Aramea Bel
Cutest Little Murder Hobo
Name: Unknown
Aliases: Aramea Bel
Faction: Sith Order (Suspected)
Rank: Unknown
Species: Sithspawn (Suspected)
Age: Unknown
Sex: Unknown
Height: Unknown
Weight: Unknown
Eye: Unknown
Hair: Unknown
Skin: Unknown
Force Sensitive: Unknown
Aliases: Aramea Bel
Faction: Sith Order (Suspected)
Rank: Unknown
Species: Sithspawn (Suspected)
Age: Unknown
Sex: Unknown
Height: Unknown
Weight: Unknown
Eye: Unknown
Hair: Unknown
Skin: Unknown
Force Sensitive: Unknown
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Something warm, pressed to their face. Warm. Sticky. Blood. Their blood? Perhaps. A sharp pain in the back of their head. No. The blood seeped into their clothes, over their skin, covering their skin, in their skin. Skin? Where they meant to have skin? Or was it better to peel it off? Layer by layer by layer. Flesh and bone. No. No flesh, no bone. What then? Something, something else.
Face down on the ground, they slid to their hands and knees. Blood, so much blood. They touched the back of their head. The sharp pain lancing through their skull. The wound was not so bad for so much blood though. How did they know this? Dark eyes wound their way up across the floor, up a wall. Blood splattered across the wall like a piece of abstract art. Across a mirror above a sink. They struggled to their feet, pushed themselves to lean over the sink. Water dripped into the basin, slowly, slowly. They turned the faucet on, blood drops washing away down the drain. Their hands were covered in blood too. Those too were washed. Looking up in the mirror, an unfamiliar face stared back. Masculine, dark haired. Dark eyes. Stubble across their chin. Harrowed, tired eyes. He touched his face, running fingers over the wrinkles of his face. Was this his face? Why couldn't he recognize it?
More importantly, why was his face covered in blood. It wasn't his. He turned to look back at the puddle of blood he'd awoken in. Still warm. But the body on the ground, cold. He stepped backwards, forgetting the sink, and backing right into it, a dull pain lancing through his side. His hand grasping the basin was the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground. His breath came in heavy, ragged, quick. The woman, her stomach torn open, bloody knife lying on the ground beside her. Had he killed her. Eyes darting around. For what? He didn't know. An escape, help? Anything.
His eyes caught sight of a holo-photo. Him, standing beside the woman. Arms around each other. Lovers? His hands began to shake. Despite the quick breaths, he felt as if he were choking. He opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out. He remembered now. His wife. His darling wife. Aramea. Dead, at his hand? No. Maybe? Why? Why couldn't he remember.
He turned and evacuated the contents of his stomach. The scent of bile filled the air as he wiped the acid from his lips.
Hungry. Why was he hungry, now, of all times? Food. Nutrients. Nearby. On the floor. No, not Aramea. Why, why would he think that? How could he? But still he turned. Maw yawning open. Jaw unhinging, swinging wide. Tendons snapped, muscles and bones shifted and rearranged themselves.
A new skin. New memories. But none of them hers. Aramea wiped her mouth of her meal. What was she? Who was she? No one was left to answer her. -
+ Of Many Faces: After consuming another being, Aramea stores their memories and physical form. Able to shift her body into that of any of her stored forms, she is also able to maintain the form through unconsciousness or sleep.
+ Unusual Body Composition: What is Aramea made up of? At first glance the obvious answer would be flesh and blood. Or rather, whatever her current form is composed of. The truth is...she doesn't know. Although she is able to mimic flesh and blood, the actual composition is a mystery to her.
+ Lifetimes of Experience: Thanks to her ability to store another's memories, she is also able to call upon the skills and knowledge acquired by that individual.
- Limited Save Slots: Aramea can only retain a small number of memories and forms. If she is to acquire new ones, she must replace those of one which she has already stored.
- Hungry Girl: Aramea is hungry. And thirsty. Always. Which unfortunately leads to her consuming other sentient beings frequently. Although consuming regular food or resting will help her regain energy as usual, the memories of sentients are far more potent.
- Naive: With little life experience of her own, Aramea's trust is easy to gain, and her loyalty is soon to follow. Although she may be aware of the possibility of lies and betrayal, she is incapable of detecting these traits in others. - None
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- Comfortable clothing
- Small vibro-knife
Template by Dax Perl. Background image by Alexander Nedviga
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