Until her arrival on the islands, Chloe had never given much thought to deities. Aside from absorbing their myths and legends, there had been no need. She had been at the side of a man who thought himself a god amongst men. The creator of new life (no matter how much the 'aliveness' of androids has been contested).
Yet her mind isn't closed to the notion of a higher power. Especially given the experiences that the science that has shaped her life, and gave birth to it, cannot fully explain. Her world, so crafted and sheltered, has been opened in ways that should have only been in the realm of the fantastical. The impossible. Or improbable, at the very least. And so in a land of improbable and impossible things, there's no telling what could be within reach.
This island is a special place. For all her questions and continual analysis, it's largely been a haven. To give a form of thanks for being able to experience some contentment, she has helped adorn the temple with flowers both real and crafted from the bright fabric found on the island. While the fabric creations won't last forever, they won't wilt as quickly as the real flowers. Her gratitude needs more permanence.
The unfurling of the bud reminds her of beginning to admit to others about being an android; fearful and with the threat of monstrous consequence only to reveal something that could be so very beautiful. It has Chloe watch in awed fascination, both anxious and anticipatory. She's patient as she waits her turn, though a few glances are cast to the guards. There's the wariness of setting a foot wrong, of causing offence to the Oracle.
When it's her turn, she offers her sacrifice; a bouquet of those delicately made fabric flowers. In the centre is a large rose but unlike the others, it's been coloured blue with the thirium that runs through her artificial veins.
"Thank you for seeing me," she says softly. Is it necessary? Maybe not. But it feels right. Though she doesn't continue to dither, not wishing to waste the Oracle's time nor take more than her share of that time. So it's time for a question. Out of the myriad that could be asked, the knowledge that could be gained about the Traveler's circumstances, Chloe finally settled on a personal one. Maybe it's selfish. It probably is. But this is about the improbable. What she's thought to be impossible.
Chloe
Yet her mind isn't closed to the notion of a higher power. Especially given the experiences that the science that has shaped her life, and gave birth to it, cannot fully explain. Her world, so crafted and sheltered, has been opened in ways that should have only been in the realm of the fantastical. The impossible. Or improbable, at the very least. And so in a land of improbable and impossible things, there's no telling what could be within reach.
This island is a special place. For all her questions and continual analysis, it's largely been a haven. To give a form of thanks for being able to experience some contentment, she has helped adorn the temple with flowers both real and crafted from the bright fabric found on the island. While the fabric creations won't last forever, they won't wilt as quickly as the real flowers. Her gratitude needs more permanence.
The unfurling of the bud reminds her of beginning to admit to others about being an android; fearful and with the threat of monstrous consequence only to reveal something that could be so very beautiful. It has Chloe watch in awed fascination, both anxious and anticipatory. She's patient as she waits her turn, though a few glances are cast to the guards. There's the wariness of setting a foot wrong, of causing offence to the Oracle.
When it's her turn, she offers her sacrifice; a bouquet of those delicately made fabric flowers. In the centre is a large rose but unlike the others, it's been coloured blue with the thirium that runs through her artificial veins.
"Thank you for seeing me," she says softly. Is it necessary? Maybe not. But it feels right. Though she doesn't continue to dither, not wishing to waste the Oracle's time nor take more than her share of that time. So it's time for a question. Out of the myriad that could be asked, the knowledge that could be gained about the Traveler's circumstances, Chloe finally settled on a personal one. Maybe it's selfish. It probably is. But this is about the improbable. What she's thought to be impossible.
"...Could I ever earn having a soul?"