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Welome to Land In The Stars, and Original Science-Fantasy RPG focused on the drama, war, and politics of the Noble Houses of a stagnating interstellar Empire. Inspired by great works of Fantasy and Science Fiction alike to tell a saga of intimate characterization and epic plot!


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Captain's Call (Far Marches, Aboard Ship), 4/4
House Durant
House Durant

Veilais
Female
s= she | her | hers

Datafile

Played By

ShadowedSin

#1
"A painful sorrow."

He had called her to his quarter's again, and she was unsure if she wanted to go. Her body was rigid as she stared in the two mevre mirror. Her pale skinned form was long and curved a bit at the hip, as undead muscle moved beneath her plastic looking skin. Several white scars gently marked the back of legs from abuse years ago. Her breasts still had a nice bounce to them, but again, there was a singular glaring error across her chest. The stitches and staples which showed where her skin went up her chest and over her chest cavity. A scar over her neck showed where they had inserted her new voice box.

"I am a freak. What does he see in me." Her flangy voice reminded her of infaerin status and pushed her closer to objectifying herself One of many problems with being an abuse survivor, she pulled on the body suit over her scars and her nude body. Long black hair oiled to keep it hydrated draped over her back. The Ichor kept her hair growing as long as she took supplements to fuel it.

The thrum of the Aeon-Flux drive calmed her as she opened the door of her cabin and exited to make her way down the primary corridor of the officer's deck. As the communication's officer, her job was to maintain the locrealms of the ship and to keep the data feeding in. Serving a Pirate Lord meant she had to be ready to awake at all times. Why, she wasn't always sure. Her long hair this time was tied back formed a long pony tail.

She admired the dark black ink done over her scarred legs and hummed a little bit as she started to think all the work she'd done to cover up all her damaged skin. Extra torcs spent on ink and plastic surgery to fix years abuse on her body. If she hadn't been so stupid she would never had worked for anyone who would have treated her in such a fashion. But no, she was a fool and never told her Proctors about it at all.

She reached the door of her destination and pressed the notifier button. It ringed as she leaned against the cold metal of the corridor. Plasteel always felt weird against her numbed skin. Green electric glowing eyes burned out their light. Stasya mustered her courage and stood there in her bare feet and the suit. Her breathing increasing along with her anxiety.

"Are you there sir?" she asked aloud as she pushed the intercom button by the door.
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