Griff Loran
The Last True Corellian
[SIZE=16pt]NAME:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Griff Loran[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]FACTION:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Unclaimed[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]RANK:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Driver[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]SPECIES:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Human - Corellia[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]AGE:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]21[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]SEX:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Male[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]HEIGHT:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]6 Feet[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]WEIGHT:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]144 pounds[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]EYES:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Blue[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]HAIR:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Dark Brown[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]SKIN:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]White[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]FORCE SENSITIVE:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Yes, but unaware[/SIZE]
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[SIZE=16pt]STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]+ Excellent Driver[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]+ Gifted Mechanic[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]- [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]Rubbish at soloing a dogfight; Put Griff on a turbolaser and he'll be fine. Put him behind the steering controls and he'll be the best. Try to get him to do both at once? No can do.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]- [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]Trust Issues: After losing his parents to the Death of Corellia and being subjugated to the horrors of Netherworld, Griff's idea of survival is not stepping on the wrong toes and not showing others your real self. He sees his life as a failure, so he'd rather show people another persona before letting them get close enough to potentially see what he sees of himself.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]BIOGRAPHY:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14pt]828 ABY, 56th Day. That’s the day I was born. Dad would tell me that the best part about the timing of my arrival is that it got Mom out of a whole week of work on maternity leave. She would agree, but then smack him nonetheless. “Don’t be like that!”, she’d exclaim. They’d pretend to be upset, but it wasn’t long before their faces each lit up with smiles. Things got fuzzier as I got older…but, I’ll never forget those smiles.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14pt]835 ABY. I’m 7, now, and about to beat the last level of Racing Ratz on my Gameboy Color. The cat “final boss” was so annoying, but I was getting the pattern down. I can hear my father chiding me from downstairs. He’s telling me he needs help in the garage again. Of course, I ignored him over a stupid game. 7 year olds could be dumb and petty like that. It wasn’t until the screen went on the fritz and a chilling message appeared[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]
[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14pt]that I ran downstairs and showed my dad. Maybe he could fix it. He never got around to it because he had to go away on business soon after that same message appeared on all our screens. Thankfully, it sorted itself out and I beat that stupid cat.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14pt]About one month later, Dad came back with a scar on his face. He doesn’t want to talk about it.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14pt]844 ABY, just before 12th Taungsday. I was 16. I went to Hell. Alone. I remember snatches of my time there: enough to torment me when I remember, but not enough to illuminate me. Near the end of my suffering, there was a hand and a bright door. I grabbed it and then it didn’t hurt anymore. I wasn’t home. I wanted to go home, but…home was gone. Mom was gone. Dad was gone. No one knew where or why; only how. These thoughts…I can’t handle it; it hurts to think about it.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14pt]849 ABY. I try not to think about it anymore. I keep my head down and focus on getting away fast and hard. I drive off into the sunset, just like Dad. I drive into the night to get by in life. I don’t know why, but I’m a survivor. I survive to drive and I drive to survive.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]SHIP:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]CEC D-22 “Screamer” Speeder Bike[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Griff Loran[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]FACTION:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Unclaimed[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]RANK:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Driver[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]SPECIES:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Human - Corellia[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]AGE:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]21[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]SEX:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Male[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]HEIGHT:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]6 Feet[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]WEIGHT:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]144 pounds[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]EYES:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Blue[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]HAIR:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Dark Brown[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]SKIN:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]White[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]FORCE SENSITIVE:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Yes, but unaware[/SIZE]
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[SIZE=16pt]STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]+ Excellent Driver[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]+ Gifted Mechanic[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]- [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]Rubbish at soloing a dogfight; Put Griff on a turbolaser and he'll be fine. Put him behind the steering controls and he'll be the best. Try to get him to do both at once? No can do.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]- [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]Trust Issues: After losing his parents to the Death of Corellia and being subjugated to the horrors of Netherworld, Griff's idea of survival is not stepping on the wrong toes and not showing others your real self. He sees his life as a failure, so he'd rather show people another persona before letting them get close enough to potentially see what he sees of himself.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]BIOGRAPHY:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14pt]828 ABY, 56th Day. That’s the day I was born. Dad would tell me that the best part about the timing of my arrival is that it got Mom out of a whole week of work on maternity leave. She would agree, but then smack him nonetheless. “Don’t be like that!”, she’d exclaim. They’d pretend to be upset, but it wasn’t long before their faces each lit up with smiles. Things got fuzzier as I got older…but, I’ll never forget those smiles.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14pt]835 ABY. I’m 7, now, and about to beat the last level of Racing Ratz on my Gameboy Color. The cat “final boss” was so annoying, but I was getting the pattern down. I can hear my father chiding me from downstairs. He’s telling me he needs help in the garage again. Of course, I ignored him over a stupid game. 7 year olds could be dumb and petty like that. It wasn’t until the screen went on the fritz and a chilling message appeared[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]
[SIZE=14pt]that I ran downstairs and showed my dad. Maybe he could fix it. He never got around to it because he had to go away on business soon after that same message appeared on all our screens. Thankfully, it sorted itself out and I beat that stupid cat.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14pt]About one month later, Dad came back with a scar on his face. He doesn’t want to talk about it.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14pt]844 ABY, just before 12th Taungsday. I was 16. I went to Hell. Alone. I remember snatches of my time there: enough to torment me when I remember, but not enough to illuminate me. Near the end of my suffering, there was a hand and a bright door. I grabbed it and then it didn’t hurt anymore. I wasn’t home. I wanted to go home, but…home was gone. Mom was gone. Dad was gone. No one knew where or why; only how. These thoughts…I can’t handle it; it hurts to think about it.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14pt]849 ABY. I try not to think about it anymore. I keep my head down and focus on getting away fast and hard. I drive off into the sunset, just like Dad. I drive into the night to get by in life. I don’t know why, but I’m a survivor. I survive to drive and I drive to survive.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=16pt]SHIP:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]CEC D-22 “Screamer” Speeder Bike[/SIZE]