#ralea

[raleigh-nc-official-totally-real]

The correct and only way to pronounce raleigh is Ra-le-a

Any other way is wrong

[redacciones]

Palabropedia (X): ralea

f. desp. Condición,linaje de las personas: allí se daban cita gentes de toda ralea.

desp. Clase o género,normalmente malo: ¿de qué ralea sería el traje que llevaba?

© Diccionario de la lengua española, 2005 Espasa-Calpe.

[masterturner]

rp is rough.

the most stressful part of playing ralea is that moment where via /me emotes I have to  explain that ralea's skin is pink. but loudly announcing "i'm zeltron" via emote always feels so  bleh. i wish i could just be pink. so i didnt have to type it out and feel like i'm drawing unnecessary attention to it. but as it is, it is a necessary evil. or next thing you know people are treating her like a human despite the fact that she's supposed to be a vibrant shade of magenta.

[masterturner]

I Tremble - Ralea Vendetta

[masterturner]

I made a space twitter for Ralea, after a minimal amount of prodding. Here's to hoping it will be moderately amusing!

[masterturner]

casually changing a character's race

well, Ralea used to be human. but after some reading, I am changing her species in my headcanon.

she's a zeltron now! wooo

http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Zeltron

[masterturner]

The Burden She Bears

"Hey honey. How much?"

Right in the fucking middle of a big swig of her drink, this guy comes up and starts to talk. Something about people trying to get her attention while she was eating or drinking just irked her. She lowered the bottle and gulped down the last swig she could before placing the bottle firmly to the tabletop, a clack ringing in the open expanse of the Imperial Fleet's cantina.

The red haired woman gave him a look, eyeing him skeptically. She realized she wasn't all that scary looking. She'd left her helmet back on the ship. All she was was a pretty-faced, tattoo'd up chick in mostly armor. Still, she had to at least try and be professional. Even if she was... drunk.

"Depends on what you need done." The Huntress said dully, warily. She wondered if this guy was as drunk as she was. He wondered if he was too drunk to see the blaster in its holster on her belt. 

The guy was some Imperial lush. He had the uniform and everything. That was to be expected. The Cantina was noisy and full of passing Imperial soldiers and such, all mostly off duty. Here and there some lightsaber-toting unholier-than-though would walk through, shooting death glares at everyone who didn't drop everything and kneel. Why he wanted to talk to her...? Well, there were two possibilities.

"Well, I can think of a LOT of things I need done..." He slurred, a slow, stupid smirk gracing his face. Ralea's peripherals caught the attention of another guy a few seats down, behind him. A dark haired, well-kept guy nursing what looked to be a glass of water. He was flexing his fingers and watching the drunk officer. 

"What do I look like, a stripper? I'm a goddamn bounty hunter, hot shot." The Huntress all but spat at him. A glare crossed her face. There was a tint of red in her cheeks, from all the profuse drinking no doubt.

"With an ass like that, in pants like that, I figured you were just dressin' up like one... I can do the roleplaying thing... I got a little friend that needs to be dealt with back in my-"

In that moment, just as she engaged her pack and wound up the hook, she saw that handsome fella in the back starting to rise up in his chair. Too bad for him, Ralea hated playing damsel in distress.

The officer flew back at least 15 feet at the force of her punch. The dark-haired onlooker paused, wide-eyed. His gaze slowly turned back towards her.

"...you just..."

"Beat your superiors' ass? Ah, the other guys don't care. I'm a goddamn war hero around here. He's one drunk guy, who gives a shit." She turned to sit back down, only to pause and look down at her bottom.

"Man, I need some better armor plating. This is gonna cause me a lot of headaches, just fuckin' know it." She sighed, sitting back down.

"...well shit. I was getting ready to come and ask the guy to leave you alone, play the cool and heroic card... but I can see you're not the uh... princess in the tower type."

"Nope." She replied plainly, boredly. She wondered briefly if the two Imps knew eachother. If this was an act. Maybe the drunk guy was just a buddy trying to help a fellow imp score.

"...uh, where are you from? What're you doing on an Imperial ship?"

"...I'm allowed. They take a chunk out of my pay for the goddamn privilege to show up on their bases and shit. Why, freelancers cramp your style?"

"No, no, I thought maybe you were a uh, Mandalorian...?"

"Fuck that man. I haven't seen a halfway intelligent Mando since I was eight years old."

"...oh..."

A beep from her pocket. Her holo unit. The onlooker awkwardly looked aside. He could tell she wasn't interested.

Her expression changed from moderately irritated boredom to cheer instantly.

"...Sure. See you on Nar Shaddaa hotshot. You owe me two backrubs." She grinned. She closed the call, pocketed her unit.

"...Uh, a job I take it?" He asked, in a final attempt to make some kind of conversation.

"Yep. Someone might be getting laid tonight too, but it's definitely not going to be you if you keep this act up. Have fun at the lamest Cantina on this side of the goddamn galaxy." She spoke, rising to her feet and walking off. She didn't even notice the other guys crowding around the officer she decked. She hoped she didn't kill him, suddenly. She started to walk much faster towards the hangar.