Cordelia Blue doesn't want anyone to know her name is Cordelia. In fact, she's beaten people up over it. It's Blue, just Blue, thank you very much.
She's from a station, didn't see real trees until she was a teenager. She grew up on booze and black eyes, has been handling guns since her hands were too small to pull the trigger. She's already gone through a liver or two.
She has a loud opinion on everything in the word except what matters. Garage doors? Strong opinion on which is the best chain or belt garage door opener in the galaxy. West Newson? First guy who ever beat her at table-ski, and her current obstinate, wild, irresponsible and insanely loyal Captain? Who's saved her life dozens of times and has liked her exactly zero of the time? The first man (boy) to turn down her advances? That West? No comment.
She butts heads with anyone who's got skull. Hers is thick enough to smash through glass and keep going.
She learned sign language when she was small, too. Little-known fact. Her brother lost his hearing in a transport-bay door explosion, and they learned sign-language in a month. She hasn't used it since he was killed three years ago.
She's not afraid of anything. Literally not afraid. Transport garage door closing? She'll dash in right under it, sensors or no. Fistfight? No problem. Death? She laughs.
It's not one of those things where she has a deep dark secret, the one thing that she's truly afraid of. Being forgotten. Losing the ship. Losing her hearing.
No, she's literally not afraid. Hasn't been since she was small. Nothing jacks up her heart rate. Nothing spikes up her adrenaline (though the baseline levels run pretty high in general). Nothing makes her sweat.
She scares the crap out of everyone else, though.
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