NAME: Aarrki D'arr HawkFACTION: Witches of Dathomir
RANK: Spellweaver
SPECIES: Human
AGE: 27
GENDER: Female
HEIGHT: 5'7
WEIGHT: 135
EYES: Ice blue (Recessive genes)
HAIR: black (recessive genes)
SKIN: Alabaster with black tattoos lining her body
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes
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STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES (Required: 2 Weaknesses Minimum) :
+ Aarrki is one of the most powerful Force users in the Hawk clan. She was considered to be a prodigy prior to her kidnapping, easily able to manipulate the force. She is noted as being far stronger in the Force than her older sister Ti'Cira D'Arr Hawk even as a spellweaver.
+ She has a severe distan for the Sith, but her time with Noemi has taught her some of their ways.
- Intense utter hatred for her sister Ti'Cira; so much that it consumes her attention and focus and she will stop all she is doing if she heard her sister was near.
- With every dark spell she uses, while powerful, it takes a toll on her body, producing vicious purple bruises across her face, corrupting her from the inside out, cutting her life span shorter and shorter.
- No healing spells known whatsoever.
- Severe hate and dislike of men. Loves to torture them; more so if they were one of the sentients who had taken advantage of her as a child when she was sold into a cafarel house at age 9.
SHIP:
BIOGRAPHY:
Aarrki sat in the cargo hold, her dark eyes boring into Naomi's own purple ones.
"So, a Sith," she said, her voice low, a hint of a growl nestled in its lush tones. "I should have known your kind would attempt to take me. Lead by filth! By men!" she hissed, thrusting an accusing finger at Naomi. Naomi recoiled--she had her own experiences with a man that had left a burning hatred within her--but held onto her confusion. Aarrki, seeing this reflected in Naomi's gaze, snorted haughtily. "You are but a pawn in some grand scheme, a scheme of such pathetic and petty goals," she paused to clench and unclench her hands, "you make me sick," she finished, her whole body trembling with the rage she felt.
Naomi snorted, shook her head. "First of all, shut the frak up! NOBODY plays me!" Naomi barked back, her own anger beginning to simmer. "I am using the Sith to get what I want, is that clear?! The Sith as they are now..." she trailed off, shook her head, "a fake group of idiots lead by some...some..." she trailed off once again, unable to find a word filthy enough to describe Malak. "As slimy as they come," she finished lamely. Aarrki opened her mouth to retort, but Naomi hushed her. "Shut up! Now look! I found you by accident! I...was looking for someone," she said, repeating what she'd told the woman already.
"A man," sneered the other woman. Naomi turned her head sharply...but sighed.
"Yes...the real Dark Lord of the Sith," she continued, sitting down wearily on a crate of RTE meals. At this, Aarrki's distrusting disposition seemed to lighten, but a look of disgust still lingered upon her features. "I...lost him. I went back to the Sith and found those," she made a face, "those traitors had taken over. That scum you seen in the holomessage? He's the...." Naomi paused here as she realized she had no idea what title Izaak actually, truly held. "He's a Big Head in the current Sith fakers".
"Why, then, do you assist him? Even I can see the devious being he is. There is something that shifts in his face, as if lies themselves made up his spirit," Aarrki growled, crossing her arms. "No man is worthy of your help, sister, why do you not see this? And how dare he speak so of Dathomir!" she snarled, rising from her own perch on a similar crate. "How typical for a sniveling male fool to discount the power of the Nightsisters! HA! Truly, he will rue the day..." Naomi sighed, exasperated at the tirade. Aarrki, irked to be interrupted, slammed a hand down on the already-defunct holo table. "Petulant child! Shut your mouth! You know nothing of the Force compared to my own knowledge!"
Naomi, her anger rising to a dangerous level, somehow managed to take a deep breath. "Then teach me," she said.
Aarrki, already flustered, felt her brows rise half-way up off of her forehead and into her lush, dark curls. "What!? So you may aid that idiot in his ridiculous schemes of self-importance? HA! You are not worthy of such teachings! This kind of power," she smiled darkly, lifting a hand. Naomi felt the Force surge, then, that odd mental suggestion of whispering voices reaching her ears as static seemed to crawl and flick across that lifted hand, "is not a tool to be used, sister. It is living! You cannot possibly harness this kind of power as you are!"
"I'm using him!" Naomi snarled at last. Surprised, Aarrki lowered her hand, the Force quieted. "I need his resources! I need his help to bring down the frakking nerf faced son of a Jawa that attacked Rani," she said, once again her words escaping from between clenched teeth. "He is the sort that moves when it benefits him...I seen his type a lot while I worked for--" she paused, refusing to let her say the word father--"for MSR. If I can win his help...slaying Malak would be much easier than if I just stormed in and cut his damned balls off," Naomi grudgingly admitted, though, from her tone, she apparently favored the latter idea.
Aarrki narrowed her eyes, leaned forward. "You are gifted in its currents," she admitted. A smile blossomed.
"Mayhap I can help you...if you help me," she said slyly, the smile of a prowling Kath Hound. "I seek to raze the little criminal empire a certain band of slavers has set up. This little niche of bastards is funded and aided by the Empire, no less, and I would see many a corpse in that ridiculous white armor, as well...I can handle such tasks myself, but time is of the essence...A skilled, properly trained hand such as yours would make the experience much much more pleasurable," she said, giving Naomi another chilling smile.
Naomi returned the smile. "Fine...I help you slaughter these slaver nerfs, you teach me power like yours and help me kill the Sith Slayers," the youth replied, leaning forward on the holotable. "They're lead by this...arrogant echuta, this righteous goody-two-shoes huttslime in a uniform. This blind guy, an idiot rent-a-cop and some spaceport skank...This man, Izaak, wants them dead...and I did swear vengeance on them. I have faced them once, and they took something dear from me," Naomi's eyes seemed to flash with renewed hatred at this last. Aarrki extended her hand. Naomi took it.
"Then we are agreed. Welcome to the Nightsisters. The galaxy itself trembles in our wake," Aarrki said, a mischievous light burning in her eyes.
KILLS:
At last, the tunnel came to a wide open cavern. To call it wide was like calling a Hutt obese; the cavern was big enough to easily store two of Naomi's ships. Instead, the center of the cavern was dominated by a large black mat. The walls of stone had been polished and worn over countless years to a flatness that was at odds with the stony roof. Against one wall was a series of bunks, three of the five bare. In one corner, a pile of what looked like mechanical components overflowed. The other wall had numerous weapons hanging from racks; blasters, blaster rifles, an an RPG launcher. Naomi was clearly intrigued by these, as she ran over to inspect them. "Trophies," Aarrki said, "taken from men whose lives are worth even less than the weapons they carried". Naomi snorted, ran appreciative fingers over gleaming, well-cared for instruments of death.
The back wall of the cave was simply covered in photographs of people. Almost all of them were men; roguish types, clearly smugglers or worse, stormtroopers, even a few big-name politicians. At least a dozen had large red X's drawn across them. Naomi moved over to these and examined them as Aarrki entered another room carved into the stone, a refresher and a quaint little shower its sole purpose. Naomi crossed her arms as she strolled along the wall, closely peering at the men--and even a few women--Aarrki had clearly marked for death.
Hundreds of civilians over five planets; my precious sister's Sithslayer cell along with Naomi Monoe.
I have 387 holopictures.... precious pictures.... some smeared with a red "x" to reference their death at my hand. They paid for what they did to me.
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ROLE-PLAYS: