Kiaran Torr is a Devoronian combat medic with some issue back home. Is her mother REALLY hunting her? Will she ever locate her father's location? Who knows.
Long black lashes, framing rich amber eyes, are one of this girl's most memorable traits. Framing her features, a cascade of lustrous and scintillating hair of rich almost royal-purple and violet shade. With her high forehead the effect is rather like a wine-dark waterfall that frames the young woman's visage, strands trickling and spilling in carefully wrapped rivulets over the shoulders of her top and occasionally washing over one side entirely. Her bangs nearly hiding from view the twined black spots on her forehead. Her small nose is down turned, as is typical of her heritage. High cheekbones swoop steeply into a narrow chin as her face is completed by lips so full they almost seem out of place on her diminutive features. A small piercing gleaming against the deep rose of her lower lip.
Standing just past five feet, Kiaran has a slender build, curved by womanhood. Slim shoulders are ensconced within a modified bolero jacket, a battered red cross resting on the left sleeve. Her shoulders left bare and the coat, acting more like a vest to frame the leather top that encases her torso. A dull shaded zipper running up the middle of the front, closed all the way to the top. The sides and back of this garment taper downwards to nearly touch the top of her low-rider cargo pants in the back, framing what tone she has managed to get to her stomach.
The low-slung pair of raven's wing khaki cargo pants that have seen better days. The pockets of those cargos seemingly holding an assortment of items within, from the bits poking out of this or that one of them. The look is completed by an almost incongruously feminine touch of a pair of light chains wrapping the ankle of her left boot. The bright slender chains almost a glowing foil against the dusky charcoal of the calf-high combat boots. All in all, she has a pleasantly disheveled appearance that is suited to her relaxed but serious demeanor and balanced between any true extremes to give her a simple sense of defiant self-confidence.
Finishing out this outfit though is a long slender chain wrapping round and round her throat and ending in a small pendent of a broken rune. Her hands and arms cloaked in a pair of black fingerless arm warmers that end half-way up her upper arms.
Really what do you say when you mother is hunting you to drag you back kicking and screaming to a life of procuring and delivering goods not always seen on the open markets? Especially when you have turned towards a study of mending those injured in the trials of battle.
Well, I know I've said no more than a few times. even t the point of having to let my blaster speak for me as the other party was not listening.
Mom, this is getting tiring. You send them, I shoot, bandage, and secure them. Rinse and repeat.
Do I really have to locate father to get this to stop? I will.
- Medic - Kai is one of those crazy folks who rushes INTO the battlefield when there is a scream for help.
- Hunted - If you are to believe her, her mother is hunting for her to have her take over the family business.
- Rootless - She is still in a time of drifting.
See: Array Consortium