The Hanged Girl
NYLA VEN
Music | Zero Visibility |
Aliases | N/A |
Class(es) | Jedi Sentinel |
Birthplace | Jutrand |
Age | (Very) Young Adult |
Traits | Loveable Scoundrel Elusive Shadow Formidable Resolve |
Rank(s) | Padawan |
Faction(s) | New Jedi Order |
Species | Human |
Languages | Galactic Basic Huttese Binary |
Gender | Fem |
Force Sensitive | Y |
Character Alignment | Neutral Good |
Height | 178cm |
Weight Class | Bantam |
Color Code | #42bdff |
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Vignettes
INFIRMARY, JEDI ENCLAVE, JUTRAND
8XX ABY
The child, sprawled out upon a cot of synthlinen and foam, groaned. It wasn't that she hurt; some of the older Jedi had healed the scrapes and bruises she'd given herself in her latest fit.
No, she was just going crazy. That was the problem.
She'd touch the bedsheets, there'd be a flash of pain in her head, and she'd be flooded with memories of the last time she was here, when another youngling accidentally cracked her across the head with a training saber. It'd been an accident, and she knew that, but it was still the angriest she'd ever been in her life, and it all came rushing back.
Except she didn't remember that happening. Or, well, she did, but it wasn't...ugh. It wasn't hers. She knew that, she was sure of it, she was positive she hadn't just forgotten, because she definitely didn't have headtails to bruise.
And then she'd groan, and ball the sheets up in her fists, and the whole thing started over again.
It went on like that for Nyla didn't even know how long, but she was on the verge of tears by the time someone came in to check on her - a tallish, athletic looking Cathar woman. Her robe (it was more like a jacket, Nyla figured) matched her fur; soft, warm browns and creams, trimmed short for practicality. The woman strode over to a seat by Nyla's cot, and, rather than sitting in it, perched on the back, planting her feet on the cushion.
"Hey, kid. You had a pretty nasty fall out there. How are you holding up?"
Nyla watched with reddened, bleary eyes as the Jedi approached, eventually sitting up, knees to her chest and hands linked across her shins, rocking slightly. She sniffled as she spoke. "I'm going crazy, Miss Illani."
The Jedi laughed at that. It was a feline, rolling sort of noise that sounded more like a growl than anything else, at least to Nyla. It would've been terrifying if it hadn't been so gentle. Slowly, gently, Illani reached a hand out towards Nyla...and ruffled her hair.
"You're not crazy, kid. You've got a gift."
JEDI ENCLAVE, JUTRAND
8XX ABY
"Hey, kid."
"Yes, Master Illani?"
"...It's okay to be afraid. And it's okay to be angry. What matters is that you don't let those feelings control you."
"...Master Illani?"
"Love ya, kid. May the Force be with you."
Illani was dead. So was everyone else.
Nyla sat in the corner. Knees up to her chest. Hands locked around her shins. Rocking slightly. Tears streamed down her face, as she stared, silent and numb, at the abattoir stretched out before her. How long had she been sitting there? Hours? She couldn't tell. She hadn't been keeping track.
She'd sat and watched as someone - lightsaber in hand, cloaked in black, bearing the insignia of the Sith - butchered her friends. She'd watched, from the shadows, hiding away like a child, while the Sith did their bloody work.
She'd hid, and watched, too terrified to move, as Sith forces swept through her home, carting away the remnants of all she had ever loved - like their bodies were garbage.
Her Master had died fighting. The other Padawans - all of them her juniors, all of them innocent, all of them comrades she had sworn to stand by - had died screaming. She had lurked. And she had watched.
Nyla knew what her Master would have said. That none of us are truly without fear. That revealing herself would have meant nothing more than the total destruction of Jutrand's Jedi tradition. That even a single survivor was reason enough for joy.
None of that felt like it mattered.
She stood, and she felt hollow. An aching, empty void where her heart should have been. She wanted to collapse; to let the Darksiders find her here come morning, and reunite her with those she'd lost. She took a step forward, instead. And then another, and another, and wiped her tears on the sleeve of her robe.
"There is no death, there is the Force..."
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PSYCHOMETRIC INVESTIGATOR INFILTRATOR ACROBAT
Nyla Ven is of slim, lean build and average-to-tall-ish height, with shortly cropped blonde hair. She is physically fit and maintains that status through a combination of exercise and meditative application of curato salva techniques meant to promote good health. Nyla is quick and agile, and has enviable endurance, although she is not particularly strong and must often rely on the Force to avoid being overpowered in combat.
Nyla is a Jedi to her core. It's in her bones at this point. She is deeply compassionate, willing to take great personal risks to ease the suffering of others and correct injustice. She is also a staunch believer in both the fundamental sanctity of life and the equality of all living beings - including, notably, droids and other artificial intelligences. Nyla places great value on both academic knowledge and personal experience, and is possessed of an almost insatiable sense of curiosity and wanderlust because of it. These traits, combined with the influence of her Master and Jutrand's eccentric Jedi tradition, have nurtured in Nyla something of a tendency towards rogue-ish behavior - she does what she believes is right and what the Force wills her to, and sometimes this means engaging in acts of sabotage, theft, espionage, and other assorted scoundrelry of questionable legality.
Despite her tendency towards adventure and knight-errantry, Nyla is generally rather patient and thoughtful, loathe to rush headlong into a situation without some sort of planning and forethought. Despite the stereotypes about Jedi repression, she's also a big believer in self-reflection and healthy emotional processing. Besides the general mental health benefits, this fortifies her against mental and emotional manipulation and is also generally quite useful given the trauma-induced tendencies towards panic attacks and bouts of self-loathing and survivor guilt.
Nyla's approach to combat is, like much about her, classic Jedi. She prefers lightsaber combat and has a talent for dueling, although she is reasonably practiced with Echani hand-to-hand as well. She is, however, almost entirely incompetent with ranged weaponry, as she prefers to use the Force to close the distance or defend from afar.
Speaking of the Force, Nyla's relationship to that very thing is worth elaborating upon. She displays a pair of innate talents that make her an excellent spy, these being her capacity for Psychometry and raw talent for manipulating energy, a key manifestation of which is her ability to bend light and sound to conceal herself.
No one is good at everything, however. Nyla has very little telekinetic ability; she is capable of the very basics, such as manipulating small objects or pulling her lightsaber to her hand, but her reach is shorter than typical and her ability to generate raw power is severely lacking, even for a Padawan. Further, she's utterly incompetent at the manipulation of others' minds, barely capable of even the most minute of mental trickery. This suits her just fine, though, as she considers the practice unsavory, if not innately dark, in nature.
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COMBAT
- Lightsaber Combat ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Echani ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Energy Weapons ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Projectile Weapons ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- CONTROL
- Altus Sopor ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Buried Presence ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Curato Salva ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Enhance Attribute ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Speed ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Tutaminis ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Inertia ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Altus Sopor ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- SENSE
- Sense Force ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Sight ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Life Detection ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Magnify Senses ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Telepathy ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Empathy ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Psychometry ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Sense Force ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- ALTER
- Energy Manipulation ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Alter Enivronment ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Cloak ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Mind Trick ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Healing ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Telekinesis ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Energy Manipulation ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Art of Movement ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Galactic History ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Gardening ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- First Aid ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Piloting ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Slicing ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
- Infiltration ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
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FRIENDS AND ALLIES
N/A Lonely here, isn't it?
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Carried Equipment
- NJO Jedi Jumpsuit, Black
- NJO Utility Belt
- Jedi Confessional Talisman
- Lightsaber, blue crystal, two-handed hilt
- Respirator
- Datapad w/ standard Slicing Software
- The Laughing Vagrant, a GLF-001 Light Freighter
- Jedi Confessional Talisman, Spare
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