Automaton rough draft ^^;;<br/><br/>I know I said that there wasn't a way to fully transfer a human's Libir and soul into an artificial form... and that's still, technically true.  There is, presently, no known way for one human to manipulate another's Libir essence to do so (on Nu Logikus, anyway).  However, I was thinking of Tim Burton's 9 earlier, and a concept hit me (a bit abruptly) on something that could tie to people back to their pre-automatonic history.  I've dropped tiny hints about a much more mystical life that preceded their societal evolution - like the names of the moons, and the associated name of the great Mena's Gasir.  I've also based the name of the village on the root of "refuge."<br/><br/>Feedback would be absolutely adored on how executable the concept might be?<br/><br/><strong>Name</strong>: Proto Menamia<br/><em>{<span class="bbc_u">proh</span> ' toh   mehn ' ah ' <span class="bbc_u">mee</span> ' ah}</em><br/><br/><strong>Type</strong>: Nu Logikir<br/><br/><strong>Species</strong>: Automaton<br/><br/><strong>Position</strong>: presently, n/a; was created outside of the boundaries of Mena's Gasir<br/><br/><strong>Associated Gender</strong>: Female<br/><br/><strong>Age of Construct</strong>: 4 orusum<br/><br/><strong>Associated Age of Sentience</strong>: young adult, between 20 and 30 orusum<br/><br/><strong>Chyklos of Sentience</strong>: 9th; 3rd day<br/><br/><strong>Height</strong>: 165 cm (about 5' 6")<br/><br/><strong>Physical Description</strong>: Though somewhat-dulled and in disrepair, it would be obvious, to anyone, that Proto Menamia is the lovingly-kraphted mastir-piece of her creator.  Her body is made, entirely, of the finest, stain-proofed pherorganik; it must have taken most of her creator's lifetime to afford it.  Upon careful observation, one would notice that her "limbs" have been connected with ball joints, which should have once increased the smoothness of her range of motion; they desperately need to be oiled.<br/><br/>Upon further observation, one would find that her backplate has been installed with three steam-valves aligned along the slope of her "shoulders," and they curve, approximately parallel,  alongside her carefully-jointed spine.  Shaped to her exoskeletal shell, they connect to a miniature boiler located in the approximate region of a human's stomach.  Mould-cast, solid gears appear to have interacted in a precisely-timed fashion on either side of the underlying furnace, to operate a miniature bellows.  The air from the bellows would have pumped oxygen into the furnace, encouraging the flame therein to consume organik, and heat the boiler.  The boiler would, then, have generated the necessary pressure to operate her internal workings, as well as the gears that connected to - and seem to have worked - the bellows.  The steam therefrom would have, then, exited through the valves.<br/><br/>Truly, when she had been fully operative, she must have been a most magnificent sight to behold.<br/><br/><strong>Character History</strong>: The elder, bent-backed human toiled and tinkered away; a tear slipped from his eye as some unknown, saddening thought occured to him.  After a moment, however, he grit his jaw, banished the terrible thought from his mind, and continued to focus on his skillful Shaping of<em>her</em>body.<br/><br/>He'd never known where he got the ability to mould metals like he did; no one else in the outlying village of Rephugim shared any talent of a similar nature.  His hands ran over each length of pherorganik, and it responded to his touch, much like wood to sandpaper; he reflected that he should have found a woman to settle with, if only to have passed his gift on to a child.  Yet one's Libir was full of regret, he also reflected; that was merely the way things were, and, in some ways, it was a twisted way of enriching one's mortal experiences.  It had not been his Fate to love any female, though; none, that is, except for<em>her</em>.<br/><br/>With the gentlest of touches, he ran his fingertips over<em>her</em>Shaped cheek-ridges.<em>She</em>was almost ready.  Only one thing remained...<br/><hr/><div class="floatright">(http://i1087.photobucket.com/albums/j478/Axiom_Images/device.png)</div>Slowly, he opened the gilt-edged, hand-carved box.  It was ancient, even older than the lady that had given it to him.  It's contents were, quite possibly, even older still.  As he parted the folds of the mysteriously soft cloth - and rubbed his fingertips over the trinket kept therein - his memory briefly caressed upon the recalled visage of the old Tradakir.<br/><br/><em>"You do not remember a time before Them, little one, but I do.  In some ways, Their coming has been for the better, but the time must come that the people Remember.  You... you will not see this time, but you will be a catalyst for its arrival.  When the time is right to use </em>this<em>..." She pressed the ornate box into his then-little hands before continuing, "you will know."</em><br/><br/>"Maedir Menamia..." he whispered, glancing down at the hemispherical device now resting in the palm of his hand, "You were the last of your kind.  May the future yet, someday, rebirth another in your image."  He lowered his head, eyes closed, as he paced his breathing against the pain that had increased over the years, and now wracked his physical form.  "I will Name<em>her</em>for you.  It is all that I can do; all that is left within me to give."<br/><br/>He grit his jaw as resolve for what he knew he must do took over.  For a final time, he glanced over the parchments of the Lore concerning the device, rolled them tight, and then stored them away in a carefully-hidden compartment along the inside of<em>her</em>"thigh."<br/><br/>Then he clasped the device into the place he had specially crafted for it, centered between the metal he'd shaped to represent collar bones, at the apex of her "sternum."  Once the transfer had taken place, it was written that the device would flare with an intense heat that would fuse it to her structure.  This way, it could never be removed.<br/><br/>For several moments, he sat there.  It was less that he was reluctant to take the final step; he just wished that he could be there to guide and to guard<em>her</em>.  However,<em>she</em>would not<em>be</em>without this necessity... this sacrifice.  So - with a caress that trailed down from the lovingly-polished skull, down the side of<em>her</em>"face," to rest, momentarily, beneath the gently-moulded chin - he dropped his hand to depress the three sections of the device in the correct order.<br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://i1087.photobucket.com/albums/j478/Axiom_Images/device_glow.png)</div>A blinding, opaque, green glow flashed from the device, yet he stared intently; determined that<em>she</em>would be the last image imprinted upon his mind.<br/><br/>It only took a few seconds, and yet the lapse of time was the true essence of eternal, in his perception.  He felt his Libir being succored from his body, like a newborn lamb to its mother's milk.  In his last moment, he wondered if<em>she</em>would ever know.<br/><br/><em>"Menamia... I've come home..."</em>