- Joined
- Dec 13, 2016
- Messages
- 319
- Reaction score
- 300
BIOGRAPHY
FULL NAME: Ribs
AGE: 26
SPECIES: Sephi
HOMEWORLD: Nar Shaddaa
FACTION: Independent
RANK: Veteran
ALIGNMENT: Communalism
FORCE-SENSITIVE: No
HEIGHT: 5"9
WEIGHT: 68 kgs
COMPLEXION: Pale
HAIR COLOR: Muck Hazel
EYE COLOR: Lime
STRENGTH:
██████████
DEXTERITY:
██████████
STAMINA:
██████████
INTELLIGENCE:
██████████
WISDOM:
██████████
CHARISMA:
██████████
BEGIN MEMORY SHARD #00000006: "I LOVE MY MOON"
Nar Shaddaa kissed me, or something like that. Now my face was muddy puddled today, but I didn't hate it. What was good was I held onto you, my Fish, really tight. When I sat up, I bit you really hard, so hard your little bones went crackle and your wiggling gave up and you could see it was like fruit inside! Peach! But actually, that colour is pink. Colours are special things, you know, around here. Everything is dark and dirty and yuck, but sometimes there are bright, glowy signs or inside fishes to make things different. It's good to enjoy every day you have. My big friend told me that!
Fish doesn't taste very good, terrible actually, and all slimey and scaly and salty, but I liked you. I was salty too, obviously. Across from me, in a different puddle, there was Mr. Half-A-Person. He was my big friend, and he said I could call him that when he went to sleep. I knew him for a while, but I think he's dead now, like you are, basically. Hey, did you know we all have bones, even you and me?
All my fingers were mucked with charcoaly paste, and most of my body actually, too. You couldn't move without feeling like something was hanging onto you, because something was always hanging onto you. I nibbled some more around the white spikes. I watched as the puddles didn't run, they walked across the street, which was empty and black, except for the wind, and Mr. Half-A-Person, and me. But a street across, bootsteps shuffled and scattered in my direction, so I figured what to do, and slid into some hideaway black black corner somewhere, where even I couldn't see my nose.
"The kriff was that?" The boots heard me.
"Rib-cat. You get used to them."
"I swear it was bigger. And don't you smell something? Rotting." Boots came real close now, and I realised they were actually high-heels. "I have a fucking awful feeling about this."
"Well, welcome to Nar Shaddaa, darling. People die here. Like rats."
Then they found Mr. Half-A-Person, and if he wasn't before, heels was definitely jittery now. "Oh holy shit babe, he's been blown in half. Omigod. Oh, that's so, so disgusting. Let's get out of here."
I really needed to pee, so, thankfully, they did get out of here, and scuttled away. Like crabs. Now there was one more puddle on the street, and I finished with you, and I found a nice no-puddle spot after looking a while and I lied down and after a long, long time, I dreamt of when Mr. Half-A-Person was Mr. All-Of-A-Person, and when you were our pet.
MEMORY SHARD #00002917: YEAH, WE'RE SKIPPING A BIT, TRY TO KEEP UP
Name: Ribs.
Age: 17.
Orientation: Driekasian-Marzian Communalism.
So... what do I write here? I wasn't exactly schooled in writing applications of this sort, you know. I feel like you're really missing your target audience by requiring these. But what do I know?
Well, let's start from the top, I guess. My name. It would be really convenient for the both of us if I could tell you a neatly packaged story about how someone chose my name for me, or maybe how I chose it myself, but I don't remember, frankly. Use your imagination, I don't care—as far as I'm concerned, I've always been Ribs. Yeah, it probably has something to do with my having been a hungry little thing who by all accounts should not have survived childhood, but beyond that, well, only Kika'lekki knows.
With that out of the way, I'm sure all you really wanted to know was why I'm applying to join at all. If I can be trusted, that sort. In which case, slow yourself, I'm getting to it. Ever since those days, darting from home to home and burying everything that happened, I've found myself in all sorts of trouble with those "in charge"—the Syndicates, the Hutts, or anyone else, really. It's not hard to get why. The only people I could feel safe with were those like me, of course. The kinds that took me in growing up—the kinds who knew what it meant to have nothing and still have the world. Everyone deserves that, don't they? The world? I think the worst kinds of people are the ones who don't cherish it enough while they still can. Actually, no, those are the second worst.
The worst kinds of people take away others' worlds.
Even on this moon, where worlds disappear like dust and breath, I never forgot how important it is to have the world. I don't care about taking other people's things—stealing from those who have, or defacing things people pretend are their own comes natural to a girl who never had. But taking away someone's world? The people who do that, I never really was able to hold in any kind of high regard. All that being said, at my last place, there was this Rodian guy—you know the one, he recruited me—who blew out a Hutt's brains. It may have even been on my behalf. You know, it was the kind of Hutt who had taken away other people's worlds. The kind who had grown so old, so blind to the spirit of living, that they were willing to shred others' lives at a whim. He hurt me once, when I was younger. Yet, just like that, he'd hurt no one again. Just like that, more worlds would, most likely, stay intact. And everything would still be dreadful, but it would be dreadful without him. Somehow I found comfort in that, and I guess that was when I was radicalized to the people's cause. It was simply, in some sense, to my own.
Application Approved — Forever May You Stand Beneath the Scarlet Jack
END MEMORY FRAGMENT RECOVERY — — — ENDED.
BEGIN PROFILE LEVEL: CONFIDENTIAL —
As young as 26, Ribs may be considered a veteran of the communalist cause on Nar Shaddaa. Ever since joining up aged 17, she is known to have participated in various illegal activities on behalf of the communalists, as well as writing prolifically in their underground HoloZine, The Crimson Corsair. Infamously, she was briefly wanted for having attempted to assassinate an allegedly corrupt senator at his wedding. Despite being captured once, Ribs was broken out of jail by her comrades—at this time the movement was clearly at the height of their power and influence. However, considering the shift in recent years to a power structure in which the Five Syndicates reign Nar Shaddaa, she is no longer actively wanted for the time being. Furthermore, many communalist organisations have been utterly ravaged by the recent AMS plague, and it seems very few members of her experience remain.
Recommendation: Continue to monitor.
— — ENDED.
PERSONALITY
PRACTICAL SKILLS
■■■■■ Slicing | ■■■■■ Survival | ■■■■■ Tracking |
■■■■■ Hunting | ■■■■■ Leadership | ■■■■■ Thievery |
COMBAT SKILLS
■■■■■ Blasters | ■■■■■ Rifles | ■■■■■ Misc. |
■■■■■ Demo. | ■■■■■ H2H | ■■■■■ Daggers |
EDUCATION
■■■■■ Huttese | ■■■■■ Mando'a | ■■■■■ Twi'leki |
■■■■■ Tactics | ■■■■■ Politics | ■■■■■ Espionage |
As far as her personality is concerned, Ribs is all over the place. Having been raised in many different homes with no sturdy parent figures to call family, she never learnt to keep within social conventions, and will often behave according to her simple, random compulsions, with little regard as to the opinions of others. When she needs to, though, she can keep in line—it just doesn't come easily. Despite her irreverence in the face of others, she does care about the people around her, and is driven by a strong moral conviction that the cause she pursues is just.
LEGACY
EQUIPMENT
Last edited: