Thunder Falcon

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

Thus, the test of perseverance begins. With her knees down on the floor before the giant Coruscant castle, Shoma finally allows herself to let her guard down. She looked largely inflexible in her decision to follow her calling. Any remainders of faith she’s had were genuinely deposited upon whoever, or whatever, lived in that castle. And it… Seems to work? Whether it be by sensing the force or by sheer, refined intuition, the feeling that someone very special was watching her suddenly struck. But… It was rather ambiguous. Was it for the good? Or was it for the bad? Was it coming from the rather extravagant castle up ahead? She hoped these answers would come soon. Until then, Shoma was going to remain faithful and diligent into her investment. Underneath her blindfold, her eye muscles moved as if trying to close her non-existent eyes. A deep inhale was taken and held, exhaling after a few seconds of pause. Rinse, repeat. Rinse, repeat. Rinse, repeat.

And just like that, the female Miraluka’s mind seems to gradually lose it’s connection into the physical realm, slowly transcending into some form of deep meditation. It would certainly help her maintain her concentration and peace of mind throughout this whole ordeal, even in spite of all the pressure resting down on her shoulders. She could feel it. If she tried hard enough, she would be chosen! It’s what drove her forward through the days to come. The very day of her initiation seems to just fly by. With only whatever Gods and Deities that may exist out there knowing where the transpired time could have gone.

The second day, however, was not as merciful and uneventful. Breaking through the peace of her meditation and prayer trance, Shoma suddenly felt an enormous pressure reaching in through her psyche as the imponent, mysterious and somewhat fascinating gaze of the purple-eyed serpent befell upon her being for a second time. She was shaken into the core as it occurred, feeling the heart bestowed in between her lungs pound into her ribcage almost as if there was a wrecking ball inside, which would stop at nothing until it battered her sternum to pieces. There was no doubt in her mind that something out there was noticing her. And that something was… ‘Majestic and Glorious’. Those were the two adjectives Shoma could associate to the currently unidentified presence. But the latter part would change after another twenty-four hours transpired.

There she was. These purple irises… The unmistakable cold stare that looked like it could freeze hell over a thousand times… The boost they imposed on the poor cripple’s heart beats… Once again, her successful attempt at a meditation trance was intercepted. The concentration that managed to endure the torrential rain responsible for soaking her already pretty baggy hooded coat was broken pretty quickly by Shoma’s own desire to see what was this all about. The blind found her answer by raising her chin, something that she dared not do for two days, and her blindfolded and covered eye sockets went upwards to meet the frightening, yet enticing gaze. There she was, the silver-haired Arkanian whose tall figure instantly earned the Miraluka’s respect and admiration. The most insightful gaze could not tell whether or not Shoma’s resolve and willpower was fading away throughout her ordeal, but if it was, it was certainly completely revitalized as her force sight caught this glimpse of Miryia.

Shoma felt renewed as the soaked hood fell from the top of her head and into the back of her neck in rather ungraceful manner, weighed down by the water incorporated into the fabric of her coat. Her attentive, force gaze reached deep into the judgmental purple gaze of the woman she instantly learned to admire and respect. Miryia’s demand of proof was received and taken into heart, and the blind slowly lowered her chin back down, setting her eye sockets directed back into the ground and still appearing physically unshaken by the intensified rain, the winds that now complemented the artificial storm with it’s soft yet refreshing howl, and the thunder that vehemently smited existence below the sky and the passing clouds.

After a while, she could no longer concentrate on her meditation, or pretty much anything else. Shoma’s stomach growled into her ears, starting to demand the food it was deprived of for about four days now. Her entire composure was growing frail, judging by how she was clearly struggling to remain on her knees without tumbling to the side. Also, from having her knees down against the floor for so long, her caps were also hurting for a while now. She didn’t notice due to her ability to remove the focus from the pain. But now, as she couldn’t concentrate out of the pain, she was starting to truly feel it. Despite the adversities brought about by pain, starvation and dehydration, her determination remained untainted. She was still there, willing to see this through into the end like a true persevering warrior. Unable to sleep, stand, move properly or meditate, to Shoma it looked like the day would have taken an eternity to pass by. And it made her especially unnerved, wishing the day was over with.

Shoma had made it through the eternal day. The corner of her force vision could already pick up on the speckles of sunlight that managed to break through the stormy, heavy clouds of the palace. She made it through one day but… For how much longer could she go on? Shoma herself had no answer whatsoever to such a question. It wasn’t so much the pressure brought into her shoulders by the mistress of the palace, nor was it lack of perseverance. The starvation and dehydration were finally starting to get into the armless woman’s head. How could she possibly change her life for the better if she ended up slowly dropping dead right here? No wonder it came as a total relief into her mind and soul when the respect imposing, silver haired Miryia finally seems to have seen enough, and came walking down the stairs to grace Shoma with her presence. A grace that was more than happily accepted.

She heard Miryia’s voice as her chin went upward, moving her force sight upwards into these purple irises one more time. The words provided by Miryia’s speech were quick to be accepted into the aspiring Jedi’s heart. And they were going to stick around it for the years to come.

‘Would you like to see again?’

This presentation was the final push Shoma needed to seal the deal for the rest of her life. She was either far too weakened by the food and water deprivation or grew too shy before this Arkanian. Her lips opened a little and looked like they were ready to produce speech, but no words could come out. Instead, Shoma replied positively to the question with a nod, mirroring their very rare smile with one of her own. To stand up from the kneeling position was an entirely new ordeal. Her leg strength, despite being considered much greater than that of a normal Miraluka, was failing her as a consequence of the fasting. Yet again, she managed to draw upon sheer willpower and determination to ascend, and make her way up by striding along the staircase with slow, short steps. Now was not the time to show any sort of weakness. Not when she was a mere few steps away from obtaining the acknowledgement she craved so hard for in these five days.

A few final thoughts and a final glance over the left shoulder went towards the people who apparently gathered all around, inspired by Shoma herself. It was such a shame that quite a few could not endure to the end to deserve such a once in a lifetime opportunity. She wished she could thank them from the bottom of her heart and incentivize them to persevere, but still, nothing came from within her dried mouth and throat. She could only hope… But was it enough?

Maybe such a doubt would be clarified soon… But until then, it was best to concentrate on the here and now. Shoma gladly followed what she thought of as her new idol up ahead, deeper into the castle, fully willing to be her follower and seeking to find out just… What was it about this woman that imposes such a great level of respect in so little time.

@TheWatchDog

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

The scene takes us to the planet Queen of the Core itself: Coruscant. With it’s very lively streets overflowing with life from the most diverse species of intelligent life. With the occasional automatons hovering out and about over the heads of the pedestrians. Neon signs of countless different colors were a constant, prettying up the business establishments in a blatant yet highly aggressive attempt to draw customers into themselves. Noise pollution was very high with the sounds of machinery and social gibberish like small talk, laughs, grunts, cussing, people stressed out with the traffic…

The masses came and went, carrying on with their relatively peaceful lives in one place or another, retreating into buildings or just coming out of them through front doors virtually all the time. It was hard to pick a particular someone out of the roaming civilians, unless they had some sort of remarkable trait.

And on the middle of the crowd, inconspicuously striding along almost as if carrying herself along with the walking centipede of masses, wearing a large and baggy looking plain grey-ish colored hooded robe that covered nearly all of body all the way down into the bottom half of their shins, was the female Jedi trainee miraluka known as Shoma Jidith. The hood she wore poured it’s fabric down over her forehead and overshadowed what were supposed to be her eyes completely. Eye sockets covered both in the shadow of her hood and underneath plain white bandages she wore over them.

Even though she walked in inconspicuous fashion, Shoma still attracted some side glances from the people she passed by. She was largely dismissed by the people. Some of them were perverts from the opposite sex considering a tap to get a feel for that package, others thought she was some kind of homeless trash roaming about, other people just as dirty minded as the former, if not moreso, thought she was a prostitute on her way to provide services to some loser who must pay to have sexual intercourse. Most just flat out ignored.

But Shoma could care less about what people thought of her. Her inner self was overflowing with determination and confidence. After all, it was no mere mundane reason like a job or entertainment that brought her into this place. It was… Destiny calling. That is what Shoma would describe it as, plain and simple. The arrival of a certain person around these parts had affected her somehow. And the miraluka was drawn into that presence’s imponent force. The woman’s intuition brought her so far, and even if it was completely wrong for some reason, it was simply too late to back down now.

A few dozen more minutes elapsed as the girl walked around the streets. Until, she stopped. Raised her non-existent eyes towards the glorious looking place she had come all the way for, the magnificent force she could see hailed from this place. Her lips widened in a smile. Finally, she had arrived. Could not wait to see and live whatever awaited her there.

But perhaps defying her expectations, all she could see was… A bunch of religious looking people? And they all were singing praises in the direction of the castle? Shoma was utterly surprised by this: It had caught her completely off guard. Her force sight surveyed over the small mass venerating whatever was in there. Her mind completely drew a blank about what to do. Should she sing praises too? Pray? But how? What should she recite? She had no answers to any of these questions.

She was at a loss for actions and words before this rather peculiar scene, but had come too far to give up now. Perhaps trying to show respect towards whoever or whatever lived there, Shoma slowly brought herself down into her knees, leaving her head hanging down, facing the floor. Even though she had yet to learn what prayers to offer.

‘I can feel it! I must be on the correct path!’

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

Shoma Jidith

Shoma Jidith - Appearance

She looks like this, except she has no arms and is always wearing a plain white blindfold over her eyes.

Shoma Jidith - Information

Name: Shoma Jidith.
Age: 21.
Race: Miraluka.
Bio: The universe had cursed the female Miraluka known as Shoma Jidith since birth. It was for great surprise of her parents and the medic on standby responsible for the birth that the baby was born without arms, with the cause for it still largely unknown. And the torment that would move on to pursue her entire existance started: She was starting to get somewhat neglected by her parents in favor of her siblings who actually had arms. From there, her options about what to do with her life were pretty narrow. In a desperate attempt to find a purpose in life, she signed up at the age of 7 for circus performance training. There was potential in there for Shoma, after all, a person with a lack of superior members performing was quite an attraction, even if most of spectators only went in for a laugh.

She was quickly labeled as a 'circus freak' by her peers and fans, a title she had zero pride in holding. The feeling she was destined for something much greater than spending precious years of her youth submitting herself to be judged and laughed at by others. So she had to scheme herself into progression. With time, as she grew older, she managed to gain some influence over the circus' decisions. Until one fateful day, she was set to perform for the sake of entertaining some Imperial Troops for a few days. However, while she and her circus fellows were stationed there, the barracks of the Imperials were raided by the Alliance.

During the raid, Shoma was caught after surrendering peacefully. She was eventually taken into questioning, where she told her interrogators about her circus job, lack of real ties with the Imperials and some details of her daily life. During the interrogation, a well-known Jedi eventually noticed she was force sensitive and had a lot of potential to become a powerful Jedi. It was there that they decided to send Shoma to the Jedi Temple in Coruscant for her to start her training in the ways of the force. Even if her training ended up starting very late when compared to the others.

Faction: Imperial Remnant. Shoma sensed something that drew her into a mysterious castle in Coruscant. Was it fate or destiny blatantly showing her the way? A certain presence she was determined to pursue? A flawed gut feeling? She cannot tell for sure. But she was certainly drawn into it, and it was a matter of time before it took the best of her.

Physical Description: Shoma is a young, humanoid-looking woman in her early twenties. She stands at 170 centimeters (5'5) tall and weighing roughly 79 kilograms (174 lb). Her skin tone is pale, with only barely noticeable wrinkles and imperfections, indicating the woman has most definitely spent some time taking care of her skin. Shoma's body format heavily leans into an athletic body build mixed with extremely well built legs and abs, in a paradox inducing mix: One can wonder how can a person's body look so rough and sculptural, yet with a special touch that makes it seem like it was made of a fine porcelain. She has a long, smooth, lite gray colored hair that ends roughly halfway into the back of her thighs.

There are two instantly noticeable, and perhaps most remarkable traits Shoma possesses: The first of them is her total blindness and failure to share the same visual outputs of the world as most other races do. It is the one trait that easily labels her as a specimen of the Miraluka race. Always wearing some sort of completely plain eyewear over where her eyes are supposed to be, most often plain-white bandages, Shoma relies entirely on her force sense abilities to perceive the world, environiment and people around her.

The second instantly noticeable trait, and the most proeminent one that could easily pick her out of a crowd, is her complete lack of superior members. Shoma was born with no hands, no forearms, no biceps and triceps. She has a pair of short stumps for shoulders instead, an adaptation of her bone structure to be able to support the collar and clavicule bones. The extremely rare circumstances that caused her to be born without arms are still unknown.

Personality: Calm, courageous, curious, open-minded, reserved with her emotions, and most notably very determined to pursue her personal goals. Those traits define what Shoma is made of in her interior. Throughout the entire life, Shoma was looked down at by all of her peers due to her severe birth defect, and everywhere she went, people tried to stick it into her head that she would never really amount to anything. A mixture of uneasiness and frustration built it'self inside the girl's mind, only becoming stronger and more compelling each time she took in some of her environiment's negativity. But she could only take so much.

Still waters run deep, or so they say. Shoma is a very good definition of such saying. As beneath her calm and mildly stoic behavior, very few can tell just how hot the burning flame of her passion, strong will, perseverance and motivation burns. Infused with an erratic and active mind and soul, Shoma is constantly out there, seeking and studying new ways of improving herself physically, mentally and spiritually. This makes her open-minded to many ideologies and arguments different from her own. This woman thinks she has something to prove to all of those around her, and that thought is what motivates almost every single step she takes.

Equipment: At almost all times, Shoma carries with herself a total of four knives and a small shock baton concealed within her robes. Nothing else really noteworthy in the equipment department for now.

Abilities:

Force sense starter pack: Force sight, force smell, force listening.

Telekinesis: Basic force skill, meant to move objects with a mental command and the power of the Force alone. It plays a crucial role in Shoma's battle strategy and daily activities that would require hands to perform.