- 20 Mission Posts
- 2 Personal Logs
Sun Jul 26th, 2020 @ 10:25pm
Name Ayla Seton
Position First Mate
|Physical Description||Standing at 5'5", Ayla is slim and fit with a few distinguishable scars that mostly remain hidden underneath her clothing. Her back carries burn scars as well as a few jagged knife marks, which can also be found on her torso. She has a small tattoo on the inside of her right wrist, the word 'free' in Mandarin.
Her brown hair tumbles just past her shoulders in subtle waves, which she sometimes wears in a messy braid. She has striking blue eyes that sometimes carry a touch of sadness.
|Father||Stuart Seton - Presumed Dead|
|Mother||Lyndah Seton - Deceased|
|Other Family||Buddy Phelps- Stepfather|
Personality & Traits
|General Overview||One might look at Alya and see another pretty face. Or one might see the scared and lonely little girl that still hides underneath, the one she tries to keep hidden away. She's come along way over the past ten years, but some things just stick around no matter how much you shove them aside. Such is the case with young Ms. Seton.
Although she tends to be reserved and detached, Ayla can be very passionate and friendly. Once her guard is down and once someone had proven themselves as trustworthy. Given her past, she can we wary of men. But secretly she longs for a place to call home and a family.
|Strengths & Weaknesses||Strengths:
*Love of Learning
|Ambitions||She's not overly ambitious, choosing mostly to keep on the move. To experience and to see as much of the 'verse as she can.|
|Hobbies & Interests||Ayla likes to read, though at times she doesn't share this information. She likes to practice her shooting when she can, and spar.|
|Personal History||A young and carefree girl, Ayla grew up on Haven, with her mother and, for lack of a better term, her step father Buddy Phelps. She was never actually sure that the two had ever married, but he had been there with them for so long that Ayla never had an memories of just herself and her mother, let alone a different father figure. A month before her fifteenth birthday everything changed. Her mother died. Buddy, now being alone with no companionship decided that Ayla, being young, would be her mother’s replacement. She was younger, and pretty, and would last a lot longer than her mother had. After only a week of suffering his unwanted attentions and abuse, and with the help of Gisele Morgan, she started to plan her escape.
It took longer than anticipated, but having all the part line up for the young girl proved to be more difficult than they had imaged. Ayla endured what she could for another year before the moment finally presented itself. She fixed Buddy his usual drink, only this time she had added the small packet Gisele had given her earlier in the day, and waited. It wasn't to kill him, but to knock him out long enough for her to escape. Once the drug had taken affect, Ayla grabbed the meager belongings she had stashed and quickly made her way to the prearranged meeting spot where she was to meet the Captain of The Plymouth, John West. He gave Ayla a job aboard his ship as cook. It wasn't much and it was work, but it got her off the planet.
She spent the next few years on board The Plymouth, the crew, taking the young girl under their wings and even teaching her how to shoot. It wasn't the only thing they taught her. Ayla learned how to use a gun, and became quite proficient that she moved out of the kitchen and became a bigger part of the crew.
Recently, they had a bad job that ended with the death of the ship’s first mate and West’s wife. He decided that life in the black wasn’t what he wanted anymore, and sold The Plymouth. Ayla, along some of the remaining crew decided they would stay on with the new owner, a Mr. Nigel Krumnow. Or at least she did until she pulled a knife on the new boss for getting a little too friendly. Too..handsy. He had cornered her and made a pass that was too reminiscent of what she had run from. Needless to say, Mr. Krumnow didn’t take to kindly to her response and ordered Ayla off the ship.