Name: Lieutenant Delilah Rosenhain (you can call her Roz)
Age: 30
Gender: Female
Sexual orientation: Pansexual
Play-by: Kat Dennings

Amherst Crew Info

Background: Civilian
Rank: Lieutenant
Specialization: Pilot
Years of service: 12


Even after centuries of space travel, human fighter pilots are expected to fall in a certain fairly-limited height range. At 5'3", Roz barely makes the minimum requirement. Accordingly, when relaxing with other pilots, her ego adds at *least* another two feet or so — taking her well outside the maximum height restriction. Her ego, of course, doesn't have to worry about banging its head against the canopy.

What her stature lacks in height, it makes up in breadth — not to say she's stocky, as bulldog comparisons are usually saved for *after* someone actually knows her, but she's definitely well-stocked in the hourglass department, albeit a somewhat demented S-shaped hourglass that paid more attention to forward-and-reverse than it did to side-to-side. Naturally enough, given her occupation, Roz does the best she can to minimize this particular physical characteristic — if only because she'd rather be taken seriously for her skills, and not objectified.

Her dark-brown hair curls into ringlets at the slightest provocation, and certainly with no help from her; whenever she's planning to fly, it's braided back tightly in rows against her skull, the better to fit her flight helmet. Her heart-shaped face, with a delicately-arching brow, high cheekbones, and a wide bow of a mouth, is all part and parcel of a classical beauty — either set off, or flawed, by her distinctively Jewish nose, depending on the beholder's tastes.


Those bulldog comparisons that have nothing to do with her physical shape? This would be where those come in. She's stubborn and determined, but also quite sweet and cuddly in the right circumstances.

There was a lot more to this that got et.


​It's easy to forget the older child, isn't it, when your younger child is an off-the-charts brilliant scientific genius?

That's what happened to this girl.

Nobody knows what her parents were thinking when she named her, least of all Delilah Rosenhain … who was called 'Del' as a young child and became 'Roz' as soon as she started secondary school. That just made her fit in with the military all the better, being someone who went almost exclusively by her surname. But unlike most of those she trained with, she hadn't really intended to end up there. That was the thing about her family, about her perfect little brother — there was absolutely nothing the older Rosenhain sibling could do to get her parents' attention once her brother was old enough to be doing multiplication tables (this was when he was about four, and she was seven).

It didn't change as they grew up. Abe was perfect, Del was just *average*.

She didn't exactly yearn for perfection, but she did yearn to matter, and that's how she ended up in Fleet training, in *officer* training, because the one thing she could find that she might have been able to do better than her little brother was flying. It had been a life-long fascination, and she'd had good enough scores to get in and try. As it turned out, it also truly was her strength: she took naturally to flight skills, even if flight math wasn't her absolutely strongest point (she was a lot better at math than her brother, still!). Roz had air skills in spades, and even her reckless moves were ones that always worked out. In a sky battle she was considered the best in her class, one of the best in her company.

And at something she was finally better than Abe.

*He* had a great amount of respect for it, even if their parents weren't overly concerned with what she was doing, not at some fancy university learning fancy science things. She'd stopped caring. She was good enough to be a civilian-bred officer from a middle class family, someone who clawed her way to the top and stayed there because above all else she was a good pilot.

A good pilot exposed to a *lot* of different things. She'd been a splendid fighter ace until about six months before the tour of duty that landed her on Pern. That was a reassignment born of being in trouble for dogfighting; she won every single one of those dog fights, and they were important learning experiences. That didn't so much matter to the upper command.

The Amherst mission was her first scouting trip, but her second mission with Blake Sander — but her first under his command. They'd actually been in classes together at one point, but he was precocious in a way she wasn't and had three years on her. It was really no surprise he was a captain while she was still a lieutenant (especially considering he had legacy going for him!) but what was a little bit of a surprise to her was that he'd specifically *asked* for her.

Especially when, a bare week out of dock, he'd started stopping by for little "chats" that seemed to consist, mainly, of him attempting to persuade her that her current position was far too dangerous for a woman, no matter how skilled she was. Instead, he tried to suggest, what if she transferred to being a shuttle pilot for the diplomatic corps? Or, perhaps, she could be Team Pilot #3 in navigation, responsible for some obscurely-calculated portion of the entire ship's trajectory, and not a simple, single craft that was all her own. She would retort only that she was probably the best shuttle pilot he would ever manage to score under his command. (No one has yet figured out if this is accurate.)

At least she hadn't been flying the ship when it crashed, and she wasn't even banged up *that* bad (it was just a small concussion) — there was no room for I told you so's there.