Post by Nathaira on Jun 16, 2013 12:18:14 GMT -5
Name: Naná
Race: Human
Age: 15
Height: 5' 3''
Weight: 110 lb
Appearance: Nana is of a small yet athletic looking frame. She has a long raven colored mane which she fashions in several ways depending on the situation, from a rather pragmatic ponytail to the not so much flowing long straight hair. When she knows that there is going to be "business", she always covers the lower half of her face with a mask or cloth piece that may suffice for the same purpose. When out of "business" she is seen mostly wearing casual clothes, always including a scarf type of cloth piece should she unexpectedly run into something. This combined with her youthful visage make for a rather impersonation of a regular innocent and harmless girl of her age. Thus she betrays any assumptions made by someone who may not know just how she actually is.
Her rather soft and pale looking appearance suits the swiftness and grace of movements she conducts herself in, giving her an air of frailness that deeply contrasts with the more blunt and passionate attitude she displays whenever she is being outwardly violent. Up to this point she has favored dual blaster pistols as weapon of choice, which she carries holstered on the back of her waist.
Personality: The first impression she gives is one of a foul-mouthed 'tough' chick, she is of a violent and (at times) psychopathic nature. However her strength and tough charade comes from emotional instability, offspring of a horrible past and messed up childhood. With a very volatile and susceptible personality, prone to sudden violent outbursts or blunt and reckless action at apparently random times. Anything that resembles her past, making her think of those past events, tends to trigger such behavior and drags her into an endless spiral of more violent and darker attitude and deeds, much like a twisted self defense mechanism.
Given her upbringing to this point, Naná is not only greedy but pursues and values self betterment. She has little respect for traditions and regular moral conventions, not for idealistic reasons but for a mere matter of survival. Whenever there is the odd opportunity in which she isn't in one of her violent moods, she can behave in quite acceptable standards, either been somewhat critic with things that itch her about her surroundings, being plain lazy or even cheerful, always in the rare occasion she has a good reason to be so.
Oddly enough for someone so violently natured, Naná is not prone to hold grudges, most times letting them go in the long run. Honoring her volatile nature and even being able to tag in and work with them without much trouble. However, due that very same nature, this is only applicable to those who managed to survive her initial violent outburst and reached that point. Prone to anger as she is, Naná has a hard time forging lasting friendships. Most of them having a hard time enduring or surviving the long (and crowded with violent episodes that threaten their lives) path between being an acquaintance, an associate, a 'partner' and lastly a friend. But, was one to reach the end of the road, she proves to be loyal reliable and somewhat 'caring' ally.
Birth place: Lianna City's Lower Class Suburbs.
Faction: Sith
Rank: Initiate
Previous Faction: Civilian/Grey Jedi
Previous Rank: Ganger
Lightsaber: -
Color: -
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho 2
Makashi -
Soresu -
Ataru -
Shien / Djem So -
>>Sub-form Backhanded -
Niman -
>>Sub-form Jar-kai, or Dual Wield -
Juyo -
Double Bladed Combat -
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telekinetic: 2
Telepathic: -
Body: 3
Sense: -
Protection: -
Healing: 1
Destruction: -
Specialized Skills: -
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 4
Intelligence: 5
Speed: 5
Leadership: 2
Unarmed: 3
Melee Weapons: 1
Ranged Weapons: 4
Bio: A nameless orphan for all she knows, maybe she was abducted or her parents died for some reason, fact of the matter is she is not able to recall them. For all Naná cares her parents was an orphanage, which in turn proved to be a mixed experience. Being just another one among many, and in a environment in which everyone was out for their own, the place didn't really drench them with any 'family life' feeling. Some of the workers were truly devoted to the orphanage's purpose, caring for the kids and trying to ensure their basic needs were covered. But most (and casually enough the ones in charge) just used it as a cover for a source of cheap working force and fresh meat for slavers. This situation, given the turmoiled times she was 'lucky enough' to live, was not rare even in a relatively settled and peaceful world as Lianna. The suburbs were a reliable source for more children, offspring of the dregs and very low income workers of the planet's industry.
With no shortage in their flow, there was nothing really keeping the wards from handling the 'stock' as they pleased. Maybe out of pure sadism, maybe just to bend their will or as a mean to keep them in line... They 'dispensed' beatings, forgot to do so with a day's meal every now and then and made the kids endure an humiliation after another. Whatever the reason was, by the time they reached an age to work, or as they officially claimed, find a foster family, most had their will broken and were smuggled off planet to different 'working' destinations, never to be heard of again. These activities were unknown for most, a mixture of secretive measures from those involved, a general lack of care for the fate of those wretched unknown orphans and the fact that most of the 'mysterious' profits from these activities remained at Lianna. After (like others) enduring some years of abuse but the shadier individuals running the orphanage and their peers, she broke away. Choosing the risk of abuse, starvation and death over submission to those very same things, Naná became a street urchin at the age of seven. In her beginnings, she led a rather miserable life of begging and when there was a good chance, stealing to earn enough to feed herself.
Luckily enough, the would be knave only led such road to future disaster for so long. Not a year had passed, she crossed ways with an individual who only identified himself as Horla. She had tried to steal from him and had been, 'surprisingly' enough, caught red handed. The young man, sensing the room for improvement beyond the boundaries 'regular' expectations she had, took the kid under his wing, not only introducing her to his and one of the petty gangs that crawled the darker areas of Lianna with an air of self importance. But also to some tricks and techniques that from her ignorance she understood as magical, moving small objects out of some strange sorcery than she too was able to emulate or empowering herself to make seemly impossible jumps as well as a 'seemingly useless' combat style (which out of respect and gratitude, she tolerated to learn, even with its lack of practical application) were only a few of the tricks he (with a great deal of patience) started to teach her. This was not a selfless act though, nothing was in their way of life, by acting as the kid's ward, he ensured her zealous loyalty and a future powerful pawn to secure first his and then his gang's seat of power.
The new life of violence settled well with the kid, coming from being a victim to becoming the one wielding the power (most of the times) was extremely gratifying. from the very beginning she was given a blaster pistol, a tool she was hardly fit to handle and was mostly used to increase the volume of fire of the gang, rather than really hitting anything. During one of those common firefights, after everything was over and they were scavenging the corpses, she stumbled upon a not so dead one. Having someone else at her feet and mercy to with as she pleased was an empowering sensation. The kid stood there staring down at the agonizing figure, a guy looking hardly old enough to be called a man, disregarding his pleas and other mumbles, she leveled her gun with the man's chest and squeezed the trigger. In a moment it was over, the stranger breathed his last and laid still on the spot with a scorched hole in his chest. The greatness of the sensation it gave her was beyond the boundaries of words, not only being the agresor and predator but also finally taking everything away from someone. Killing then and from that day on, became an analgesic (but not a cure) for her own internal issues and a way of venting her frustrations.
Naná quickly got addicted to her routine of excitement, the feeling of self reliance that accompanied each successful encounter and the progressive improvement of her skills and her shotting. The magic tricks and stunts that Horla kept passing on to her, did nothing but to give her an edge over other nameless gangers and bolstered a previously battered sense of self worth. Along the years she proved to be a decent shot and learned (the rough way) how to at least handle herself in a brawl. However over everything else, it was her swift moves and fast running pace that distinguished her as well as kept her alive. Under Horla's tutelage and protection, she slowly became an accepted member in the gang, enjoying a much better status than most striplings endured when joining it.
Those were (relatively speaking) good and joyful times while they lasted but like anything running in a fast, shady and violent fashion, it met a similar end. Like most if not all gangers, there is a time in which your time is overdue, Horla's gang was no exception. Naná never knew if they crossed the wrong group, just met a bigger fish or smaller ones banded together. Fact of the matter is that one of the somewhat common small skirmishes that made the weekly life of a gang, they did not only fail to get the upper hand, but from skirmish, turned into a bloodbath. Was it to wipe them out to get rid of them as a threat? Maybe it was just to take over their business operations or just out for revenge... Whatever was the reason, Naná recognized at least two of the three bands involved in the deed. They had struggled with them in the past months to get a hold and secure part of their goods and operations in the Industrial area and the star port of Lola Curich. It is hard for her to tell from her singular perspective of the fighting but from what Naná surmised, the whole thing was a good set up in which they were out-guned.
With more able hands to hold blasters and other crude weapons and a pitiful joke of a pincer movement (which for the level of the contestants was a masterfully effective plan), their foes had the two most important factors on their side. After making it by the skin, Naná learned from other 'survivors' that Horla didn't nor did most of the gang. Without its leader, its numbers dwarfed and many angry faces willing to finish the job, its remnants scattered. With (assuming) fifteen years old and a jar of enemies on the loose things didn't look too bright for her. I was at this point that a representative from the O.R.P.A. Initiative approached her, not only by mere chance but wary of the stunts an apparently impossible jumps and runs that she was so proud about and somewhat famous for in her world's circles. She then was introduced with an offer she could not afford to turn down.
Out of the rat-hole she lived at and far from a life that had suddenly become unbearably dangerous, she was first found a well fitting cog for the Sith empire war machine. However they soon find out the actual source of many of her stunts, tying it to what they knew and she told about her background and more specifically about Horla. The now known as Maltagon, took notice of the youngster, her possible potential but specially of the description of this Horla character. With a growing interest on who this (most probably) Ex-Jedi was, she took her to Korriban in order to 'the fold', hoping that over time some shed of light on this character. For all he knew Horla may had made it out alive, thus once Naná was finally dispatched to Korriban, he went to sought the man and any trace to him or his origin that may have been left, starting at Lianna.
Freshly arrived to Korriban, ready to forge herself a future, the clueless Naná knew little about the ways of the force at this point, only what magical trickery Horla taught her. It is only now in the face of a broader horizon, that she is starting to guess or understand herself that the 'Horla' individual, was some kind of Jedi reject or failed padawan of some short. Surely its was through the core of trust worthy members that he kept around him and by grace of his and Naná's 'special aptitudes' that they lasted so long at the peak of a lifestyle so resembling the shape of a roller-coaster, all before the inevitable downfall...
RP Sample: The usual rousing celebration, the routine that followed a successful raid on their "business" competition. Those still in shape were present, revolving around empty boasting, mildly friendly competitions and alcoholic beverages. Of the later, Naná's favorite, (not by choice but by circumstances) Dodbri whiskey was present. Despite her age, drinking had become another negative habit of hers, yet another path for escapism, a tendency for which no one could blame her. Besides, many of her comrades (younger and older alike) were no better, indulging themselves in much more hard kicking and perilous vices.
Taking another sip of her drink, she rejoined the ongoing discussion about how to distribute the spoils of the day's "game". After slamming the table with her hand she started to add her own approach to the whole thing "You don't get it, you just don't get it, do you? Individual spoils are not shared, whoever makes the kill is entitled to them. Why else would we bother to raid that S%&t-hole of a place full of that scum? Certainly not for the treasure they kept in there." She then finished her drink while staring at Frank, who in her limited understanding, was the main champion defending the idea of sharing the spoils as a whole instead of merely those 'belonging' to the place itself.
Frank, a rather well built man around his early twenties, was quite popular with the rest of the gang and much like Horla was quite level headed for someone belonging to one such group. "You are being too simple minded. You can't have most of the gang 'starve' just because the most of the loot goes to the most experienced members. Not before long, you would find yourself in a gang of one. Tell me, how long would you last on your own?" He wasn't challenging in his tone but certainly didn't seem intimidated by the young girl,, who he had known for long enough to be acquainted with her violent outbursts.
Naná, seeming somewhat angry at his persistence on the point, yelled back at him "You want to die here Frank!? Then, what worth is killing those rats anyway? And its not like they are good for anything alive either. Or do you think that any of those suckers would have enough to pay a ransom even if willing to?" Coming from the side as he overheard the discussion between the two, Horla showed up, calmly resting a hand on Naná's shoulder just to add "It was actually my idea, we can not run like this forever or let or numbers dwindle just because we are economically unappealing. We will find other ways to make an extra, for those that like you are eager to earn more." That said he sat at the table with the rest.
Throwing and breaking her now empty glass against a nearby wall she merely added "F*#k! Have it your way!" After which she took over the bottle, now that her glass was gone, surely there was a long night ahead with it.
Race: Human
Age: 15
Height: 5' 3''
Weight: 110 lb
Appearance: Nana is of a small yet athletic looking frame. She has a long raven colored mane which she fashions in several ways depending on the situation, from a rather pragmatic ponytail to the not so much flowing long straight hair. When she knows that there is going to be "business", she always covers the lower half of her face with a mask or cloth piece that may suffice for the same purpose. When out of "business" she is seen mostly wearing casual clothes, always including a scarf type of cloth piece should she unexpectedly run into something. This combined with her youthful visage make for a rather impersonation of a regular innocent and harmless girl of her age. Thus she betrays any assumptions made by someone who may not know just how she actually is.
Her rather soft and pale looking appearance suits the swiftness and grace of movements she conducts herself in, giving her an air of frailness that deeply contrasts with the more blunt and passionate attitude she displays whenever she is being outwardly violent. Up to this point she has favored dual blaster pistols as weapon of choice, which she carries holstered on the back of her waist.
Personality: The first impression she gives is one of a foul-mouthed 'tough' chick, she is of a violent and (at times) psychopathic nature. However her strength and tough charade comes from emotional instability, offspring of a horrible past and messed up childhood. With a very volatile and susceptible personality, prone to sudden violent outbursts or blunt and reckless action at apparently random times. Anything that resembles her past, making her think of those past events, tends to trigger such behavior and drags her into an endless spiral of more violent and darker attitude and deeds, much like a twisted self defense mechanism.
Given her upbringing to this point, Naná is not only greedy but pursues and values self betterment. She has little respect for traditions and regular moral conventions, not for idealistic reasons but for a mere matter of survival. Whenever there is the odd opportunity in which she isn't in one of her violent moods, she can behave in quite acceptable standards, either been somewhat critic with things that itch her about her surroundings, being plain lazy or even cheerful, always in the rare occasion she has a good reason to be so.
Oddly enough for someone so violently natured, Naná is not prone to hold grudges, most times letting them go in the long run. Honoring her volatile nature and even being able to tag in and work with them without much trouble. However, due that very same nature, this is only applicable to those who managed to survive her initial violent outburst and reached that point. Prone to anger as she is, Naná has a hard time forging lasting friendships. Most of them having a hard time enduring or surviving the long (and crowded with violent episodes that threaten their lives) path between being an acquaintance, an associate, a 'partner' and lastly a friend. But, was one to reach the end of the road, she proves to be loyal reliable and somewhat 'caring' ally.
Birth place: Lianna City's Lower Class Suburbs.
Faction: Sith
Rank: Initiate
Previous Faction: Civilian/Grey Jedi
Previous Rank: Ganger
Lightsaber: -
Color: -
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho 2
Makashi -
Soresu -
Ataru -
Shien / Djem So -
>>Sub-form Backhanded -
Niman -
>>Sub-form Jar-kai, or Dual Wield -
Juyo -
Double Bladed Combat -
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telekinetic: 2
Telepathic: -
Body: 3
Sense: -
Protection: -
Healing: 1
Destruction: -
Specialized Skills: -
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 4
Intelligence: 5
Speed: 5
Leadership: 2
Unarmed: 3
Melee Weapons: 1
Ranged Weapons: 4
Bio: A nameless orphan for all she knows, maybe she was abducted or her parents died for some reason, fact of the matter is she is not able to recall them. For all Naná cares her parents was an orphanage, which in turn proved to be a mixed experience. Being just another one among many, and in a environment in which everyone was out for their own, the place didn't really drench them with any 'family life' feeling. Some of the workers were truly devoted to the orphanage's purpose, caring for the kids and trying to ensure their basic needs were covered. But most (and casually enough the ones in charge) just used it as a cover for a source of cheap working force and fresh meat for slavers. This situation, given the turmoiled times she was 'lucky enough' to live, was not rare even in a relatively settled and peaceful world as Lianna. The suburbs were a reliable source for more children, offspring of the dregs and very low income workers of the planet's industry.
With no shortage in their flow, there was nothing really keeping the wards from handling the 'stock' as they pleased. Maybe out of pure sadism, maybe just to bend their will or as a mean to keep them in line... They 'dispensed' beatings, forgot to do so with a day's meal every now and then and made the kids endure an humiliation after another. Whatever the reason was, by the time they reached an age to work, or as they officially claimed, find a foster family, most had their will broken and were smuggled off planet to different 'working' destinations, never to be heard of again. These activities were unknown for most, a mixture of secretive measures from those involved, a general lack of care for the fate of those wretched unknown orphans and the fact that most of the 'mysterious' profits from these activities remained at Lianna. After (like others) enduring some years of abuse but the shadier individuals running the orphanage and their peers, she broke away. Choosing the risk of abuse, starvation and death over submission to those very same things, Naná became a street urchin at the age of seven. In her beginnings, she led a rather miserable life of begging and when there was a good chance, stealing to earn enough to feed herself.
Luckily enough, the would be knave only led such road to future disaster for so long. Not a year had passed, she crossed ways with an individual who only identified himself as Horla. She had tried to steal from him and had been, 'surprisingly' enough, caught red handed. The young man, sensing the room for improvement beyond the boundaries 'regular' expectations she had, took the kid under his wing, not only introducing her to his and one of the petty gangs that crawled the darker areas of Lianna with an air of self importance. But also to some tricks and techniques that from her ignorance she understood as magical, moving small objects out of some strange sorcery than she too was able to emulate or empowering herself to make seemly impossible jumps as well as a 'seemingly useless' combat style (which out of respect and gratitude, she tolerated to learn, even with its lack of practical application) were only a few of the tricks he (with a great deal of patience) started to teach her. This was not a selfless act though, nothing was in their way of life, by acting as the kid's ward, he ensured her zealous loyalty and a future powerful pawn to secure first his and then his gang's seat of power.
The new life of violence settled well with the kid, coming from being a victim to becoming the one wielding the power (most of the times) was extremely gratifying. from the very beginning she was given a blaster pistol, a tool she was hardly fit to handle and was mostly used to increase the volume of fire of the gang, rather than really hitting anything. During one of those common firefights, after everything was over and they were scavenging the corpses, she stumbled upon a not so dead one. Having someone else at her feet and mercy to with as she pleased was an empowering sensation. The kid stood there staring down at the agonizing figure, a guy looking hardly old enough to be called a man, disregarding his pleas and other mumbles, she leveled her gun with the man's chest and squeezed the trigger. In a moment it was over, the stranger breathed his last and laid still on the spot with a scorched hole in his chest. The greatness of the sensation it gave her was beyond the boundaries of words, not only being the agresor and predator but also finally taking everything away from someone. Killing then and from that day on, became an analgesic (but not a cure) for her own internal issues and a way of venting her frustrations.
Naná quickly got addicted to her routine of excitement, the feeling of self reliance that accompanied each successful encounter and the progressive improvement of her skills and her shotting. The magic tricks and stunts that Horla kept passing on to her, did nothing but to give her an edge over other nameless gangers and bolstered a previously battered sense of self worth. Along the years she proved to be a decent shot and learned (the rough way) how to at least handle herself in a brawl. However over everything else, it was her swift moves and fast running pace that distinguished her as well as kept her alive. Under Horla's tutelage and protection, she slowly became an accepted member in the gang, enjoying a much better status than most striplings endured when joining it.
Those were (relatively speaking) good and joyful times while they lasted but like anything running in a fast, shady and violent fashion, it met a similar end. Like most if not all gangers, there is a time in which your time is overdue, Horla's gang was no exception. Naná never knew if they crossed the wrong group, just met a bigger fish or smaller ones banded together. Fact of the matter is that one of the somewhat common small skirmishes that made the weekly life of a gang, they did not only fail to get the upper hand, but from skirmish, turned into a bloodbath. Was it to wipe them out to get rid of them as a threat? Maybe it was just to take over their business operations or just out for revenge... Whatever was the reason, Naná recognized at least two of the three bands involved in the deed. They had struggled with them in the past months to get a hold and secure part of their goods and operations in the Industrial area and the star port of Lola Curich. It is hard for her to tell from her singular perspective of the fighting but from what Naná surmised, the whole thing was a good set up in which they were out-guned.
With more able hands to hold blasters and other crude weapons and a pitiful joke of a pincer movement (which for the level of the contestants was a masterfully effective plan), their foes had the two most important factors on their side. After making it by the skin, Naná learned from other 'survivors' that Horla didn't nor did most of the gang. Without its leader, its numbers dwarfed and many angry faces willing to finish the job, its remnants scattered. With (assuming) fifteen years old and a jar of enemies on the loose things didn't look too bright for her. I was at this point that a representative from the O.R.P.A. Initiative approached her, not only by mere chance but wary of the stunts an apparently impossible jumps and runs that she was so proud about and somewhat famous for in her world's circles. She then was introduced with an offer she could not afford to turn down.
Out of the rat-hole she lived at and far from a life that had suddenly become unbearably dangerous, she was first found a well fitting cog for the Sith empire war machine. However they soon find out the actual source of many of her stunts, tying it to what they knew and she told about her background and more specifically about Horla. The now known as Maltagon, took notice of the youngster, her possible potential but specially of the description of this Horla character. With a growing interest on who this (most probably) Ex-Jedi was, she took her to Korriban in order to 'the fold', hoping that over time some shed of light on this character. For all he knew Horla may had made it out alive, thus once Naná was finally dispatched to Korriban, he went to sought the man and any trace to him or his origin that may have been left, starting at Lianna.
Freshly arrived to Korriban, ready to forge herself a future, the clueless Naná knew little about the ways of the force at this point, only what magical trickery Horla taught her. It is only now in the face of a broader horizon, that she is starting to guess or understand herself that the 'Horla' individual, was some kind of Jedi reject or failed padawan of some short. Surely its was through the core of trust worthy members that he kept around him and by grace of his and Naná's 'special aptitudes' that they lasted so long at the peak of a lifestyle so resembling the shape of a roller-coaster, all before the inevitable downfall...
RP Sample: The usual rousing celebration, the routine that followed a successful raid on their "business" competition. Those still in shape were present, revolving around empty boasting, mildly friendly competitions and alcoholic beverages. Of the later, Naná's favorite, (not by choice but by circumstances) Dodbri whiskey was present. Despite her age, drinking had become another negative habit of hers, yet another path for escapism, a tendency for which no one could blame her. Besides, many of her comrades (younger and older alike) were no better, indulging themselves in much more hard kicking and perilous vices.
Taking another sip of her drink, she rejoined the ongoing discussion about how to distribute the spoils of the day's "game". After slamming the table with her hand she started to add her own approach to the whole thing "You don't get it, you just don't get it, do you? Individual spoils are not shared, whoever makes the kill is entitled to them. Why else would we bother to raid that S%&t-hole of a place full of that scum? Certainly not for the treasure they kept in there." She then finished her drink while staring at Frank, who in her limited understanding, was the main champion defending the idea of sharing the spoils as a whole instead of merely those 'belonging' to the place itself.
Frank, a rather well built man around his early twenties, was quite popular with the rest of the gang and much like Horla was quite level headed for someone belonging to one such group. "You are being too simple minded. You can't have most of the gang 'starve' just because the most of the loot goes to the most experienced members. Not before long, you would find yourself in a gang of one. Tell me, how long would you last on your own?" He wasn't challenging in his tone but certainly didn't seem intimidated by the young girl,, who he had known for long enough to be acquainted with her violent outbursts.
Naná, seeming somewhat angry at his persistence on the point, yelled back at him "You want to die here Frank!? Then, what worth is killing those rats anyway? And its not like they are good for anything alive either. Or do you think that any of those suckers would have enough to pay a ransom even if willing to?" Coming from the side as he overheard the discussion between the two, Horla showed up, calmly resting a hand on Naná's shoulder just to add "It was actually my idea, we can not run like this forever or let or numbers dwindle just because we are economically unappealing. We will find other ways to make an extra, for those that like you are eager to earn more." That said he sat at the table with the rest.
Throwing and breaking her now empty glass against a nearby wall she merely added "F*#k! Have it your way!" After which she took over the bottle, now that her glass was gone, surely there was a long night ahead with it.
