Harmony’s Muse

“Dearest Dame!” you cry, drawing the holo-album you discovered in the infirmary out of the pocket of your space-pyjamas. “As my ship exploded into shattering shards about me, the only thing I thought to save from the cold black oblivion of space was your debut album, Cerulean Dreams! Will you now deny the greatness of my love by saying your songs do not touch the heart even more powerfully than the constant tsunamis of Gaupax 19 crash into the space-dikes of the tiny and embattled islands? Nay! You will not!”

The diva stands transfixed, the sparkling tears from her triple-moon-midnight coloured eyes evaporating in the warmth of her joy so that for a moment she is wreathed in a halo of shimmering steam.

“I will not!” she cries, and, clutching her cyan hands to her ample chest, bursts into joyous song!

Sie konnten einen Spacesuit
oder einen Sauerstoff gespart haben.
Stattdessen sparten Sie Musik.
Welches nicht intelligent war.
Jedoch sparten Sie mein Leben
Jetzt helfe ich Ihnen.
Möglicherweise war es intelligent!

You and Caroline weep heartily at the beauty of the ocean-coloured diva’s stirring lyrics, bursting into thunderous applause as soon as she is done.

Quickly, Caroline explains your plight, and the sapphire songstress readily agrees to assist you, finding a zathwop bladearm for Caroline in her space-suitcases and pledging to join you in the forthcoming battle.

“But before that,” she murmurs, lazuline and lucullan breasts rising and falling with deep breaths, “Perhaps I may offer you something else, most pulchitrudinous princess?”

Can it be that the great diva is offering you the delights of her body? Which is blue?

1) How on Riadorf could you pass up this honour? You eagerly embrace the cerulean soprano!

2) You long to take the sky-coloured woman in your arms, yet it seems rude to exclude the Silver Marauder. Perhaps you could bed the both of them?

3) There’s no time for dalliance! The mercenaries could attack at any moment!

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