Avarice Whyte
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Mar 22, 2011
- Messages
- 4
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Name: Avarice Whyte
Age: 26 Galactic Years
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Dark Brown
Homeworld: Coruscant
Tomorrow. The very concept of the future was simply a method of controlling the masses, hope, once a noble concept had become another way to tug at the strings of the unsuspecting. There seemed to be no ambition or drive left in the heart of the galaxy, just a hive of drones, each passerby striving to do nothing more than reach a quota or a deadline.
A mess of suits and ties trapped within the confines of a maze, each taking an alternate route in an attempt to escape. Welcome to Coruscant, I'm Avarice Whyte. The beginning of the story is much the same as any other, there were parents, they lusted for one another enough to procreate and as a result of those brief moments of ecstasy a child was born, a bouncing baby boy.
The twist comes after that brief encounter, where in any normal relationship you would perhaps cuddle, talk or maybe even light a deathstick his father simply threw a handful of credits on the nightstand, tugged his pants on and left. That was a daily occurrence. A prostitute for a mother, what a sordid childhood he must have had you say, it had its benefits, though they were few and far between.
I am the brains. This skinny frame unfortunately does not allow me to be the brawn. By my teens I was remotely filming my mothers work and ransoming the footage back to those gentlemen for a tidy profit. Blackmail? Yes, it's not beneath me to be that way. These men have wives and families; it would be such a shame if their midnight rendezvous resulted in a marriage breakdown. Heaven forbid their children grew up in a broken home. Bitter? Yes, wouldn't you be?
The sex trade has a shelf life, one my mother had sadly reached and her usefulness had dried up along with her business. So here I am, sitting atop a leather-bound suitcase filled with all my worldly possessions just dying to get off this rock. Of course now I had to decide where to go. An extortionist, a pety criminal and a social invert. Making friends was going to be a little difficult...
Age: 26 Galactic Years
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Dark Brown
Homeworld: Coruscant
Tomorrow. The very concept of the future was simply a method of controlling the masses, hope, once a noble concept had become another way to tug at the strings of the unsuspecting. There seemed to be no ambition or drive left in the heart of the galaxy, just a hive of drones, each passerby striving to do nothing more than reach a quota or a deadline.
A mess of suits and ties trapped within the confines of a maze, each taking an alternate route in an attempt to escape. Welcome to Coruscant, I'm Avarice Whyte. The beginning of the story is much the same as any other, there were parents, they lusted for one another enough to procreate and as a result of those brief moments of ecstasy a child was born, a bouncing baby boy.
The twist comes after that brief encounter, where in any normal relationship you would perhaps cuddle, talk or maybe even light a deathstick his father simply threw a handful of credits on the nightstand, tugged his pants on and left. That was a daily occurrence. A prostitute for a mother, what a sordid childhood he must have had you say, it had its benefits, though they were few and far between.
I am the brains. This skinny frame unfortunately does not allow me to be the brawn. By my teens I was remotely filming my mothers work and ransoming the footage back to those gentlemen for a tidy profit. Blackmail? Yes, it's not beneath me to be that way. These men have wives and families; it would be such a shame if their midnight rendezvous resulted in a marriage breakdown. Heaven forbid their children grew up in a broken home. Bitter? Yes, wouldn't you be?
The sex trade has a shelf life, one my mother had sadly reached and her usefulness had dried up along with her business. So here I am, sitting atop a leather-bound suitcase filled with all my worldly possessions just dying to get off this rock. Of course now I had to decide where to go. An extortionist, a pety criminal and a social invert. Making friends was going to be a little difficult...