1. POOR HEALTH PRACTICES Jasper really hasn't gotten the hang of sleeping yet. It's not like she's never slept at all – once or twice, on a voyage after an exhausting battle, when there was nothing else to do – but her opinion of it as a recreational activity is low. Having passed out once, shortly after her arrival, she doesn't want to do it again unless she absolutely has to; while the idea of rest and oblivion seems tempting in a way it hasn't since she first left Earth, it is, Jasper has decided, not worth the dreams.
Consequently, for the first few days she's here, she can be found prowling the barracks at all hours with the restlessness of a caged lion. Tiredness has yet to catch up with her, and instead she's just antsy and on edge. Her yellow eyes gleam in the dark like a cat's. It's kind of unnerving.
2. POOR HEALTH CONSEQUENCES Before long the combination of this and her similarly lax approach to eating catches up with her, though. Around February 3rd she's really getting the worst of it, and has to stop, one hand propped against the wall of one of the barracks' corridors. She's shaking, drenched in cold sweat, squinting blearily ahead of her. She grabs the shoulder of whatever unfortunate passerby comes too close and rasps, "I think my meat is dying."
3. P A R T Y Fortunately, by the time the party rolls around, Jasper's been cleaned up some. She probably ended up sleeping for 24 hours solid (snoring horribly – sorry everyone, she doesn't have a nose), and has at this point grudgingly accepted that food is required to maintain her body's strength. Plus, the ghem ladies have decked her out in some Fashion – on top of being rested and fed for the first time in like a week, she even smells nice. Too bad she's literally incapable of appreciating it!
She does appreciate the clothes, though, and the makeup. She normally slightly alters her own appearance when she wants to seem imposing, but she's lost the ability to do that with the rest of everything – it seems humans have their own ways of changing how they look, though, and she doesn't find it objectionable in the slightest. Whenever she catches sight of her own reflection she stands up a little straighter, enjoying the swish of the fabric and the way her impressive height and broad shoulders are accentuated by the ghem ladies' choice of robes. Not practical for fighting, of course, but sometimes making an impression is more important.
Unfortunately by now she's had a few drinks, and while Jasper's very big and very sturdy, she's also never consumed an alcohol in her entire five thousand year existence, and the impression she is making may not be the one she set out to, here? She's not leaving big ol quartz footprints on doors or anything just yet, but she is a sight more chatty than normal, and if you stand too close to her while talking to her she is probably going to put her hand around your shoulder or something.
"I've been a part of this kind of operation before, of course; back on Earth. 'S what I was made for. Between you and me though," she says, although she is not being quiet, "I don't know why they don't just blast these rebels from space. It's just humans, right? Squashy. Easy to kill 'em. Just obliterate the lot of 'em and the planet's theirs, problem solved."
She's like eight feet tall and her hand is very big. I hope you're enjoying the conversation.
CETAGANDA: Jasper (SU)
Jasper really hasn't gotten the hang of sleeping yet. It's not like she's never slept at all – once or twice, on a voyage after an exhausting battle, when there was nothing else to do – but her opinion of it as a recreational activity is low. Having passed out once, shortly after her arrival, she doesn't want to do it again unless she absolutely has to; while the idea of rest and oblivion seems tempting in a way it hasn't since she first left Earth, it is, Jasper has decided, not worth the dreams.
Consequently, for the first few days she's here, she can be found prowling the barracks at all hours with the restlessness of a caged lion. Tiredness has yet to catch up with her, and instead she's just antsy and on edge. Her yellow eyes gleam in the dark like a cat's. It's kind of unnerving.
2. POOR HEALTH CONSEQUENCES
Before long the combination of this and her similarly lax approach to eating catches up with her, though. Around February 3rd she's really getting the worst of it, and has to stop, one hand propped against the wall of one of the barracks' corridors. She's shaking, drenched in cold sweat, squinting blearily ahead of her. She grabs the shoulder of whatever unfortunate passerby comes too close and rasps, "I think my meat is dying."
3. P A R T Y
Fortunately, by the time the party rolls around, Jasper's been cleaned up some. She probably ended up sleeping for 24 hours solid (snoring horribly – sorry everyone, she doesn't have a nose), and has at this point grudgingly accepted that food is required to maintain her body's strength. Plus, the ghem ladies have decked her out in some Fashion – on top of being rested and fed for the first time in like a week, she even smells nice. Too bad she's literally incapable of appreciating it!
She does appreciate the clothes, though, and the makeup. She normally slightly alters her own appearance when she wants to seem imposing, but she's lost the ability to do that with the rest of everything – it seems humans have their own ways of changing how they look, though, and she doesn't find it objectionable in the slightest. Whenever she catches sight of her own reflection she stands up a little straighter, enjoying the swish of the fabric and the way her impressive height and broad shoulders are accentuated by the ghem ladies' choice of robes. Not practical for fighting, of course, but sometimes making an impression is more important.
Unfortunately by now she's had a few drinks, and while Jasper's very big and very sturdy, she's also never consumed an alcohol in her entire five thousand year existence, and the impression she is making may not be the one she set out to, here? She's not leaving big ol quartz footprints on doors or anything just yet, but she is a sight more chatty than normal, and if you stand too close to her while talking to her she is probably going to put her hand around your shoulder or something.
"I've been a part of this kind of operation before, of course; back on Earth. 'S what I was made for. Between you and me though," she says, although she is not being quiet, "I don't know why they don't just blast these rebels from space. It's just humans, right? Squashy. Easy to kill 'em. Just obliterate the lot of 'em and the planet's theirs, problem solved."
She's like eight feet tall and her hand is very big. I hope you're enjoying the conversation.