- Joined
- Apr 4, 2012
- Messages
- 2,975
- Reaction score
- 40
Sacul was a jewel hidden in the folds of wild space. It drifted along, with shimmering blue waters, pristine emerald forests, and bright cities. But the rare touches of the Galaxy the planet experienced had always brought misfortune. Every time, the Snamreg grew more cunning, swifter, and less afraid of the shadows where they hid. It should have been considered a marvel.
The largest city, Skagrit, was a capital of shining blue glass tiles and silver steel. Everyone wanted an ocean view, almost to defy the hypnosis of the night time waters, where ancient monsters still lived and ate. Della herself was sitting in a restaurant that overlooked the evening waters, but her gaze was not towards the ocean, it was towards the sky. Dangerous stars that hid more than her people could ever know. To her, they were a reminder of darkness, love, chaos, order, and the friendships who helped her survive.
Friendships that kept her connected. By her people's standards, she should have been approaching middle age. Even with the increasing quality of health care, the Snamreg were still at a lifespan of sixty years. Della knew she would live longer than that. Soon, her people would as well. But yet, the friendships she forged in those stars were warning her. A friend was in dire trouble.
Della's mind saw images of chaos and pain. She knew where it was coming from, but she couldn't simply just leave the planet. No, she was a prisoner on her homeworld. Bound by a bargain that kept her people safe.
She was waiting for the arrival of the one who wrote the contract.
The restaurant was elegant. Golden in its interior and dimly lit. Della knew she would not recognize her guest when he arrived. He had that sort of habit. Her glass of ice water rested. The menus remained untouched. Della had ordered a bottle of beachberry mead. A sweet, vanilla like fruit that was expensive to bottle. It sat uncorked in its bucket of ice and next to two glasses.
As for Della herself, she knew her own celebrity caused attention. She didn't need papers to gossip about the latest potential suitor. She had her hair tucked elegantly into a a small heart-shaped hat with light blue netting to partially cover her face. Her facial tattoos were important, but hard to cover. Her outfit was modest, lacking anything couture. She nervously fidgeted her her napkin.
The largest city, Skagrit, was a capital of shining blue glass tiles and silver steel. Everyone wanted an ocean view, almost to defy the hypnosis of the night time waters, where ancient monsters still lived and ate. Della herself was sitting in a restaurant that overlooked the evening waters, but her gaze was not towards the ocean, it was towards the sky. Dangerous stars that hid more than her people could ever know. To her, they were a reminder of darkness, love, chaos, order, and the friendships who helped her survive.
Friendships that kept her connected. By her people's standards, she should have been approaching middle age. Even with the increasing quality of health care, the Snamreg were still at a lifespan of sixty years. Della knew she would live longer than that. Soon, her people would as well. But yet, the friendships she forged in those stars were warning her. A friend was in dire trouble.
Della's mind saw images of chaos and pain. She knew where it was coming from, but she couldn't simply just leave the planet. No, she was a prisoner on her homeworld. Bound by a bargain that kept her people safe.
She was waiting for the arrival of the one who wrote the contract.
The restaurant was elegant. Golden in its interior and dimly lit. Della knew she would not recognize her guest when he arrived. He had that sort of habit. Her glass of ice water rested. The menus remained untouched. Della had ordered a bottle of beachberry mead. A sweet, vanilla like fruit that was expensive to bottle. It sat uncorked in its bucket of ice and next to two glasses.
As for Della herself, she knew her own celebrity caused attention. She didn't need papers to gossip about the latest potential suitor. She had her hair tucked elegantly into a a small heart-shaped hat with light blue netting to partially cover her face. Her facial tattoos were important, but hard to cover. Her outfit was modest, lacking anything couture. She nervously fidgeted her her napkin.