The Bounteous Hunt
Thrill of the Hunt
NAME: Sybil Manneseh (Might be affectionately called "Syby", or "Neseh")
FACTION: N/a (Wish to be Jedi Padawan)
RANK: Padawan
SPECIES: Human
AGE: 12
SEX: Female
HEIGHT: 1.3 meters
WEIGHT: 35 kilograms
EYES: Blue
HAIR: Blonde
SKIN: Fair
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes
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STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES (Required: 2 Weaknesses Minimum):
(+) Oracle. Intuitive precognition user with the curse of consistent force visions, and everything else that came with this superior connection to precognition.
(+) Fortune Teller. Only requires touching someone upon their flesh to know what will become of them, if their path does not cross hers enough in the future to know them already.
(-) Amnesiac. She does not remember who she was, who she met, who had died, or anything beyond a five minute time span, as after that everything is forgotten.
(-) Manipulated. Her reality can be changed on a dime, by a mere suggestion from a complete stranger. She is easily manipulated, but cannot be corrupted in her innocent nature.
APPEARANCE: Sybil is a frail little girl, fair in all her attributes, and holds a body much smaller than the average size for her age. Often times, her fair, innocent, and childish complexion disturbs others because it is at odds with her innate ability to know someone. She is often dressed in white dresses, and little else. She is not meant for combat at all, but her body seems to be very quick, agile, and flexible. The attributes of youth.
BIOGRAPHY:
835 ABY
Sybil Manneseh does not remember where she came from, who her parents were, whether or not she had friends or if she even went to school. She doesn't know anything about her self... well, except for what she will experience. All of her life, the young Oracle has been plagued with an uncanny foresight... yet also plague with the inability to remember herself. Her minds eyes has been forced front words, and its peripheral vision blocked. The poor child would not even know her own name if not for the cruel.
There was a man, who had found her... probably wandering from where ever it was she had come from. As she approached him he heard her faint playful whispering. It seemed to be poetry, a lullaby, a childhood rhyme. But listening to it, a sense of foreboding eeriness washed over him. It was about him. That was impossible of course, how could a child he had never seen know him? Further more, how could this child make a song about him? He listened to it carefully.
Ha, ha, Blake Sheen,
Have you any cruel?
Yes sir, yes sir,
Three bags full.
Yes sir, yes sir,
Three bags full.
One for the mister,
One for the dame,
And one for the little boy
Who died down the lane
One for the dame,
And one for the little boy
Who died down the lane
Ha, ha, Blake Sheen,
Have you any cruel?
Yes sir, yes sir,
Three bodies full.
Have you any cruel?
Yes sir, yes sir,
Three bodies full.
How did she know? No one knew of his murderous crimes! His knife itched at the sound of her otherwise innocent tune, which was at odds to the message it sent. Blake Sheen was a terrible terrible man, who had killed an entire family, out of spite of the woman who left him for his brother. It was amazingly covered up, and know one knew about it, or could figure it out. But this innocent girl, who he had never seen in his life, somehow manage to exactly depict that story of himself in a nursery rhyme. It left room for questioning, so he grabbed the girl and took her to a place where no onlooker could see. He shook her violently as he did this, but to his amazement the girl did not struggle or cry. Thrown off by the girl who merely stared back at him, and shook her again as he spoke.
"How do you who I am? Who else knows? Answer me!" He demanded she spill the beans on the knowledge she held. How? How is that possible? Was the thought that raced through his head. With all the innocents of a child she answered with words only an adult should be able to use.
"You're familiar. I think I will know you later, me and you. Funny, I don't remember what you were though, but... I think you've told me about yourself at some point... in your sleep. Yes, you talk in your sleep... all the time, so guilty! I wonder what you regret so much." She answered him. Listening to the girl, Blake Sheen began to perspire, and shake not from anger but from fear. He dropped her from the wall she was pressed against and he backed up from the mere child. He took out his knife, and became fearfully frustrated when the child simply didn't react... to anything.
"What are you?" He said with his voice braking. A finger went to her lip, and face furrowed as she seemed to think about it.
"I believe you will call me Sybil Manneseh, the Prophetess. Oh! Look at all the pretty dresses you buy me!" She seemed to be genuinely thankful and happy, and brought her hands together at her shoulder while she leaned her head against them. Her blank eyes looking into a non-place no other could perceive.
"What do you mean? I haven't bought you any dresses! I think I've heard enough of you, I need to get rid of you." He looked around frantically for a place to "deposit" her. The girl still didn't react, as she swished her skirt back and forth playfully.
"Who are you again?" At that moment Blake Sheen's hysteria reached a climax. He paced back and forth unsure of what to do with himself. What the hell is this crap! This has to be some kind of joke! He thought in his had.
"I feel like you're familiar, but you're a lot sweatier than usual. Can you bring me to the candy store like you always do! Do you think they'll give the good stuff to us if I tell them a story?" She asked with eyes fixated on his. He didn't like this child. But it seemed it was no joke... and she had already proven that she both knew more than she should and knew nothing at all. She was the epitome of innocence... and she could get him rich... get him out of this hell hole. He decided he would ask her one question.
"How rich am I gunna get off of you?" He looked with apprehension towards the girl, his head high and observant, awaiting precariously for an answer.
"You'll own three blocks on coruscant!" She smiled at him, and she heard him sigh in disbelief. He looked excited, and decided they'd go to the candy store and buy her dresses. His life was set! What was fear is now capitalism! If she could make him this scared, and she seemed to be attached to him for some reason, then imagine what he could use her for? He took her head and led her, and she affectionately layed her head upon their hands. Fine then, she's my daughter. That's my story. He thought.
"And then the One Sith will raze it all!"
She giggled, and Blake Sheen never heard that part...
SHIP:
No
KILLS:
No
BOUNTIES COLLECTED:
No
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ROLE-PLAYS:
Soon (TM)
