What did it feel like to be the Crystal Knight?

Bella sits in silence and watches the stars. The motes of pure white that pierce the blue, in all their vast complexity and their woven tapestry of stories written in the Skies to extol the virtues of civilization. True Civilization. Ancient constellations were vague shapes and inferences, but the Endless Azure Skies painted with a far defter brush. Here the stars formed visible lines to depict their greatest moments and the highest kings in their history, things that represented true and absolute beauty in such specific clarity that it was not possible to miss or misinterpret them. Even they had a mind to, they could even backfill the galaxy with nebulae to color in these paintings and render their history in living color. 

And it's awe inspiring. It is artifice that the Empire of her childhood never dreamed of. What else could you call it besides total mastery of the universe? The vast tapestry of creation was nothing but a suggestion that had long been ignored. The only thing is, as soon as you stepped away from paradise the whole thing was nothing but gibberish. The stars didn't look like this from Beri. Or to the Portuguese, or to any other gods-damned people in the universe outside of Capitas. All of this work and it only made any sense if you lived here. Did anybody who'd come here on the [i]Plousios[/i] even know the sky was meant to tell a story in the first place?

So the trash heap didn't know what it had been thrown away to accomplish. Sure, what the fuck ever. But the Crystal Knight was Azura. She'd even distinguished herself to the point of receiving an exalted title from those on high. Surely [i]she'd[/i] known better. Surely she believed in the greatness of her empire and all of this shimmering blue horseshit. She knew, and then they shot her off to the bumblefuck quadrant to play with rocks on a scale that was completely useless to the grand work happening in the place where they actually exported all that entropy. 

Then what did it feel like to be her? An Administrator Species member in good standing with her empire who knew that the sky she saw when she looked out from her palace ship was broken and wrong. Real beauty was somewhere, invisible to her eye. She must have known enough to miss it. Had they jettisoned her because she'd been a cruel lunatic tyrant, or did she just crack from the strain of being so far away from everything that was 'real?' 

There had been a quiet desperation to her reign that Bella had missed before she killed her. All those projects, all of her tinkering... she'd been nothing more than another striving ghost, like all those people on Salib. Only whole enough to know that she'd been cracked. Who could possibly believe in all of this and not be driven insane by that kind of life?

"Oh fuck off." she says through a luxurious stretch.

Her ear twitches first. Her neck turns, and her eyes follow. Bella beholds a nervous sheep fighting valiantly to stand in place. She listens to the music of his determination, and sighs.

"I didn't do shit, Dolce. Like I could have killed that girl even if I wanted to. Do you even understand how many improvements they made on her compared to me? Trust me: not getting killed by her was impossible enough already. No, you don't owe me a fucking thing."

She laughs, though she can feel her ribs straining with every breath. She turns onto her side, away from the Skies and their condescending god and back onto the floor of her... of [i]the[/i] ship. Her tail flicks above her head and her spine curls into a crescent as she stretches across the length of her couch.

Slowly, she rises. She walks over to Dolce and looms overtop of him in silence before she reaches down and flicks the bell hanging from his dapper blue uniform. She flashes him a smirk.

"This place pisses me off so much I can't stand it. Every new detail I notice makes me want to kill someone. But I think," she taps the bell again, "Revenge is gonna be a little harder to manage this time. It's not even the size of the place that's the problem, right? They're so fucking... vapid. All of this. Everything. All of us. For a stupid fucking color. To draw scribbles with the universe because they can't think of anything else to do with all their power. We could kill everyone in charge and I bet you the Skies wouldn't notice after a day or two."

She flexes her talons, watching the tips gleam in the light with an intensity to her face that could crack buildings. But when she moves again, it's only to toss her hair in a messy wave over her shoulder and down her back. She ought to return to her rest, but she holds her back straight and proud for the moment. Diminished in form though it is, the Regalia shines like a tiny star atop her head.

"But."

Her teeth are daggers in her grin.

"There is one thing we can do. This is where we're leaving the Summerkind. And the people of Beri, and every Pix or other person who isn't sure about our journey. Help me organize it, Dolce. Let's give them paradise, if they'll take it. I'm sure it'll be a pain in the ass to negotiate, but if I can make this place do one actually good thing before I turn my back on it I'll count it as a win.

"It's... all I can manage. Artemis has plans for me too, you know. I have to get ready her next gauntlet, if I have to hear her call me flabby again I'm going to kill myself out of spite."