Fabula Caromed
Belle of the Brawl
"Old Town," Adjesk, Corulag
Every once in a while, Fabula found herself getting so wrapped up in experiencing the galaxy that she forgot about simple things like "food" and "fuel." Somewhere over some backwater, washed-up antique of a planet the Bloody Pilgrim simply refused to go any further. She didn't quite have to make an emergency landing, but...well, it was very much a hurried and slightly anxious landing. It might have been a nervously cautious landing if she hadn't managed to find at least one spaceport on the entire planet that had enough room for something other than a Y-series freighter.
With her ship sorted and refueling, Fabs found ways to occupy her time. Normal ecuminopolis planets tended to bore her greatly, but this one was almost decrepit. Its glory days were clearly long-gone, and no restoration effort had been made on it, meaning there would be little chance of it bouncing back like Taris. The stench of regret and nostalgia was as thick in the air as the heavy pollen from the world attempting to reclaim was once its own. The people either languished in an apathy-induced malaise or raged against a prison of atrophy. It had all of the frantic emotions of any other urbanized planet, but quieter and with more meaning. Fabula found herself getting lost in it very easily.
So lost, in fact, that the trappings of civilization began to peel away without her even noticing for some time. The standard, angular gray omnipresent in every megopolis ever looked faded and dusty, as if no one had maintained it in years. The buildings were half-decrepit, a clear sign that the only apocalypse this planet had suffered was one of stagnation. At the very edges of Adjesk, Fabula had long since stopped seeing people, and was instead surrounded by a ghost town that gradually found itself devoured by what seemed to be the very fundamentals of a resurging forest. It was a tragedy to lose so much work to the onslaught of time, but Fabs still found herself admiring the planet's ability to reassert itself after what had to have been thousands of years of subjugation.
There were the calls of wild things. Creatures whose ancestors had once been domesticated ran feral at the edges of her vision, and the busty clone couldn't help but smile at the triumph of life over the sterility of industrial progress. So few people appreciated the verge of civilization, the gray area between safety and wilderness. It was, naturally, Fabula's very favorite place to be. She could wander about these dusty old streets for days if need be.
[member="Vorhi Alestrani"]
Every once in a while, Fabula found herself getting so wrapped up in experiencing the galaxy that she forgot about simple things like "food" and "fuel." Somewhere over some backwater, washed-up antique of a planet the Bloody Pilgrim simply refused to go any further. She didn't quite have to make an emergency landing, but...well, it was very much a hurried and slightly anxious landing. It might have been a nervously cautious landing if she hadn't managed to find at least one spaceport on the entire planet that had enough room for something other than a Y-series freighter.
With her ship sorted and refueling, Fabs found ways to occupy her time. Normal ecuminopolis planets tended to bore her greatly, but this one was almost decrepit. Its glory days were clearly long-gone, and no restoration effort had been made on it, meaning there would be little chance of it bouncing back like Taris. The stench of regret and nostalgia was as thick in the air as the heavy pollen from the world attempting to reclaim was once its own. The people either languished in an apathy-induced malaise or raged against a prison of atrophy. It had all of the frantic emotions of any other urbanized planet, but quieter and with more meaning. Fabula found herself getting lost in it very easily.
So lost, in fact, that the trappings of civilization began to peel away without her even noticing for some time. The standard, angular gray omnipresent in every megopolis ever looked faded and dusty, as if no one had maintained it in years. The buildings were half-decrepit, a clear sign that the only apocalypse this planet had suffered was one of stagnation. At the very edges of Adjesk, Fabula had long since stopped seeing people, and was instead surrounded by a ghost town that gradually found itself devoured by what seemed to be the very fundamentals of a resurging forest. It was a tragedy to lose so much work to the onslaught of time, but Fabs still found herself admiring the planet's ability to reassert itself after what had to have been thousands of years of subjugation.
There were the calls of wild things. Creatures whose ancestors had once been domesticated ran feral at the edges of her vision, and the busty clone couldn't help but smile at the triumph of life over the sterility of industrial progress. So few people appreciated the verge of civilization, the gray area between safety and wilderness. It was, naturally, Fabula's very favorite place to be. She could wander about these dusty old streets for days if need be.
[member="Vorhi Alestrani"]
