╫ N I A A M I ╫ S O L A S ╫
The Unseen Hand
NAME: Niaami Solas
FACTION: Not Applicable
SPECIES: Human, Polynean
EYES: Dark Brown
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes; Untrained
There is nothing inherently remarkable about this particular street urchin, in fact she has the kind of face you'd overlook in a crowd and her impoverished state certainly helps that along. She belongs to the dregs of society, those that most will quickly walk past while clutching at their credits, pretending not to have noticed while ignoring any requests they make for financial aid. Her hair is mousy brown and most often pulled back into a disheveled ponytail or braid, and her clothes remain perpetually dirty and torn - a patchwork of scrap cloth covering the larger holes. The dark pools which make up her eyes are perhaps the only thing which sets her apart from those she runs with, such a deep brown that they appear almost onyx, but even those would require someone to actually study her face in order to be noticed. Truth be told she prefers it that way, because the less attention she's paid the more she can get away with doing.
Some people are born into a status they can never escape, to a family so far under that there's no way to swim to the surface much less rise above it to soar. Every day is a fight for survival, a choice between sustenance or shelter, and morality must be forsaken. Niaami never had a chance, much less a choice. The only child of two Polynean vagabonds, it was clear from the start that she had been an unexpected addition to the streets of their home. Some might even argue unwanted. An extra mouth to feed, another body to clothe, and a drain on time. Despite all that her parents did all they could to keep her alive, and when she was old enough to follow their example she was put to work skimming credits from those who would not even notice them gone.
Such a lifestyle often leads to a very hardy and self sufficient individual, and Niaami proved to be no exception. She stole what she needed, when she needed it, and learned the hard way how necessary it was for her to be swift and nimble lest she be caught and pay for her crimes. That had been the fate of many of the urchins she'd been raised alongside, the other gutter rats, until only the deft remained. When her parents were taken in by the village patrol any semblance of a safety net was removed from beneath her, but she continued on all the same. After all, what was the worst that could happen? At least her parents would be fed and sheltered where they were, which was more than most could say.
More recently she has become a little more daring in her exploits, taking larger prizes in the hopes of squirreling away enough to pay for her parents' release, and her gamble seems to have paid off. She has netted herself a satchel of strange items, including what looked to be the hilt of a vibroknife without the blade. It's broken, however, inner circuitry sticking out of its base, but she believes that she can one day fix it up to replace her far more primitive knives. And in the meantime, she can only hope that its owner does not manage to track her down. After all, she couldn't recognize most of what lay within the bag...
Not Yet Applicable
╫ For Those Below [x]
╫ Friends In Low Places [x]
Edited by Niaami Solas, 14 August 2019 - 02:01 PM.