Arelle Bronwyn
Apr 20th, 2004, 07:19:45 PM
Six years ago
__________
Arelle had been sitting in the library of her family's estate, reading up on the study of what people called 'The Force'. She had only just found out about the unique powers that coursed through her veins, and while her family saw the newly developed abilities as a curse, she was determined to become better then all those before her, better then those she read about in the ancient original copies her father had picked up, never expecting them to become of any use. Arrogance was a common trait in those whom were, referred to as 'Force-adept', but her attitude was simply far too self-absorbed to be anything of use to the people around her.
No. Arelle saw this recently gained knowledge as a personal tool. She had no need to offer any assistance to the weak and helpless. What had they ever done for her? It seemed rather silly when most of these 'Jedi' were hated by those they helped anyway. Though one might think she was more so in relation to the Sith or Dark Jedi, one was terribly wrong. In truth, she loved the attention, and planned on using such things to gain more power. That was... until the attention became corrupt and forced her to leave her planet.
She wish she could hate them, but deep down, she knew she really couldn't blame them for fearing her. Sometimes, she was afraid of herself. She had been around selfish people all her life, thus she didn't know exactly how to benefit from this 'Power'. So, she set off into the galaxy, still retaining her father's temper and much of the family consciousness of self-preserved attention.
____
Present
Her situation hadn't improved. If anything, people now belittle her, unaware of what ticking time-bomb they tempted, she did her best to ignore them. But on the streets of Coruscant, it was hard to avoid people entirely.
Garbed in the finest attire money could buy. That's how it always was with her. The white shirt she wore, tight but comfortable, hosted silver clasps that buttoned down the right side of her chest and a high collar that fit snugly to her graceful neck. The pants, matching the shirt in style, were tucked into a pair of snowy, knee-length boots and a short cape guarded her shoulders and mid-back from a slight chill that was not uncommon for the city planet.
Moving down the streets, grace in-tact, Arelle frowned and eyed the commoners that shifted around her with a warning glare. She wasn't too keen on letting such riff-raff touch her, let alone her priceless attire, but there was always that one moron. A hand, though meant to be unnoticeable, flicked across her lower back and removed a pouch from her utility belt. The perfect bait.
Swinging around with such force that she sent the thief to the ground, Arelle purred and slammed her heel down into the man's knee, awarded with a pain-filled howl and a gradifying crack.
"Naughty naughty...."
__________
Arelle had been sitting in the library of her family's estate, reading up on the study of what people called 'The Force'. She had only just found out about the unique powers that coursed through her veins, and while her family saw the newly developed abilities as a curse, she was determined to become better then all those before her, better then those she read about in the ancient original copies her father had picked up, never expecting them to become of any use. Arrogance was a common trait in those whom were, referred to as 'Force-adept', but her attitude was simply far too self-absorbed to be anything of use to the people around her.
No. Arelle saw this recently gained knowledge as a personal tool. She had no need to offer any assistance to the weak and helpless. What had they ever done for her? It seemed rather silly when most of these 'Jedi' were hated by those they helped anyway. Though one might think she was more so in relation to the Sith or Dark Jedi, one was terribly wrong. In truth, she loved the attention, and planned on using such things to gain more power. That was... until the attention became corrupt and forced her to leave her planet.
She wish she could hate them, but deep down, she knew she really couldn't blame them for fearing her. Sometimes, she was afraid of herself. She had been around selfish people all her life, thus she didn't know exactly how to benefit from this 'Power'. So, she set off into the galaxy, still retaining her father's temper and much of the family consciousness of self-preserved attention.
____
Present
Her situation hadn't improved. If anything, people now belittle her, unaware of what ticking time-bomb they tempted, she did her best to ignore them. But on the streets of Coruscant, it was hard to avoid people entirely.
Garbed in the finest attire money could buy. That's how it always was with her. The white shirt she wore, tight but comfortable, hosted silver clasps that buttoned down the right side of her chest and a high collar that fit snugly to her graceful neck. The pants, matching the shirt in style, were tucked into a pair of snowy, knee-length boots and a short cape guarded her shoulders and mid-back from a slight chill that was not uncommon for the city planet.
Moving down the streets, grace in-tact, Arelle frowned and eyed the commoners that shifted around her with a warning glare. She wasn't too keen on letting such riff-raff touch her, let alone her priceless attire, but there was always that one moron. A hand, though meant to be unnoticeable, flicked across her lower back and removed a pouch from her utility belt. The perfect bait.
Swinging around with such force that she sent the thief to the ground, Arelle purred and slammed her heel down into the man's knee, awarded with a pain-filled howl and a gradifying crack.
"Naughty naughty...."