Danyil Wyr
Character
NAME: Danyil Wyr
FACTION: None
RANK: None
SPECIES: Human (or near-Human)
AGE: Early 20s
SEX: Male
HEIGHT: 5'11"
WEIGHT: 180lbs
EYES: Dark Brown
HAIR: Dark Brown
SKIN: White/Tan
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes
Birthworld: Unknown
Homeworld: Corellia
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES:
Strengths
- Heightened Precognition
- Survivor Mentality
- Restricted Force Usage
- Limited Weapons Experience
- Limited Galactic Knowledge
APPEARANCE:
At first glance, Danyil might look to most to be a man of little renown. He wears basic clothes, nothing fancy, something a farmer or laborer would wear. His hair is long and wavy with an unkept quality. His bangs often obscure a tattoo on his forehead, representing the crew of thieves he was a part of. His face is often a week unshaven. But underneath it all, most would consider Danyil handsome. He has a lean, muscular build with an angular jaw. His gaze can be intense, with wide eyes and a stoic expression. But it's broken easily by his warm smile.
PERSONALITY:
Danyil is a man of few words. More a thinker than a talker, he often takes longer to speak and will say more with fewer words. He has a combination of his parents' senses of humor. Goofy at times, like his mother, sarcastic and witty like his father. Though he will often portray himself as serious, there's almost always something to laugh about, at least in his mind. He is generally a kind-hearted man, lessons from his parents tending to stick. Although he has no qualms about stealing from someone, a pattern engrained later in life, he wouldn't want to see that person hurt. He chooses his targets carefully to avoid any unnecessary conflict. Who needs that much money anyway? In fact, on occasion he finds himself helping others he sees in need. He knows what it's like to have nothing and does what he can to help others in that situation.
BIOGRAPHY:
Danyil remembers little of his childhood. What he does remember, he holds on to with all he has. A happy home life at first. His mother teaching him about the Force. She was a Jedi, he liked to think. He never saw her lightsaber but she knew a lot about the Force. She taught him to open himself to the Force, feeing it's presence and influence; the most basic of Jedi teachings.
He remembers helping his father organize boxes at the family store. It was hard work but he got to spend more time with his Dad. Both of his parents had been kind and had taught him to be so.
After that a blur, punctuated by pain. His mother's sudden death. His father's turn to stims. Losing the store. And one day he was on the streets of a vast city, just trying to find something to eat and somewhere to sleep. His mother's words and what she taught him were always in the forefront of his mind, guiding his survival.
The first night that he thought he might starve to death, he saw a tiny blue figure of a woman floating in the air. He instantly recalled stories his mother told him of Force ghosts; apparitions of those who had been strong with the Force in life and continued after death.
The figure lead him away from the alley he was sitting in, down several blocks to a dumpster where a man had just thrown out a dozen loaves of bread.
It was his mother, he knew, though maybe a younger version. She appeared as a young woman with long hair and a flowing dress. Sometimes she would whisper a word or simply impress a feeling on his mind to guide him. Only when truly necessary would she reveal herself visibly. To this day he is unsure if it truly is his mother or a figment of his addled mind.
After that, he always had enough to eat, his silent guide nudging him in the right direction. He managed to avoid trouble, turning away from certain alleys for no reason other than a feeling. He won scuffles over food, his opponents too obvious in broadcasting their actions and his own instincts and reflexes too quick.
The blur of stuttered memories were years of his life, he knew, but he didn't consider himself truly alive until he found the crew: a gang of adolescent pickpockets that became his family. With a relatively comfortable place to sleep, better food than he'd had in years and finally someone to talk to, he was… happy. He found stealing to be quite rewarding. Although it hurt his conscience at first, the whispers and instincts that had always guided him didn't fail here. He could pick out individuals from a crowd and bring back the biggest haul day after day. The crew prospered and they all knew it was because of him.
The group of thieves emboldened, they moved on to larger and more lucrative heists. Danyil's instincts constantly guided him to the best targets: lucrative and with little need for bloodshed. The jobs didn't always go off without a hitch, but Danyil always knew when to back out or change the plan. The crew always made it home.
Years into his time with the crew, the instincts that had always steered him clearly, began giving him a pang. He knew he had to do something painful. He had to leave. He ignored the feeling for years, not wanting to leave his new-found family and the respect and satisfaction he received from the crew. All the while, his instincts continued to guide him and the crew prospered. It was a strange contradiction that Danyil continued to ignore.
That is, until the raid. Despite his careful planning, the authorities had caught up to the crew. Their base was surrounded. But the instincts that he should have listened to long ago helped him to escape. His mother even appeared for the second time, when he was nearly captured, leading him out of the fray, out of the city and off-world.
Where he needed to go now, he didn't know. He vowed to listen to his instincts more closely from now on. They had warned him of the danger, years in advance. Where could he be now if he had just listened? And yet, it had continued to guide him, even when he didn't listen to it.
He drifted for a time, hopping from planet to planet, trying simply to sense where to go next. He resumed his pick-pocket habit, falling back on his basic survival instincts. He graduated to more elaborate cons but remained solo, the pain of the loss of his crew still too fresh.
He survived for years as a thief, gambler and con artist. He perfected skills like sleight of hand and card counting. When tricks of manipulation failed, he often relied on his brawling abilities. He found with the right whisper of a hint in his mind, he could take out an opponent in just a few moves or fight a number of men successfully, with just his hands. He did eventually take up a staff as his weapon of choice. More often than not, his instincts removed him from such dangerous situations though.
He subsisted like this, but there was an emptiness. He knew his life could be more. That he didn't have to just live for himself but had a greater purpose. At the same time, he felt that everything that had happened and that he was doing now was preparing him. The whispers in his mind were drawing him forward, to an unseen future.
Where she was leading him, he needed to find out.
ITEMS:
Spear - A baton compacted within a containment field. When activated, the baton lengthens into a single-pointed spear about six feet long.
Lockpick Set
Sabacc Deck
SKILLS:
Mentalist - Danyil is practiced in many skills that allow him to manipulate people to do what he wants. He can read facial expressions and body language. He is adept at lying and detecting lies. He uses these skills primarily when he gambles or during a con.
Thievery - Danyil has been a pickpocket from an early age. Since then, he's learned related skills such as lock-picking, slight of hand, stealth, parkour and climbing. To a lesser degree, he has experience with explosives and slicing, although he generally leaves these areas to the experts.
Hand-to-Hand Combat - When needed, Danyil is more than capable of holding his own in a fight. He makes his hits count, often downing foes within a few hits. He can handle multiple opponents, his precognitive instincts allowing him to stay one step ahead and to use his opponents' actions against the others. He has trained more recently with a collapsible spear, a weapon he's found to be simple but versatile.
SHIP:
None
KILLS:
None
BOUNTIES COLLECTED:
None
ROLE-PLAYS:
None