Post by Neology on Aug 2, 2018 4:46:22 GMT -5
 Carys Corbei Full Name • Izidakh [In accordance with Firrerreon cultural superstitions, Carys never gives out her "real" name.] Alias • Carys Corbei Nickname • Iz -- but to only a very select few. Race • Firrerreo Birthplace • Circumtore, Habitat 15b-128 Age • 79 Gender • Female Sexuality • Heterosexual Faction • Fringe Concept • Rank 3. Jedi washout, turned corporate counterintelligence, turned space pirate. Languages • Basic, Firrerreo, Huttese, Droidspeak (Understood only.) Assets • Perhaps the second nicest cabin aboard the La Decadencia, a tidy collection of snow globes (small, easy to store and lockdown aboard a ship,) various personal weapons and armor including a pair of shock gauntlets and an armored voidsuit. Appearance Face Claim • Ailee Height & Weight • 5'5" 145 lbs Overall Looks • Carys stands a bit under average height for most near-human species and, like most Firrerreon, she is deceptively sturdy in build and stronger than she looks. She is quick to take advantage of this relatively non-threatening appearance when it suits her -- few sentients go on to underestimate her twice. Like all members of her species, Carys has warm gold-tinted skin, sharp canine teeth, and two-toned hair. Her eyes are such a dark brown as to be nearly black. Her hair is predominantly black with thin white stripes, typically worn loose and never longer than shoulder length. Never one for ostentatious displays, Carys prefers to dress for comfort and function over fashion. Nevertheless, she has always harbored a secret love of ruffles and lace -- owing largely to a childhood starved of options for such overt femininity. Personality Profile Carys is deeply patient -- so much so, in fact, that a casual observer might call her lazy. They would be ... More or less correct. She has always felt that the destination is less important than the journey, so why hurry to get there? Why stress, or crunch, or worry if it wont help anything? Besides, things always seem work out. Eventually. That said, on a ship those anxious habits do sometimes help. Sloppy maintenance, mismanagement of the crew's funds, failure to resupply - Carys takes surprisingly detailed notes and works as hard as anyone to make sure those things don't happen. In most other areas, she prefers the path of least resistance. When things are going her way, Carys can be quite fun to be around. And even when they're not, she's usually not bad company either -- unless she's feeling underappreciated, in which case nothing sours her mood faster. Her sense of humor is a little odd and very dry. While she can, with concentrated effort, be rather charming, Carys doesn't always choose her words as carefully as she should. Crewmen with particularly thin skin quickly find themselves assigned opposite watches, all in the interest of keeping the peace. Despite that, Carys is loyal to the ship and crew as if they were her birth clan. While she wouldn't consider herself particularly brave or selfless, she has a reputation for taking point in combat and other risky situations purely because her species is so very hard to kill. Background Father • Zefarin, 274, Docks & Locks supervisor Mother • Okali, 197, Hydroponics shift lead Siblings • A various handful, back on Circumtore. Largely unknown to Carys. Other Important Connections • Enzo Kavela, 38. Captain & long term associate. It's complicated. Veston LeChance, 38. Former employer, looks good on the pirate résumé. Overall History • Izidakh was born into a clan of Firrerreon expatriates living on Circumtore, a Huttese station of mammoth size. The clan was vast, no doubt owing to their resilience and long lifespans; Carys remembers what it was like to recognize herself in many faces. She had many near-age cousins to get into trouble with while the adults were away for their duty-shifts. This gave rise to some early natural talents -- Izidakh generally got what she wanted, and generally avoided taking any blame. This impeccable sense of timing eventually drew the Jedi's attention. The robed monks didn't believe in luck or coincidence -- they explained that this was an untrained mind fumbling to grasp the Force. Izidakh was perhaps seven or eight years old by then, none of the clan could rightly say. And though they loved her, life was fragile for the space born. It was better to send one child away for the training that she needed, rather than risk the whole clan falling prey to some later accident. (The visiting Jedi master-student pair made great exhibition of their powers over the course of their investigation.) And, perhaps, one day Izidakh would return. The clan was patient. Carys began her life with the Jedi with a new name and found herself strangely apart from her fellow younglings. Those her own age surpassed her in skill, most a year or more into their training already. Those who matched her talents were younger. These divides, however small, seemed insurmountable at the time. Carys adjusted slowly to life at the temple -- and to life under a real sky. Carys eventually aged out of being selected as a padawan with a rather lopsided affinity for the Force. While she could enhance her body or count objects in other rooms, she showed absolutely no aptitude for staples like telekinesis or telepathy. The Council of Reassignment sent her to continue her education with the Jedi Agricorp on Taanab. It was difficult for awhile, to avoid feeling like a failure. But there were many other young Jedi in the corps who had lived through similar disappointments. Eventually, Carys began to enjoy it there, as though a vast weight of expectation had been lifted off her shoulders. Yet something was missing. The work was peaceful, but the rapidly maturing Firrerreo had no passion for the work and no particular talent for it either. Resigning from the Order in her early twenties, Carys lived on a modest Republic stipend and bounced around between Coruscant's many vocational schools. She learned a little bit of everything, searching for something that felt right. Yet the money could not last forever; Carys worked a string of unglamorous jobs. Her senses, patience, and fitness landed her a security position at Czerka, where she stayed for quite some time. Star ships still reminded her of home, even after the Jedi and everything since. When a former coworker offered her a job working on the smuggling vessel Broken Tooth, Carys accepted immediately ... And perhaps without thinking through the consequences for future employment in the Republic core. There was no magical moment where it all 'clicked,' but she grew to enjoy the structure of shipboard life. More than that, the confined living spaces and regular contact with shipmates felt more like being home than all the years she'd lived alone. When Enzo Kavela talked the captain into expanding their operations, Carys agreed to follow him to the Virago. They pursued a brief physical relationship and, for a while, everything was great. The ship turned a profit sooner than anyone would have guessed and there was no shortage of work. Unfortunately, the Virago was doomed. Whether it was because of a bad tipoff or something else, the ship was crippled in an ambush that they were fully unprepared to handle. Wounded, Carys helped Enzo to an escape pod and barely made it to one herself before passing out from her wounds. When she regained consciousness, the pod had already been towed in by Randoni salvagers -- who were very alarmed when the "corpse" in pod V-9 suddenly freed herself and made a general mess of their workshop. With nothing to her name, Carys was stuck and tied up in Radoni red tape made ever more complicated but her questionable ownership over the pod itself, the damage she'd caused, and the fee levied by her "rescuers" for their generous assistance. By the time she was free of that -- and it settled to the mild dissatisfaction of everyone involved -- there was no tracing down the rest of the surviving crew. She felt through the Force a deep certainty that Enzo was still alive, somewhere. Carys tracked him as far as leaving Randon, apparently months earlier, and abruptly gave up. While she would never admit it, it hurt that he hadn't looked for her. In the time that followed, Carys found work wherever she could and made her way back toward Republic space. And it became harder and harder to find the former, the closer she came to the latter. When honest work was too hard to come by for the ex-pirate, she fell in with the Black Sun. Bodyguard to a mid-ranking boss, Carys performed as an occasionally deadly arm-ornament at dozens of boardroom meetings and parties that ranged from sedate government affairs to Undercity revels. It was terribly lonely. She missed the crew, the almost-clan. For that reason only, she agreed to work for Captain Kavela again when he breezed back into her life. |
