Rough and Tumble Artist



  • They were a rough and ready, "come at me" space marine. They had seen quite a few battles and had the scars to prove it, and won them all. They'd also worked with dozens of races from the roughest deathworlders to the gentlest havenworlders, the perfect person you wanted aboard ship when exploring out on the edge. Yet, each meal break, if they had few other duties, they were unusually quiet. When they moved into their quarters, other than the tools of the trade, their weapons, their livesuits, and their clothing, there was very little outside the bare minimum they really had. Save for one case. One thing that they held close. They rarely ordered anything either other than the minimum requirements they needed for food despite best efforts to encourage them to treat themselves better. It was only when there was an accident, the special case they carried falling to the ground breaking open revealing colored pencils and beautiful drawings of many worlds and many races, did the inner soul of this otherwise gruff individual show. And it was breathtaking.



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