Post by sekurah on Aug 29, 2012 4:53:17 GMT -5
Name: Seku'rah
Class: Sentinel
Age: 20
Sex: Female
Height/Weight: 5'4", 110 lbs.
Species: Twi'lek
Title: None
Appearance: Characteristic of her kind, Seku'rah possesses a sleek, graceful, natural beauty. Uncharacteristic of her kind, she tries her best to understate this as much as possible. She typically wears a jacket too large for her that she picked off a smuggler who didn't need it anymore due to lack of a head (something about an angry Barabel and a shipment of dresses - she never got the full story), a simple shirt (that actually covers her midriff), pants with plenty of large pockets to carry anything useful she happens to stumble across or otherwise aquire, and a pair of fingerless gloves. She also usually wears a large black headband which, at least from the front, make her lekku a little less obvious.
She has purple skin and gold-colored eyes.
Base Stats
Strength: 6
Speed: 11
Stamina: 6
Force Stats
Control: 1
Sense: 4
Alter: 10
Combat Stats
Lightsaber: 0
Unarmed: 1
Melee: 2
Range: 7
Personal Items:
- Necklace: Simple rope looped through a metallic, curved abstract shape.
- Blaster pistol
- Basic repair tools
- Small backpack
Starship: None
Force Powers:
Telekinesis
Force Sense
Shock
Fury
Force speed
Skills:
Conditioning
Critical Strike
Marksmen
Bio:
"I'm going to be a dancer!" Seku'rah declared with complete certainty.
Her mother, Nima'rah, nodded absently. A week ago, Seku'rah wanted to be a bounty hunter. And before that, a farmer. And before that, a pilot, singer, archeologist, composer, and gardener, in that order. Just yesterday, she wanted to be a Jedi until her mother explained to her that if she sensed a disturbance in her cooking one more time, not even the Force would be able to save her. Besides, neither Seku'rah or her really knew anything about that Force stuff. Who did? Nobody understood all that mumbo jumbo.
A dancer, though... She could see that. Traditional, but not at all a bad choice. It was something reasonable that her daugher could live off of. She could even leave Rhyloth if she wanted to. Nima'rah was quite happy here herself, but she already suspected her daughter had too much spirit to stay here forever. And maybe if she took up dancing, she'd stop taking apart everything electronic in the house and putting it back together (usually in a different - and non-operational - configuration).
"That's a wonderful idea," she added encouragingly.
"Then again..." Seku'rah trailed off, all the certainty gone just as fast as it'd arrived five minutes ago. "You have to wear funny costumes," she said, wrinkling her nose. The headwear especially always looked really uncomfortable. If only someone would fix that...
"I'm going to be a hat designer!" she suddenly declared, once more full of conviction.
Nima'rah sighed.
***
Clank! Clink... clink.
There were weird sounds coming from the door, followed by muffled voices. Seku'rah looked up from the schematics she had been carefully drawing on the floor (she was going to design ships when she grew up). She tilted her head quizically.
The sound of a blaster made her jump. A strangled hiss and two hands started prying the door open. Seku'rah abandoned the drawing she had planned to finish in time to show her parents when they got back and hid under the table, staring out from between the chairs.
"Are you sure nobody's here?"
"Of course I'm sure. Besides, shouldn't you have worried about that before shooting the door?"
Two men - humans - stepped through the two foot gap of the forced door. She'd not seen that many humans before and she'd have normally been fascinated if they weren't both carrying blasters and breaking into her home. Instead, she found herself suppressing a small whimper. She closed her eyes as tight as possible, ducking further under the table. Unfortunately, it wasn't the best hiding spot in the first place - particularly if you happened to be of a race with particularly colorful skin - and it turned out closing your eyes really tight didn't actually make you invisible.
She felt strong hands gripping her arms. Seku'rah kicked feebly as she was dragged out, then froze as she found herself staring back at the two men. She was shaking.
"Yup. Definitely nobody home," one of the men said sarcastically, tapping the top of her head with the tip of his blaster.
"OK, but I was still mostly right. And hey, if we take her, too, she'd probably sell for a good amount, right?"
"I don't know..."
"Nima'rah! Hurry, someone's broken in!" The voice was her father's, coming from outside the door.
"Seku'rah?" her mother's worried voice followed.
Both Twi'lek's rushed into their home to find two men wielding blasters and holding their child while she twisted and tried to wiggle free.
It all happened so fast. Her parents rushed towards the intruders. The next thing she knew, her father was shot and her mother was screaming. She'd already been afraid, but now, it was beyond terror. And then electricity was shooting everywhere. It took her several seconds to realize it was coming from her.
She didn't really have time to figure out it out because suddenly, something exploded and then she was surrounded by smoke and flames. She felt herself being pried out of the now vice-like grip of the human. There was movement, and smoke, and heat, and then the sound of something collapsing.
She woke up outside. Several feet behind her, trapped under a support beam, her mother had been burned alive.
Seku'rah ran.
***
Seku'rah closed the panel, set her tools aside, pressed the button, then waited while the generator did absolutely nothing. She kicked it. It warbled feebly before humming to life.
After the accident, she'd believed she was somehow cursed. Maybe someone would have found her if she stayed. Maybe someone would have helped her. That would have been the smart thing to do - to just wait for help.
But she ran away. And she'd never stopped running. Years passed but even after all this time, she still wasn't exactly sure what had happened - only that somehow she'd blown up their home, right along with both the intruders and her mother and father. It wasn't her fault, she knew. Well, mostly. It wasn't like a little girl could exactly be ready to stop herself from killing people with her brain.
Even so, she'd quickly made her way off-world, away from anyone who might know her and, more importantly, anyone she might know. Since then, she'd been floating around between less populated settlements, stations, and worlds, trying to ignore the constant nagging fear that she'd somehow accidentally kill everyone around her at any random moment. It wasn't logical, she knew, but she couldn't help it.
She was scared a lot. Of all sorts of things. And of being scared. Once or twice, she'd felt that horrible feeling come back. Weird, unexplainable things would happen around her. She hated that. It made her even more afraid. But life went on and the busier she kept herself, the less she'd think about all this. That was the way she liked it.
She tried her best to keep a low profile. She'd learned long ago that being noticed was dangerous - particularly for someone like her. So she closed her eyes and tried to be invisible. She was pretty good with a blaster if it came down to it, but it was always better just to not be noticed. Trouble couldn't find you if you were invisible.
Still, she had to survive. So she barely got by with a talent she'd picked up of maintaining and repairing ships. Supplemented by a little theft when times were hard. But, inevitably, either of these activities would lead to her getting to know more people. And that was when she'd head out on the next ship.
"How's it look now?" she called to the captain.
"Power's stable now. Surprised you got it working. She can be one stubborn ship, sometimes. Well, guess you did your part. Now I can do mine. Initiating liftoff."
The ship would no doubt need several more repairs from her along the way, just to make it. It was a piece of junk. Still, that was alright with her. It'd give her lots to do. Outside, she could see the familiar structures of the colony growing smaller and smaller until what had been her home for nearly a year became nothing more than a tiny speck.
(Have experience with general RPing, but I'm not very familiar with systems like the one used here. I'm also pretty consistently terrible at writing bios, so let me know if I'm getting anything wrong or if there's anything that could be improved.)
Class: Sentinel
Age: 20
Sex: Female
Height/Weight: 5'4", 110 lbs.
Species: Twi'lek
Title: None
Appearance: Characteristic of her kind, Seku'rah possesses a sleek, graceful, natural beauty. Uncharacteristic of her kind, she tries her best to understate this as much as possible. She typically wears a jacket too large for her that she picked off a smuggler who didn't need it anymore due to lack of a head (something about an angry Barabel and a shipment of dresses - she never got the full story), a simple shirt (that actually covers her midriff), pants with plenty of large pockets to carry anything useful she happens to stumble across or otherwise aquire, and a pair of fingerless gloves. She also usually wears a large black headband which, at least from the front, make her lekku a little less obvious.
She has purple skin and gold-colored eyes.
Base Stats
Strength: 6
Speed: 11
Stamina: 6
Force Stats
Control: 1
Sense: 4
Alter: 10
Combat Stats
Lightsaber: 0
Unarmed: 1
Melee: 2
Range: 7
Personal Items:
- Necklace: Simple rope looped through a metallic, curved abstract shape.
- Blaster pistol
- Basic repair tools
- Small backpack
Starship: None
Force Powers:
Telekinesis
Force Sense
Shock
Fury
Force speed
Skills:
Conditioning
Critical Strike
Marksmen
Bio:
"I'm going to be a dancer!" Seku'rah declared with complete certainty.
Her mother, Nima'rah, nodded absently. A week ago, Seku'rah wanted to be a bounty hunter. And before that, a farmer. And before that, a pilot, singer, archeologist, composer, and gardener, in that order. Just yesterday, she wanted to be a Jedi until her mother explained to her that if she sensed a disturbance in her cooking one more time, not even the Force would be able to save her. Besides, neither Seku'rah or her really knew anything about that Force stuff. Who did? Nobody understood all that mumbo jumbo.
A dancer, though... She could see that. Traditional, but not at all a bad choice. It was something reasonable that her daugher could live off of. She could even leave Rhyloth if she wanted to. Nima'rah was quite happy here herself, but she already suspected her daughter had too much spirit to stay here forever. And maybe if she took up dancing, she'd stop taking apart everything electronic in the house and putting it back together (usually in a different - and non-operational - configuration).
"That's a wonderful idea," she added encouragingly.
"Then again..." Seku'rah trailed off, all the certainty gone just as fast as it'd arrived five minutes ago. "You have to wear funny costumes," she said, wrinkling her nose. The headwear especially always looked really uncomfortable. If only someone would fix that...
"I'm going to be a hat designer!" she suddenly declared, once more full of conviction.
Nima'rah sighed.
***
Clank! Clink... clink.
There were weird sounds coming from the door, followed by muffled voices. Seku'rah looked up from the schematics she had been carefully drawing on the floor (she was going to design ships when she grew up). She tilted her head quizically.
The sound of a blaster made her jump. A strangled hiss and two hands started prying the door open. Seku'rah abandoned the drawing she had planned to finish in time to show her parents when they got back and hid under the table, staring out from between the chairs.
"Are you sure nobody's here?"
"Of course I'm sure. Besides, shouldn't you have worried about that before shooting the door?"
Two men - humans - stepped through the two foot gap of the forced door. She'd not seen that many humans before and she'd have normally been fascinated if they weren't both carrying blasters and breaking into her home. Instead, she found herself suppressing a small whimper. She closed her eyes as tight as possible, ducking further under the table. Unfortunately, it wasn't the best hiding spot in the first place - particularly if you happened to be of a race with particularly colorful skin - and it turned out closing your eyes really tight didn't actually make you invisible.
She felt strong hands gripping her arms. Seku'rah kicked feebly as she was dragged out, then froze as she found herself staring back at the two men. She was shaking.
"Yup. Definitely nobody home," one of the men said sarcastically, tapping the top of her head with the tip of his blaster.
"OK, but I was still mostly right. And hey, if we take her, too, she'd probably sell for a good amount, right?"
"I don't know..."
"Nima'rah! Hurry, someone's broken in!" The voice was her father's, coming from outside the door.
"Seku'rah?" her mother's worried voice followed.
Both Twi'lek's rushed into their home to find two men wielding blasters and holding their child while she twisted and tried to wiggle free.
It all happened so fast. Her parents rushed towards the intruders. The next thing she knew, her father was shot and her mother was screaming. She'd already been afraid, but now, it was beyond terror. And then electricity was shooting everywhere. It took her several seconds to realize it was coming from her.
She didn't really have time to figure out it out because suddenly, something exploded and then she was surrounded by smoke and flames. She felt herself being pried out of the now vice-like grip of the human. There was movement, and smoke, and heat, and then the sound of something collapsing.
She woke up outside. Several feet behind her, trapped under a support beam, her mother had been burned alive.
Seku'rah ran.
***
Seku'rah closed the panel, set her tools aside, pressed the button, then waited while the generator did absolutely nothing. She kicked it. It warbled feebly before humming to life.
After the accident, she'd believed she was somehow cursed. Maybe someone would have found her if she stayed. Maybe someone would have helped her. That would have been the smart thing to do - to just wait for help.
But she ran away. And she'd never stopped running. Years passed but even after all this time, she still wasn't exactly sure what had happened - only that somehow she'd blown up their home, right along with both the intruders and her mother and father. It wasn't her fault, she knew. Well, mostly. It wasn't like a little girl could exactly be ready to stop herself from killing people with her brain.
Even so, she'd quickly made her way off-world, away from anyone who might know her and, more importantly, anyone she might know. Since then, she'd been floating around between less populated settlements, stations, and worlds, trying to ignore the constant nagging fear that she'd somehow accidentally kill everyone around her at any random moment. It wasn't logical, she knew, but she couldn't help it.
She was scared a lot. Of all sorts of things. And of being scared. Once or twice, she'd felt that horrible feeling come back. Weird, unexplainable things would happen around her. She hated that. It made her even more afraid. But life went on and the busier she kept herself, the less she'd think about all this. That was the way she liked it.
She tried her best to keep a low profile. She'd learned long ago that being noticed was dangerous - particularly for someone like her. So she closed her eyes and tried to be invisible. She was pretty good with a blaster if it came down to it, but it was always better just to not be noticed. Trouble couldn't find you if you were invisible.
Still, she had to survive. So she barely got by with a talent she'd picked up of maintaining and repairing ships. Supplemented by a little theft when times were hard. But, inevitably, either of these activities would lead to her getting to know more people. And that was when she'd head out on the next ship.
"How's it look now?" she called to the captain.
"Power's stable now. Surprised you got it working. She can be one stubborn ship, sometimes. Well, guess you did your part. Now I can do mine. Initiating liftoff."
The ship would no doubt need several more repairs from her along the way, just to make it. It was a piece of junk. Still, that was alright with her. It'd give her lots to do. Outside, she could see the familiar structures of the colony growing smaller and smaller until what had been her home for nearly a year became nothing more than a tiny speck.
(Have experience with general RPing, but I'm not very familiar with systems like the one used here. I'm also pretty consistently terrible at writing bios, so let me know if I'm getting anything wrong or if there's anything that could be improved.)
I don't have any complaints with it. All in all, good job. Just let me know what you plan to do about Shii-Cho.
