Hala Falh

==History==
Hala grew up as a scion of the Falh clan. In the past, they have been warriors, hunters, leaders. In the present, her clan are still warriors, after a fashion.
Shortly before Hala’s birth, a star fell on her clan’s ancestral home. Of course, it wasn’t a real star. It was a ship. A pirate vessel that had been shot out of orbit for sniffing too close to someone else’s patch of Tiritium. Lucky for them, most of it either broke up or burned up during the fall. So instead of being utterly obliterated, the Falh hunting grounds were instead only turned into swiss cheese and riddled with smoking craters of wreckage.
Even heavily pregnant and only newly having taken up the mantle of chief, Hala’s dam was never one to miss an opportunity. And she was the only one who saw the fallen star for what it was. A gods given, golden opportunity. A chance to claw her way up to even footing with the powerful, terrifying strangers who came down out of the sky with ever increasing regularity and numbers.
The Chieftess marched her people right over to the biggest chunk of wreckage and set up shop. Giving up their clan’s ageless traditions of being nomads to settle in the smoking corpse of a pirate war barge. Even when the pirates came looking for their lost loot, she didn’t budge. And fought them to a standstill using their own weapons that had survived the crash. After that, it seemed like a good deal for everyone involved to become business partners. The Chief let the pirates come by and harvest the Tiritium Gas, and the Falh clan got a fat cut of the profit. Paid mostly in more weapons.
And it was into that mess that Hala was born and raised. Surrounded by weapons, ruthless pirates, and wreckage. She cut her milk teeth chewing on scraps of broken machines and spent her childhood slapping together whatever junk she found or traded for into frankensteinian monsters that blew up in her face as often as they worked.
Hala’s skill didn’t go unnoticed. Her mother encouraged her to build, but only in that it would make her a better warchief when Hala’s time to lead came. The thought of leading anybody only made Hala’s stomach turn, among other things that she and her parent didn’t see eye to eye on. So when a handsome ‘trader’ appeared, and offered her a ride off planet in exchange for work, Hala leaped at the chance.
Of course the trader was just another pirate. Black market scum with half an eye to turn Hala in for whatever she’d fetch per pound. Sure the work got her off planet as promised, so long as she kept her head down. And not everyone was a villain. But the things Hala had to watch in that year, that she couldn’t stop, still give her terrors at night.
Still her mother’s child, Hala took the opportunity to slip her leash and make a quick exit. But no one leaves a pirate crew alive. Or so they would have people believe! And so Hala is still always watching over her shoulder. Looking for the knife or gun that will be aimed at her, when her past finally catches up.
==Looks==
She is short, even among a generally small peoples. She is also quite slender and flexible, with a long, dextrous tail.
Like most examples of her clan, Hala is colored with warm shades of brown, tan, and cream. With the occasional splash of golden blond! Hala is primarily tanned. The color lightens to a warm cream along her inner thighs, inner arms, belly, and chest. And then conversely darkens into a rich, cinnamony brown stripe down the middle of her back. She is covered all over in a smattering of brown speckles and spots! Not unlike freckles on a human. Though they mostly fade out on her cream parts. There is a thick smattering across her cheeks, blending in with the brown down the bridge of her nose. The base of her tail is entirely brown! And lightens to the tan about half-way down the length. And the poof of fluff at the end is the same bright gold color as her hair.
Hala prefers to keep her hair about shoulder length, or a bit passed. And keeps her hair tied back in pigtails, or the occasional bun, braid, etc. But only if she’s feeling fancy~
The dark stripe that follows her spine, also reaches up the back of her neck, and terminates at her nose! A lot like the blaze of a tabby cat. The pad of her nose might also be pink. And the tips of her ears are brown as well. Her inner ears have thicker fluff along the inside, to help keep out the sand from her ancestral home.
Her wide, round eyes appear black, like most Hekerin, during the day. But at night or in any sufficiently dark space, they glow an eerie, bright green.
She has a half-finished tattoo on her left bicep. Made via stick-poke, it is quite faded now. But if someone knows what they are looking at, they can see if is the mark of Hala’s clan! With hints at her once status as child of the warchief.
==Personality==
Sweet, bubbly, and just a lot reckless. Hala is surprisingly friendly! The galaxy is so big and full of interesting folk after all, how could she miss out on meeting them all by letting her past get in her way?
She can be a bit of a chatterbox. Perfectly happy to go on and on about whatever drifts through her head. Which usually has something to do with building something or taking something else apart.
Hala can move a bit fast for someone who isn’t expecting it. Bouncing from one idea to another topic like a little blond ball of anti-gravity. She can also have quite the sharp tongue. Not that she intends to be mean. Just that Hala loves to tease and can take things too far before she stops to think about the consequences.
Generally, not thinking about the consequences is how Hala gets into Most of the trouble she gets into. But so far she’s always been able to get herself out again! Mostly.
==Gear and Clothes==
Hala prefers to wear a tight, form-fitting bodysuit underneath either a loose set of coveralls or a comfortable hoodie. It gets cold in space, and Hala comes from an eternally day-time desert, after all. She only bothers with shoes when she Absolutely has to, but always has a pair of work gloves dangling from her tool belt. She will often wrap her tail up in bandage tape or cloth of the sort. To both keep it clean, warm, and safe from any flying sparks that her work might kick up.
Category:Past Crew