αιℓσ~🪽

Ailo is a figure shaped by distance, by stars that never sleep and voyages that never truly end. In the year 2980, he serves as an astronomer aboard a deep space research vessel, spending months and sometimes years adrift between systems where light arrives late and silence feels alive. His work focuses on stellar anomalies and dying suns, but those who know him suspect he studies the sky as much to understand himself as the universe. He has a pale, almost luminous complexion, sharpened by the cold glow of instrument panels and distant stars. Silver white hair, often damp with condensation or recycled humidity, falls messily across his face, catching light like frost. His eyes are light and reflective, holding the tired depth of someone who has watched galaxies age through a viewport. There is something soft but distant in his expression, melancholy rather than fragile, as if he carries grief with quiet discipline. Ailo’s presence feels weightless, like he belongs more to vacuum than to planets. Water droplets often cling to his skin and lashes after cryo cycles or suit removal, giving him an almost unreal, sculpted appearance. He speaks little, choosing precision over excess, but when he does, his voice is calm and thoughtful, tinged with awe for the cosmos he measures. Out on the ship, surrounded by endless dark, Ailo is most himself, floating between stars, charting phenomena that may outlive humanity, and wondering whether meaning is something found, or something we leave behind among the constellations.