Minmatar
Sebiestor
3.09
Viola Alexandria
Last Active:
about 17 hours ago
Birthday:
Oct 5, 2020 (4 years old)
Next Birthday:
Oct 5, 2025 (35 days remaining)
Combat Metrics
Kills
2,245
Losses
1,649
Efficiency
57.7%
Danger Ratio
57.7%
ISK Metrics
ISK Killed
319.63B ISK
ISK Lost
85.37B ISK
ISK Efficiency
78.9%
ISK Balance
234.26B ISK
Solo Activity
Solo Kills
153
Solo Losses
681
Solo Kill Ratio
6.8%
Solo Efficiency
18.3%
Other Metrics
NPC Losses
10
NPC Loss Ratio
0.6
Avg. Kills/Day
1.3
Activity
Very High
Character Biography
( Death before detransition. TRANS PRIDE )
Born a spacer, always a spacer. She doesn't like the feeling of gravity on her feet, the heaviness of her body on the round worlds are more alien to her than the wormholes hiding in the darkness of vast space surrounding her and all men.
Born of uncertain parents, untattooed and clanless. Raised by Sebiestor spacers in a rusted frigate floating aimlessly between worlds she learned the value of tools and ingenuity at a very young age. Ships became a part of her, extensions of her. The subtle vibrations and hums of the metal and electronics around her a symphony in her mind that speak to her in tongues as clear to her as common english.
A capsuleer she became. A procedure that was forced upon her. Is she real? Does her consciousness end and a brand new soul is created as a copy? These questions burn in her, leaving her empty, making her feel like a cheap copy of a real soul. To fill the emptiness of her copied soul she endevours to do what kindness she can to those around her. The cruelty and degeneracy of those around her bothering her on a fundamental level.
Banished. A life in her past she can no longer be a part of. She flees, or is banished? The end result the same. Here she is where you find her, severed permanently from her past and looking with dead eyes at a universe with no future
Born a spacer, always a spacer. She doesn't like the feeling of gravity on her feet, the heaviness of her body on the round worlds are more alien to her than the wormholes hiding in the darkness of vast space surrounding her and all men.
Born of uncertain parents, untattooed and clanless. Raised by Sebiestor spacers in a rusted frigate floating aimlessly between worlds she learned the value of tools and ingenuity at a very young age. Ships became a part of her, extensions of her. The subtle vibrations and hums of the metal and electronics around her a symphony in her mind that speak to her in tongues as clear to her as common english.
A capsuleer she became. A procedure that was forced upon her. Is she real? Does her consciousness end and a brand new soul is created as a copy? These questions burn in her, leaving her empty, making her feel like a cheap copy of a real soul. To fill the emptiness of her copied soul she endevours to do what kindness she can to those around her. The cruelty and degeneracy of those around her bothering her on a fundamental level.
Banished. A life in her past she can no longer be a part of. She flees, or is banished? The end result the same. Here she is where you find her, severed permanently from her past and looking with dead eyes at a universe with no future