Really edgy
Being thrust back into the world of the living brought with it many issues, events that Lirka had entirely missed out: colleagues and trusted “associates” lost to the all-consuming void of battle, but these were commonplace things to one who had lived well over a century at this point. No, the most annoying part was the complete and utter state of disrepair that her armor was left it. They had given it little mind after they tore her burned and wrecked corpse from the ruins of Zomnira, and only through the very stern blade-diplomacy of her sole Bodyguard lost to the stars was it not melted down for the raw materials that went into it’s creation. Reforged, refitted, and now in need of modification.
And so, she had ended up on Denon: the mercenary trash the Confederacy had hired having their own little tech under their wing, useful enough to one such as her. The “Sephi” had quickly decided she hated Denon. She hated City Worlds. She hated the aliens that didn’t know how to just get out of her way, she liked that about humans now: they were intimidated enough to just step aside when she started walking. So the armored behemoth of a woman made her way down to the shop of one [member="Olive Theila"]
Lirka entered the shop, nearly hitting her head on entry. Merely looking around the clutter, not quite the establishments she was used to: but not too dissimilar then the shop of the armorsmith who had originally made her baroque plate all those years ago above Anzat. She said nothing at first, if she knew these vendors right this little rat of a woman would come to her first.
And so, she had ended up on Denon: the mercenary trash the Confederacy had hired having their own little tech under their wing, useful enough to one such as her. The “Sephi” had quickly decided she hated Denon. She hated City Worlds. She hated the aliens that didn’t know how to just get out of her way, she liked that about humans now: they were intimidated enough to just step aside when she started walking. So the armored behemoth of a woman made her way down to the shop of one [member="Olive Theila"]
Lirka entered the shop, nearly hitting her head on entry. Merely looking around the clutter, not quite the establishments she was used to: but not too dissimilar then the shop of the armorsmith who had originally made her baroque plate all those years ago above Anzat. She said nothing at first, if she knew these vendors right this little rat of a woman would come to her first.