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𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨.

gris

۞
Joined
Dec 14, 2019
Just a little something to keep me organized.
!!Please don't post here!!
PM me if you're interested in one of my characters.
 
Fandom: Star Wars Wanted canon: Kylo Ren

"You need your own strength in this life. Your own purpose. You can't simply live for others."
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Name: Gella Varos
Age: 19
Height: 5'2"
Strengths: Receptive - Having grown up watching diplomacy happen from the sidelines, Gella knows how to listen and make someone feel important. She enjoys engaging in conversations with others and likes to hear differing opinions, even if she may not agree.

Observant - Gella has spent a lot of time being seen and not heard, but boring as it was, the experience wasn't all bad because she was able to watch people. In turn, she feels like she can interpret a lot about a person from their body language and can usually suss out an underlying problem from the voice of someone she is close with. This skill also comes in handy when meeting new people, which Gella does often, as she is able to pick up on and mirror their energy if necessary.

Driven - Despite being born into privilege, the princess works hard and puts effort into all that she does. She is someone who likes to study and considers herself knowledgeable; a person can never be too prepared to one day take over a kingdom.

Self-assured - Just a different kind of confidence, Gella knows who she is and what's in her heart and she trusts herself not only to make the right decisions, but to do good throughout the galaxy in the future. It would take some incredible circumstances to shake her up.

Weaknesses: Idealistic - Having a principled stance on things is fine on paper, but that idea of a perfect, better world starts to crumble just a bit when hit with the cold smack of reality. Gella finds that no matter how much she tries to plan and prepare, life isn't always easy or cooperative and sometimes, things just don't work out. Often disappointed by these setbacks, she has yet to learn her lesson of getting her hopes up too high too quick.

Sensitive - Although the princess has a clear sense of self, she is not immune to criticism. For all of her efforts to do the right thing, it's impossible to please everyone. She takes those judgements (whether fair or not) to heart most of the time and ends up dwelling on some failures for much too long. Of course, she would never admit to being bothered by any of that.

Stubborn - If Gella doesn't want to do something, she won't do it. This goes double when it comes to morals; if she believes that she is right about something then she will justify her own bad behavior. If proven wrong, she is unlikely to acknowledge it.

Naive - From the outside looking in, Gella is a well-rounded, well-educated girl, but she is still only nineteen. Limited in real life experiences and shielded from the many unsavory and downright brutal parts of the galaxy and the war effort, Gella underestimates the danger of the First Order and still doesn't understand why it's not a good idea to slip away from her own guards. She believes that, if pushed, she could survive on her own. And if she couldn't, she would still try.

From: Gella is from the planet Hiapra, a lush, temperate planet in the middle of the resource-rich Kalkara system. She is the only child of the royal family and will, one day, assume the throne.

Outfits:
x y z

Note: I got a little carried away and admittedly, most of my posts aren't this long, but I thought it was a good example of my style and what I'm capable of. This isn't meant to be a starter, but it could be if you find it interesting.

The First Order Star Destroyers appeared out of nowhere. Historians and scholars warned the king and queen that this day would come, that news of Supreme Leader Snoke’s death was nothing to celebrate and that the consolidation of power under Kylo Ren would only make the ongoing galactic conflict more dangerous and more brutal. The Resistance had been pushed back to the outer rim, manpower was lacking and now, the regime was one step closer to gaining control of the resource-rich Kalkaran system.

The Royal family was the only thing standing in the way. The house of Varos balked at multiple orders to relinquish control of the planet, bravely declaring that they would rather die under the heels of the First Order than bow to it. King Gaen believed that it was the right thing to do, that it was good for Hiapra to see their leaders acting as a united front, even if some diplomats, nervous to oppose such powerful forces, didn’t agree.

It had been two weeks since the First Order’s Star Destroyers became a fixture in the sky. The ships hovered endlessly in the atmosphere, day and night, like a meteor shower that refused to fall to the surface. When the intimidation tactic didn’t work, the new Supreme Leader sent in troops, directing them to illegally establish bases in Hiapra’s jungles and to surround the capital city of Vapolis. They were cornered, but they weren’t all without hope.

“What will we do?” Queen Tantema asked after the latest comms channel had been cut off. Her seafoam-colored eyes searched the faces in the ornate sitting room. The King had gathered his most trusted confidants for an emergency meeting; the Kalkaran ambassador and his young family, military commanders and generals, along with a small handful of rebels who’d had the misfortune of being caught on planet when the blockade went up. “We can’t get a message out, we can’t reach anyone. Perhaps we should just surrender.”

The thought, mixed heavily with fear, was something that the Ambassador could get behind. “Go peacefully,” he proposed.

King Gaen’s thick brows creased, twinning with his daughter, the princess, across the room. “And then what? I won’t stand by while they strip our planet and use our resources against us!”

Little more than a silhouette in the large, gold-framed window, Gella Varos dutifully filled the role of being seen but not heard. Her conversation with the pilot, Poe Dameron, was a quiet one as the pair watched the menacing Destroyers, like pinpricks on a map, sit silently in the atmosphere. “The southern base,” the blonde went on as the Ambassador continued to plead with the King, “it’s not currently functioning. They’re waiting to repair it after the bombing.”

Like father, like daughter. Gella was disgusted with the First Order and their tactics, and seeing Stormtroopers establish themselves on Hiapra’s beaches made her sick. Her mother hated her involvement with the Resistance, but Gella hated that her orders had gotten even one citizen killed. The guilt was immense, but it was something that the young princess could live with if it meant keeping the planet’s many resources out of the wrong hands. “You can make anything work,” she assured the pilot beside her. “Take off from here and immediately go to lightspeed.”

The droid, BB-8, beeped from the floor between their feet.

“You don’t think the First Order has a hyperdrive?” she asked, her brow raised skeptically. The princess chanced a glance over her shoulder, worried that the Ambassador might get his way. Gella’s father was the epitome of what made a great man, but he was getting older now, growing weary and she worried for his resolve.

Poe, who was leaned up against the window frame with one arm, dropped his other hand away from his hip and breathed a sigh, “they’ll tail me—”

“So lose them.”

“It’s not that simple,” the pilot frowned. “Nothing’s gotten in or out in the last two weeks. You know that.”

The situation felt impossible on the surface, but Gella wasn’t one to give up. “We have to try,” she said. “I could go with you, I could—”

The force of an explosion nearly a mile away rattled the inside of the palace. Marble columns shook in their foundation, ancient vases and plates fell off of their pedestals and the soft tinkling of the crystal chandelier overhead was almost enough to drown out the screams coming from outside. The queen and king got to their feet and Gella pressed herself against the window. She cupped her hands over her eyes, shielding her view from the sun just in time to see First Order troops advancing on the palace. It was chaos as the black and red TIE fighters descended, blasting holes in manned and unmanned defenses like they had never been there at all. Another blast shook the palace, and the screams of abject horror and pleas for mercy became more pronounced as the enemy advanced.

“We have to leave,” the Ambassador said, a new urgency in his voice.

“I’m staying,” Gella declared. The military officers in the room acted immediately, opening Hiapra’s comm channels to the army stationed outside. “We have to fight for what’s ours! We can’t just abandon our people!”

“The security of the royal family is more important than your crusade!” One general barked. There was little room for discussion as the room was forcibly evacuated, pushed toward the escape pods located in the starport. BB-8 rolled on behind them, bobbing and weaving through falling chunks of marble and brick as the assault on the capital continued outside. Gella, her hand like a vice around Poe’s fingers, was still trying to find a way to stay behind.

With all of the blood pulsing through her ears, it was a wonder that she heard the menacing voice over the comm channel at all. Kylo Ren spoke directly to the King, laying blame for the casualties on his inactions. It was all the more reason to stand tall, to protect those who depended on them the most, but the princess didn’t have a chance to re-voice her opinion. The channel cut off and just moments later, a sleek, black, Starfighter crashed through the palace walls. The shock of it knocked the fleeing royals and their advisors off of their feet. One general was buried under a pile of bricks, Queen Tantema was knocked unconscious by falling debris and lay, crumbled in a heap on the floor. Gella didn’t remember screaming, she didn’t remember letting go of Poe’s hand to rush to her mother and father’s side, but time seemed to slow as Stormtroopers poured in through the new hole in the wall.

Blasters went off in every direction, hitting Hiapran military left and right. Bodies, both friendly and combatant, fell to the floor as the generals tried their best to secure the royal family, still desperate to get them to their escape pods. The Ambassador’s young song, the boy that Gella had spent hours tutoring over the long summer, was trampled by ever-advancing troops. None of that was bad enough, none of it felt real until a blue beam of light hit the king squarely between the shoulders.

King Gaen, immortalized in a now-tattered tapestry that hung in the foyer, his once black hair now grey, bled feebly in his daughter’s lap. “Father!” she wept, her voice hoarse among the pandemonium. “Father!” she screamed again, desperate, but met with nothing more than a gurgle of pain. Her brown eyes welled with tears, sadness and then anger and the overwhelming desire for revenge.

The motionless body of a soldier laid nearby, his weapon out in the open and for the taking by Gella’s feet. It felt completely foreign in her delicate hand and her other arm remained wrapped around her father’s shoulders as he continued to bleed onto her T-shaped dress. She aimed the weapon just seconds after the Starfighters doors opened, like a hungry mouth, and fired into the blackness.
 
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Original character slice of life, f/f preferred

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Name: Lily Zimmer
Age: 18

The valedictorian had said it best that afternoon: it was the end of an era. In a post-graduation haze, thrust from the rhythmic, everyday grind of high school classes and extracurriculars, and out into the real world with nothing more than dreams of a bright future, Lily Zimmer found herself hanging onto her roots for just a bit longer. The athletic eighteen year old was a fixture at house parties, and she looked like a natural among the crowd, red solo cup in hand as she talked brightly with anyone who approached her. Cheap beer only ever made her more sociable, but even without the liquid courage, Lily’s social circle was wide from years on the soccer team.

“I’m going to get another drink,” Xavier, a boy from the football team and her lab partner from chemistry that year, said. He raised his glass and cut their conversation about college short, “you want anything?”

Lily shook her head, “I’m good.” Xavier shrugged and promised to catch up with her before departing for the kegs that were set up in the kitchen. Breathing a decompressing sigh, Lily bit at the edge of her half-empty cup and surveyed the room. She recognized plenty of faces, spotted friends, acquaintances and a few exes whose presence made her mind turn. Was she going to miss all of this? Going away to college was exciting, but it was a big move, and starting over in an unfamiliar place was scary. Lily couldn’t help but wonder if she had missed out on something by always keeping so busy.

The pessimistic thought threatened to put a damper on her night, and Lily wrinkled her nose at herself, as if to will it away entirely. She tipped the cup to her mouth again and drained the contents before deciding to get a refill. Maybe she should have taken Xavier up on his offer. Regardless, the dark-haired girl moved through the house, away from the stairs in the foyer and through the crowded living room. There were people dancing and milling about, taking up residence on the couches, coffee tables, windowsills and anything at the edge of the room that could have been turned into a seat. Some couples were making out, not caring about finding a room to get busy in.

Tipsy, Lily laughed to herself and continued on her journey toward the kitchen. She liked to party, but getting wasted was rare; she hadn’t thrown up since sophomore year’s homecoming dance and it was a fact that remained a source of pride. There was an anxiety in her that night, however, something in the pit of her stomach that needed to be drowned before it consumed her entirely. She navigated through the crowd, and almost got to the kitchen before she spotted a girl who looked to be trying to blend in with the wall. Curious, Lily let her gaze linger, sure that she’d seen that pretty face before—maybe she’d borrowed a pencil from her once upon a time?

“Third period geometry,” Lily said to the vaguely familiar girl, the index finger of her occupied hand stuck out in a point. “Miss Kirsch was always hung over. I don’t know why I came over here to tell you that,” she chuckled, her shoulders loose despite the potential awkwardness. It was like her feet had had a mind of their own, and some part of brain needed to share that memory before it was lost forever. “I’m surprised you’re here. I never see you at these things.”
 
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