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Sabah Sanura
knitting
Member
Name:Sabah Sanura
Age: 21
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Place of Origin: Thul’Ka
Occupation: Pawnbroker- in- training, Thul-Amat drop out.
Bio:
Her beginnings were humble, naturally. For a lot of grand talk about men rising out of the gutters in a city like Thul’Ka, born on trade and bleeding shills if you cut it open with a knife, most people in The Gripe never get that lucky. Never seem to make it more than stone’s throw away from the place their mother birthed them, the place their grandmother birthed her. Sabah’s people were like that. Just small potatoes. Nobodies. Her father worked the tanneries and came home reeking of goat piss like his father used to, her mother had gotten married and had babies just like her mother too. Both of them drank. That’s how it goes in The Gripe. Cogs in a wheel that goes on turning forever and ever.
Every so often though, something strange gets spat out of the Thul’Ka slums.
The arati have a word for it. For a baby born different by some freak of genetics or a grand goof in the gods’ great design. They call those kids imbali and all through history there was a place for them on an island where three rivers meet, protected by water and walls. Dura on the, other hand, don’t have much of a vocabulary for the different. Just aside glances coupled with a fearful kind of disdain. And Thul’Ka will never have a place for them.
Even as a child she wore it like the absence of a field in a crowd of arati. This strangeness. Reading books about the histories of desert tribes, studying mathematics and scientific theories during school hours in an overcrowded dura establishment- the kind where a single piece of chalk was shared out between four or five children and there was one book of literature for an entire class- if that. Hard to stand out in a class like that. Her teacher might never have known she was bright unless she hadn’t spent so much time getting in trouble for biting in the other children.
Gave her a red ass from all the hiding and a scrap of attention too. So you could argue it was worth it.
Her parents figured that, since she seemed pretty bright, she could make it as a clerk or a secretary some day. Get in the door of an office away from The Gripe and she could probably marry well. Her teachers said she could go to a university if she really put her mind to it. Sabah at that age didn’t rightly know what she wanted. outside of showing off and getting to read more books. And since everyone seemed to suggest that it was really hard and really impressive to get into Thul’Amat she figured she would try for that. Perhaps more to prove that she could than anything- she’d been brought up in The Gripe afterall, as far from the shadow of The White School as one could get, in a world of drab brown. No one there dreamed of Thul’Amat.
At the age of eighteen, after a lot of study, Sabah endeavored to take The Telling. She scored a six- annoying for her- but enough to get in and that was all that really counted to begin with. That was supposed to be the hard part over. The part that people could try at for years and years and never get close to passing The Telling. Galdori just the same as Dura. Job done and now she was in, had done what it took most Dura three or four generations to do in one. A shame though, for all her book learnings she couldn’t prepare herself for what life would be like for her inside Thul’Amat.
For an uppity Dura who thought she was just the smartest eighteen year old to ever live? No, the Amati disliked her and the students were worse. There were Dura at Thul’Amat she came to realise- a lot of them servants and the rest of them expected to act a certain way. They were the sons (only ever rarely the daughters) of merchants who were happy to be in this place and worked harder than anyone, who kept their heads down and spent every day grateful. It was only ever really arata who were meant to speak up and challenge and Sabah couldn’t abide by that. Her personality seemed to make things quite difficult.
It was a lonely sort of existence. Made her realise that she’d been predisposed to a certain kind of melancholy after all. She’d never known about it in The Gripe, but here it presented itself. She tried to involve herself in discussions and for the most part the young students were quite sweetly willing to give her a chance, with their lovely wide eyed liberal views and so forth. But Sabah made it hard. She was not at all the type of Dura. Conspicuous in her views and demeanour. Not sexless either which made things worse. From her school days she’d had found it to be an interesting way to pass the time and held herself as such. It seemed to disgust the galdori and humans alike. Unless of course they were the sort to try and be with a lower race woman for a bit of rough.
As if dura women didn’t count.
And she didn’t even have the learning or the study to keep her occupied. Though she had a great love for history, anthropology and the arts her Amati disliked her and she was given severe stripping downs from him over and over. She found it quite wearisome for her morale.
At the end of her first year, her father dropped stone dead and Sabah packed up and left the university. Happy to have the excuse that she needed to take care of her mother financially to walk away. She’d rather die than admit that Thul’Amat had beaten her. But it had.
Instead she took a job in her mother’s step-brother’s pawn shop. The closest thing she gets to history in the arts is old jewelry that people think is worth more than it actually is. Her boss, Izem, is not a pleasant man- drunk and scheming and money pinching but they at least have an understanding. Sabah does her work and pays no mind to some of the more dangerous dealings that go on in his shop. But as her brain, filled up with all that knowledge and untapped potential grows more and more tired- she does turn her thoughts to more nefarious enterprises and wonders how she might fare in them.
Personality:
Sabah is a coarsely spoken Gripe Child to begin with and feels no need to put on airs about it. Her speech is a guttery mix of Gripe dialect and complex words and phrases due to her wide vocabulary and utter disdain for those who are not as widely read as herself. That said, she does have a habit of mispronouncing words that she has only read from the pages of books and never heard used in polite conversation. Sabah is physically incapable of keeping her ideas to herself and can often be rather offensive.
Age: 21
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Place of Origin: Thul’Ka
Occupation: Pawnbroker- in- training, Thul-Amat drop out.
Bio:
Her beginnings were humble, naturally. For a lot of grand talk about men rising out of the gutters in a city like Thul’Ka, born on trade and bleeding shills if you cut it open with a knife, most people in The Gripe never get that lucky. Never seem to make it more than stone’s throw away from the place their mother birthed them, the place their grandmother birthed her. Sabah’s people were like that. Just small potatoes. Nobodies. Her father worked the tanneries and came home reeking of goat piss like his father used to, her mother had gotten married and had babies just like her mother too. Both of them drank. That’s how it goes in The Gripe. Cogs in a wheel that goes on turning forever and ever.
Every so often though, something strange gets spat out of the Thul’Ka slums.
The arati have a word for it. For a baby born different by some freak of genetics or a grand goof in the gods’ great design. They call those kids imbali and all through history there was a place for them on an island where three rivers meet, protected by water and walls. Dura on the, other hand, don’t have much of a vocabulary for the different. Just aside glances coupled with a fearful kind of disdain. And Thul’Ka will never have a place for them.
Even as a child she wore it like the absence of a field in a crowd of arati. This strangeness. Reading books about the histories of desert tribes, studying mathematics and scientific theories during school hours in an overcrowded dura establishment- the kind where a single piece of chalk was shared out between four or five children and there was one book of literature for an entire class- if that. Hard to stand out in a class like that. Her teacher might never have known she was bright unless she hadn’t spent so much time getting in trouble for biting in the other children.
Gave her a red ass from all the hiding and a scrap of attention too. So you could argue it was worth it.
Her parents figured that, since she seemed pretty bright, she could make it as a clerk or a secretary some day. Get in the door of an office away from The Gripe and she could probably marry well. Her teachers said she could go to a university if she really put her mind to it. Sabah at that age didn’t rightly know what she wanted. outside of showing off and getting to read more books. And since everyone seemed to suggest that it was really hard and really impressive to get into Thul’Amat she figured she would try for that. Perhaps more to prove that she could than anything- she’d been brought up in The Gripe afterall, as far from the shadow of The White School as one could get, in a world of drab brown. No one there dreamed of Thul’Amat.
At the age of eighteen, after a lot of study, Sabah endeavored to take The Telling. She scored a six- annoying for her- but enough to get in and that was all that really counted to begin with. That was supposed to be the hard part over. The part that people could try at for years and years and never get close to passing The Telling. Galdori just the same as Dura. Job done and now she was in, had done what it took most Dura three or four generations to do in one. A shame though, for all her book learnings she couldn’t prepare herself for what life would be like for her inside Thul’Amat.
For an uppity Dura who thought she was just the smartest eighteen year old to ever live? No, the Amati disliked her and the students were worse. There were Dura at Thul’Amat she came to realise- a lot of them servants and the rest of them expected to act a certain way. They were the sons (only ever rarely the daughters) of merchants who were happy to be in this place and worked harder than anyone, who kept their heads down and spent every day grateful. It was only ever really arata who were meant to speak up and challenge and Sabah couldn’t abide by that. Her personality seemed to make things quite difficult.
It was a lonely sort of existence. Made her realise that she’d been predisposed to a certain kind of melancholy after all. She’d never known about it in The Gripe, but here it presented itself. She tried to involve herself in discussions and for the most part the young students were quite sweetly willing to give her a chance, with their lovely wide eyed liberal views and so forth. But Sabah made it hard. She was not at all the type of Dura. Conspicuous in her views and demeanour. Not sexless either which made things worse. From her school days she’d had found it to be an interesting way to pass the time and held herself as such. It seemed to disgust the galdori and humans alike. Unless of course they were the sort to try and be with a lower race woman for a bit of rough.
As if dura women didn’t count.
And she didn’t even have the learning or the study to keep her occupied. Though she had a great love for history, anthropology and the arts her Amati disliked her and she was given severe stripping downs from him over and over. She found it quite wearisome for her morale.
At the end of her first year, her father dropped stone dead and Sabah packed up and left the university. Happy to have the excuse that she needed to take care of her mother financially to walk away. She’d rather die than admit that Thul’Amat had beaten her. But it had.
Instead she took a job in her mother’s step-brother’s pawn shop. The closest thing she gets to history in the arts is old jewelry that people think is worth more than it actually is. Her boss, Izem, is not a pleasant man- drunk and scheming and money pinching but they at least have an understanding. Sabah does her work and pays no mind to some of the more dangerous dealings that go on in his shop. But as her brain, filled up with all that knowledge and untapped potential grows more and more tired- she does turn her thoughts to more nefarious enterprises and wonders how she might fare in them.
Personality:
Sabah is a coarsely spoken Gripe Child to begin with and feels no need to put on airs about it. Her speech is a guttery mix of Gripe dialect and complex words and phrases due to her wide vocabulary and utter disdain for those who are not as widely read as herself. That said, she does have a habit of mispronouncing words that she has only read from the pages of books and never heard used in polite conversation. Sabah is physically incapable of keeping her ideas to herself and can often be rather offensive.
Still incredibly intelligent, she does enjoy the rare occasions now when she can show it off. But those are so few and far between stuck in a pawn-brokers that she tends easily towards melancholy, boredom and a bitter streak a mile long and a mile across. She can see her brain failing, can see so many things that she never got a chance to learn and now never will.
She is a proud creature, with a haughty expression that doesn’t quite befit her station. Quite dour in her mannerisms but sarcastic and that stands out for miles in Mugroba with it’s culture of honesty and lavish compliments. Uppity. She gets that a lot. The Uppity dura girl with the ideas above her station.
Goals:
For now, Sabah finds herself somewhat aimless and drifting. She knows she does not wish to be married and find herself swallowed up by the city like another cog in it’s machine but having failed at the only route she thought she could take, Sabah is unsure of how to rise. Somewhere deep down she would love to show Thul’Amat that she was better than it after all.
But these are far off things that will likely never be achieved.
Physical:
Tall for a woman,she keeps her dark hair cut short for practical reasons, having no patience for colourful hairties and intricate braiding and tends towards a more masculine style of clothing. Her breast are large which she finds embarrassing and her face is fairly attractive, with a short, broad nose a full but precise shaped mouth and heavy lidded cat shaped eyes of a tortoisehell colour- running from green to hazel to yellows and browns. She smokes apah often.
She is a proud creature, with a haughty expression that doesn’t quite befit her station. Quite dour in her mannerisms but sarcastic and that stands out for miles in Mugroba with it’s culture of honesty and lavish compliments. Uppity. She gets that a lot. The Uppity dura girl with the ideas above her station.
Goals:
For now, Sabah finds herself somewhat aimless and drifting. She knows she does not wish to be married and find herself swallowed up by the city like another cog in it’s machine but having failed at the only route she thought she could take, Sabah is unsure of how to rise. Somewhere deep down she would love to show Thul’Amat that she was better than it after all.
But these are far off things that will likely never be achieved.
Physical:
Tall for a woman,she keeps her dark hair cut short for practical reasons, having no patience for colourful hairties and intricate braiding and tends towards a more masculine style of clothing. Her breast are large which she finds embarrassing and her face is fairly attractive, with a short, broad nose a full but precise shaped mouth and heavy lidded cat shaped eyes of a tortoisehell colour- running from green to hazel to yellows and browns. She smokes apah often.
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