[b]Yellow:[/b]

Her eyes alight with neon, hair dressing itself in the lights of passing billboards. She seems so small against them, a shadow in black and gold against an ocean of hyper pink; like the sun embossed upon a flag. Still, it never seems like she's apart from the world around her - there's an echo of immensity to her. When the wild-haired stranger appears against the flashing sky, mortals named them Zeus for the two were not separate. When the girl smiles fondly up at the world she built that same connection seems to crackle in the mythic parts of the mind. 

"What do I make of it?" she said. "Nobody's asked me that before. Big question."

She tucks the helmet under her arm, black synthleather riding jacket slashed with gold neon bands. She runs a hand through her hair and lets her solar vision drift upwards.

"The names all came later. We knew these as Sections #0200-#0300. That doesn't mean it didn't have personality for us, though - did you know that the International Space Station is in Ares? It's Oxygenation Substation 001 now; it had all the materials we needed to create a prototype atmosphere bubble. We recycled a lot of satellites to make these districts while we were waiting for the others to start asteroid processing." She smiled like prehistory. "Oh! You see that, over there, the dark sector? Tilly district it's called now, I think. That's where we stacked all the orbital missile batteries we found. We'd crack open the odd telecoms satellite and find a nuclear warhead inside - lost a Red that way. Governments weren't in any state to own up to them, or stop us from taking them, so we just reprocessed the warheads into mining explosives and called it a bonus. Filled all the empty missile casings with spent nuclear fuel cells and left them stacked up in Section #0241 with a big cartoon detonator counting down and a red wire and a blue wire leading to the bombs."

She leaned on the railing, a slender thing of hollow metal holding back the logos of the heavens.

"I think I get what you mean about fences," she said. "I held city killers in my hands, my real hands, and I didn't have to think about the politics of it. Nobody could tell me stop, I own this. It wasn't that I needed interesting content, I wasn't searching for meaning in those old satellites. I always knew what the meaning of life was. But for a while, there wasn't anything in between me and the sky."

She turned to face you, Vesna. Hiss-click of the ringpull and the can of cheap beer opens. She offers it to you - not human, but unable to be more human.

"It was a beautiful way to be," she said.