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The Pain-Bearer
NAME - Chrysothemis Eisheth Cala'dan Atreides
FACTION - The Lords of the Fringe
RANK - Apprentice
SPECIES - Sorrusian
AGE - 22
SEX - Female
HEIGHT - 5' 10"
WEIGHT - 140 pounds
EYES - Jet Black
HAIR - Chestnut
SKIN - Bronze
FORCE SENSITIVE - ...mhhmmmm...
...lovely to look at...
Beauty is a weapon...sharper than any blade when wielded properly. I know how best to utilize mine, and I trust in my ability to disarm you with a single, heated glance. You'll thank me as you lay bleeding out on the floor.
There is some uncertainty as to why this is so, but my skin always heals clean. It does not scar, no matter how horrifying the injury...and believe me when I tell you that I have tried. Not even a marque inked into my skin by a Master Marquist will remain for very long. A curse, perhaps...but a gift, nonetheless.
...between a rock and a hard place...
I am Sorrusian...my people are a near-human race that evolved on the planet Sorrus. Our skeletons are uniquely elastic and compressible. I can compress myself through spaces most others cannot, and it also lends itself to a most fascinating degree of flexibility. Make of that latter part what you will, dear reader.
...when pain and pleasure become one...
I have an incredibly high pain threshhold. It far surpasses most sentients that I have come across in my travels these last few years. But though I possess it, I very rarely call upon it to bolster me. I prefer to revel in it, to immerse myself in the pain and the pleasure that will inevitably follow. It is a wantonly glorious thing, be it my pain, or yours...
...you cannot speak ill of my family...
I will dissect you first and kill you later, if at all...my family is sacrosanct and is not to be defamed in any way. No matter that we were exiled from our homeworld for our sadistic beliefs and desires...no matter that I am the only one left living. Speak ill of them, and you will feel the wrath of one who will savor every drop of your blood and every melodic scream I will tear from your throat.
...a heart? perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...
There is a heart within my chest, though it is long since hollowed out to a useless husk that barely beats at all. I am proper, possessed of perfect manners and decorum, and devoid of most emotions...they are not worth the trouble that hides in their wake. There might someday come a reason for me to be wary of this useless organ, however, and that day...well. Won't it be interesting?
Standing 5' 10" in bare feet, Chrysothemis is proud of her voluptuous figure. Curvy in all the right places, she dresses to accentuate her...assets. She considers her body a temple, and treats it accordingly. Long chestnut waves fall well past her shoulders, while jet black eyes gaze out from features sculpted in warm bronze skin.
She has no scars, in spite of her best efforts to the contrary, and no tattoos either. She does have piercings, however - one in each earlobe, one up higher along the curve of each ear, one in her naval, and a pair of thick, silver barbell-style piercings, one through the palm of each hand.
Oh my poor darling...they sent you to record this, did they? Do not fret...I shall not harm you. I could not even if I wished it. I was cursed- *the rich, melodic voice dissolves into a severe coughing fit, from which it takes several minutes to recover*
Forgive me...I...I am not well. I have not been for some time. I am - was - beautiful, once *the heavy drag of chains sounds, emanating from the deepest portion of the shadows in the tiny stone chamber*. Before they took everything away. Everything...if you could only se what they- what he did to me.
No. Do not approach. This one thing I ask of you. Leave me be here in the shadows, and I shall tell you everything they want to know *the chains stop, sounding as if they were so many serpents coiling atop one another*.
The best place to start is the beginning, as ever. I was born on Sorrus, the fifth of nine children. We were not a wealthy family, and in fact, we were among the poorest in our tiny village. We were looked down upon so harshly...but my mother always taught us to hold our heads up and walk forward, one step at a time...if they can't see you hurting, little one, they will tire of taunting you. She was right, of course, my mother. I learned to walk with a slow, deliberate pace, my shoulders back, and my head held high.
As it turns out, we were not long meant to stay on our beloved homeworld. Our family was exiled, forced to leave the only home any of us children had ever known, to set off across the stars. It was difficult, those first few months, with little to eat and no place deemed worthy to alight from the ship. Eventually we settled on Bakura, where they've been ever since.
Hmm? My abilities? No...you mean our abilities. We were all so gifted with the Force. The...the pain? No. That was only me. That has been my gift and my curse to bear alone. I would have it no other way.
You're right, I've diverged from the tale. But there is little of interest to continue on, there. It was difficult to punish someone who enjoyed the kiss of the lash and the sweet burn of a blade laying open her flesh. As I grew, so too did my desires grow and darken. I knew I was meant to serve a different purpose, and when I was twenty, I left home. I wandered the stars for nearly two years before I found the Fringe. Before I found someone like me.


The Pain-Bearer
Total Threads: 3 | Completed: 1

Training Threads
Total: 1 | Completed: 0

  • Daybreak (first training thread with Lucianus)
Teaching Threads
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Faction Threads
Total: 1 | Completed: 0

  • Dark Nebula (mission led by [member="Alen Na'Varro"])
Duel Threads
Total: 0 | Completed: 0

Development Threads
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Miscellaneous Threads
Total: 1 | Completed: 1