On a less dramatic note, Epsilon is capable of high-speed flight, even at high altitudes (presumably the fact that he propels himself with photon energy prevents the formation of ice crystals.)
As a robot, he has no need to breathe, he does not tire, he does not feel pain if he sustains damage. Also, he's made of metal, which helps a bit with that whole "sustaining damage" thing to begin with. He is, however, considered rather fragile for a robot.
Additional bonuses to being a robot include the ability to go back over his complete memory in 100% detail, the ability to analyse, calculate, and store massive amounts of data, and the ability to exchange memory chips with other robots or simply insert theirs to "borrow" their experiences and memories. Also, despite his superficially human appearance, his senses are dramatically different from those of a human. He sees with his "eyes" and hears with his "ears," but that is where the similarities end; he has no sense of taste, no sense of smell. Meanwhile, his visual perception and speed of processing exceed human limitations, and he does not suffer from inattentional blindness. He also possesses an ability intrinsic to all robots: the ability to identify other beings as robotic or nonrobotic, regardless of how convincingly programmed they may be they may be. (Well, almost. One robot is so near human that it produces mixed readings, but that's complicated and said robot is supposed to be the most perfect robot in existence. Also, for most of the series, this robot is not known to be a robot. He's believed by all--including himself--to be a human who lost most of his body in the war, creating confusing readings.) If the robot is from his canon, he has a chance of being able to identify said robot by serial number and/or model as well.
Finally--finally--Epsilon can detect living things within a fairly wide radius. This is most likely a safeguard related to his powers--if you created something that can replicate intensities of heat and light that vastly exceed that of a volcano, you probably don't want him "flying blind," so to speak.
First Person: [Epsilon is a little preoccupied, but as soon as he turns the watch video on, it has his undivided, direct attention. He takes the requisite moment to let his audience catch his face before speaking. Etiquette.]
This may be a trivial question for most of you, but I was wondering if the weather in this city is usually this overcast.
[Another second pause, and the video ends. That's all he has to ask.
Perhaps he'll be more talkative once he has some answers.]
Third Person: Epsilon walked silently, his eyes roaming uncertainly over the largely barren buildings and empty streets. The cloudy skies hung overhead, an iron-grey expanse of atmospheric oppression that weighed upon the city proper. It was no great stretch to acknowledge that the weather was a contributing factor to Epsilon's strangely disconcolate air; it was ever-present to him, a constant factor in his daily existence. As much as water, food, and air were necessary to human life, so sunlight was to him.
But why...? He did not understand how he was alive, or what he was meant to do with himself--the space between his annihilation and the train was not a space at all but a lack of one. He both knew and sensed the disorder with this--with his becoming, as it were, a being once again. He could not shake it. Walking, his quiet footfalls carried him around the city, in and out of its alleys and down its sparsely populated streets, but without a destination in mind, he was really only expressing aimlessness... no, not aimlessness--his helplessness.
He was helpless.
And understanding that was exactly what made him so scared.
Re: [CANON] Epsilon || Pluto || No Reserve
As a robot, he has no need to breathe, he does not tire, he does not feel pain if he sustains damage. Also, he's made of metal, which helps a bit with that whole "sustaining damage" thing to begin with. He is, however, considered rather fragile for a robot.
Additional bonuses to being a robot include the ability to go back over his complete memory in 100% detail, the ability to analyse, calculate, and store massive amounts of data, and the ability to exchange memory chips with other robots or simply insert theirs to "borrow" their experiences and memories. Also, despite his superficially human appearance, his senses are dramatically different from those of a human. He sees with his "eyes" and hears with his "ears," but that is where the similarities end; he has no sense of taste, no sense of smell. Meanwhile, his visual perception and speed of processing exceed human limitations, and he does not suffer from inattentional blindness. He also possesses an ability intrinsic to all robots: the ability to identify other beings as robotic or nonrobotic, regardless of how convincingly programmed they may be they may be. (Well, almost. One robot is so near human that it produces mixed readings, but that's complicated and said robot is supposed to be the most perfect robot in existence. Also, for most of the series, this robot is not known to be a robot. He's believed by all--including himself--to be a human who lost most of his body in the war, creating confusing readings.) If the robot is from his canon, he has a chance of being able to identify said robot by serial number and/or model as well.
Finally--finally--Epsilon can detect living things within a fairly wide radius. This is most likely a safeguard related to his powers--if you created something that can replicate intensities of heat and light that vastly exceed that of a volcano, you probably don't want him "flying blind," so to speak.
First Person: [Epsilon is a little preoccupied, but as soon as he turns the watch video on, it has his undivided, direct attention. He takes the requisite moment to let his audience catch his face before speaking. Etiquette.]
This may be a trivial question for most of you, but I was wondering if the weather in this city is usually this overcast.
[Another second pause, and the video ends. That's all he has to ask.
Perhaps he'll be more talkative once he has some answers.]
Third Person: Epsilon walked silently, his eyes roaming uncertainly over the largely barren buildings and empty streets. The cloudy skies hung overhead, an iron-grey expanse of atmospheric oppression that weighed upon the city proper. It was no great stretch to acknowledge that the weather was a contributing factor to Epsilon's strangely disconcolate air; it was ever-present to him, a constant factor in his daily existence. As much as water, food, and air were necessary to human life, so sunlight was to him.
But why...? He did not understand how he was alive, or what he was meant to do with himself--the space between his annihilation and the train was not a space at all but a lack of one. He both knew and sensed the disorder with this--with his becoming, as it were, a being once again. He could not shake it. Walking, his quiet footfalls carried him around the city, in and out of its alleys and down its sparsely populated streets, but without a destination in mind, he was really only expressing aimlessness... no, not aimlessness--his helplessness.
He was helpless.
And understanding that was exactly what made him so scared.