Barzhura the Hutt
The Painted Matron
✶ Barzhura the Hutt ✶
"The Painted Matron"
"The Painted Matron"
Name: Barzhura Besadii Kajidic
Species: Hutt
Gender (Social Role): Female
Affiliation: Besadii Kajidic, Hutt Cartel
Homeworld: Nal Hutta
Occupation: Crime Lord, Shadow Broker, Matriarch of Luxury Trade
Appearance
Barzhura is built in the same colossal mold as Jabba, her brownish-yellow hide glistening with perfumed oils under golden light. She has no visible ears, her massive body flowing seamlessly into a slug-like bulk. Her face is caked with gaudy blue powders, smeared kohl liner, and glossy crimson lips.
She wears a jeweled ruby diadem and golden chains across her folds, with ornate rings adorning her stubby digits. She is grotesque yet regal — a living parody of majesty.
Her throne room is drenched in decadence: stained-glass skylights, mosaics of conquest, braziers burning perfumed smoke, and Twi'lek attendants bearing trays of wine and fruit.
She wears a jeweled ruby diadem and golden chains across her folds, with ornate rings adorning her stubby digits. She is grotesque yet regal — a living parody of majesty.
Her throne room is drenched in decadence: stained-glass skylights, mosaics of conquest, braziers burning perfumed smoke, and Twi'lek attendants bearing trays of wine and fruit.
Personality
- Maternal Tyrant: Calls her underlings "my jewels" and "my children," veiling cruelty in honeyed affection.
- Theatrical Manipulator: Treats every court audience like a staged performance, using spectacle as a weapon.
- Superstitious Ritualist: Obsessed with omens; believes her paints and jewels ward off death.
- Collector of the Galaxy: Defines power through ownership — every relic, creature, and servant is part of her dominion.
Motivations
1. Legacy of Beauty and Fear: To be remembered as the Hutt who ruled through grotesque majesty, not filth.
2. Superstitious Salvation: Believes her ritual cosmetics and jeweled charms stave off death, her greatest fear.
3. Absolute Ownership: Every rare artifact, exotic slave, and beast she collects is another fragment of the galaxy she "owns."
4. Resentment of the Old Guard: Determined to prove rival Hutts wrong — that her decadent theatrics are not weakness, but a new form of power.
2. Superstitious Salvation: Believes her ritual cosmetics and jeweled charms stave off death, her greatest fear.
3. Absolute Ownership: Every rare artifact, exotic slave, and beast she collects is another fragment of the galaxy she "owns."
4. Resentment of the Old Guard: Determined to prove rival Hutts wrong — that her decadent theatrics are not weakness, but a new form of power.
Strengths
- Overwhelming presence and theatrical dominance
- Vast wealth and resources across Hutt Space
- Skilled manipulator and diplomat
- Broker of rare artifacts, luxury goods, and forbidden treasures
Weaknesses
- Blinded by vanity and obsession with spectacle
- Vulnerable to manipulation through her superstitions
- Physically sluggish and dependent on guards
- Resented and undermined by rival kajidics
Quirks & Habits
- Applies her makeup in silence as a sacred ritual
- Records omens and dreams in cosmetic "journals"
- Refers to attendants as "ornaments" or "treasures"
- Laughs at tragedy as though it were staged for her amusement
Roleplay Hooks
- Audience of the Matron: Negotiating in her jewel-studded palace.
- Secrets in Paint: Rumors claim her cosmetics are laced with Sith alchemy.
- Rival Kajidics: Enemies plotting her downfall offer chances for betrayal and intrigue.
- Collector's Vault: Her troves of artifacts, slaves, and beasts tempt smugglers and thieves.
- False Motherhood: She may "adopt" useful pawns, showering them with gifts while binding them in obligation.
History
I was not spawned to be ordinary. Even in the brood-pits of Nal Hutta, I knew my siblings would squabble over spice, weapons, and slaves, just as Hutts have always done. But I — I saw a different path. From the moment I first smeared pigment across my hide, I understood that power is not just what one holds, but how one is seen. Where others wallow in filth, I drape myself in jewels. Where others grunt, I perform. I would not be forgotten as another faceless slug in the kajidic; I would be remembered as Barzhura, the Painted Matron.
Those who mocked me in my youth have long since vanished — some sold to distant mines, others displayed as "accidents" in my galleries of grotesque art. Every rival who laughed at my gaudy paints or my silken halls has been silenced. Fear and spectacle are my weapons, and they cut deeper than blasters. When I host an audience, every glance, every jewel, every painted line on my face is a dagger turned toward the hearts of my enemies. I collect more than wealth — I collect dominance, piece by piece, soul by soul.
My power grew not through war fleets, but through the markets others overlooked. The Republic and the Empire alike craved luxuries forbidden to them — perfumes, stolen art, exotic beasts, relics whispered to be Sith or Jedi. And who but Barzhura could provide them with such treasures? Senators begged for my shipments; Imperial officers lined their palaces with my wares. I became indispensable, the jewel-broker of the stars, the matron whose hand reached into every forbidden pleasure of the galaxy.
And still, my empire expands. I sponsor the podraces on Tatooine, not for sport, but to break the riders and add their names to my collections. I keep slaves not only for labor, but as ornaments — each one a reminder that the galaxy itself kneels to me. They call me vain, superstitious, grotesque. Let them. Vanity is power, superstition is armor, and grotesquerie is majesty. When history speaks of the Hutts, they will not recall the bloated crime lords wallowing in filth. They will remember me, Barzhura — painted in glory, crowned in fear, and eternal.
"Serve me well… and perhaps you shall shine among my treasures."