Lyellvi Ra-Avora

[Lyellvi Ra-Avora]

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=-Lyellvi Ra-Avora-=​

"Do you know what is far more beautiful then all the credits, luxury and fine clothing in the Galaxy? Taking something old and broken apart, giving it love and fair treatment...and making it into something far better then it ever was. Now that is beautiful."​

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[Name]​

Lyellvi Ra-Avora​

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[Alias]​

The Scav​

Lyn'ara Talan (Market Alias)​

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[Assosiation]​

Freelance​

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[Species]​

Selonian​

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[Age]​

29​

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[Sex]​

Female {Infertile Non-Queen}​

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[Height]​

6'2" {1.9m}​

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[Eye Color]​

Black​

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[Hair/Fur Color]​

Sandy brown fur with a white underbelly.​

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[Skin]​

Brown​

[Force Sensitive?]​

Yes​

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{Strengths and Weaknesses}

{+} Careful and fantastically dexterous.	{-}Physically inferior to other Selonians.
{+} Playful and outgoing.	{-} Weary of suspicious sorts.
{+} Tech Savvy and Weapon Savvy	{-}Struggles when it comes to originality.
{+} Deadly with bladed weaponary, compitent with Short-Range Blaster Pistols.	{-} Unable to handle heavy weaponary, turrets or computer guidance.
{+/-} Does not tolerate lying, refuses to outright tell falsehoods.	{+/-} Fiercely loyal, hard to break under pressure and willing to repay a favor.
{+} Passionate, caring and easily finds the best in others.
{-} Easily seduced and often times mistakes admiration for romantic feelings. Prone to heartache.

{Appearance}

Standing only marginally shorter then most average-sized members of her species, Lyellvi is a Selonian baring a lithe and athletic build with a coat of sandy brown colored fur, a white underbelly and darker brown patches of fur over her eyes, across the sides of her legs, arms and thighs. Her fur is sleek, glossy and well tended to, with the fur along her scalp, nape and back left growing far wilder then the rest of her body, at one point giving the impression of a faux head of hair with the same color as the rest of her body, the intent of which appears to be decorative more then anything. Several bead braids can be found along this stretch of fur that each appear to be made out of precious stones found in remote caves on Selonia.

Her features are typical of all Selonians - appearing to resemble an aquatic mammal or mustelid akin to an otter or a ferret, with a short, blunt muzzle and large black nose. To more familiar with the appearance of a Selonian, her facial features are found to be a little on the rounded and sternly blunt side. Her eyes are beady and black with a fine glossy shine to them and she appears to possess small, tapering ears.

Her torso ,waistline and lower body have noticably feminine traits that aide with sexual diamorphism, however there are also signs of significant physical training such as callous spots at the palms and fingertips of her paw-like hands and a noticably muscular overtone beneath the fur. is noticably Whilst many scars and bodily details are hidden, a few noticable marks do stand out. The fur along the right side of her waist appears to have been blackened, with the flesh beneath heavily scarred and blackened, almost as if it had suffered a significant burn. At the bottom of her left paw is a tattoo depicting the Mandabian word 'Witness'. Her legs are digitigrade and muscular in their frame. From the top of her backside extends a hefty half-meter long tail that often moves with wondrous control and helps with both balance and occasional self-defense.





{Personal History}


Is there truelly safety in numbers? What matters more in one's individual life - the betterment of themselves or the betterment of others? No matter what walk of life you spawn forth from within the universe, so long as you are a sentient creature capable of coherent thought, such things must be answered. Lyellvi Ra-Avora, a name given to her by the Queen Nashora of the Arj'jeran Den in honor of a distinguised queen of yore, was certainly not one to be conflicted with those two questions. Safety in numbers was paramount, one lived for the community - for the whole, not the one. Arj'jeran Den, however, despite it's surprisingly numerous populous, was certainly far from the most powerful of Selonia's factions, by all means they were a family united and dedicated to finding their fortune, which they certainly found when it came to one particular aspect - bartering away technology that they themselves trade for, opening a small space port and accomodations for travellers willing to invest in purchasing hard to find knickknacks and utilities.

Of course, all sales were overseen by Queen Nashora and her chosen daughter, who not only acted as a sales representative but also an enforcer. As is typical of one expects when dealing with Selonians, deception and attempting to 'cheat' one's way into a cheap deal was often times met with open and rather vicious hostility, akin to having pulled a weapon on the representative. Worse yet if one lied right to the face of the Queen. Lyellvi was, in a way, no more then a guard when one looked at things technically. Her charge was to watch over the fertile males and break up any disturbances caused by the visitors. Starting from as young as 8, she was trained in the arts of handling the Selonian Warglaive, which soon became not only her weapon of choise but as a Warrior it was also the weapon she had personally created and poured her own heart into. To many off-worlders, it was nothing more then a hunk of metal that was nasty on both ends, but far from useful in a firefight. To her - it was an extension of her wrath. It took her until the age of 15 in order to be fully versed in the ways of the Glaive and before long assumed her full time duties as a guardian warrior, a common trend shared by many of her scept-mates. Six of her sisters assumed their roles defending the Queen's chamber and ensuring the health and survival of her breeding partners. When offence was offered, they were called in to be executioners. An wonderful chance to actually use her blade for something more then training and threatening the unruly.

In time, as the Den aquired a variety of new technology, the Queen even assigned each of her warriors a blaster pistol in order to be able to stand toe to toe with any threats smart enough to come from a distance. Blaster Rifles, sniper rifles and even antique A-106 Scout Disruptors came into their possession, however Lyellvi only requested to learn the ways of wielding a blaster pistol, as she felt that a large weapon along with her already large glaive would be unruly and detrimental. She was not as strong as many of her other sisters and compensated for this with dexterity and aim that proved to be a great advantage.

What else served as a great advantage? Well, what many of her fellow warriors called her 'special talent' for occasionally countering a foe's move based off the assumption of 'knowing it was about to happen' had many other names, however she chose to call it her 'hidden eye'. Ever since her youth, Lyellvi's connection to this hidden sight has allowed her to attain a form of battle precognition and aide her in predicting an opponent's move in combat. Surprise counter attacks were sometimes parried almost as if they were telegraphed to her far earlier...a wayward blaster shot deflected due to prior knowledge of it's trajectory...on some occasions, she had forseen the drawing of a weapon mere seconds before the act was commited. This only ever happened for cases in close proximity and on occasions so sparse that she often was caught off guard. However, this mysterious boon that she often kept to herself had caught her attention. It was clearly not normal - at least not for her kind. In truth, it also brought no shortage of anxiety, as anyone suffering random visions during and before battle would likely feel.

Adding to all this, any time she spent away from her duties as a warrior she spent around the Storage Units, which she used as an opportunity to not only ask those tending to them what they contained - but how the technology operated. It was there that a facination was born. A facination comprised of many scattered, messy parts and old rusted droids. One that in time reminded her of the process of creating her glaive. All of this tech was devised quite similarly, with parts making up the whole. So many uses to it all - and only as varied as the imagination of whomever shapes it. Lyellvi's love of technology became intimate, and often times when curled up for her slumber, she would spend at least a few minutes or even hours tampering with a scanner or memory unit she'd 'borrowed' from storage, promising to not only return it good as new - but in better condition. Having taken notice of her interest, a member of an off-world salvaging crew offered to sell her a small toolkit often used in their profession in exchange for the obsidian mined by members of the local mining scept.

Superior foresight, however, could not help her percieve the events that would transpire a mere month after her turning 19. The Den was not as it used to be. Trade was stale and profits were poor, many whispered fearful rumors that the Den was on the verge of ruination. However this time of distress came quite short lived. Suspiciously short lived, considering the arrival of some quite shady figures. Usually the Queen's decree to keep some distance from a group of travellers usually either meant they were dangerous and soon to be executed or of great importance. However, these seemed to be both, oddly enough. Of such significant importance that even her warriors and Chosen Daughter were ordered to leave her sanctum and begone to where they could speak in peace. Lyellvi's concerns were roused even further when the male she was usually assigned to protect was shifted to another without any established reasons. Worse yet, she was threatened outright when she questioned the order - something she would usually refrain from doing, however with mounting tensions it could not be ignored.

Months passed. Prosperity returned to the Den and riches soon flowed aplenty. As the credits rolled in and the quality of the Den's structures and amenities soon increased exponentially. However there were also certain situations arising. Entire septs were reported missing at one point and a violent outburst by one of the new crews that had become 'regulars' went unpunished by both the Queen and her Enforcer. Finally, curiousity alone was starting to nag at her. Innately suspicious of the unknown crew that had been frequenting the Queen's sanctum - doubly so once she'd learned that they were in fact part of a lesser known group of pirates - soon brought her to disobey a direct order. A painful thing to do, however she was thinking of the greater good. Thus, when the order came to leave them in peace, it was quick legwork, digging claws and a prying tail that helped her retreat to a balcony within the upper portion of the sanctum. Tension swept over her body, coupled with pain and aches from having to cling to such an uncomfortable position, it took an hour of hanging from a stone railing to realize the fears that many refused to believe were true.

Queen Nashora was in fact adamant that the Den was surviving off the patronage of the pirates alone, who were now becoming far more zealous with their demands in order to not only aide in it's prosperity but also to avoid an attack which, as any local warrior would openly bet on, would fail quite quickly. But no - rather then refuse to have her people treated like subordinates, she was openly agreeing to allow illicit activities to occur within the more reclusive parts of the Den. Adding to this, they were 'requisitioning' locals in order to be sold as slaves, including members of the breeding stock and local warriors. In truth, the revelation left her feeling more saddened then angry. There was one of the greatest Queens she'd ever known, her mother and the mother of her people...selling them off to a group of bullies that came to suck every last credit they could out of the free stock they were getting and a free front. Unfortunately, her heavy heart also accepted the reality that she was lied to. A lie. Her Queen lied to her and the others. The thought of it alone was just unimaginable, yet there could be no doubt - the very core of Den Arj'jeran had been corrupted.

The decision came quite swift. She had to leave. There was no way she could assist the Den at that time - especially outnumbered and greatly lacking in the right upper hand. She was not strong enough to even think about turning against the establishment...and in truth, she was also greatly afraid. The thoughts of what had transpired left her with a lingering fear of slavery, not helped by her method of escaping not only the Den but also the entire planet. Stowing away in a large storage container designed to carry exotic fruits, she had a very sweet smelling voyage to the pirate's main vessel, which presented her with the challenge of trying to remain unnoticed as a stow-away for a long, long journey. Finally, with days of climbing through shafts and hiding within the same crate still tormenting her sore body - Lyellvi had overheard two members of the crew gossiping about the fact they were landing at Mos Espa with a cargo that might get them in a bit of trouble if not delivered correctly to a certain local hutt.

She was not intent on finding out exactly what they wanted to do with the slaves. Her concern landed more on the fact she'd now landed on Tatooine, a planet she'd only heard about because of it's popularity with traders...and only ever expected herself to be visiting on business. Yet here she was! Alone, armed with a sharp bladed weapon and a blaster pistol with a few salvaging tools. No more food supplies, no water and no credits. The road ahead certainly did look quite fearsome, didn't it? Yet she was sure there had to be some hope at the end of the road. Survival was one aspect Selonians could offer quite a bit of advise on, thankfully this includes to themselves. She needed to make use of her talents...she would need to blend in with the locals and she would need to find shelter or at least be able to afford it.


Her first few days were not exactly the most successful. Little sleep, instances of petty theft and sometimes outright begging. Thankfully when she presented her skills, a few locals were actually interested in what she had to offer and sent her out on several salvaging missions, most of which she was quite sure were probably illegal. Then again - most of them also were derelict or recently had their crew slain by raiders, who was going to use them? One such operation, however, yielded some interesting results. Derelict ships and large vehicles were always a pleasure to find in the Dunes...however one client had requested that she travel quite a fair ways away into the Dune Sea and to what she soon found was in fact a wrecked Jawa Sandcrawler. Now that was a treasure trove, something she admittedly needed considering her lack of income. A few scores were useful, however she had to both purchase new equipment and maintain her current toolkit - not to mention gather proper machinery for salvage and hire people to help melt down certain items. That didn't even go into the cost of new clothing to help adapt to her environment and comforts such as a place to sleep or food. What really did make this odd for her, however, was that the client, a toydarian for that matter, was sending a lone freelance salvager with - admittedly - lukewarm experience instead of an entire team of trained team. It hounded her mind during her trek, but she tried not to dwell on it. Luck had a strange love of turning on the ponderous.

Once on site, she searched the crawler thoroughly. Much to her surprise, she found she was not alone. What had transpired was unknown to her, especially considering the long-worn state of the crawler, however there appeared to be a single lone male jawa living there, something she discovered shortly after a series of odd scraping sounds caught her ears and she discovered the built-in smelting equipment was active. The jawa, who introduced himself as Akik, seemed oddly welcoming and not only freely introduced himself but spoke such a simple form of the Jawa Trade Language that even she could understand him. Thankfully she had run into his kind plenty of times before, however certainly not alone. As Akik explained - the crawler had once been his clan's home before a combination of an accident involving volatile ore and a well timed Tusken Raider attack left the entire clan slaughtered.

What made her uneasy was the fact that, well, poor Akik appeared to have lost more then his people. He was oddly chipper when recounting the tale and even offered to teach her to be as great a salvager as he was. He cited that he died long ago and that he refused to claim that ALL members of the clan were dead because he had traded his daughter into a marriage contract during the last swap meet, thus his legacy would live on. It was odd, certainly odd, to be receiving training from a crazed jawa, but the maddened thing seemed to quite endearing to Lyellvi, whom he saw as his 'best customer ever' and the entire deal as a transaction. Months passed, and life in the Dune Sea was harsh. The two survived with one another's assistance, though often times Lyellvi felt greatly outclassed by the jawa's knowledge of the terrain. Her skills were improving, she could take apart a fighter's central computer and re-assemble it in quite the impressively short time and name each part with it's function. She knew which end of a blaster did what an the ammunition for several well known brands. However, time was running out, the deadline of her deal had already been stretched thin with transmissions latent with promises and delays. Stretching the truth was one thing, but she could not lie forever. Once she'd returned her already salvaged scrap to her toydarian employer, she found herself in an awkward position. Not only did she have to infer that it was all she found, but she was also met with a rather unfortunate question.

"Yes, but did you find The Jawa?"

Why did he want to know? What would he do to Akik if she revealed the information? Perhaps it was mere curiosity, or perhaps he owed him something...Her instinct were quite clear - telling him would be a horrible idea. However, her mind was still addled with the ways of her people. She knew how much lying hurt them. It would betray everything she'd lived with to deny the truth thus far...so, against her better judgement, she confirmed his beliefs.

She never was able to see his remains, however considering the state she found the crawler's now further diminished remains in, it must have been a violent end. It was a sad truth to behold, even worse she dared not ask her employer why he'd been after the lone madman. Perhaps it was just...yet more then likely not. She swallowed her grief, knowing very well that it would not be right. She told the truth, didn't she? She did the right thing. Now given a hefty reward and more then enough to start booking ships off the planet, Lyellvi Ra-Avora, Daughter of Queen Nashora, Dweller of the Den Arj'jeran , Student of Akik and someone who could find function amongst ruin, set off into the galaxy with a fresh new goal in her mind, one given to her by a late, brief and very good friend - "Locate, separate, renew, trade, survive!"



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{Possessions}​

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Bantha Hide Utlity Belt, Holding:​

• One portable rebreather.
• Two pouches filled with laser cutters, scanners and various small tools.
• Electromagnetic pulse generator.
• Food and drink capsules.
• Navigational Device
• Holomapping Hardware
• MK 10 Holoprojector & Imagecaster
• C1 Personal Comlink
• Bothan Quick-Draw Blaster Pistol

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Nerf-Hide Leather Rucksack, holding:​

• Custom Strap for a Modified Selonian Warglaive
• Up to 12 days of Food Rations
• Salvage equipment such as decoding devices and heavy extractors.
• Grappling Gun
• Waterskin

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{Kills}​

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N/A​

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{Bounties Collected}​

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N/A​

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Notice: I claim no credit for drawing any art displayed on this profile, characters depicted/artwork depicted belongs to their original owners. Main image belongs to http://www.furaffinity.net/view/12252091/