Esfir Shostakovna, Arthur C. Clarke gone AU via M'ways, your average pan-dimensional bar
So, it's one of those days. You know the days. The days where the ship's hyperdrive is busted and you kind of maybe have a price on your head and you can't find a drink to save yourself and oh, yeah.
You had to shoot the ex-boyfriend.
(only in the shoulder. He'll get better. And it was his own damn fault for stealing your ship in the first place)
So, when Esfir walks into the Bar, her expression is just one of amused relief.
"Thank you."
She's different, from the Russian astronaut of old - more outwardly confident, outwardly more flashy with those tight pants, shiny boots and the crimson braiding on her jacket. Brown hair cropped short, short enough to curl, and there is a black tattoo on her cheek.
Sadly, not even the magic that is keeping her together enough to act alive could change her original height.
But these things happen.
You had to shoot the ex-boyfriend.
(only in the shoulder. He'll get better. And it was his own damn fault for stealing your ship in the first place)
So, when Esfir walks into the Bar, her expression is just one of amused relief.
"Thank you."
She's different, from the Russian astronaut of old - more outwardly confident, outwardly more flashy with those tight pants, shiny boots and the crimson braiding on her jacket. Brown hair cropped short, short enough to curl, and there is a black tattoo on her cheek.
Sadly, not even the magic that is keeping her together enough to act alive could change her original height.
But these things happen.