For a while I've been struggling with how Thane's chassis should look, but I think I finally found something I'm comfortable with. I'll need to practice him a bit more and figure out his back, but I'm pretty satisfied.

Anyway, I realize I've been posting all this art of him, and I haven't shared much about him. I thought I'd toss in a story thing for him that's been collecting dust in my files.

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The Gaudier manor had once been the home of a famed inventor and toymaker, but now housed his small but growing family. As they thrived on without him, the bowels of the manor held a closely guarded secret that the members feared themselves.

Within the basement, held the last remains of the inventor’s workshop. Tools and materials were still strewn about as if the old man would plop onto the chair and start working again at any moment, but such a time had long passed. The sheets and bits of metal ready to be shaped had begun to corrode, and the occasional insect and rat scurried throughout, nibbling on anything of interest.

Except for the thing in the corner.

In the furthest part of the workshop, two dim yellow lights floated solemnly, sweeping across the floor and occasionally sputtering out like choking embers. A large clunk was heard at the top of the stairs and the lights brightened, lifting towards the direction of the noise. A house servant wandered down the stairs, a candle and a glass of water in hand. Her red hair was woven into a French braid that trailed down to the center of her back, and her face warm and freckled in the light of the candle. Despite the foreboding environment, there was little hesitation in her step. She stalked around the corner towards the figure huddled in the dark. The lights of its eyes brightened again as it saw her.

“Hello…” she greeted quietly in a soft voice, “I’ve brought you dinner.”

The light of the candle revealed a strange contraption. It was human-like in build but composed of what one would say was porcelain if they hadn’t known better. His face resembled a skull, save that it had no hole for nose. Only black sockets dimly lit by on flickering yellow light each, and a set of “teeth” that decorated the lower half of his face. The cheeks, however, were gaping holes where thin wisps of steam ghosted out of. His figure resembled a skeleton, a white ribcage enveloping a tank in his chest. His limbs were thin with rings welded onto the wrists to accommodate the chains that prevented him from doing anything but stay seated on the floor.

“I filled it to the brim. It was a little trouble getting it down the stairs without spilling, but you need as much water as you can get.” The young woman kneeled and set the glass down on the floor before the robot. His moves were stiff and strained, but at the same time desperate as he picked it up and put it up to his face. Gaunt jaws parted as he poured it into his mouth, and the sound of an empty tin bucket slowly filling soon followed. Once done, a thicker string of steam slipped from the vents on the sides of his face, and he wordlessly stared at her.

“How does that feel, Thane?” She reached out and rested a hand on his head, which he leaned into graciously.

“Thank you,” replied the metal creature in a voice holding the depth of a canyon. The tone was thankful but distant as he observed the glass.

As long as he had been functioning, Thane understood very little of why he was there, but he had the sense that he had done something terrible. He had woken up, seated next to an old and expired man with very little understanding of anything, much less himself.

He was puzzled and distantly frightened. His first few seconds in the world and he had been instantly met with the presence of death. Curious to comprehend anything at all, he wandered about the workshop, picking through discarded projects, flipping through books he could not read, and finally meeting the stairs. He followed them up to the door and opened it, and quickly met with bright light.

The contrast was startling, going from a grungy cluttered workshop to a pristine hallway bathed in neutral colors and alluring design. To his misfortune, he was not allowed to wander further, as his presence was met with a scream and suddenly he found himself being wrestled back into the recesses of the workshop. There was a loud noise and everything became dark.

Slowly he came to, surrounded by stern eyes glaring down at him. He tried to get up, but the tug at his wrists disallowed him to stand.

“What are you, and what did you do to him?” asked a stern woman. The candle light turned the wrinkles of her face into hard lines, and her grey hair framed her face in an even more haunting manner.

“…do… to him?” His voice came out uncertain, but the depth in it was enough to startle his unwelcome audience.

“Yes you. You killed him, didn’t you? You killed my Alfred!” She took a swing at him, her knuckles hitting his head, resulting in a dull ring. The impact seemed like it hurt her, but it didn’t prevent the woman from trying to get at him again. The surrounding individuals grabbed her and held her back, though it was clear they were more concerned about her safety than they were about the cowering robot’s. “You monster! He’s is gone from me forever because of you!” She had broken down into tears now, and was slowly being guided away.

Thane stared up at the remaining three hovering over him.

“Search the room,” one said to the other.

——–

A half hour later and everything had been rifled through. The most notable thing that came out of the search was a letter and a will written in the old man’s handwriting. They had been tucked under his head where he lay on the small cot next to his desk.

Within the letter read:

My Dear Alexandria,

If you are reading this now, then it was possible that things did not work out the way I had planned. I spent twenty years trying to obtain immortality and this will be result of all my work. I will try to put my soul into the robot I’ve spent all this time building, so that I can love you and care for you forever. If this hasn’t worked out, then I suggest you keep the robot safe, for it is still a child of my craft. If you keep it powered with water, it will make a fine toy and something to remember me by.

With love,
Alfred

The family turned to the robot in question, leering down at it as they tried to determine whether or not this was still Alfred trapped in a metal shell. There was a sort of struggle etched into Alexandria’s old face as she tried to figure out what to make of the situation.

“Alfred?” she asked quietly. The robot merely stared at her, lost. She turned to one of the people beside her. “Go get some water. That’s what this thing runs on, right? Maybe that’s what he needs!” She stepped closer reaching out a hand, and the robot, having learned so well the first time, squirmed away from her and pressed himself closer to the wall, scraping polished metal with the surrounding bricks. “It’s me… Don’t you recognize me?”

“…recognize me?” he echoed back hesitantly. His dimly-lit sockets stayed trained on her and they studied one another quietly. The water soon arrived and she hurriedly handed it to him. It had to take another member of the family to hand it for him to accept it. He tapped the edge of the glass against his “teeth” before parting them and tipping the contents into his mouth until empty. The liquid sloshed into the tank below and clumsily he set the glass down.

“Better?” There was a strained hope in her voice that made it sound like she was about to tear in two. So far, nothing in this contraption appeared to be anything like her husband, aside from being his creation. Upon trying to accept this, she struggled for some reason to justify what she was finding out. She couldn’t be mad at the thing for killing her love, but after him doing something so dramatic, all she was left with was an oversized toy. Somehow, this summoned more repulsion.

The robot stared at her, still lost.

“What are you??” she screeched. The skeletal robot flinched away and Alexandria was restrained again. This time instead of fighting them, she had become limp and tired, her tense face giving way to despair. It was then everyone decided to take their leave, blowing out the candle light and leaving the metal abomination chained up in the dark.

The next day a servant was sent down with a glass of water, giving him one in the morning and one at night. Just enough to keep him running. And so it went on for two years

——–

As of late, the redheaded girl seemed to be the most consistent out of all those who visited him for his “meals”. In comparison to the other servants, she seemed to be the only one to genuinely take pity on him, handing him a brimming glass of water instead of the usual half and talking to him for as much time as she could get away with. Her name was Eleanora and she was the first one he deemed as what one would consider a friend. In her frequent visits she had managed to teach him more and more how to speak, and though he couldn’t manage eloquent sentences, he could understand and respond accordingly.

“Can you see in all this darkness, Thane?”

“No.”

Eleanora frowned. “Oh. I wanted to leave you books to keep you busy down here, but if you cannot see, then there’s not much use.” She paused for a moment, moving her hand down to one of his wrists and touching where the metal ring had been messily welded to his arm. “Perhaps I should… ‘lose’ my candle and then ‘lose’ my matches the next time around.”

“Lose your candle? How will you leave?”

“I’ve come through here so many times that I’ve memorized the path to you. Don’t worry.”

“I cannot read.”

“Then I will have to teach you.” She raised the candle between them and blew out the flame. “Have patience, Thane.” He felt as she pressed the candle into his hand. “And whenever anyone comes, hide the candle.”

With that, her hand slipped away from his and he heard her shuffle her way back to the stairs. Although he yearned for more words, all he could manage was to listen to the door shut behind her as he was left alone once more.