Post by tomatoassassin on Mar 28, 2014 17:59:30 GMT -5
Name: Artimus
Cliff Race: Human
Age: 24
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 185
Appearance: Artimus is startling in appearance. The entire right side of his body is covered in scars and marred flesh. His right eye is shadowed and blind, along with his right ear missing entirely. In it's place he has bionics attatched to his skull. His mouth and throat have been blown away, and in their place is a vocalizer and rebreather. Although he is still capable of growing hair on his right side, he shaves regularly to maintain a somewhat balanced appearance. All the same, he wears his hood over his head most times in order to avoid shocking others with his pale skin and harsh appearance. Outside of combat, his movements are slow and deliberate while in comat they are driven and aggressive.
Personality: Artimus has developed an insecurity over his scars and the metalic voice that eminates from his voalizer. Even after living with it for years he has still not adapted to it's presence. As such he prefers to avoid in depth conversation. If it is unavoidable he gives short responses and speaks deliberately. During his time in the Temple, he has grown to be frustrated with much of the Jedi's cryptic speech, seeing it as a way to avoid important matters instead of facing them. As a fighter, he tires quickly of deliberation or politicizing. It is not uncommon for him to walk out of a room in the middle of another's statement, or an in depth debate. Instead, he believes that true, honest discussion is only achieved through combat. This doesn't mean he's always looking for a fight, only that if someone's true nature is exposed during combat, and that there is nothing more honest. For those who don't fight, he is extra warry of. He can observe and understand someone through combat, but outside of that he feels that there is too much room for deception. He might still trust someone, but he recognizes that he still won't understand them. Many of the tenants of the Jedi resound in Artimus' heart.
Through his training he's developed a deep seeded need to protect others, and fight those who look to dominate their will over others. He's found that a lot of the tenants of the Jedi order prevent them from doing what is necassary, and that someone with strong character needn't live by them strictly in order to resist the allure of the Dark Side. He has been isolated amongst the Jedi because of his extreme beliefs, even though he has never fealt himself to have strayed from his moral path, even if it hasn't aligned perfectly with that of the order. Malice and revenge hold no place in his mind, and it takes events outside of his control to move him to anger. Combat and death, he feels, are simply part of the order of the Force. While he might seem rude or unpleasant to others, Artimus truly feels great joy from what he does. Fighting for others is the purest state of his existance. While he doesn't need approval to do what he does, having someone thank him or embrace him with gratitude brings him immense proportions of satisfaction.
Still, he prefers the company of non-sentient beings, for they are beyond deception and malice. Often he will take excursions to planets with little to no sentient population, if only to experience solitude and meditate in the raw essence of the Force.
Profession: Grey Jedi
Mastery Level: Knight
Birth place: Coruscant
Previous Faction: Jedi
Lightsaber: Single blade lightsaber, single-phase
Color: Blue
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho - 5
Ataru - 5
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Force Speed
Force Jump
Telekinetic: 5
Telepathic: 4
Body: 6
Sense: 4
Protection: n/a
Healing: 2
Destruction: n/a
Specialized Skills:
Acrobatics
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 6
Intelligence: 4
Speed: 6
Leadership: 2
Unarmed: 6
Melee Weapons: 4
Ranged Weapons: 3
Bio: At age 2, Artimus was discovered in the underworld of Coruscant. To his knowledge, he was the child of spice peddlers, but he has no real memory of his life before the Jedi. His life progressed like any younglings. Under the protection of the temple he never really saw the effects of the war, nor knew much of the suffering others endured outside the temple walls. He was removed from all the world that wasn't part of the Jedi way. Amongst the younglings he was one of the more physically dominant. During meditation he would fidget and squirm until they were released. He would spend his free time watching knights spar and practicing his forms. His entirely tutelage was spent with the idiolization of the weapon masters and the idea of running into battle alongside those Jedi.
After his internship as a youngling, Artimus was taken as padawan by Master Krish, an expert duelist in the order. Under his tutelage, Artimus learned of his talent with a lightsaber and his skill in combat. Master Krish would always say "a pen starts and ends wars, while a sword fights them. I carry only one of these." Because of his aggressive tendancies, Master Krish was often at ends with the council, and other Jedi, while his apprentice recieved added scrutiny in all his actions. To Artimus, Master Krish made more sense than anyone. He had no political aspirations, and his loyalty with the order rested in how they helped others without the means to protect themselves . Over his years of education, Artimus and master Krish fought many battles with many opponents. All the while Master Krish would remind him that battle was not a contest of wills, but a dialogue through the force.
During his tutelage the two were sent as a hammer where fighting was thickest. If there was a menace that could not be dealt with through diplomacy, then Artimus and his master were often chosen to lead the assault. Throughout their battles there were many times he would be injured, or defeated, but it was always something he could recover from. Sadly, that had to change for Artimus.
Upon turning 21, and beginning his trials of knighthood, Artimus and his master were sent to a planet on the outer rim for what was supposed to be a simple reconaissance mission. Upon landing, they discovered an abandoned star ship that had almost become one with the landscape. They both sensed the Dark Side festering within it, but it was in both their natures to investigate. Within the vessel they were lead to the cargo bay. A chest sat within. There Master Krish made Artimus wait while he investigated the anomoly. Upon opening the chest, Artimus was able to see his master deflate slightly at what he saw, but from his vantage point he could not tell what it was. His master told him to run, told him that he could protect him from what was to come, but if one of them was to survive he had to run now. It went against everything he believed and everything that was natural to him, but his loyalty to his master won in the end, and Artimus fled the ship. Master Krish was able to run Artimus out of the immediate radius of the trap before a half ton of explosives created a new crater in the planet. Artimus was far enough away from the center that his life was spared, but he was still gravely wounded to the point where extensive reconstructive surgery was necessary, along with the implimentation of a rebreather and vocalizer. Master Krish perished in the explosion, and Artimus was never able to uncover who had set the trap for he and his master. But it gives him comfort to this day that he can still feel his masters presence with him wherever he goes.
Artimus managed to pass his trial for knighthood in his 22nd year, without the guidance of his master. There were some who wanted to prevent his graduation, primarily a Jedi Master Bern, but his deeds in the name of the order were enough that he was able to earn his title. Afterwards he was given missions similar to what he had with his master, only they started becoming more and more obscure and removed from central events. His personal interactions with other Jedi became few and far between, and when they did happen they were short and without aplomb. Little did he know that Master Bern was purposely keeping him at a distance while she politicized his shortcomings to the other masters. After enough time and maneuvering, Master Bern had convinced enough Jedi on the council of Artimus' fall from the Jedi way. The young guardian was invited to the temple where his rank as Jedi Knight was stripped and he was banned from the order. Artimus gave them no fight or argument, but simply left the temple into exile.
Today, he has no home, but still has his purpose. When he finds people who need someone to fight for them, he does. He lives sparingly, using what credits he makes for travel and food, but so long as he has purpose he doesn't find any joy in material possession or wealth.
RP Sample:
The Corridor The temple wasn't necessarily in order. Columns lay dormant across vast chambers, and the roof openned up into the night sky. Beyond the walls the life of this world pulsed, wild and raw with the force. But within lay malice. The power generators had given out centuries ago, so only darkness met Artimus' approach to the inner chambers. While the grand ceremony chamber that had first welcomed him was open to both air and life, the jedi could sense the dead air within. Even the lowest life forms recognized the temple as a place to avoid. With a small focus of will, Artimus pushed the first door open. Within was a corridor that stretched as far as the light of his lightsaber would reach. It's walls were unmarred by side entrances or decor of any sort. The ceiling hovered only a foot over his head, while he could reach both opposing walls if he used the length of his weapon to help. The Jedi recognized what places like this could do to one's resiliance, and that he would need to stay warry of his own feelings more than anything.
The walls echoed with the sound of his boots on stone. He was tempted constantly to stretch his mind out to try and sense the end of this corridor, but his instincts told him it was more important to stay in the moment, and in the most focused state of mind he could.
The walls echoed with the sound of his boots on stone. This was a trap, and he knew it. Artimus briefly thought of his old master who used to say "never let an oponents trap go untested". A pang of sadness threatened the Jedi's thoughts, but he pushed them aside.
The walls echoed with the sound of his boots on stone. Artimus' eyes widened, for he wasn't moving. Yet all around him he heard the familiar shuffling of his own feet moving. Lightsaber held up he looked behind him and forward once more. What dark arts...? He collected his thoughts once more and barricaded himself within his mind.
The walls echoed with the sound of his boots on stone. His senses were his own, of that he was nearly positive. This trick, this trap, was not in his mind at least. He might be taken by a stronger, smarter oponent, but he would not be his own undoing.
The walls echoed with the sound of his boots on stone. The rules of this trap were that he be in the corridor. While he was still in it, he was at the mercy of his tormentor. Making sure that he still kept mindful of the present, Artimus reached out with his feelings. Through the rock, down the corridor, and into the night sky. Down the corridor in either direction he felt the dark side clouding his sight. He knew that no matter which way he went, eventually he would be lost. "I won't play by your rules," was the only thing he said aloud before driving his lightsaber to the hilt in the wall to his right. As fast as the cutting of stone would allow, the Jedi made a hole just barely wider than his shoulders across. Throwing his hand forward, the cylinder of stone shot from the wall into a dark chamber, and Artimus lept through after it. He landed in a cavern that had only natural features. Stalactites reached from all ends of the great space, and the air smelt of moisture and stone. The Dark Side still blead from the corridor beyond, but no longer did it cloud the senses with it's stank. In fact, Artimus could smell air beyond the cave, and he made his way towards it.
The open sky greated him, and the sound of life openned his mind to just how clouded he had been. His ship stood away in a clearing, and Artimus decided that he would have to return to this task another day. Whoever, or whatever this opponent was, he was in no state to overtake it now. By not playing by the rules, Artimus had spoiled the intent of the corridor. He didn't want to run, but neither would he play childish shadow games. This shadow would have to make a different sort of effort if it really wanted to face the Jedi. He sent the signal to his nav computer to prepare for take-off, and the engines roared to life as his feet hit the boarding ramp. The doors hissed shut behind him, and as he made his way to the cockpit he felt the artificial gravity compensate for the ships ascent. His right knee ached as he sat into the pilots seat, and his respirator released some pressure that had been building durring his time in the corridor.
He was about to break atmosphere when a thought tickled his mind into revearse. Smoothly, he peeled the ship back into the atmosphere and aproached the temple from the sky. Through the port-shield he could see the temple he had just left. On the steps leading to the entry, flames licked at his ship, beconning it to be part of the blaze. Artimus' eyes squinted against the glare and pierced the smoke to the base of the flames. They weren't random chaos. Instead they formed a symbol that he had never seen before, but was clearly not an accident. Having had enough, the Jedi boosted into space once more. He pulled a holo-pad from his pocket and sketched the symbol. The cyber-net buffed for a second in it's search before pulling up a page.
Mandalorian in origin.
The symbol said Prey.
Artimus was being hunted.
Cliff Race: Human
Age: 24
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 185
Appearance: Artimus is startling in appearance. The entire right side of his body is covered in scars and marred flesh. His right eye is shadowed and blind, along with his right ear missing entirely. In it's place he has bionics attatched to his skull. His mouth and throat have been blown away, and in their place is a vocalizer and rebreather. Although he is still capable of growing hair on his right side, he shaves regularly to maintain a somewhat balanced appearance. All the same, he wears his hood over his head most times in order to avoid shocking others with his pale skin and harsh appearance. Outside of combat, his movements are slow and deliberate while in comat they are driven and aggressive.
Personality: Artimus has developed an insecurity over his scars and the metalic voice that eminates from his voalizer. Even after living with it for years he has still not adapted to it's presence. As such he prefers to avoid in depth conversation. If it is unavoidable he gives short responses and speaks deliberately. During his time in the Temple, he has grown to be frustrated with much of the Jedi's cryptic speech, seeing it as a way to avoid important matters instead of facing them. As a fighter, he tires quickly of deliberation or politicizing. It is not uncommon for him to walk out of a room in the middle of another's statement, or an in depth debate. Instead, he believes that true, honest discussion is only achieved through combat. This doesn't mean he's always looking for a fight, only that if someone's true nature is exposed during combat, and that there is nothing more honest. For those who don't fight, he is extra warry of. He can observe and understand someone through combat, but outside of that he feels that there is too much room for deception. He might still trust someone, but he recognizes that he still won't understand them. Many of the tenants of the Jedi resound in Artimus' heart.
Through his training he's developed a deep seeded need to protect others, and fight those who look to dominate their will over others. He's found that a lot of the tenants of the Jedi order prevent them from doing what is necassary, and that someone with strong character needn't live by them strictly in order to resist the allure of the Dark Side. He has been isolated amongst the Jedi because of his extreme beliefs, even though he has never fealt himself to have strayed from his moral path, even if it hasn't aligned perfectly with that of the order. Malice and revenge hold no place in his mind, and it takes events outside of his control to move him to anger. Combat and death, he feels, are simply part of the order of the Force. While he might seem rude or unpleasant to others, Artimus truly feels great joy from what he does. Fighting for others is the purest state of his existance. While he doesn't need approval to do what he does, having someone thank him or embrace him with gratitude brings him immense proportions of satisfaction.
Still, he prefers the company of non-sentient beings, for they are beyond deception and malice. Often he will take excursions to planets with little to no sentient population, if only to experience solitude and meditate in the raw essence of the Force.
Profession: Grey Jedi
Mastery Level: Knight
Birth place: Coruscant
Previous Faction: Jedi
Lightsaber: Single blade lightsaber, single-phase
Color: Blue
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho - 5
Ataru - 5
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Force Speed
Force Jump
Telekinetic: 5
Telepathic: 4
Body: 6
Sense: 4
Protection: n/a
Healing: 2
Destruction: n/a
Specialized Skills:
Acrobatics
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 6
Intelligence: 4
Speed: 6
Leadership: 2
Unarmed: 6
Melee Weapons: 4
Ranged Weapons: 3
Bio: At age 2, Artimus was discovered in the underworld of Coruscant. To his knowledge, he was the child of spice peddlers, but he has no real memory of his life before the Jedi. His life progressed like any younglings. Under the protection of the temple he never really saw the effects of the war, nor knew much of the suffering others endured outside the temple walls. He was removed from all the world that wasn't part of the Jedi way. Amongst the younglings he was one of the more physically dominant. During meditation he would fidget and squirm until they were released. He would spend his free time watching knights spar and practicing his forms. His entirely tutelage was spent with the idiolization of the weapon masters and the idea of running into battle alongside those Jedi.
After his internship as a youngling, Artimus was taken as padawan by Master Krish, an expert duelist in the order. Under his tutelage, Artimus learned of his talent with a lightsaber and his skill in combat. Master Krish would always say "a pen starts and ends wars, while a sword fights them. I carry only one of these." Because of his aggressive tendancies, Master Krish was often at ends with the council, and other Jedi, while his apprentice recieved added scrutiny in all his actions. To Artimus, Master Krish made more sense than anyone. He had no political aspirations, and his loyalty with the order rested in how they helped others without the means to protect themselves . Over his years of education, Artimus and master Krish fought many battles with many opponents. All the while Master Krish would remind him that battle was not a contest of wills, but a dialogue through the force.
During his tutelage the two were sent as a hammer where fighting was thickest. If there was a menace that could not be dealt with through diplomacy, then Artimus and his master were often chosen to lead the assault. Throughout their battles there were many times he would be injured, or defeated, but it was always something he could recover from. Sadly, that had to change for Artimus.
Upon turning 21, and beginning his trials of knighthood, Artimus and his master were sent to a planet on the outer rim for what was supposed to be a simple reconaissance mission. Upon landing, they discovered an abandoned star ship that had almost become one with the landscape. They both sensed the Dark Side festering within it, but it was in both their natures to investigate. Within the vessel they were lead to the cargo bay. A chest sat within. There Master Krish made Artimus wait while he investigated the anomoly. Upon opening the chest, Artimus was able to see his master deflate slightly at what he saw, but from his vantage point he could not tell what it was. His master told him to run, told him that he could protect him from what was to come, but if one of them was to survive he had to run now. It went against everything he believed and everything that was natural to him, but his loyalty to his master won in the end, and Artimus fled the ship. Master Krish was able to run Artimus out of the immediate radius of the trap before a half ton of explosives created a new crater in the planet. Artimus was far enough away from the center that his life was spared, but he was still gravely wounded to the point where extensive reconstructive surgery was necessary, along with the implimentation of a rebreather and vocalizer. Master Krish perished in the explosion, and Artimus was never able to uncover who had set the trap for he and his master. But it gives him comfort to this day that he can still feel his masters presence with him wherever he goes.
Artimus managed to pass his trial for knighthood in his 22nd year, without the guidance of his master. There were some who wanted to prevent his graduation, primarily a Jedi Master Bern, but his deeds in the name of the order were enough that he was able to earn his title. Afterwards he was given missions similar to what he had with his master, only they started becoming more and more obscure and removed from central events. His personal interactions with other Jedi became few and far between, and when they did happen they were short and without aplomb. Little did he know that Master Bern was purposely keeping him at a distance while she politicized his shortcomings to the other masters. After enough time and maneuvering, Master Bern had convinced enough Jedi on the council of Artimus' fall from the Jedi way. The young guardian was invited to the temple where his rank as Jedi Knight was stripped and he was banned from the order. Artimus gave them no fight or argument, but simply left the temple into exile.
Today, he has no home, but still has his purpose. When he finds people who need someone to fight for them, he does. He lives sparingly, using what credits he makes for travel and food, but so long as he has purpose he doesn't find any joy in material possession or wealth.
RP Sample:
The Corridor The temple wasn't necessarily in order. Columns lay dormant across vast chambers, and the roof openned up into the night sky. Beyond the walls the life of this world pulsed, wild and raw with the force. But within lay malice. The power generators had given out centuries ago, so only darkness met Artimus' approach to the inner chambers. While the grand ceremony chamber that had first welcomed him was open to both air and life, the jedi could sense the dead air within. Even the lowest life forms recognized the temple as a place to avoid. With a small focus of will, Artimus pushed the first door open. Within was a corridor that stretched as far as the light of his lightsaber would reach. It's walls were unmarred by side entrances or decor of any sort. The ceiling hovered only a foot over his head, while he could reach both opposing walls if he used the length of his weapon to help. The Jedi recognized what places like this could do to one's resiliance, and that he would need to stay warry of his own feelings more than anything.
The walls echoed with the sound of his boots on stone. He was tempted constantly to stretch his mind out to try and sense the end of this corridor, but his instincts told him it was more important to stay in the moment, and in the most focused state of mind he could.
The walls echoed with the sound of his boots on stone. This was a trap, and he knew it. Artimus briefly thought of his old master who used to say "never let an oponents trap go untested". A pang of sadness threatened the Jedi's thoughts, but he pushed them aside.
The walls echoed with the sound of his boots on stone. Artimus' eyes widened, for he wasn't moving. Yet all around him he heard the familiar shuffling of his own feet moving. Lightsaber held up he looked behind him and forward once more. What dark arts...? He collected his thoughts once more and barricaded himself within his mind.
The walls echoed with the sound of his boots on stone. His senses were his own, of that he was nearly positive. This trick, this trap, was not in his mind at least. He might be taken by a stronger, smarter oponent, but he would not be his own undoing.
The walls echoed with the sound of his boots on stone. The rules of this trap were that he be in the corridor. While he was still in it, he was at the mercy of his tormentor. Making sure that he still kept mindful of the present, Artimus reached out with his feelings. Through the rock, down the corridor, and into the night sky. Down the corridor in either direction he felt the dark side clouding his sight. He knew that no matter which way he went, eventually he would be lost. "I won't play by your rules," was the only thing he said aloud before driving his lightsaber to the hilt in the wall to his right. As fast as the cutting of stone would allow, the Jedi made a hole just barely wider than his shoulders across. Throwing his hand forward, the cylinder of stone shot from the wall into a dark chamber, and Artimus lept through after it. He landed in a cavern that had only natural features. Stalactites reached from all ends of the great space, and the air smelt of moisture and stone. The Dark Side still blead from the corridor beyond, but no longer did it cloud the senses with it's stank. In fact, Artimus could smell air beyond the cave, and he made his way towards it.
The open sky greated him, and the sound of life openned his mind to just how clouded he had been. His ship stood away in a clearing, and Artimus decided that he would have to return to this task another day. Whoever, or whatever this opponent was, he was in no state to overtake it now. By not playing by the rules, Artimus had spoiled the intent of the corridor. He didn't want to run, but neither would he play childish shadow games. This shadow would have to make a different sort of effort if it really wanted to face the Jedi. He sent the signal to his nav computer to prepare for take-off, and the engines roared to life as his feet hit the boarding ramp. The doors hissed shut behind him, and as he made his way to the cockpit he felt the artificial gravity compensate for the ships ascent. His right knee ached as he sat into the pilots seat, and his respirator released some pressure that had been building durring his time in the corridor.
He was about to break atmosphere when a thought tickled his mind into revearse. Smoothly, he peeled the ship back into the atmosphere and aproached the temple from the sky. Through the port-shield he could see the temple he had just left. On the steps leading to the entry, flames licked at his ship, beconning it to be part of the blaze. Artimus' eyes squinted against the glare and pierced the smoke to the base of the flames. They weren't random chaos. Instead they formed a symbol that he had never seen before, but was clearly not an accident. Having had enough, the Jedi boosted into space once more. He pulled a holo-pad from his pocket and sketched the symbol. The cyber-net buffed for a second in it's search before pulling up a page.
Mandalorian in origin.
The symbol said Prey.
Artimus was being hunted.
