Idris is a pilot who's a control freak with no filter. He's both argumentative and unrefined. Even on his best days. He's a nitpicker with a great attention to detail, especially when it comes to interpersonal relations. Motivated by the sheer adrenaline rush of making big pieces of metal move (a.k.a. flying), Idris exagerates, speaks with a significant passion and gestures a lot with his hands.
Nothing, and I mean nothing compares to flying boats in the black. Fly it right and it's even better than ... well, you know. Fly it left, and... well, ask Wren the answer to that one. There ain't a bigger rush in the 'verse than to talk dirty to the nav controls and make that girl go fast. I don't even need a drink during flight nor even after. It may look like I been drinkin' on the job, but it's the job that's done it, true.
My Ruddy PersonalityThere are a lot of things about myself that I hold closer to my person than a nun with her purse. That bein' said, you've got to know four things about me: 1) I like my drink; 2) I like my women; 3) I like to talk dirty to the pilot's controls; and finally, 4) I love my Hawaiian shirts a lot, like a mother likes her son.
My Goals in Life & Per-sonal De-velop-ment
I have no goals to speak of, really. I had one goal and that was to join up with a crew after the mess Cady done gave me. And now that I'm crew on board the Redemption, it seems fitting that I don't have any. But my personal development? God, how I hate big words. Why can't you just say my growth as a person? Why use such big hulkin' words like per-sonal de-velop-ment? Well, I'd like to say I'm the best pilot in the black, but I know I ain't. That spot might ruddy well go to Lucas, given how well he flies the Redemption. But I'd like to be a better pilot. A lot better. I'm pretty good already, but it don't mean I don't want to be better. There anythin' wrong with wanting to be a better man? No, I should hope not.
Preferences in Noodles
I want to eat noodles in every port I go to in the next five years. Honest to the shepherd's God. Persephone's noodles aren't that bad, but Newhall's are better. The noodles on Persephone have a habit of being too pasty for my taste. With Newhall's noodles, they don't add enough soup. The best I've ever had was on Regina, but I'm a little biased. So, that's why I want to check out the other port's noodles. Maybe there are better noodles out there. I don't know. Guess that means I've got to do some explorin' to do. There's nothin' wrong in trying to fin' better noodles out there in the black.
My Gorram Morals
I've already discussed this haven't I? There's nothin' I wouldn' do to save the crew of the Redemption. But... I'd just as easy hide behind a gunbunny like Adila or cattleprodder like Beckett if a situation arose. That bein' said, I do like my Slipshot when I need to use it. I guess that's what you could call a gorram moral grey ground. Is that why Grey's called Grey? Is there no black and white to that man? What? Oh right. The moral thing. It's grey, what can I say?
Here Be the History of Id
AbandonmentMy mother raised me, I didn't ever know my father. Though, there were times when I thought he was one of the miners in the town I lived in on Regina. But honestly, it didn't matter to me. Honestly, all them miners were my father when it came down to it. One of 'em died in the mines, another guy replaced him.
I didn't really know what to do with myself when the miners began leavin' Regina in droves to join the war effort. I honest-to-God didn't. So I just began actin' out like any roustabout does. I fought many a battle in the streets and alleys of my town until my mother done slapped me and told me to get it together all proper-like.
I did try the straight way in life, honest I did, but I always found myself back in them alleys fightin' dirty with whatever punk thought that they could hit me and get me all beaten-like. Frankly, I just needed the pain. It done hurt when them miners left me alone. By the time I was 18, I'm guessin' I'd had enough and tried for something different in life. So I met a few pilots in my days after Regina, but nothin' really came of it until I realized how much time I was spendin' on the bridges of them boats I was a passenger of. You know? So I finally ended up in the academy, fightin' tooth and nail, every which way, to come out with good enough marks. It was easier for them folks who practically lived on ships, but me? From a bodunk planet like Regina? It was hard work. Harder than fightin' off koalas, I'm expectin' (but don't quote me on that one, Beckett might just disagree with me there!). It was easy for the others, hard for me. I seem to find a lot of hardness in my life, and the flight academy ain't that different. With the academy behind me, I began taking small time gigs with both private and commercial flights, boats of bigger size than anything else, but I did try the transport route too during the war. Nothing could ever stop me when I wanted to fly. I'd take any job, any length of gig, any ship, just to stay afloat in my lot in life. If there was a moment I was actually alone, a moment I stopped, it was that moment that made me remember them miners, my mother, my past, and just dive into the bottle. Keepin' my hands busy meant keeping my mind busy.
As far as the Unification War was concerned, I tried not to think about it much. I hunkered down and did my job. While the rest of the people were fightin' for something good and honest, I was just tryin' to fly. Don't get me wrong, I did my share of work near the some of the war's hot spots at times, I just didn't pick any side. I still didn't like the Alliance for what it did to my planet. For takin' my friends away to fight the good fight. But... why get my hands dirty when I didn't have to, right?
By the time the war ended and all was okay-sort-of-kinda-right with the 'verse, I'd managed to pack my credentials with more than just street fightin' in them alleys and playin' dirty in the bars. As much as I'd like to say I had the best gigs in the black, I took what I could get. I'd flown pleasure cruises, site-to-site transports, and lots of other gigs in between. I'd plumb forgotten about those days in the alleys. Maybe it was the flyin' or the booze, but it coulda been Cady, too.Cady was a greasemonkey I met on board the Sanguinus. Red hair, all freckly, and god, she always smelled good. Maybe it was just the grease and whatever else they got goin' down in the engine room, but she always ended up smellin' good. She an' I got together during the Sanguinus, and from then on, she an' I were a pair. Partners in crime. Wheelin' and dealin', so to speak. We played games with one another. The first two years, we were a package deal for crews. You didn't get one without the other kinda deal.
She ended up sleeping with some other pilot on the ship I was flying, I threw it back in her face by sleepin' with a doc-lady on the boat she was workin' for. It became a game of one-upmanship, I guess. And finally, it just collapsed unto itself real tragic-like. We were on Persephone and neither of us had gigs yet. It was one of those days when both of us were tired of the fightin' and we just had had enough. So we went out and got flat out hammered. I ended up gambling all my pay from the last gig, hit it big. Hit it real big. All those winnings were going to go the bank, so I had something to live on until the next gig. And what does Cady end up doing? She ties me up in bed and runs off the planet with my money before my bloody hands can put it in the bank!
Post IC-type Happenings
So that's how I found myself with what little funds I had already on Persephone. It's not like me to go on a binge of drinking after being suckered like that. Don't get me wrong, I thought about doing that about every day I started looking for work. It's easy to just drink your worries away like that. But this was flying. And flying was and will always be my first love. Anyways, I came across Passe and Zora after getting some noodles from Zhen Lao, that vendor at the Persephone Spaceport? You know the one, the guy that has a different mystery meat in the soup every day. Sometimes I think it's the mystery meat that makes the noodles so good. Anyways, where was I?
Oh right, Passe and Zora. I ended up gettin' on Zora's bad side right quick, but Passe told me the Redemption was still lookin' for a pilot. After meetin' them, I ended up meetin' a few other crew members from the Redemption, notably Wren. There's just somethin' about that woman. I just can't explain it. Which is why I ended up having to help her away from the precipice when that earthquake down in Eavesdown Docks happened. And that's how I ended up on the Redemption, eating and living with the crew, like Adila and Pix and all them others. So, a couple mugs of Alabaster's cocoa and a number of talks with Sam, Grey and them all later, I ended up joining up with them as a helmsman. This about the same time those boys from the slaver ship came on board.
What a life, eh?
- 5-inch long bloody dagger in the middle of the chest.
- Miner's pick on the right shoulder.
- A bright yellow sun with a smiley face on it on the left shoulder.
- One above the brow.
- A wider scar at on the left side of the lower back.
- A three inch long scar down the right side of the right thigh