NAME: E'vi (E'vianna) Sohl
FACTION: The Mandalorians
RANK: Initiate
SPECIES: Half-Chiss, Half-Shi'ido
AGE: 20
SEX: Female
HEIGHT: 5' 7"
WEIGHT: 135 pounds
EYES: Crimson
HAIR: Chestnut
SKIN: Tan
FORCE SENSITIVE: Frak no.
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STRENGTHS
...not raised like a typical girl...
Dolls and dresses? Nah. My mother tried. I preferred the knives and blasters my father gave me. He raised me in the Mandalorian tradition in spite of my mother's best efforts to the contrary. It's part of what makes me what I am.
...an amazing sense of balance...
There's something my mother's not telling me, because I have an amazing sense of balance. Almost catlike, really...I always land on my feet. Not going to think too hard about a gift like this though...it's saved my skin on more than one occasion.
...pain means nothing to me...
Always had a relatively high pain threshold. Then I had my son without the aid of medics or physicians, or anyone, to be honest. You've got nothing on that process, trust me.
...loyalty and trust...
For my clan and my vod, the trust is instant, the loyalty a given. For everyone else, it takes alot to earn it from me. Once given, however, I'll be there no matter what.
WEAKNESSES
...I've got a temper...
It's an ongoing project in my life trying to control my temper. I can usually contain it, but if you push me far enough, things can go bad REAL fast. I blame it on growing up on Socorro...dad blames it on my mother.
...find the right button and I might break...
I have a heart, and I do my best to guard it carefully. But I'm not always successful....and when my heart's involved, I don't always think straight. My son is my biggest trigger. Harm him in any way, and so help me, I will kill you, consequences be damned.
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APPEARANCE
E'vi stands 5' 7" tall and most often wears her long chestnut hair loose in a riot of curls. She doesn't smile a whole lot and has a terrible habit of cursing like a drunken smuggler. Considering she does not yet have her own armor, she can most often be found wearing soft, form-fitting clothing that does not hamper her movement in anyway. Almost always bristling with weapons, rare is the time that she wears or possesses only one - but that one is always her back-handed grip dagger (one of a matched pair). A myriad of little nicks and scratches constantly mar her skin, but she has only two major scars. A long, jagged one across her upper back courtesy of a serrated blade, and a twisted, mangled mess of scar tissue over her right hip from the bolt of a slugthrower (some of the shrapnel remains deep in the muscle beneath).
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BIOGRAPHY
I'll keep this brief, since talking about myself is one of my least favorite things to do. I was born on Socorro, and spent most of my life there. My mother is an archaeologist, and her life's work is the ruins of the Jedi Temple there - she is Chiss, born on one of the Core Worlds, I think, but she never told me specifically which. My father, whose surname I carry, is- or rather, was - a Mandalorian warrior. Until he was cast out of his clan and declared dar'manda. To this day, he won't speak of it or even attempt to regain his honor and his clan.
Spent most of my childhood living with my mother, but my father lived nearby so he was always around. Though they weren't married (yes, I'm a bastard), he had alot more to do with my upbringing than she ever did. I was her shame. Her embarrassment. The thing that must never be mentioned. I was always 'his' daughter. Never hers, because even on the occasions that she tried to have a hand in raising me and turning me into a proper girl, I was never good enough. And I resisted.
The year I turned sixteen, I made a poor decision. At least, poor from the aspect in that I could have chosen a far better man to give my heart to. Its why I guard it so zealously now. He was a smuggler, someone I'd known for a few years. The bastard had a handsome face and just enough credits to toss around to make him an attractive prospect on that filthy world. I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Before I knew it I was pregnant and he was gone. Sorry, not telling you his name. He doesn't deserve that kind of mention.
Out of that mess, I got my Cade. My angel. The sweetest, most well-tempered infant and toddler a mother could ask for. My mother, refused to acknowledge him. My father? He was long gone. He doesn't even know he has a grandson. He's almost three now, and with my mother deciding that we've inconvenienced her long enough, we've struck out on our own.
He's staying with some friends who have a little one of their own, while I head to Manda'yaim, to find a clan...a home...a future.
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WEAPONS
- A matched pair of beskar daggers
- KX-80 Repeating Blaster Rifle
- Dissuader KD-30 Slugthrower Pistol
- SH-9 Slugthrower Pistol
KILLS
N/A
SHIP
N/A
BOUNTIES COLLECTED
N/A
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ROLE-PLAYS
thank you kindly!
