly as the stars, but that didn't mean she had to be so far away. She didn't have to distance herself from everything. She could just be here and live in the now, instead of being eternally trapped in the darkness above. Or in the darkness of her own mind.
She looked down at the energetic red patterns on herself and, for the first time in her life, thought that maybe they were rather fitting for a spiral dragon. She should stop worrying and just let herself be, well, herself.
So what if she had a bit of a resemblance with a machine - sparks meant that something was starting. And Shakti's life was going to get a good fresh start.
She looked up at the night sky one last time and silently thanked whoever had put these stars there.
Shakti had always thought of herself as not quite right. Not quite here. Not quite real. She was the only member of her clan with a glowing, electric, technical-seeming pattern on her body.
She drew the tip of her tail through the sand.
'Don't start digging, please,' a voice said, and Shakti looked up to find her friend Thialle.
'Why not?'
Thialle came to stand beside her. 'You know they buried cables everywhere. I don't want you electrocuted.'
Shakti didn't answer. Thialle seemed to know that she was troubled. 'What's the matter with you? I thought you're excited to come to the Expanse. Even though I don't know why. Machines and harnessed electricity kind of creep me out.'
Shakti snorted. 'Your magic kind of creeps me out.' Thialle made a face as if to say that Shakti wasn't wrong. Shakti looked up at the stars. 'I wanted to come because I thought I might find answers.'
'Answers to what?'
'You know...why I am patterned like this. You're magic and you look it. But I just don't...I just feel like I'm at odds with myself. I'm not a lightning dragon, I didn't grow up here, and still I look like I'm part machine.'
Thialle nodded. 'And you thought you would come here and, what? Feel like home? Have a revelation?'
Shakti looked at her. 'Yes. I thought that I would just know- well, whatever there is to know.'
Thialle laid her head back to gaze at the stars above them. 'You just are what you are, and you have to let it happen. Sometimes you have to look into the distance to see that you belong right here in this moment.'
Shakti followed her gaze. 'What do you mean?'
'See the stars above? Try and connect them in your head. Don't they look to you like the patterns on your scales?'
'Well. Yes. Maybe, I mean.' Shakti furrowed her brow. 'What do you think it means?'
'I think it means that somebody put these stars there.'
Shakti nearly laughed. 'What? Who? And why?'
Thialle smiled. 'For dragons like you. So they can look up at the stars and see themselves mirrored there. You, Shakti, glow just as brightly and as beautifully as the stars. This is your personal kind of magic.'
Shakti looked up again, and she didn't even notice Thialle leave so lost in thought was she. Maybe she did glow as brightly as the stars, but that didn't mean she had to be so far away. She didn't have to distance herself from everything. She could just be here and live in the now, instead of being eternally trapped in the darkness above. Or in the darkness of her own mind.
She looked down at the energetic red patterns on herself and, for the first time in her life, thought that maybe they were rather fitting for a spiral dragon. She should stop worrying and just let herself be, well, herself.
So what if she had a bit of a resemblance with a machine - sparks meant that something was starting. And Shakti's life was going to get a good fresh start.
She looked up at the night sky one last time and silently thanked whoever had put these stars there.
Circuit-Boarding
Tossing bones, listening to the whispers of conches, spirit boards, using a living medium as a speaking conduit themselves, all were methods of extracting information from the dead, with varying risks and rewards. When ridgeback investigators Louis and Casper find the freshly deceased body of copper thief Horseshoe at the scene of a botched heist, they devise their own method of extracting information from the recently departed…
“Is it working, Casper?”
“Not yet. Give it a kick.”
Louis grunted in affirmation and lightly pushed the stiffening body of the coatl with his hind talon.
Casper peered from around the monitor at her partner. “The power source, Louis! Give it a little more juice.”
“It’s way too late for this, Casper.” Louis frowned, turning the dial a hair on the contraption laying just north of the corpse’s head. He regarded the absolute sin before him. Mostly Casper’s doing, but he helped.
Desecrated would have been a kind word for what had been done to Horseshoe’s body. Circuits embedded into Horseshoe’s head, branched across his form, and terminated at the back of a translating box connected to a monitor. As Casper had explained it, raw current would run into Horseshoe’s fresh brain, give it just enough juice to process the stimuli they fed him, and the circuitry would transmit and translate the output onto the monitor. There was SOME magic involved, sure, but it was just them picking Horshoe’s brain like a regular interrogation. Not some risky ghost stuff. “You just don’t know what sort of critter you’ll actually get on the end of one of those,” explained Casper. “Not a spirit board…but a circuit board.” She winked at her Louis.
“Horseshoe, you there buddy?”
The monitor displayed in plain text: “UNFORTUNATELY, I AM HERE.”
“Name’s Casper. This is Louis”
“I KNOW WHO YOU CLOWNS ARE.”
Casper smirked. “Thought you were clever, stealing our own copper and selling it back to us, were you? You remember who was with you at the Source earlier this evening?”
“HORSEHOE KNOWS. YEAH.”
“Well, we need to know too. Maybe we could cut some sort of, uh…” Louis frowned at the state of the thing. “…Some sort of deal.”
“THERES A ROACH UNDER THE MONITOR.”
“CATCH HIM.”
With little effort, Louis caught the creature and cocked his head at Horseshoe’s still form.
“PUT HIM IN OL HORSEHOES MOUTH.”
Strange for a coatl to have a taste for bugs, but odder things have happened on the job here at the boundary between the Expanse and the Wastes. Louis complied, placing the roach into the mouth of the corpse, fighting rigor mortis to quickly shut the jaws before the roach escaped, miming chewing motions.
“OH STORMIE. THATS GOOD. THANK YOU.”
“You got names for us now, Horseshoe?” Casper couldn’t help but crack a smile. Even she couldn’t believe this was working.
“THANK YOU. THANK YOU.”
“My pleasure,” frowned Louis.
“YOU WILL PROVIDE ME NOW WITH IMAGES. NO LESS FIFTEEN GIGABYTES OF LARGE AND POWERFUL. RIPPLING MUSCLES. YOUR FINEST DRAKES AT WORK. THE HORNS OF THE RIDGEBACKS. THEY ENCHANT ME. “
Louis practically jumped away from the body.
“BANESCALES TOO. REMIND ME OF HOME. BUT I DO NOT FULLY MISS IT. I ADMIT.”
“Find your enchantment elsewhere,” Casper growled, “We know there were others with you at the Source, and maybe things went a bit sour…Eight tons of copper that are desperately needed and a gang of thieves that will strike again are on the loose. We need names. Locations. Affil-“
“HOW IRONIC.”
“TWO RIDGEBACKS. THEIVES HUNTING THEIVES. TO STEAL IS YOUR NATURE.”
Casper’s head peered from behind the monitored, lowered at the body before her as she snarled, “Insult my kind again, and I’ll steal your head off your flimsy little bird body, Horseshoe.”
“THIS ISN’T MY BODY. : )”
A beat.
“Casper, what’d he say?” Louis looked up at Casper from the other end of the apparatus. Casper jolted back from the monitor. “Louis, pull the plugs!” Louis quickly began pulling at the cords attached to the translator, claws fumbling, “Casper, what’d he say about you?”
“YOU LIKE ME. YOU LOVE ME.”
“Not about me! God, not about me…” She quickly rushed to the head of the body, unscrewing the cord firmly set into the wall. “Louis, we can’t tell anybody we did this…”
All cords unplugged, the pair contemplated the remains.
“We’re burning it.”
Circuits, branching, energy coursing, are like a river. With a river as large as the Expanse’s, when you cast your line, you can only hope what’s at the end is something you want to bring back.
Tossing bones, listening to the whispers of conches, spirit boards, using a living medium as a speaking conduit themselves, all were methods of extracting information from the dead, with varying risks and rewards. When ridgeback investigators Louis and Casper find the freshly deceased body of copper thief Horseshoe at the scene of a botched heist, they devise their own method of extracting information from the recently departed…
“Is it working, Casper?”
“Not yet. Give it a kick.”
Louis grunted in affirmation and lightly pushed the stiffening body of the coatl with his hind talon.
Casper peered from around the monitor at her partner. “The power source, Louis! Give it a little more juice.”
“It’s way too late for this, Casper.” Louis frowned, turning the dial a hair on the contraption laying just north of the corpse’s head. He regarded the absolute sin before him. Mostly Casper’s doing, but he helped.
Desecrated would have been a kind word for what had been done to Horseshoe’s body. Circuits embedded into Horseshoe’s head, branched across his form, and terminated at the back of a translating box connected to a monitor. As Casper had explained it, raw current would run into Horseshoe’s fresh brain, give it just enough juice to process the stimuli they fed him, and the circuitry would transmit and translate the output onto the monitor. There was SOME magic involved, sure, but it was just them picking Horshoe’s brain like a regular interrogation. Not some risky ghost stuff. “You just don’t know what sort of critter you’ll actually get on the end of one of those,” explained Casper. “Not a spirit board…but a circuit board.” She winked at her Louis.
“Horseshoe, you there buddy?”
The monitor displayed in plain text: “UNFORTUNATELY, I AM HERE.”
“Name’s Casper. This is Louis”
“I KNOW WHO YOU CLOWNS ARE.”
Casper smirked. “Thought you were clever, stealing our own copper and selling it back to us, were you? You remember who was with you at the Source earlier this evening?”
“HORSEHOE KNOWS. YEAH.”
“Well, we need to know too. Maybe we could cut some sort of, uh…” Louis frowned at the state of the thing. “…Some sort of deal.”
“THERES A ROACH UNDER THE MONITOR.”
“CATCH HIM.”
With little effort, Louis caught the creature and cocked his head at Horseshoe’s still form.
“PUT HIM IN OL HORSEHOES MOUTH.”
Strange for a coatl to have a taste for bugs, but odder things have happened on the job here at the boundary between the Expanse and the Wastes. Louis complied, placing the roach into the mouth of the corpse, fighting rigor mortis to quickly shut the jaws before the roach escaped, miming chewing motions.
“OH STORMIE. THATS GOOD. THANK YOU.”
“You got names for us now, Horseshoe?” Casper couldn’t help but crack a smile. Even she couldn’t believe this was working.
“THANK YOU. THANK YOU.”
“My pleasure,” frowned Louis.
“YOU WILL PROVIDE ME NOW WITH IMAGES. NO LESS FIFTEEN GIGABYTES OF LARGE AND POWERFUL. RIPPLING MUSCLES. YOUR FINEST DRAKES AT WORK. THE HORNS OF THE RIDGEBACKS. THEY ENCHANT ME. “
Louis practically jumped away from the body.
“BANESCALES TOO. REMIND ME OF HOME. BUT I DO NOT FULLY MISS IT. I ADMIT.”
“Find your enchantment elsewhere,” Casper growled, “We know there were others with you at the Source, and maybe things went a bit sour…Eight tons of copper that are desperately needed and a gang of thieves that will strike again are on the loose. We need names. Locations. Affil-“
“HOW IRONIC.”
“TWO RIDGEBACKS. THEIVES HUNTING THEIVES. TO STEAL IS YOUR NATURE.”
Casper’s head peered from behind the monitored, lowered at the body before her as she snarled, “Insult my kind again, and I’ll steal your head off your flimsy little bird body, Horseshoe.”
“THIS ISN’T MY BODY. : )”
A beat.
“Casper, what’d he say?” Louis looked up at Casper from the other end of the apparatus. Casper jolted back from the monitor. “Louis, pull the plugs!” Louis quickly began pulling at the cords attached to the translator, claws fumbling, “Casper, what’d he say about you?”
“YOU LIKE ME. YOU LOVE ME.”
“Not about me! God, not about me…” She quickly rushed to the head of the body, unscrewing the cord firmly set into the wall. “Louis, we can’t tell anybody we did this…”
All cords unplugged, the pair contemplated the remains.
“We’re burning it.”
Circuits, branching, energy coursing, are like a river. With a river as large as the Expanse’s, when you cast your line, you can only hope what’s at the end is something you want to bring back.
[img]https://i.postimg.cc/3rb3Kd4s/Mossmere.png[/img]
[b]Circuit[/b]
The small violin quartet sat in silence, patiently waiting. They all wore top hats and tails even though the quaint desert venue was outside and would be watched by dragons of all ages, likely dressed casually. It was customary to bring a picnic lunch to be enjoyed while the music played. A light breeze cooled the large gazebo in which the musicians sat. Delicate vines climbed the wooden columns and presented a glorious display of blue roses, which gave the air a pleasant, floral scent. The day was clear and sunny, no rain expected, but it would not have mattered because the gazebo protected the musicians, and tents stood by ready to be put up quickly for the audience. A decorative lightning rod attached to the top of the gazebo ensured safety in case of a thunderstorm.
Mossmere walked past the gazebo, giving a quick wave to the musicians. She entered her workshop, grabbed the materials she needed for her project and took them to the workstation. She examined a piece of paper with an intricate design printed on it in a thick black ink. It was the mirror image of the circuit she was about to make. She placed it ink-side down onto a copper-clad board and taped it in place.
[img]https://i.postimg.cc/SRW6ywQR/circuit-mirrored.png[/img]
Next she applied a hot iron to the paper, which melted the ink, transferring the image onto the board. She carefully removed the paper and ensured that the design was intact. Putting on her safety glasses and donning protective gloves, she took the copper board and gently placed it into a tub containing Ferric Chloride, which would react with the areas around the ink tracing, effectively etching the pattern in copper. She left it to do its work and tidied up her workstation.
Using tongs, Mossmere retrieved the etched copper board and cleaned it with acetone to remove residual ink. She disposed of the Ferric Chloride appropriately, knowing of its danger to wildlife. The copper pattern of the circuit shone brightly. Next she gathered the electronic components, drilled holes into the board for their placement, and affixed them. She admired the finished circuit, inspecting the resistors, transistors, capacitors and the rest. Removing her gloves and safety glasses, she picked up the finished circuit board and headed over to the gazebo.
She told the musicians gleefully, “It’s finally done! We will have you up in no time!” and she inserted the circuit board into a panel in the back of one of them. Flipping a nearby switch, the violinists began to play, each automaton’s violin strummed with precision, the music beautifully rendered. The summer concert still had a few hours before it started, so she flipped the switch off, the music faded away and the musicians stopped moving. Mossmere wiped a tear from her eye and watched the Automaton Quartet for a few more minutes, and said cheerfully, “Time to get back to work!”
The small violin quartet sat in silence, patiently waiting. They all wore top hats and tails even though the quaint desert venue was outside and would be watched by dragons of all ages, likely dressed casually. It was customary to bring a picnic lunch to be enjoyed while the music played. A light breeze cooled the large gazebo in which the musicians sat. Delicate vines climbed the wooden columns and presented a glorious display of blue roses, which gave the air a pleasant, floral scent. The day was clear and sunny, no rain expected, but it would not have mattered because the gazebo protected the musicians, and tents stood by ready to be put up quickly for the audience. A decorative lightning rod attached to the top of the gazebo ensured safety in case of a thunderstorm.
Mossmere walked past the gazebo, giving a quick wave to the musicians. She entered her workshop, grabbed the materials she needed for her project and took them to the workstation. She examined a piece of paper with an intricate design printed on it in a thick black ink. It was the mirror image of the circuit she was about to make. She placed it ink-side down onto a copper-clad board and taped it in place.
Next she applied a hot iron to the paper, which melted the ink, transferring the image onto the board. She carefully removed the paper and ensured that the design was intact. Putting on her safety glasses and donning protective gloves, she took the copper board and gently placed it into a tub containing Ferric Chloride, which would react with the areas around the ink tracing, effectively etching the pattern in copper. She left it to do its work and tidied up her workstation.
Using tongs, Mossmere retrieved the etched copper board and cleaned it with acetone to remove residual ink. She disposed of the Ferric Chloride appropriately, knowing of its danger to wildlife. The copper pattern of the circuit shone brightly. Next she gathered the electronic components, drilled holes into the board for their placement, and affixed them. She admired the finished circuit, inspecting the resistors, transistors, capacitors and the rest. Removing her gloves and safety glasses, she picked up the finished circuit board and headed over to the gazebo.
She told the musicians gleefully, “It’s finally done! We will have you up in no time!” and she inserted the circuit board into a panel in the back of one of them. Flipping a nearby switch, the violinists began to play, each automaton’s violin strummed with precision, the music beautifully rendered. The summer concert still had a few hours before it started, so she flipped the switch off, the music faded away and the musicians stopped moving. Mossmere wiped a tear from her eye and watched the Automaton Quartet for a few more minutes, and said cheerfully, “Time to get back to work!”
[i]You come across a small gathering of hatchlings. Somehow they seem familiar...very familiar...[/i]
[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/63678444][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=0&body=10&bodygene=0&breed=5&element=5&eyetype=7&gender=0&tert=29&tertgene=6&winggene=0&wings=30&auth=9bd3d08f5c97d3e6ea467c4d8f0f4d7a8c4a9e1a&dummyext=prev.png[/img][/url][/center]
"Let me guess: this one's yours, too." [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/63705788]Iceling[/url] snorted in Stormling's general direction.
"Of course," Stormling said proudly. "But I'll admit that [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/64428255]Flameling[/url] helped out a bit."
"I forged the metal," Flameling said. "I breathed the fire, melted the metal into little tiny bits, and let it cool."
"And then I sent out zappy-zaps, and it started to sparkle!" Stormling grinned. "It sparkled so much that it got hot!"
"So I came and blew on it!" [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/63659364]Windling[/url] cried. "I blew on it REALLY HARD!"
"TOO hard," Stormling grumped. "So hard that it flew up into the sky, and stuck there."
"Shoulda asked me," Iceling grumped. "I would have cooled it off."
"It should have cooled off anyway, going so high into the air," Flameling added.
All the hatchlings turned to look at [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/63803864]Arcaneling[/url]. He shrugged. "Hey, I like sparkly things! Why should I care if an extra one should turn up?"
"Besides," [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/62676043]Earthling[/url] said comfortably, "now all of Sornieth can see your handiwork."
Flameling and Stormling looked at each other. "YEAH!" they cried, and high-fived.
Stories in the Stars Day 5: Circuit
Words: 649
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/68884964][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/688850/68884964_350.png[/img][/url]
"Huh. Wouldya look at that."
A Ridgeback who had previously been keeping to herself finally spoke up. She was definitely the mysterious sort, with a wide-brimmed sable fedora that cast a shadow over most of her face (even at night, strangely enough). She wore a dress shirt and nice slacks; clothes that would seem fancy if not for all of the conspicuous tears that had been clumsily patched up. She hung at the edge of the group, and a particularly sharp eye could notice that she occasionally looked over her shoulder. Almost as if she was expecting bad company.
"Thought that was a myth," she muttered. She wasn't trying to make conversation; she wasn't the kind for small talk. No, her words were only for herself. She pulled a worn and torn journal from her coat pocket and began flipping through the pages. "Now Al, where did you... ah, here we go." The dragon, who apparently went by the name Al, finally settled on a page that contained chicken scratch writing that was legible only to herself and a plethora of messy sketches.
Al squinted up at the sky then returned her attention to the notebook. She did this a few more times until she appeared to have a breakthrough. "A-ha!" This remark was punctuated with a tap on a particular drawing. One that was an exact match to the constellation above.
The Ridgeback pulled a pen from the same pocket that she had retrieved the journal from and quickly got to work. She furiously scribbled on the page while muttering to herself. "So if my guy in Wiretangle was right, then... thought he was crazy. But if it's really true, how?" She closed her eyes in frustration. Okay, time to think this through.
Her previous adventure had taken her to Wiretangle Walk, where she had heard there were interesting scraps of both metal and knowledge to be found. After some artful dodging and tactical backtracking, she managed to find a semi-reliable source of info. That being an excitable Mirror who had a worrying tendency to hoard all sorts of dangerous odds and ends. While she had been suspiciously side-eyeing a barrel labelled "WARNING: DO NOT KEEP NEAR OPEN FLAME", her companion had been rambling on about what seemed to be nonsense at the time. Strange activity in Lightning factories, unstable power generators, the end of the world being shown through the stars, yadda yadda yadda. Complete nonsense. Al had accepted that her visit had been a waste of time and quickly excused herself from the doomsday bunker she had found herself in.
But in the present, staring at the evidence with her own two eyes, it was much harder to refute. She looked back up at the constellation and compared it to her notes. "Strange circuit board pattern... Three separate lines, one forking, one ending in a square... yup, that's it." So that Mirror wasn't crazy after all. She should have given him more credit. But then again, who could blame her for not believing that the power generators of the Shifting Expanse were causing cosmic mutations?
Al hadn't come here for work. She had intended this to be a relaxing trip. She liked stargazing; it reminded her of her childhood at Lanternlea Port. But it seemed work had found her. All she had to do was confirm her suspicions about which generator was creating these unnatural star formations. She thumbed through her journal until she arrived at a page that was full of sketches of computer hardware. Looking up at the night sky once again, she compared the circuitry to the constellation above. Each generator in the Shifting Expanse had its one unique hardware. No two looked or functioned exactly the same. When she arrived at the drawing that matched the stars, she let out a sharp exhale. Yup. Exactly as she thought.
It was The Source.
A Ridgeback who had previously been keeping to herself finally spoke up. She was definitely the mysterious sort, with a wide-brimmed sable fedora that cast a shadow over most of her face (even at night, strangely enough). She wore a dress shirt and nice slacks; clothes that would seem fancy if not for all of the conspicuous tears that had been clumsily patched up. She hung at the edge of the group, and a particularly sharp eye could notice that she occasionally looked over her shoulder. Almost as if she was expecting bad company.
"Thought that was a myth," she muttered. She wasn't trying to make conversation; she wasn't the kind for small talk. No, her words were only for herself. She pulled a worn and torn journal from her coat pocket and began flipping through the pages. "Now Al, where did you... ah, here we go." The dragon, who apparently went by the name Al, finally settled on a page that contained chicken scratch writing that was legible only to herself and a plethora of messy sketches.
Al squinted up at the sky then returned her attention to the notebook. She did this a few more times until she appeared to have a breakthrough. "A-ha!" This remark was punctuated with a tap on a particular drawing. One that was an exact match to the constellation above.
The Ridgeback pulled a pen from the same pocket that she had retrieved the journal from and quickly got to work. She furiously scribbled on the page while muttering to herself. "So if my guy in Wiretangle was right, then... thought he was crazy. But if it's really true, how?" She closed her eyes in frustration. Okay, time to think this through.
Her previous adventure had taken her to Wiretangle Walk, where she had heard there were interesting scraps of both metal and knowledge to be found. After some artful dodging and tactical backtracking, she managed to find a semi-reliable source of info. That being an excitable Mirror who had a worrying tendency to hoard all sorts of dangerous odds and ends. While she had been suspiciously side-eyeing a barrel labelled "WARNING: DO NOT KEEP NEAR OPEN FLAME", her companion had been rambling on about what seemed to be nonsense at the time. Strange activity in Lightning factories, unstable power generators, the end of the world being shown through the stars, yadda yadda yadda. Complete nonsense. Al had accepted that her visit had been a waste of time and quickly excused herself from the doomsday bunker she had found herself in.
But in the present, staring at the evidence with her own two eyes, it was much harder to refute. She looked back up at the constellation and compared it to her notes. "Strange circuit board pattern... Three separate lines, one forking, one ending in a square... yup, that's it." So that Mirror wasn't crazy after all. She should have given him more credit. But then again, who could blame her for not believing that the power generators of the Shifting Expanse were causing cosmic mutations?
Al hadn't come here for work. She had intended this to be a relaxing trip. She liked stargazing; it reminded her of her childhood at Lanternlea Port. But it seemed work had found her. All she had to do was confirm her suspicions about which generator was creating these unnatural star formations. She thumbed through her journal until she arrived at a page that was full of sketches of computer hardware. Looking up at the night sky once again, she compared the circuitry to the constellation above. Each generator in the Shifting Expanse had its one unique hardware. No two looked or functioned exactly the same. When she arrived at the drawing that matched the stars, she let out a sharp exhale. Yup. Exactly as she thought.
It was The Source.
@StormDragon21 @Sandydragon595 @Forestwolf @Mutation @Saronai @Wylin @romlily @Tenrecidae @AloVra @Pensacola @Scatterspark @Bxy26 @dragonpals @robouiop
Hello! Here is today's constellation:
[img]https://i.imgur.com/A6ux43G.png[/img] [item=Critical Mass Volten]
[b]Critical Mass Volten[/b]
[b]You have until July 31, 2021 18:55:39 FR time to submit your story.[/b] You still have a few more minutes to submit yesterday's story.
If you listen very carefully, the chittering of a volten sounds a little something like "aycee-deecee".
0
Critical Mass Volten
You have until July 31, 2021 18:55:39 FR time to submit your story. You still have a few more minutes to submit yesterday's story.
Once there was a swift little rodent who lived in the Golem Workshop. All around him were creatures that whirred and clicked, mechanical parts in perpetual movement. He often had to hide in dark holes to avoid getting stomped by bigger machines.
The little rodent did not fit in. There were Swift Lumens, who glowed brightly and slept in sunbeams. When the little rodent tried sleeping in a sunbeam, he felt his stomach growling. There were swift volts, whose fur stood up on end and whiskers bristled with electricity. The little rodent tried to get close to them, but their static gave him a painful shock.
He must not be a swift, then. He looked to the mice that jittered across the floors of the workshop, but they also seemed different. He had no key on his back, or wheels where his legs should be.
The longmechs were too long. The jellydrones were too tentacle-y. The steelhounds were large and fierce, and he was just a small little rodent.
So, he went to the caretakers of the workshop, the Miths. They were always building new things, armor and weapons and creatures like him. They must know what he was supposed to be.
He found a mith sitting down after a hard day’s work, a pile of nuts and bolts spread all over the floor. He carefully scurried around them.
“Excuse me,” the little rodent said. “Do you know what I am?”
The mith took a good, long look at him. “I don’t know,” she answered.
“But you made me, didn’t you? You made everything in the workshop.”
The mith shook her head. “No,” she said. “Many of the wardens were here long before us. When we took refuge here, we simply dusted them off, got them back to working order. We take care of them, and they take care of us. We fix them when they are broken. We did not break them.”
How was the little rodent supposed to figure out what he was? He sighed, turning away from the mith.
“Wait,” she called to him. “Maybe you are from outside. Have you ever been outside these walls?”
No, the little rodent supposed. He had only seen it through the windows, in dark shadows painted on the walls he was hiding inside.
“Why don’t you look? You might be surprised what you find.”
The little rodent went back to his hole in the wall to think about this, and the next day he made up his mind. He would climb to the roof of the building, so he could see out into the world without being in danger of getting stepped on. He found a loose wire to climb up, following it all the way to the ceiling. Then, he looked for a hole into the attic, and another in the rooftop. It was plated with hard metal to withstand dragon claws, so they couldn’t attack from above. He would have to find another way.
The window! He scurried to one of the creaky, breezy ones, and pulled with all his might until it opened a crack. Cold wind and rain blasted his fur, but he was determined. Up the wooden sides he climbed, until he was on top of his world. All around him were dark storm clouds and the shapes of trees. It wasn’t very impressive to him, and didn’t offer him any answers.
He looked up at the sky. “I wish I belonged here,” he said, like a wish.
And like a wish, it was granted. A bolt of lightning struck a long piece of metal on the rooftop, the shock electrifying the little rodent. Suddenly, the dead metal on his back came to life, whirring as it started up. His whole body was alive with electricity, the energy making him want to run in circles. He was mechanical after all!
He looked up, overjoyed and wanting to thank whoever or whatever had helped him. As the storm cleared, he could swear he saw the stars winking back at him.
(another lightning children's story. Whenever I see cute familiars that's just where my mind goes I guess.)
Once there was a swift little rodent who lived in the Golem Workshop. All around him were creatures that whirred and clicked, mechanical parts in perpetual movement. He often had to hide in dark holes to avoid getting stomped by bigger machines.
The little rodent did not fit in. There were Swift Lumens, who glowed brightly and slept in sunbeams. When the little rodent tried sleeping in a sunbeam, he felt his stomach growling. There were swift volts, whose fur stood up on end and whiskers bristled with electricity. The little rodent tried to get close to them, but their static gave him a painful shock.
He must not be a swift, then. He looked to the mice that jittered across the floors of the workshop, but they also seemed different. He had no key on his back, or wheels where his legs should be.
The longmechs were too long. The jellydrones were too tentacle-y. The steelhounds were large and fierce, and he was just a small little rodent.
So, he went to the caretakers of the workshop, the Miths. They were always building new things, armor and weapons and creatures like him. They must know what he was supposed to be.
He found a mith sitting down after a hard day’s work, a pile of nuts and bolts spread all over the floor. He carefully scurried around them.
“Excuse me,” the little rodent said. “Do you know what I am?”
The mith took a good, long look at him. “I don’t know,” she answered.
“But you made me, didn’t you? You made everything in the workshop.”
The mith shook her head. “No,” she said. “Many of the wardens were here long before us. When we took refuge here, we simply dusted them off, got them back to working order. We take care of them, and they take care of us. We fix them when they are broken. We did not break them.”
How was the little rodent supposed to figure out what he was? He sighed, turning away from the mith.
“Wait,” she called to him. “Maybe you are from outside. Have you ever been outside these walls?”
No, the little rodent supposed. He had only seen it through the windows, in dark shadows painted on the walls he was hiding inside.
“Why don’t you look? You might be surprised what you find.”
The little rodent went back to his hole in the wall to think about this, and the next day he made up his mind. He would climb to the roof of the building, so he could see out into the world without being in danger of getting stepped on. He found a loose wire to climb up, following it all the way to the ceiling. Then, he looked for a hole into the attic, and another in the rooftop. It was plated with hard metal to withstand dragon claws, so they couldn’t attack from above. He would have to find another way.
The window! He scurried to one of the creaky, breezy ones, and pulled with all his might until it opened a crack. Cold wind and rain blasted his fur, but he was determined. Up the wooden sides he climbed, until he was on top of his world. All around him were dark storm clouds and the shapes of trees. It wasn’t very impressive to him, and didn’t offer him any answers.
He looked up at the sky. “I wish I belonged here,” he said, like a wish.
And like a wish, it was granted. A bolt of lightning struck a long piece of metal on the rooftop, the shock electrifying the little rodent. Suddenly, the dead metal on his back came to life, whirring as it started up. His whole body was alive with electricity, the energy making him want to run in circles. He was mechanical after all!
He looked up, overjoyed and wanting to thank whoever or whatever had helped him. As the storm cleared, he could swear he saw the stars winking back at him.
(another lightning children's story. Whenever I see cute familiars that's just where my mind goes I guess.)
)
