- Joined
- Sep 29, 2013
- Messages
- 752
- Reaction score
- 229
NAME: "Kitty"
FACTION: Sith Order
RANK: Acolyte
HOMEWORLD: Nar Shaddaa
FORCE-SENSITIVE: Yes
SPECIES: Human
GENDER: Female
ORIENTATION: -
AGE: 19
HEIGHT: 158 cm
WEIGHT: 40 kg
Personality
Despite being nineteen years of age and considering herself an adult in every way, deep down Kytana is nothing more than a scared little girl with no confidence in herself. There is only one thing she truly believes she is good at, and that one thing is also the thing she hates most in the galaxy. Acting. The one tool that has helped her survive out in the galaxy is also the one thing she despises more than anything. She still uses it, though. After all, it’s all she has. She can use the Force, but she doesn’t believe in her skill with it. She can wield a lightsaber, but she doesn’t believe she could handle another Force user with it, especially with how small she is. She believes acting is all she has, and so she uses it despite her hatred for it.
She has desires, though. She has aspirations and wishes for what she would like to become. One day, she tells herself, she will be so powerful no one can touch her. The words and conditioning of her parents will be meaningless drivel. All the times they called her useless and awful and blamed her for their failure to succeed will mean nothing. One day she will be so powerful that no one will dare criticise her for fear of incurring her wrath. And the only way to get there is to act the part until she achieves it. Or so she tells herself.
Kytana is not exactly a stable person. When she was young she was taught and conditioned to repress her emotions for no other reason than because they got in the way of what her parents were trying to teach her. As a result she is very emotionally stunted. She will never cry in earnest. No matter how bad a situation; no matter how much pain she is in; no matter how joyful she may feel, Kytana will never legitimately cry. Unless someone that has asserted control over her commands her to, or if she is acting. Then, and only then, will she bawl like a baby. But it is a lie. It is a well practiced charade that she can turn on and off like a light switch.
At almost every point, Kytana - or someone manipulating her - is in complete control of her emotions. On rare occasions, however, there is nothing she can do except explode. It is a rare thing, but as with all people that repress their emotions, when she finally lets it out it is like an explosion. It was this very thing that stopped a girl her own age from sleeping at night for fear of “nightmares.” It was this very thing that gave her the very brief moment of confidence she needed to flee from her parents. And it was this very thing that brought to light the inherent streak of cruelty that lay beneath the facade of calm, controlled obedience.
Since joining the Sith, Kytana has come into herself a lot more. Her current situation is both vastly different from her previous homeless one and also identical in so many ways. She has grown a lot, but still many things remain the same. She has learned how to use a melee weapon in combat, but has no confidence in herself and does not think she could defeat a properly trained foe. She has been trained more in her usage of the Force, but still she struggles to call it to her when she needs it, and when it does come she struggles to control it properly. She has grown and improved in many ways, yet still she remains the same terrified little girl that she was when she was first brought to them.
Perhaps the most drastic change that has occurred is her mentality toward other Sith. For the most part she distrusts them and treats most of them the same way she would anyone else: with extreme amounts of acting and hiding behind the multitude of metaphorical masks she has worn all her life. There is one, however, that she has taken a liking to. There is one that she has grown to idolise in many different ways, with her size, strength and confidence being among the main things Kytana holds up as shining lights. And then there is the way in which she acts. Unlike almost every other Sith Kytana has come across, she does not feel duplicitous. She does not feel like she is saying one thing and meaning another, but instead saying one thing and meaning that thing. As a result of this, and whether it is deserved or not, Kytana has developed a case of hero worship.
She has desires, though. She has aspirations and wishes for what she would like to become. One day, she tells herself, she will be so powerful no one can touch her. The words and conditioning of her parents will be meaningless drivel. All the times they called her useless and awful and blamed her for their failure to succeed will mean nothing. One day she will be so powerful that no one will dare criticise her for fear of incurring her wrath. And the only way to get there is to act the part until she achieves it. Or so she tells herself.
Kytana is not exactly a stable person. When she was young she was taught and conditioned to repress her emotions for no other reason than because they got in the way of what her parents were trying to teach her. As a result she is very emotionally stunted. She will never cry in earnest. No matter how bad a situation; no matter how much pain she is in; no matter how joyful she may feel, Kytana will never legitimately cry. Unless someone that has asserted control over her commands her to, or if she is acting. Then, and only then, will she bawl like a baby. But it is a lie. It is a well practiced charade that she can turn on and off like a light switch.
At almost every point, Kytana - or someone manipulating her - is in complete control of her emotions. On rare occasions, however, there is nothing she can do except explode. It is a rare thing, but as with all people that repress their emotions, when she finally lets it out it is like an explosion. It was this very thing that stopped a girl her own age from sleeping at night for fear of “nightmares.” It was this very thing that gave her the very brief moment of confidence she needed to flee from her parents. And it was this very thing that brought to light the inherent streak of cruelty that lay beneath the facade of calm, controlled obedience.
Since joining the Sith, Kytana has come into herself a lot more. Her current situation is both vastly different from her previous homeless one and also identical in so many ways. She has grown a lot, but still many things remain the same. She has learned how to use a melee weapon in combat, but has no confidence in herself and does not think she could defeat a properly trained foe. She has been trained more in her usage of the Force, but still she struggles to call it to her when she needs it, and when it does come she struggles to control it properly. She has grown and improved in many ways, yet still she remains the same terrified little girl that she was when she was first brought to them.
Perhaps the most drastic change that has occurred is her mentality toward other Sith. For the most part she distrusts them and treats most of them the same way she would anyone else: with extreme amounts of acting and hiding behind the multitude of metaphorical masks she has worn all her life. There is one, however, that she has taken a liking to. There is one that she has grown to idolise in many different ways, with her size, strength and confidence being among the main things Kytana holds up as shining lights. And then there is the way in which she acts. Unlike almost every other Sith Kytana has come across, she does not feel duplicitous. She does not feel like she is saying one thing and meaning another, but instead saying one thing and meaning that thing. As a result of this, and whether it is deserved or not, Kytana has developed a case of hero worship.
⚜
Act One
Kytana’s parents were both heavily involved in Nar Shaddaa’s acting scene. They never achieved much fame, but they both loved performing more than life itself. They resented their lack of fame, though. They resented the people they thought had held them down and refused to give them the chances and the breaks they so desperately hungered after and truly believed they deserved. The truth was they were never anything more than mediocre actors that were good enough for small time local performances, but not even close to being good enough for the big stage.
The two let their desire for fame and fortune corrupt them to their very cores. The corruption that was born within them as a result of their unfulfilled desires controlled their lives. It twisted them this way and that, wrenching them left and right and up and down until they were so turned around they had no idea which way was up. Their lust and hunger for the perceived power that came with fame and fortune utterly corrupted their beings and destroyed their moral compasses.
When Kytana was born they were not happy. Instead of viewing her as a new guiding light and as a new purpose to replace their failing acting careers with, they instead saw her as a burden. In the end, all she became was the latest reason they weren’t already rich and famous. Throughout her childhood, Kytana heard the story of how her mother had been so close to that big break she needed; that big break she’d definitely have gotten, when suddenly disaster struck and she had fallen pregnant with Kytana.
The story, as her mother told it, dropped her failure on her unborn daughter’s shoulders. That is what her parents were like. Nothing was ever their fault. Everything, regardless of what it was, could always be blamed on someone else. They weren’t poor because they’d squandered their money on an expensive house befitting their “proper station”, they were poor because no one realised their true worth. They didn’t fail every big audition because they were mediocre actors; they failed because the ones holding the audition were clearly biased toward that twi’lek woman and only chose her because she had a large chest, despite how much of a talentless hack she clearly was.
Eventually Kytana did become their shining light, but not in the way a daughter should. As she grew and as she showed a clear talent for acting, they began to realise that she might have what it took to achieve what they never had. And so they pushed her. They pushed her very hard, harping on every weakness she had, trying to correct it and turn her into the perfect little actress. They home schooled her, teaching her only what they thought important and neglecting everything else. She may have been a child, but she understood what was going on, if in a very childish way. Despite being naturally talented at acting, she grew to hate it. She didn’t throw tantrums, though. She’d been taught better than that. She knew tantrums meant being yelled at, smacked and left without food until she apologised for speaking back to her mother and father like that. And so she bottled it up. She tried breaking down in tears, but it only worked once. After that she was quickly taught that crying was bad.
By the time she was ten she had been transformed into the perfect little actress. She fell into the role of the evil Sith on command; of the heroic Jedi; of the helpless slave girl. But she also did other things on command. She started and stopped crying at the sound of a single word or raised voice. She started screaming and shouting on command and then stopped immediately when told to. She ran, she jumped, she sat and she rolled over. Her parents had achieved what they’d wanted. In their eyes, she was the perfect child. Never disobeying, never speaking back and always doing exactly what her parents wanted her to.
They didn’t see what they were actually doing. They were too focused on passing on their talents to her so she could give them the life the galaxy had denied them. If they’d cared to look they would have seen the signs, but they didn’t. All they cared about was conditioning her in exactly the way they wanted. All they saw was a little version of themselves that they could turn into whatever they pleased. And so they did.
She tried to speak up and say no when she was young and stupid, but they very quickly trained her not to. Telling them she hated what they were doing - that they were cruel and evil - wasn’t what they wanted to hear. Even if it was said right to their faces, their twisted and corrupted minds wouldn’t let them hear it. All they saw was a bratty little child insisting on misbehaving; on making them punish her; on refusing the gifts they were giving her.
The two let their desire for fame and fortune corrupt them to their very cores. The corruption that was born within them as a result of their unfulfilled desires controlled their lives. It twisted them this way and that, wrenching them left and right and up and down until they were so turned around they had no idea which way was up. Their lust and hunger for the perceived power that came with fame and fortune utterly corrupted their beings and destroyed their moral compasses.
When Kytana was born they were not happy. Instead of viewing her as a new guiding light and as a new purpose to replace their failing acting careers with, they instead saw her as a burden. In the end, all she became was the latest reason they weren’t already rich and famous. Throughout her childhood, Kytana heard the story of how her mother had been so close to that big break she needed; that big break she’d definitely have gotten, when suddenly disaster struck and she had fallen pregnant with Kytana.
The story, as her mother told it, dropped her failure on her unborn daughter’s shoulders. That is what her parents were like. Nothing was ever their fault. Everything, regardless of what it was, could always be blamed on someone else. They weren’t poor because they’d squandered their money on an expensive house befitting their “proper station”, they were poor because no one realised their true worth. They didn’t fail every big audition because they were mediocre actors; they failed because the ones holding the audition were clearly biased toward that twi’lek woman and only chose her because she had a large chest, despite how much of a talentless hack she clearly was.
Eventually Kytana did become their shining light, but not in the way a daughter should. As she grew and as she showed a clear talent for acting, they began to realise that she might have what it took to achieve what they never had. And so they pushed her. They pushed her very hard, harping on every weakness she had, trying to correct it and turn her into the perfect little actress. They home schooled her, teaching her only what they thought important and neglecting everything else. She may have been a child, but she understood what was going on, if in a very childish way. Despite being naturally talented at acting, she grew to hate it. She didn’t throw tantrums, though. She’d been taught better than that. She knew tantrums meant being yelled at, smacked and left without food until she apologised for speaking back to her mother and father like that. And so she bottled it up. She tried breaking down in tears, but it only worked once. After that she was quickly taught that crying was bad.
They didn’t see what they were actually doing. They were too focused on passing on their talents to her so she could give them the life the galaxy had denied them. If they’d cared to look they would have seen the signs, but they didn’t. All they cared about was conditioning her in exactly the way they wanted. All they saw was a little version of themselves that they could turn into whatever they pleased. And so they did.
She tried to speak up and say no when she was young and stupid, but they very quickly trained her not to. Telling them she hated what they were doing - that they were cruel and evil - wasn’t what they wanted to hear. Even if it was said right to their faces, their twisted and corrupted minds wouldn’t let them hear it. All they saw was a bratty little child insisting on misbehaving; on making them punish her; on refusing the gifts they were giving her.
⚜
Act Two
She never gathered enough courage to talk back to them and tell them what she really thought of them. She did gather enough courage to run away, though. Escaping was the only victory against them she ever achieved. In every other way imaginable, they had won. When she ran away at the age of twelve, she was the perfect little actress, just like they’d wanted her to be. She’d never admit it, but their training helped her survive. She spent two years drifting across the galaxy, bluffing and acting her way aboard ships and into beds she could use for a short time so she didn’t have to sleep on the street. Over the course of those two years, Kytana mostly interacted with criminals and other unsavoury scum. They were easier and safer to deal with than more upright citizens. Upright citizens with actual morals asked annoying questions about why someone her age was wandering around alone; why she looked homeless; why she was so skinny. The criminal underbelly had far less morals and cared far less about her story, so long as she could give them something in trade for their kindness to her.
Just over two years into her homelessness, Kytana was thrown into a world she never even knew existed. She'd heard the stories; she'd heard the rumours; she'd performed the plays, but in her young teenage mind, such things were only ever stories made up by people with a good imagination. They didn't actually exist, no. They were tales brilliantly weaved by creative minds and brilliantly performed by charismatic actors, but that was it. The Sith, they called themselves. The devils of a million different stories. The destroyers of civilisations and the subjugators of the weak. The storied bringers of darkness. The nightmares plaguing the minds of billions of different children as they slept, brought on by horrifying tales told by their parents. But that was all they were to her. Stories. Tales to frighten children. Fictitious figures that made for an engaging tale, but had no impact on the real galaxy.
At first they were just whispers on the very edge of hearing. They were something you had to stop and listen very carefully to even notice. At first the tales whispered in dark corners of seedy cantinas were nothing more than that. They were interesting tales to keep drunken patrons entertained, and maybe to spur the more adventurous ones into exploring the dark reaches of the galactic north-east. This is how Kytana came to realise that the tales she'd been hearing since her childhood were not, in fact, false.
At the time she was hitching rides around the Outer Rim with an adventurous captain that had an eye for credits. He heard such stories in such cantinas, but unlike the others, the gears in his head were set to turning. Where dark, mysterious figures lurked, so too must ancient artifacts of the empire fallen a century ago. And where ancient artifacts lurked, so too did credits. And so they set out for what had once been Sith space. Unbeknownst to them, it was once again Sith space. Korriban was their destination. After some asking around, the captain had come to the conclusion that if artifacts were to be found then it would be on the Sith world of Korriban, where someone had told him the Sith of old trained their acolytes.
And so it was that their little freighter arrived on Korriban. A very clearly occupied Korriban. By the time the captain realised the planet wasn't deserted it was too late. They were forced to land and immediately boarded. The captain and his crew were slaughtered, for the Sith wished that no one know of their presence yet. Kytana, however, was spared. The woman leading the group on board the ship, whoever she was, singled her out. She had her dragged off the ship, brought into the academy and placed in a holding cell. And so it was that Kytana Kaltrel, the homeless urchin girl that drifted around the galaxy on a currency of promises both true and false, joined the Sith Brotherhood.
Four years later, at the age of nineteen, she is still an acolyte.
Just over two years into her homelessness, Kytana was thrown into a world she never even knew existed. She'd heard the stories; she'd heard the rumours; she'd performed the plays, but in her young teenage mind, such things were only ever stories made up by people with a good imagination. They didn't actually exist, no. They were tales brilliantly weaved by creative minds and brilliantly performed by charismatic actors, but that was it. The Sith, they called themselves. The devils of a million different stories. The destroyers of civilisations and the subjugators of the weak. The storied bringers of darkness. The nightmares plaguing the minds of billions of different children as they slept, brought on by horrifying tales told by their parents. But that was all they were to her. Stories. Tales to frighten children. Fictitious figures that made for an engaging tale, but had no impact on the real galaxy.
At first they were just whispers on the very edge of hearing. They were something you had to stop and listen very carefully to even notice. At first the tales whispered in dark corners of seedy cantinas were nothing more than that. They were interesting tales to keep drunken patrons entertained, and maybe to spur the more adventurous ones into exploring the dark reaches of the galactic north-east. This is how Kytana came to realise that the tales she'd been hearing since her childhood were not, in fact, false.
And so it was that their little freighter arrived on Korriban. A very clearly occupied Korriban. By the time the captain realised the planet wasn't deserted it was too late. They were forced to land and immediately boarded. The captain and his crew were slaughtered, for the Sith wished that no one know of their presence yet. Kytana, however, was spared. The woman leading the group on board the ship, whoever she was, singled her out. She had her dragged off the ship, brought into the academy and placed in a holding cell. And so it was that Kytana Kaltrel, the homeless urchin girl that drifted around the galaxy on a currency of promises both true and false, joined the Sith Brotherhood.
Four years later, at the age of nineteen, she is still an acolyte.
A TEMPLATE MADE BY:
Marf
Marf
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