Adder
My life, for yours.

OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION
Intent: Look Rugged & dangerous™
Image Source: X
Canon Link: /
Restricted Missions: /
Primary Source: /
Manufacturer: Unknown
Model: /
Affiliation: Shisa Thalvi
Modularity: /
Production: Unique
Material: Spacers leather, Shell spider silk, Glistaweb
Classification: Jacket
Weight: 2.5 kg
Resistances:
- Kinetic: High
- Lightsabers: None
- EMP/ION: None
- Force: Very High
- Ballistics: None
SPECIAL FEATURES
A really nice jacket
Dances with plasma: The jacket offers a fantastic resistance against blasters. Like, really – bolts will just bounce off most of the time. Obviously this protection only extends as far as the jacket does which… isn’t a whole lot.
Choke me if you can: Matters of kink and consent aside, the areas covered by the jacket will prove exceptionally slippery in the Force. Anyone trying to grab, manipulate, or otherwise affect the wearer with space magic will have a bad day. As with blasters, this protection against the Force only extends as far as the jacket itself.
Just a jacket: It may be brilliant and fantastic in some ways, but come up with a knife or whip out the old slugthrower, and it’ll offer all the resistance of butter to a hot knife.
Wrong a Vong: Force Lightning can still affect the wearer as normal, as with all Vong organisms. The glistaweb likewise displays an allergy towards Bafforr pollen, which will effectively 'knock it unconscious'. Over longer periods of exposure, the glistaweb will die.
Really long story really short: Once, in the olden days when she was much younger and sprier still, Shisa Thalvi was gifted a jacket for her exemplary service to a crime lord.
At least, that’s what she tells people.
In truth, she looted it off some poor kark after she shot him dead in a back alley. Or… did she? That may be the story you heard, but what actually happened is totally different.
She slept with the boss’ son, and when Old Pappy came knocking, Thalvi had to leg it out the window. To blend with the crowd, she grabbed the boy’s jacket on the way out, popped the collar, and stuck her fiery mane behind it.
“But it’s got the initials A.Y.K.T. on the lapel,” you point out. “What kinda guy’s name is that?”
Shisa stops talking and serves you one of her death glares. You shut up and go back to staring at the bottom of your glass. The enforcer gives you a light pat on the shoulder as she heads out of the bar.
Maybe you’ll come home tonight.
Maybe you won’t.