My name is Fyre. No... my eyes are up here, pal. I don't trust someone who can't tell me what color my eyes are in a face to face meeting. Dad used to call me his little "spitfire", I guess I earned that. I've been fighting for as long as I can remember. I don't recall a time without a cut or bruise somewhere healing upon my body, but I'm not complaining. Some do, some choose to sit on the sidelines and watch. Well, life isn't a spectator sport, folks. I'm sorry if my abrasiveness offends, but in this time, it seems that there is really no way to be any other way for this girl. Kindness is mistaken for weakness and compassion, stupidity. Still, I have to laugh at those who insist upon underestimating me. It allows me an advantage, rarely seen in combat. Don't get me wrong, it isn't that I don't appreciate a true gentleman, it is just that they seem to make themselves scarce, where I'm concerned.
I don't want to talk about my childhood because there's nothing really to tell. I was born, I grew up. I'm here. Does that work for you? I do have an older sister, Kyte and a younger brother, Bru, both whom I love very much. They are a part of me, and really the only living proof that I exist. Kyte is the academic or thinker of the family and Bru is sort of the glue that keeps us all together. Kyte and Bru aren't by any stretch of the imagination the aggressive type. That's my department. I tend to hit first. Especially where they are concerned. No one messes with my family. Dad might have instilled Kyte with the leadership of this family, but I'm the muscle. Make no mistake, I'd gladly give up my life in their defense... but I'll take plenty of hostiles with me in the process. I'll leave my mark.
I did fly for the Liberty Navy for a short while, until I grew tired of having one hand tied behind my back in battle. We were told to agressively go after our targets, then in the next breath, told to ignore other enemies or allies of our enemies. I'm not the thinker my sister, Kyte is... but I do know when someone talks out of both sides of their mouths, they aren't to be trusted. My Commander was not a bad man... but I just couldn't follow the orders passed down from Command, so I tendered my resignation and set out to make a difference. It's a big galaxy and I knew that I'd find a purpose that didn't restrict me like a cheap corset. I prefer leather to lace, cigars to ciggies, I take my whiskey straight up. If you can't hang with that, I advise you to move aside or at least don't get in my face. I get itchy around the pseudo tough and there are far better things to do with one's tongue than waggle it to hear oneself speak. Too tomboyish for your tastes, TOUGH. I won't appologize for who I am or what I need in this life. No one should have to.
As of late, I've found my niche within the Zoner Community. They are, in many ways, like minded although I hear tell they have difficulty agreeing on anything, except that Freedom isn't Free. It comes at a cost. With all the corruption and just plain scum out there, it has been nice to fly with folks of genuine honor. I am especially indebted to a certain fella, who's accent drives me wild. I won't mention any names, but I'd rub wings with him any time.
Insofar as my politics are concerned, I really have none. I fight for what I believe in and what I think is right. It is right that people should be able to have control over their own destinies and it is right that each should follow their own path, so long as that path doesn't encroach upon the freedoms of others. I believe in this with every fibre of my being. I also believe in ice cream, hot apple pie and long slow kisses that last into the wee hours of the morning. I believe in good booze and I also believe I'll have another drink!