Backwater Blues

[Hemlocke]

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Ames Research Station
Bar
4/2/828

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It had been a long week's travel from the Freeport 6 through the utterly xenophobic Kusari down to Ames. Onyx being the utterly unhealthy individual she was, rarely slept, due to her inability to feel secure in any situation, looking over her back constantly even in the safety of her own ship, a habit she picked up after her escape from Liberty during the nomad war all those years ago. Her wild ashen hair was unkept, self-trimmed and uneven, her ghostly complexion was what drew most of the unwanted gazes, even despite the fact she heaved around a railgun. It was a tell she had a lack of self respect or concern for her own well being carrying such a weapon, that could gravely injure her, but it also told she didn't want her target getting off the floor after the first shot. Her combat armor was simple, metallic, partially rusted and beaten, wearing a lower face mask that matched her armor making her look much like an outcast on first glance. She was an open book, stowed away in the corner of the bar, back to the wall to give her clear eyeshot at anyone in the room with her, and only removed her mask to sip the whiskey she was so fond of, her hair completely covering the right side of her face as her dead left eye gazed over the room out of sheer paranoia, even despite her relaxed posture.

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