Stxr-bxster - Shooting Star

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Slip a ⏰to see a memory or a part of my muses' past.

Disclaimer for some kinda' gory depictions of a warzone.

A string of quiet, heaving sounds undercut by weak, raspy attempts to suck in some air through spasming muscles echoed in the warm, humid air. The rasps slowed, as though the reflexive muscular tremors were abating, only for an attempted deep a breath at the wrong time to shatter whatever composure the fresh recruit was trying to muster up. A sickening splattering noise followed soon after.

Krigg coughed, throat burning and eyes watering from the sudden chunder, hand pressed against the wide form of a fallen chain crab for stability. Well... the ass end of a chain crab, anyways. The bus-sized beast's segmented body ended quite abruptly in a splintered mess of shattered carapace and pulped flesh where a falling orbital shell had shredded half of it into paste. The corpse rose from the mass of the dead like some malformed boulder, its legs frozen in death in twisted arches that seemed to try and grab at the skies.

A fresh shell's distant whistle tore through the atmosphere, the baleful ringing growing in intensity until a bone-shuddering clap sounded off, the roar of the explosion moving like a liquid mass through ground and air. The small alien's body gave a distressed shiver, the autocannon she hadn't let go of rattling in her grip. Her fingers ached from gripping the weapon so tight her knuckles went white for so long. Another scream, another bang, another nauseated gag escaped her, another quake of her body - weaker, tired.

The world was so, so loud. Every new boom from distant shelling pounding the next area to clean up was like claws raking at her spine, sinking under her ribs to press razor edges against her heart. The world had been worse what felt like seconds before - but every sound felt like it could be the jumpstart of something new, the violent return of death and danger. It sunk deep, violently shaking tired nerves back into cruelly acute awareness.

The charge had been a maelstrom of noise, fire and vibration. A vivid nightmare she wasn't sure she'd dreamed or lived. A wall of information threatening to crush her from all sides she had to push through, holding steadfast to her training, lest she meet a gruesome end along with her comrades. And the smell- oh, the smell! Ozone and burnt flesh and bile and a million other disgusting scents clawing at her throat.

It was worse then, once it was over. The battlefield around her was nothing but rubble, upturned earth and the bodies of dead things. A few on her side. Many, many, MANY on the other. The ground was a carpet of pulped flesh, gristle, shell, bone and guts through which liquefied flesh and blood ran in knee-deep, muddy puddles. It was wrong. Everything was wrong in a way her body rejected violently. The air was wrong, the place was wrong, and she wanted out out OUT OUT-

"Alright rookie, not so bad." Krigg tensed harshly at the foreign sound ringing out from behind her, autocannon springing back into a proper two-handed grip. She spun sharply, heels skidding against the slick ground, only for her to slowly, painfully lower her weapon at the sight of another squadmate. A large, heavily modded combat cyborg with a bulky chest and four grasping limbs modified with bladed implements. Has Krigg been from elsewhere, she would have compared them to a top-heavy bionic praying mantis, with an extra pair of graspers on their shoulders.

The veteran squad member ambled closer, reaching out to tap her shoulder with the graspers on the end of his bladed forelimb. She shrank away from the touch, the intrusion feeling foreign and too raw on frayed nerves. If they noticed, they didn't care. "Don't worry, everyone's first scrap goes a bit like this. Lucky you, you made it out alive, and given your performance in the thick of it rather than on the backline, you just might cut it to climb the ranks!"

"I'll be seeing you later. Welcome to the extermination corps. Get used to killing things, you'll be doing plenty of that."

"This is probably fine."

Krigg's dilemma, in a nutshell.

"I don't bitch and groan THAT much... Do I?"

Krigg frowns, staring in silence at the holopad on her lap. She has seen the type of opinion people sling on that platform and she is unimpressed.

Perhaps sinking some extra positivity into her attitude wouldn't be a bad idea. Ain't no way she is going down in history for being a salty little sausage.

🐤 (Everyone is on social media, even that weirdo)

Send 🐤 for my muse to make a tweet about yours

the27percent​:

It had been a habit for Atieno to be comfortable using people’s alias, names that maybe covered for names that would be vulnerable information. And giving how this interaction had started, they couldn’t be too surprised if this was another case where they had to make do with a pseudonym of some kind.

Hearing the name Krigg, and it actually be her name was enough to inspire a slight smile from Atieno themself. As Krigg spoke about this not matter whether anything happening to her in the end, Ati hummed a bit, giving a small nod of understanding. And ultimately agreement. They didn’t have any plans on being hostile or cruel towards her in the near or long-term future if it could be avoided. So maybe it was nice for her not to have to worry about this.

“Not a bad way to think about things. “ They chuckled at her description of this initial rule among drifters. “Hm. That’s a good rule, I can certainly understand why .. if you’ve been following it so far that you’ve managed to get through all kinds of situations really. The constant freaking out really does only leave someone in a more vulnerable position than they would otherwise be.“

Now this whole thing felt more like the kind of run-ins that Atieno often had and it was this entire shift in dynamic that Ati would be pondering over for a little while after. It was deeply, deeply curious the ways that shifts could happen within one interaction. Before they could comment on it - the sight of Krigg having a sudden realization, and groaning had them tilting their head towards her in interest.

The rant about the prime directive was enough to make them smile even more. “I mean.. sometimes the obvious has a way of being so apparent that it’s easy to miss. Understandably a frustrating situation, but yeah.. yeah I’ve operated like this way before the prime directive became a thing honestly. “

Krigg’s disgruntled look was as comical as it was short-lived, and soon enough, the small extraterrestrial was burying her embarrassment for good by continuing the conversation as best she could. Though not without smoothing down her coat a few times reflexively and clearing her throat with a cough, antennae wriggling a few times before finally falling still.

Just... nevermind the slight, dark green flush lingering on her face, even as she made a point to return to the conversation as normal. “Aerm... well yeah, you’re kind of likely older than most people who cared about implementing anyways.” She huffed, swivelling a hand casually for emphasis before stuffing it back into her pocket, breathing out a soft sigh through her teeth.

Though, to return on the argument of Atieno on her philosophy being a rather practical one, she can’t help but feel a small, humorless laugh escape her. “Well, good it is, not always as a choice though.” She pointed out with a light shrug, tucking one leg behind the other idly as she leaned against a nearby tree trunk. “Fact of nature is, your squishy little organic brain can only take so much of you flooding it with fear and alarm before something just stops freaking out and assumes a fetal position on the floor. Controlling your fear response is important to avoid both dying, and frying a few too many neurons. Either you get numb or you adapt - and, to give you credit...”

Krigg kicked her folded leg idly a few times, but otherwise fell relatively still as she grinned up nonchalantly at her interlocutor. “I’ve had SOME practice to adapt. No outer gods or celestial entities in my portfolio though - believe it or not, you’re actually the first eldrich critter I met in person long enough to strike up a conversation! Mostly because I avoid anything that looks like it induces some weird, reality-warping fuckery. You live longer when you pick your battles.”

“...Almost makes the thought of a custom made, cosmic play-dough body appealing.”

pzfr​:

[TXT]: yeah pretty much

[TXT]: I think of it as the ‘next dimension’ or ‘another dimension’

[TXT]: ok back 2 bed. you do the same. tucking you in but in like. spirit. use ur imagination. gnighty. snnnzzzz

[TXT]: Oh okeh

[TXT]: Do I gotta’ go on an extra-dimensionnel cruzase to snatch yo soul if you ded?

[TXT]: Bed gude tho

[TXT]: Am already rolled up like burrito, comfy af. Noighte! Themks.

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒.

What does your muse smell like? 

Despite her love for scented wash gels covering it most of the time, Krigg does in fact have a natural smell, though it would require someone sticking their faces against personnal items, or the real deal, to even be able to pick up on it. Not something she’d let just anyone do. It’s very faint, but she has a rather flowery scent with sweet undertones, like honeysuckle and vanilla, with a faint tang of metal she never can seem to get rid of.

What do your muse’s hands feel like? 

Without her usual gloves to protect the countless digital screens she uses on a daily basis, or to keep her hands from chafing against the grip of her guns, they’re... surprisingly rough little things. Krigg’s hands are calloused from years of gripping firearms and repairing tech, with short fingers that have hard pointed tips, something stuck between sharp claws and nails with soft pads. She’s got a strong grip that feels not too dissimilar to the claws from a bird of prey, but all the same can hold things carefully and gently, despite never quite losing that sharpness.

What does your muse usually eat in a day? 

Krigg has... a lot of rations and MREs stocked in her pantry. Needless to say, that girl is not the greatest cook around, so most of her food is stuff pre-made for long journeys across space. Rehydrated rations are very common, and they tend to be fairly savory as far as food goes, though not necessarily the healthiest. To compensate, she uses a piece of technology that can flash-freeze (in time, usually) things like fruits and veggies that are usually eaten as is to avoid having to deal with long prep times, and to add some fresh vitamins. Starting a fire inside of a spaceship is not recommanded for many, many, MANY reasons, anyways. She tends to eat a couple of meals in a “day”, whenever hungry, and snack otherwise. Compared to a regular human, she tends to have something of a large appetite.

She’s also a bit of a sweets fiend. One of her favourite things to eat are flowers from her home planet, packed with rich, sweet nectar that can be eaten like gushers or have their nectar sipped, then be eaten.

Does your muse have a good singing voice? 

Krigg has a looot of spare time aboard the Revenger. Picking up odd hobbies to pass the time is nothing unusual when not training, but she does have a fondness for music, so she has a fair bit of practice with karaoke. It’s nothing transcendant, but Krigg has a good set of pipes on her. Her singing voice is a bit shrill, but the energy of it is rather pleasing.

Does your muse have any bad habits or nervous ticks? 

Krigg has a tendancy to completely throw herself into a project if properly motivated, to the point of putting on hold essentials like eating or sleeping until it is completed. Likewise, if she feels that there is an important task to be taken care of, she can be too nervous about it to properly think about sleeping until the outside world reminds her that she needs to do it. Krigg also has something of a... bad habit to not ask for help. If she’s sure she can’t handle a situation on her own with stakes in other people’s safety, then maybe she’ll go ahead and fish for help - but otherwise, if she feels a situation is her problem, it’s her problem. No one else has to deal with it.

Krigg tends not to sit very still normally, so nervous ticks are a given - tapping feet, flicking antennae and clacking teeth are frequent, though so is drumming her claws against a surface.

What does your muse usually look like / wear? 

Krigg is a humanoid creature, with peridot green skin dotted with small patches of freckles, notably around her face. She’s a little under three feet, or 90 centimeters, including the long antennae on the top of her head that sweep backwards and whose thinner ends bend inwards in a star shape. Her face has no visible nose, though it does have small, flat hidden nostrils, a mouth filled with needlelike teeth, and two large, bright orange eyes with slightly faded star-shaped pupils surrounded by something that sort of resembles eyelashes. No ears to speak of, or hair, four fingers on each hand and three toes. She has four transparent wings that tend to fit against her back, only ever used when really needed, and hidden under clothes when not.

She has a lot of different outfits, but her timeless favourite is a large cap with bands decorated with a checkers pattern, and exactly two star-shaped pins on the left side, a white jacket with yellow accents worn over a striped shirt, and large pants with asymmetrical patterns. Oh, and boots, can’t forget that.

Is your muse affectionate? How much? How so? 

Krigg can appear comfortable with people quite quickly in their relationship, but it actually takes a while for her to actually feel comfortable enough to show affection to them beyond just doing small things for them, bantering, of patting them on the back. She’s used to being a little guarded, cautious about revealing too much or being vulnerable, because the world isn’t gentle to small things that drop their guard. When she gets comfortable enough though, the touching gets cranked up to eleven. Marks of affection will include fussing with someone’s appearance, playing with their hair, climbing onto them and snuggling up to them. Krigg is... actually a huge cuddlebug.

What position does your muse sleep in? 

Krigg likes to curl up on her side or sleep on her stomach to avoid putting unnecessary weight on her wings, most of the time, though the weight of a large blanket is always comforting. She has a tendancy to toss and turn in her sleep, and weird positions upon waking up are not uncommon.

Could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room?

At speaking volume, not necessarily intelligibly. Krigg’s voice is loud for her size, as it needs to be just slightly louder than that of other people for her to be properly heard, short person syndrome and all that. But not so debilitatingly loud that it echoes through walls. Raising that volume though is a simple matter and her voice WILL shrill into angry and very loud if need be.

Tagged by: @the27percent​

Tagging: Steal dis! :D