Post by Meira on Sept 4, 2012 19:39:13 GMT -5
Faction: Republic
Department: Special Operations Dept.
Rank: Specialist
Name: Meelo Dar'Terys
Race: Balosar
Age: 23 (25 according to official Army records)
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 165
Birth place: Balosar
Appearance:
On the slimmer side of athletic, Meelo sports a lean frame. He is tall, with sandy skin and brown hair that he has grown into short dreadlocks as his own form of rebellion against his military life. Almond shaped green eyes peer out from a face that could be considered pointy. He's often found with stubble along his chin, a growth that tends to take weeks to appear en force.
When not in his field gear, Meelo prefers the "spacer" look, with comfortable shirts, pants, and a jacket, as well as a trusty utility belt to hold his knives and other baubles.
Personality: In a word: Irreverent. Having grown up on the crime infested streets of Balosar, Meelo learned from a young age that the most important thing is to look out for Number 1. It was a necessary trait for those wanting to avoid death. His transition into the military was a rocky one, considering it wasn't exactly "voluntary", and so it's been a long road breaking the selfish habits of his youth.
One thing the military has taught him, however, is trust. Before joining, the concept was entirely foreign to Meelo. Anyone wanting him to trust them was trying to manipulate him in some way. Not so in his current life. Because of this, Meelo has found a sort of relaxation that he has never known before.
Sarcastic by default, Meelo is never quite genuine, even in his new-found trusting environment. He continues to put on a facade of indifference toward those around him, though he has become quite attached to his current unit. With this detachment, however, comes a sense of humor that he is quick to produce. Meelo tends to enjoy playing the magician for his comrades, performing feats of slight of hand. His secrets, however, are well guarded. One wouldn't want the illusion to be spoiled.
Surprisingly, Meelo has something of a poet's heart. With a decent voice, and a knack for creating a rhyme, he's become something of the group's bard. Their adventures are forever made immortal in song, shared often over a round... or seven.
Skills:
Tracking
Surveillance
Pickpocketing
Slight of hand
Stealth
Race Sensitive Abilities:
Subsonic hearing
"Danger" sense
Emotional sense
Resistance to toxins and poisons
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 5
Intelligence: 5
Speed: 5
Leadership: 2
Unarmed: 4
Melee Weapons: 7
Ranged Weapons: 7
Bio:
To call Meelo's upbringing comfortable would be a lie, but to call it difficult would be slightly unfair. There wasn't often such a thing as an easy life on Balosar, not unless you were one of the super-rich. Meelo did not come from super-rich stock. He was born to very average Balosar parents, meaning that they didn't make much money and often found themselves tangled into the crime that engulfed their polluted planet.
His parents weren't actually a married couple. Teela, his mother, was a young and naive woman, just out of school and looking for some excitement in her life. Terys was more than willing to give her what she was looking for, so long as she didn't become too attached. She promised she wouldn't, but of course she did. Terys did his best to keep her at arms length, not letting her interfere with his life as a minor drug dealer. Teela convinced herself that in time, he would grow to love her as much as she did him, and so was elated when she discovered she was pregnant. Terys, on the other hand, saw this as an opportunity to skip town. He told Teela he was going to Coruscant to set them up a proper home. It was an obvious lie, but Teela held onto it with all her will.
When Meelo was born, Teela gave him the surname Dar'Terys so that none would question who the boy's father was. His first years were typical. He grew to be exceptional in no way whatsoever. The only thing that stood him apart was that he was slightly taller than his peers. His mother didn't much encourage him to be outgoing or anything of the sort. It wouldn't matter because they'd soon be leaving for Coruscant to be with his father. It was a fairy tale that Meelo thought a reality for the majority of his youth.
But as he aged, entering his adolescent years, Meelo began to see the truth of the tale. It shamed him to see his mother so delusional, but he couldn't bring himself to contradict her. What has started as a hope for an exciting future turned into a sad reality of the present. They weren't going anywhere. His father was nothing more than some chump that didn't want to stick around.
As this realization grew within him, Meelo gave into the "easy" life of a young Balosar. He began to hang out with seedier friends, the kind that were trying to impress minor gang bosses. Gangs were an overly common thing on his planet. They formed the complicated structure of the crime business. Kids worked for minor gangs, who worked for larger gangs. Meelo had no way of knowing how high up it all went, but it really didn't matter. What mattered was having some sort of affiliation and trying to work your way up.
And so that is what he did. By the age of 12, he was running errands and playing spy for a local gang. And he was good at it too. Though all Balosar possess an innate ability to sense danger and the emotions of others, it was something to say that one could stand out amongst many with the same skill. Like his companions, Meelo became adept at minor theft and pickpocketing, the kinds of things that would earn them a place to stay for the night and maybe a meal if they did well. He apparently did well enough. He quickly became a favorite of the young whelps, as they were often called. He became something of a pet project for a man called Skid.
Skid showed Meelo the ropes of his gang, and made it apparent that the boy was being groomed to eventually join. As a bonus display of favoritism, Skid taught Meelo his way around knives of all kinds, throwing knives in particular. Skid also taught Meelo the importance of watching out for himself above all others. In their lifestyle, there'd always been someone looking for a chance to stab you in the back. The trick was to notice the signs and stab first.
Slowly, Meelo would learn just how paraniod Skid truly was. After a night of too many booze and death sticks, Skid went into a rage, certain that Meelo was part of some plot to overthrow him. Meelo found himself running through the streets, fleeing for his life as the people he thought were his friends chased him down.
Ducking through the first unlocked door he found, Meelo was panting when two men found him. These men were army recruiters, and they'd been given a firm suggestion to up their recruitment numbers. They immediately went into their pitch, but Meelo hardly heard them. He turned and opened the door to leave, but in the alley outside, his former gang mates were closing in. In a panic, Meelo slammed the door and agreed to the recruiters' offer, assuring them that he was indeed 16. Meelo was, in fact, only 14.
The boy certainly didn't know what he was getting himself into, but the army would waste no time. He was shipped off to basic training sooner than he could spit at Skid and his gang, leaving Balosar in his wake for good. At basic, Meelo quickly saw himself beaten down and nearly broken by drill instructors and other recruits alike. If asked, he'd hardly be able to recount his time at basic training. His brain saw fit to show him mercy and repress the memories.
What was obvious, though, was that Meelo was no true soldier. He barely proved adequate at all the tasks he was presented with, spare for field orienteering, which he showed some talent indeed. His training after that would focus on developing and improving such skills.
In spite of the education Meelo was receiving, he often found himself in danger of being discharged. His tendency toward theft bordered on kleptomania, and he often did not get along well with his peers. This saw the young man passed between units several times in his first few years in military service. That is, until, a certain officer recognized Meelo's "problems" for what they truly were, misappropriated talents.
Meelo was transferred to the Special Operations Department, where he received more extensive training to set him on the path to becoming a scout. Such a position suited the young Balosar well. He received a degree more freedom than he'd been given before, allowing him to relax somewhat and be more himself. He was also able to train in styles of combat that suited him better, allowing for more stealth than the basic grunt soldier would be used to. Within 4 years, he'd served on only 2 teams, as compared to the near dozen he'd served with before being transferred. When his orders were up with the last team, he was given a new assignment with the "Fighting Wampas".
Password: IDOWHATIWANT!!!!
RP Sample:
"You look like a hippie, Meelo. That hair is gonna get you in trouble again."
Meelo chuckled to himself as he leaned back in his chair, a lit cigarette dangling between his lips. The human across from him was a straight laced, by the book kind of soldier. The kind Meelo just couldn't help but mess with. He ran a hand through his hair, slow and dramatic. The tangled mess made it somewhat impossible to do, but dread locks were a process, after all.
"Don't be jealous, Tank."
"I'm not jealous." It was obvious the man had no desire to sport such a hair style.
"Don't worry about me, darling. I won't get in trouble. I've got special permission!" When Tank's brow creased in obvious confusion, Meelo chuckled again and extended his antennapalps passed his mess of brown hair. Once they were fully extended, he gave them a quick wiggle for added effect. "Gotta protect the assets, am I right?"
Tank wrinkled his nose in disgust and took the opportunity to excuse himself from Meelo's company. The young Balosar watched him leave with a smile, taking a drag from his cigarette. It didn't matter what Tank thought. Tomorrow Meelo would be joining his new team. Surely a group known as the Fighting Wampas would have a better sense of humor.
Department: Special Operations Dept.
Rank: Specialist
Name: Meelo Dar'Terys
Race: Balosar
Age: 23 (25 according to official Army records)
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 165
Birth place: Balosar
Appearance:
On the slimmer side of athletic, Meelo sports a lean frame. He is tall, with sandy skin and brown hair that he has grown into short dreadlocks as his own form of rebellion against his military life. Almond shaped green eyes peer out from a face that could be considered pointy. He's often found with stubble along his chin, a growth that tends to take weeks to appear en force.
When not in his field gear, Meelo prefers the "spacer" look, with comfortable shirts, pants, and a jacket, as well as a trusty utility belt to hold his knives and other baubles.
Personality: In a word: Irreverent. Having grown up on the crime infested streets of Balosar, Meelo learned from a young age that the most important thing is to look out for Number 1. It was a necessary trait for those wanting to avoid death. His transition into the military was a rocky one, considering it wasn't exactly "voluntary", and so it's been a long road breaking the selfish habits of his youth.
One thing the military has taught him, however, is trust. Before joining, the concept was entirely foreign to Meelo. Anyone wanting him to trust them was trying to manipulate him in some way. Not so in his current life. Because of this, Meelo has found a sort of relaxation that he has never known before.
Sarcastic by default, Meelo is never quite genuine, even in his new-found trusting environment. He continues to put on a facade of indifference toward those around him, though he has become quite attached to his current unit. With this detachment, however, comes a sense of humor that he is quick to produce. Meelo tends to enjoy playing the magician for his comrades, performing feats of slight of hand. His secrets, however, are well guarded. One wouldn't want the illusion to be spoiled.
Surprisingly, Meelo has something of a poet's heart. With a decent voice, and a knack for creating a rhyme, he's become something of the group's bard. Their adventures are forever made immortal in song, shared often over a round... or seven.
Skills:
Tracking
Surveillance
Pickpocketing
Slight of hand
Stealth
Race Sensitive Abilities:
Subsonic hearing
"Danger" sense
Emotional sense
Resistance to toxins and poisons
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 5
Intelligence: 5
Speed: 5
Leadership: 2
Unarmed: 4
Melee Weapons: 7
Ranged Weapons: 7
Bio:
To call Meelo's upbringing comfortable would be a lie, but to call it difficult would be slightly unfair. There wasn't often such a thing as an easy life on Balosar, not unless you were one of the super-rich. Meelo did not come from super-rich stock. He was born to very average Balosar parents, meaning that they didn't make much money and often found themselves tangled into the crime that engulfed their polluted planet.
His parents weren't actually a married couple. Teela, his mother, was a young and naive woman, just out of school and looking for some excitement in her life. Terys was more than willing to give her what she was looking for, so long as she didn't become too attached. She promised she wouldn't, but of course she did. Terys did his best to keep her at arms length, not letting her interfere with his life as a minor drug dealer. Teela convinced herself that in time, he would grow to love her as much as she did him, and so was elated when she discovered she was pregnant. Terys, on the other hand, saw this as an opportunity to skip town. He told Teela he was going to Coruscant to set them up a proper home. It was an obvious lie, but Teela held onto it with all her will.
When Meelo was born, Teela gave him the surname Dar'Terys so that none would question who the boy's father was. His first years were typical. He grew to be exceptional in no way whatsoever. The only thing that stood him apart was that he was slightly taller than his peers. His mother didn't much encourage him to be outgoing or anything of the sort. It wouldn't matter because they'd soon be leaving for Coruscant to be with his father. It was a fairy tale that Meelo thought a reality for the majority of his youth.
But as he aged, entering his adolescent years, Meelo began to see the truth of the tale. It shamed him to see his mother so delusional, but he couldn't bring himself to contradict her. What has started as a hope for an exciting future turned into a sad reality of the present. They weren't going anywhere. His father was nothing more than some chump that didn't want to stick around.
As this realization grew within him, Meelo gave into the "easy" life of a young Balosar. He began to hang out with seedier friends, the kind that were trying to impress minor gang bosses. Gangs were an overly common thing on his planet. They formed the complicated structure of the crime business. Kids worked for minor gangs, who worked for larger gangs. Meelo had no way of knowing how high up it all went, but it really didn't matter. What mattered was having some sort of affiliation and trying to work your way up.
And so that is what he did. By the age of 12, he was running errands and playing spy for a local gang. And he was good at it too. Though all Balosar possess an innate ability to sense danger and the emotions of others, it was something to say that one could stand out amongst many with the same skill. Like his companions, Meelo became adept at minor theft and pickpocketing, the kinds of things that would earn them a place to stay for the night and maybe a meal if they did well. He apparently did well enough. He quickly became a favorite of the young whelps, as they were often called. He became something of a pet project for a man called Skid.
Skid showed Meelo the ropes of his gang, and made it apparent that the boy was being groomed to eventually join. As a bonus display of favoritism, Skid taught Meelo his way around knives of all kinds, throwing knives in particular. Skid also taught Meelo the importance of watching out for himself above all others. In their lifestyle, there'd always been someone looking for a chance to stab you in the back. The trick was to notice the signs and stab first.
Slowly, Meelo would learn just how paraniod Skid truly was. After a night of too many booze and death sticks, Skid went into a rage, certain that Meelo was part of some plot to overthrow him. Meelo found himself running through the streets, fleeing for his life as the people he thought were his friends chased him down.
Ducking through the first unlocked door he found, Meelo was panting when two men found him. These men were army recruiters, and they'd been given a firm suggestion to up their recruitment numbers. They immediately went into their pitch, but Meelo hardly heard them. He turned and opened the door to leave, but in the alley outside, his former gang mates were closing in. In a panic, Meelo slammed the door and agreed to the recruiters' offer, assuring them that he was indeed 16. Meelo was, in fact, only 14.
The boy certainly didn't know what he was getting himself into, but the army would waste no time. He was shipped off to basic training sooner than he could spit at Skid and his gang, leaving Balosar in his wake for good. At basic, Meelo quickly saw himself beaten down and nearly broken by drill instructors and other recruits alike. If asked, he'd hardly be able to recount his time at basic training. His brain saw fit to show him mercy and repress the memories.
What was obvious, though, was that Meelo was no true soldier. He barely proved adequate at all the tasks he was presented with, spare for field orienteering, which he showed some talent indeed. His training after that would focus on developing and improving such skills.
In spite of the education Meelo was receiving, he often found himself in danger of being discharged. His tendency toward theft bordered on kleptomania, and he often did not get along well with his peers. This saw the young man passed between units several times in his first few years in military service. That is, until, a certain officer recognized Meelo's "problems" for what they truly were, misappropriated talents.
Meelo was transferred to the Special Operations Department, where he received more extensive training to set him on the path to becoming a scout. Such a position suited the young Balosar well. He received a degree more freedom than he'd been given before, allowing him to relax somewhat and be more himself. He was also able to train in styles of combat that suited him better, allowing for more stealth than the basic grunt soldier would be used to. Within 4 years, he'd served on only 2 teams, as compared to the near dozen he'd served with before being transferred. When his orders were up with the last team, he was given a new assignment with the "Fighting Wampas".
Password: IDOWHATIWANT!!!!
RP Sample:
"You look like a hippie, Meelo. That hair is gonna get you in trouble again."
Meelo chuckled to himself as he leaned back in his chair, a lit cigarette dangling between his lips. The human across from him was a straight laced, by the book kind of soldier. The kind Meelo just couldn't help but mess with. He ran a hand through his hair, slow and dramatic. The tangled mess made it somewhat impossible to do, but dread locks were a process, after all.
"Don't be jealous, Tank."
"I'm not jealous." It was obvious the man had no desire to sport such a hair style.
"Don't worry about me, darling. I won't get in trouble. I've got special permission!" When Tank's brow creased in obvious confusion, Meelo chuckled again and extended his antennapalps passed his mess of brown hair. Once they were fully extended, he gave them a quick wiggle for added effect. "Gotta protect the assets, am I right?"
Tank wrinkled his nose in disgust and took the opportunity to excuse himself from Meelo's company. The young Balosar watched him leave with a smile, taking a drag from his cigarette. It didn't matter what Tank thought. Tomorrow Meelo would be joining his new team. Surely a group known as the Fighting Wampas would have a better sense of humor.
