The intricacies and complexities born within the Twin Circles was the primary focus of her undeath. For one, it was the cause of her continued existence, her own condition the absolute pinnacle of complexity possible in it. Free will, a true soul, intelligence and movements. Savis Maren knew in the core of her being that the way she moved was dissimilar to the movements of mortals. She felt it as she progressed, how her muscles did very little to support her. No, she moved with her bones, the joints in them. The thought of the potential of Savis Maren's futures distracted her for the briefest moment, the Nuit surrendering her connection to the circles for a moment. She clicked her tongue and rose to her feet. Carefully, she produced her brush and touched up one of the fading glyphs that made up the Source circle. Slowly, she found her thoughts shifting from the circle and the possibilities of Animation to the here and now.
Savis rose to her feet as she breached into her mouth. Physically she re-connected herself to the Twin Circles. The replenished Glyph suffused with djed as Savis Maren plotted the next phase of her contribution to Madeira Craven's bedroom. The Directives were set and the knowledge of Common brimmed within the basins and their platform. The Nuit let the world whittle away, with only her ears connected to the physical plane when Madeira posed her question - a demand, even. The Nuit pulled at the Source and she'd pull at the knowledge she possessed. Each mortal experienced the process differently and Savis didn't try to breach into feelings. Memories flashed before her eyes, the movements of the body caught. A Madeira Craven without a bulging stomach moved in front of the Nuit, but her destination was unclear. Savis instead breached into those movements, dissecting them, her focus a precise tool that sought only what she wished to steal from the creature.
Younger, smaller. Savis Maren saw through Madeira's eyes a place she'd never been. Shifting bodies through a shifting world, one the Nuit might never understand. The Nuit didn't try to connect this place to what Madeira told her earlier. She knew a city the woman mentioned, but she didn't care. Instead she focused on the spectacular distance of movements. The body jerked, hips shifting back and forth.
Next, Savis collected her consciousness to pour into a much more recent memory. A memory Savis experienced from the other side. The Nuit saw it in two parts, shifting from Madeira's and her own perception as an exceptionally elegant gloved hand twitched in a flourish before stroking her own face. The shift of the wrist was emphasized in particular, causing the Nuit to pull readily. Both memories she held and replicated before dissecting them into the sum of their parts. Faces went away entirely, worlds melted into nothingness before Savis found the raw movement, void of anything but the quality of feeling. She took it and imprinted them into their respective sections. Savis Maren poured the twisting wrist into the hinges, writing into it the movement so that they'd function in a similar way. The platform received its programming next. Back and forth, side to side. She wove the knowledge into the Persona before she answered Madeira.
Savis Maren's eyes fell closed in her proceedings, her hands limp at her sides. The Nuit's expression muted until she looked to the Spiritist with a smile set upon her features. The passage of time was impossible to track, but she quite hoped her ally would be as patient as she seemed throughout.
"Once the movements are programmed and its knowledge understood, there's the inspiration for sound. A... much easier process," she admitted. The Nuit painted perceptions into the automaton, utilizing the space between the floorboards on the platform as a means of registering sound. The sound wove into the awareness of Common, then linked into the prime directives. Another few chimes passed before Savis Maren ceased her manipulation of Madeira's soul. The connection went quiet between Source and Destination as Savis clenched her fists.
"After every bit of programming is implemented into the Persona, there's the matter of forming the astral body. The second act of the spectacle thart is Animation is by far the longest. So much is required of a Life Principle before it's matured enough to understand what is demanded. Mortals are given a lifetime to mature, to absorb new knowledge and assimilate it into their habits and understanding. Animations like this one... They aren't so intelligent as to absorb new knowledge. Designing them with all the knowledge needed is paramount, for it's far easier... and safer to start a project from scratch than to try to fix a mistake. In golems programmed with the knowledge of violence," she mused, forging an intimate relationship with the Destination. The undead's clenched fists turned to physical movements. She'd not manipulated an automaton of this size, but also realized the structure only needed an astral body at certain points. Savis' arms lowered, her fingers weaving patterns into her knees. The Nuit knew not when, but she realized she was sitting. Far too involved to pay attention to something as dull as the movements of her body, she instead focused on addressing Madeira.
"It is especially detrimental. My creations have yet to go mad... But I've never sought to design tools for slaughter," she admitted.
Savis Maren forged the astral body, weaving it into the floorboards, the hinges, the lids and then the body of the basin itself. When Savis was done, she shuddered with the relief of her efforts.
"Cha," she breathed, and the platform stretched with a new awareness. The hinges on each basin moved, taking the lids with them before returning to a 'closed' position.
"The Life Principle within will obey either one of us. Then... it will wait for a direction. It will throw itself in that direction, until the water spills from the basin. Be specific and speak succinctly. Confusing the Life Principle isn't recommended," she added.
WC: 1015