Power doesn’t always come wrapped in armor or hidden behind a blaster. Sometimes, it arrives in shimmering gold, chin held high, eyes locked forward. KristieBish steps into the starship like she owns every inch of air between galaxies—graceful, grounded, and already ten moves ahead.
Chains don’t bind her—they break the moment she decides they’ve served their purpose. The outfit may have come from captivity, but the confidence radiating from her makes it unmistakably hers. Sand doesn’t cling to royalty. It follows in awe. No throne? She builds one. No escape plan? She writes one mid-stride.
There’s elegance in the sway of her walk, resilience in the lift of her shoulders, and rebellion coded into every golden link. History might try to remember KristieBish as a prisoner. The galaxy knows better.
All we wanna do is make you smile!
