three times freed
OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION
Intent: To officially introduce an N / PC to either accompany the main character of this subaccount or post directly from his perspective
Image Credit:
- © Seungwon Hong 2019 (x), edit by me;
- Family divider courtesy of
Ivory Stroud
Malcoma Hesse
Permissions: {n/a}
Links: Eve Escorts {company}
PHYSICAL INFORMATION
Age: 34
Force Sensitivity: Non-Force User
Species: Human
Appearance:
- blue eyes & dark red / brown hair;
- 177cm & 77kg;
- usually wears a dark 3-peice suit & tie
SOCIAL INFORMATION
Name: Damris Inkari
Loyalties:
-
Malcoma Hesse
- The Family by extension
- roughly upper middle class;
- has no financial stake in the company's welfare besides being employed
Skills:
- keen eyes for security;
- most jobs that he has ever been assigned to go off without a hitch;
- always has an exit strategy
Personality:
- generally friendly and flirty;
- outspoken and stubborn when it comes to matters of security (will pick you up and carry you to safety if you make him);
- smokes tabac as a nervous tic;
- inclined to agoraphobia;
- (over)protective of Malcoma
COMBAT INFORMATION
Weapon of Choice: M-45 Heavy Blaster Pistol
Combat Function: He won't pick a fight unless it looks like one is inevitable. Even then, his main objective is not to win in the conventional sense, but to get whoever he is protecting away to safety. That said, his is a good shot at intermediate to close distances, and a formidable hand-to-hand fighter as well.
Strengths:
- Loyal—Malcoma has never once questioned Damris' loyalty. A quality like that is hard to find in her line of work. He is also currently the only person Malcoma trusts with her most foundational motivations. He's a keeper for this point alone.
- Insider Knowledge—He was once a detective with the CSF. He still has a few contacts in a department or two that he keeps in contact with. Otherwise, he uses knowledge of their inner workings to stay ahead of of investigations into Eve's revitalized activity.
- Lovestruck—He will often talk about his job as simply taking care of Malcoma and her girls like a family. Anyone who knows how deeply he cares for each and every one of them could leverage him into doing anything by threatening their wellbeing. Literally anything.
- Addiction—As Damris smokes whenever he's nervous, which is almost all of the time, he is addicted to tabac. If he goes without for too long, he'll have awful withdrawal symptoms.
HISTORICAL INFORMATION
Overview:
Before Damris Inkari was a private bodyguard, he was a senior detective with the Coruscant Security Force. Before that, he was a noncommissioned naval officer in the Galactic Alliance. Just a few months after transitioning onto the police force, he was tasked with building a case against the underworld's most prolific—but at the time still alleged—madam. A few minor breaks that lead to progress stopped short of an arrest were still good enough to land him a promotion to detective. A few more years made the case into his baby; it was clear by this point that she wasn't just illegally prostituting but dealing in black market trading, particularly for slaves coming out of Hutt Space, as well.
Her background was still unclear. He tried to dig into it but never got anywhere, not until he found a former girl of hers. A thread had finally come loose; a victim's name from a recovered transaction was successfully unencrypted. Damris went to question her. In hindsight, his team said that he didn't come back quite right, though they didn't know how to describe it. The change was subtle. The record went missing before end of business, but they didn't notice until the day when another detective decided to follow-up. Damris said he hadn't written down the address or name and couldn't remember either. They chalked in up to a hack.
He followed a few more leads, one of which almost lead to the apprehension of Malcoma Hesse. Soon after, he turned in his badge. At first no one at the precinct quite knew why. But when his second-hand was found shot dead in his apartment with blast residue characteristic of a private pistol owned by Inkari, they did.
First meeting w. Malcoma:
The footsteps had caught up with her. She slowly rose her hands, but didn't dare turn around. Not until his order. But it didn't come.
One heartbeat. Two. Three. "What now, Officer Inkari?" she asked to break them up.
The initial response was the hissing click of a lowered blaster pistol. "Now you go."
"S-speak up, darling?"
"Down the fire escape. Go."
Malcoma broke her rule, turning. "...No." Her enunciation was slow and precise. If this was a trap, she refused to step into it. She'd much rather be cuffed right here than break a stiletto climbing down a rickety old ladder.
"Please," he added, raising his own hands for good measure.
Oh, how she hated men who begged. They sounded so—
"I know why you do it."
Malcoma straightened. "Do you?" she asked. The way he had said it she wasn't expecting the common guesses of masochism or money.
"Yes. And I want to help you."
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