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This is simply a thread to keep track of my OCs. Please do not post in this thread, thank you thank you!!
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Character(s) Cole's Characters :)
- Thread starter colettefreyy
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Character(s) Cole's Characters :)
- Local time
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[Star Wars OC]
Wren Zephyr | Rebel X-Wing Pilot - Blue Squadron
Age: 26
Height: 5'6"
Appearance: Chestnut brown hair, cold green eyes, a splash of freckles along the bridge of her nose and cheekbones that contrast nicely with her warm skin. She has a naturally cold look in her eyes, calculating and distrusting. She has a husky laugh and her brows tend to naturally pinch together, restless. Wren mostly carries herself well, but if one were to look they could spot the slight hunch in her back. Whether it was from years living as a slave or being beaten one too many times, she would never say. A ragged white scar travels across the bridge of her nose at the diagonal. It matches nicely with the one that sits on the right side of her jaw and travels down across her throat, clean and with intention.
History:
[From Bracca to Nar Shaddaa to Yavin 4]
Wren never knew her parents, she was a Bracca orphan, bred from too much spotchka and a one time fling. There were many like her. It was a universal knowledge for the kids: start scrapping or off to the stocks. Wren's natural competitiveness was outshined by her sheer will to survive. And she was good. Most of the time, she made more than her quota, occasionally helping some of the other kids out. The thought of going to the stocks was a laughable notion to her, knowing she was too valuable as a scrapper. But when the buyers came, she was one of the many to be sold. And when she fought tooth and nail, even killing someone in the process, they seemed more willing to take her. Whether it was because of her ferocity or the fact she was fourteen and growing, she would never truly know.
For two years, she was a slave to the Hutts [Grakkus] on Nar Shaddaa. The time bore many nightmares and scars, both within and on her skin. Initially, she fought back, and rather violently at that. They had her drugged most of the time, sometimes even several doses throughout the day. Along with that, she was constantly chained to a guard. It took those two years to slowly build an immunity to the tranquilizer drug they had been using. Wren waited for the right time, killing her guard and making a rather boisterous attempt to flee. All she knew was that she was on Nar Shaddaa and she wanted to be anywhere but there. It was quite an attempt, taking numerous guards by surprise in the night. But unfortunately she was apprehended and left to rot in a cell for weeks with minimum food and water, if only to keep her breathing. They debated simply letting her starve to death, but the Hutts wanted a show. So, they threw her in the fighting pits, expecting her to quickly perish to one of their weaker regular fighters. But she prevailed. Again and again and again, she prevailed. And everyone loves an underdog story. But even though she became somewhat favored, she was still a slave, and still owned by the Hutts.
As she grew older, stronger, and more calculated, they would pick her to run specific trade routes, mostly smuggled goods. It was simple guard duty, but the prospect of being off the moon was too great to turn down. It was her first run and she was itching with excitement. A simple task really: get the goods to Bracca and then return. The others were weary of her initially, but the orders had come directly from the Hutts. They were apprehended the minute they dropped out of hyperspace. A fleet from the Rebel Alliance had received a tip from a mole on Nar Shaddaa. Whatever cargo was being brought to Bracca was valuable enough to intercept and steal. Those on the Hutts' cargo ship were either captured or killed, Wren being one of the former. They held her as a prisoner until she was persuaded to join the Rebellion, eventually becoming a pilot. Deep down, Wren was simply relieved to be free of Nar Shaddaa, and whether or not a part of her still felt trapped as a pilot, she had never felt more free than in the cockpit of an X-Wing.
Wren Zephyr | Rebel X-Wing Pilot - Blue Squadron
Age: 26
Height: 5'6"
Appearance: Chestnut brown hair, cold green eyes, a splash of freckles along the bridge of her nose and cheekbones that contrast nicely with her warm skin. She has a naturally cold look in her eyes, calculating and distrusting. She has a husky laugh and her brows tend to naturally pinch together, restless. Wren mostly carries herself well, but if one were to look they could spot the slight hunch in her back. Whether it was from years living as a slave or being beaten one too many times, she would never say. A ragged white scar travels across the bridge of her nose at the diagonal. It matches nicely with the one that sits on the right side of her jaw and travels down across her throat, clean and with intention.
History:
[From Bracca to Nar Shaddaa to Yavin 4]
Wren never knew her parents, she was a Bracca orphan, bred from too much spotchka and a one time fling. There were many like her. It was a universal knowledge for the kids: start scrapping or off to the stocks. Wren's natural competitiveness was outshined by her sheer will to survive. And she was good. Most of the time, she made more than her quota, occasionally helping some of the other kids out. The thought of going to the stocks was a laughable notion to her, knowing she was too valuable as a scrapper. But when the buyers came, she was one of the many to be sold. And when she fought tooth and nail, even killing someone in the process, they seemed more willing to take her. Whether it was because of her ferocity or the fact she was fourteen and growing, she would never truly know.
For two years, she was a slave to the Hutts [Grakkus] on Nar Shaddaa. The time bore many nightmares and scars, both within and on her skin. Initially, she fought back, and rather violently at that. They had her drugged most of the time, sometimes even several doses throughout the day. Along with that, she was constantly chained to a guard. It took those two years to slowly build an immunity to the tranquilizer drug they had been using. Wren waited for the right time, killing her guard and making a rather boisterous attempt to flee. All she knew was that she was on Nar Shaddaa and she wanted to be anywhere but there. It was quite an attempt, taking numerous guards by surprise in the night. But unfortunately she was apprehended and left to rot in a cell for weeks with minimum food and water, if only to keep her breathing. They debated simply letting her starve to death, but the Hutts wanted a show. So, they threw her in the fighting pits, expecting her to quickly perish to one of their weaker regular fighters. But she prevailed. Again and again and again, she prevailed. And everyone loves an underdog story. But even though she became somewhat favored, she was still a slave, and still owned by the Hutts.
As she grew older, stronger, and more calculated, they would pick her to run specific trade routes, mostly smuggled goods. It was simple guard duty, but the prospect of being off the moon was too great to turn down. It was her first run and she was itching with excitement. A simple task really: get the goods to Bracca and then return. The others were weary of her initially, but the orders had come directly from the Hutts. They were apprehended the minute they dropped out of hyperspace. A fleet from the Rebel Alliance had received a tip from a mole on Nar Shaddaa. Whatever cargo was being brought to Bracca was valuable enough to intercept and steal. Those on the Hutts' cargo ship were either captured or killed, Wren being one of the former. They held her as a prisoner until she was persuaded to join the Rebellion, eventually becoming a pilot. Deep down, Wren was simply relieved to be free of Nar Shaddaa, and whether or not a part of her still felt trapped as a pilot, she had never felt more free than in the cockpit of an X-Wing.