Post by Latus on Oct 12, 2008 19:15:27 GMT -5
Name: Itani Firians
Race: Human (Mandalorian Culture)
Age: 23
Height: 6’ 3’’
Weight: 70 kilos (154 lbs)
Appearance: Tall and lank. Itani keeps his hair cut to ~ 2cm but if left to grow it would be a brilliant burnt auburn. Beneath the layer of fuzz are a few small scars cutting through the roots giving his head a crisscrossing look in places. His armor is jet-black with its visor a crimson red. Unlike the bulkier traditional armor, his is a lighter fiber mesh suit meant to be worn under baggy common clothing; a donation from a pirate who was too dead to care. The head-piece is a full head mask that he keeps tucked inside a flap in the suit itself. Also unlike more traditional Mandalorian armor, Itani’s has no meaning associated with its color. Instead he just liked the way it looked when he obtained it. His eyes are pale gray.
Birth place: Concord Dawn
Profession: Assassin, Mercenary, Bounty Hunter
Bio: Itani was born the second oldest of three children to a human-mandalorian family of farmers on Concord Dawn. Like all mando children, he was raised by his mother until the age of three, when his father started teaching her the ways of a warrior. During this time, he accompanied him on hunting trips, and was put through various types of physical training, such as fighting with a vibroblade, unarmed combat, and learning more about the culture, history, and language of the Mandalorian people. At thirteen, like all mando children on Concord Dawn he was taken to Dxun for the verd'goten or coming of age. He had seen his older sister go through the process herself not a year before. She had returned a different person. It is hard to explain to a 12 year old what really happened during the ceremony but he relished the idea of a week long test of his skill. The first several days, however, were hellish. It rained constantly giving no opportunity to build fire to cook meals. The hunting was poor and he was hounded nightly by boma and other predators. Incredibly he managed to stave of hunger and his own mortality by staying on the move.
On the fifth day, however, his small camp was discovered by a party of raiders who had been watching the mandalorian ships come and go from the planet. They set upon him while he was attempting to prepare food, blasters and blades drawn. Itani had heard of these pirates before; murderers, rapists, the worst of the worst. Thinking of his sister and knowing they could overpower him, he turned and ran into the dense jungle. As luck would have it he fell through a hatch that was rotted through sprawling him out onto the cold permacrete floor of an ancient weapons bunker. The raiders, who were not so lucky, missed the opening entirely. Itani had stumbled upon a weapon cache from an ancient mandalorian war. Grinning with delight he armed himself with whatever he could use (and whatever still functioned properly). One of the more interesting things he found was samples of a lethal nerve-agent and, thinking on the fly, applied some to one of the old vibro-blades. For the rest of his time on Dxun he silently killed each pirate using the natural terrain, the weapons from the bunker, and survival skills he had learned. When his father arrived he was shocked to find a fully stocked ship and his son preparing to depart. The clan welcomed his return and honored him for his deeds. The raider’s ship was then placed into storage. He kept the bunker a secret from his family, wishing to peruse the contents further. It was not long after that his sister departed in the company of a Bounty Hunter.
Later that year he reclaimed the ship and returned to Dxun, determined to understand more about the bunker he had discovered. After a more thorough search he located manifests, orders, documents, and old holo-vids dating the bunker at several thousand years old. Once again intrigued by his find he emptied the bunker of all its contents, filling the holds of his ship. The nerve agent was kept very close, seeing as it had saved his life. With that he departed Dxun, determined to study the documents. For weeks he floated, decoding and decrypting the data within. The documents were cultural primers on the ancient mandalorians, something Itani found most interesting. They included the Resol'Nare (Six Actions), ancient methods of the verd'goten, and how one should conduct himself in the universe. He also found methods used in bounty hunting and how to kill efficiently both in combat and out. Armed with this new wisdom he changed course for Haruun Kal, the residence of a friend of a friend.
For nearly seven years he trained under the tutelage of a Vishii Corneu, an expert bounty hunter/assassin who was past his prime. On more than one occasion Itani was sent in his stead to bring in a bounty. It was on these trips that he developed a malicious attitude about killing, holding no quarter if his opponent was a bit feisty. He even put the nerve agent to use, killing his targets silently and without mercy. After one particularly nasty assignment he returned to find Vishii dead. His killer, a disgruntled relative of a bounty, was unprepared; it took only a few seconds for Itani to end the man.
Leaving Haruun, Itani became a true bounty hunter himself. In truth he became more of an assassin. His methods while efficient were bold, brash, and loud. He even took to mercenary work, dispatching pirate vessels through espionage and a quick tongue. While he does the job primarily for the credits, he still holds ties with a few scattered mandalorians. If it means the job pays well, he is willing to put honor second to get the job done.
Skills:
Stealth: 6
Security: 5
Computer Use: 4
Repair: 3
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 4
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 6
Leadership: 1
Unarmed: 4
Melee Weapons: 6
Ranged Weapons: 4
Alignment: 01
RP Sample:
It was impossible to see straight. Smoke filled the entirety of the room, a small dive on the lower platforms of Coruscant. Several hundred people, some human and some not, were crammed into a small clearing before a raised stage. The only real light came from behind the performer in the form of rotating spotlights which were amplified by the smoke. A young human in his mid twenties was nearly screaming into a mike in time with blasting music. You know the kind, the ear destroying brain-rot that only interested a small percentage of the population. However, it was that percentage that they apparently cared about. The greater number of them had death sticks, sucking on them as they jumped up and down with the pounding beat. He didn’t care, they were meaningless.
The one he cared about was the singer on the stage. He had been reading some odd output from the speakers since he arrived. His implants were too weak to pick up any decipherable information but his sources were true, they were doing more than just rotting brains. This was full out brain washing. Oh well, made the act all the more honorable and the credits more worthwhile. Smiling slightly he glanced at his time-piece.
It truly is amazing what one can do with enough death sticks.
“I just die,” It’s really almost too easy, “To keep going on!”
“I just die…” If you boil them long enough… “To keep going on…”
“I just die…” You can concentrate them to the point… “To keep… going on!
“I… just die…” Where they are so potent… “To… keep going… on!”
“I…” That the chemical kills on skin contact and it looks like they just overused.
The young man crumpled in a heap on the stage. The members of the band sprung up in worry and the ones in the crowd not high on death sticks started screaming and yelling. Itani, by that point was already calling the feds and preparing a heart felt fanboy sob-story as to how his “favorite singer of all time” collapsed on the stage. The time release plate in his shoes went off exactly as planned. The dose was just enough to finish him with an obvious bonus. The feds arrived a few minutes after, questioned everyone and made an arrest, one of the band members, for providing the death sticks. With a stifled laugh, Itani vacated, returning to his ship. After a moments wait he had made contact with his employer.
“Its done, deposit the credits in the account I provided.”
Ship Name: Nameless
Race: Human (Mandalorian Culture)
Age: 23
Height: 6’ 3’’
Weight: 70 kilos (154 lbs)
Appearance: Tall and lank. Itani keeps his hair cut to ~ 2cm but if left to grow it would be a brilliant burnt auburn. Beneath the layer of fuzz are a few small scars cutting through the roots giving his head a crisscrossing look in places. His armor is jet-black with its visor a crimson red. Unlike the bulkier traditional armor, his is a lighter fiber mesh suit meant to be worn under baggy common clothing; a donation from a pirate who was too dead to care. The head-piece is a full head mask that he keeps tucked inside a flap in the suit itself. Also unlike more traditional Mandalorian armor, Itani’s has no meaning associated with its color. Instead he just liked the way it looked when he obtained it. His eyes are pale gray.
Birth place: Concord Dawn
Profession: Assassin, Mercenary, Bounty Hunter
Bio: Itani was born the second oldest of three children to a human-mandalorian family of farmers on Concord Dawn. Like all mando children, he was raised by his mother until the age of three, when his father started teaching her the ways of a warrior. During this time, he accompanied him on hunting trips, and was put through various types of physical training, such as fighting with a vibroblade, unarmed combat, and learning more about the culture, history, and language of the Mandalorian people. At thirteen, like all mando children on Concord Dawn he was taken to Dxun for the verd'goten or coming of age. He had seen his older sister go through the process herself not a year before. She had returned a different person. It is hard to explain to a 12 year old what really happened during the ceremony but he relished the idea of a week long test of his skill. The first several days, however, were hellish. It rained constantly giving no opportunity to build fire to cook meals. The hunting was poor and he was hounded nightly by boma and other predators. Incredibly he managed to stave of hunger and his own mortality by staying on the move.
On the fifth day, however, his small camp was discovered by a party of raiders who had been watching the mandalorian ships come and go from the planet. They set upon him while he was attempting to prepare food, blasters and blades drawn. Itani had heard of these pirates before; murderers, rapists, the worst of the worst. Thinking of his sister and knowing they could overpower him, he turned and ran into the dense jungle. As luck would have it he fell through a hatch that was rotted through sprawling him out onto the cold permacrete floor of an ancient weapons bunker. The raiders, who were not so lucky, missed the opening entirely. Itani had stumbled upon a weapon cache from an ancient mandalorian war. Grinning with delight he armed himself with whatever he could use (and whatever still functioned properly). One of the more interesting things he found was samples of a lethal nerve-agent and, thinking on the fly, applied some to one of the old vibro-blades. For the rest of his time on Dxun he silently killed each pirate using the natural terrain, the weapons from the bunker, and survival skills he had learned. When his father arrived he was shocked to find a fully stocked ship and his son preparing to depart. The clan welcomed his return and honored him for his deeds. The raider’s ship was then placed into storage. He kept the bunker a secret from his family, wishing to peruse the contents further. It was not long after that his sister departed in the company of a Bounty Hunter.
Later that year he reclaimed the ship and returned to Dxun, determined to understand more about the bunker he had discovered. After a more thorough search he located manifests, orders, documents, and old holo-vids dating the bunker at several thousand years old. Once again intrigued by his find he emptied the bunker of all its contents, filling the holds of his ship. The nerve agent was kept very close, seeing as it had saved his life. With that he departed Dxun, determined to study the documents. For weeks he floated, decoding and decrypting the data within. The documents were cultural primers on the ancient mandalorians, something Itani found most interesting. They included the Resol'Nare (Six Actions), ancient methods of the verd'goten, and how one should conduct himself in the universe. He also found methods used in bounty hunting and how to kill efficiently both in combat and out. Armed with this new wisdom he changed course for Haruun Kal, the residence of a friend of a friend.
For nearly seven years he trained under the tutelage of a Vishii Corneu, an expert bounty hunter/assassin who was past his prime. On more than one occasion Itani was sent in his stead to bring in a bounty. It was on these trips that he developed a malicious attitude about killing, holding no quarter if his opponent was a bit feisty. He even put the nerve agent to use, killing his targets silently and without mercy. After one particularly nasty assignment he returned to find Vishii dead. His killer, a disgruntled relative of a bounty, was unprepared; it took only a few seconds for Itani to end the man.
Leaving Haruun, Itani became a true bounty hunter himself. In truth he became more of an assassin. His methods while efficient were bold, brash, and loud. He even took to mercenary work, dispatching pirate vessels through espionage and a quick tongue. While he does the job primarily for the credits, he still holds ties with a few scattered mandalorians. If it means the job pays well, he is willing to put honor second to get the job done.
Skills:
Stealth: 6
Security: 5
Computer Use: 4
Repair: 3
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 4
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 6
Leadership: 1
Unarmed: 4
Melee Weapons: 6
Ranged Weapons: 4
Alignment: 01
RP Sample:
It was impossible to see straight. Smoke filled the entirety of the room, a small dive on the lower platforms of Coruscant. Several hundred people, some human and some not, were crammed into a small clearing before a raised stage. The only real light came from behind the performer in the form of rotating spotlights which were amplified by the smoke. A young human in his mid twenties was nearly screaming into a mike in time with blasting music. You know the kind, the ear destroying brain-rot that only interested a small percentage of the population. However, it was that percentage that they apparently cared about. The greater number of them had death sticks, sucking on them as they jumped up and down with the pounding beat. He didn’t care, they were meaningless.
The one he cared about was the singer on the stage. He had been reading some odd output from the speakers since he arrived. His implants were too weak to pick up any decipherable information but his sources were true, they were doing more than just rotting brains. This was full out brain washing. Oh well, made the act all the more honorable and the credits more worthwhile. Smiling slightly he glanced at his time-piece.
It truly is amazing what one can do with enough death sticks.
“I just die,” It’s really almost too easy, “To keep going on!”
“I just die…” If you boil them long enough… “To keep going on…”
“I just die…” You can concentrate them to the point… “To keep… going on!
“I… just die…” Where they are so potent… “To… keep going… on!”
“I…” That the chemical kills on skin contact and it looks like they just overused.
The young man crumpled in a heap on the stage. The members of the band sprung up in worry and the ones in the crowd not high on death sticks started screaming and yelling. Itani, by that point was already calling the feds and preparing a heart felt fanboy sob-story as to how his “favorite singer of all time” collapsed on the stage. The time release plate in his shoes went off exactly as planned. The dose was just enough to finish him with an obvious bonus. The feds arrived a few minutes after, questioned everyone and made an arrest, one of the band members, for providing the death sticks. With a stifled laugh, Itani vacated, returning to his ship. After a moments wait he had made contact with his employer.
“Its done, deposit the credits in the account I provided.”
Ship Name: Nameless
