Aspiring Jedi
NAME: Alysara Sansiri
FACTION: None
RANK: None
SPECIES: Human
AGE: 14 Galactic Standard
SEX: Female
HEIGHT: 1.54 metres
WEIGHT: 105lbs
EYES: Blue
HAIR: Blonde, worn long
SKIN: Pale, white
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes
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STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES :
Strengths
Always mildly sarcastic, Alysara has a fiery personality when pressed, often needing to stand up for herself and having few qualms about doing so. Her quick, snappy retorts in conversation can lead her to sounding fairly abrasive at moments, but it has also enabled her to cope with many situations which might otherwise place her in danger, or at least at a conversational disadvantage.
Agile and dextrous, Alysara is light on her feet and excellent at running, swimming and climbing. She has considerable faith in her physical abilities, and though she would not describe herself as being strong, she knows how to put her body mechanics to good use. Surviving in a often-hostile environment has required her to hone many of these skills in order to stay one step ahead of predators and those who might otherwise seek to exploit someone in so vulnerable position.
She has always has an uncanny level of intuition when it comes to being in danger: though she has never been able to entirely explain it, Alysara is often able to intuit that another person means her harm, simply by watching them for a time. This has helped her to avoid many moments of potential conflict, and it is something she knows herself to be very dependent upon.
Weaknesses
Quick-tempered and feisty, Alysara tends to be quick to offer a snappy retort or sarcastic remark when called for. However, she tends to express her anger mutely, keeping it pent up inside rather than directing it outwardly - the usual signs tending more towards a change of facial expression and a sudden unrelenting silence, since she prefers to keep her feelings to herself unless challenged by another or comfortable with those in her company.
Her personality tends mostly towards 'blunt instrument', and Alysara is very much disinclined to hold her tongue when she has an opinion to share, and she quite often expresses displeasure or annoyance in very frank terms, which doesn't entirely endear her to others. However, she does work to hard to maintain most of the relationships that actually interest her, and believes it important to cultivate a small handful of relationships, if only to increase odds of survival in an environment naturally hostile.
Although physically agile, Alys is not particularly strong, and finds herself easily overpowered by others in terms of physical strength, particularly by men, so she has a considerable disadvantage in confrontations, something she actively seeks to avoid unless provoked.
APPEARANCE:
Wiry and athletic, Alysara does little to stand out in terms of physicality, looking a little undernourished in certain lights, and hardly carrying the appearance of one who has much in the way of spare fat on her frame. Often forced to dress in unremarkable clothing, often loose-fitting jumpsuits or pants and jackets, she does very little in terms of giving way to feminine vanity, more often than not finding her face and hair a little dusty, rather than accoutered with make-up or cosmetics, not that she could afford them anyway. Her blonde hair tends to be worn long, but tied up in a messy bundle half the time, simply to keep it out of the way.
She can often be found carrying a small, worn satchel bag containing the few personal possessions she cares not to lose: a small knife for protection or cutting purposes; what spare clothing she has been able to scrounge or steal outright; a children's datapad that enables her to tap into public data terminals; and perhaps a few day's worth of food, not always fresh or particularly nutritious, but sufficient to keep herself going.
BIOGRAPHY:
Eriadu isn't the nicest of planets. Great if you're into all that high-tech industrial stuff, and can afford to play with it, but if you're not, you're pretty much living in the shadow of people a hell of a lot richer than you. And most of them will turn their noses up at you, too. Makes stealing from them a little more satisfying, unless you're caught, in which case you're just lucky if they get their security guys to just throw you back into the street. Most aren't that lucky, so you either have to be really smart or really lucky to get by.
And, no, it's not a great place to grow up. I suppose, if you've got credits, you can go to fancy schools, live in big houses in the nicer parts of the big cities, get delicious meals provided regularly by an army of servants all dressed in fancy suits that probably cost more than a year's scrounging on the streets. Probably more like two years, but maybe one if you're good at it.
Anyway, no, there's not much to tell if you're looking for history. Mom...well, if you figure out who she is, let me know, so I can throw a rock at her. She up and vanished before I got to know her, and Dad doesn't like to talk about it, or really much of anything, now I think about it. Not that we've talked in a long time: I don't really go back there. Wouldn't surprise me if he'd neglected eating long enough to starve to death. Happens to people with a passion and no sense of reality. We're living on a planet surrounded by heavy industry, and what does he do? He's a painter.
He's actually a good one, you know. Not the type you see in those big fancy art galleries with all the stylish duracrete pillars and the massive doorways and lots of security to stop you going in if you don't look like you belong. But the kind that somehow figured out what he was doing without going to one of those expensive schools that teach you how you have to frame the light or whatever. It's his passion, his reason for being around, I guess: makes you wonder how he extracted himself from his workbench and paints long enough to have kids. Maybe Mom figured that out afterwards, and learned the same thing I did: everything that distracts from a passion just has to get shut out.
So that's what happened to me, anyway. I never figured out how I managed to get by in the early years that I don't really remember, 'cause Dad was never the type to pull in a lot of credits. The little place he's got is covered with canvases of weird people or places I don't think are even on Eriadu. Maybe he managed to pawn a few of them off on some dupe that let him get enough food to keep us in one piece, and maybe pay the rent. But I don't really want to know: all I know these days is that I have to fend for myself. Haven't seen the old man in months, and I'm better off. It's weird to say it, but I couldn't take it, having to keep fading into the background, less important than the background of some damn canvas.
The streets aren't really safe, but you learn to get by, you know? You get to know who's safe to talk to, who you can sell a few things that maybe aren't really yours, maybe enough to buy a space to sleep for a night or two, or food enough to get you through a few more days. You know who might have a few jobs for someone who is hungry and not too picky about where the next meal comes from. You get to know the other kids on the street that stay together to try and stay safe, and you know to avoid the places where all the adults hang out at night that definitely aren't safe after dark, when the drunk ones come out wanting entertainment, or a fight. And you learn not to talk to strangers, because some of them don't really care about you (even when they say they do), but they still want things from you. You learn not to trust promises.
Oh, and you never go anywhere without a knife. Only a real idiot would walk around without one. It's easy to get jumped by someone that'll want your jacket or whatever you've got in your pockets. Life is cheap, and death is even cheaper, so if you're not careful, you'll get that last one just 'cause someone else has figured you for an easy mark. Gotta always make sure they know you've got a bite. Or you're toast.
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ROLE-PLAYS:
None Yet.
FACTION: None
RANK: None
SPECIES: Human
AGE: 14 Galactic Standard
SEX: Female
HEIGHT: 1.54 metres
WEIGHT: 105lbs
EYES: Blue
HAIR: Blonde, worn long
SKIN: Pale, white
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES :
Strengths
Always mildly sarcastic, Alysara has a fiery personality when pressed, often needing to stand up for herself and having few qualms about doing so. Her quick, snappy retorts in conversation can lead her to sounding fairly abrasive at moments, but it has also enabled her to cope with many situations which might otherwise place her in danger, or at least at a conversational disadvantage.
Agile and dextrous, Alysara is light on her feet and excellent at running, swimming and climbing. She has considerable faith in her physical abilities, and though she would not describe herself as being strong, she knows how to put her body mechanics to good use. Surviving in a often-hostile environment has required her to hone many of these skills in order to stay one step ahead of predators and those who might otherwise seek to exploit someone in so vulnerable position.
She has always has an uncanny level of intuition when it comes to being in danger: though she has never been able to entirely explain it, Alysara is often able to intuit that another person means her harm, simply by watching them for a time. This has helped her to avoid many moments of potential conflict, and it is something she knows herself to be very dependent upon.
Weaknesses
Quick-tempered and feisty, Alysara tends to be quick to offer a snappy retort or sarcastic remark when called for. However, she tends to express her anger mutely, keeping it pent up inside rather than directing it outwardly - the usual signs tending more towards a change of facial expression and a sudden unrelenting silence, since she prefers to keep her feelings to herself unless challenged by another or comfortable with those in her company.
Her personality tends mostly towards 'blunt instrument', and Alysara is very much disinclined to hold her tongue when she has an opinion to share, and she quite often expresses displeasure or annoyance in very frank terms, which doesn't entirely endear her to others. However, she does work to hard to maintain most of the relationships that actually interest her, and believes it important to cultivate a small handful of relationships, if only to increase odds of survival in an environment naturally hostile.
Although physically agile, Alys is not particularly strong, and finds herself easily overpowered by others in terms of physical strength, particularly by men, so she has a considerable disadvantage in confrontations, something she actively seeks to avoid unless provoked.
APPEARANCE:
Wiry and athletic, Alysara does little to stand out in terms of physicality, looking a little undernourished in certain lights, and hardly carrying the appearance of one who has much in the way of spare fat on her frame. Often forced to dress in unremarkable clothing, often loose-fitting jumpsuits or pants and jackets, she does very little in terms of giving way to feminine vanity, more often than not finding her face and hair a little dusty, rather than accoutered with make-up or cosmetics, not that she could afford them anyway. Her blonde hair tends to be worn long, but tied up in a messy bundle half the time, simply to keep it out of the way.
She can often be found carrying a small, worn satchel bag containing the few personal possessions she cares not to lose: a small knife for protection or cutting purposes; what spare clothing she has been able to scrounge or steal outright; a children's datapad that enables her to tap into public data terminals; and perhaps a few day's worth of food, not always fresh or particularly nutritious, but sufficient to keep herself going.
BIOGRAPHY:
Eriadu isn't the nicest of planets. Great if you're into all that high-tech industrial stuff, and can afford to play with it, but if you're not, you're pretty much living in the shadow of people a hell of a lot richer than you. And most of them will turn their noses up at you, too. Makes stealing from them a little more satisfying, unless you're caught, in which case you're just lucky if they get their security guys to just throw you back into the street. Most aren't that lucky, so you either have to be really smart or really lucky to get by.
And, no, it's not a great place to grow up. I suppose, if you've got credits, you can go to fancy schools, live in big houses in the nicer parts of the big cities, get delicious meals provided regularly by an army of servants all dressed in fancy suits that probably cost more than a year's scrounging on the streets. Probably more like two years, but maybe one if you're good at it.
Anyway, no, there's not much to tell if you're looking for history. Mom...well, if you figure out who she is, let me know, so I can throw a rock at her. She up and vanished before I got to know her, and Dad doesn't like to talk about it, or really much of anything, now I think about it. Not that we've talked in a long time: I don't really go back there. Wouldn't surprise me if he'd neglected eating long enough to starve to death. Happens to people with a passion and no sense of reality. We're living on a planet surrounded by heavy industry, and what does he do? He's a painter.
He's actually a good one, you know. Not the type you see in those big fancy art galleries with all the stylish duracrete pillars and the massive doorways and lots of security to stop you going in if you don't look like you belong. But the kind that somehow figured out what he was doing without going to one of those expensive schools that teach you how you have to frame the light or whatever. It's his passion, his reason for being around, I guess: makes you wonder how he extracted himself from his workbench and paints long enough to have kids. Maybe Mom figured that out afterwards, and learned the same thing I did: everything that distracts from a passion just has to get shut out.
So that's what happened to me, anyway. I never figured out how I managed to get by in the early years that I don't really remember, 'cause Dad was never the type to pull in a lot of credits. The little place he's got is covered with canvases of weird people or places I don't think are even on Eriadu. Maybe he managed to pawn a few of them off on some dupe that let him get enough food to keep us in one piece, and maybe pay the rent. But I don't really want to know: all I know these days is that I have to fend for myself. Haven't seen the old man in months, and I'm better off. It's weird to say it, but I couldn't take it, having to keep fading into the background, less important than the background of some damn canvas.
The streets aren't really safe, but you learn to get by, you know? You get to know who's safe to talk to, who you can sell a few things that maybe aren't really yours, maybe enough to buy a space to sleep for a night or two, or food enough to get you through a few more days. You know who might have a few jobs for someone who is hungry and not too picky about where the next meal comes from. You get to know the other kids on the street that stay together to try and stay safe, and you know to avoid the places where all the adults hang out at night that definitely aren't safe after dark, when the drunk ones come out wanting entertainment, or a fight. And you learn not to talk to strangers, because some of them don't really care about you (even when they say they do), but they still want things from you. You learn not to trust promises.
Oh, and you never go anywhere without a knife. Only a real idiot would walk around without one. It's easy to get jumped by someone that'll want your jacket or whatever you've got in your pockets. Life is cheap, and death is even cheaper, so if you're not careful, you'll get that last one just 'cause someone else has figured you for an easy mark. Gotta always make sure they know you've got a bite. Or you're toast.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ROLE-PLAYS:
None Yet.