For a girl of nobility, she had seen so few worlds, but she had read of and heard of many of the ones she had not had the chance to visit. Her mother and father had seen to it that she was afforded the best education of the worlds that credits could buy, as well as the indulgence of all her interests, and her home life had been nothing short of pleasant at a minimum, because of it. If not for the fact that she was nothing more than a pretty face in the shadow of her firstborn sister, or for the fact that her father was dead on account of being a Sith…
...well, let’s not go down that road just yet. The family had pulled up, and moved on. Best not to dwell on it, no. Her mother had wasted little time in remarrying and gaining stepsiblings for her two girls. Things were looking up, life was brighter, but not for Marselia. No… she had loved her father. She had been the most enthralled by him. She had been the most confused, the most angry, the furthest in denial. But she saw, too, as the deepest of the grieving passed, just what her father had become… and how it had destroyed him. There was more anger, too, at that. And fear. The halls of her home, the particular beauty of her world… they were all reminders, and when she couldn’t take it anymore, she left. She packed up the ship she had been given for her eighteenth birthday, and she left it all behind, without a clue where to go except the one world that had increasingly been within her interests…
...Zeltros. Yes, Zeltros. Land of pheromones, libations, substances, and fuuuuuuun. And Marselia was in it, subjecting herself to all those things in a packed nightclub whose name she had either not bothered to note, or had simply forgotten, as she writhed sensuously between bodies, both Zeltron and otherwise.
@[member="Emily Vani"]
...well, let’s not go down that road just yet. The family had pulled up, and moved on. Best not to dwell on it, no. Her mother had wasted little time in remarrying and gaining stepsiblings for her two girls. Things were looking up, life was brighter, but not for Marselia. No… she had loved her father. She had been the most enthralled by him. She had been the most confused, the most angry, the furthest in denial. But she saw, too, as the deepest of the grieving passed, just what her father had become… and how it had destroyed him. There was more anger, too, at that. And fear. The halls of her home, the particular beauty of her world… they were all reminders, and when she couldn’t take it anymore, she left. She packed up the ship she had been given for her eighteenth birthday, and she left it all behind, without a clue where to go except the one world that had increasingly been within her interests…
...Zeltros. Yes, Zeltros. Land of pheromones, libations, substances, and fuuuuuuun. And Marselia was in it, subjecting herself to all those things in a packed nightclub whose name she had either not bothered to note, or had simply forgotten, as she writhed sensuously between bodies, both Zeltron and otherwise.
@[member="Emily Vani"]