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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
0.54 m
Wingspan
1.09 m
Weight
2.8 kg
Genetics
Silver
Iridescent
Iridescent
Coal
Shimmer
Shimmer
Oilslick
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 21 Fae
EXP: 90997 / 127509
STR
7
AGI
11
DEF
6
QCK
45
INT
105
VIT
6
MND
5
Biography
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Drone #107 "Pyxis" ================================== Rattle the cage; it's you and me now. |
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One of the many descendants of Mizar and Alcor who has remained to become one of Clan Goldwood's soldier caste. As a group they've started being called drones, which was not intended as a flattering term but they've all taken a sort of pride in being their parents' yes-men. This particular drone and her eleven nestmates were all breed-changed shortly after their hatching - at the time Mizar was in need of spies, assassins, and mages. Fae are ideal for this, thanks to their small size, and unlike Guardians and Mirrors they are naturally disposed to magic use. The mage-drones' unusual status hasn't won them any favors in Mizar's army - their fellow drones watch them with wariness and yet at the same time look down on them thanks to their lack of physical strength. The mage-drones in turn aggressively ignore their larger brethren whenever they're not pulling rank on them. Mage-drone nine of twelve is not, precisely, a model drone. She's normal enough that she's never been reprimanded, and she's been promoted to commander for her calm competence. The only problem is that she's also developed something singularly unfortunate for a drone: a conscience. |
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The regular rank and file drones aren't taught to read - they're not really supposed to learn at all, but that's not strictly enforced because it's Light and some things even Mizar's regime doesn't stoop to. Most of them never learn more than the basics anyway. They have much more pressing matters to worry about. The mage-drones were taught, of course. It's not critical for spellcasting, but it makes things easier. There's only twelve of them, anyway, nothing like the hundreds of regular drones; a few who are a bit more well read than the rest aren't of much consequence. Most of the mage-drones use their skill to increase their control over their subordinates. 107 mostly just uses hers to stay up later than she should in the back of the library so she can read books she really shouldn't and probably shouldn't be in the library at all. At least Fae need less sleep than most of the other breeds. |
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107 knows where she is, what Mizar is - none of it is moral. She's complict in it, really, even if she never chose to be born here. She's a commander in Mizar's regime, after all - she's keeping the status quo. There are words for all of this, and none of them are good. But she's one drone among hundreds, and there's not really anything she can do. She's as kind and as lenient as she dares to be - as she knows how to be - and she has to hope that for now, that's enough. She keeps an eye on her fellow drones too; there's no way she can be the only one to realize this is wrong. Maybe if she notices someone else being kinder than they ought - being quietly rebellious in whatever ways let them stay alive - maybe they can work together somehow. Two couldn't do much more than one, but it's all she has. It takes 107 an embarrassingly long time to notice that one of the slaves is watching her in the same way she's watching her fellow drones. The Tundra tilts their head at 107. Their left hand continues spooning porridge, but their right signs a time. 107 isn't supposed to know any form of sign; it's not taught. She taught herself out of curiosity. She wonders how the Tundra knows this. 107 nods. The Tundra smiles. |
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The Tundra's name is Carina, and she is a rebel. 107 is supposed to report rebellious slaves, if she doesn't teach them a lesson herself. She considers it for a moment, entirely as a thought experiment. Carina would probably end up dead. 107 would probably not be given anything more than a brief bit of praise. She would've just been doing her job, after all, and that doesn't deserve praise. 107 doesn't report her. Obviously. She listens instead. She's always been good at that. Carina has a fire to her that people say Mizar does, but that 107 has never really seen. Mostly Mizar just seems unhinged. Carina talks with the kind of self-assurance that 107 thought only existed in stories. Carina is a rebel, and she is going to get herself and all her fellow slaves free, or she will die trying. 107 is happy to help. The other slaves are wary of her, and she doesn't blame them. She'd like to make friends, or even just to know who exactly is rebellious - it wouldn't really change anything, but there's kinship there, and 107 wants that. But she's a drone so they don't trust her, and that's fine. Carina talks to her, and that's enough. |
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"Pyxis," Carina names her, in her storytelling voice. "The compass. Patron spirit of travelers, revolutionaries, and lost causes." Well, it's fitting. They're all probably going to end up dead before long - can't get much more lost cause than that. "Thank you," Pyxis says, and Carina smiles. |
Character Notes
♫ Worker Bees, Rattle the Cage, Can't Go To Hell
• Very polite and well-spoken. She tends to use uncommon words fairly often, on account of inhaling literature for years. Sometimes her pronunciation is a bit off though.
OOC Notes
• Jet Force Gemini fandragon! yes, it's Floyd :D
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