Vox Maquinista

Vox Maquinista

 Seattle, Washington, USA



It was a simple place. There was no room for the kind of webs you weave. There was no chaos or confusion. No segregation. No hierarchy. No wars, or blood diamonds, or global warming. There was simply what was. And what wasn't. And after no rain fell from the sky for two years, there simply wasn't anymore.

Vox, the last of her kind, shot off in an outward direction from the dying, parched planet; the starkness of the eternal universe in front of her. Thousands of escape pods were flying past filled with families, set for a course that had been decided. Planned. But she.... Well she was a lone soldier... So she set off by herself in an uncharted destination.

Even with the time inhibitor, the journey became increasingly dull. Vox tried to occupy her time by entertaining herself... writing melodies to the buzzes and clicks of the machines surrounding her... Making costume pieces out of whatever she could spare... But it didn't matter how catchy the tunes were, or how sparkly the shoes, she was still missing something. Then a brilliant idea came to her. She decided to build a companion, someone to complete her work, and rock out with as time stood still across the heavens. Out of the spare parts and consciousness of her ship, Maquinista was born.

True to his name, (as Vox was true to hers) he became a machine in every sense of the word, and created hot dance-pop beats and sexy ambient lights to lay under Vox's solid and soaring vocals.

They continued across space and time, together.....