Zephrun’s Imperium

I cannot think of a single female character who has impacted me in a significant way. So here I am, writing a female I can get behind. Star Celeste, everyone.

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By the time Star and her guard arrived at their apparent destination, she had begun to wonder if there was something more sinister behind her summons. No one would miss her if she was executed and they had absolutely no reason not to do so. They hadn’t cared about her husband’s death, why would they care about hers? 
And she was surprised to find that she was actually excited about the prospect of being marched to her untimely death. She’d be stupid to think there was a possibility of escape, but by Fate, she’d give ‘em hell before the deed was done. Images of being forcefully injected with some death serum danced around in her head. She’d rip out the needle and give her assailant a kick, break their bones and deliver some impactful last words; something about her blood finally giving them a splash of color, perhaps? “Red actually suits you,” or, “glad I could introduce you to style.” Yeah. Yeah, that sounded good. 

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“Ah! Ms. Celeste!” The woman at the desk stood up, and it took a moment for Star to realize that she had spoken; actually spoken like a normal person instead of using that strange, mind-bending Enuller silent-speak. “Oh, it’s absolutely lovely to meet you! Have a seat; Darius will be in soon.” 
Star gave the woman at the desk a glare that she hoped would wither the decorative grey succulents. She did not sit. 
“Ah. Um… I am Emily Geiger, one of the head scientists in my department. Or, I guess the head scientist since Ryan… It- doesn’t matter. We study magic here, but I’ve never actually met a Narrator before! Although I have- Well, I guess we will get to that. You really can sit. There’s tea! If you want it. I thought you might, since the penitentiary isn’t very, ah, homey.”
That was one way to describe it. Star had already decided that she did not like this woman. Her tight, high ponytail seemed a mockery of Star’s low and loose one, the straight sides of her white labcoat jeering at Star’s extrusive curves. The Enuller’s whole demeanor screamed that Star was nothing more than another lab rat, a test subject, an interesting creature to observe. 
“I don’t want tea,” Star said, projecting as much dignity as she could while wearing very undignified handcuffs and a tank top. How would Emily be acting, she wondered, if Star was free of her restraints, both physical and magical? At the very least, she could be glad her tank top showed off her sculpted arms.