Post by Apillis on Dec 12, 2012 17:58:16 GMT -5
Name: Shylas
Race: Cathar
Age: 24
Birth place: A small hunting community hamlet deep in the wilds of Dantooine
Allegiance: Dantooine, Dantooine Liberation Army
Status: Recreational Hunter, Survivalist, Terrorist, DLA Scout
Rank: Dantooine Liberation Army Scout -- 2 bars
Height: 5'3"
Weight: 109lbs
Appearance: A lithe and lean little ball of cheetah-like energy is best to describe Shylas. She is cute in her way, with her petite physique, high energy antics, and not uncommonly with a puzzled and/or curious look expressed on her visage. Her amber-gold hazel eyes with feline pupils, they always seem to be ready and alert--some say she has a damn near feral gaze to her. But despite her diminutive height and slim body type, she is an athletic and sturdy little thing; albeit much time spent in the wilds hunting big and small game alike will do that for a girl. Her wildly tossed back hair and fine fur come in varying shades of flaxen with small dark flecks and spots, and she has a little button nose. Her canines are quite visible any time she speaks accompanying her feline lisp.
How the girl dresses varies, ragged plebeian to tattered and ripped dirty clothing commonly worn by modest hunters, though because of the tears and rips at times her clothes fail to do much for her modesty. She is far removed from wealth or even working-class, she grew up out in the fields and woodlands of Dantooine--the boonies--all her life, so the clothes she wears tends to reflect it. Often shabby, torn--often old, off-hand military BDUs, and various hunting gear. Not uncommonly wearing a dirty, ragged, ripped, torn and/or ratty half-shirt or tank top. She has an old and worn out hunting belt she wears snug around her tiny waist, on it are a couple survival pouches, canteen, and two hunting knives, both used for slicing open game--one large blade for big game and naturally a smaller blade for small game.
Her tattooed Dantooine Liberation Army insignia/rank is placed in an interesting spot. It is difficult to say if it was placed there out of her peculiar sense of humor, or because of simply being eccentric. Most tend to think both. But where the tattoo is placed is on her left butt cheek. Which was perhaps for her own amusement when she gets in situations where she has to pull rank, the offender she winds up mooning.
((I take no credit for pic. It's a basic likeness. Look to description above for details. And you're damn right that's Cheetara.))
Personality:
In a word: Sprightly.
It is almost jarring how swiftly she can go from being as silent as a jaguar on the prowl to being a motor-mouth that never seems to shut up. Perhaps it is because of the immense amount of time she spends out in the boonies alone, when she finally finds some sentient contact that she has been burning for, for so long, she becomes overly eager to engage in any form of social activity.
On top of that it seems like the girl lacks an off-switch, as the amount of energy she has is like a cat climbing the curtains and bouncing off the walls. She has so much that when its unfocused she has absolutely no idea what to do with it, and thus winds up a bit frazzled at times and uncertain what to do with herself. Caffeine has even been shunned from her because of it, do to one of her DLA comrades once gave her a cup of coffee... big mistake. The more ignorant think that she is what happens to Cathar when they go feral, and given how much time she spends alone out there in the wild by herself, it is an easy assumption to make.
However, when out in the wilds of Dantooine where she has grown up all her life, she becomes quite different. All of that unfocused energy then becomes focused. It is like a survival mechanism within her that flips, and suddenly she is more like a sly, prowling jaguar keeping her eye out for some prey to pounce, while also keeping a weary eye for her natural enemies.
Hunting is something that has been in her family for a long, long time, and it is one of her greatest passions. Living off of the land, and being out there--hunting down her prey. Any animalistic, wildcat instinct or nature that may linger within a Cathar, in those moments they seem to be awakened in Shylas. It would not be too much to say that the vary animals she hunts and lives amongst out in the wilds has largely shaped her personality, hence her seemingly feral--wild cat disposition going from utterly focused and jaguar huntress out in the wilds and hyperactive and distracted outside of the wilds. Without a doubt it all certainly makes her a manic personality to deal with, both in disposition and psychologically.
Her relationships and interactions are largely based in much the same--somewhat complex yet contradictorily simplistic way, she is blatantly aloof and standoffish during the initial meeting of someone who is a stranger to her, like a cat measuring up an interloper in her domain, until she learns to trust them or simply gets used to them and then she becomes quite friendly and sociable with said individual(s). Even on a sexual level it is a very casual affair, done for recreation or procreation and nothing more in her eyes, though she has never engaged in such acts for the latter reasoning, and only a few times for the former--nevertheless it is as natural an act to engage in like many creatures in the animal kingdom; and whatever taboos, social significance, or cultural meanings are placed by many upon sexuality, means about as much to her as it does to the animals out there in the wilds--essentially... nothing.
However, with the advent of the Sith occupation of Dantooine, it has awakened a new passion within Shylas she had not felt before: Vengeance. What little she had in life... the Sith claimed it all upon their taking over her home--Dantooine, all of Dantooine was home to Shylas because out there in its wilds, anywhere could be her home. Albeit, more than that, something far more precious to her was lost during the Sith invasion, something worth fighting for, something worth dying for: family. Even though it has all been lost to her and there was no getting it back. The memory to Shylas is worth the fight to her. It would also not be too much to say, she does get a... sadistic joy... in hunting, killing, and even terrorizing Sith when the opportunity arises.
Ships/Vehicles: A worn out and beat up RK-100 “Reeks” ((Clicky)), poor thing looks like it has seen a loooot of unforgiving terrain with a driver that knows little about maintenancing the damn thing (or how to properly drive it).
Equipment:
Attributes:
Strength - Average
Agility - Above Average
Intelligence - Below Average
Charisma - Below Average
Combat Training:
Archery - Master
Rifles - Expert
Pistols - Adept
Knife Fighting - Adept
Dirty Fighting - Apprentice
Other Training:
Academia - Unskilled
Wilderness Survival Techniques - Expert
Field Dressing - Expert
Stalking - Expert
Dantooine Flora/Fauna (Knowledge) - Expert
Languages: Galactic Basic (First/Native Language: Catharese) - Adept
Weapon Maintenance/Repair/Jury-rigging - Expert
Hunting Traps - Expert
Hunting/Sniping - Master
Mechanics (Vehicles, Starships, etc) - Novice
Bio:
Back during the Mandalorian Wars, and Cathar was struck by them, many Cathar fled the planet. Shylas' family was one such case. A long line of Cathar hunters, but as they were hunted down viciously on their own homeworld, fearing an end to their line--they fled to Republic territory. It was the wilds of Dantooine they took refuge, and once again made a life for themselves in the planet's woodlands. And there the family had been for centuries since, hiding out amongst Dantooine's wildlife completely off-the-grid.
In a way, their way of life was like that of a tiny hamlet. They would have their young, who would grow and be taught nothing but hunting and surviving out in the wilds. When they came of age, they would leave--and sometimes come back with a mate, and thus another generation would rise within the family. This was all that Shylas has known her entire life. They held no trust in governments and militarism, and equally a lack of trust in the fringe elements out there. They were an isolationist family of survivalists. Seeking to evade the troubles and oppression that governing and societal committees bring.
It was paranoia really, and hyperbolic view points of what a government's purpose and aim is within a community. In the end, their choice was to sever themselves from any form of governing body altogether. Therefore, everything they need to live, they cultivate from the land itself. However, even before coming to Dantooine, this was a mind-frame the family had held since their existence on Cathar. The Mandalorian Wars lead them to distrusting militarism, the Republic's over-stepping (in their eyes) laws and regulations lead them to distrusting governments even more, and the Sith invasion simply inflated their paranoia and dislike of militarism and government as a whole. And that frame of mind and belief structure is all Shylas has known for her entire life.
Their lifestyle and upbringing was in a way primal and native filled with much superstition of spirits and ghosts of the land from family to animals to people alike. Education and intellectual academia while not shunned were simply not present. Knowledge was knowing the land, knowing how to live off of it and give back to it. Ones best skills were knowing how to hunt and forage food, without either--there was no survival. Being able to hunt an animal from big to small game, and shoot it from afar was not simply a sport, but it meant being able to eat. Thus being a crack shot with a gun, blaster, or even a crossbow as Shylas favored was essential. Because not being such could mean--and at times did mean, there was no food on the table for that day, thus if one wanted to eat--had to forage for it out there in the wilds.
By the time she could walk she was being taught how to forage for food by her father, her mother unfortunately passed away shortly after her birth from complications brought by a fever. Modern medicine could have saved her, but out where Shylas was born and raised, there was none. So she and her older sister and two older brothers were left to be raised by their father.
Life was simplistic though harsh, out in the wilds of Dantooine, it is an unforgiving place. But as with all things, she was taught to survive in moderation. First how to forage for food, then the lay of the land--how and where to tread across the land to find what one needed. By the age of eight years old she was being taught how to hunt wildlife and shoot a gun and how not to just set traps but look out for them in turn, especially ones own. It is a pathetic hunter who falls victim to their own trap(s).
By the time she was twelve years old she was a good shot with a rifle, and was even given her father's old hunting rifle, it was her first hunting rifle that was her own. By that stage in her life, she was expected to be able to take care of herself and contribute to the family and little hamlet they lived within out there in the Dantooine woodlands. Albeit, when she was fourteen years old, the old hunting rifle broke down on her, but taught to utilize whatever one can find to fix a problem, Shylas took what she could find around her home and jury-rigged the hunting rifle into being a functional crossbow using parts of an old bowcaster her father took from the corpse of a Wookiee merc he killed years ago. Ever since it has become her signature weapon, and is the weapon she tends to favor using most.
Though, it was her teenage years that she did gain a bit of a rebellious streak. Which was ignoring her father's warnings about hanging around the cities of Dantooine. As curious as a kitten, she did exactly that and often. However, she always returned to the wilds. Much of it because of her upbringing in distrusting such places, but also the city simply moved too quick for her, she often found it unsettling--too much going on for her senses to tune out. It often perplexed her how people dwelling in towns and cities can so easily ignore all that's going on around them and not be simply overwhelmed by it as she often is. Despite her high-energy antics, she enjoys the quiet and the subtleties of the wilds of Dantooine, and it maybe because of her high-energy that so much stimulus that a city has is simply overloads her senses thus becoming overwhelmed.
In the end it merely lead young Shylas often to retreat back to the wilds and to the comfort of her family. The big city and the masses of people were nothing more than curiosities to an otherwise unsocialized individual. Her understanding of living was simple and could even be considered a bit primal or even a bit primitive, while the people of villages, towns, and cities in her eyes lead lives of excess and abundance. Their views and concepts of morality were even much different from her own, her moral understanding was that of nature's law--survival of the fittest and cleverest, failing to meet the standard beset by the flora and fauna of the wilds was met with the severe consequences of sickness, starvation, or any number of indifferent deaths Mother Nature could deal out to the ignorant and inept.
Nature's law was far more trustworthy and simplistic than any law created by "man".
The invasion of the Sith only made Shylas feel more resolute in her convictions. The methods of "man" simply could not be trusted, governing bodies were constructs of enslavement of masses, and military apparati are created for only but one purpose--to conquer under the guise of "protecting". All create themselves within a deceptive regime to fool people into giving themselves over to it for the sake of the fallacy and the lie of believing to be more "secure". All the while unwittingly just making themselves another cog of the machine that is the slave state. But Shylas in a way is a creature of the wilds, Nature's law is not deceptive, it is honest and clear.
The Sith's invasion turned to ash much of what she loved, her family and their homestead in the far outskirts of a Dantooine farming town was burned to the ground with her family having been slaughtered by the Sith when they refused to give up their land to them. Shylas was on a sort of walkabout--traversing the lands to have some time on her own--just her and the land to live off of; but what she returned to were the charred remains of her family and their homestead burnt to ashes, like several others in that little collective of survivalists in the area.
When nature has been harmed greatly by the over-indulgence of sentient beings, it often lashes out in one way or another. Either by the land becoming uninhabitable by its death, or by having a violent reaction in an attempt to purge what is infecting it and to set itself right. Shylas being a creature driven by nature in a sense, had her own reaction, and if it were to be comparable to nature itself, it would be the latter of the two examples of nature's reaction to what is harming it. The young Cathar woman reacted with a terrible violence. She is first and foremost a hunter, and so that is precisely what she did... she hunted.
In the weeks and months following the Sith's destruction of her family homestead and their occupation of Dantooine, Shylas took to the wilds and hunted whatever Sith she could find wandering in her "home"--the wilds themselves. An expert trapper, she constructed deadly traps, and just like snipers--she knew how to lay and wait for her prey to claim their lives with either a rifle or her trademark crossbow. She proved particularly good at eliminating small Sith recon units whom were either in pairs or a group of three or five at most, but also proved adapt at hunting Sith snipers.
She has been estimated to have killed thus far over one-hundred thirty odd Sith soldiers, most of which recon units but many were snipers and their spotters. Were she military, she could easily be considered one of the Republic's most skilled sniper scouts. However, the reality is she is just an exceedingly talented hunter, but given her life style, she has to be if she is to simply survive and have something to eat for the night. It never has been a mystery when Shylas has killed a target or which targets were hers, for she treats them in the same manner as she would any game. She essentially field dresses them in the same way she would a kath hound or any one of the other wild game out there to fall under her cross hairs, and after field dressing them, she strings them up by their feet in trees, treating them just as any hunter would their game to air out to later treat their meat. Many think Shylas eats their corpses, seeing them as game after all; but that has never been confirmed, even when questioned about it Shylas neither confirms or denies it, and rather responds with a puzzled gaze akin to that of a confused kitten. Such antics have disturbed several of her Dantooine Liberation Army peers. And the fact that she decapitates the corpses to claim their skulls, skinning, washing and polishing them as her prized trophies does not help to alleviate her peers disposition toward her. Some of her little caches of collected skulls have been found by Sith recon units, albeit never with Shylas around, she seems to merely leave them in various places in much the same way a cat stashes their prized catches with little to no other reasoning but for some place to put them.
While Shylas tends to prefer to keep away from "civilized" society, when amongst friends and loved ones she is something of a social butterfly. When not in the wilds it is difficult for her to know where to channel her energy, or even how to regulate it, and it all winds up being channeled into being chatty--causing her to be like a hyperactive cat bouncing off the walls uncertain what to do with herself. But truly the only thing that leads her back into "civilized" society is the Dantooine Liberation Army. Her seeking them out and joining them was merely out of practicality, while she may be exceptionally good at hunting game (which includes Sith in her eyes), she understands that up against a military of the Sith's power, she cannot do it alone and hope to survive. A significant part of her successes in eliminating Sith recon units and snipers is via being supported by the Dantooine Liberation Army, and being able to utilize their safe-havens when the need arises.
There are few who know the wilds of Dantooine as well as Shylas does, which made her the obvious choice for being part of DLA's scout teams, whom tend to be the peers of hers she socializes with most naturally. However, when the opportunity arises she had proved more than willing to engage in social situations with others within the DLA, but--as mentioned before some are not so eager to socialize with her as she is with them do to her... methods... when hunting Sith. Her feral hyperactivity can tend to put some off as well, while there are some who may find it endearing or just simply tolerate it. Therefore how she is generally viewed within the Dantooine Liberation Army tends to vary between members.
Albeit, it is not just her skill that locks her position within Dantooine Liberation Army, but also because she is fiercely loyal to them. For truthfully, they are the only family and friends she has left, the Sith killed her biological family and childhood friends during their invasion of Dantooine. Thus she only has the Dantooine Liberation Army to alleviate her loneliness, and having been welcomed into its ranks and furthermore being befriended by some, that is something she guards jealously and treasures it dearly--valuing it more than anything else. She maybe simple-minded, and think in a very uncomplicated ways with little to no nuance, but let it never be said she does not understand the deeper insights and connotations of what it means to love those close to her heart.
And that has been Shylas' life since, typically out in the wilds scouting for Sith units trying to find a foothold within them, and eliminating their recon and sniper units when she can track and hunt them down to claim yet another trophy. All of which not to simply attempt to erode the Sith to end their occupation of Dantooine, but to also lend aid to the only family she has left--the Dantooine Liberation Army.
RP Sample:
The Sith unit heard the screams of their comrade echoing within the small forested valley of the very wilds of Dantooine as they scanned the area searching for him. But when screams became involuntary gurgles and wet coughs dying down into silence. It was clear what had happened, there were only six to the small recon unit, but it was one plus more than the maximum of what was usually sent out there. Their reconnoitering lead them to believe there was a small Dantooine Liberation Army cache or safe-house. But once they got deep into the territory. A comrade vanished, and ever since they had only been hearing his crying out. They knew what it was, psychological torture--meant to intimidate them, put fear in them. However, they had been trained to deal with the enemy attempting such tactics, but there was something a little off in this instance.
They followed the direction in which the initial echoes of the screams seemed to originate. It was there they found a small camp--at a brief first glance one would think it was just a hunter's camp with game strung up and filleted with prized trophy kills propped up within the camp. It was only a trice when they saw the gutted corpse of their comrade naked and strung up by a large meat hook skewered through his ankles. He may have been human but it looked as though someone preformed a fielding dressing on him as if he were a wild boar, and left his entrails as a pile on the ground under his swaying lifeless body in the air as he was dangled off of a thick tree branch several feet off of the forest floor. It was as if he was prepped to be butchered like animal for his meat.
It was then they looked at the trophies and bones around them, they were nearly all human, stepping a little deeper into the camp--there was a pile of clothes, but not just of their comrade's uniform, it was a pile of many--maybe twenty--perhaps even thirty Sith uniforms. The bones and trophies, some were game of the wilds of Dantooine, but quite a few more were those of human or at least near-human sentient beings.
The team-lead took another couple steps, a twig snapped under his foot. The swift downward swing of a branch came down from above smacking him in the back before he even realized what was happening. Something stabbed him through the back--he felt it--his body tense, he could not even move from where he stood. He looked down to see two foot long wooden stake sticking out of his chest impaling him through the back before all faded to darkness.
The Sith recon soldier beside him stumbled backward the second it happened, before understanding what was going on he found himself falling down a seven foot deep pitfall. It was one of his comrades that looked down it to see him lying at the pitfall's floor impaled by numerous three foot long stakes. Unsurprisingly he did not survive that fall.
Three remaining of the Sith recon unit, they begun retreating from the area. A loud crack like thunder echoed throughout the small valley. One of the three suddenly fell flat on his face lifeless, his two remaining teammates looked behind themselves only to see him dead face down in the dirt, shot through the back by a large caliber bullet. Thirty seconds later similar sound deafeningly rang out--another soldier fell just like the last, but this time the shot sounded much closer than before.
A minute gone past, the last remaining Sith recon soldier continuously running through the wild forest. Until an unbearable pain shot through his left leg, he crashed heavy upon the ground with a clumsy tumble and a roll. Clenching at his thigh it was then he saw an arrow running right through it. Screaming in pain as he writhed around on the ground in the mud and his own blood. Just scarcely over his own screams he could hear someone casually approaching him while snickering, their lisp evident in it.
Standing before him only a second later was Shylas with a wide feline grin, her signature crossbow in her hands, and her stolen Sith sniper rifle slung across her back, "Th'eppin' in mah' huntin' groun'th ain't all that th'mart, Th'ithy."
"D-Did you just call me a 'sissy', you frakkin' schutta?!", he snarled in protest.
She meant to say 'sithy', but her terrible lisp made it sound as though she something else entirely to him. Confused she canted her head, she did not much care for how mouthy he was getting, especially give his current situation. So reloading an arrow with her crossbow she shot his other leg. Roaring in pain, she told him with an irritated scolding tone, "Don't get mou'thy with me, th'onny."
"Mousy?! Thorny?! The frak are you talking about, you psycho schutta?!", he struggled to understand her words while in serious pain. She meant to say 'mouthy' and 'sonny', but again--her terrible lisp made discerning what she says even at the best of times somewhat difficult.
Shylas' eyes narrowed as she loaded another arrow to her crossbow and shot him again this time in his right arm. As he screamed in pain, she repeated herself, "I th'ed don't get mou'thy with me."
"What the frak are you talking about with this 'mousy' crap?!", he roared as writhed in his agony as three arrows were plugged into him, two of which at point blank range, "Just frakkin' kill me already!", he demanded of her wanting it all to just finally end than endure anymore of this torture.
But Shylas simply snickered with her little feline lisp in reaction, "I ain't gonna kill yah'... Not yet anyhow... I'm gonna be taking you ta' Duh'th."
Looking at Shylas in fear, pain, and confusion--the latter do to not quite understanding what she she just said leading him to question, "Did you just say you're going to be talking me to death?", Shylas looked severely unamused in reaction as she loaded another arrow onto her crossbow, "No-no-no-no! Please, wait--!", but Shylas did not listen to his pleas and shot him once again in his other arm. Leading yet again to his crying out in torturous pain.
"It'th be'th if yah' ju'th th'ut up now.", Shylas remarked a bit miffed by this point, and slung her her crossbow across her back beside her sniper rifle, and then from a pouch on her hunting belt, she took out a line commonly used for tying up game. But only before drawing out her large hunting knife for human-sized or large game. As she moved closer to him, his eyes went wider and wider as he tried to wiggle on the ground away from her, despite knowing the reality being the utter futility of the act was only a momentary delay from whatever Shylas may have in store for him...
Race: Cathar
Age: 24
Birth place: A small hunting community hamlet deep in the wilds of Dantooine
Allegiance: Dantooine, Dantooine Liberation Army
Status: Recreational Hunter, Survivalist, Terrorist, DLA Scout
Rank: Dantooine Liberation Army Scout -- 2 bars
Height: 5'3"
Weight: 109lbs
Appearance: A lithe and lean little ball of cheetah-like energy is best to describe Shylas. She is cute in her way, with her petite physique, high energy antics, and not uncommonly with a puzzled and/or curious look expressed on her visage. Her amber-gold hazel eyes with feline pupils, they always seem to be ready and alert--some say she has a damn near feral gaze to her. But despite her diminutive height and slim body type, she is an athletic and sturdy little thing; albeit much time spent in the wilds hunting big and small game alike will do that for a girl. Her wildly tossed back hair and fine fur come in varying shades of flaxen with small dark flecks and spots, and she has a little button nose. Her canines are quite visible any time she speaks accompanying her feline lisp.
How the girl dresses varies, ragged plebeian to tattered and ripped dirty clothing commonly worn by modest hunters, though because of the tears and rips at times her clothes fail to do much for her modesty. She is far removed from wealth or even working-class, she grew up out in the fields and woodlands of Dantooine--the boonies--all her life, so the clothes she wears tends to reflect it. Often shabby, torn--often old, off-hand military BDUs, and various hunting gear. Not uncommonly wearing a dirty, ragged, ripped, torn and/or ratty half-shirt or tank top. She has an old and worn out hunting belt she wears snug around her tiny waist, on it are a couple survival pouches, canteen, and two hunting knives, both used for slicing open game--one large blade for big game and naturally a smaller blade for small game.
Her tattooed Dantooine Liberation Army insignia/rank is placed in an interesting spot. It is difficult to say if it was placed there out of her peculiar sense of humor, or because of simply being eccentric. Most tend to think both. But where the tattoo is placed is on her left butt cheek. Which was perhaps for her own amusement when she gets in situations where she has to pull rank, the offender she winds up mooning.
((I take no credit for pic. It's a basic likeness. Look to description above for details. And you're damn right that's Cheetara.))
Personality:
In a word: Sprightly.
It is almost jarring how swiftly she can go from being as silent as a jaguar on the prowl to being a motor-mouth that never seems to shut up. Perhaps it is because of the immense amount of time she spends out in the boonies alone, when she finally finds some sentient contact that she has been burning for, for so long, she becomes overly eager to engage in any form of social activity.
On top of that it seems like the girl lacks an off-switch, as the amount of energy she has is like a cat climbing the curtains and bouncing off the walls. She has so much that when its unfocused she has absolutely no idea what to do with it, and thus winds up a bit frazzled at times and uncertain what to do with herself. Caffeine has even been shunned from her because of it, do to one of her DLA comrades once gave her a cup of coffee... big mistake. The more ignorant think that she is what happens to Cathar when they go feral, and given how much time she spends alone out there in the wild by herself, it is an easy assumption to make.
However, when out in the wilds of Dantooine where she has grown up all her life, she becomes quite different. All of that unfocused energy then becomes focused. It is like a survival mechanism within her that flips, and suddenly she is more like a sly, prowling jaguar keeping her eye out for some prey to pounce, while also keeping a weary eye for her natural enemies.
Hunting is something that has been in her family for a long, long time, and it is one of her greatest passions. Living off of the land, and being out there--hunting down her prey. Any animalistic, wildcat instinct or nature that may linger within a Cathar, in those moments they seem to be awakened in Shylas. It would not be too much to say that the vary animals she hunts and lives amongst out in the wilds has largely shaped her personality, hence her seemingly feral--wild cat disposition going from utterly focused and jaguar huntress out in the wilds and hyperactive and distracted outside of the wilds. Without a doubt it all certainly makes her a manic personality to deal with, both in disposition and psychologically.
Her relationships and interactions are largely based in much the same--somewhat complex yet contradictorily simplistic way, she is blatantly aloof and standoffish during the initial meeting of someone who is a stranger to her, like a cat measuring up an interloper in her domain, until she learns to trust them or simply gets used to them and then she becomes quite friendly and sociable with said individual(s). Even on a sexual level it is a very casual affair, done for recreation or procreation and nothing more in her eyes, though she has never engaged in such acts for the latter reasoning, and only a few times for the former--nevertheless it is as natural an act to engage in like many creatures in the animal kingdom; and whatever taboos, social significance, or cultural meanings are placed by many upon sexuality, means about as much to her as it does to the animals out there in the wilds--essentially... nothing.
However, with the advent of the Sith occupation of Dantooine, it has awakened a new passion within Shylas she had not felt before: Vengeance. What little she had in life... the Sith claimed it all upon their taking over her home--Dantooine, all of Dantooine was home to Shylas because out there in its wilds, anywhere could be her home. Albeit, more than that, something far more precious to her was lost during the Sith invasion, something worth fighting for, something worth dying for: family. Even though it has all been lost to her and there was no getting it back. The memory to Shylas is worth the fight to her. It would also not be too much to say, she does get a... sadistic joy... in hunting, killing, and even terrorizing Sith when the opportunity arises.
Ships/Vehicles: A worn out and beat up RK-100 “Reeks” ((Clicky)), poor thing looks like it has seen a loooot of unforgiving terrain with a driver that knows little about maintenancing the damn thing (or how to properly drive it).
Equipment:
- Shylas' Crossbow
- Type-95
- SR-45II
- Hunting/Hiking Gear/Provisions
- Hunting Knives x2
Attributes:
Strength - Average
Agility - Above Average
Intelligence - Below Average
Charisma - Below Average
Combat Training:
Archery - Master
Rifles - Expert
Pistols - Adept
Knife Fighting - Adept
Dirty Fighting - Apprentice
Other Training:
Academia - Unskilled
Wilderness Survival Techniques - Expert
Field Dressing - Expert
Stalking - Expert
Dantooine Flora/Fauna (Knowledge) - Expert
Languages: Galactic Basic (First/Native Language: Catharese) - Adept
Weapon Maintenance/Repair/Jury-rigging - Expert
Hunting Traps - Expert
Hunting/Sniping - Master
Mechanics (Vehicles, Starships, etc) - Novice
Bio:
Back during the Mandalorian Wars, and Cathar was struck by them, many Cathar fled the planet. Shylas' family was one such case. A long line of Cathar hunters, but as they were hunted down viciously on their own homeworld, fearing an end to their line--they fled to Republic territory. It was the wilds of Dantooine they took refuge, and once again made a life for themselves in the planet's woodlands. And there the family had been for centuries since, hiding out amongst Dantooine's wildlife completely off-the-grid.
In a way, their way of life was like that of a tiny hamlet. They would have their young, who would grow and be taught nothing but hunting and surviving out in the wilds. When they came of age, they would leave--and sometimes come back with a mate, and thus another generation would rise within the family. This was all that Shylas has known her entire life. They held no trust in governments and militarism, and equally a lack of trust in the fringe elements out there. They were an isolationist family of survivalists. Seeking to evade the troubles and oppression that governing and societal committees bring.
It was paranoia really, and hyperbolic view points of what a government's purpose and aim is within a community. In the end, their choice was to sever themselves from any form of governing body altogether. Therefore, everything they need to live, they cultivate from the land itself. However, even before coming to Dantooine, this was a mind-frame the family had held since their existence on Cathar. The Mandalorian Wars lead them to distrusting militarism, the Republic's over-stepping (in their eyes) laws and regulations lead them to distrusting governments even more, and the Sith invasion simply inflated their paranoia and dislike of militarism and government as a whole. And that frame of mind and belief structure is all Shylas has known for her entire life.
Their lifestyle and upbringing was in a way primal and native filled with much superstition of spirits and ghosts of the land from family to animals to people alike. Education and intellectual academia while not shunned were simply not present. Knowledge was knowing the land, knowing how to live off of it and give back to it. Ones best skills were knowing how to hunt and forage food, without either--there was no survival. Being able to hunt an animal from big to small game, and shoot it from afar was not simply a sport, but it meant being able to eat. Thus being a crack shot with a gun, blaster, or even a crossbow as Shylas favored was essential. Because not being such could mean--and at times did mean, there was no food on the table for that day, thus if one wanted to eat--had to forage for it out there in the wilds.
By the time she could walk she was being taught how to forage for food by her father, her mother unfortunately passed away shortly after her birth from complications brought by a fever. Modern medicine could have saved her, but out where Shylas was born and raised, there was none. So she and her older sister and two older brothers were left to be raised by their father.
Life was simplistic though harsh, out in the wilds of Dantooine, it is an unforgiving place. But as with all things, she was taught to survive in moderation. First how to forage for food, then the lay of the land--how and where to tread across the land to find what one needed. By the age of eight years old she was being taught how to hunt wildlife and shoot a gun and how not to just set traps but look out for them in turn, especially ones own. It is a pathetic hunter who falls victim to their own trap(s).
By the time she was twelve years old she was a good shot with a rifle, and was even given her father's old hunting rifle, it was her first hunting rifle that was her own. By that stage in her life, she was expected to be able to take care of herself and contribute to the family and little hamlet they lived within out there in the Dantooine woodlands. Albeit, when she was fourteen years old, the old hunting rifle broke down on her, but taught to utilize whatever one can find to fix a problem, Shylas took what she could find around her home and jury-rigged the hunting rifle into being a functional crossbow using parts of an old bowcaster her father took from the corpse of a Wookiee merc he killed years ago. Ever since it has become her signature weapon, and is the weapon she tends to favor using most.
Though, it was her teenage years that she did gain a bit of a rebellious streak. Which was ignoring her father's warnings about hanging around the cities of Dantooine. As curious as a kitten, she did exactly that and often. However, she always returned to the wilds. Much of it because of her upbringing in distrusting such places, but also the city simply moved too quick for her, she often found it unsettling--too much going on for her senses to tune out. It often perplexed her how people dwelling in towns and cities can so easily ignore all that's going on around them and not be simply overwhelmed by it as she often is. Despite her high-energy antics, she enjoys the quiet and the subtleties of the wilds of Dantooine, and it maybe because of her high-energy that so much stimulus that a city has is simply overloads her senses thus becoming overwhelmed.
In the end it merely lead young Shylas often to retreat back to the wilds and to the comfort of her family. The big city and the masses of people were nothing more than curiosities to an otherwise unsocialized individual. Her understanding of living was simple and could even be considered a bit primal or even a bit primitive, while the people of villages, towns, and cities in her eyes lead lives of excess and abundance. Their views and concepts of morality were even much different from her own, her moral understanding was that of nature's law--survival of the fittest and cleverest, failing to meet the standard beset by the flora and fauna of the wilds was met with the severe consequences of sickness, starvation, or any number of indifferent deaths Mother Nature could deal out to the ignorant and inept.
Nature's law was far more trustworthy and simplistic than any law created by "man".
The invasion of the Sith only made Shylas feel more resolute in her convictions. The methods of "man" simply could not be trusted, governing bodies were constructs of enslavement of masses, and military apparati are created for only but one purpose--to conquer under the guise of "protecting". All create themselves within a deceptive regime to fool people into giving themselves over to it for the sake of the fallacy and the lie of believing to be more "secure". All the while unwittingly just making themselves another cog of the machine that is the slave state. But Shylas in a way is a creature of the wilds, Nature's law is not deceptive, it is honest and clear.
The Sith's invasion turned to ash much of what she loved, her family and their homestead in the far outskirts of a Dantooine farming town was burned to the ground with her family having been slaughtered by the Sith when they refused to give up their land to them. Shylas was on a sort of walkabout--traversing the lands to have some time on her own--just her and the land to live off of; but what she returned to were the charred remains of her family and their homestead burnt to ashes, like several others in that little collective of survivalists in the area.
When nature has been harmed greatly by the over-indulgence of sentient beings, it often lashes out in one way or another. Either by the land becoming uninhabitable by its death, or by having a violent reaction in an attempt to purge what is infecting it and to set itself right. Shylas being a creature driven by nature in a sense, had her own reaction, and if it were to be comparable to nature itself, it would be the latter of the two examples of nature's reaction to what is harming it. The young Cathar woman reacted with a terrible violence. She is first and foremost a hunter, and so that is precisely what she did... she hunted.
In the weeks and months following the Sith's destruction of her family homestead and their occupation of Dantooine, Shylas took to the wilds and hunted whatever Sith she could find wandering in her "home"--the wilds themselves. An expert trapper, she constructed deadly traps, and just like snipers--she knew how to lay and wait for her prey to claim their lives with either a rifle or her trademark crossbow. She proved particularly good at eliminating small Sith recon units whom were either in pairs or a group of three or five at most, but also proved adapt at hunting Sith snipers.
She has been estimated to have killed thus far over one-hundred thirty odd Sith soldiers, most of which recon units but many were snipers and their spotters. Were she military, she could easily be considered one of the Republic's most skilled sniper scouts. However, the reality is she is just an exceedingly talented hunter, but given her life style, she has to be if she is to simply survive and have something to eat for the night. It never has been a mystery when Shylas has killed a target or which targets were hers, for she treats them in the same manner as she would any game. She essentially field dresses them in the same way she would a kath hound or any one of the other wild game out there to fall under her cross hairs, and after field dressing them, she strings them up by their feet in trees, treating them just as any hunter would their game to air out to later treat their meat. Many think Shylas eats their corpses, seeing them as game after all; but that has never been confirmed, even when questioned about it Shylas neither confirms or denies it, and rather responds with a puzzled gaze akin to that of a confused kitten. Such antics have disturbed several of her Dantooine Liberation Army peers. And the fact that she decapitates the corpses to claim their skulls, skinning, washing and polishing them as her prized trophies does not help to alleviate her peers disposition toward her. Some of her little caches of collected skulls have been found by Sith recon units, albeit never with Shylas around, she seems to merely leave them in various places in much the same way a cat stashes their prized catches with little to no other reasoning but for some place to put them.
While Shylas tends to prefer to keep away from "civilized" society, when amongst friends and loved ones she is something of a social butterfly. When not in the wilds it is difficult for her to know where to channel her energy, or even how to regulate it, and it all winds up being channeled into being chatty--causing her to be like a hyperactive cat bouncing off the walls uncertain what to do with herself. But truly the only thing that leads her back into "civilized" society is the Dantooine Liberation Army. Her seeking them out and joining them was merely out of practicality, while she may be exceptionally good at hunting game (which includes Sith in her eyes), she understands that up against a military of the Sith's power, she cannot do it alone and hope to survive. A significant part of her successes in eliminating Sith recon units and snipers is via being supported by the Dantooine Liberation Army, and being able to utilize their safe-havens when the need arises.
There are few who know the wilds of Dantooine as well as Shylas does, which made her the obvious choice for being part of DLA's scout teams, whom tend to be the peers of hers she socializes with most naturally. However, when the opportunity arises she had proved more than willing to engage in social situations with others within the DLA, but--as mentioned before some are not so eager to socialize with her as she is with them do to her... methods... when hunting Sith. Her feral hyperactivity can tend to put some off as well, while there are some who may find it endearing or just simply tolerate it. Therefore how she is generally viewed within the Dantooine Liberation Army tends to vary between members.
Albeit, it is not just her skill that locks her position within Dantooine Liberation Army, but also because she is fiercely loyal to them. For truthfully, they are the only family and friends she has left, the Sith killed her biological family and childhood friends during their invasion of Dantooine. Thus she only has the Dantooine Liberation Army to alleviate her loneliness, and having been welcomed into its ranks and furthermore being befriended by some, that is something she guards jealously and treasures it dearly--valuing it more than anything else. She maybe simple-minded, and think in a very uncomplicated ways with little to no nuance, but let it never be said she does not understand the deeper insights and connotations of what it means to love those close to her heart.
And that has been Shylas' life since, typically out in the wilds scouting for Sith units trying to find a foothold within them, and eliminating their recon and sniper units when she can track and hunt them down to claim yet another trophy. All of which not to simply attempt to erode the Sith to end their occupation of Dantooine, but to also lend aid to the only family she has left--the Dantooine Liberation Army.
RP Sample:
The Sith unit heard the screams of their comrade echoing within the small forested valley of the very wilds of Dantooine as they scanned the area searching for him. But when screams became involuntary gurgles and wet coughs dying down into silence. It was clear what had happened, there were only six to the small recon unit, but it was one plus more than the maximum of what was usually sent out there. Their reconnoitering lead them to believe there was a small Dantooine Liberation Army cache or safe-house. But once they got deep into the territory. A comrade vanished, and ever since they had only been hearing his crying out. They knew what it was, psychological torture--meant to intimidate them, put fear in them. However, they had been trained to deal with the enemy attempting such tactics, but there was something a little off in this instance.
They followed the direction in which the initial echoes of the screams seemed to originate. It was there they found a small camp--at a brief first glance one would think it was just a hunter's camp with game strung up and filleted with prized trophy kills propped up within the camp. It was only a trice when they saw the gutted corpse of their comrade naked and strung up by a large meat hook skewered through his ankles. He may have been human but it looked as though someone preformed a fielding dressing on him as if he were a wild boar, and left his entrails as a pile on the ground under his swaying lifeless body in the air as he was dangled off of a thick tree branch several feet off of the forest floor. It was as if he was prepped to be butchered like animal for his meat.
It was then they looked at the trophies and bones around them, they were nearly all human, stepping a little deeper into the camp--there was a pile of clothes, but not just of their comrade's uniform, it was a pile of many--maybe twenty--perhaps even thirty Sith uniforms. The bones and trophies, some were game of the wilds of Dantooine, but quite a few more were those of human or at least near-human sentient beings.
The team-lead took another couple steps, a twig snapped under his foot. The swift downward swing of a branch came down from above smacking him in the back before he even realized what was happening. Something stabbed him through the back--he felt it--his body tense, he could not even move from where he stood. He looked down to see two foot long wooden stake sticking out of his chest impaling him through the back before all faded to darkness.
The Sith recon soldier beside him stumbled backward the second it happened, before understanding what was going on he found himself falling down a seven foot deep pitfall. It was one of his comrades that looked down it to see him lying at the pitfall's floor impaled by numerous three foot long stakes. Unsurprisingly he did not survive that fall.
Three remaining of the Sith recon unit, they begun retreating from the area. A loud crack like thunder echoed throughout the small valley. One of the three suddenly fell flat on his face lifeless, his two remaining teammates looked behind themselves only to see him dead face down in the dirt, shot through the back by a large caliber bullet. Thirty seconds later similar sound deafeningly rang out--another soldier fell just like the last, but this time the shot sounded much closer than before.
A minute gone past, the last remaining Sith recon soldier continuously running through the wild forest. Until an unbearable pain shot through his left leg, he crashed heavy upon the ground with a clumsy tumble and a roll. Clenching at his thigh it was then he saw an arrow running right through it. Screaming in pain as he writhed around on the ground in the mud and his own blood. Just scarcely over his own screams he could hear someone casually approaching him while snickering, their lisp evident in it.
Standing before him only a second later was Shylas with a wide feline grin, her signature crossbow in her hands, and her stolen Sith sniper rifle slung across her back, "Th'eppin' in mah' huntin' groun'th ain't all that th'mart, Th'ithy."
"D-Did you just call me a 'sissy', you frakkin' schutta?!", he snarled in protest.
She meant to say 'sithy', but her terrible lisp made it sound as though she something else entirely to him. Confused she canted her head, she did not much care for how mouthy he was getting, especially give his current situation. So reloading an arrow with her crossbow she shot his other leg. Roaring in pain, she told him with an irritated scolding tone, "Don't get mou'thy with me, th'onny."
"Mousy?! Thorny?! The frak are you talking about, you psycho schutta?!", he struggled to understand her words while in serious pain. She meant to say 'mouthy' and 'sonny', but again--her terrible lisp made discerning what she says even at the best of times somewhat difficult.
Shylas' eyes narrowed as she loaded another arrow to her crossbow and shot him again this time in his right arm. As he screamed in pain, she repeated herself, "I th'ed don't get mou'thy with me."
"What the frak are you talking about with this 'mousy' crap?!", he roared as writhed in his agony as three arrows were plugged into him, two of which at point blank range, "Just frakkin' kill me already!", he demanded of her wanting it all to just finally end than endure anymore of this torture.
But Shylas simply snickered with her little feline lisp in reaction, "I ain't gonna kill yah'... Not yet anyhow... I'm gonna be taking you ta' Duh'th."
Looking at Shylas in fear, pain, and confusion--the latter do to not quite understanding what she she just said leading him to question, "Did you just say you're going to be talking me to death?", Shylas looked severely unamused in reaction as she loaded another arrow onto her crossbow, "No-no-no-no! Please, wait--!", but Shylas did not listen to his pleas and shot him once again in his other arm. Leading yet again to his crying out in torturous pain.
"It'th be'th if yah' ju'th th'ut up now.", Shylas remarked a bit miffed by this point, and slung her her crossbow across her back beside her sniper rifle, and then from a pouch on her hunting belt, she took out a line commonly used for tying up game. But only before drawing out her large hunting knife for human-sized or large game. As she moved closer to him, his eyes went wider and wider as he tried to wiggle on the ground away from her, despite knowing the reality being the utter futility of the act was only a momentary delay from whatever Shylas may have in store for him...
Just yell at me when she's ready for the glance over to be moved back over to accepted
