We're all in this virtual space together.
Alasco

The Astraia was in astate of uproar. Citizens who knew nothing of anything but their simplecomplacent lives cried out in protest, demanding justice for their tyrannicalEmpress. Myos watched the news day by day in his uncomfortable holding cell ashe awaited his trial date. Anything that he had ever owned save for the clotheson his back had been destroyed, completely erased from existence. Anyfingerprint he had left wiped clean and disappeared, even any technologicalfootprint was gone, leaving his gaming friends to wonder were his user handlehad gone. People spat on his image, called him a traitor. Until the trial andall but those closest to the Empress had been forced to forget his visage, hewould live in infamy. It disgusted Myos, how they mourned and rallied the womanwho strove to murder their free will right under their noses.

The whole ship was inmourning, the normal bright pinks and vibrant lights replaced with cloaks ofblack and dark lacing around every surface. No flowers grew in the courtyardsand parks, and the skies above were continuously cloudy. They were without aleader, and even though they had never seen or really knew the woman who usedto wear the crown, they felt lost without a presence of governing. Myos knewthey would replace a replacement for the tyrant soon, probably someone who hadliterally been created for the job. Myos’s scowl darkened, tracing the starpattern on his headphones that he fought to keep. Though they no longer worked,the presence of the item was still comforting to him.

He sighed and lay on thesimple metal cot that had been provided for him and closed his eyes and sighed.Myos needed his sleep for his trial tomorrow.

Myos lay one thin armover his angular face, covering his sensitive eyes from the newly introducedbright light. The cells were on automatic timers that flicked the fluorescentlights on and off from time to time, to confuse and disorient the criminal stayingthere. Despite that he could never be positive of the time or many days hadreally past, he knew it must have been around a week or two. He not beenallowed to leave the cell to shower, so he had to make do with bathing himselfwith water from the sink that was provided for him. His usually lustrous hairwas limp and matted, and he was unable to get all of the blood out from theinitial blow without the aid of shampoo or any other type of soap really.

Myos hadn’t moved indays, just waiting for the guards to come by and announce it was time for histrial. All he could do was watch the ever present news on the television systemthat was built into the cell’s wall. His trial had been postponed because itwas announced the heir to the Alioth Empire had been found - apparently a youngdaughter would be taking the place of hidden tyrant. Myos sneered at thethought, wondering if they crafted the poor girl out of the process that hadbeen attempting to make Amaya. Remembering his friends brought him nothing butguilt and shame. He had killed all of them - roped them into the idea that theycould start a rebellion together and now the four of them were dead and Myoshad nothing to show for it but a mug shot and a tracker embedded in his arm. Hewas no hero, and he shook his head at the delirious thought that he ever couldbe.

The princess in trainingwould be present at his trial, her first public appearance, and Myos couldn’twait to see the poor brainwashed idiot.

Myos stood in the middleof a circular room, awaiting the time when the new Empress would arrive. Theroom was perfectly round, and fairly small, just enough room for him and hisguards along with the up and coming royal woman. The walls had black drapingover them, the ship still in loss after the death of their previous ruler. Thetiled floor below him was bedazzled with the crest of the Empire, one blackwing extending from the ever pervading heart.

Myos shifteduncomfortably with a guard on either side of him. The ginger boy had beendressed up in the best finery to meet the new Empress, and the starchy feel ofthe clothing got on his nerves. He was used to cottony fabrics and spandex,things that would stretch and allow him to move as quickly and easily aspossible in the gaming campaigns he used to take part in. Those days were longgone he supposed as he fiddled with the cuffs of his jacket, glad that at leasthe didn’t have to wear the cuffs. He had long since fell into the depressionand defeat of hopelessness, and the guards knew it. He wouldn’t be trying toescape any time soon. He had lost every one of his friends, so he had nothingleft to fight for. Myos had been waiting for almost an hour, and he was gettingimpatient. The fiery haired man brushed one stubborn lock out of his face,trying to make it fall in line with the rest of his perfectly manicuredtresses. He was glad to have his hair no longer matted, but hated the fact ithad to be styled so specifically. The pristine curve of his bangs reminded himof Zeke, doing nothing but leaving a pang in his heart. He twisted the ringaround his thumb and waited.

Suddenly the door infront of him opened, and Myos jerked his head to look, body instinctuallytensing to be ready for any reaction. His current clothes made the action feelforeign to him, but it was a habit carried out none the less. The figure thatstepped in, however, was not the slight female figure he had been expecting,but a rather brash looking man. He was dressed almost identically to theothers, but his pin was a golden one instead of the ones the usual attendantswore. A high ranking official it would seem.

“I regret to inform you,but Our Lady the Empress of Alioth could not make it here today, but I have hersentence here for all to hear,” the official spoke in a loud, clear voice -most likely addressing the cameras built in the walls at every angle more sothan Myos. His trial was being televised so the citizens could get theirvengeance against him and become placated - all the better to brainwash youwith, my dear.

Myos waited to hear hispunishment, along with the millions of others aboard the Astraia.

The official cleared histhroat, and brought out a small transparent screen, obviously intending to readthe Empress’s exact decree. “By Her Majesty’s order, the criminal who has beenaccused of treason, crimes against the crown, rebelliousness, and murder in thefirst degree...shall be sentenced to never ending exile in space.”

A woman dressed in richfinery and furs strode across the golden room, headed towards an ornatelycarved alter where a man dressed in the same rich finery lay. She was a lithe,waif like girl, of average height though most of her length was in her slenderlegs, covered mostly with boots of which the heels clicked over the surface asshe walked. An elegantly fashion silver wire tiara sat atop her head, to crownher for all to see as the Empress. Her long, thick lashes - bottomsignificantly longer than the top - brushed her cheeks as her plump pink lipspouted.

She finally reached thesacrificial looking table, taking in the man she saw there. He was of a wellmuscled build, though it was not shown due to the billowing and flowing fabricsthat draped over him. That would be changed soon enough though. His skin wasflawless, save for a blemish in the shape of a large star that was positionedover the strong man’s heart. She twirled a lock of her alabaster bob around aslender finger, brushing Zeke’s own inky bangs out of his peaceful looking face.It was almost as if the man was asleep. The girl leaned down, and whispered inthe man’s ear as if it were a secret shared between the two though there was noone else in the room but the two. “Où est mon maître le prince rebelle?”

The ravenette opened hisvibrant emerald eyes, now laced with thin lines delicate as the patterns on amoth's wing. The glowed and pulsed with an electric current, like that of thebasket woven circuits on a motherboard. The woman’s face didn’t change as theother sat up on the table, immediately taking the new ruler’s hand gently inhis own like a knight of old - with the exception that his movements wereslightly unnatural, jerky, as though the action was not his own.

“How may I serve you,Empress Razzy?”