- Joined
- May 17, 2009
- Messages
- 1,077
- Reaction score
- 2
“She paused in thought, scratching her temple and up her scalp with the very fork she had just minutes ago been using to chip away at her slowly cooling meal , which lay in neat little piles about her plate.
“Like holo vids!” she suddenly exclaimed, slamming her fist and the silver ware clenched inside on the table with an screwy expression of realization.
“ I can’t stop watching a holovid until its done-even if I hate it!”
Her mouth grew tight and her eyes narrowed, voice lowering into a bitter hiss as she added:
“ Not until its done….Even if I hate it….can’t stop watching once I’ve started…”
She trailed off and I jolted as she again alerted me with a bang of her closed hand near my plate.
“Sometimes at night,” she said, nodding her head and taking gulps of algarine between sentences, “I never use a cup when I drink juice and I have-” she shut her eyes as she swallowed and let out a small sigh of refreshment.
“Bad taste in music.”
She resettled, facing me with a smile that narrowed her eyes and her fingers folded on the table before mine expectantly.
“So tell me your problems.” She said sweetly.
I was taken aback, letting a nervous laugh slip I echoed her statement incredulously:
“My problems?”
“yeah.” she said, nodding with wide eyes and lifting her hands to demonstrate with wild motions.
“See, it’s not until women really like a man that they tell them their problems- So before I decide if I want to like you I want to know yours! I want to know your problems- tell me your problems! What’s your problem?”
I exhaled deeply.
Not only was her statement utterly ridiculous, it was undeniably true.
“what are you a psychologist?’ I asked playfully.
Her face took on a new hardness and she took interest in her plate once again, picking at the scant scraps with her fork.
“No.” she said sharply.
Then, slowly bringing her eyes to mine as nonchalant as an opinion about the weather she said:
“I’m dying.”
............
“So I don‘t want to waste too much time on this date.” She reiterated.
(drawing in progress)
NAME: Pashka Jeer
FACTION: independent
RANK: N/A
SPECIES: Hapan
AGE: 26
GENDER: Female
HEIGHT: 5’2’’
WEIGHT: 118
EYES: Whine
HAIR: Jet Black
SKIN: Tan
CREDITS: 1,000
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: As beautiful as expected of one of her species but eccentric in her mannerism- she often wears a sort of decoration over her nose ((resembling that worn by the Mayan’s in our ancient universe))
DOMINATE HAND: Right.
FORCE SENSITIVE: No.
STRENGTH: physically weak.
DEXTERITY: Steady.
CONSTITUTION: Failing
INTELLIGENCE: Astonishing
WISDOM: Questionable, idealistic.
CHARISMA: Honest and confident, her loyalty encourages confidentiality but many find her “Odd.”
FORCE POWERS:
N/A
SKILLS: Ship and weaponry engineer of great talent.
LIGHTSABER/SWORD FORMS:
N/A
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES:
Strengths: Tech work, ship and armor customization and manufacturing, weapon calibrations, hacking- ranged weapons.
Weaknesses: Social cues, Keeping quiet, humbleness, physical altercations/ melee. She is nearly night blind as her home planet’s sun never sets.
GEAR: Custom combat suit:
Flight capabilities not possible at the moment, portable communicator and shades used to adjust light to her eye’s sensitivity. Increases strenght and durability.
SHIP:
“weeping reaper”
PETS:
N/A
PERSONALITY: Uninhibited and eccentric, confident and occasionally acting in ways socially unacceptable for many sentient species with concerns about hygiene ( She’d sooner eat food found on the city streets then let it go to waste) Pashka lives as only those with an approaching expiration date can- to the fullest, no matter the cost.
HISTORY:
It is a subject of debate whether the onset of Stockholm syndrome or a couple’s mutual love is held responsible for Pashka’s birth. What is certain however is that she inherited her father’s barbarous manners and her mother’s keen intellect. The product of an oafish raider and his beautiful captive she was raised with a balance of encouragement to disregard authority yet command it…thus was the philosophy of a rebellious man wanted in several systems and admitted “protective father.”
Her mother said very little and frowned even less so. She was of a cheery manner but undeniably detached from reality; she detested conflict and avoided it with either silence or crazed refusal of it. It is rumored she was an experienced hyper drive engineer prior to meeting her husband…
Pashka left the Hape’s cluster when she was nearly fifteen, funded by her father and his outspoken fear of her “being stuck there” Namely amongst the primarily male population and little room for a young woman to make anything of herself but the wife of a smuggler- she found work on Coruscant. There she apprenticed with a friend of her father’s (Camillo Carlo, a Kiffar of forty years-twenty of them spent in the field)
who made a successful living as an armor manufacturer and designer for combat or even decorative purposes. As she moved onto engineer and test said armor she expanded Carlo’s wares to weaponry . Her free time was spent repairing and modifying old ship’s and she was acclaimed for doing so.
two years later the numbness began. It was largely ignored until she was 25 and received the news-Quannot's syndrome was attacking her nervous system. She could die at any moment. It was knowledge she would keep locked away but those around her quickly took noticed her increased recklessness.
She began testing her ships and armor personally (rather then the cautious use of droids). She feared nothing.
KILLS:
N/A
DUELING RING MATCHES:
N/A
GRAND TOURNAMENT MATCHES:
N/A.
ROLE-PLAYS:
“Like holo vids!” she suddenly exclaimed, slamming her fist and the silver ware clenched inside on the table with an screwy expression of realization.
“ I can’t stop watching a holovid until its done-even if I hate it!”
Her mouth grew tight and her eyes narrowed, voice lowering into a bitter hiss as she added:
“ Not until its done….Even if I hate it….can’t stop watching once I’ve started…”
She trailed off and I jolted as she again alerted me with a bang of her closed hand near my plate.
“Sometimes at night,” she said, nodding her head and taking gulps of algarine between sentences, “I never use a cup when I drink juice and I have-” she shut her eyes as she swallowed and let out a small sigh of refreshment.
“Bad taste in music.”
She resettled, facing me with a smile that narrowed her eyes and her fingers folded on the table before mine expectantly.
“So tell me your problems.” She said sweetly.
I was taken aback, letting a nervous laugh slip I echoed her statement incredulously:
“My problems?”
“yeah.” she said, nodding with wide eyes and lifting her hands to demonstrate with wild motions.
“See, it’s not until women really like a man that they tell them their problems- So before I decide if I want to like you I want to know yours! I want to know your problems- tell me your problems! What’s your problem?”
I exhaled deeply.
Not only was her statement utterly ridiculous, it was undeniably true.
“what are you a psychologist?’ I asked playfully.
Her face took on a new hardness and she took interest in her plate once again, picking at the scant scraps with her fork.
“No.” she said sharply.
Then, slowly bringing her eyes to mine as nonchalant as an opinion about the weather she said:
“I’m dying.”
............
“So I don‘t want to waste too much time on this date.” She reiterated.
(drawing in progress)
NAME: Pashka Jeer
FACTION: independent
RANK: N/A
SPECIES: Hapan
AGE: 26
GENDER: Female
HEIGHT: 5’2’’
WEIGHT: 118
EYES: Whine
HAIR: Jet Black
SKIN: Tan
CREDITS: 1,000
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: As beautiful as expected of one of her species but eccentric in her mannerism- she often wears a sort of decoration over her nose ((resembling that worn by the Mayan’s in our ancient universe))
DOMINATE HAND: Right.
FORCE SENSITIVE: No.
STRENGTH: physically weak.
DEXTERITY: Steady.
CONSTITUTION: Failing
INTELLIGENCE: Astonishing
WISDOM: Questionable, idealistic.
CHARISMA: Honest and confident, her loyalty encourages confidentiality but many find her “Odd.”
FORCE POWERS:
N/A
SKILLS: Ship and weaponry engineer of great talent.
LIGHTSABER/SWORD FORMS:
N/A
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES:
Strengths: Tech work, ship and armor customization and manufacturing, weapon calibrations, hacking- ranged weapons.
Weaknesses: Social cues, Keeping quiet, humbleness, physical altercations/ melee. She is nearly night blind as her home planet’s sun never sets.
GEAR: Custom combat suit:
Flight capabilities not possible at the moment, portable communicator and shades used to adjust light to her eye’s sensitivity. Increases strenght and durability.
SHIP:
“weeping reaper”
PETS:
N/A
PERSONALITY: Uninhibited and eccentric, confident and occasionally acting in ways socially unacceptable for many sentient species with concerns about hygiene ( She’d sooner eat food found on the city streets then let it go to waste) Pashka lives as only those with an approaching expiration date can- to the fullest, no matter the cost.
HISTORY:
It is a subject of debate whether the onset of Stockholm syndrome or a couple’s mutual love is held responsible for Pashka’s birth. What is certain however is that she inherited her father’s barbarous manners and her mother’s keen intellect. The product of an oafish raider and his beautiful captive she was raised with a balance of encouragement to disregard authority yet command it…thus was the philosophy of a rebellious man wanted in several systems and admitted “protective father.”
Her mother said very little and frowned even less so. She was of a cheery manner but undeniably detached from reality; she detested conflict and avoided it with either silence or crazed refusal of it. It is rumored she was an experienced hyper drive engineer prior to meeting her husband…
Pashka left the Hape’s cluster when she was nearly fifteen, funded by her father and his outspoken fear of her “being stuck there” Namely amongst the primarily male population and little room for a young woman to make anything of herself but the wife of a smuggler- she found work on Coruscant. There she apprenticed with a friend of her father’s (Camillo Carlo, a Kiffar of forty years-twenty of them spent in the field)
who made a successful living as an armor manufacturer and designer for combat or even decorative purposes. As she moved onto engineer and test said armor she expanded Carlo’s wares to weaponry . Her free time was spent repairing and modifying old ship’s and she was acclaimed for doing so.
two years later the numbness began. It was largely ignored until she was 25 and received the news-Quannot's syndrome was attacking her nervous system. She could die at any moment. It was knowledge she would keep locked away but those around her quickly took noticed her increased recklessness.
She began testing her ships and armor personally (rather then the cautious use of droids). She feared nothing.
KILLS:
N/A
DUELING RING MATCHES:
N/A
GRAND TOURNAMENT MATCHES:
N/A.
ROLE-PLAYS: