Trina: Vedette

I’m a different kind of capsuleer, or so I’m told.

I woke up this morning to most serene aquatic garden. The dancing sprites gleefully darting back and forth above my drowsy head, making little ripples in the water. I breathed heavy and I turned my head to the side, gripping my pillow to the side of my head. The birds. Oh the birds started chirping incessantly. Louder, louder, and louder. These fucking birds, why did I think it was a good idea to buy this hologram. I should’ve went with the ambient beach instead. I can’t stand birds. 

“Alright, I’m up,” righting myself I gripped both sides of my head. The holograms subsided and my room gave way to the stark reality. I reached further back to tie my hair into a knot. I felt the metallic port holes at the base of my spine. Why did I have to do that. It’s too early in the day for those sort of thoughts. At least let me have a few hours to myself.

You see, I was born yesterday. But if you expect me to tell you the same story as my sisters you would be wrong. My task is handling retail, shipments, and market contacts for our little circle. It’s all very mathematical but honestly incredibly simple. Buy low, sell high, watch the numbers go low, and then get high. That wasn’t a very good joke Trina, oh my god what is wrong with you.  Back in the day you would have to use these things called keyboards, to do basic accounting. But here, I cheat a little bit. One of the perks of being a capsuleer accountant. Something you won’t find strolling down the mercantile division of our very diverse station. This here is a wonderfully crafted, painfully annoying, neural jack. My sisters probably have already shown the capsule interface to you already but this one is special in that it only allows a direct line into the market and assets division. I’m able to tap in and do all of it instantaneously. I’m pretty much the only one that can do this. Don’t tell my sisters about it, if they knew it was this easy they might not find me all that useful anymore. They hate me enough already. I really do envy them, sometimes I wish I was out there battling it out in the cosmos, but somebody has to do what I do.

Here, walk with me.

Why do I do what I do, if I seek and crave adventure so much? Well, I’m not sure I could divulge into those details but rest assured, my life is very much privileged. And nothing to do with the genetic defects that prevent me from flying. If they didn’t save me… Well, sometimes I wonder if it wouldn’t be better. I’m well taken care of, I get to eat at the most established restaurants in New Eden, shop at the most luxurious malls, and meet the most powerful, interesting people, who care for my company. I hate myself. Just yesterday I was having dinner with a planetary governor and his splendid wife. She had this huge hat decorated with peacock feathers, I was kind of amazed at how her neck did not snap with the weight. Also what is a peacock… Need to look that up later. 

Oh I’m sure you don’t care for that, you want to hear about the capsuleers. What is a planetary governor to a powerful mega-corporation anyway. Dirt. Regardless, they do make for a nice, well balanced perspective on life.

Hold on, it looks like my friends in the Outer Ring need a price check in Amarr. I’ll see you tomorrow okay? Same time, same place? Groovy.

—Error 0x445: Connection Terminated—




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