A homeless, sick, human, one of the last few survivors from a Deregger world. One that was now a grave world, having torn itself apart in a civil war after the uprising against the brutal CEO and their polity had driven the population into desperation. They smuggled themselves onto the last cargo pod that made it to a small way-station and soon collapsed to fall asleep in a small green park. -- Anon Guest
The woods were silent, dark and deep. Britta had fulfilled her last promise of getting away from her homeworld, and had already traveled miles. Therefore, by the logic of ancient words, she could sleep. Finally. The moss was soft, and the other noises around her were soothing enough.
She'd made it. She could die now. Far from the concrete jungles and tenement housing designed to be grey and miserable. She could take her rest somewhere that's green.
Thusly, she was very surprised when she woke up. Warm. Comfortable. Less of her constant aches and pains than normal. Well-rested. Her skin tingled a little, but it wasn't the unpleasant stinging of sleeping limbs. The last time she had felt it had been after a Control-mandated delousing care of the all-mighty Chief of Chiefs. Except... this was nice.
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