Nyxie
【夢狐】
A lone ship swathed through the rift to the tune of outer rim artist Madien Barley. The ship slowly tugged away at the gasses of the nebula as it traversed, collecting some of the material in a fuel scoop and diverting it to tanks in the cargo bay for later use. The cosmic dust began to seep in trace amounts through the shuttle's air filtration system, thus into the breathing air. Yote was sitting back in the pilot's seat stoking his Marcan ablaze. His eyes drifted hazily across the many bright-lit instruments and into the nebula itself. Slowly his mind drifted away, until he saw a large silhouette growing from the corner of his eye.
"O' Poodoo!" He jumped back in his seat. "Misa head goin'."
The image of a large, furry spider suddenly vanished without a trace, leaving nothing but the empty rear corridor behind. He lifted his hand to gaze at the blunt in his hand in speculation.
The TCS-950 finally approached the world. Yote sighed of relief; the boring part was finally over. With a few commands to his instrument panel, roll still caught between his fingers, the flight computers engaged an automated course to the planet's surface. The ship began to descend into an ashen fog, onto the planet proper. It was--expectedly--a waste. Geysers and volcanoes dotted the surface like a bad rash.
"Dem dog heart brinks nuh run di road hea," Yote mumbled to himself. "Arnex, bruva, wahgwan?" he hailed to [member="Salvor Arnex"] via communique.
"O' Poodoo!" He jumped back in his seat. "Misa head goin'."
The image of a large, furry spider suddenly vanished without a trace, leaving nothing but the empty rear corridor behind. He lifted his hand to gaze at the blunt in his hand in speculation.
The TCS-950 finally approached the world. Yote sighed of relief; the boring part was finally over. With a few commands to his instrument panel, roll still caught between his fingers, the flight computers engaged an automated course to the planet's surface. The ship began to descend into an ashen fog, onto the planet proper. It was--expectedly--a waste. Geysers and volcanoes dotted the surface like a bad rash.
"Dem dog heart brinks nuh run di road hea," Yote mumbled to himself. "Arnex, bruva, wahgwan?" he hailed to [member="Salvor Arnex"] via communique.