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..in the silence..of winter..life goes on..with a new rebirth…
@sweet-harmony
there seems to be no room as the buildings scrape the sky but I cannot wait to be on the road again
i am leaving again and each time the clarity of home blurs like an outdated atlas until all that remains are coordinates of memory scattered across unfamiliar skies
(Photo: d.)
Traveller Mongoose Badass Pilot
Name: Sarara Pretorius Age: 34 Race: Human Height: 178 cm / 5'83" Pronouns: she/her RPG system: Traveller
She used to fly - literally - and there’s still something about her that feels like motion. Sharp eyes, steady hands, the kind of calm that only comes from knowing exactly what to do when things go wrong.
Sarara is too confident. If she keeps charging ahead like this, she’ll be out. She’ll miscalculate eventually—no one has a perfect streak. Ha, and did you hear? They thawed her out wrong recently. Now it’s just a matter of time before her dulled reflexes fail to react in time. She’s going to get what’s coming to her.
Things like that had been said behind Sarara’s back for years - sometimes in whispers, sometimes without much care if she heard. She didn’t seem to care either, though the cigarettes she smoked and the occasional whiskey she drank told a different story.
Always damn confident. Ambitious, assertive, demanding respect from others and never letting anyone walk over her. She was quick to use her newly gained authority to enforce discipline. Even back in the academy, it was clear she was on a fast track to promotions and a rising career. She befriended engineers and other pilots, especially those who matched or surpassed her skill. Sarara, called Sara, Rara, or Rari for short, enjoyed being around people who pushed her to grow. Always standing straight as a rod, but with them, she could laugh, drink, and dance.
She flew for most of her adult life, long enough for it to reshape her. She knows how to read a storm on the horizon, how to stay calm when alarms go off, how to give clear orders even when her hands are shaking.
Over time, however, she grew more serious, and each promotion brought heavier responsibilities. You could see the toll in the dark circles under her eyes and the way she rarely laughed anymore. Her biggest curse had always been perfectionism. She gave everything she had to be the best at everything she did. And slowly, it burned her out. Her pride didn’t take well to the decline in her condition after some idiots messed up her thawing process.
She knows what it’s like to watch everything fall apart midair. That kind of knowledge settles deep. You carry it even when the sky is far behind you. Despite everything, she was still damn good. And that only made her more self-assured - even arrogant. The thing about arrogance is, it warps your risk assessment. And that’s exactly what happened on the mission that ended her career.
Now, Sarara’s goal is to redefine her sense of worth and meaning - not rooted in military honors, glory, or victories. She wants to do something useful - not out of duty, but from a genuine desire to be at peace with herself. And in some way, to atone for the mission that failed because of her recklessness.
Maybe she'll bring a little good into the world. Or maybe at least secure some decent pay and a taste of adrenaline - two things she was sorely missing.
my boyfriend let me borrow his switch since i got sick and it's my first time ever using one. he's created a little gaming monster. i don't know if i've finished a single book since i started playing games...
the games in question:
Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move.
- Alfred Lord Tennyson