-- [ ♢ ; When she is not in a hurry she is walking, as opposed to the smooth glide her automated being can carry out. Though the careful steps she takes are more sluggish than her wavering, it does feel pleasant. Such a human act should not amuse her so, yet it does, and she never will show it. Emotions are not there, she reminds herself, so cease acting like it. But deep down inside, somewhere in that mechanical core that functions like a makeshift human heart, there is awareness that her travel companions know-- know that the no-longer-little Nasod queen does have an emotional circuit. Pleasure, joy, grief, sadness, regret... They all exist. It is just a matter of making the right move and uttering the right words to receive a response evoked with such a mere thing.
   Heeled boots create a click-clack noise as they come into contact with the marbled tiles below. Research never stops. There are always new codes to uncover to resurrect her race, or perhaps if desperate times called for such an act, recreate it. Recreate the Nasods into a whole new powerhouse that can be just as intelligent as her own code. Her patience is tried when a presence is sensed coming from behind her. Malicious, perhaps, but she is always at the ready with drones at her side and a sharp tongue to accompany.Â
   "If you wish to sneak up behind me then I advise you to do so more silently. And if that is not your motive, what have you to say to me?"Â
