Sable

—

But a mold of clay given life...

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Backstory

My furthest memory was not lovingly spending time with my parents on a camping trip under the stars, or anything like that. When I think far enough back, all I remember were experiments. Sitting in a bubbling tank, barely slipping between consciousness and nonconsciousness. It was my father’s personal project, one that he spent countless days and nights on after my mother passed away.

Still early in my life, when the house burned down, and my father with it, I was left with my aunt. To this day, I still think of Aunt Yvonne as more of my parent than my actual biological parents had been.

I — Rowan Atrament, was born on July 25… I think.

For some reason this whole experience hasn’t really felt like my own. Maybe it’s because I don’t really remember my parents since they passed away…

My biological father was called Aurum Atrament — and he was by all means what one would call mad. If the fire that burned down the old house hadn’t taken his life, I might’ve inherited more from him than a simple affinity with alchemy. Though I can’t confidently say if I would’ve kept my given name of Rowan even if it were the case. My birth mother, I know less of — she passed away during childbirth. Since I lived with my aunt, my Father’s Sister, of course I knew more about my Father’s side of the family.

In any case, that’s why I haven’t felt too near and dear to my own birthday ever since I broke into the basic resident registration network when I was ten years old. My attitude went south, and at its worst, in my second year of middle school I forcefully pushed away my own birthday party at home.

Of course, I’ve reflected deeply upon those stupid actions. Since having left my aunt Yvonne’s company not long ago, I’d met some very interesting and inspiring people. In a way, despite how I felt and lived personally, it helped me to cope being around these optimistic people.

Explain... nothing.

He couldn’t sleep. Rather, he felt that he was inclined to stay awake, and in the middle of the darkened night he lay, eyes wide, mind racing, thoughts fluctuating, shifting.

Sable wasn’t a person who easily let his actions be influenced by a force outside of his control, rather he avoided that sort of needless helplessness when possible. However on this occasion, he was tempted to get up, as if being led on to go somewhere else…

⠀⠀❝… how…?❞

He muttered under his breath as he found himself standing dazed among the charred ruins of his late parents’ home. He scowled, and turned to leave. Something different caught his eye near the door—an otherwise undamaged hatch, save for some scratches from this side of the trapdoor.

He pushed some of the burnt debris out of the way, and opened it. A polished metal ladder led down into the basement.

His sense of curiosity led him to climb down, and as he did, he entered what he would find to be his father’s sub-lab. The lights were off, and most of the existing technology in the space was largely outdated or dusty from years being unused. A gust of cold air billowed from the now open trapdoor, kicking up all the dust that had settled nearly a decade ago, causing Sable to go into a coughing fit. Waving his hand to clear the cloud of dust that had exploded, he made his way to the light switch, and flipped it from off to on.

The lights did not turn on. He did feel a bit stupid—of course, power for the establishment would have long been terminated. But knowing the value that his father held for his own work, Sable knew there may be an emergency generator around, turned off. He trekked around the lab, and managed to find a large machine covered in a tarp. A console stuck out from beneath the giant sheet, and a taped label on the null space of the console gave confirmation that this was the generator, and also gave some instructions for turning it on.

As soon as it began running, the darkness quickly disappeared as blinding white light bathed the cellar. Blinking just a few times to adjust to the new light, he turned to inspect the laboratory. A large case with shattered glass caught his eye, and he made his way to it. A cylindrical tube, about a meter and a half in diameter, and well over two meters tall with glass. Sticking from the top and bottom, a multitude of tubes and wires were still attached. Whatever liquid the tube had stored had long since dried up, leaving but a bare mark to indicate there had once been liquid here.

An open notebook was on the panel nearest the tube. Sable dusted the page. No year specified, but a date and some notes, which appeared to have been cut off before being completed. The handwriting was messy, but not illegible.

August 12
A hiccup for the project. It made the reinforced container brittle. Inspecting the broken shards revealed it had been turned to hardened silica, basically akin to thin glass. He appears unharmed. The stone disappeared, presumably consumed.
It has the desired output. I think I shall call it Rowan.

He scowled. This wasn’t in his memory, so either it didn’t refer to himself, or it did, and happened some time before he could feasibly remember.

⠀⠀❝ ᴇᴍᴇʀɢᴇɴcʏ ᴘowᴇʀ ʟow . . . ❞

Whatever else he wanted to explore would have to wait for now. It seemed the generator was nearing the end of its life, and Sable would need to bring an external light source for any future exploration he definitely wanted to do here. More of why and to what extent these… experiments were carried out.

Before leaving, he raised his hand towards the emergency generator, fingers open. He clenched his fist, and then sighed, relaxing his arm.

⠀⠀❝Better to turn the nuclear waste to lead. At least that way there won’t be any risks.❞

With that, he bid the lab adieu, and began ascending via the ladder, hopping up to the surface and letting the trapdoor shut behind him.

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Serious/Crack RP are both allowed
Dark themes
Semi-detailed/Literate
Penned by #Sᴀʙʟᴇ

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Personality

He would describe himself as reserved. Others have called him "edgelord."

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