- Umbral Blast
- Umbral Aura
- Last Seen:
- 3394 days ago
The child in you still dreams of silk-smooth swashbucklers, frolicking faerie folk, and ancient alien ancestors.. Such daydreams, fanciful fabrications of fact and fiction inter-folded to forge a charming other-world's linear history, are a staple of your desires - but far-flung fantasy in the end. Or is it?
Such people and places simply -are- Starmada's world. There's no parcel of land or parsec of time she need foot across to find hereself elsewhere, elsewhen, elseworld. Unfortunately, this draws her from the safety of our musings to a very real existance fighting daemons, dr'jinns, and other such diabolical forces. Able to shift form and time within herself, the daily drive is a burden of responsibility - and fear.
'The Coming Storm', the fracture in Thomas Paine's young oak, the wail from Cassandra's dreams: is here/has been/will be.. for Starmada, forever juggling between saving souls in the aftermath, but also before the brew stirs, and during the worst of the torrent - all at once.
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