Klafaye, Ch'Jarklara

[jaylafaye]

[atrb=style,background-image: url('http://www.desktopwallpaperhd.com/wallpapers/27/23276.jpg');,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][cs=2] Ch’Jarklara Klafaye Femme, 31, Indie

Play-By: Sash Name: Ch’Jarklara Klafaye Nicknames: Lara, Jackie LaFaye, Faye Age: 31 Sex: Hell, yes. [femme] Species: Kiffar Home World: Kiffex Faction: Independent Title: N/A Rank: N/A Force Sensitive: No Hair: Black, Shoulder-Length, Slightly Curly Eyes: Grey-Green Body Shape: Athletic Height: 5’ 10” Weight: 146 Scars, Piercings, Tattoos: Facial markings in red ink distinguishing her as Klafaye Kiffar; prison tats running outer left arm’s length; bow, lower back. Clothing and Armor: Lara has worn both breeches as well as dresses. She is a huge fan of purple and black, but she will [grudgingly] wear other colors. Some of her favorite conservative wardrobe pieces include this piece of modern Hapan fashion, this simplistic dress from Kalgo 13, this beautiful Naboo evening gown, a Coruscanti party dress, and her mission attire (though strictly for professional events - never casual ones). Her cold-weather attire she rarely dons, saving it only for those occasions when she knows it will be far too cold for anything even remotely stylish (although, according to a Rodian stripper, this outfit is all the rage on Cadomai Prime). Her mission attire is equipped with a personal shield generator, which keeps her protected from most blaster bolts without the bulk and weight of physical armor slowing her down. Weaponry: There isn’t much an ex-con fresh from the cooler has on her, but you do learn a few things behind bars - like how to sharpen a “lost” toothbrush until it’s fit to gouge out an eye; jamming the blunt end into a bar of prison-issue soap gives it a better grip (unless you’re stupid enough to let it get wet). This is what’s called a shiv and it’s the most basic weapon Lara possesses; she made two of them in prison and always keeps them on her - one in each boot. One of the brushes is red; the other is blue. Apparently, the prison didn’t have purple or black ones and they were all out of green. She also possesses a vibroknife sharp enough to slice through just about anything on someone’s body. The battery installed in the hilt makes it strong enough to cut through bone. She traded a shirt for this (see history). Lara took an accelerated charged particle repeater gun from one of the women she got her fighter from. It fires top-loading cartridges each containing forty particle charges. The medium-range gun had a huge tendency to overheat, significantly lowering its accuracy about half-way through a cartridge, but an in-built cooling system kept the barrel from melting. She also took about a dozen cartridges and the gun was loaded; there was a second gun, but she sold it. Resources: (click thumb for full-size image) Kiff-1, as Lara calls her fighter, is a larger fighter primarily designed for defense. It has heavy armor that slows its standard speed by roughly 70%, but 65% of that drop in potential velocity is recovered by the huge twin engines in the back; each one is a half-circle and the flat edges face one another. Another 5% is lost with the weapons: two forward-facing, top-mounted medium blaster cannons; a left-hand, bottom-mounted ion cannon; and a right-hand, bottom-mounted proton torpedo bay. Overall, only 10% of the vehicle’s original speed has actually been lost. Appearance: Most people can sum Lara up in one word: creepy. It’s not that she’s hideous; actually, she’s beautiful. On the subject of beauty alone, she could easily get any man (or woman) she wanted. The problem is that she rarely speaks and tends to hang around behind the scenes until there’s a fight (or until she’s ready to start one). She eyes everyone with the same calculating, almost mischievous look - as though she’s deciding what sauce to cook you in or how best to steal your girlfriend. While she might not look like the muscle in a given group and the average hot-blooded male wouldn’t give anything but her private assets much thought, her fixed gaze can be unnerving. Of course, there’s also the fact that she blinks as rarely as she speaks, which compliments her oft-staring eyes perfectly. The rest of her features are usually rather stoic; as with most other things, the biggest exception to this occurs during battle. Her walk is casual to her, but others tend to see it as more of a graceful prowl. Her dresses give her a well-off look, but this is easily countered by her apparent notice of everything going on around her. She rarely misses a thing and it shows in a fight; she seems to anticipate actions against her almost before the person taking them knows exactly what they plan to do. But while she is a fierce and vicious fighter, her out-of-action (be that battle or sex) demeanor is exactly the opposite. Sometimes she looks bored or impatient, and she often is in long conversations, but her demeanor can change from callous to pissed or passionate with frightening velocity. In this, one might say she hides her emotions well - when she feels like it. Strengths: Situational Improvisation Fisticuffs Small-Arms Melee Combat (e.g. shivs, vibroknives) Kissing Bedchamber Activities Learns Quickly Adapts Quickly to Changing Situations Speeder/Speeder Bike/Speeder Truck Piloting Weaknesses: Shooting Medium-Arms Melee Combat Large-Arms Melee Combat Galactic Basic (speaks broken Basic) Cooking (setting things on fire is easy for her, though) Giving a Damn (unless she’s getting something out of it) Twi’leks (like candy to a five-year-old) Goals: Get Rich (yeah, she’s shallow) Bed a Senator (or similarly powerful woman) Run a Harem Find the Perfect Slave Partner Annihilate the Kiffex Prison Fears: Claustrophobia (moderate) Solitary Confinement (no light, sound, company, or view; severe) Afterlife (the idea of being dead; mild) Personality: Much of the tribal aggression of the past has vanished from modern Kiffari society, the clan rivalries having died out long ago. Regardless, there are a number of similarities between the Kiffar and the Wookies. One major difference, of course, is the lack of hair. Another is that Kiffar have often been construed as particularly cruel to their enemies. Even today, though, there are some Kiffar who are outright violent. Lara has always been an aggressive fighter, preferring to beat someone to death instead of merely shooting them. She got used to using shivs in prison because it’s what was expected - and often-times required - but she rarely pulls one now unless she’s sure she’ll need it. She’s typically the last one to pull a weapon despite being the first one to pick a fight. This makes her an excellent pirate, however, and she’s happy to take something that isn’t hers as long as she can enjoy taking it; just walking off with it is no fun - there’d better be a fist fight involved or it isn’t worth it to her. On a more personal level, she likes to be in control but doesn’t mind someone else taking the reins as long as three simple rules are adhered to: they know what the hell they’re doing; she gets to beat the crap out of someone eventually; and she gets to do whatever she wants with her “spoils”. Of course, her spoils are typically what drives her in most cases: partners of the female variety - and by partners, she means any dame she can kidnap and…uh…do things to. Part of her controlling nature is disallowing others to know much about her; in her mind, anything before prison isn’t worth discussing and isn’t anyone’s business besides. When asked about her past, she tends to either clam up or get pissed (depending on the question and the person asking). She rarely get close to anyone, but the closer she is to someone, the more likely she is to open up - but only in private. History: Lara wasn’t born on either of her homeworlds. She was born in the vacuum of space, her mother living aboard a starship orbiting the planet at the time. She raised Lara there, with only a semi-distant view of her twin homeworlds and the understanding that she existed solely to polish and transport the various speeders, speeder bikes, and speeder trucks her father fixed and rebuilt to earn his living. When she entered puberty, she was considered old enough to be trusted with cargo and thus started piloting the speeder trucks from one starship to another and back. She was trusted with loading and unloading cargo and she was trusted to collect money, of which she never received any. When she was fifteen, she took her inheritance early and fled to Kiffu, where she met and married a fellow Kiffari female. For six years, everything went great. The pair lived off of Lara’s inheritance and her wife’s vibrobattery business. While Lara was obviously the controlling party in their relationship, Dona (Th’Donaki Thiskal, Lara’s wife) never said much about it - until ten years ago. Lara had just turned twenty-one and had gone out for some drinks. When she returned, she was slightly drunk; she made sweet, rough love to her wife just like she always did. The next morning, she had just showered when the authorities showed up. By nightfall, she found out she had been accused of rape by her wife. She called her parents; her father bailed her out - and then promptly disowned her. She returned to her wife, they argued, and she ended up beating the woman to death. The authorities responded to the screaming only to find Lara standing over her wife’s bloody, bruised, and broken corpse; she was crying, though they were mostly tears of anger. There wasn’t a weapon in sight, but the blood on Lara’s fist and shirt told the story well enough. Three days later, she entered maximum security on Kiffex for the first time. Lara remembers well her first day in prison. She was put in with two female cell mates; in there, no one cared what happened to her. She struggled at first, but they double-teamed her. On the plus side, they really knew how to please a woman - being women themselves. They did it again a week later. The third time - day fifteen - Lara got the upper hand and beat the crap out of one of them; her victim was transferred to another block when she was finally released from the infirmary. The other cell mate Lara had her way with every day from that point on for the next four years. Then her twenty-fifth birthday came around and a new lady guard came in. She said she had a birthday present for Lara. She said if Lara was real nice, she'd put her on laundry detail - which was a minimum security job. So Lara did her. The guard even got Lara’s remaining cell mate transferred down there and there was a nice little redhead from some distant world (she’d apparently murdered two people trying to steal a ship - which she obviously failed to do) to play with, too. Five years passed. Leila (Th’Leiknala LenPlar, Lara’s first “plaything”) was released for good behavior; in reality, she’d bribed the warden. Ek’Thana Ranil, her second plaything, had been transferred to another block; Lara was left with the guard-lady to play with; said guard was hideous and mean. For Lara’s last year, all she had was “that psychopath” raping her; she received plenty of cigars out of the deal, which she traded for a favor: the guard brought in a huge, translucent, purple “toy” she thought Lara wanted the guard to use on her. About a month before Lara got out, she took that thing and shoved down the guard’s throat; she suffocated and no one wanted to figure out how that had happened, so Lara received no punishment for that. She did steal the toy from evidence later, though; might as well use it on herself, right? When Lara got out, she was told she had some clothes missing; her undergarments and shirt had apparently been stolen - probably by that lady guard. She got a spare shirt from one of the lady-guards on the condition she return it when she didn't need it anymore. Lara’s parole officer gave her some cash with which to buy some clothes; she traded the shirt to a former employee of her late wife for a vibroknife and kept the cash. Lara went to a cantina for a meal and left without paying; she broke into her old house (which had been abandoned after her wife’s murder) and took a shower alone for the first time in a decade. She was also warned by her parole officer when she was dropped off on Kiffu: don’t come back to Kiffex. The high level of alert that the prison had been on for the last eight years was apparently due to the release of Anzati - a race of people that literally sucked out people’s brains and seemed to live forever. She could have cared less; ancient legends held no meaning for her beyond something to scare the intelligence out of children who pestered her on Kiffu (or anywhere else, for that matter). But the guard seemed terrified and eager to get rid of her, so she let it go. She hasn’t given the warning a second thought. One of her first stops the morning after her release was a cantina. She had a few drinks and eyed the local cuisine. After about an hour, she followed two of them out to their fighter. It was a large fighter, one perfect for quickly overtaking and ramming smaller transports - or disabling larger ones. One of the women went on-board; the other stayed behind to make sure everything was good to go. That was her mistake. The thing about the throat is, it’s easy to kill someone by cutting it; it’s harder to just cut the vocal cords. Her psychometry had made Lara a lethally accurate fighter in prison, and it served her well now as she prevented her first out-of-prison lover from making a sound. She fought, but so did the women in prison at first; in the end, she was only an average bit of fun. She was no top-level dessert. But she was an appetizer; the other woman was the one Lara really wanted. She had to beat the woman bloody before she could have her way with her, but that was all right; she cleaned her up and had her fun. Then she loaded up both women, used her psychometry and speeder experience to figure out the basics of controlling the fighter, and took off. She hasn’t returned to Kiffu since. When she neared Tatooine early in 22 BBY, she was intercepted by a small, Hutt-controlled cruiser. They thought they had captured a great fighter and a beautiful slave; speaking through a semi-functioning protocol droid the Hutts owned, Lara convinced them to let her go if she won a game of dice. She won several and was allowed to fly down to the planet’s surface. She used her winnings to rent a small, private hangar in Mos Espa; she wandered the spaceport for a while, taking in the scene, before finally finding herself sitting down in a cantina for a drink - and that’s how it all began… Years of Training: N/A Base: Kiff-1 Profession: Mercenary Name: Controlled Chaos, Chaos, CC Age: 28 Sex: M Years of RP: At least 8. I’ve forgotten exactly how long, though it’s probably closer to ten. Activity: Couple times a week; more often next quarter due to reduced work load. Where Did You Find Us: Caution; PM invitation from Infected (Alice). RP Sample: If there was a god, he existed solely to tempt mortals and immortals alike with the fruits of His labor. Some considered vampirism a curse; he had been born with it and did not think so. But even he, as long as he had lived, found it difficult to withstand the temptations of the flesh. Women were…almost mystical, like something from an old legend. They were Stonehenge in human form: beautiful, awesome, and yet so damned mysterious. Those who had been turned, however, held mysteries no mortal could fathom. They held a power no mortal could resist. Fortunately, Ruaidhrí was not mortal. He was immune to many of the charms that so enthralled mortal men (and women). Yet, as he looked upon the beautiful maiden before him, he could not help but wonder if she was as proper beneath that dress of hers as she appeared while wearing it. The dress was nothing fancy, certainly not of the same social class as his own attire; it wasn’t something you could wear to a ball. But it fit her well and gave the female vampire a look of importance, which was all that was needed when the only thing to truly set your people part was age. Her hair flowed like a river of silk down her back and she walked with a confidence and searching eye that only a vampire could have. Aye, she was most definitely one of the undead. The Sun Society sought to destroy all vampires; they were hunters, pure and simple. They had tried to recruit Ruaidhrí more than once, but he had no problem with vampires. Some people needed to be ended. On the other hand, there were many innocents that were slain as a result of the necessity to feed - but one could only alter one’s destiny; fate was another matter entirely. One could not change what one was; one could only chance who one was. Ruaidhrí had therefore refused to join. He was wary of the undead simply because they had a huge chip on their shoulder; they always had something to prove to dhampir, something to gain by trying to recruit them into their clan or get them to move into the city of their Prince. But overall, vampires weren’t necessarily bad people. In many ways, personally as well as in terms of his necessary lifestyle and his abilities, he was very much like them. Regardless of any wariness he might have had, some of it perhaps slightly emphasized by his unconscious touching of the felt bag tied to his belt at the hip, respect was of paramount importance to him. He didn’t know how old this vampire was or what positions she held within the vampire community, so it was only fair to assume that she deserved as much respect as any common vampire - for the time being. He thus offered her a small nod as he watched the way she moved. ”Tráthnóna an chéasta, madam. Enjoying the exhibits, I trust?” His only thought was that she’d best not try to stop him from liberating this artwork. It was only right that Irish history be in the hands of the Irish, so totally wrong for it to be in the hands of the English, and perfectly acceptable to do what was necessary to right that wrong in the mind of Ruaidhrí. OH, AND THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY DUCK DUCK'S NOT A GOOSE

[/COLOR] AT CAUTION 2.0. DON'T STEAL. IT'S DOUCHEY.[/div][/center][/td][/tr]
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