Izalith

[Izalith Vora]

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- The Omen -​

Name: Nivaea Ghastyr. "Izalith Vora".
Faction: The Sith Empire.
Rank: Acolyte.
Species: Human.
Age: Early thirties.
Sex: Female.
Orientation: Asexual.
Height: 5'11.
Weight: 152 lbs.
Eyes: Brown.
Hair: Short.
Skin: Pale white.
Force Sensitive: Yes

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Strengths & Weaknesses (Required: 2 Weaknesses Minimum) :

+ Militant: Raised by a military family, Nivaea was made to follow a rigorous schedule of a lifestyle, experiencing harsh and abusive treatment from most of her kin with no exceptions from even her father. Yet Nivaea considers herself better for having lived through it.

+ Lightsaber Combat: As an individual sensitive to the living Force, Nivaea adopted the usage of lightsaber combat into her arsenal, picking up on its niche applications rather quickly and with exceptional grace.

+ Brawler: Doused in seething scars and soul-clenching resentment, the expression of using one's body as a weapon as well as a conduit for the Force allows Nivaea to excel in hand-to-hand engagements.

-/+ Sadist: Never being able to uphold the integrity of her family's past, Nivaea has not taken this well psychologically. Years of being beaten down and broken emotionally has left a pit in her gut that craves the demise of others. Nivaea cannot process rational thought normally, causing her to become reckless and overzealous in her fetish to bring about death and suffering when her pride is bruised.

- Daughter Of None: Born to an Imperial veteran whom only received sons, Nivaea is a first. Her gender is regarded as a bad omen and has brought about a stigma and veil of shame upon her family's military legacy. Frequently reminded that she has no place in her own bloodline, Nivaea disconnected herself from such a bitter reality, also disowning anyone attempting to bond with her.

- Latent Inferiority Complex: Second-guessing, pessimistic, and starving for attention, Nivaea will do all in her capacity to rise above any obstacle before her, acting as if her prowess in any field is superior; however, her mind is a feeble thing filled to the brim with self-bastardization and sorrows of drowning in inconsistencies and failures bound to come for simply existing. Vanity and an ego are a result of the toxicity that brews within her on a daily basis.

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Appearance: A scarred, stoic woman, Nivaea never appears to be of an optimistic or overly enthused demeanor. An almost perpetual state of seething anger is her default expression, eyes glaring with deeply seeded spite buried within the pits of her soul. Short, unkempt hair further reflects a lifestyle predominated by a militant and warrior-like mindset. The desire for anything frilly or light-nature is null and void, and in their place bolstered with steely willpower is discipline and resolve.

What's more, Nivaea is almost never seen outside of her attire of synthleather - frequently will her head by shielded by an obscure, dark helmet. Almost as if shadows are inhabiting a mirror.

 

[Izalith Vora]

- Biography -​

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Prologue​

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As a child, Nivaea was a mistake. Her existence was confined, an abomination before the very eyes of the only man she knew as father; a man - another generation added to an extensive, illustrious legacy of Imperial military service. Sons bred and raised for excellence, careers measuring both political and on the battlefield, yet Nivaea held no medal. She wore no uniform, and deserved no rank. She was a failure by standard, and it crippled her heart. ​

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He would never tell her of her mother. She would never find the truth.​

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And when the eyes set upon her with a final verdict one fateful day, Nivaea's father abandoned her. Because of her condition, she was humiliated - labeled a freak and a disgrace. The Force... a display of those that did not earn their place among the stars as leaders or idols for others to worship. Nivaea's father believed his experience to be far superior, and his willpower stronger than any Sith or Jedi. ​

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But he was wrong.​

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Exiled, displaced from her Imperial heritage, Nivaea was set adrift into the unknown. Beaten, drugged, and unconscious, she lay unflinching as the shuttle jettisoned aimlessly. As one standard day had passed, Nivaea awoke in shock, hyperventilating and searching her new surroundings frantically. Everything was pitch black, and not a sound was made. In her panic, Nivaea began to weep - a wave of sorrow tensed her torso as tears flowed down her cheeks. But then that sorrow was reshaped into an anger - a rage festering from deep within the damaged heart of the disowned daughter.​

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A wave of power surged outward, and a light poured in. Nivaea fell into a pile of sanguine sand. ​

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Raising her head, she made a startling discovery. The architecture around her loomed ominously, runes carved into massive stones among towers of hooded figures. Something from deep within called out to Nivaea, a whisper in the dark.​

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This is where she learned her own truth and worth.​

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Useful after all. ​

 

[Darth Ophidia]

I may have to make you a nice signature too.