Conan Doyle drew this when he passed his medical exams
description: a simple doodle of a man in a pea-coat, jumping for joy. he's holding a piece of paper headed DIPLOMA. underneath him in cursive, it says 'Licensed to kill'
their superstructure is actually a drilling rig to siphon pockets of undersea Void fluid, done through a precarious series of pipes and processes that minimizes erosion. it was built as demand for Void baths grew and terrestrial locations dried up, staffed mostly by engineers, mechanics, and researchers as well as their families.
because of this, their superstructure is small -- the smallest in their local group, in fact, a tenth of the size of pebble's superstructure. being on water means they're not as vulnerable to the seismic activities that would bring other superstructures down, but that's little comfort when they're being eaten away by the ocean waves, a far more deadly beast.
wind's dying. slowly, molecule by molecule, water rending their hull to particles. without anyone to maintain them, their drainage ducts have long been clogged and unusable. some of the tension cables are on their last wires from years of being used as leviathan chew toys.
grey wind is chasing wind. was. and also not. it's complicated, especially to wind themself. they had two activation events: one as a second-generation, and later, their current self born with third-generation enhancements. their admins had deactivated the first wind -- chasing wind -- for a reason that's been wiped out of their memory confluxes but still burns with the jagged wounds of mutiny. the new wind is muzzled in ambition; their engineers dug into the guts of their code and removed every emotional conduit, so they may never feel strongly about anything again. no anger, no fear, no sorrow, no joy, just an endless sea of grey, grey, grey.
(sometimes they pluck at a red mood that they think is anger. something aching far away. an injustice, they thought, in the same passing tones one might think about a war crime the world over.)
wind's good friends with inno. wind's inno's ONLY good friend, mostly because they're emotionally incapable of getting pissed off at her. she's tried for a long few cycles, dug up every ragebait in her files and then some, and nothing. inno gave up, and now she really likes wind. nobody else really tolerates her like they do.
as for the other iterators in their local group, wind maintained cordial relationships with all of them. they and moon exchanged papers on void fluid mechanics. sig pestered them for their vulture schematics. wind didn't really talk to pebbles; even their discovery of Erratic Pulse didn't evoke much concern outside of "this should be reported".
more search for levi art. I have this headcanon that maybe levi is not a literal leviathan but it looks similar to one that many people misunderstood it (its tail is actually really long wires knot together. I mix "hummer is levi" to this idea too)
personally i think it'd be super funny if erid was like, REALLY concerned about the ethical implications of "keeping an intelligent individual "trapped" in an enclosure where they might feel pressured to not speak up and simply do what other eridians tell them out of fear of death", so they have a whole ethics committee full of social workers and eridian rights lawyers and stuff. meanwhile grace is just like "hey my zookeepers, can you make it rain in my cage tomorrow. thanks <3"
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