Post by Dutch on Sept 23, 2018 11:30:14 GMT -5
 Cooper Tallus Full Name • Cooper Tallus Nickname • Coop, Indigo Wing Race • Human Birthplace • Coronet City, Corellia Age • 36 Gender • Male Sexuality • Hetero Faction • Jedi Order Concept • Jedi Seeker, Cartographer, Veteran Ace, Rank III Languages • Basic, Bocce, Binary Assets • Exploration Corps funding, Spinward Sally; Seeker Modulated Sabre-Class Survey Vessel, RD-88 "Artie" (remote droid), blaster pistol, lightsaber with indigo blade Appearance Face Claim • Chris Pratt Height & Weight • 6’2” | 185 Overall Looks • If one were to see Seeker Tallus out in the rims of the Galaxy, he would appear to be just another human fringer. He keeps his light-brown hair short, and usually sports a bit of facial hair, though unable to grow a full beard. To his despair. His dark green eyes often have a look of quiet curiosity to them, which intensifies tenfold when a mystery begins to crack. Like many Jedi, Cooper is in good physical health, with a build more for one at home in the galactic wilds than a warrior or athlete. At a glance he appears to have no defining marks, but he just hides them well. Coop is careful to keep any from seeing the scars of severe flagellation which criss-cross all across the man. Not out of shame necessarily, but more to avoid the topic of their origin. While he blends into the outer rims well with his style, Tallus sticks out whenever around any sort of Jedi temple. He has long fallen out of the habit of wearing robes, given the rougher conditions of frontier worlds, and instead ops for simple but sturdy fringe attire. The one constant is a maroon duster, where he keeps his lightsaber, a badge with the Jedi insignia, and a personal journal tucked into interior pockets. Whenever RD-88, the remote droid assigned to Coop by the Order, isn’t in use, he too can be found stowed within a pocket. Cooper is also a big fan of quality boots and cozy scarves, as he knows their value in long-term survival situations. Personality Profile Cooper isn’t known by many within the Jedi Order, but those who do know him as a reasonable man with a healthy moral compass. He values liberty, and the Republic’s pursuit in preserving that, above all else. His connections outside the Republic would agree, and aren’t above calling upon the Seeker to help mediate ‘personal disagreements’ with pirates and other scum. Those that do know him intimately would say he is inquisitive to a fault, like many humans, and a great drinking buddy with a good sense of humor. Despite not being around others for long stretches of time, Coop is a warm and personable man, and rarely rubs others the wrong way. He enjoys Corellian ales and food that isn’t ration packs, both the first things he’ll look for when returning to civilization. The Jedi has always been a restless sort, with an insatiable wanderlust. He’s a dreamer, his ultimate quest in life to find the lost world of Xuaquarres and the Duinuogwuin; the Star Dragons. He doesn’t share this with many, tired of the ridicule from mainstream scholars on his passion. Regardless what others think, Coop is determined to rediscover Xuaquarres, and prove to the galaxy it does exist. In the between time during space travel, he enjoys sketching in his journal and listening to holocasts. He has to rely on meditation to curb his restless mind and body when travelling, and is always anxious to get moving after landing. Tallus has his demons, like any other man, but is rare to share his fears and traumas. Background Father • Kurt Tallus, 70, CorSec Captain(Retired) Mother • Merri Tallus, 58, Business Owner Siblings • N/A Other Important Connections • Ono Bono- Jedi Master, Mentor [DECEASED] (Miss Long Lost Love [PLACEHOLDER])- Adoptable Eriel Krieg- Former Wing-mate (More To Be Added) Overall History • The room within the Halls of Healing was cold, but not unpleasantly so. It was the Jedi Temple’s climate control, he knew, perfectly normal for those who resided within. But Cooper Tallus was not used to air conditioning, and stared up at the fan which wafted the cool breeze with an expression of practiced patience. Across the interview table from him a Jedi Healer fiddled with his datapad, the Muun keying up whatever he needed for his debrief with the Jedi Seeker. Coop’s gaze would drift from the fan to the mirror at his left, and didn’t need the Force to sense a supervising Master on the other side. He raised a hand, and waved idly to said Master. The Muun cleared his throat, and the Seeker turned his attention back towards him with a friendly smile and raised brows. He shifted in his seat to interlace fingers, and rested the back of his head into his hands in a comfortable posture. Jedi Healer: As you know, Seeker, it's common practice for us to check your mental faculties upon return to the Core. Welcome home. Cooper Tallus: Yeah man, I remember our last one. Good to be back. JH: Then I will spare you the preamble. This will go the same as last time, my mind will meld with yours, and you'll be asked about your life. Give your best recollection, and be honest. I’ll know if you’re lying. CT: Yup. Ready whenever. JH: Proceeding with neural handshake, Relax your mind, and answer truthfully. Remember- CT: I know, you’ll know if I’m lying. Then you’ll know, that I know, and- JH: Enough, Seeker. You tried this last time. Proceeding with neural handshake… * “How did you come to the Jedi?” Well, I’ve been with them since I was a baby. Born in my parent’s Coronet City apartment, guess my mother was into the holistic delivery thing. She was a hairstylist? I think that’s what my file says. My father was a respectable CorSec officer, guess that’s where I get my loyalty and work ethic. Anyway, so I was born, and the doctors tested for Force sensitivity. Obviously I was, and once stable enough they shipped me off with literally a group of other Corellian children to Coruscant. Just another wad of kids sent to bolster the Order’s numbers, am I right? Don’t look at me like that, it’s a joke not cynicism. So I wasn’t exactly remarkable, didn’t test higher than the average learner, was prone to stupid hi-jinks and clumsy mistakes. Some older Masters like to joke about how I’d hide from them under the robes of larger species- using them as a mobile tent. I was an amusing student, at best. it seems. I studied and followed our tutelage well enough, but for me, it was always to get it over with to do whatever I wanted to do. You could say I was restless, sure, and was an overall median youngling, down to the secret girlfriend I had in my early teens. Just another human, think she was from Dantooine? Sweet girl, we were good friends for most of our life. I started sketching thanks to her, wish I still had some to laugh at how bad they were. When I wasn’t doodling her, I was making caricatures of people in the Temple. Her and I laughed about it for years. … Not to say I was only chasing her robes in that time. I liked to read. Like, a lot. It all started with Tython Bound, you know, that adventure novel about the Jedi rediscovering an ancient cursed temple. After that, I couldn’t stop. Even the really bad stories were great to me, all worth it, because through them I first heard about Xuaquarres, and the Star Dragons. It was an instant obsession, and as soon as I finished Duinuogwuin’s Wish, I asked the Head Librarian how I could find them. He cryptically answered ‘With a dream’, and then nothing seemed to happen. Just the usual routine of classes, girlfriend, sketches and reading. I learned as much as I could about the Star Dragons, literally every datacron and tome I could get my hands on. My obsession never waned, and for good reason. I kept the dream alive, and when it was time, the Head Librarian introduced me to the best friend I ever had. * “Tell me about Ono Bono.” Ono Bono… was more than a mentor. Can’t say ‘father figure’, because, well, hard to know what that’s like, right? But if I had to put a name to that, it would be Ono. You’d recognize him, he was the face of the ExplorCorps for years. You know, durosian space nerfherder with a heart of gold. At the time I met him, he was nearing the end of his term on the Council of Exploration, already a Master despite his relatively young age. He was gifted, warm, wicked intelligent, and the best example of a Jedi you could find. Luckily for me, he was also utterly obsessed with Xuaquarres. I learned later on that had Ono not taken me under his wing, I’d just be another Service Corps cog. But he did, and I started down the path to becoming a real Jedi. He seemed focused on just me for the first year or two, always adamant about the demands of ranging the galactic wilds. You wouldn’t believe a duros could be so physical, but he whipped my flabby butt into shape. Good thing too, because I’m not gonna lie; I missed my little lady friend from the Temple. Ono must have picked up on that, pretty hard to hide emotion from a Jedi Master. I’m sure he drilled me until I was too tired to be angsty for that reason. I was lucky to have him. It didn’t matter what we were doing, conversation always flowed easily between us. Ono always anticipated my next need, and taught me most everything I know. Once I adjusted to my new life, we were like two brothers playing across galactic frontiers. I like to think while I wasn’t his first padawan learner, that I became his favorite. I always liked Ono, but I can remember when I knew I loved him. It was after a trip to Ilum. You know what time it was. He used the search for a lightsaber crystal as a way to teach me moving meditation, to walk reality and tap into the celestial. I had these high expectations for something special, something brilliant. May have been a decent student, but back then I knew I was mediocre and so self-conscious about it. Thought this would be it, that I would be one of those cool Jedi with the fancy blade colors. Maybe a sharp bronze, a shiny gold, or a rich purple. Something that stood out, something that was only mine. I listened to Ilum, I followed the flow of energy, and I found myself before this small, dull, flawed, roughly blue hued crystal. Yup. As basic a color as one could get. I was disappointed, but still took care to harvest it with respect, and began crafting my saber as soon as I could. Took extra precaution to build something sturdy, well crafted, and classically Jedi. If I couldn’t have a special color, I’d craft something so sound that even the Battlemaster would appreciate it. Ono advised whenever asked, but mostly he let me do my thing. He was there for the for ignition. Insisted I do it in a dark chamber aboard our ship. Seeing him standing there, smiling in the indigo glow of my new lightsaber, is when I knew he was family. He didn’t need to point out the lesson. I got it the second I saw indigo. He promised this was my Trial of Skill, now a third of the way to becoming Jedi. The Trial of Flesh came a few months later, was bitten by a damn sandbat on Tatooine, and the venom made me trip balls, man. Ono was my guide, I guess, I don’t remember much but his giant head and the sound of constant flapping sandbat wings. He had melded his own mind with mine, to better monitor my condition the whole trip back to civilization. But what I didn’t know at the time, was that he did not help in fighting off the venom. That was all me. He hid this, and that the event would be my second Trial. Years later I would find out, but only after the Trial of Will. After my first trip to Mustafar. A friend of Ono’s asked for him to help chart a new cavern system found near the Temple there, and so we went. Moving meditation is a funny thing. You can be so easily hypnotized into forgetting the physical, following whims of the Force. I followed them right into a trap door, and literally fell ass-backwards into some sort of secret archive. It didn’t appear more than a couple decades old, most of the tech within stuff I’d seen in Mustafar’s temple, but the artifacts were another story. Ancient Jedi work- you can always tell by the engraving, for only Jedi applied the Force to create art like this. Statues, paintings, lightsabers, holocrons, even a set of ancient Tythonian ceremonial armor. They were all so beautiful, I couldn’t help myself as I picked up a holocron… and blacked out. And my vision opened to the Force. I saw great warships trading blows over worlds, some listing in the great infernos which engulfed them. Swarms of fighters buzzed and blended with the stars, space battles so vast they spanned horizons. Myself- older, fitter, and in a red jumpsuit of some kind literally flying between groups of Republic troopers and these unknown soldiers, my indigo lightsaber ticking back and forth to protect the troopers, holding off attackers as they pushed for the inner city behind us. Then the vision twisted. It was still this older version of me, but that flightsuit was tattered and singed, and my eyes were wide and stained gold. Tainted. With a blaster in each hand I spun and dodged and flew to avoid return fire as I slaughtered the enemy around me, alone. Then I looked at myself and put a blaster bolt between my eyes. I suddenly came to, with Ono looking up at me with concern. Probably because I was literally hovering off the ground, hands held wide with one still clutching the holocron. Fell to the ground as soon as I let go, and Ono admitted he saw everything through our bond. It was the first warning we had of the war to come, but the Council seemed nonplussed by the vision of a padawan. That's what I told myself. Anyway, that was my Trial of Will, and it scared the shit out of me. But it also awoke something. Once again, I was very lucky Ono Bono was my Jedi Master. * “How did you come into incarceration?” “Not to mention, you know, getting Knighted. That was important too.” Anyway... I was knighted in the Jedi Temple, here on Coruscant, with a bunch of strangers and Ono. Didn’t care that only one High Councilor showed, at the time I was just excited to be Jedi. I, Cooper Tallus; Jedi Knight. Good ring to it, right? Well, “Seeker Tallus” sounds even cooler, and that’s what I became after signing up for a charting expedition alongside Ono. Hop, skip, and a hyperspace jump later, and we found ourselves back on Mustafar to meet our team. It was my first time working with people long term, but we were all Jedi, and all excited to get exploring, so it was only awkward for a few days. We first started with Kinooine, then for years ventured Rimward-Trailing, charting unknown space and terrestrial bodies. It was intense, even with an entire survey corvette we were roughing it near the end. Rationed food, rationed water, lack of personal space. But it was all worth it, because we were literally going where none have gone before. There was always a certain grit, a touch of wonder about Ono I always admired. And after months pushing galactic boundaries, I understood where it came from. We heard about the war through the holonet, but the ExploreCorps unsurprisingly stayed out of it. Not much a bunch of nerds could do for the Jedi Blades. Not all of us were big badasses like Vreem Took, OK? I may have practiced Form V every day, and sparred with my fellow Jedi, but rarely had to actually defend myself. Still, we could feel the reverberations of war in the Force, and did our best to stay busy. Some of us even started taking notes of potential secret fallback bases. Should the unthinkable happen. We focused on our venture, but the Force had other plans. Literally as we re-entered Republic space for resupply, the holonet exploded with the Death of Taris. Don’t think anyone will ever forget that footage; the sea of rakghouls sweeping through both pubs and imps, Jedi and Sith, devouring and mutating everyone. Losses so catastrophic our most sensitive empath sobbed for hours before we even knew what had happened. This… was what the Empire seemed willing to do to win. It was then our entire survey team decided to sign up with the rest of the Order, to stop any more Taris’ from happening, and we all went our separate ways. I wanted to join Ono- who became a terrain consultant for the Republic military- but his position was a one man gig. I didn’t want to be on the front lines, if possible, I didn’t want to directly kill anyone at all. The answer was so simple, only Ono could’ve pointed it out; I was our best fly-boy, literally, since I learned how to damn near fly with just TK over the years, thanks to that Mustafarian holocron. Yeah. I said it Fly. So I linked up with the Aces, joined Aegis squadron, and found myself in a similar situation to the survey team. It was as before, awkward at first- especially with mostly former Blades. They came off so hard, so tough, so unified. Think my natural charm and smarm won them over, made them smile, just like you are right now. ...Is that a smile? Do... Muun smile? Not a race thing, just- yeah, right, Jedi Aces. So I was introduced to them and the Besh-77 starfighter, no astromech. Always felt they were more of a distraction with their quirks than helpful, but that could be the Seeker in me. I need to listen to my bird to fly her, you know? Space combat was distracting enough as is. Didn’t help that my first skirmish I guess I sorta, y’know, screamed, the whole time. On accidental broadcast the first few minutes of fighting. My wingmates still laugh about it, I guess, but I wasn’t taken seriously as an Ace after that. Not until Bandomeer. Being shot down in the first time, was the scariest moment of my life. Feeling your engine peel from the hull, watching your wing disintegrate into the atmosphere. Holding on for dear life as the tailspin began. I had to reach deeply, and literally, to eject from the spinning wreckage. The view of the battle across the Great Coast in free-fall was… tremendous. Mortifying. An overwhelming image, and the Force quaked with urban warfare. I flew, and fell, as close to the nearest group of friendlies I could. A squad of Republic troopers and civilians that took up arms, with no Jedi, alone and surrounded. Then I landed, and ignited my lightsaber. I don’t know if it was bravery, adrenaline, or both, but I fought my hardest to protect those people behind me. That day, I earned my nickname. You’ve heard it, I’m sure. They called me… Indigo Wing. No? What? You’ve never heard of “Indigo Wing”? Really? C’mon man... Guess I know what you want to hear about then. The second time I was shot down. Never mind the steady acts of service after Bandomeer. No, let’s talk the day we lost Ithor. It’s what you really want. Outnumbered, outgunned and out maneuvered, our fleet managed to escape, but I wasn’t on board the carrier and was left behind. Stuck in a dogfight with some Sith until we shot one another out of the sky, I remember he was Sith cause he shot fire from his hands at me as we fell. Flightsuits can handle a lot, but I guess pyrokinetic infernos aren’t covered. I leaned into Ithor’s powerful presence in the Force to survive, and found myself in the jungle singed, clothes tattered, and soon surrounded by Imperial troops and Sith. I saw a pair of discarded blasters, leftover from the ground battle which had swept through the jungle. If I reached out I could get them, fight back, take some of them down before me and… that’s when it hit. The vision, from when I was a padawan. I was moments from falling to the dark side, and knew it. I wasn’t ready to die, but I was even less ready to fall. Instead, I placed my hands behind my head, knelt, and surrendered. I’ll never forget the look in the Sith Lady’s eyes as she sauntered towards me, with red lightsaber glowing and some sort of collar in her free hand. She watched my eyes as it was locked around my throat, and when the universe suddenly closed off to me. The collar was a Force suppression variant. All that life… snuffed at once. The shock left me dazed, breathless, and the lightsaber hilt knocked me out. I don’t remember much after that, think there was a bag over my head. I’d stir, and the soon familiar lightsaber hilt would knock me back out. The final time I awoke, the bag was gone, and I found myself crammed into some massive, cold cave with hundreds of others. They caught me up; Imperial Internment Mining Colony 77e-9b, that’s where we were. "Imsee 7". On paper it was exactly that, a ‘first step to joining the Empire’. More like an asteroid field prison somewhere in the ass-end of imp space. The Warden was Sith, used a lightsaber pike like a damn shepherd’s cane. If a shepherd liked to beat his brontos. Always so adamant that we stayed alive, with just enough food and water, but made sure our guards weren’t above putting us in our place. Cut off from the Force, constantly hungry and tired, it was hell. Could always tell the other Jedi among me, even if I couldn’t feel them. It wasn’t the collars that gave us away. It was the look in our eyes. A look I knew I had too. As mighty as Jedi are, we really are just… people… in the end. If I couldn’t be a Jedi in the way I was before being captured, I’d find a way to be Jedi after. The taskmasters loved to whip those who were too exhausted to work, prospecting the asteroid was the worst, but the lashing was torturous. I’ll never forget the old woman who first started to take a stand. Human, Jedi by her collar, and if you ask me too aged for the sort of work forced on her. She put herself in the way of a taskmaster and his victim, and that monster whipped her to death. The next prisoner to be abused, I put myself in the way. Was whipped until I lost consciousness. When it happened again, I put myself in the way, again. And again. And again. And... again. More Jedi joined. Dissent became more common. The taskmasters got crueler, and Jedi died protecting others. Clearly, I did not. Not literally, I guess. Eventually the other POW’s revolted, sabotaged the station’s reactor, and rioted for freedom. I was recovering when it happened, still bleeding from the last lashing. My fellow prisoners literally carried me out of our cell, up until they managed to get a key, and remove my collar. Have you ever felt the universe open to you, after being cut off, Healer? It bloomed from within, like a sunrise in heart and mind. Felt like a deep breath after holding it for years. Turns out I had, in a sense. Revived enough to help in the escape, I piloted a stolen shuttle, and with a few other ships escaped the colony as it exploded. Only a few dozen of us survived. Couldn’t remember any Republic fleet frequencies to send a message, so I sent one to my friend Gaeriel. My little flock of survivors were picked up by a Mon Cal cruiser when we exited Imperial space. It was the most beautiful ship I had ever seen. The kolto tanks on board even more beautiful. I was still being treated when the Peace of Prazhi was signed a couple weeks later. The war was over. All those years, and I was barely active for a year of it. All those years, “in incarceration”. * “... How are you now?” Well, between the kolto, meditation, and you Healers, I basically recovered fine. It took me a while to adjust to my renewed freedom. The Councils were kind enough to let me just do things my way, to let me heal at my own pace. Didn’t last long, Coruscant was… too loud for me. Still is actually. More than hearing it, you can feel the effect of the Battle. As much as I remember the Temple fondly, this place is different. I’m different. Still love the Order, but coming back here reminds me I’m still recovering from the war in a way. Feel like a lot of us are. That’s why I left so soon after my rescue. I needed to get back to what I did best. More than that, I needed get away from civilization, get my mind right again, reconnect with the galaxy, and myself. So I had an audience with the ExploreCorps Council, made a request for a deep rim excursion, and to my relief they approved. They hooked me up with one of those sweet Sabre transports and a remote droid, then I was off. Spent the past two years or so venturing galactic east, spinward under Hutt space. During my recovery I read a thesis from a promising young Jedi Scholar, on Xuaquarres of all things, and followed his theory into space. No, I didn’t find it, yet. But I did see a dragon. You don’t believe me, but there’s a reason I’m so eager to get back out there. Plus, you know, Coruscant. The only reason I’m not still out chasing Duinuogwuin, is the message y’all relayed to me: “Jedi Master Ono Bono has become one with the Force, and his pyre would be held in a week.” It’s been a week, and here I am, late and waiting to saying goodbye to the best person I’ve ever known. In a nutshell; I’m all fucked up. But if there’s one thing I’m learning, it’s that we’re all a little fucked up now. Luckily, we’re Jedi- and we always have one another, right? “And where are you going, Seeker Tallus” … Wherever the Force takes me, man. It’s a big galaxy. |
