And They Go by Sea

[Thomas Cosa]

"Breathe," Thomas whispered, commading his attentions to himself. He breathed slowly and deeply, each breath slowly lulling the pulser away from the hustle and bustle of Lab 15, and into a deeper focus.

Or so he tried.

"Breathe," he urged, his voice more desperate than before, more commanding. The distractions of the magical workshop around him still lingered in his mind, a constant deterrent from the concentration that his magics demanded. Still, Thomas continued with the practice of meditation each and every time before he practiced animation; and cosidering the importance of this animation in particular, the pulser tried to seduce his mind into a calm focus with much more determination than before.

"Breathe," Thomas frowned, the the thought echoing in his mind, only adding to the constant noise of the lab.

Sighing, Thomas opened his own eyes in defeat, deciding he had wasted enough time concentrating himself. Perhaps one day he would get somewhere with his meditations, but not today.

Thomas grabbed his knife, and slit his palm, the young mage hardly flinching. Sahova demanded only the strongest, at least of those with a beating heart, and anything less would be spat out into the black waters of Port Silence -- besides, Thomas had more pressing pains than a simple cut, the constant and never ceasing hunger a good example.

Blood flowed easily from the cut, Thomas applying pressure via a pinch to the wound.

The latent Djed within his own circle reacted immediately, spinning violently around the young pulser. Energy rippled around his body, the restless surges passing through his own mind. Thomas focused deeply on his own self, on his breathing, and his beating heart. The things that separated himself from the world. His passion, his drive, his need for more. The Djed reacted to his selfish thoughts, grabbing and tugging at his substance, eager to make it it's own.

Thomas willed a small part of himself to be released, and copied, becoming a small spark that would eventually light the golem's life fire.

And with another breath, the spark was blown across the animation circles, settling in the wooden golem.

And the soulcore had been created.

[Thomas Cosa]

Thomas allowed the Djed to spin around uncontrolled, untainted by his own memories.

The power whirled around him, waiting, expecting his command. Or so the pulser liked to think. The soulcore finished, Thomas now had to plan the directives and plot the persona.

Thomas clenched his hand, slowly maniuplating the wild power of the djed stream closer and closer to his being. Opening his own mind, Thomas offerered his own memories of the Port Silence, of the Nuit, of Sahova. These and more would work to establish a basic memory, from which the pulser could begin to build his first directive; authentication.

Thomas weaved his first memories of the island, the unnerving silence and always present fog of the port; the faint growls and snarls from the testing grounds as he made his way in the driverless carriage to the citadel; the various golems, especially the overseers. The golem would be able to recognize the differences between shore and sea, between boat and golem. It would respond only to those of Sahova, and anything coming out of a ship would be watched, or ignored. Whatever the current overseer decided best.

Thomas then infused the activation of the first direction, with emotions of trust and loyalty. His own thoughts trailed again to his patron goddess, Avalis. The goddess had earned his trust, his love, and his obedience -- all through a simple mark. Anyone on the island would receive the same treatment from the golem; a trust and obedience that bordered on reverence.

He then began to flood the djed stream with the various dangers and risks of the Citadel, and of the testing grounds, and the sea, or course. Monsters of various kinds, the remembered noises of the carriage ride to the Citadel all floated towards the soulcore, building on the second directive; survival. Unless someone on the island explicitly commanded the automaton in a dangerous situation, the automaton would always flee, especially if it was carrying cargo, or a passenger.

For a third directive, Thomas installed a kill phrase; the words, 'leather', 'rabbit', and 'fruit', bled from his mind, twisting and turning in the wild magic. The phrase set and fused itself to the animated soulcore.

[Thomas Cosa]

10th of Spring

"You didn't give it a mouth."

"What are you speaking of?" Laria mumbled, not bothering to look up from her own work.

"My golem. The scout. It had no mouth, Laria," Thomas frowned, arms crossed. The realization had annoyed the pulser immensely; how would the automaton be able to report it's finding's? How would it question the sailors? The creation needed a mouth, and Thomas expected the eypharian to fix the entire situation. Now.

"And why do you say these things to me? Number one, there was no mouth on the designs, so how would I know this? Number two, it is not my golem. It is not my problem," Laria shrugged, waving at a hand at the human, "Besides, you have already started the animation. You can't change golem now, but you know this, yes?" She smiled, finally turning from her work to look at Thomas.

Thomas opened his mouth, only to close it immediately.

He couldn't admit to his own mistake, at least not publicly. He should've known that he couldn't add anything to the golem, during the animation process; he should've known to add a mouth.

Too bad he wasn't learned in gadgeteering.

Thomas instead just glared at the eypharian momentarily, going off to fix what he had already started.

[Thomas Cosa]

Thomas sighed unhappily, stepping back inside the source circle.

He couldn't make a scout, at least not without some way for the thing to communicate. Besides having it develop some kind of shaking language, the idea was better forgotten -- at least for now. Instead the pulser mulled the idea of a simple carrier; the golem was large enough to carry one or two passangers, three if they all were nuit, and in smaller bodies.

Perhaps that was some use in that?

Perhaps the lab could send a pulser apprentice, or even a nuit, and have them monitor the seas, checking the ships themselves? Surely, it would give some of the more ambitious ones some sense of accomplishment and responsibility, and Thomas smiled to himself, knowing there would be a slight increase of death.

Not many of the nuit could swim, and he doubted any of the pulser apprentices would fair long againt a stormy sea.

Thomas pricked his finger, and pinched, forcing the blood out so much faster than it would naturally.

The magic reacted, stirring quickly, rushing around the young mage. Thomas slowly began to feed the golem bits and pieces of what he knew about the sea, and the port; what it looked like, how the Citadel looked from the island (Thomas wouldn't the golem leaving too far; making sure the island was always withing visibilty was a good idea).

A frowned formed when he realized the golem had no ears, like had had no mouth.

But he could work with just eyes; but he would need to remember all this for his next golem.

Thomas refocused on the commands, thinking of solely physical. A pointed finger, a waved hand. Several of these were much too common, and could perhaps misdirect the golem. Thinking quick, Thomas decided that a hand most always be touching the golem; the other hand of the person riding the small boat.

Power flowed and ebbed around the youn mage, a small smile showing on his face. Perhaps more so with animation then any other magic, Thomas felt powerful. He felt in control. The very Djed within the circle was under his control, his command - it begged for some sort of order admist it's natural chaos.

Thomas breathed, channeling this projected feeling of a need to control, for order onto the golem; it would actively strive and seek a master figure as Thomas imagined the Djed naturally did, as he wanted it to.

Then the pulser forced on feelings of happiness, centering himself; He remembered an early youth, spent with a healty mother and happy father. He focused on the love he had felt then, and on Mura.

And on how he had been protected.

These would be what the golem felt when being commanded, when it had a purpose.

More and more details about the forerver Citadel poured from the young mage's mind, bells passing quickly as he sat there, feeding his memory into his creation.

Thomas stopped after some time, tired by his efforts.

"Tomorrow," he yawned, deciding against risking the golem's completion in his current state.

[Thomas Cosa]

11th of Spring

Thomas yawned, awkwardly sprawled out over a pile of hay; what the pulser had learned to call his bed. He pushed himself up, stretching he did. He rolled his shoulders, waving his arms in a circular motion. Still stiff, Thomas nevertheless began to walk to the lab -- with a smile.

He would finish his golem today.

The young mage quickly made his way to his workspace, and and sat down.

A single drop of blood was all it took, and the magic began.

Thomas closed his eyes, allowing his mind to momentarily travel with the djed stream, beginning to see the golem in a whole new way.

The amorphous glob of colored string floated on the golem, waiting to be shaped. Thomas reached out, shaping the blob as it needed to be; as he designed it to be. Again, the djed pulsed out, Thomas allowing the magic to roll over him, to tickle him. The magic was always easiest to control at the end. Visual memories settling at the top, memories of touch and feeling at the wooden body. Memories of the citadel's known layout in the wheels, teaching the golem how to reach the sea.

When he finished, he relinquished control over the area, and the raw energy once more.

"Finally," Thomas smiled, walking over to awakened golem. Placing his hand on the golem, he pointed to his desk, and watched proudly as the golem reactively positively to his touch.

Walking over to meet his golem at his desk, he dropped his designs in the golem, and went to find the Master to give them his model.

[Thomas Cosa]

Thomas gently steered the animation through the massive cavern, approaching the master's workstation.

Even after three seasons, almost a whole year of time, Thomas still was impressed by everything happening in the lab; the young pulser couldn't help but pause and watch some of the more interesting animations happening in the lab, a metal hand, scurrying alongside one of the more promising apprentices; the beginnings of some kind of animal golem -- Thomas supposed that would be off to the testing grounds, as some kind of scout, or maybe it was a specialized order from the mainland.

Thomas, one hand always on the golem, directed it smoothly with the other. A wave, a pointed finger; any simple gesture would do. He was impressed with his own creation, but that was his own bias, and of course, his opinion was only so important.

He really needed the validation of the two masters, Filch and Kromby.

Thomas approached the master's area, nerves seemingly burning through his stomach.

"Masters Kromby and Filch," Thomas nodded, his voice cracking slightly, "Master Apprentice Thomas, reporting the first of three golem models," he announced, watching as the two nuits turned around to face the pulser.

Filch answered first, a low rasping sound coming from the ancient genius.

"Cid informed us that your ability with animation was more advanced than whatever talent you showed with gadgeteering, but, I had imagined you would understand what a model was," he sneered, moving to examine the golem. As he tapped at various parts, Thomas realized Filch had been laughing. Laughing at him.

The pulser refused to allow it to phase him, or to let the nuit have the satisfaction of knowing it had bothered him; if Filch had meant it as an insult. Thomas had become to know Filch as much more literal than Kromby, and that Thomas was better to take the nuit for face value.

Perhaps it had just been a crude observation?

"It's no secret I'm not as talented with tools as I am with magic," Thomas thought, deciding to shake off the remark, instead watching as Filch continued to poke and prod at the golem.

"What does it do?" Kromby mentioned, startling the young pulser.

"It's a boat," Thomas swallowed, hastily gathering his thoughts, "Installed are the directives authentication, obedience, and survival. I programmed a kill phase, just in case," Thomas nodded, waiting for Kromby's response.

"Very good, but that doesn't answer my question. What was the purpose of this animation?" Kromby asked again.

"Oh, yes, of course. It carries sentient beings from the island, and back. I've programmed the golem to always keep the island in sight, and no matter the command, it will always remain in sight. As a general use, it's a travel system. I envisioned as an added precaution to the incoming ships," Thomas nodded, hopeful.

"It should be easy enough to produce. Not exactly a complicated design," Filch added, "But for the next golems, we only need a working model. Meaning small," Filch, pinched together his fingers for emphasis.

"I'm not exactly sure Sahova needs any sort of precaution to incoming ships, although," he paused, turning to the golem, "I could see sending some of the lesser apprentices around the island, surveying some of the more dangerous areas of the testing grounds from a safer distance. I approve," Kromby nodded, turning back to his work.

And that was it. No praise. They simply went back to work.

Thomas sighed turning back to his own work, knowing he was expected to continue.

[Mirage]

Thomas

XP:
Animation: 5
Drawing: 1
Gadgeteering: 5
Meditation: 1

Lores:
Gadgeteering: Designing a new Golem
Gadgeteering: Don't forget the mouth!
Gadgeteering: Modifying designs'
Gadgeteering: The Purpose of a Model
Laria: Gadgeteering Apprentice
Laria: Good at giving orders
Laria: Very Cheeky
Master Apprentice: First Golem Completed

Additional:
Great thread! Now I may have missed it, but did your golem have a name for its design? I would like to add it to the Atlas . PM me with concerns!