Keira Priest
The Iron
"You silly little girl, you've survived so long survival shouldn't hurt anymore.
You keep trying to turn your body bulletproof.
You keep trying to turn your heart into a bomb shelter.
Stop, darling.
You are soft and alive. You bruise and heal. Cherish it.
It is what you were born to do.
It will not be beautiful, but the truth never is.
Come now, you promised yourself.
You promised you'd live through this."
Themes:
Name: Keira Jaymes Priest
Faction: N/A
Rank: N/A
- Mand'alor the Iron (former)
- Warmaster (former)
- Commander of the Second Grand Army of the Republic (former)
- Warmarshal (former)
- Al'nau'ramikad (former)
- Secretary of the Red Ravens (former)
Age: 44
Sex: Female
Height: 5’9”
Weight: 130 lbs
Force sensitive: Force Dead
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Strengths:
+ Leader.
+ Above average strategist.
+ Though not an eloquent speaker by any means, she knows how to get what she wants.
+ Conditioned warrior.
Middle ground:
+/- Tenaciously stubborn.
+/- Cybernetic left arm and right leg.
Weaknesses:
- A wanderer at heart, she’s not the best at maintaining close, personal relationships.
- Has the capacity to be arrogant and overestimate her own skill.
- Impulsive decision maker.
- Mental scars to match the physical ones.
- Limp in her left leg due to it being broken in multiple places. Not overly pronounced, but it has the capacity to be a hindrance.
Other:
* Family: Reid and Kaya Zambrano-Ticon (twin son and daughter), Desric Ticon-Sedaire (son), Dani Ticon (older sister), Nikola Ticon (younger brother) Tabitha Ticon (younger sister), Alkor Centaris (younger brother), Ginnie Dib (younger sister), Torin Verd (cousin).
* Fluent in Old Corellian and Mando'a.
Appearance:
If there is one word Keira would choose to describe herself, one plane of existence that is the sum of her parts, it would be a warrior. Everything about her speaks to that, from the hardened line of her jaw and haunted look in her eyes, to the hard-won musculature she still retains even after having three children and being out of commission afterwards for a month or more. Brunette hair is shaved down to her scalp, dark eyes with a fire behind them capable of melting beskar. As much as she genuinely has moved on there’s no doubt her past still haunts her, a vague uneasiness never far behind her, a trait most old soldiers seem to share.
The most striking aspect of her appearance is the phrik-plated cybernetic limb that replaces her left arm, metal melding near-seamlessly with flesh, the injury itself over a decade old. Her right leg suffers much of the same, having been cut off at the top of the thigh, though this one is a far newer replacement, admittedly less of a unique model. A minor, faded burn scar stretches across the right side of her jaw, twelve years old but still visible all the same. There is a circular, puckered scar on the right of her abdomen, just as old as the one that cuts across her jaw, and just as stubbornly persistent. Three ropy, raised claw mark scars twist down her right shoulder, memorabilia from her first full-scale battlefield on the jungle world of Kashyyyk. A burn scar from a lightsaber stretches diagonally from the edge of a left shoulder to a half-inch below her collarbone, a reminder of a Sith Lord’s failed attempt to end her life. Numerous small scars from a vibroblade are scattered across her head, covered by her hair and nearly forgotten. A raised ridge of a scar from a bullet twists around her left side, a memento from the Invasion of Wayland. A burn scar from a lightsaber cuts across her abdomen, another from the same weapon beginning at the right side of her throat and cutting diagonally towards her sternum. The only “art” she ever received of her own volition is the tattoo that sprawls across her back.
She’s seen in her armor just as often as not, the beskar'gam having become synonymous with her existence. It’s rare to find her unarmed, and at the bare minimum she’ll possess the Akaa'gai and her pistol. On the rare occasion she doesn't don armor her dress is casual, comprised of loose jeans torn and faded by wear, a tanktop cut out of an old t-shirt, combat boots, and a Corellian leather jacket gifted by her brothers. Even then there’s something about her that hails to the persona of a warrior that never fully retreats from her form, that uneasiness about her fading only on the battlefield.
The most striking aspect of her appearance is the phrik-plated cybernetic limb that replaces her left arm, metal melding near-seamlessly with flesh, the injury itself over a decade old. Her right leg suffers much of the same, having been cut off at the top of the thigh, though this one is a far newer replacement, admittedly less of a unique model. A minor, faded burn scar stretches across the right side of her jaw, twelve years old but still visible all the same. There is a circular, puckered scar on the right of her abdomen, just as old as the one that cuts across her jaw, and just as stubbornly persistent. Three ropy, raised claw mark scars twist down her right shoulder, memorabilia from her first full-scale battlefield on the jungle world of Kashyyyk. A burn scar from a lightsaber stretches diagonally from the edge of a left shoulder to a half-inch below her collarbone, a reminder of a Sith Lord’s failed attempt to end her life. Numerous small scars from a vibroblade are scattered across her head, covered by her hair and nearly forgotten. A raised ridge of a scar from a bullet twists around her left side, a memento from the Invasion of Wayland. A burn scar from a lightsaber cuts across her abdomen, another from the same weapon beginning at the right side of her throat and cutting diagonally towards her sternum. The only “art” she ever received of her own volition is the tattoo that sprawls across her back.
She’s seen in her armor just as often as not, the beskar'gam having become synonymous with her existence. It’s rare to find her unarmed, and at the bare minimum she’ll possess the Akaa'gai and her pistol. On the rare occasion she doesn't don armor her dress is casual, comprised of loose jeans torn and faded by wear, a tanktop cut out of an old t-shirt, combat boots, and a Corellian leather jacket gifted by her brothers. Even then there’s something about her that hails to the persona of a warrior that never fully retreats from her form, that uneasiness about her fading only on the battlefield.
Distinguishing marks:
- Cybernetic left arm.
- Cybernetic right leg.
- Minor burn scar that spiderwebs across her jaw on the right side of her face.
- A circular, puckered scar on her right side from being shot with a crossbow.
- Three ropy claw mark scars on her right shoulder.
- A burn scar that stretches diagonally from the edge of her left shoulder to a half inch below her collarbone.
- Numerous small scars on her head, covered by her hair.
- The raised ridge of a scar from a graze with a bullet that twists around her left side.
- Burn scar from a lightsaber across the front of her abdomen.
- Scar that begins at the right side of her throat and cuts diagonally towards her sternum from a lightsaber.
- Limp in her left leg courtesy of a certain Vong overlord.
- Scar between her shoulderblades from a tomahawk.
- Tattoo on her back, from shoulderblade to shoulderblade.
- Scar at the joint of her right shoulder that has caused lasting nerve damage.
As a child Keira was rather ordinary, with no fantastical aspirations to become a hero of the galaxy or a willingness to travel exceptionally far, never to return. Never did she consider herself anyone special, and growing up on Corellia she never really had a reason to think otherwise. Green through and through, the only thing that perhaps set her apart was her stubborn and relentlessly persistent attitude. But even that was commonplace among others of the Ticon bloodline, and so was regarded as a typical facet of her personality. It was to be expected.
What wasn't, however, was her joining the Jedi. Her Force sensitivity had been known since she was around eight years old, and, belonging to a largely criminal family, her talents were utilized in that field for the betterment of herself and those about her, for their own personal gain and nothing more. But when the Republic's Order approached her one day in the form of a Jedi Knight that had been on-planet beforehand, she accepted the offer of a different life, one with meaning. And so she was brought to the Temple on Ossus, the new environment coming as nothing short of a culture shock.
In comparison to the rough and tumble way of life that encompassed the equally ragged around the edges planet she called home, Ossus was as clean-cut as they came. The Temple itself was plain, her quarters ascetic, robes and clothing allotted identical to nearly every other sentient present. The Code she was taught was just as dogmatic and bland, and to make matters worse she was expected to abide by it. But she played along, for a time, hoping to one day access the ability she had been promised, all the while wanting to do good for the galaxy as a whole. That was the purpose of her being there in the first place, after all.
However, nothing lasts forever. At the age of sixteen, after being in the Order for four years, she left. Of course, it wasn't quite so simple. She had tired of the rules and regulations that were required to follow, tired of the constant expectations seeming to hang relentlessly over her shoulder. And so one night she stole away, taking nothing more than the clothes on her back, her lightsaber and enough supplies to survive for a week. Without so much as a goodbye letter she left, leaving no trace of her ever having existed in the first place other than the empty room left behind, stripped bare of all signs of life.
For a time, that sufficed. Free of all obligation once more she settled for wandering the galaxy, still doing good in her own way, intervening in scenarios that required some sort of moderation. As a rogue Force sensitive she answered to no Council or higher-up, listening only to her own morality and occasionally the needs of others.
"You were born broken. That is your birthright."
Roleplays (Roughly IC chronological order):
Explosions
Family Matters
How I Met Your Master
Nothing But Trouble
Grand Teth Auto
Orrazerus Blitz
Enigma Prime - Setting Out Where No Man Has Gone Before
The Ravens Who Stole Christmas
Making the Jump - ACT I - Red Ravens, The Reaver Campaign
An Unexpected Visitor: Tracking Talent Pt. 2
Arriving In Darkness
Die and Rise
Damaged
Elective Amnesia
Ain't No Party Like a Red Ravens Party
Been Caught Stealing
Ravens In Wonderland
Red Ravens Dominion of Syvris
Hutt Tub Time Machine
Call It Like You See It
Welcome to the Jungle
Show 'Em the Ropes
How to Be a Bad Guy 101
Talk Nerdy to Me
Ravens and Wizards
Say Hello to a Deal They Can't Refuse, Also Untouchables and Some Other Movie
Telos the Truth
Bottoms Up!
Personal Space
Those In Glass Houses
Party Monsters
Do Your Worst
Curiosity Killed the Raven
The Smuggler's Moon
Walking the Highwire Between Order and Chaos
Training: Coruscant
When Alcohol Isn't Enough
The Dark Side. And The Light.
Dance Into The Fire
Light Me Up
Your Blue Nightmare
Ravens; Respite and Revenge
The Danger In Starting A Fire
Virtual Insanity
The Golden Nautolan
Living History...
Depths of the Smuggler's Moon
Back to Normal Now
Crystals and Candy and Chaos
Bang Bang
Crime and Business
Irkallin Be the Death of Me
It's Time
Bullet Time
To Kill a Raven
Outer Demons
Elrood By Starlight
The Magnificent Probably More Than Seven
When Mandalorians Attack!
A Bastion of Monsters
Lost & Found
We are The Primeval
Fly High, Die High
Cults and Cathedrals
Developing Negative
A Cold, Dark Place
Z is for Ziost!
To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
Queens of Chaos
Just One Big Junkyard
They Might Be Gas Giants
A Trail Beyond Shadows - Hell in the Headspace
Best Friends for Never
And That's How the Fight Started
I, the Jury
Come Rain on My Parade
Tools for Vengeance
The Ziost Affair
Cigarettes & Saints
Gotta Get That Boom-Boom-Pow
Rains of Contruumere
Down on the West Coast, They Got Their Ticons
A Good Day to Die Hard
Far From Home
Dying of the Light
The Best Date Ever!
Primordial Chaos
Control of the Giant Mushroom!
"Force-inar"
Loose Ends
The Wild Dark
Guess Who
The Force? Don't Be Silly!
Shadow of the Republic
Wolves on Lothal
Home Is Where the Heart Is
The Stars That Bound Us...
The Wheat and the Chaff
The Reckoning
Not the Hero This City Needs, But the Villain It Deserves!
There but for the Grace of the Force, Go I...
They Say the Soul Don't Die, but Mine's Been Dead for my Whole Life
Son of the Light v. Daughter of the Dark
The Audacity of Despair
I Pledge Myself to Your Teachings
Long Hard Road Out of Hell
War! What Is It Good For?
Death of a Dynasty
And Their Name Was Treason
We, the Scarred
Walking Into the Wolves' Den
Truth, Honor, Vision
The Serpent's Fangs
Now THAT Was Punk Rock
Rock You Like a Hurrikane
Mando Spaghetti Western
All in the Footwork
Alderaan Civil War
New Commander of Republic Forces
One for the Money, Two for the Show
And Mandalore Will Answer
I Pledge Allegiance...
It's Dangerous to Go Alone...
The Trial of Ali Hadrix
Fine, I'll Go to You Then!
Wheel of Fortune!!
Here's Your Housewarming Gift, Jerk
All I Wanna Do Is Take Your Money
Star's End, Crusade's Start
Nice Servers You Got There, Be a Shame if Someone Stole 'Em
Heaven Knows
Ride Sally, Ride
A Wolf Among Us
Where Are Those Plans
It's Just a Shot Away
Let It Burn
Damn Damotite
Invasion of Togoria
Atin'yaim, Home of the Crusaders
Cin Vhetin
Soma
Family Is More Than Blood
Life Lessons (Learned the Hard Way)
Your Promises, They Look Like Lies...
Hell Is Nice This Time of Year
The Great Reclamation
Black Lines to Battlefields
Shouldn't Have Said That One Word
See You Later...
We Good Few
Operation Weedkiller V2
Famous Last Words
A Raid of Iron
Injustice For All
Back in My Day
Chasing Ghosts
The Force Is a Tool
Should Have Taken the Deal
Blood Must Answer Blood
Tick Tick...Boom
The Mandalorian Fight Club
By The Grace Of The Gods
Extending An Olive Branch
Paradise Found, Schutta
Das Mordgeld
Shadows Fall
Learning Under Fire
R&R
Bring The Noise!
Temple Run
Shield Me
The Mandalorian Crusade
Stuck In The Middle With You
More Than Conquerers
Homewreckers
Welcome Home
I Hold Myself In Contempt
The Times, They Are A'Changin'...
Party At the White Palace
Fate of the Duels
Aftermath
From Ashes to New
Dreams Do Come True
The Truth
Slvr & Irn
Hell to Pay
Slvr & Irn II
And There Were Three
New Shoes
The Crusade Effect
Precursor
Light Bearer
Hookers and Blasters; A First Imperial Holiday
Blood on My Name
Adumari Incursion
Tradition Demands It
Criminals vs. Evil Dead
Come Last Call...
Jetii Delenda Est
New Shoes
Journey Through the Rift
End of the Line
If Dreams Can't Come True, Then Just Pretend
Not Your Kind of People
Absolution
A Lone Call
Savior, Devil, Redeemer, Slaver
Castles In Sand
Remembering Myself
The Next Generation
Look Back, but Don't Stare
Human Action
Oderint Dum Metuant
A Colony Rising
A Cluster In Turmoil
As Promised
What Was Lost
Burk'yc Kurs: Dangerous Forests
Poisoned Honey
The Beaten Path
Farewell and into the Inevitable
Lost in Space
Reconquista
From the Ashes
Unity
The Galactic Alliance
Accept It, There's Always a Bigger Fish
In the Crossfire
Remember Everything
A Gift for a Child
The Ticon Family Reunion
Dear Old Friend
Fire. Meat. Spice.
Quality Bonding Time
Homecoming
The Line Part Two: Challenge for Mand'alor
Red vs. Blue
Late Due Retribution
Tell Me Why
A Tale of Two Species
Bloom
Captive Audience
Blood Is Thicker Than Water
A Hope For a Bold New Path
Through the Wreckage
It's Time for the Jedi to End
Come Out, Come Out
A Modest Proposal...
Birthright
I've Been Doing Well
Forgive Me
Deliverance
Band'o'mere Mandos
When Falsehood Can Look Like Truth
Why You Can't Exterminate Us
Sons of Urakto
A Sociph's Bliss
Cannot Forgive, Will Not Forget
For Your Own Good
You'll Think of Me...
What's a Bar like This Doing Around People like Us?
Family Is More Than Blood
Because Reasons
Vode An
The Future is Mandalorian
Our Last Best Hope for Peace
Tatooine Dawn
Not Gone, Merely Marching Far Away
Common Strains
Starship Troopers: A Mandalorian Story
Uncommon Guard
Uncommon Battlecry
Dances With Wookiees
A Day in Keldabe
No Safe Haven
Wue'gi Vod Connections
Trouble in Paradise
Vanquoish Fears
Return of the Republic
Coyote Ugly
The Mandalorian Gambit
You'll Sleep When I Say So
House on Fire
The Coconuts Strike Back!
Torrent Over Slaver Sands
A Mandalorian Disagreement
House on Fire
In the Family Way
First Light
"Tell me, how does it feel to live with your fists curled, always seeking something to fight?
How does it feel to be so rabid, so vicious, so hellbent on making a ruin out of yourself?
How does it feel to be the knife between your own ribs? Darling, you are the war and the battlefield
and there is no victory or glory in bringing yourself to your knees.
They have sung of your rage, see; and none of them have known that most of it is aimed at yourself.
It will always feel hollow,
somewhere, somehow, like you’re full of holes; it will always feel like you’re inadequate.
You must learn to live with it, one way or the other, before you fill the grave you’ve dug.
(You’re choking on the thoughts, half too cowardly and far too proud to end what you began;
but it’s so late, by god, too late – you’re halfway to hell, the flames licking the soles of your feet.
It’s fine, you think. You didn’t know what you wanted when you picked up the axe, anyway.)"
How does it feel to be so rabid, so vicious, so hellbent on making a ruin out of yourself?
How does it feel to be the knife between your own ribs? Darling, you are the war and the battlefield
and there is no victory or glory in bringing yourself to your knees.
They have sung of your rage, see; and none of them have known that most of it is aimed at yourself.
It will always feel hollow,
somewhere, somehow, like you’re full of holes; it will always feel like you’re inadequate.
You must learn to live with it, one way or the other, before you fill the grave you’ve dug.
(You’re choking on the thoughts, half too cowardly and far too proud to end what you began;
but it’s so late, by god, too late – you’re halfway to hell, the flames licking the soles of your feet.
It’s fine, you think. You didn’t know what you wanted when you picked up the axe, anyway.)"
