Elyria Vance
New Member
[SIZE=9pt]NAME:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] Elyria Vance[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]FACTION: [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Unaffiliated[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]RANK:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] None[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]SPECIES:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] Human[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]AGE:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] 31[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]SEX:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] Female[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]HEIGHT: [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]1.64m[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]WEIGHT:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] 53kg[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]EYES:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] Pale greyish blue[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]HAIR:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] Dark brown, almost black[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]SKIN:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] Pale through lack of sunlight[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]FORCE SENSITIVE:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] Very Slightly[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES [/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt](Required: 2 Weaknesses Minimum) :[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]+[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Thief in the Shadows – Elyria spent her formative years stealing to survive aboard a vast starship. She is skilled at both theft and vanishing from any pursuit afterward.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]+[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Lip Reading – Over the years, Elyria has developed the basic ability to read lips, though she is far from perfect at it and in a galaxy full of lipless aliens, masked Sith and helmet clad Mandalorians it isn’t always of great use.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]--[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Deaf and Mute – War stole Elyria’s hearing, plunging her into a world of silence when she was little more than a child. Her muteness stems from the same source, although the few medics she has seen could find no physical source for the girl’s silence, instead positing that the cause was psychological.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]--[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Bacta Intolerant – Elyria is severely allergic to Bacta, and risks going into anaphylactic shock should she come into contact with it. This does, regrettably, severely limit her options when she requires medical treatment. Not that she could afford Bacta anyway.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]- Taste for Spice – Elyria has developed a slight taste for Spice, believing it gives her an inkling of the sensations that were stolen from her.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]APPEARANCE:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Barely reaching average height, and thin enough that many might consider her emaciated, Elyria looks younger than her age and might even be considered attractive, albeit only after a good scrub or ten and a few weeks feeding up. Her skin is pale, a result of the lack of natural light aboard the refugee convoys and vagabond fleets that have been her home over the years and thin trails of silvery scar tissue trace filigree patterns across her forearms in testament to the sorrows of her life.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Her hair is long, and dark enough brown that it appears almost black in most lights. Generally tied back in a single tight braid that falls almost to the small of her back, it is Elyria’s one acquiescence to vanity. Her eyes are pale blue, like the water on a moonlit night, and always seem to be searching for the next kick that’s coming her way, and a perpetual frown sits eternally on her lips.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]BIOGRAPHY:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Those who wage war don’t care about the little people. Oh, they might claim that they do, that everything they’re doing is to protect the people who live at rock bottom, but these claims are self delusion at best and outright lies at worst. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Elyria learnt that at a very young age.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Her parents were drifters, traders with a small ship and a slight talent at quietly moving goods from A to B with the minimum of interference. They weren’t rich, but they didn’t do without, and the early years are ones that Elyria looks back on fondly enough. But good things don’t last. Not for Elyria Vance at least. Her parents were partly to blame; they needed money, so they took a job that took their ship into a warzone. They thought it was safe; they were carrying medical supplies, so they wouldn’t be a target. And they weren’t – when the invasion came, when the skies burnt with turbolaser fire and steel rained from the heavens, they were nothing more than collateral damage. The gunners aboard the ship that destroyed them, a vast behemoth of the stars that had been systematically razing the entire commercial spaceport, probably didn’t even notice another ship dying beneath their guns.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]It was only by sheer good fortune that Elyria wasn’t present; she’d set out on an errand mere minutes before the first warships dropped out of hyperspace, and was on the fringe of the spaceport when the heavens fell. Around her, people panicked as was their wont, and the girl was swept up in the chaos, dragged along with the crowds that fled the devastation. Caught in the crush of the crowd, Elyria was pulled this way and that, turned about and trampled underfoot. She didn’t see the death of her family – a small mercy, but one she’d later be grateful for – but she smelt the acrid stink of death on the air, a scent that would have been sickening had the girl been given the time to dwell on it. Alas, time was not a resource that the Force was keen to offer Elyria, and a concussive blast swept through the spaceport, growing with every freighter and fuel tank it consumed. Shards of metal and other, grislier, debris hurtled through the air, tearing into the crowd, decimating those around the young girl. Screams filled the air, almost managing to drown out the distant explosions for the briefest of moments, before the shockwave from the explosion struck, shrieking, rending, tearing….and Elyria’s world went black.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]It was hours later when she came to, half buried in a pile of corpses and wretched, writing survivors. Their mouths moved, but no noise came out. No, that wasn’t right - noise came out, but Elyria couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t hear the screaming, or the wailing, or the distant explosions that yet shook the horizon. Sound had been stolen from her world, sealing her in the silence of her own mind.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Shellshocked, she pulled herself from beneath the crush of corpses that had shielded her from the worst of the blast, and staggered down the street, a pathetic, bloodied sight. The world had fallen in the time she was unconscious, and soldiers stood everywhere, eyes cruel and hard, with powerful blaster rifles held ready, but none felt the need to bother with one wounded girl. And why would they? She was just one more waif amongst the tens of thousands of displaced souls the invasion left, and therefore neither worth their time nor their energy. But there were others, medical staff and kind Samaritans who did care, and soon enough one of those good souls was ushering Elyria toward a makeshift refugee camp. There, already overworked medics tried their best to deal with the wounded civilians, and though Elyria was low down the list of priorities she too was eventually seen – by a med tech with tired eyes and bloodstained clothing who shouted in her ears and prodded her throat. But no, there was nothing; for Elyria, silence reigned. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]The days that followed were hard and painful; families were reunited in the camp, and the orphaned girl watched jealously. Her own family never arrived, of course, and she was quick to reach the conclusion that they never would. Had they run? Or had they died? She didn’t have the pleasure of knowing, though she suspected the latter, and could only watch as others enjoyed the reunions she so longed for. Food was scare, and grew scarcer as the days turned into months. Many died, others ended up gaunt and skeletal. And, as always, then came disease, sweeping through the camp, killing dozens and leaving yet more weak and vulnerable. But that wasn’t all the disease did; no, it gave the occupiers an excuse, a reason to banish the refugees who had ‘brought disease to the land.’ Rounded up like cattle, they were herded aboard vast but archaic transports crewed by the very dregs of society and launched into space, allegedly to find a new home amongst the stars.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Everyone aboard knew the truth though. There was no new home waiting for them; only death awaited amongst the stars.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]From planet to planet, the refugee fleet travelled, but each world barred them entry; their own populations were too high, or food was too scarce, or there was some other pressing reason why they couldn’t offer sanctuary. And so they were sent away, perhaps with a little food and fuel as a humanitarian gesture, but with the occupants hope of finding a new home crushed that much further.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]It was aboard this fleet, and specifically aboard the freighter MX-371, that Elyria grew up, silent and, for the most part, alone. Forced to fend for herself, she grew hard, almost feral, but she survived and that was itself no small achievement. She grew adept stealing what she needed and vanishing into the shadows, and though that became harder as she grew from a waif into a lean, cruelly thin young woman, she never lost the knack of it. Her hearing never returned, not even as she blossomed into the full embrace of adulthood, and not a sound escape her mouth beyond the hushed whisper of her breath. However, she was able to forge a new family of sorts; a group of kindred spirits who gathered together, sharing what they stole and huddling together for warmth in the cargo bays of the Em-Ex, and it was one of these souls who gave Elyria a glimpse of the world of sound.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]He had managed to procure a small amount of spice, a potent drug that opened the mind, from the crew of a humanitarian vessel, and one night he deigned to share a fraction of it with Elyria. It was… horrible, and wonderful. Nightmareish, and beautiful. Even had she her voice, there was nothing Elyria could have said to describe it. But one thing she knew, one thing that remained with her, was that deep in that spice high, she had felt the ghost of a whisper in her ears. It was… haunting. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]The next few years continued much the same as the previous ones, though now Elyria sought out spice where she had the opportunity, ever striving for that faint trace of sound. And, eventually, that search was to be her salvation…[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]SHIP:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]None[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]FACTION: [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Unaffiliated[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]RANK:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] None[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]SPECIES:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] Human[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]AGE:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] 31[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]SEX:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] Female[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]HEIGHT: [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]1.64m[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]WEIGHT:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] 53kg[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]EYES:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] Pale greyish blue[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]HAIR:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] Dark brown, almost black[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]SKIN:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] Pale through lack of sunlight[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]FORCE SENSITIVE:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] Very Slightly[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES [/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt](Required: 2 Weaknesses Minimum) :[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]+[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Thief in the Shadows – Elyria spent her formative years stealing to survive aboard a vast starship. She is skilled at both theft and vanishing from any pursuit afterward.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]+[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Lip Reading – Over the years, Elyria has developed the basic ability to read lips, though she is far from perfect at it and in a galaxy full of lipless aliens, masked Sith and helmet clad Mandalorians it isn’t always of great use.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]--[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Deaf and Mute – War stole Elyria’s hearing, plunging her into a world of silence when she was little more than a child. Her muteness stems from the same source, although the few medics she has seen could find no physical source for the girl’s silence, instead positing that the cause was psychological.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]--[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Bacta Intolerant – Elyria is severely allergic to Bacta, and risks going into anaphylactic shock should she come into contact with it. This does, regrettably, severely limit her options when she requires medical treatment. Not that she could afford Bacta anyway.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]- Taste for Spice – Elyria has developed a slight taste for Spice, believing it gives her an inkling of the sensations that were stolen from her.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]APPEARANCE:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Barely reaching average height, and thin enough that many might consider her emaciated, Elyria looks younger than her age and might even be considered attractive, albeit only after a good scrub or ten and a few weeks feeding up. Her skin is pale, a result of the lack of natural light aboard the refugee convoys and vagabond fleets that have been her home over the years and thin trails of silvery scar tissue trace filigree patterns across her forearms in testament to the sorrows of her life.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Her hair is long, and dark enough brown that it appears almost black in most lights. Generally tied back in a single tight braid that falls almost to the small of her back, it is Elyria’s one acquiescence to vanity. Her eyes are pale blue, like the water on a moonlit night, and always seem to be searching for the next kick that’s coming her way, and a perpetual frown sits eternally on her lips.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]BIOGRAPHY:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Those who wage war don’t care about the little people. Oh, they might claim that they do, that everything they’re doing is to protect the people who live at rock bottom, but these claims are self delusion at best and outright lies at worst. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Elyria learnt that at a very young age.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Her parents were drifters, traders with a small ship and a slight talent at quietly moving goods from A to B with the minimum of interference. They weren’t rich, but they didn’t do without, and the early years are ones that Elyria looks back on fondly enough. But good things don’t last. Not for Elyria Vance at least. Her parents were partly to blame; they needed money, so they took a job that took their ship into a warzone. They thought it was safe; they were carrying medical supplies, so they wouldn’t be a target. And they weren’t – when the invasion came, when the skies burnt with turbolaser fire and steel rained from the heavens, they were nothing more than collateral damage. The gunners aboard the ship that destroyed them, a vast behemoth of the stars that had been systematically razing the entire commercial spaceport, probably didn’t even notice another ship dying beneath their guns.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]It was only by sheer good fortune that Elyria wasn’t present; she’d set out on an errand mere minutes before the first warships dropped out of hyperspace, and was on the fringe of the spaceport when the heavens fell. Around her, people panicked as was their wont, and the girl was swept up in the chaos, dragged along with the crowds that fled the devastation. Caught in the crush of the crowd, Elyria was pulled this way and that, turned about and trampled underfoot. She didn’t see the death of her family – a small mercy, but one she’d later be grateful for – but she smelt the acrid stink of death on the air, a scent that would have been sickening had the girl been given the time to dwell on it. Alas, time was not a resource that the Force was keen to offer Elyria, and a concussive blast swept through the spaceport, growing with every freighter and fuel tank it consumed. Shards of metal and other, grislier, debris hurtled through the air, tearing into the crowd, decimating those around the young girl. Screams filled the air, almost managing to drown out the distant explosions for the briefest of moments, before the shockwave from the explosion struck, shrieking, rending, tearing….and Elyria’s world went black.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]It was hours later when she came to, half buried in a pile of corpses and wretched, writing survivors. Their mouths moved, but no noise came out. No, that wasn’t right - noise came out, but Elyria couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t hear the screaming, or the wailing, or the distant explosions that yet shook the horizon. Sound had been stolen from her world, sealing her in the silence of her own mind.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Shellshocked, she pulled herself from beneath the crush of corpses that had shielded her from the worst of the blast, and staggered down the street, a pathetic, bloodied sight. The world had fallen in the time she was unconscious, and soldiers stood everywhere, eyes cruel and hard, with powerful blaster rifles held ready, but none felt the need to bother with one wounded girl. And why would they? She was just one more waif amongst the tens of thousands of displaced souls the invasion left, and therefore neither worth their time nor their energy. But there were others, medical staff and kind Samaritans who did care, and soon enough one of those good souls was ushering Elyria toward a makeshift refugee camp. There, already overworked medics tried their best to deal with the wounded civilians, and though Elyria was low down the list of priorities she too was eventually seen – by a med tech with tired eyes and bloodstained clothing who shouted in her ears and prodded her throat. But no, there was nothing; for Elyria, silence reigned. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]The days that followed were hard and painful; families were reunited in the camp, and the orphaned girl watched jealously. Her own family never arrived, of course, and she was quick to reach the conclusion that they never would. Had they run? Or had they died? She didn’t have the pleasure of knowing, though she suspected the latter, and could only watch as others enjoyed the reunions she so longed for. Food was scare, and grew scarcer as the days turned into months. Many died, others ended up gaunt and skeletal. And, as always, then came disease, sweeping through the camp, killing dozens and leaving yet more weak and vulnerable. But that wasn’t all the disease did; no, it gave the occupiers an excuse, a reason to banish the refugees who had ‘brought disease to the land.’ Rounded up like cattle, they were herded aboard vast but archaic transports crewed by the very dregs of society and launched into space, allegedly to find a new home amongst the stars.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Everyone aboard knew the truth though. There was no new home waiting for them; only death awaited amongst the stars.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]From planet to planet, the refugee fleet travelled, but each world barred them entry; their own populations were too high, or food was too scarce, or there was some other pressing reason why they couldn’t offer sanctuary. And so they were sent away, perhaps with a little food and fuel as a humanitarian gesture, but with the occupants hope of finding a new home crushed that much further.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]It was aboard this fleet, and specifically aboard the freighter MX-371, that Elyria grew up, silent and, for the most part, alone. Forced to fend for herself, she grew hard, almost feral, but she survived and that was itself no small achievement. She grew adept stealing what she needed and vanishing into the shadows, and though that became harder as she grew from a waif into a lean, cruelly thin young woman, she never lost the knack of it. Her hearing never returned, not even as she blossomed into the full embrace of adulthood, and not a sound escape her mouth beyond the hushed whisper of her breath. However, she was able to forge a new family of sorts; a group of kindred spirits who gathered together, sharing what they stole and huddling together for warmth in the cargo bays of the Em-Ex, and it was one of these souls who gave Elyria a glimpse of the world of sound.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]He had managed to procure a small amount of spice, a potent drug that opened the mind, from the crew of a humanitarian vessel, and one night he deigned to share a fraction of it with Elyria. It was… horrible, and wonderful. Nightmareish, and beautiful. Even had she her voice, there was nothing Elyria could have said to describe it. But one thing she knew, one thing that remained with her, was that deep in that spice high, she had felt the ghost of a whisper in her ears. It was… haunting. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]The next few years continued much the same as the previous ones, though now Elyria sought out spice where she had the opportunity, ever striving for that faint trace of sound. And, eventually, that search was to be her salvation…[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]SHIP:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]None[/SIZE]
