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Hello, there really isn't much to see here. :^D

In case you were wondering, yes, I drew my profile image. Do you like it? I think it has a depressing sort of beauty.

Disclaimer: I can sometimes be a little too honest, and my standards might be too high. People don't like that. But let it stand on record that I also view myself with the same light. I would not criticize others if I am not willing to take criticism myself. Be mature. Don't hold stupid grudges. If you've come here to scope me out, to find some shameful detail or quench some personal spite because my honesty upset you in some way, -- I'm sorry but there is nothing here for your desperate attempt at self-validation. I will settle the pettiness with an apology. Sorry. Happy?

I can't do anything more than that.

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It was quiet, yet so loud.

Tink found herself sitting atop a nearby building once again, staring down at the chaos that continued beneath. It was almost as if she was right back where she started, fluttering like a lost flower above the metal complexes. But now a drooping flower. Tink was unable to hide her disappointment, her head hanging low and her arms clutched at her side. Her eyes gazed listlessly at all the flashing lights.

Though she kept her life, she was unable to finish her mission. Once she reached the VIP lounge, Tink discovered a huge commotion going on in the area. Apparently someone really important was shot and heavy Eurocorp forces were swarming everywhere. It made attaining any sort of information quite impossible. She couldn't even get a name either. There was no hearing past all of the noise. It felt like sloshing in her head. Even now, all the sounds and screaming ring like small bells being rung aside her ears. And the sight of red lingered like a pair of heavy lens behind her eyes. Maybe her calibrations were off again. Did she require another check-up again? Ah, but that would require her to deliver some sort of payment, does it not? Tink was still paying off the last one. Or was it two? Time and time again she has shown up to their doorsteps, with little to offer. Money came sporadically for someone like her. Yet they always choose to help. And though they always assured her that she was not a burden, Tink knew otherwise. She was tired of receiving their good will. She felt so shackled by this helpless feeling. How many more debts will she owe before she will be truly free? How many.

What an awful party. And she has been at a great number of awful parties.

Tink was happy to not be invited. She just wanted gone with it all already. Taking a deep breath, she can at least be grateful for the nightly air. The chilliness helped freshen her senses and cleanse her thoughts. So to speak. Her enjoyment was probably because she couldn't taste how awful it truly was.

But still, even accounting for all the positives, her mood did not improve. Her mind was still on the failure of the mission. The payment alone was not what worried her though. There will be more people seeking her services. There was not many like her, who liked to solve problems without a trace. Without a mess. Rather, she promised something special for the strays when she returned. Time is drawing close on all of them. She tried to move away from the subject, wishing not to ponder such things right now.

"Appears those pair of shoes were squandered..." she finally muttered, glancing down at her exposed, rusted arm, "What an absolute mess, really. How wolves follow blindly when there is blood..."

Tink stood up upon this note, turning back to her mysterious companion. A sweet looking girl, if not rough around the edges. Though they did not really share any words over this short venture, she enjoyed their presence through it all. It is not often she has someone following her who did not want to take her light away. She smiled openly, giving them a curtsy bow by lifting up the folds of her remaining dress and arching her back in an overly elegant manner. Despite what she felt inside, she wanted to give off a good impression to this kind(?) stranger. Well, kind enough not to try and kill her at the very least.

"I do not know your intentions, little one, but I appreciate not being alone in this dark moment. And though I would like to get to know you better, I'm afraid I must say farewell. I must make it back across the city tonight. I must make a report, lest my reputation be stained. More than it already has... I hope you have a safe trip home."

And with that she turned around, hopping down the rooftops like steps and stepping back into the hazy smoke.


The trigger on a loaded gun fires with unexpectancy and with great disaster.

Tink has never seen fireworks this close before, staring in awe as the dazzling structure before her erupted with resounding brilliance. But despite the beauty of the frizzling wire and blooming luminescence when the neon signs and graphics crumbled and shattered, the doll quickly found herself frowning in reservation. This side-show only disguised, hoping to lessen the impact of the slaughter to come. Predators immediately began preying in on the scattered folk. The poor moths screamed in confusion and horror as their light was squashed and they were left in shadow. Soon, gunshots blasted away the leaking puffs of darkness, replacing what was left of the light with a ray of crimson blood. It was a familiar, if not unfortunate, sight for Tink. All corporate parties came with an unexpected surprise, a way to 'remember the event'. Sometimes it was more pleasant than others. But that was only a matter of perspective of who was receiving the reward and who was serving it. Tinkerbelle never liked watching this far into them.

"Well, that was quick... but I suppose a hungry wolf grows ever reckless when there are others also waiting on its meal."

She had noticed others who had readied themselves in the shadows during her short time there on the high place. Though they were clever and sneaky, they could not hide fully with so many in their pack. Whatever their purpose, she needed to act first now that the moment has realized itself. Enough waiting. It was time for Tink to assume her role as a hunter.

The beam pivoted as Tink dove down, leaving it to swing alone in emptiness. She landed on the rooftop below with a light thud, skipping slightly to negate the impact, bolting now as she leaped again over to the rooftop of the party with an arcing movement. Soaring like a swan taking flight. And she would flutter across to land. With a huff, she darted over the rain stains and rusted pipes, crouching down over one of the roofside windows leading to the fringes of the party. There, she scanned with her glittering indigo eyes. And for a moment, she allowed her mind float in all the chaos and screaming. She needed to locate her target, and quick. The only way was to allow the images to bleed through. And bled through, they did. And in this slight moment, she felt it return. Such a heavy feeling. As though her heart was wretched and sunk beyond her own body.

But luckily, it lasted just that moment.

A secluded corner on a crimson dance floor... hidden by sable bushes...
After marking her destination, the doll turned back and leaped off the side of the roof.

She slid down the steeping slope of the decorated awning into the backside where they managed the deliveries and pick-ups. There, Tink was met with an unfamiliar face. A young woman who seemed to be up to her own plans. They seemed to be searching for a way in, with little to no success. She thought for a moment to help. That is, if their motives aligned. But hearing the violence intensify, Tink knew she cannot afford to waste time with pleasantries. Swiftly discarding her flowering brimmed cap, and the first layer of her attire, the doll hooked herself off the side and rammed through a high-lying vent with her heels. The soles of her boots snapped off, much to her despair. But at least she afforded her way through.

There will be other boots and clothes, as much as she adored the last pair. However, time cannot be bought in the same way.

The doll began to crawl through the cramped space, unhindered now by the excess that would've otherwise restricted and dragged her. Given the success, Tink did not look rather pleased. She felt much less dapper and vulnerable already, like some poor, rutty slog. And in a way she was. Her faulty neck-brace covered much of the damage, but the ruined synthetic flesh across her left shoulder and arm revealed gnarled metal joints without her flush coat. While she crawled, arms and hands ever reaching forward, the grisly sight would always remain in vision. But now was not the time to be fussy. If there was no more motive, there would no longer be payment for tonight's gambit. So she resolved her mind and moving quickly towards the screaming and flashing fire.

Her intention was towards the obscured lounges where the VIPs were being held. To offer escape. When the blood thirst sets in, let the wolves fight amongst themselves. It would take a miracle for each pack to resist fighting each other over their prey.

Though she sought information above all else, the Ori's being alive were necessary to fulfill that goal. For if they died, that meant all of the information would be useless. No? Of course. That meant keeping them safe and alive.

At least, the most important ones.


The difference between creatures of the dark is whether they hide or hunt. But even hunters are not all alike. Wolves hunted in numbers to prevent escape. This was like a small, organized gang. A tiger did not care for numbers, for they had power. This was like the Blacklight and their sects, who dominated this side of the world through sheer force. And mercenaries? They were like the resourceful and fierce hawk, though some more like the poaching vultures. What would that make Tink themself, then? Hm...

The porcelain doll watched as shadowed figures around her gathered towards the depths of the district, like moths drawn to an over-exposed lure. Though she can see them, they were unable to see her.

The doll walked in a place where no living thing would dare look. Nor would they even care to look. Surrounding her was the foulness of the outer districts, building and accumulating at such an express rate that they were constantly released from large exhaust pipes all around. What was the point in looking through the trash? This black smog was so thick and massive they would drift across for miles. And she found a way to drift between them. A hunter tries to get as close to their prey as possible, to ensure their success. This is what she learned from watching the strays, who must learn to avoid the hunter to survive. Though even the most desperate and hungry would not try this method. If not for her abnormal physicality, she would've succumb to the noxious fumes by now. For hours, this has gone on. This blind walk in the swirling darkness. This was as close as she could get to people without them realizing, standing only a few dozen meters away from the ground below as she deftly traced the awnings, arches, and bridges between towering structures. And even if they were to look, they would find nothing. She was holding her breath, so to speak, focusing all of her internal power reserves into the neck-bracing device. In this manner, her functions were reduced to their absolute minimum, this combined with the frequency jamming, essentially made the android 'silent'.

Eventually all the pitch nothing would reveal a dim light. And so she would follow.

Corporate parties were something that confounded the doll. Though they lay their intentions blatantly, they only do so to hide secrets in plain sight. Why? She often wondered. Her friends would tell her about the dangers of this world. People are like moths. They seek the light. They need it. But moths covet light so much that they forget to notice the flames. This party seemed to be different though. They held it in this rusted, abandoned place of all places. What was their intention? Tink only knew what she was told. Ori was a young venture in Europa. Yet already they claimed a foothold and seized a fistful of power. Ambition is easily misunderstood as war mongering to those who do not know the cause. Especially when the same powerful fist is waved around. They also promised change. Coming this close, she could feel it in the air. A huge tide waited in the shallows. If this change meant their benefit, it would drive a human to do almost anything. But whose change would this benefit? This was her purpose here. To ensure her clients that they would not be toppled by this power. Knowledge leads to the correct answer, and thusly, leads to peace. Correct?

She hoped so.

Tink pushed out of the smog and onto a precarious walkway, like brushing through smokey curtains, as she stepped towards the rotted steel edge of the overhanging beam. She hovered like a dangling flower above the shining, booming structure before her, the frilled dress swooshing like petals in the cold breeze. The dying smoke trailed behind her for a split second as she leaned down to gaze at the blinding lights of the warehouse converted nightclub. The whole rundown structure looked like the sort of place where only the self-dignified and overly important would claim to be classy and refined.

"All this pale glamour and glee..." she said softly, "What are you hoping to hide here?"

Though despite her excitement, with a sigh, Tink folded the dusk colored dress hollows and began to settle down. She laid atop the steel beam with both legs hanging over the side. Much like how a lady would sit upon a saddled horse. It was about a hundred meter drop towards the nearest rooftop from where she was, and the creaking metal and slight swing as she did this simple movement was not exactly comforting. But the doll did not think about the fact she might fall at any second. It wouldn't hurt that much, really. But rather, she was focused on how pleasant the feeling of the wind was this high up.

She wanted to bide her time in the least boring way possible, taking in the prospect of danger with a smile. She took this time to let her imagination run wild, all the while waiting for something. Anything. A moment of disruption, for her to slip through. Tink knew she was nowhere equipped to storm a party. Let alone not even knowing what kind of arms they were bearing in the security force. So, it was best to wait for someone who will. Correct? Surely.

This sort of gathering would surely attract all sorts of beings. Not only moths. Maybe there will be some hawks and vultures who will show their faces tonight? That would cause quite the uproar.

Though she did not condone violence, she could not stand in the way of two beasts fighting one another. She could only try to prevent their harming of the innocents around. But judging by the nature of this party, seeing glimpses of the 'show' being held through one of the roofside windows - Tink wasn't entirely convinced there were any innocent here.


Creepy... x . x

Hazy and blue. Those were the reflecting colors of the ever-glowing sky in the shattered windows. A strange time-worn figure stood between the wreckage of the vehicle and the crumbled wall. The oddly archaic clothing contrasted the retrofitted world around, the weathered frills and laces fluttering as she leaned down. She couldn't help but glance closer upon the unfortunate circumstance, though with a deeply troubled expression.

She had a terrible feeling about it.

The smoke and flames had long withered away by the congested slummy air, leaving only a mark-less black spotted shell behind. A package presented and preserved by the neglecting corporations themselves, funnily enough. For all the ideals they like to spout, they forget the very value of humanity itself.

Her eyes twinkled in both awe and revulsion when she pulled back the metal, and was met with a corpse. A pair of eyes stared right back at her. Between these deadened lenses, and that of her own, it was difficult to say whose was more real. The doll blinked once, reminding herself to recoil a bit. The massive weight around her neck, the hefty, bulky regulation device was a constant reminder of that fact. The failures of her emotional programming allowed her to be aware, but no longer instinctively react. So she needed to remind herself to act 'naturally', like a normal human would. And though she couldn't react in the same way, that didn't stop her from knowing it was probably 'odd' to be poking about.

Though she wanted to look away, Tink knew she must continue. If not her, then who? No one cares for the lowly people behind the city, not even themselves, ironically as it is.

As she looked on at the fatty, swollen face, it was clear this person had been left to reach bloated stages of bio decomposition. It was a pose of seizing desperation, their hands clutched at their chest and throat. Asphyxiation, no doubt, was what saved them from a suffering far worse. Even now, their soft eyes still captured the essence of entrapment and hopelessness. Despite her innocent look, Tink seemed completely uncaring of the grisly sight before her. Dimly glowing electronic eyes glanced around the darkness, leaving small purple rings as they scanned the interior for things. Well, to be more specific, each person carried about significant things. Whether in life or death, they would never dare stray away from them. And these items can be just about anything. And though this person and this scene were like many of the others she has come across, Tink made sure to note differences and set this one aside.

From the precious metal lighter, the stash of burnt photos in the ruptured compartment, and the morphed, semi-melted corporate nameplate, she witnessing a small glimpse into his life. Though it all intrigued her, she kept being drawn back to the staring eyes. They held the greatest measure of weight. A story that no object could ever tell. The story of a living being. Where once a soul existed within.

To her, looking into the eyes are like staring into a photo. So many things said without being said. A puzzling contrast.

Was there a tinge of regret and loneliness in those eyes? A broken heart? Perhaps suggesting an attempted suicide after a failed romance? A shattered dream, maybe. Such could break even the most resolved. Or was this an unfortunate accident that was never taken responsibility for, this victim only left to ponder and worry about a life left behind? There was no real evidence for any of these cases, but she liked to paint a grand narrative anyway.

"Poor soul..." Tink muttered as she turned to look around the crowded, neon-lit landscape, "Out of the millions and millions, not a single one to care for you..."

And though she felt sad, she made sure to smile. Perhaps a wrong contrast, but she wanted to show her determination. "Though I can never undo what has already become. Do not worry, poor lost soul. This one will make sure you are never forgotten."

The world outside of the palace was strange and painful, as she has come to learn. Tink has come across this kind of scene many times in the higher districts, in the slums. But each time, it still amazed her. In all sorts of ways. And it was the unnamed ones who experienced it the greatest. The ones who live day to day in this cold world, trying to do nothing more than to survive. In a way, strays and humans of this status are no different. Were they not? Never to be remembered, never to be acknowledged. Smashed underneath the relentlessness of human construct and idealism. Even now, at the abandoned edges of the city, she can hear the whirring of the corporate mechanisms and buzzing of the neon lights. How does one even cry above all the noise?

Her glimmering purple eyes narrowed and widened as the final scans were made. She had been carefully saving this 'image' into her own picture book, making sure not to miss any detail. She wanted this lonely far-cast soul to be remembered. So they can have a story too. Even in one so small and insignificant.

This was one of the perks of being not human. To remember everything. To make sure every moment meant something. But sometimes, she would have to admit, there were some things better off forgotten.

Though it seemed like a long while, in reality, she had only been there a few short moments. Maybe a minute or so. Most of the time had been spent prying than thinking. All of these introspective thoughts and observations had already happened before words were able to translate, such is the way of a cybernetic mainframe. Even regular brains worked faster than the words spoken from a mouth, or transcribed through writing. And in this way, a picture was indeed worth a thousand words.

As much as she wanted to do more, there was nothing more to do. Only the memory and promise would remain.

The porcelain doll quickly issued a small prayer, laying a dainty flower from her basket upon the car before going on her way. There were countless other memories to make. To save, and to discover.

And to think, this all started with her simply wanting to go out to pick some flowers.

"What a world we live in..."

Welcome back, dear little site of ours. The sweet, buggy mess you are.
Pre-Wednesday Madness Hype! :^D
Phew! I had to fix a few code issues when moving this over from another program, but in the end, it's all done with now. Anyway, this is the basic idea of the character I have in mind. I haven't gotten a fully rendered image quite yet, but I'm working on it. Sorry, in advance! If there are any questions or any errors in lore, please notify me. Though I've read most of the fluff, I've a terrible memory as a person. So I'm bound to make a few mistakes.

With that said, I present my sheet. I look forward to working with you all. :^D

Working on my cs, I'll have it up probably in a few hours once I get things settled around my house! :^D
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