CHAMPION, christa savelli

[attr="class","appbody"]

You smile like you’ve won the lottery or just got a lot of pleasure out of doing something sinister. But you’re smiling precisely because, because you’re thousands of feet in the air and a man (who is wearing a suit so perfect it’s a metaphor and glasses so comical it’s a stereotype) is standing behind you. Said man is all you need to prove to the room full of perspiring, idealistic men before you that the will is real and they’ll be betraying their mother’s mother or whatever pact of brotherhood they had with your husband, your ex, dearly departed, sadly sleeping in his water grave husband if they choose to leave at this moment.

(Not that you’ll let them, anyway.) You’ll bend them enough to see things your way, anyway.

Lounging on said husband’s desk, you stare at the conditions of your nails, blowing at them for effect, posing as a clueless farmer’s daughter because they’ve always been too blind to know what your desires were, are, and will be.

Your eyes now finally meet theirs. Most of your crew grumble, and some don’t even seem to care.

“Get to work then, we haven’t all day.” The cigarette you’ve been smoking lands on the former proprietor’s ashtray. Some of the ash miss, scorching marks onto the beautifully written documents. You don’t give it a second look. Instead, you push yourself out of your chair and leave, not before the rest of the crew squeeze themselves out first.



Christa has received physical training since her youth and doesn't let her body forget it. Physical limitations aside, she can hold her own very well in a fight. She’s also known to have pretty good gunmanship and sword fighting is an old hobby. She has high alcohol tolerance for a woman, if that's a skill? 

She's also very good at pushing grown men off sky ships, if that counts for anything.

[attr="class","appname"]CHRISTA SAVELLI

[attr="class","appicon"]

[attr="class","appstats"]
AGE: 27
SEX: F
RACE: HUMAN
HOMELAND: SHARA
CONTRACT: Y