Disillusionist » Lair » Qualia

Qualia

(#34105811)

Level 1 Imperial

Familiar

Liquid Fiendcat

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

28.82 m

Wingspan

16.23 m

Weight

8548.14 kg

Genetics

Abyss
Metallic

Abyss
Alloy

Cyan
Opal

Hatchday

Jun 30, 2017
(6 years)

Breed

Adult
Imperial

Eye Type

Arcane
Common

Level 1 Imperial

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Inari
Orchid

Offspring

Biography

NOT FOR SALE, TRADE, OR LENDING

The Muse
Q U A L I A
{ KWAL - ya }
Nickname: (none)
n. an essential quality of something

♥ a gift from Fujo

title
by artist

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STATS

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RELATIONSHIPS

CAROUSEL
Mate
"Artificial"? Why so? If it exists, doesn't that already mean it's real?

SHALIMAR
Friend
Where duties overlap, there the seeds of friendship grow.

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INVENTORY

~ lore ~
written by Disillusionist

Like other Night Shiro Kitsune, Qualia enjoyed creating art. Her true passion, however, lay not in the finished product but in the process of creation. She was always curious about how others acquired their ideas and inspiration, and how something so ephemeral could result in tangible works that could be seen, touched, and experienced by everybody else.

Her curiosity led her to follow other artists. Unseen, ethereal, she would take up lodgings in their ateliers and peer over their shoulders as they worked. She enjoyed seeing how they started from mere ideas, sometimes prompts composed of but one word. It was impossible to describe the awe she felt when an artist finished their work. No matter how simple it was, or how humble, that they had created anything at all was an achievement. She always rejoiced with them, even if they couldn't perceive her.

Inevitably, she encountered artists who struggled. They lacked the talent or will to complete their pieces. Qualia would wait patiently, for kitsune do not often meddle with mortals, and sooner or later most artists managed to haul themselves out of their ruts. But some gave up in near-despair.

When this happened, she would wait until they were near sleep, for that is when the doors of the mind open and it becomes easier to hear the voices of spirits. Then she would whisper to them. "You shouldn't give up!" she would say. Or for those who really needed it, "Why not try...this idea?"

Soon enough, the artists would reawaken. They would not remember the dreams. But they would remember the sense of being cheered on, encouraged, and admired. Or else the images flickering through their minds would resolve into a technique they could try. Either way, they would once again feel emboldened to continue, and after successfully finishing their projects, many of them would slump back in relief while Qualia trumpeted her joy.

She continued drifting around, lingering with artists for days or even years. The times she spent with those artists were also when they were at their most inspired, though nobody ever saw her. While batting about the Shifting Expanse, she heard tell of a young inventor who had created a most wondrous automaton. Artists who discovered their talent and calling at a young age were usually the most brilliant -- and the likeliest to burn out. In curiosity and concern she picked up the inventor's trail, and she followed him to the Light clan he'd joined.

She entered the lair on a moonlit night, when even the sentries were nearing sleep. She passed through the rooms, looking in on the inhabitants. A handsome Imperial was asleep at his work desk; even in slumber, his face wore a frustrated frown. Qualia would look in on him in the morning....There was a Wildclaw asleep near a gallery of portraits, and a Ridgeback who dreamed of dancing clothes and fluttering bolts of cloth. Qualia chuckled at this, then went even higher, to the conference room into which the moonlight shone.

There, she caught her breath: At the end of the room was an immense statue, that of a full-grown Imperial. Carved from polished indigo stone, with eyes that faintly glowed. It looked so lifelike, Qualia couldn't resist approaching it.

The statue turned its head to look at her. "You are a stranger," it -- she -- purred. There was nothing threatening in those words, and her voice was warm. The stony face, impossibly, shifted into a smile.

"I did not mean to show disrespect, Lady. Only...you are very beautiful."

The statue laughed, a soft, velvety chuckle burbling up from her chest. "It was my sculptors that made me so. But I thank you."

"You are...truly a statue?"

"Truly, yes. Entirely? No." The statue tossed her head. "I am no leader, but I am a guardian, and this clan is under my care."

Qualia revealed herself at last. She was much like the Imperial in terms of overall structure, but with gleaming blue-green scales below, a luxuriant black pelt above, and six magnificent tails. Her eyes were as bright as lightning, and she smiled hesitantly, like a dog meeting a new friend.

"Why, you are a thing of beauty yourself!"

Qualia preened. It had been many years since she had revealed her true form to another being, and she was much gratified by the response. She explained her nature, why she frequently attached herself to various dragons, and what had led her here. The sentinel listened intently, as she always did. By the time dawn broke, she had ascertained that Qualia was no threat and in fact could be a great help to the clan. So the kitsune was allowed to stay.

It was hard to say if the clan was aware of her. After she took up residence, the various craftsdrakes and artisans found their work much eased, the ideas and motivation flowing more smoothly than before. The Master Craftsdrake found himself churning out schematics without much difficulty, the Art Curator began scouting around for new pieces for the home, and the Chief Clothier and her mate began knitting hatchling sweaters with fiery zeal. Others were similarly inspired, and Qualia crouched on the roof in the moonlight. She wrapped her six tails around herself and smiled in glee.

She had also found the inventor she'd originally sought. He'd settled nicely into his new office and spent much of his time assisting his mentor. He was assisted, in turn, by the automaton: a wondrous construct that looked like a Wildclaw but moved with all the dainty deliberation of a jacana crossing a pond. Intricate markings decorated its body, and the cracks and blemishes underneath, testaments to a different life, only added to its beauty. It was a project that had been carefully and lovingly worked on, and it was clearly still maintained with the same care and love.

The inventor was soon given his own workshop where he, too, frequently fell asleep surrounded by drafts and plans. His automaton was always nearby to assist him. One night, Qualia watched as the mechanical Wildclaw removed its maker's hat and then draped a blanket around his shoulders.

And then it turned and looked directly at Qualia. It seemed to be waiting for her to command it, as other dragons sometimes did. It was not Qualia's way to give commands, however -- and she was quite surprised, for she was still in her ethereal state. "You can see me?" she inquired.

"Yes," answered the automaton. Its voice was distinctly male, as soft as the beat of owl's wings. "I am called Carousel, Madam. How may I help you?"

• made with Twai's Fox Creator

Credits & Notes: Coding and stat bars: Disillusionist. | Vista BGs: Hazeledpoppy's FR blog. | Coli bar: Starrlight's FR image generator.

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Exalting Qualia to the service of the Lightweaver will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.

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