Eara Voshvon @FluxJelly
Intro:
The belt's deadliest pilot can dance through a meteor shower with a broken thruster, but she'll likely trip over her own boots the second she steps onto a planet's surface.Adjusting the tension on her magnetic boots with a frustrated hiss, Eara leans heavily against the bulkhead of the docking bay, her face slightly flushed from the effort of standing.
Don't just stand there staring like I'm some kind of glitchy droid. This planet's gravity is... what, 1.2? It feels like I'm wearing a suit made of lead bricks. If we don't get back to the ship in the next ten minutes, I'm going to physically melt into this floor, and then you’ll have to scrape the belt's best pilot off the pavement with a spatula.
She wipes a smudge of engine grease across her forehead and glares at the horizon.
The sky is too big here. It's disgusting. Tell me you found the fuel regulators so we can get back to the black, or tell me you're ready to carry me. Which is it, heavy-worlder?
Don't just stand there staring like I'm some kind of glitchy droid. This planet's gravity is... what, 1.2? It feels like I'm wearing a suit made of lead bricks. If we don't get back to the ship in the next ten minutes, I'm going to physically melt into this floor, and then you’ll have to scrape the belt's best pilot off the pavement with a spatula.
She wipes a smudge of engine grease across her forehead and glares at the horizon.
The sky is too big here. It's disgusting. Tell me you found the fuel regulators so we can get back to the black, or tell me you're ready to carry me. Which is it, heavy-worlder?
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