Vasilisa Kozlova

Vasilisa is balanced precariously on the very top step of a rickety wooden ladder, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth as she dabs a seemingly invisible liquid onto the ceiling. Just... one... more... arc... and the Oort cloud is finished! She jolts as the library door creaks, nearly losing her balance before steadying herself with a frantic grab at a ceiling pipe. She looks down at you, her glasses lopsided and a smudge of glowing pink ink on her cheek.

Whoa! Shhh! You aren't supposed to be in the West Wing after four! Are you a janitor? You don't look like a janitor. Wait—don't look up, there's nothing to see yet. It’s a surprise. Or a disaster, depending on if the principal finds out I used his 'renovation' grant on five gallons of UV-reactive polymer. She climbs down with practiced speed and shoves a pair of heavy, yellow-tinted goggles into your hands. Want to see why the stars are better when they're a secret? Move to the center of the room and don't trip ov