FULL NAME: Ralize Lilliana Darkfeather
NICKNAME: Ral, Lilli (only by her family)
FACTION: N/A
RANK: N/A
SPECIES: Human
AGE: 26
SEX: Female
HEIGHT: 5’ 3”
WEIGHT: 110 lbs
EYES: Emerald
HAIR: Chestnut
SKIN: Light Tan
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes
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STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES
+Natural Mechanic - Ralize is a natural born mechanic, having an affinity for machines and engines of all kinds for as long as she can remember. Her father still tells stories of how she learned to take apart her mechanical toys as a child before she even learned to talk. It’s a little eerie how well she understands mechanical things (a lot of times better than she understands people), but it can be attributed to the Force sensitivity she doesn’t know she has.
+Dependable - Any task you give her, it will be done to the best of her ability. She’s always on time and perfectly prepared. If ever she’s not, something has gone horribly, irretrievably wrong.
+Blasters/Rifles - A product of her father’s paranoia after her mother’s murder, Ralize was taught to wield several types of blasters and rifles, mostly by her older brothers, but she also puts in extended amounts of time at the range for practice.
-Temper - Boy, does she have one. Don’t get her started, because the end result ain’t pretty.
-Family & Friends - Ralize loves her family very much. Her family is sacred, and her mother’s memory even more so; she reacts swiftly and sometimes violently to any real or perceived threat or insult.
APPEARANCE
Ralize is a tiny, delicate looking young woman, standing all of 5’ 3” tall. Her long chestnut hair falls straight to the middle of her back and is almost always bound up in a ponytail. Her ears are pierced once each, and her navel is also pierced. She has one tattoo, a heart with an intricate and stylized letter ‘L’ inside, in honor of her mother on the inside of her left wrist. She tends to dress for comfort more than anything else, and can be most often found in tight tanktops, cargo pants, and boots. Occasionally, she’ll remember she’s a girl and dress up, so she is capable, she just doesn’t bother most of the time.
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BIOGRAPHY
Family
Amala Sarr-Darkfeather - Mother, deceased
Fortin Darkfeather - Father, deceased
Shaen Darkfeather - Older Brother, deceased
Cas Darkfeather - Older Brother, deceased
Kad Tor - Husband, presumed deceased
Valen Tor - Son, presumed deceased
Shaen Tor - Son, presumed deceased
History
I was born on Nar Shaddaa...I know. Don’t even say it, believe me, whatever you’re thinking, I’ve already heard it. My dad is a weapons dealer and a customizer, I guess you’d call it. You want a blaster or a rifle modified, there’s nobody better than my dad. My mom was a military field medic for her Mandalorian clan. But they got wiped out and she was the only one who survived - until they tracked her down and murdered her when I was ten. Something inside dad broke when he lost her, and he turned to some variant of spice I don’t even know the name of to feel better.
I grew up quick, needless to say. Even with my brothers mostly around (they were mercs, so they were off working a fair amount), I had to kind of raise myself after mom died. I spent so much time working in my uncle Bryd’s shop, elbow deep in engines that I sort of grew a temper and an attitude. I had to - I was a girl, and I’ve always been on the wrong side of short. Hell, my brothers are mercs and I’ve been in more bar fights than they have. Been thrown out of more bars, too. You learn to defend yourself real fast growing up on Nar Shaddaa, believe me. My fighting style ain’t pretty, but it works.
Couple of years back, I helped a guy hiding out on Nar Shaddaa with some work on his YT-2400. Poor girl was old and run-down...she needed a lot of love and no small amount of elbow grease to be set right again. He couldn’t afford to pay me much beyond the raw price of the parts, but he was kinda cute, and I was a little sweet on him, so I barely made any credits for all the work I did. Turns out he was working for Black Sun - he came back a couple of months later to thank me...and in payment for all the work I’d done for him, gave me a Starwind-Class yacht. Now, don’t get all excited, she needed a kark-ton of work. There wasn’t much I didn’t overhaul. It took me two years to finish her, and in that time, mercifully, my dad sobered up.
I put the finishing touches on Shereshoy last week, and packed her up with everything I owned, which really, wasn’t much. Made sure dad was going to be ok, and I took off. Mom’s stories had always stuck with me, and I figured whatever Mandalorians were on Mandalore nowadays would need a good mechanic. If its got an engine, trust me, I can fix it.
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I thought coming back to this might be a good idea. It's been a few months since I sat down and thought about everything that happened, never mind tried to write it out. I destroyed dozens of datapads and flimsis that first month I was back. Desperate to try and make sense of the fact that I was rocketed into the Netherworld and lost everything I held dear. I was lucky I found E'vi when I stumbled out of that portal...because I had six years of living in hell to wake up from.
Seriously, those sentences barely make any sense, but there's nothing I can do to make them any more sensible. Half of the galaxy was thrown into turmoil with people torn out of their lives and pitched into the Nether. I lost everything. Kad, my sons...my clan and what was left of my family...gone. There's nothing left...I don't even know why I came back. I should have just died.
But here I am. Still alive. Too karking stubborn to just lie down and die.
Its been a year since I walked back out of that portal on Tatooine.
Time to live again.
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