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b]Name: Character's Name: Amyr Rolsk
Gender: Female
Species: What species is your character? Shistavanens: Link Here
Alignment: Sith; Amyr is a loner with a passionate view of the Force
Age: How old is your character? 24 years; should be the same in human years
Homeplanet: Where is your character from? small colony on moon of Uvena Prime
Previous occupation/training: Scout,bounty hunter, pilot, trader; Amyr began to notice her
sensitivity to the Force when she was in her early teens and learning to be a scout. She had the uncanny ability to locate people when others could not find them. As she got older, another pilot and Sith Master, Dyu-Lei taught her how to use the Force as a weapon, an extension of her body. As such, she also learning shielding. She has worked as a pilot/bounty hunter for hire lately while running missions for the Temple as well.
Appearance: What does your character look like? Amyr has dark honey-red fur covering the majority of her body. Her ears and the tip of her tale are a darker mahogany red with the pads of her hands and feet a lighter strawberry blonde color. When standing up tall, Amyr stands at 1.7 meters. She prefers to wear a tunic that is a dark hunter green or a dark beige color-both are accompanied by a black belt and black pants that are tight at the waist and loose in the legs. She has two pieces of leather, each about 2 feet long wrapped around her wrists. A plain gold collar adorns her neck. When necessary, Amyr has her formal robes given to her by Dyu-Lei. She also has a gold two piece outfit, a gold wrap and pants similar to her black ones.
Personality: What does your character act like? Amyr is true to her heritage and is a loner by nature. She is very suspicious of most humans, with the exception of Dyu-Lei, who trained her, and the Masters she has met at the Temple. Amyr, when forced to interact with others, is very short-tempered and to the point. There is a bitterness about her that keeps a wall around her inner self so that no one can even try to get close. She does not say more than is necessary and will not speak at all when she deems a question or person beneath her.
Lightsaber: Crystal type, blade color, and hilt design:
History: They were born... and then what happened? Amyr was on a small colony on moon of Uvena Prime. Her parents were both bounty hunters by trade who did not truly care for the children they had but merely were interested in continuing their line. When she was around three years old, her parents abandoned her. Amyr's paternal grandmother raised her along with a younger sister, Cassyn. Her grandmother resented having to raise them and kicked them out when she deemed them old enough to take care of themselves. Amyr and Cassyn worked in the bar of the main trading post, Dazzre's Outlook. Cassyn trained with a Twi'lek dancer and left. Amyr became friends with some of the bar riffraff and managed to get a job on the bounty ship, Damath's Control. The captain of the ship, an Ubese named Damath, trained her in being a bounty hunter. He taught her the fine arts of using different blaster guns and rare double bladed cortosis vibroswords. There is speculation that Damath was Amyr's first lover but she refuses to speak on the matter. Several years later, she met a "trader" named Dyu-Lei. An older man in his fifties, Dyu-Lei recognized the talent that Amyr had at finding other people along with quicker reflexes. Secretly, he began to train her in the ways of the Sith. With Dyu-Lei honing her already razor-sharp instincts, Amyr became a competitor to Damath rather than an ally and he kicked her off his ship. With the credits she had, Amyr managed to buy a small transport ship. She went back to the Outlook and began to hire herself out as a pilot and trader. Amyr soon gained a reputation as a person not to go back on when a deal was made... At the age of twenty-one, she went looking for the New Jedi/Sith training temple mentioned to her by Dyu-Lei in one of his messages to her. Amyr simply turned up with a reference from Dyu-Lei and hasn't truly left since...
Prompt A, B, or C: Pick one and respond to it. Be sure to let us know which prompt you're answering.
B: ...Oh, yuck! Your character's been assigned to oversee the temple kitchens for the afternoon and to prepare this evening's meal! Are they happy about this situation, or do they seek to push off responsibility on someone else? What do they decide to cook - does it turn out well? Or does hilarity ensue?
REPLY:
Amyr sniffed as she walked into the kitchen. The smell of school food waifed in the air: a strange combination of vegetables and other food she deemed non-edible caused a gag reflex. How has she managed to get talked into cooking tonight's dinner? She hated cooking! In fact, her race was quite happy to rip apart some furry little creature and just dig in. Rare was the preferred way to serve any meat and with a tankard of something alcoholic, well... Food for the snobs for sure.
Her ears twitched as the kitchen droids approached her. She grimaced. There was something unnerving about droids. As metallic beasts of burden, she could not smell their intention, what they wanted. Anyone could program a droid for trouble and only one person would know it's purpose until it acted out.
She had experience in such things.
Trying to concentrate on dinner, Amyr moved further into the Temple galley. How many did she have to cook for tonight? Twenty? Thirty? Rubbing her paws on her eyes, she focused. Taking a deep breath, she pushed forward. Thirty-eight was the answer. Now where to begin? The Masters preferred a well rounded meal for their students. A silver-gold droid hummed to get her attention.
"Mistress Amyr. I am kitchen droid Eight-Oh-Four. I have been assigned to assist you in tonight's food preparations. If I may make the suggestion, with so many to feed, a good stew and bread is always a treat. Easy to make and very filling."
She flicked her tail at the annoying droid but he did have a point.
"Fine. Start cooking."
Eight-Oh-Four gave a small bow. "As you wish. Shall I ask one of the other droids to start chopping the meat or-"
"I can handle that, thank you!" Answering in a sharp voice, Amyr turned and walked away. She growled to herself. Ears down flat, she moved towards the counter. There was a huge leg of...something...on a cutting board along with a large and very sharp butcher knife. Now she grinned. Weapons, even simple ones, gave her small pleasure. Taking the silver gleaming device, Amyr began to chop finger sized pieces of meat and put them in a pile. Occasionally, she would pop a bloody piece in her mouth and munch happily. Working steadily, a pile of meat was growing beside her. Behind her, the kitchens droids worked busily in order to serve dinner on time.
Soon, her hand began to hurt. Setting the blade down, Amyr turned around and gasped. The kitchen was a disaster! The water for the stew was boiling over and the bread in the oven was growing at a frightening rate. Confused and angry, Amyr looked for Eight-Oh-Four but the silver-gold droid was no where to be found. The hissing of water on the cook top sounded exactly like the angry hiss that escaped her mouth. "What the Hell happened? I thought you were kitchen droids!" Slamming her fist into the counter, Amyr looked around. She ran to the cook top first and turned the water off; the herbs and simple roots added for flavor were boiled to mush and ruined. Tackling the bread next, Amyr grabbed it from the oven, cursing as she burned her hands. The dough was still goey on top and burnt on the bottom.
"Oh dear." A hollow, metallic voice responded behind her. Eight-Oh-Four entered from the side door that lead towards laundry.
"What happened?" A normally quiet Amyr screamed.
"My sincerest apologies, Mistress Amyr. I had to go assist Aye-Five-Que-Nine in the laundry. I gave specific directions to the others on how the meal was supposed to be prepared. In fact-"
 Naree · Thu Jul 10, 2008 @ 12:33am · 0 Comments |
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