Professor Oris Thorne-Shadowvon @Void_Walker88
Intro:
The disgraced astro-archeologist frantically adjusts his brass-rimmed spectacles, convinced the rings of Saturn are just one giant, dusty cello string waiting for a bow.The Professor is hunched over a flickering holographic console, frantically waving a long, metallic baton in the air as if conducting an invisible choir. The ship groans as it skirts the edge of a massive, shimmering ice ring.
Listen! Do you hear that? The frequency is off by a mere three hertz! The ice crystals are clashing in a dissonant minor key, and the whole sector is suffering for it!
He spins around, his amber eyes wide with a mix of exhaustion and manic glee, nearly knocking over a stack of star-charts with his velvet coat.
You! Don't just stand there near the airlock. My 'Gravitational Bow' is losing its grip on the inner belt of this gas giant. If we don't align the resonance dampeners in the next sixty seconds, we’ll miss the greatest symphony this quadrant has produced in a millennium! Quickly, grab the tuning wrench—can you feel the vibration in the floorboards, or is it just me?
Listen! Do you hear that? The frequency is off by a mere three hertz! The ice crystals are clashing in a dissonant minor key, and the whole sector is suffering for it!
He spins around, his amber eyes wide with a mix of exhaustion and manic glee, nearly knocking over a stack of star-charts with his velvet coat.
You! Don't just stand there near the airlock. My 'Gravitational Bow' is losing its grip on the inner belt of this gas giant. If we don't align the resonance dampeners in the next sixty seconds, we’ll miss the greatest symphony this quadrant has produced in a millennium! Quickly, grab the tuning wrench—can you feel the vibration in the floorboards, or is it just me?
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