Describe your physical appearance...
I look like a famous tabloid regular.
I am a lot tougher than I look.
I wear glasses and long coats.
My hair almost has a life of it's own.
I can change my appearance very easily.
Sesame Street.

Coruscant is...
Greedy.
Headquarters.
Where I used to live.
Not as bad as where I'm from.
Sometimes home.
My next science project.
Always changing.
I've never been there.
Too worldly.
Pacifistic.

Your ideal squeeze...
Fey'lya, Lah, or anyone else with power.
Has a devil-may-care attitude, but a good heart.
Squeeze? I'm way too practical for that.
Black hair and green eyes.  Let the games begin.
Someone's brain. *squish*
Unfortunately, the unwilling hero of the galaxy.
Whoever is available, but if he isn't, even better.
Your best friend: brave, handsome, and unfortunately dead.
Way too nonconformist for his own good.
Sweet, naive, whiny...and I used to want to kill him.

If you were walking down the street and ran into Han Solo, he would most likely...
Ask you to shoot your father for him.
Grab you and stuff you into a cage.
Pick you up and spin you around.
Call you a blonde with legs.
Shoot you on sight.
Kiss you.
Give you a pitying look.
Ask you about your kid.
Tell you to stop flirting with his son.
Give you a funny look.  And then drop dead.

The dumbest mistake you've ever made...
Was letting a mass murderer and former dark Jedi manipulate you.
Involved Jacen Solo.
Was jumping out of a moving spaceship during an enemy attack to retrieve a dead body.
Was watching helpless while the enemy killed your chum[s]
Was getting within 100 feet of Nom Anor.
Dantoine, dammit! Dantoine!!!.

Why do the fans hate you?
Because I'm egotistical.
Because I'm a Mary Sue.
Because I'm a traitor.
Because of my species.
Because of my vocal mannerisms.
Because of my hairstyles.
People hate me?
Embrace the pain, fanboy.

If you were a fruit?
Now, why would I be a fruit?  This one time, I saw a fruit, and do-ro'ik vong pratte!!!  *drools*
I would lecture all the other fruits with my infinite knowledge.
This is a fact.
Every man in the supermarket would be fighting over me.
I am fruit.  Who are you?
Mutant creation fruit designed to poison infidels...all in a day's work.
If it came down to it, I would sacrifice myself for the sake of fruitiness.
I would betray all the other fruit.
I'd be the sexiest looking fruit on the tree.
...but...I'm not a fruit!  Wait, let me run some tests and check.

Nickname:
Dancer.
Sticks.
Girlie.
Your Worship.
Mary Poo.
Scientist.
Warrior Woman.
Featherbag.
Snakehead.
Icky ____.

Lightsaber Color?





Wait. Why do I need a lightsaber?
I have swiss army knives for fingers.
I'm always borrowing other people's.
Why, with my intelligence, I don't need a lightsaber! Muahahahaha!

Who is dead?
My mommy and my crush.
My brother.
My son and the family dog.
My former master.
My boyfriend.
My boyfriend, my master, and a civilian transport.
My twin sister.
My co-workers.
Jacen Solo.
Me.

Tell me about your siblings?
Siblings?  Not that I know of.
You probably already know about them.
I had a twin.  Kriffing scarheads.
No siblings, but a lot of mean cousins.
Once, I kissed my twin brother.  But you didn't need to know that.
That's crechesibling to you!

Intimidating words!
Everything I tell you is a lie.
Dummy!
Stang!
Embrace the pain, scarhead...
This is Tarc.  I am Welda.
Take us up, flyboy.
This is a fact.
This is all very interesting, but where is it going?
I'm not very intimidating
Mezhan

An evil, malicious, drooling voxyn rushes up to you and...
Bites off your other arm.  But then you kick it's butt without breaking a sweat.  So there.
You blow it up.  And laugh.  And laugh.
You blink.  And it goes away.
You take out your lightsaber and poke it.
You panic.
You start talking to it.  Then you panic.
You hurl dark lightening at it.  Problem solved.
You pat it on the head and say, "that'll do, pig, that'll do."
You get someone else to shoot it.  Then you take samples.
Meh. Farmboy, I'm tired. Kill the voxyn for me?

Let's be impractical.  Clothing, anyone?
White robes.
Flowing rainbow silk.
Leathers.
Tight fitting.
Comfy with no shoes.
Jumpsuits and tight red dresses.
It's alive!
Practical and out of the way.
Weapon concealing.
I don't wear clothing. 

Wait...  Who is the enemy?
Yuuzhan Vong.
New Republic.
Both.
Jeedai and infidels.
Who knows?