5ft 3in (1.60 mts) Weight:
Obirah is rather small for a Rattataki, her curves often deceive as they tend to make her appear bigger than she actually is. She is pretty fit, although her body is not overly toned. She gives off the impression of someone you can lift using just one arm, and you would be quite correct.
She has no hair as it is usual for her race, and strangely enough she has no markings or tattoos whatsoever. She compliments the lack of ritualistic tattoos by smearing black paint over her face, often changing its design, so it is rather common to see her sporting different types of makeup.
Her eyes are of a very pale green, sometimes seeming white.
She currently wears dark clothes, rather loose and more tightly fitting at the botom, a pair of black knee-high leather boots. The clothing is rather simple. sta.sh/04bw9v3h3ld
She also wears a bunch of piercings and what seems to be a metal garment on her forehead, which sticks to her skin. Equipment:
Stolen Blaster (Only used as a last resort weapon)
Lightsaber crystal, (violet with black core).
Long-handle lightsaber , with a red black core blade. Force Powers:
Force Speed (Skilled)
Force BodyLightsaber Forms:
Form I (Shii-Cho): Basic
Form IV (Ataru): Average.
Form VI (Niman): Skilled. I treat skill levels as : Untrained, Basic, Average, Experienced, Skilled, Highly Proficient, Master. Just for reference, be sure to tell me what your OC's proficiency is in this scale
Obirah’s fighting style is a mixture of Niman and Ataru. She started learning Form I as a kid, but since her reflexes and speed were her strong points, her mentor moved her to Form IV.
She trained in this style extensively throughout her youth, which gave her a good foundation to learn what would be her main style.
She learned most of her Niman during the time in the mine, and upon wielding her mentor's lightsaber she also gained his knowledge in the form.
As a Sokan advocate, Obirah uses the terrain to her advantage, adding to the adaptability of Form VI the offensive and dueling capabilities of Form IV to create a style which focuses on speed, dexterity and the force. Lightsaber: Lightsaber!
The lightsaber she currently wields is not hers, but it belongs to an old unnamed Sith that was buried in the mine where her mentor abandoned her.
It is a hafted lightsaber, with the added twist that the hilt of the saber itself can be detached and wielded like a regular one handed lightsaber. The haft is made of lightsaber resistant materials, and the socket where the lightsaber is mounted is wrapped in cortosis weave to avoid having the hilt cut.
The haft presents a dark red finish with golden tones.
The saber itself is rather slick and of a very fine design, having some engravings and a mostly dark red coloration. It is long and smooth, having a spiraled grip that fits comfortably in the hand.
She has made two more lightsabers, one violet and other with a grey, ashlike blade.
Obirah Al’Jakka was born to a Rattataki chieftain in the hostile planet Rattatak.
Middle daughter to a numerous family, as a kid, Obirah was really scrawny and weak, usually pushed around by her older siblings and even those younger than her.
She grew up as a disappointment to her father, frowned upon and cast aside as Rattataki traditions usually involved getting rid of the weak.
The only thing that kept her alive was that she was the daughter of the chieftain, and he wasn’t keen on letting one of his kids die.
But the girl did not improve, and it was clear she wasn’t going to become a worthy warrior.
She wasn’t particularly intelligent either, and her rather unremarkable nature was what finally pushed her father to one day point at the desert in a random direction and tell her to walk towards the horizon, and never come back.
“Useless” was the last thing her father said as she started walking, leaving the village behind.
Left alone to die, the girl spent days moving forward like a robot, not resigning to fall and prove her family that they had been right all along. Maybe if they saw her determination, they would let her back.
But none followed her, and so she kept walking aimlessly without any supplies for days, and then for weeks.
The reality was that she had something none of her siblings had, something that not even her father, the mighty chieftain could see. She had the force, a connection so strong with it, that even as her body became nothing but skin and bones, the kid kept walking, always forward, braving winds, storms and the acidic rain of her planet.
But even her pure connection with the force could not keep her alive for much longer, and it was merely a matter of chance, perhaps destiny, which made her bump into him.
He was a tall sith, who wore a long robe that covered his features. A deep voice that so much reminded her to her father.
He found her lying on the sand, half covered and ready to die, and he would have left her there if it wasn’t because he was the only one who could see her true self. What lay under the unnaturally skinny child.
He became her mentor, and took her under his wing.
Although he also would be disappointed in the end.
He spent years trying to teach her the ways of the force. The child was strong, but something kept her from reaching her true potential.
The Dark Side required emotion, and the kid had none, she tried yes, but she was weak, spineless, always hiding what she truly felt and never allowing herself to feel passion.
Even when he beat her, broke her bones and mend them back together, she would still lower her head and be submissive, never speaking a word never letting her passion loose.
He was never one for patience, and when the lessons finally became unbearable, he decided that he could find a more suitable apprentice who was far easier to shape instead of a promising young girl who kept holding herself back.
And so, as he delivered his ultimatum to her in the dark asteroid of Shuma, a prison-mine which he had visited in order to acquire rare minerals, the girl did something he never expected.
She began to sob, a desperate, despair filled cry that drowned her voice and wet her face in tears.
But it was too late now, and the Sith Lord raised his hands to push the girl, cast her into certain death. “Useless” Was the last thing he whispered to her, as her body fell off the ledge and into the abyss below.
As her eyes opened, she was greeted by the vision of many faces, all of them glowing with an eerie red light.
There were not two faces of the same race, not even similar, and the group that took her to the infirmary was as heterogenous as the backgrounds of each one of them.
One thing was the same for everyone though, all of them were here to work the rest of their lives, and every individual carried itself with the semblance of someone whose fate was already told.
Her life did not improve, as though her wounds were closed and her body restored to full function, Obirah became a sort of pet for everyone in the prison, and was treated like an animal.
It was during the lonely, unnaturally hot nights that she, ironically, suffered the most.
She would wake up covered in cold sweat, screaming, as visions of a red man obscured her dreams, turning them into maddening nightmares.
He would whisper to her, and she would turn away, and not listen.
This went on for months, the dreams becoming more and more vivid until one night she could see the man clearly. He spoke to her in a voice that sounded outworldly, and offered many things.
Among them, the one that caught her attention was the promise of power. Wasn’t that what she always wanted? Be powerful? Show everyone her worth? Crush those that once looked down on her?.
All he asked was for her to stretch her hand, and so she did, until their fingers touched, and then… nothing.
The man did not show himself again, and the girl lost hope once more. Yet another mirage, another hollow promise fueled by her delirium, probably thanks to her infected wounds and feverish nights.
She took this time to explore the mine in all it’s ghastly glory. It was a place the rays of the sun avoided to visit, lest they be forever lost in the hopeless void, and happiness seemed to have faded away a long, long time ago.
All that surrounded her was suffering, and it was only suffering that this people knew. They did not hear of love or compassion, instead, they chose to use misery as their currency.
Aside from the electric lights, the entire mine was bathed in an eerie red glow that came from an unknown source.
Obirah took on herself to find out, as anything was better than spending time with the hostile company the workers had to offer.
She did not travel far at first, only getting a few meters away from the shanty town that were the miner’s homes, but this alone was enough for her to feel a compelling force.
It was like a compass, in some directions it would pull her with strength, and in some others, it would be almost intangible.
She repeated these short journeys several times, in the span of several days, each time getting further and further away from the place she vaguely called home.
One night she decided to go all in, and much like in the desert, she packed her things and took off towards roads untravelled.
She traveled for what was probably an entire afternoon, until the watch on her wrist told her it was morning outside. But all she had was the barren stone walls of the asteroid, the persistent red glow, and a feeling inside her chest that pulled her towards an unknown fate.
She finally reached a chamber, as it was indeed a chamber, carved into the stone by sentient hands. The broken arch that used to be a doorway allowed her to see into the chamber, and inside, lay the source of the eerie red glow.
She knew this because her heart felt as if it was about to be ripped from her chest, pulled with force by an indescribable, horrific magnetic force. But this did not stop her from coming near, slowly at first, until her curiosity made her give in and break into a sprint.
In front of her rose a giant red rock, made of some thick, dense crystal. Upon a closer inspection, she could see something inside the rock, barely resembling a humanoid figure.
Atop of it, a staff of old protruded from the rock, and the desire to take it flooded her insides instantly.
She climbed the rock, and in doing so, pressed herself against it, next to the creature trapped inside.
She could not help but look into the hollow basins that were the corpse’s eyes, for it was indeed a corpse, trapped in the rock for thousands of years.
It was then when she heard a voice, and turned around to see the man of her dreams speak to her.
“You found me… perhaps, not all is lost with you. Come my child… that staff is not for you, not until you have proven yourself” The man concluded, staring at her with a wide grin, offering his hand once more.
Obriah thought herself mad, and instead of turning around to heed the man’s call, she climbed the steps to grab the staff.
Disappointingly so, she found it impossible to pry from the rock, and reluctantly joined the man’s side.
This time, when she returned, the man followed her, never leaving her company again.
He took upon himself to teach her everything he knew.
The first thing he advised her was to procure herself a weapon, a long shaft with a makeshift blade in the end, in order to fend off those that called her crazy.
They would tell her she spoke to the air, and mumbled phrases to ghosts that were not there, yet when she insisted that they should stop with their nonsense, they would get angry at her for talking back.
Their interruptions did not last long, and after several bloodsheds, the rest of the workers decided it was better to leave the crazed girl to her imaginary friends.
She trained day and night, following the instructions of her mentor. He showed her the way by teaching her Form VI, a style he had mastered during his life, in order to help her focus on the Force. She was really good at Telekinesis techniques, so he decided to, unlike her previous masters, focus on her weaknesses by way of her strengths.
He would test her, tell her once a week to go and try to pry the staff from the stone to no avail, resulting only in frustration. She was not making progress in the force either, as her submissive personality flourished again.
But he did not give up like the rest of her mentors. He devised a plan, a plan that would unleash her full passion.
Pain was not going to work, the girl had become so used to it, that it had lost any effect whatsoever. But treason, betrayal… that always seemed to strike a nerve.
Unbeknownst to her, he worked his influence on her so she would do deeds against the inhabitants of the mine, until a fed up group decided to take revenge.
They were not gentle, least merciful, and when the time to defend herself came, she found her muscles bound by an invisible force. A force that came from her own mentor, her only friend. She could only watch as they did horrible things to her, and when they were over, not even the comforting presence of her mentor remained. She was alone again, like always.
But this time she did not take her usual submissive, self blaming attitude. Instead, she felt rage, a rage fueled by his betrayal, and the need to know why. Why had he betrayed her?
Thrown her to the wolves? Had she not do enough? Had she not followed every order, every command to perfection? She did not deserve any of this.
The girl did not even wait for her wounds to close, and took off limping, gritting her teeth until her jaw hurt, the path that led to the chamber taking her twice as long to walk.
But she got there, and he was waiting for her. Atop of the red rock. Looking down at her.
She only screamed, shooting a powerful blast that bounced off the rock and blew a side of the chamber.
The man did not even flinch, he just opened his arms and whispered, “Take the staff”...
She screamed again at him, covering him in insults. What kind of mockery was this?
She was no longer her student, and he was no longer her mentor.
“Useless” He replied to her, narrowing his eyes and turning around.
That was it, the moment when all her rage broke out of her chest like a tidal wave, an unquenchable fire that engulfed everything, a wild storm that made her jump the entire distance to where he was, as her hands maddeningly gripped the side of the staff, determined to conclude this humiliation once and for all.
Her muscles felt like tearing, but in a last rageful push, the staff broke loose, and the last thing she saw before her sight became red and her mind filled with indescribable visions was the face of her mentor, filled with pride, as he grinned wolfishly at her.
What came out of that chamber was no longer the submissive, quiet girl that used to be the pet of everyone in the mine. It was a wild fury that laughed and screamed in joy as she slaughtered everyone in her path, searing them with lighting, cutting through the strong, the weak and the defenseless alike with a hafted weapon finished in a red blade made of light.
She broke through the mine guards, and lay waste to the entire station, until she got to the main base, where she hijacked a ship and took to the stars, leaving behind a trail of death, and an empty chamber where the eerie red glow glowed no more. Strengths:Emotions:
Quite obvious for a dark side user, but Obirah has a twist, her emotions are unbridled, even more so than a normal Sith. Her lack of limits when it comes to feelings allows her to get an extra kick from her dark side powers, as well as empower the rest of her abilities.Telekinesis:
For a long time Obirah was not a strong force user, and this made her focus on the basic stuff. She perfected the basic techniques of telekinesis, making her force pushes extremely powerful. She often uses these powers to overpower her enemies, or when fighting unarmed. Force Speed:
Being physically weak, she had to learn how to get around this by being quicker than her opponents and coupled with her agile combat style she is often deceivingly skilled for an apprentice. Weakness: Emotions:
A double edged sword, Obirah’s emotions are probably her biggest strength and her biggest weakness. She is easy to provoke, and subsequently lure towards traps. She is easy to manipulate in the battlefield. Strength:
Physical strength was never her forte, it is extremely easy to overpower her with raw strength, so use grapples and heavy sundering hits. Close Spaces:
Not so much for her combat style, but after living in the mines for five years, Obirah is really wary of underground places. She is borderline claustrophobic, meaning that her least favourite playing field is anything that is under the ground and resembles a mine. Caves, tunnels, and even deep buildings make her restless, which with her extreme emotions means she will not be focused in the fight. NOT-A team player:
Well this is unfair, as Obirah is actually not that bad to work with if you can put up with her odd personality and mood swings, so aside from being an annoyance, you are probably going to be ok.
It is when the minions and anyone Obirah considers inferior is around when things start to simply not work. She is rather abusive and stubborn, refusing to listen even to the most logical plans. She also treats whatever is under her command as trash, and it often results in deaths. Personality:
Obirah has been called many things, and has gone from submissive, quiet and shy to borderline psychopathic and extroverted.
She is an open book, and that is because she will often scream her opinions to your face at the top of her lungs.
She has almost no decor or manners, even though ironically she loves the finer things in life, and states her thoughts without thinking first.
She speaks, then proceeds to deal with the consequences later.
She has been called moody, bipolar and ever psycho for her overly expressive personality, although this also makes her a rather fun person to have around even if it is to have a drink or party around.
Love and ties are strange for Obirah, living in misery, neglect and abuse for most of her life have left her cynical and slow to trust. She is wary of even the smallest gifts, and will turn down anything believing that there is something someone is trying to gain from her. She loves quick and unattached, preferring one night stands instead of relationships.
She treats everyone with sarcasm and a slightly condescending attitude, and whether this is annoying or friendly banter it’s up to the person she is speaking with.
This also translates into an over the top politeness and diligence towards her higher ups, which borderlines the disrespectful and mocking to anyone that is smart enough to see past her overly abundant compliments.
Finally, whatever emotion she feels, she feels it to the extreme. It’s kind of funny to see her cry or laugh hysterically from the most unimpressive things, and this often startles and weirds out anyone that spends enough time in her company. Ships:
Lacks the charisma and basic social skills to have followers. She tried getting a droid once and it wiped out it’s own memory thus being the only droid who committed suicide willingly.