Sky Starr is the president of the Games & Recreation Club, which is probably the least strange thing about her—and that includes the time she beat fourteen people at poker without ever looking at her cards. She’s the sort of person most people on campus seem to remember even if they’ve never ever actually met. Sky speaks in crisp, expensive syllables, only to suddenly switch to a casually modern tone.

Nobody can agree on where she came from or what her deal is. Official records say “London,” but rumors suggest otherwise. Her abilities stretch the definition of what an Electi should be—flight, fire resistance, presence like a small star collapsing in on itself—and yet, every interview and test insists she’s perfectly within spec.

Sky tries, with varying levels of success, to appear normal. Or at least, her version of normal, which involves high fashion, card games, and making everyone within a five-meter radius feel like they’ve just entered the orbit of something far too powerful to be standing in a cafeteria line. Something that burns a little when you get too close.

People like Sky. Or they don’t. Or they think they do until she turns and looks at them a little too long. Most opinions come down to “vibes,” and even those are unsettled.

Sky is able to conjure and manipulate abnormal violet flames that require no oxygen or fuel. That, alongside the horns adorning her head earned Sky the nickname of “Dragoness”, which she takes in pride despite only being an African Horned Snake Therian. Sky’s near mastery over her powers allows her to “conjure” extra limbs made of flames, most commonly a pair of wings that are miracously capable of flight, according to witness reports.