Post by The Conman on Oct 11, 2007 16:41:23 GMT -5
THIS IS A REDO OF DONNIE’S CHARACTER BIO. Basically, she was setup in 2007, and the bio was showing it’s age. I've gone through and updated/added things to make it read more like a current Bio so...
A: it makes more sense
B: I don’t feel bad about abusing the HELL out of the Grandfather Clause.
Name:
(Republican) Doneeda Sok'nada
(Given) Donetas'Oaknadaa ( Say it phonetically....There you go)
Race: Twi'lek
Age: 24
Height:6'1 ( From the top of her Lekku, 6’0 from the top of her skull )
Weight:175 lbs
Birth place: Kala’Unn, Ryloth
Occupation: Smuggler
Rank: N/A
Skills:
Speeder/Swoop/Starship Repair: 7
Droid Repair: 5
Piloting Ground Craft ( Swoops, Speeders, etc ): 7
Piloting Starships/Fighters: 6
Languages:
Twi'leki/Lekku - Fluent, but out of practice
Bocce - Can understand it, can't speak it back.
Huttese - Fluent, preferred language.
Basic - Can read and write, speaks it ( Badly ).
Appearance:
Doneeda is a Bronze colour, with Chevron-like, deep bronze markings, about 2 inches thick and 1 inch apart going from the base of her Lekku to just before the last 6 inches of the them. The tips are the same colour as her markings. Donnie's face is somewhat angular, and well proportioned, with a bright smile and full, dark bronze lips. Her leeku finish up about an inch above her backside, and will twitch and move in relation to her emotional state. Donnie's eyes big and expressive, being an essential part of her limited communication, as if to aid this, and to keep people "eyes up", they're a dark, sapphire blue.
She is in decent shape, not "cut", but has noticeable muscle tone where it count. She's got a bit of a tummy. Nothing that hangs out or over her pants ( no "muffin top" ), but enough to keep Donnie from having the much-venerated "six pack". As a result of her race ( and some genetic luck), her measurements are 45(38G)-30-46. ( Girl's 6'0, when you stretch things out that much it's not *as* crazy. There are naturally occurring precedents for similar measurements in humans, at similar height. Believe it or not, people are built like that. )
Donnie's typically found wearing any number of things. From her Black tank top with cargo pants, to halter tops and booty shorts, she's not got one set wardrobe, and generally goes for comfort and functionality over looks. However, if she decides to put effort into her looks, the result is spectacular.
Personality:
One of the first things that strikes most people about Donnie is her utter disregard for her own safety when she's flying/driving something. Due to her natural talent for piloting, she's as confident flying a starship as she is piloting a swoop a foot off the ground. The next, generally, is her outgoing nature. Donnie likes to interact with people, be it socially or otherwise, she'll talk herself into and out of most of her problems. She's an individual first and last, she doesn't go out of he way to cause disruptions, but if it happens she won't loose sleep over it.
Generally, she’s pretty happy-go-lucky, preferring to joke around about a problem rather than face it head on. Donnie tends to use her dry, sarcastic wit to lighten the situation, even if it’s not the best idea. Donnie deals with bad situations by laughing at how “screwed” she or someone else is. She tries to give off the impression that she doesn't really care about much other than money, booze, and getting a boink. Most of the time because that is actually the case, but sometimes to hide from people knowing they've actually touched a nerve.
The woman's morality is questionable at best. Generally she's got herself in mind, and if she stands to gain something ( Money, Booze, Food, etc ) she'll generally help somebody in need. Doneeda does not really make any attempt to keep her business "above board". That's not to say she tries to be shady. It's more that if a job's shady, and it pays well, she'll take it. If it's not shady, she'll still take it. The Twi'lek views the Jedi and the Sith as extremes of both authority and morality, and, if asked, wouldn't side with either, unless there was a great deal of leverage ( money, stuff, etc ) being used to tempt her.
What comes along with this Morality is a seemingly arbitrary way of selecting friends. On the surface, it seems as if Doneeda simply picks at random people who she likes and trusts. In reality, it's not so simple. Doneeda selects her friends carefully. People who she deems to be trustworthy through a very complicated, convoluted, byzantine system called a "gut feeling". It works for her 9 out of 10 times, so the Amazonian Twi'lek has learned to trust her gut about friends, and people in general.
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 5
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 5
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 3
Melee Weapons: 2
Ranged Weapons: 1
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Bio:
Doneeda was born on Helona ( 6th Month ) 10th, 3576 in Kala’Unn on Ryloth. Her mother was a slave “pleasure girl”, owned by a smallish time crime boss who worked the lower levels. He ran protection, gambling, prostitution, traded weapons and spice, and was generally a nasty individual.
Due to her mother’s status, above a normal prostitute, as a pleasure girl, he allowed Doneeda to be born, seeing the cost of her upbringing and training as an “investment”. Her mother, after all, was equally as stunning to look upon as her progeny.
Doneeda's mother was sold soon after she was born, the boss entrusting her to another slave to watch over her in her early years, a kind Togruta woman called Nesota. The woman was tasked with the onerous task of raising the young Twi’lek, and teaching her the “ways” of her trade. Even from a young age, learning the basic moves she’d need to be able to dance well was considered a priority, even if Doneeda was uncoordinated.
Over the few years she spent with Nesota, Donnie learned some basic dance, but she generally was told to help out with the cleaning and cooking, being too young to do much else. It was during this time she met a peculiar Twi’lek man missing his left Lekku and eye. His name was Miro’talo. The man was the “handyman” of the facility, not speaking much, but taking a shine to the young Doneeda, he would let her watch while he repaired droids and speeders. Even going so far as to answer her 1001 questions about what it was he was doing.
Things then changed, at the ripe old age of 6, she was sold to a Hutt on Tatooine. Her responsibilities didn’t change, even if the venue did. Her life in the far more luxurious palace was pretty much the same, cleaning and learning to dance. She slept on a cot in a secondary speeder bay, where they typically repaired the sail barges, and it was because of this that she was called upon in the repair bay.
Being only 7 years of age, she was small and had small hands, greatly assisting the workers trying to repair the barges and speeders. She was able to crawl into the tight spaces to retrieve lost bolts, or grab wires or parts, learning what things did as she went. The crew that did the repairs found the curious little Twi’lek cute and didn’t mind having her around, provided she was finished her assigned duties.
Things did, however, not go as planned. The Hutt wasn’t impressed with the progress she was making as a dancer. Doneeda, being lanky and uncoordinated as ever was so bad, in fact, that her instructor was shot for his perceived disrespect. The Hutt, knowing full well what her mother and father looked like, and having a fairly good grasp of her “breeding”, gave her a second chance, and assigned her to the best dancer he had, a Zabrak named Balia, and taking her off all her other duties.
Balia was in her early 30s, and had been a dancer all her life, and knew that if she didn’t get Donnie trained, one of them would be sold, probably for cheap. Having seen the kid around the palace before, she felt for her, and did everything she could to teach her. Donnie spent hours in Balia’s quarters learning the acrobatic maneuvers required to dance to the Hutt’s satisfaction. To the point where the young Twi'lek feet were so sore she crawled back to her cot.
This, had a few effects on the now 9 year old Twi’lek. During the 2 years spent with the horned woman, she’d become quite muscular, as was required by her profession. She’d also shot up in height, to nearly 5 feet tall. Her leeku had started to “come in” and were now just below her shoulders, the beginning of her distinctive chevron patterning starting near their base on her head, and the tips darkening.
The result was, that, ironically, Doneeda looked like a 9 year old male Twi’lek, and it didn’t matter how well she danced, the Hutt just couldn’t approve of her. That’s not to say she was any good. During her demonstration, the young Twi’lek fell twice, the second time triggering the Hutt to tell her to stop, angrily.
The Hutt decided he'd had enough, and reassigned her to cleaning work, in the dingy, dark basement of his palace. It was during this time, between cleaning the vile underpinnings of the Hutt’s palace, and helping the repair crews, the nearly year she spent not seeing daylight, between the dungeon like place she was to clean and the bowels of starships, that she got her escape opportunity.
She was working on a trader’s ship, and the man dropped a tool into his engine, and instructed the thin girl to go extract it. Doneeda obliged, crawling down through the myriad of pipes, wires and various other bits and bobs. Once she got there, she noticed there was a “space”. Now, to Donnie, at that time, a space was something just big enough for her to squeeze her awkwardly shaped frame into, and be out of sight.
After returning the tool to the trader, she overheard that he’d be leaving the next morning. Early enough that there wouldn’t be hardly a soul in the repair bay, where her cot was. Initially, her plan was to simply sneak aboard at some point and stow away, hoping that wherever he was going would be better than where she was. That, however, was shot to hell when at all hours of the morning, he came barging into the bay, stumbling drunk, and boarded his ship, leaving the landing ramp down.
The little Twi’lek hardly had a thought go through her head as her legs seemingly of their own volition, propelled her towards the ship, up the ramp, to the stardrive section, then down to the “space”. She squeezed herself in, waiting for the rumble of the ship setting off, freeing her of her subjugation, and terrible job description.
Donnie stayed there for what seemed to be an eternity. In her haste, the little twi’lek had forgotten to bring any food, or water...or even see where the bathroom was. Over what she figured could have only been days, at least, she’d had more than a few close encounters with the Trader on the ship. Having to dodge into a shadow at the last moment, or toss a fork at a wall to make him look the other way, Donnie managed to get water and use the washroom just enough to survive.
It was when she was asleep that Corellian agents raided and boarded the ship, arresting the smuggler and finding her in the process. They thought she was his slave, and put her into an orphanage on Corellia. Lucky for Doneeda, she didn't need to stay for long, a Corellian family adopted her 2 weeks after she was put into the orphanage.
The Human couple that adopted her were unable to have their own children, and decided that Doneeda was as good as any, and took her on as their own. Her "father" spoke Huttese, easing her transition into their lifestyle, which was very different from what she'd come from. When they gave her her own room, she had to have it explained to her that she could leave it at any time, and it took her 3 months to sleep a full night on a real bed. She was more comfortable and felt safer on the floor, beside it.
Doneeda's adopted parents were also rather well off, the father owning 6 Soro-Sub Speeder/Star ship Dealerships across the Core worlds. Her adopted "mother" was pretty much a stay at home mother/artist.
Her parents hired a tutor for her to "catch up" to the rest of the children her age. The tutor taught her a myriad of things. From Language ( mostly very basic Basic) to Science and Mathematics. Doneeda quickly showed an aptitude for the Sciences and the more Technically oriented lessons.
However, her linguists weren't the best, nor were her interpersonal skills. When she was first adopted she spoke no Basic. Things didn't improve quickly either, with her getting frustrated and giving up more often than not, and getting to the point where she'd shut down and not bother with her language instruction. Because of her lack of improvement, and her knowledge of the material required for going to school ( linguistics excepted), at the age of 14 the decision was made to put her into school, so she'd have no choice but to learn the language.
Donnie wasn’t a fan of Corellian high school. Part of it was that she was at a very awkward stage. She was now 5’9, but weighed about 100lbs, she was lanky, awkward, uncoordinated, and constantly tripping over herself. Her leeku had grown from just below her shoulders to almost touching her butt in only 3 years. This lead to them being in the way perpetually, as well as looking ridiculous, the teenage Twi’lek never having had an older member of her species teach her how to deal with them. The result was that Donnie, the quiet, freakishly tall, wafer thin, and very pretty facially, Twi’lek that didn’t speak a lick of basic became the butt a large amount of bullying.
Another issue facing her was that she was going to one of the “higher class” high schools in Coronet, due to her parents wealth. This posed a few problems, one was that it was VERY human biased in it’s attendance, Donnie being one of only three Twi’leks attending, and the only one with naturally patterned leeku. While that doesn’t mean anything, it’s something different, and they latched onto it immediately, calling her derogatory names like “stripes” or “inky”, alluding to her having them tattooed as opposed to them being natural.
Conversely, Donnie’s performance in her classes, Basic Studies excepted, was spectacular. Her instructors realized very quickly she was extremely intelligent, excelling in math, science, engineering and programming, and, oddly enough, Physical Education.The Twi’leks scores were undeniably above average, her natural aptitude for the “geekier” things ensuring she was generally in the top 5% of her more technically oriented classes.
After her first year, and knocking out a fellow student for bothering her incessantly, it was recommended she see the school’s counsellor on a weekly basis, to try to figure out how to help her integrate into Republican life. The sessions were, initially, like pulling teeth. Doneeda hadn’t ever had to talk about how she felt about something or someone. It had to be explained that it actually did matter what she thought.
This, however, just put the counsellor in her crosshairs. Instead of talking about her problems, Donnie simply took out her anger on the poor woman, at one point tossing a flower vase at the protocol droid who was interpreting out of frustration. The counsellor kept trying, but Donnie’s personal life had fallen into a tailspin. She had no idea how to integrate with the other students, they saw her as a thing to make fun of, due to her strange appearance and rough Huttese ( some of them spoke it ) dialect, they knew she didn’t belong with them.
The counsellor, trying to help a now 16 year old Doneeda, did everything she could. Mock conversations, situation training, help with Basic. She even went so far as to bring in a friend of her’s who specialized in interpersonal communication, basically a PR guy, to help her. No matter how hard Donnie tried, it wasn’t enough. She was now 5’11, 120 lbs, with an oddly shaped body whereby she had wide hips and nothing else. Basically, her “Frame” was nearly finished, but she was still a wafer thin, but powerfully muscular due to the time she spent blowing off frustration by running or weight training. The counsellor tried to tell her she’d grow into her looks, but she was too far gone.
To her parents great dismay, she continued to slide and became more and more introverted and frustrated. No matter what she did, she couldn't get accepted by her peers. Not even the ones who were the same species. Donnie spent most, if not all, of her free time either in her room tinkering with droids, working on a beat up speeder she’d rescued from one of her “father’s” dealerships, or in the family’s gym, blowing off steam.
Around the time she was 17 things had hit bottom. She was skipping the classes she didn't like at school, wasn't even bothering speaking to her parents, who seemed to think the answer to everything was a counselor, doctor, or tutor. It was also around this time, she started to “fill out”. Over the course of a summer, mainly spent working in her “father’s” local dealership as a mechanic, she hit 6’0. By the time she went back to school, she had curves. Not even close to what she’d wind up with, but from the neck down, Donnie wasn’t easily recognizable, she’d changed that much.
During the summer, she’d also been exposed to people who worked at the Dealership. Normal people, not the snobbish, bigoted, high schoolers she’d been exposed to until that point. It changed her, in a very good way. They talked to her like an equal, offered assistance with problems she was having, and, probably most importantly, respected her blunt and sarcastic way of communicating in basic. It was also, the first time, in her entire life, she’d caught people staring at her backside, and more than once had to tell a coworker “I’m up here”.
Going back to school for her final year, Donnie parked her brand new Swoop she’d bought with her earnings from her summer job in the lot beside the school. The continual jeers from the Twi’lek peanut gallery in the halls were gone, and the males, who generally ignored her, well...didn’t. Her final year in school was, easily, the most interesting, for a number of reasons. Firstly, she got a part time job at Pirken’s Performance and Custom Machining, a local hot-rodding shop that specialized in Swoops and Speeders.
Donnie didn’t stop skipping classes. As a matter of fact, at least 3 days a week she’d skive off class and go to work at Pirken’s. They didn’t care that she skipped, most of them had done the same thing and were gainfully employed, so they “understood”, basically. It also probably helped that her and the owner’s son were bumpin’ uglies.
It wasn’t, however, a match made in heaven. Donnie was young, dumb and impressionable. Jan Pirkin, her boyfriend, was as crooked as they come, dealing in spice, weapons, and occasionally ( not to Donnie’s knowledge ), slaves. He noticed his girlfriend’s raw talent on a swoop almost immediately, and capitalized on it, suggesting that Doneeda run a few illegal races with her “monster” of a swoop.
Donnie, young and stupid, agreed. Things progressed slowly at first. Only happening on weekends so the young Twi’lek could continue her studies, when she wasn’t working or in the gym at the school, keeping herself in shape. Over the next few months, a few things happened.
Doneeda was expelled from the school. Her attendance was simply too low, and her marks were all failing, Donnie not showing up for tests most of the time. She continued to “fill out”, reaching her final height of 6’1, and her “curves” finally finished growing in. This forced her to buy a new wardrobe, as by the time she turned 19 ( the end of the school year, if she was attending ), nothing fit. It was either too short, too tight, or simply wouldn’t go over or around a part of her physiology. Additionally, the young Twi’lek started smuggling.
Initially it was small amounts, for Jan mainly. Then, after a month or two, more, and more, to the point where she was doing runs nearly daily with 30-50 kilograms of spice in the saddlebags of her swoop. Before she knew it, Donnie was rubbing shoulders with some very nasty individuals in the underworld of Coronet, individuals that appreciated her talent and, she found out, if she dressed the right way, would toss in an extra few credits just to have her do a drop.
It was also during this time that her relationship with her parents went from sour to dead. Upon her expulsion, her “father” tried to convince her to get a tutor, so she could at least finish her Basic Education Certification. Donnie was having none of it, tired of being the “ethnic adopted kid”. She packed a few belongings into a backpack, then stormed out, winding up at Pirken’s Performance, sleeping in a cot in a disused portion of their basement. Or, sharing Jan’s bed.
Over the next year, Donnie slid into the underworld like she was born for it, eventually walking away from Jan due to him trying to cut her out of a deal she’d setup. She saw it as a betrayal of her trust, packed her things, hopped on her Swoop, and found an apartment that’d take cash for rent, had a gym, and didn’t ask questions. Donnie continued to smuggle, moving product around the city for various criminal elements. It was also during this time that she started to partake in her product.
Doneeda quickly realized that while she was able to do large amounts of spice and simply stop when she’d had enough, the vast majority, were not. She wasn’t sure if it had something to do with her physiology, being of relatively high muscle mass and density, or if it was because she was a Twi’lek. In reality, it didn’t matter that much, she was riding a wave of cash and fun, with no end in sight.
Things were going well but, crime is an unpredictable business. The Corellian police had caught wind of the smuggling operation she was involved with and had launched and investigation into it. During the beginning of the investigation, they managed to intercept Doneeda on a run, and talk to her. During this "interception", they managed to get her to tell them about a major drop that was going to take place. She gave them everything, the who, what , where, when, why. All in exchange for them "forgetting" they had the conversation with her.
With all her friends captured and awaiting trial, and only a matter of time before word got out that she'd been the one who tipped off the cops, the misguided girl decided that her welcome was officially overstayed and left, headed for Coruscant.
Since I’m not re-apping, this is just a re-do of Donnie’s bio ( it’s the same, basically, just expanded/cleaned up ) I’m not redoing the RP Sample. Enough of you have seen her in action to know what she’s all about.
RP Sample:
Doneeda's head was on a pivot. She was about half way into a run for one of the more...time sensitive, bosses on Corellia. He'd also loaded her swoop down with about 50 Kilos of Spice.
Doneeda zoomed around the traffic in the Corellian sky, trying to seem "normal". Not like she was trying to be anywhere, but still trying to move quickly so she could minimize her exposure time. It was working mostly, she generally took a route so erratic and twisting that she'd have to look at her nav computer sometimes to get her bearings. It was on one of these looks that she spotted a speeder in her rear view camera that she'd seen earlier. Doneeda decided not to take any chances, and hit the "recalculate" button on her nav, getting it to generate a new route for her. The new route popped up onto the computer and she took a hard left into an alley, followed by a hard right into traffic and then another left down a side street. She looked at the camera. Speeder was still there.
"Dam'id" She said as she looked up, hitting the recalculate button again and diving into a hard right, into yet another alley.
She came out into a main street and took zoomed up it, deciding that she'd had quite enough of being followed by "Coronet's Finest" she twisted her right hand until it stopped and hunkered down as she watched the speedometer zip by 600 Km/h. Doneeda was a decent pilot, and was able to zip around the traffic that was moving up the lane, diving into a very hard left and sliding into another alley, then out the other side and into a hard right so she could get back into traffic. She looked down.
"Dis in'dt good" she muttered to herself as she spotted a speeder on her tail. When she looked up, there were two more about 4 speeder lengths in front of her, and slowing down. She only had one chance. An alley on the left, if she gunned it, she'd be able to dive down it and maybe loose them.
Damn'd 'f I do, Damn'd 'f I don'. Wad'a hek? She thought to herself as she gunned it and made for the alley. The speeder on her tail stayed glued there, keeping with her through the whole maneuver, the other two, she'd evaded. Now all she had to do was loose the other one.
Doneeda flew as fast and as erratically as she could through the alley, getting her nav to give her a way out and she followed it, easily outracing the speeder that was behind her as she raced towards the exit, grinning like an idiot as she rounded the last corner, confident she'd lost them and would be able to make the delivery on time.
But her grin soon disappeared, as did her delusions of punctuality. At the end of the tunnel, stood the other two speeders she'd thought she evaded earlier on, and the officers were standing with their blasters drawn, aiming at her. Doneeda barely had time to hit the brakes. She managed to keep the Swoop under control until the last 50 feet or so between her and the speeders, but the extra weight acted as a pendulum and the swoop ended up sliding sideways, then dumping her off as it slid into the speeders.
HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE 'EM
One of the officers said, moving towards her, pistol still drawn.
Doneeda obliged, putting her hands in the air in surrender. As she did so, she heard the sound of an approaching speeder from behind her. It stopped and she heard a door open then close, followed by the sound of footsteps. A tallish man, with grey hair and a slight build walked in front of her, and muttered something to the officers, they put their weapons down and backed up to their cruisers.
Ahh, Miss Sok'nada. My name is Detective Jaris Malkora, and I've been watching you for quite some time now. Your becoming quite the young smuggler it seems, moving product for just about every piece of scum calling themselves a criminal in this town. Now, If I ask you what I'll find in your Swoop if I open the panniers, what will you say?
Doneeda just glared at him. The worst kind of cop, the ones who are just as crooked as you but will never admit it. They think they are riding the high horse of justice but in reality they are only riding on the backs of the bruised that they used to get to where they are. He's got more skeletons in his closet than a kleptomaniac mortician.
Well, Miss Sok'nada, what will I find? He pressed.
fivdy keys o' da bes'pice on'dis rock. She said, grinning at him.
He smirked.
I figured as much...You see, Doneeda, I have a problem. put your hands down, lets go for a walk. He said, motioning towards the alley. Doneeda obliged, moving in that direction. Running was pointless, he probably had the entrance blocked as well as the exit.
The problem is this; I have been entrusted to stop the smuggling in Coronet. Now, as you know, a good chunk of my pay, like yours, comes from the movement of illegal, illicit, and immoral things through this great town of ours. Now, I can bust you, but honestly, its not worth the paperwork, and you'll walk because your 18. OR, you and I can make a deal.
Doneeda turned and looked at him.
I listinin'. She said.
I want them all. Your group that you work with. We know that Pirkens Performance is a front, we've been watching it for months now. All we need is an in, if you give us that in, I can forget we had this conversation tonight.
Doneeda stopped walking and crossed her arms, and thought for a moment. She could give up everybody. Tell him everything. But who's to say he won't just screw her anyways and bust them as well?
Aow d'I kno' dat 'ou won' jus' 'res me an'den bus'dem an'way?
Jaris smirked.
You don't. You aren't worth it too me, plain and simple. If I'd wanted to take you in, I would have months ago. My only condition to this deal is that you are off the planet within 48 hours, can't have the competition sticking around now can we?
Doneeda looked at him for a few seconds, trying to see some hint of him being dishonest. Aside from the fact that he was more of a criminal than she was, she couldn't see any indication.
Why me? Why nod 'ne o de mo' impordand ones? She asked simply.
Jaris dropped his smirk for a second, thought, then spoke.
Why you? Your the only one who's worth giving a second chance. The rest of your "crew", they are all unforgivable as far as I'm concerned. Most of them have committed far worse crimes than simply smuggling spice, you and I both know that. This isn't a business for kids, and I'm giving you a way out. Take it, and don't look back. I've seen your marks, and spoken with your instructors, your better than this and you know it. So get outta here while you have the chance.
Doneeda was looking firmly at the ground by this point, fascinated by the concrete. She couldn't look the man in the face. He'd hit the nail on the head and he knew it. She was too ashamed to look at him, realizing that he'd done his homework, and he was only here to get her out. More than likely, he knew something she didn't as well. Either way, she wasn't about to find out what it was, her gut was telling her that he knew a lot more than he was saying.
Block 29, building 3284, floor 34, room 3214. Be 'dere a' 10:30 an' 'ou ged all of 'em. Jus' make sure' 'ou brin' a lod o' guys. Dey's somewhad par'noid.
She said to the floor.
Jaris walked over to her and extended his right hand. It took Doneeda a second to recognize the custom. She extended her right hand and shook his. As she pulled away she noticed something in her hand. She looked down at it, a 500 Credit bill. She looked at Jaris.
Pleasure doing business with you. You've got 48 hours to clear off. We'll take care of this mess, the speeder and spice are mine, now go. Get outta here before I change my mind!
Doneeda didn't waste any time, and made for the street as quickly as she could, heading for the nearest public transit station so she could get to the spaceport and get off Corellia.
This is Doneeda Talking
This is Doneeda Thinking , Force users can hear this.
I'm a little rusty, its been awhile. Hope this passes the white glove inspection!
A: it makes more sense
B: I don’t feel bad about abusing the HELL out of the Grandfather Clause.
Name:
(Republican) Doneeda Sok'nada
(Given) Donetas'Oaknadaa ( Say it phonetically....There you go)
Race: Twi'lek
Age: 24
Height:6'1 ( From the top of her Lekku, 6’0 from the top of her skull )
Weight:175 lbs
Birth place: Kala’Unn, Ryloth
Occupation: Smuggler
Rank: N/A
Skills:
Speeder/Swoop/Starship Repair: 7
Droid Repair: 5
Piloting Ground Craft ( Swoops, Speeders, etc ): 7
Piloting Starships/Fighters: 6
Languages:
Twi'leki/Lekku - Fluent, but out of practice
Bocce - Can understand it, can't speak it back.
Huttese - Fluent, preferred language.
Basic - Can read and write, speaks it ( Badly ).
Appearance:
Doneeda is a Bronze colour, with Chevron-like, deep bronze markings, about 2 inches thick and 1 inch apart going from the base of her Lekku to just before the last 6 inches of the them. The tips are the same colour as her markings. Donnie's face is somewhat angular, and well proportioned, with a bright smile and full, dark bronze lips. Her leeku finish up about an inch above her backside, and will twitch and move in relation to her emotional state. Donnie's eyes big and expressive, being an essential part of her limited communication, as if to aid this, and to keep people "eyes up", they're a dark, sapphire blue.
She is in decent shape, not "cut", but has noticeable muscle tone where it count. She's got a bit of a tummy. Nothing that hangs out or over her pants ( no "muffin top" ), but enough to keep Donnie from having the much-venerated "six pack". As a result of her race ( and some genetic luck), her measurements are 45(38G)-30-46. ( Girl's 6'0, when you stretch things out that much it's not *as* crazy. There are naturally occurring precedents for similar measurements in humans, at similar height. Believe it or not, people are built like that. )
Donnie's typically found wearing any number of things. From her Black tank top with cargo pants, to halter tops and booty shorts, she's not got one set wardrobe, and generally goes for comfort and functionality over looks. However, if she decides to put effort into her looks, the result is spectacular.
Personality:
One of the first things that strikes most people about Donnie is her utter disregard for her own safety when she's flying/driving something. Due to her natural talent for piloting, she's as confident flying a starship as she is piloting a swoop a foot off the ground. The next, generally, is her outgoing nature. Donnie likes to interact with people, be it socially or otherwise, she'll talk herself into and out of most of her problems. She's an individual first and last, she doesn't go out of he way to cause disruptions, but if it happens she won't loose sleep over it.
Generally, she’s pretty happy-go-lucky, preferring to joke around about a problem rather than face it head on. Donnie tends to use her dry, sarcastic wit to lighten the situation, even if it’s not the best idea. Donnie deals with bad situations by laughing at how “screwed” she or someone else is. She tries to give off the impression that she doesn't really care about much other than money, booze, and getting a boink. Most of the time because that is actually the case, but sometimes to hide from people knowing they've actually touched a nerve.
The woman's morality is questionable at best. Generally she's got herself in mind, and if she stands to gain something ( Money, Booze, Food, etc ) she'll generally help somebody in need. Doneeda does not really make any attempt to keep her business "above board". That's not to say she tries to be shady. It's more that if a job's shady, and it pays well, she'll take it. If it's not shady, she'll still take it. The Twi'lek views the Jedi and the Sith as extremes of both authority and morality, and, if asked, wouldn't side with either, unless there was a great deal of leverage ( money, stuff, etc ) being used to tempt her.
What comes along with this Morality is a seemingly arbitrary way of selecting friends. On the surface, it seems as if Doneeda simply picks at random people who she likes and trusts. In reality, it's not so simple. Doneeda selects her friends carefully. People who she deems to be trustworthy through a very complicated, convoluted, byzantine system called a "gut feeling". It works for her 9 out of 10 times, so the Amazonian Twi'lek has learned to trust her gut about friends, and people in general.
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 5
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 5
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 3
Melee Weapons: 2
Ranged Weapons: 1
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Bio:
Doneeda was born on Helona ( 6th Month ) 10th, 3576 in Kala’Unn on Ryloth. Her mother was a slave “pleasure girl”, owned by a smallish time crime boss who worked the lower levels. He ran protection, gambling, prostitution, traded weapons and spice, and was generally a nasty individual.
Due to her mother’s status, above a normal prostitute, as a pleasure girl, he allowed Doneeda to be born, seeing the cost of her upbringing and training as an “investment”. Her mother, after all, was equally as stunning to look upon as her progeny.
Doneeda's mother was sold soon after she was born, the boss entrusting her to another slave to watch over her in her early years, a kind Togruta woman called Nesota. The woman was tasked with the onerous task of raising the young Twi’lek, and teaching her the “ways” of her trade. Even from a young age, learning the basic moves she’d need to be able to dance well was considered a priority, even if Doneeda was uncoordinated.
Over the few years she spent with Nesota, Donnie learned some basic dance, but she generally was told to help out with the cleaning and cooking, being too young to do much else. It was during this time she met a peculiar Twi’lek man missing his left Lekku and eye. His name was Miro’talo. The man was the “handyman” of the facility, not speaking much, but taking a shine to the young Doneeda, he would let her watch while he repaired droids and speeders. Even going so far as to answer her 1001 questions about what it was he was doing.
Things then changed, at the ripe old age of 6, she was sold to a Hutt on Tatooine. Her responsibilities didn’t change, even if the venue did. Her life in the far more luxurious palace was pretty much the same, cleaning and learning to dance. She slept on a cot in a secondary speeder bay, where they typically repaired the sail barges, and it was because of this that she was called upon in the repair bay.
Being only 7 years of age, she was small and had small hands, greatly assisting the workers trying to repair the barges and speeders. She was able to crawl into the tight spaces to retrieve lost bolts, or grab wires or parts, learning what things did as she went. The crew that did the repairs found the curious little Twi’lek cute and didn’t mind having her around, provided she was finished her assigned duties.
Things did, however, not go as planned. The Hutt wasn’t impressed with the progress she was making as a dancer. Doneeda, being lanky and uncoordinated as ever was so bad, in fact, that her instructor was shot for his perceived disrespect. The Hutt, knowing full well what her mother and father looked like, and having a fairly good grasp of her “breeding”, gave her a second chance, and assigned her to the best dancer he had, a Zabrak named Balia, and taking her off all her other duties.
Balia was in her early 30s, and had been a dancer all her life, and knew that if she didn’t get Donnie trained, one of them would be sold, probably for cheap. Having seen the kid around the palace before, she felt for her, and did everything she could to teach her. Donnie spent hours in Balia’s quarters learning the acrobatic maneuvers required to dance to the Hutt’s satisfaction. To the point where the young Twi'lek feet were so sore she crawled back to her cot.
This, had a few effects on the now 9 year old Twi’lek. During the 2 years spent with the horned woman, she’d become quite muscular, as was required by her profession. She’d also shot up in height, to nearly 5 feet tall. Her leeku had started to “come in” and were now just below her shoulders, the beginning of her distinctive chevron patterning starting near their base on her head, and the tips darkening.
The result was, that, ironically, Doneeda looked like a 9 year old male Twi’lek, and it didn’t matter how well she danced, the Hutt just couldn’t approve of her. That’s not to say she was any good. During her demonstration, the young Twi’lek fell twice, the second time triggering the Hutt to tell her to stop, angrily.
The Hutt decided he'd had enough, and reassigned her to cleaning work, in the dingy, dark basement of his palace. It was during this time, between cleaning the vile underpinnings of the Hutt’s palace, and helping the repair crews, the nearly year she spent not seeing daylight, between the dungeon like place she was to clean and the bowels of starships, that she got her escape opportunity.
She was working on a trader’s ship, and the man dropped a tool into his engine, and instructed the thin girl to go extract it. Doneeda obliged, crawling down through the myriad of pipes, wires and various other bits and bobs. Once she got there, she noticed there was a “space”. Now, to Donnie, at that time, a space was something just big enough for her to squeeze her awkwardly shaped frame into, and be out of sight.
After returning the tool to the trader, she overheard that he’d be leaving the next morning. Early enough that there wouldn’t be hardly a soul in the repair bay, where her cot was. Initially, her plan was to simply sneak aboard at some point and stow away, hoping that wherever he was going would be better than where she was. That, however, was shot to hell when at all hours of the morning, he came barging into the bay, stumbling drunk, and boarded his ship, leaving the landing ramp down.
The little Twi’lek hardly had a thought go through her head as her legs seemingly of their own volition, propelled her towards the ship, up the ramp, to the stardrive section, then down to the “space”. She squeezed herself in, waiting for the rumble of the ship setting off, freeing her of her subjugation, and terrible job description.
Donnie stayed there for what seemed to be an eternity. In her haste, the little twi’lek had forgotten to bring any food, or water...or even see where the bathroom was. Over what she figured could have only been days, at least, she’d had more than a few close encounters with the Trader on the ship. Having to dodge into a shadow at the last moment, or toss a fork at a wall to make him look the other way, Donnie managed to get water and use the washroom just enough to survive.
It was when she was asleep that Corellian agents raided and boarded the ship, arresting the smuggler and finding her in the process. They thought she was his slave, and put her into an orphanage on Corellia. Lucky for Doneeda, she didn't need to stay for long, a Corellian family adopted her 2 weeks after she was put into the orphanage.
The Human couple that adopted her were unable to have their own children, and decided that Doneeda was as good as any, and took her on as their own. Her "father" spoke Huttese, easing her transition into their lifestyle, which was very different from what she'd come from. When they gave her her own room, she had to have it explained to her that she could leave it at any time, and it took her 3 months to sleep a full night on a real bed. She was more comfortable and felt safer on the floor, beside it.
Doneeda's adopted parents were also rather well off, the father owning 6 Soro-Sub Speeder/Star ship Dealerships across the Core worlds. Her adopted "mother" was pretty much a stay at home mother/artist.
Her parents hired a tutor for her to "catch up" to the rest of the children her age. The tutor taught her a myriad of things. From Language ( mostly very basic Basic) to Science and Mathematics. Doneeda quickly showed an aptitude for the Sciences and the more Technically oriented lessons.
However, her linguists weren't the best, nor were her interpersonal skills. When she was first adopted she spoke no Basic. Things didn't improve quickly either, with her getting frustrated and giving up more often than not, and getting to the point where she'd shut down and not bother with her language instruction. Because of her lack of improvement, and her knowledge of the material required for going to school ( linguistics excepted), at the age of 14 the decision was made to put her into school, so she'd have no choice but to learn the language.
Donnie wasn’t a fan of Corellian high school. Part of it was that she was at a very awkward stage. She was now 5’9, but weighed about 100lbs, she was lanky, awkward, uncoordinated, and constantly tripping over herself. Her leeku had grown from just below her shoulders to almost touching her butt in only 3 years. This lead to them being in the way perpetually, as well as looking ridiculous, the teenage Twi’lek never having had an older member of her species teach her how to deal with them. The result was that Donnie, the quiet, freakishly tall, wafer thin, and very pretty facially, Twi’lek that didn’t speak a lick of basic became the butt a large amount of bullying.
Another issue facing her was that she was going to one of the “higher class” high schools in Coronet, due to her parents wealth. This posed a few problems, one was that it was VERY human biased in it’s attendance, Donnie being one of only three Twi’leks attending, and the only one with naturally patterned leeku. While that doesn’t mean anything, it’s something different, and they latched onto it immediately, calling her derogatory names like “stripes” or “inky”, alluding to her having them tattooed as opposed to them being natural.
Conversely, Donnie’s performance in her classes, Basic Studies excepted, was spectacular. Her instructors realized very quickly she was extremely intelligent, excelling in math, science, engineering and programming, and, oddly enough, Physical Education.The Twi’leks scores were undeniably above average, her natural aptitude for the “geekier” things ensuring she was generally in the top 5% of her more technically oriented classes.
After her first year, and knocking out a fellow student for bothering her incessantly, it was recommended she see the school’s counsellor on a weekly basis, to try to figure out how to help her integrate into Republican life. The sessions were, initially, like pulling teeth. Doneeda hadn’t ever had to talk about how she felt about something or someone. It had to be explained that it actually did matter what she thought.
This, however, just put the counsellor in her crosshairs. Instead of talking about her problems, Donnie simply took out her anger on the poor woman, at one point tossing a flower vase at the protocol droid who was interpreting out of frustration. The counsellor kept trying, but Donnie’s personal life had fallen into a tailspin. She had no idea how to integrate with the other students, they saw her as a thing to make fun of, due to her strange appearance and rough Huttese ( some of them spoke it ) dialect, they knew she didn’t belong with them.
The counsellor, trying to help a now 16 year old Doneeda, did everything she could. Mock conversations, situation training, help with Basic. She even went so far as to bring in a friend of her’s who specialized in interpersonal communication, basically a PR guy, to help her. No matter how hard Donnie tried, it wasn’t enough. She was now 5’11, 120 lbs, with an oddly shaped body whereby she had wide hips and nothing else. Basically, her “Frame” was nearly finished, but she was still a wafer thin, but powerfully muscular due to the time she spent blowing off frustration by running or weight training. The counsellor tried to tell her she’d grow into her looks, but she was too far gone.
To her parents great dismay, she continued to slide and became more and more introverted and frustrated. No matter what she did, she couldn't get accepted by her peers. Not even the ones who were the same species. Donnie spent most, if not all, of her free time either in her room tinkering with droids, working on a beat up speeder she’d rescued from one of her “father’s” dealerships, or in the family’s gym, blowing off steam.
Around the time she was 17 things had hit bottom. She was skipping the classes she didn't like at school, wasn't even bothering speaking to her parents, who seemed to think the answer to everything was a counselor, doctor, or tutor. It was also around this time, she started to “fill out”. Over the course of a summer, mainly spent working in her “father’s” local dealership as a mechanic, she hit 6’0. By the time she went back to school, she had curves. Not even close to what she’d wind up with, but from the neck down, Donnie wasn’t easily recognizable, she’d changed that much.
During the summer, she’d also been exposed to people who worked at the Dealership. Normal people, not the snobbish, bigoted, high schoolers she’d been exposed to until that point. It changed her, in a very good way. They talked to her like an equal, offered assistance with problems she was having, and, probably most importantly, respected her blunt and sarcastic way of communicating in basic. It was also, the first time, in her entire life, she’d caught people staring at her backside, and more than once had to tell a coworker “I’m up here”.
Going back to school for her final year, Donnie parked her brand new Swoop she’d bought with her earnings from her summer job in the lot beside the school. The continual jeers from the Twi’lek peanut gallery in the halls were gone, and the males, who generally ignored her, well...didn’t. Her final year in school was, easily, the most interesting, for a number of reasons. Firstly, she got a part time job at Pirken’s Performance and Custom Machining, a local hot-rodding shop that specialized in Swoops and Speeders.
Donnie didn’t stop skipping classes. As a matter of fact, at least 3 days a week she’d skive off class and go to work at Pirken’s. They didn’t care that she skipped, most of them had done the same thing and were gainfully employed, so they “understood”, basically. It also probably helped that her and the owner’s son were bumpin’ uglies.
It wasn’t, however, a match made in heaven. Donnie was young, dumb and impressionable. Jan Pirkin, her boyfriend, was as crooked as they come, dealing in spice, weapons, and occasionally ( not to Donnie’s knowledge ), slaves. He noticed his girlfriend’s raw talent on a swoop almost immediately, and capitalized on it, suggesting that Doneeda run a few illegal races with her “monster” of a swoop.
Donnie, young and stupid, agreed. Things progressed slowly at first. Only happening on weekends so the young Twi’lek could continue her studies, when she wasn’t working or in the gym at the school, keeping herself in shape. Over the next few months, a few things happened.
Doneeda was expelled from the school. Her attendance was simply too low, and her marks were all failing, Donnie not showing up for tests most of the time. She continued to “fill out”, reaching her final height of 6’1, and her “curves” finally finished growing in. This forced her to buy a new wardrobe, as by the time she turned 19 ( the end of the school year, if she was attending ), nothing fit. It was either too short, too tight, or simply wouldn’t go over or around a part of her physiology. Additionally, the young Twi’lek started smuggling.
Initially it was small amounts, for Jan mainly. Then, after a month or two, more, and more, to the point where she was doing runs nearly daily with 30-50 kilograms of spice in the saddlebags of her swoop. Before she knew it, Donnie was rubbing shoulders with some very nasty individuals in the underworld of Coronet, individuals that appreciated her talent and, she found out, if she dressed the right way, would toss in an extra few credits just to have her do a drop.
It was also during this time that her relationship with her parents went from sour to dead. Upon her expulsion, her “father” tried to convince her to get a tutor, so she could at least finish her Basic Education Certification. Donnie was having none of it, tired of being the “ethnic adopted kid”. She packed a few belongings into a backpack, then stormed out, winding up at Pirken’s Performance, sleeping in a cot in a disused portion of their basement. Or, sharing Jan’s bed.
Over the next year, Donnie slid into the underworld like she was born for it, eventually walking away from Jan due to him trying to cut her out of a deal she’d setup. She saw it as a betrayal of her trust, packed her things, hopped on her Swoop, and found an apartment that’d take cash for rent, had a gym, and didn’t ask questions. Donnie continued to smuggle, moving product around the city for various criminal elements. It was also during this time that she started to partake in her product.
Doneeda quickly realized that while she was able to do large amounts of spice and simply stop when she’d had enough, the vast majority, were not. She wasn’t sure if it had something to do with her physiology, being of relatively high muscle mass and density, or if it was because she was a Twi’lek. In reality, it didn’t matter that much, she was riding a wave of cash and fun, with no end in sight.
Things were going well but, crime is an unpredictable business. The Corellian police had caught wind of the smuggling operation she was involved with and had launched and investigation into it. During the beginning of the investigation, they managed to intercept Doneeda on a run, and talk to her. During this "interception", they managed to get her to tell them about a major drop that was going to take place. She gave them everything, the who, what , where, when, why. All in exchange for them "forgetting" they had the conversation with her.
With all her friends captured and awaiting trial, and only a matter of time before word got out that she'd been the one who tipped off the cops, the misguided girl decided that her welcome was officially overstayed and left, headed for Coruscant.
Since I’m not re-apping, this is just a re-do of Donnie’s bio ( it’s the same, basically, just expanded/cleaned up ) I’m not redoing the RP Sample. Enough of you have seen her in action to know what she’s all about.
RP Sample:
Doneeda's head was on a pivot. She was about half way into a run for one of the more...time sensitive, bosses on Corellia. He'd also loaded her swoop down with about 50 Kilos of Spice.
Doneeda zoomed around the traffic in the Corellian sky, trying to seem "normal". Not like she was trying to be anywhere, but still trying to move quickly so she could minimize her exposure time. It was working mostly, she generally took a route so erratic and twisting that she'd have to look at her nav computer sometimes to get her bearings. It was on one of these looks that she spotted a speeder in her rear view camera that she'd seen earlier. Doneeda decided not to take any chances, and hit the "recalculate" button on her nav, getting it to generate a new route for her. The new route popped up onto the computer and she took a hard left into an alley, followed by a hard right into traffic and then another left down a side street. She looked at the camera. Speeder was still there.
"Dam'id" She said as she looked up, hitting the recalculate button again and diving into a hard right, into yet another alley.
She came out into a main street and took zoomed up it, deciding that she'd had quite enough of being followed by "Coronet's Finest" she twisted her right hand until it stopped and hunkered down as she watched the speedometer zip by 600 Km/h. Doneeda was a decent pilot, and was able to zip around the traffic that was moving up the lane, diving into a very hard left and sliding into another alley, then out the other side and into a hard right so she could get back into traffic. She looked down.
"Dis in'dt good" she muttered to herself as she spotted a speeder on her tail. When she looked up, there were two more about 4 speeder lengths in front of her, and slowing down. She only had one chance. An alley on the left, if she gunned it, she'd be able to dive down it and maybe loose them.
Damn'd 'f I do, Damn'd 'f I don'. Wad'a hek? She thought to herself as she gunned it and made for the alley. The speeder on her tail stayed glued there, keeping with her through the whole maneuver, the other two, she'd evaded. Now all she had to do was loose the other one.
Doneeda flew as fast and as erratically as she could through the alley, getting her nav to give her a way out and she followed it, easily outracing the speeder that was behind her as she raced towards the exit, grinning like an idiot as she rounded the last corner, confident she'd lost them and would be able to make the delivery on time.
But her grin soon disappeared, as did her delusions of punctuality. At the end of the tunnel, stood the other two speeders she'd thought she evaded earlier on, and the officers were standing with their blasters drawn, aiming at her. Doneeda barely had time to hit the brakes. She managed to keep the Swoop under control until the last 50 feet or so between her and the speeders, but the extra weight acted as a pendulum and the swoop ended up sliding sideways, then dumping her off as it slid into the speeders.
HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE 'EM
One of the officers said, moving towards her, pistol still drawn.
Doneeda obliged, putting her hands in the air in surrender. As she did so, she heard the sound of an approaching speeder from behind her. It stopped and she heard a door open then close, followed by the sound of footsteps. A tallish man, with grey hair and a slight build walked in front of her, and muttered something to the officers, they put their weapons down and backed up to their cruisers.
Ahh, Miss Sok'nada. My name is Detective Jaris Malkora, and I've been watching you for quite some time now. Your becoming quite the young smuggler it seems, moving product for just about every piece of scum calling themselves a criminal in this town. Now, If I ask you what I'll find in your Swoop if I open the panniers, what will you say?
Doneeda just glared at him. The worst kind of cop, the ones who are just as crooked as you but will never admit it. They think they are riding the high horse of justice but in reality they are only riding on the backs of the bruised that they used to get to where they are. He's got more skeletons in his closet than a kleptomaniac mortician.
Well, Miss Sok'nada, what will I find? He pressed.
fivdy keys o' da bes'pice on'dis rock. She said, grinning at him.
He smirked.
I figured as much...You see, Doneeda, I have a problem. put your hands down, lets go for a walk. He said, motioning towards the alley. Doneeda obliged, moving in that direction. Running was pointless, he probably had the entrance blocked as well as the exit.
The problem is this; I have been entrusted to stop the smuggling in Coronet. Now, as you know, a good chunk of my pay, like yours, comes from the movement of illegal, illicit, and immoral things through this great town of ours. Now, I can bust you, but honestly, its not worth the paperwork, and you'll walk because your 18. OR, you and I can make a deal.
Doneeda turned and looked at him.
I listinin'. She said.
I want them all. Your group that you work with. We know that Pirkens Performance is a front, we've been watching it for months now. All we need is an in, if you give us that in, I can forget we had this conversation tonight.
Doneeda stopped walking and crossed her arms, and thought for a moment. She could give up everybody. Tell him everything. But who's to say he won't just screw her anyways and bust them as well?
Aow d'I kno' dat 'ou won' jus' 'res me an'den bus'dem an'way?
Jaris smirked.
You don't. You aren't worth it too me, plain and simple. If I'd wanted to take you in, I would have months ago. My only condition to this deal is that you are off the planet within 48 hours, can't have the competition sticking around now can we?
Doneeda looked at him for a few seconds, trying to see some hint of him being dishonest. Aside from the fact that he was more of a criminal than she was, she couldn't see any indication.
Why me? Why nod 'ne o de mo' impordand ones? She asked simply.
Jaris dropped his smirk for a second, thought, then spoke.
Why you? Your the only one who's worth giving a second chance. The rest of your "crew", they are all unforgivable as far as I'm concerned. Most of them have committed far worse crimes than simply smuggling spice, you and I both know that. This isn't a business for kids, and I'm giving you a way out. Take it, and don't look back. I've seen your marks, and spoken with your instructors, your better than this and you know it. So get outta here while you have the chance.
Doneeda was looking firmly at the ground by this point, fascinated by the concrete. She couldn't look the man in the face. He'd hit the nail on the head and he knew it. She was too ashamed to look at him, realizing that he'd done his homework, and he was only here to get her out. More than likely, he knew something she didn't as well. Either way, she wasn't about to find out what it was, her gut was telling her that he knew a lot more than he was saying.
Block 29, building 3284, floor 34, room 3214. Be 'dere a' 10:30 an' 'ou ged all of 'em. Jus' make sure' 'ou brin' a lod o' guys. Dey's somewhad par'noid.
She said to the floor.
Jaris walked over to her and extended his right hand. It took Doneeda a second to recognize the custom. She extended her right hand and shook his. As she pulled away she noticed something in her hand. She looked down at it, a 500 Credit bill. She looked at Jaris.
Pleasure doing business with you. You've got 48 hours to clear off. We'll take care of this mess, the speeder and spice are mine, now go. Get outta here before I change my mind!
Doneeda didn't waste any time, and made for the street as quickly as she could, heading for the nearest public transit station so she could get to the spaceport and get off Corellia.
This is Doneeda Talking
This is Doneeda Thinking , Force users can hear this.
I'm a little rusty, its been awhile. Hope this passes the white glove inspection!
