Post by Otterling on Jan 25, 2010 22:06:12 GMT -5
Faction: Mandalorian Military
Department:Special Forces
Rank:Corporal
Name: Jahari Saad
Race: Iridonian/Zabrak
Age: 23
Height: 5’4”
Weight: 145 lbs
Appearance: Jahari is well muscled and lean from many years spent training. Her skin is pitch black as is her short cropped hair. She has bright orange eyes and seven curved ivory colored horns protrude from her forehead: two small ones on the outside, two medium sized ones just above her eyebrows, two more of the same size just above and slightly centered and one larger horn right in the middle. Thin bright orange tattoos decorate her face in swirling patterns which cover her cheeks, forehead, eyes and extend just below her jawline. She would be fairly beautiful if it weren’t for the harried and nervous look she always carries. Her eyes are usually ringed with heavy bags that makes it look like she hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time and she normally looks half terrified of something at all times. Her form is curvaceous however. She is usually seen in her Mandalorian armor or in pristine white cotton pants, a white tank top and white sneakers. She normally carries a small waist pouch when dressed in civilian clothing and is frequently seen wearing various cleaning supplies such as rubber gloves.
Armor
Jahari’s battle armor is based on the Neo-Crusader design with modifications made for the times. The base of the suit is a black, high weave, armor mesh suit fitted to Jahari’s form for maximum maneuverability. Thin beskar plating has been molded to mimic the form of muscle underneath and forms greaves, a chest plate, back plate, shin guards, shoulder pauldrons, thigh plates, and a fully enclosed helmet. The helmet has a heads up display integrated into it. The beskar has all been coated in a bright orange paint over which a thin layer of black has been applied. The result is that the orange only shows through under direct light, giving the effect of black armor with a fiery orange shine. The helmet is extremely organic, made of sweeping lines that give no impression of the face hidden underneath. The visor is a thin “T” shape that curls up at the sides and follows the sweeping lines of the rest of the design.
A short wave communications radio has been integrated into the helmet and the suit has a small built in interface which allows Jahari to monitor countdown times for bombs she has already activated. She wears an Aratech Screamer Jumper Jet Pack that has been painted to match her armor. Jahari has also integrated a small light array into her suit which she seldom shows to anyone else. Small bundles of fiber optic cabling have been woven along the seams and integrated along the natural contours of the suit in swirling designs that match those she bears on her face. These cables can be switched on through the heads up display to glow bright orange. The design serves no real function other than that she was bored and thought the design was pretty.
Weapons:
1 x Verpine Sniper Rifle with bi-pod
1 x SS5 Hold-out Blaster
2 x Mandalorian Heavy Blasters with Motion Sensitive Scope and removable power cell
2 x 12” retractable vibroshiv
1 x Class A Thermal Detonator
1 x Roll of Thermal Detonator Tape
6 x Physical/Sonic Concussion Grenades
2 x Sonic Concussion Grenade
1 x Time Bomb
3 x Flash bombs
Personality: Jahari is very OCD. She is a barely functional person in this respect and has a strict regimen that she follows with religious fervor day and night. She catalogs her underwear by color and is known for the frequent smell of cleaning supplies that comes out of her room. She is a very nervous person who tends to flinch at loud noises and she often will go for a few days without sleep if her routine is thrown off. She is incredibly intelligent however and is a good person to come to for tedious work as she enjoys it. She is also as socially awkward as a bulimic rancor. She has no concept of how to make friends and tends to be very quiet and reserved around those she does not know but is extremely loyal once a friendship has been established. While Jahari isn’t one to start a fight very often, once she’s in her armor, she holds no reservations about killing or destruction on a massive scale. Her OCD tendencies are suppressed when in her armor because she is in a sealed and self contained suit that keeps out the outside world. Outside of her suit though, Jahari will panic if touched. She cannot stand physical contact.
Due to her reclusive nature and her lack of any real socialization outside of her family, Jahari has a rather child-like view of the world. She takes enjoyment out of small simple things because her mind is usually working in overdrive on a normal basis so small and happy thoughts allow her to effectively switch off her neuroses for a while. She tends to flinch at loud noises due to all of her work with explosives coupled with her normal anxiety but still enjoys the sound of an explosion the way most people enjoy thrill rides.
Birth place: Iridonia/Wortan
Skills:Demolitions, Sniper’s Aim, Electronics Engineering
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 6
Intelligence: 8
Speed: 6
Leadership: 1
Unarmed: 7
Melee Weapons: 5
Ranged Weapons: 7
Alignment: 0
Bio:
Jahari was the second born child of Kuthka and Sepshet Saad. Her parents were fairly wealthy mercenaries whose torrid love affair had lasted since their early days doing assassination runs together. Kuthka had been born into a world of criminals in one of the underground sections before he made his way off world with the help of a Mandalorian he met there. The two became fast friends and Uncle Skocha, as the Mandalorian Rodian would later become known, remained close throughout young Jahari’s life. Her father and mother met when Kuthka returned to Irodia and made his way into the city proper. There, while trying to assassinate a rival, he found himself beat to the punch by a beautiful woman whom he fell for at first sight. Perhaps it had been the clean disembowelment of the victim or the way she slashed open his arm when he’d tried to detain her afterward but Kuthka knew he was in love. To say that their relationship was rocky at first would be an understatement but after a year of constant pursuit, Sepshet finally relented and decided a man who blew up an entire cantina just to get her attention couldn’t be all bad.
The duo hit it off famously and soon enough they had their own new bundle of joy. Their eldest child was a boy they named Hunan. He was bright, strong, and was the apple of his father’s eye. When Hunan was only three, Sepshet gave birth again, this time to Jahari. She was possessed of the black skin that ran in Sepshet’s side of the family and was well loved by both of her parents though their affection was anything but orthodox. Right from the start, it was evident that Jahari was incredibly intelligent but also a bit odd. As a child, she absorbed information from her tutors with a vigor that most children give to candy but had a tendency to alphabetize her toys and fold her laundry with a precision that bordered on obsessive. Her tutors assured her parents that it was simply the side effect of a very intelligent mind that was a little bored and that Jahari would grow out of it. Her father found it to be incredibly helpful as he would often take apart his various weapons and give the pieces to his daughter to clean. Her small fingers made sharp work of the various tiny parts and she seemed perfectly content to scrub them until they gleamed.
Jahari was a very active child as well, playing often with her brother while her parents were “away” but Hunan was stronger than her by far and always won any physical games. When it came to the mental, however, Jahari bested her brother time and again. Every now and then, Uncle Skocha would show up to visit and the children never thought much about the fact that he was usually bleeding during those visits and they weren’t allowed to go outside for a few days afterward. They took it in stride as well that they should answer any inquiries about their uncle with the simple phrases that they “don’t know who he is” and “he isn’t here” should anyone press but it never seemed out of place for them. Skocha was well loved and well received, his visits usually meaning that he would bring the children the gift of new books and new fighting lessons.
Jahari was taught from an early age to compete with other children using the martial art that all Iridonians learn and her mother encouraged her that if she wasn’t cheating, she wasn’t trying hard enough. Her uncle was also more than happy to instruct her and Hunan on the skills he had learned, stating that it was never too early to learn how to fight properly. Her parents were affectionate to an extent but were often gone for long stretches of time while the children were left with various nannies and “friends” of the family. Jahari spent the majority of her youth learning to fight and reading anything and everything that wasn’t bolted down. It was during this time that Jahari began to read medical books she would grab from her parent’s room where they had been kept on hand for patching up Skocha when he visited. The impressionable young girl began to realize with dawning horror exactly how many types of bacteria, fungus, disease, and germs were floating around every single day and on every surface in sight and the possibility horrified her. She began to imagine disease everywhere with the sort of hyper active imagination that only a child could possess but sadly mingled with the intelligence of a young prodigy.
Her need to clean started off innocently enough with the girl simply doing a lot of chores around the house but it gradually progressed as she began to wonder if she had truly done a good enough job of cleaning. What if her uncle showed up hurt and she hadn’t sterilized the sheets well enough? What if her father or mother were hurt? What if being sick made them slow or weak? Over time, Jahari began devolving into a complex series of neurotic behaviors that she needed to fulfill to get any sense of peace. Her natural tendency to be a very orderly and organized person had begun to bleed over into the need she had to protect her family from the horrors she would see in her parents’ health books. Her mother and father weren’t home often enough to see it as a problem and they often blew off her nanny’s worrying over it as being too coddling of the girl. They were certain that, like the strange need to organize everything, Jahari’s obsessive nature would calm as she became older. Her ability to still go out and practice fighting with her brother told them that she was perfectly healthy…regardless of how many times she bathed afterward.
This blissful existence lasted until four months before Jahari’s tenth birthday. The day would change everything for both her and her brother. Their uncle once again arrived on their door in the middle of the night bearing wounds and looking the worse for wear. He had been on a mission with the children’s parents but he did not bring them home with him. After a few days recovering, Skocha paid the nanny for her time, scooped up both children and took them with him when he left the planet. Jahari was excited for the opportunity to travel off world but both she and Hunan knew that something was wrong. Their parents had never taken them offworld before and Skocha was refusing to answer questions on them until he was sure they were safely away from any prying ears. Once the course had been laid into the hyperdrive, he finally broke the news to the children. Their parents had been trapped and killed during a Republic raid on an illegal spice shipping operation. The two had gone down fighting, Skocha reported with an air of obvious respect. He had taken it upon himself to care for their children now that they were gone.
Skocha had been raised as a Mandalorian and as such he held firm to their core values and beliefs. He adopted both children as his own in the ritual gai bal manda and began their teachings in the ways of the Mandalorian lifestyle. Hunan was already thirteen at that time, the age of adulthood for most Mandalorians, and so Skocha took him to get his facial tattoos to honor his family heritage. Both children were started right away into language lessons from their now adopted father so that they could know mando’a as was proper and their fighting lessons escalated considerably. Skocha was as tolerant as he could be with Jahari’s strange habits and after a few incidents involving hyperventilation and severe skin burns from too much scrubbing, he learned not to show affection through hugging or, indeed, any other form of physical contact until AFTER he had properly disinfected himself.
The family stayed together on Skocha’s ship, the Luminescent Pearl, and the children learned to adapt quickly to their uncle’s nomadic lifestyle. They seldom stayed in any place for longer than a year and so Jahari began to associate the ship itself as being the closest thing she had to a home. She cleaned it with a religious fervor that sometimes amused and sometimes worried her uncle while it only served to irritate her brother for the most part. Hunan was protective of his little sister however, a trait which Skocha highly encouraged, and he put up with her oddities with a long suffering patience. Skocha and Hunan would wait with bemused looks while Jahari would don her cleaning gear to properly disinfect them after the two went out for any extended period of time and Skocha’s armor had never been shinier or better kept than it was under Jahari’s care.
Jahari had taken the loss of her parents fairly hard and her anxiety issues only seemed to grow worse in the years after their passing. She fretted more than ever about the health and well-being of her uncle and her brother, convinced that they would die on her too if she wasn’t careful enough and she would wake screaming in the middle of the night from bad dreams. Her brother would find her furiously scrubbing floors or cleaning rooms after these night terrors and despite all his attempts to calm her, only working herself into exhaustion seemed to help. Hunan had simply taken to sitting with her and chatting whenever he would find her in those states but Skocha had begun to truly worry about the girl after she reached thirteen without any sign of the nervous condition lessening.
When Jahari reached the age of maturity, Skocha brought her to Nar Shaddaa to have her facial tattoos applied as a sign of adulthood in the same manner which her brother had undergone only three years prior. She was horrified at the idea of someone she didn’t know touching her face and talked the ear off of Skocha, Hunan and the tattoo artist about how many pathogens were in blood and how many germs could be lingering on the equipment, steadfastly refusing to have anything to do with the whole process. Three Vicadin, a lot of soothing words, a roll of electrical tape and six hours later the tattoos were completed and Jahari was carried back to the ship to sleep off the medication she’d been given. Her brother was tasked for the next few weeks with sticking close to his sister’s side to ensure that she didn’t inadvertently scrub the tattoos off while they were still healing seeing as Skocha had been banned from ever returning to that particular tattoo parlor again and all those involved were determined to never bear a repeat performance of that event.
The children continued their training in the fields of hand to hand combat, firearms, and, in Jahari’s case, electrical engineering. Skocha had brought home a few manuals in an attempt to fix a broken food processor and Jahari had read through them with a great deal of interest. She found the whole idea of electronics to be fascinating and it helped of course that the insides of most electronics were meant to be kept fairly sterile. After giving up on trying to get Jahari to give back his manuals, Skocha simply let her experiment with the processor, turning off the ship’s main circuits so she wouldn’t electrocute herself in the process. It took some fiddling but Jahari’s natural intelligence lent itself well to tinkering with small wires and her obsessive nature meant that she learned quickly to identify, catalogue and repair damaged components. She fixed the processor in short order and then set about “fixing” anything she could get her hands on. Her brother and uncle quickly realized this meant coming home to find Jahari half stuffed in a ceiling vent while she tried to fix their air conditioning for maximum flow.
Skocha decided by the time Jahari reached fifteen that she needed something to occupy her mind with that would require so much of her attention it wouldn’t give her time to worry over things. He called in a favor with a fellow Mandalorian named Zuza. Zuza was a Falleen who specialized in demolitions and explosives. His patient nature and discipline made him a perfect candidate to teach his craft to young Jahari and Skocha arranged for a meeting on the planet Kuras IV. The frigid landscape would help keep Jahari’s fear of germs under control while Zuza began her more in-depth training. Things began well enough at first with Zuza guiding his young protégé in the ways of arming and disarming bombs. The delicate work was something that fascinated Jahari just as Skocha had hoped but her fascination almost cost her the life of herself and her teacher on more than one occasion when she tried to double check a bomb she’d set instead of just throwing it.
Zuza refused to give up on her however since she proved an able and fast learner and he continued to throw more difficult problems her way to try and overcome the girl’s natural anxiousness by giving her mind more to think on. She worked her way through his storehouse of knowledge with a voracious appetite and he found her pleasant enough despite her strange habits. His technique seemed to work well and soon Jahari’s compulsions became more subdued and easier to deal with. The two years she spent on Kuras IV with her uncle, brother and teacher proved as happy as back on her home-world years before. She had a family, odd as it was, and she devoted herself to her uncle’s teaching of the Mandalorian ways, citing them as the reason for her current happiness.
Hunan, however, was often bored on Kuras IV and Skocha would take him on hunting trips, missions, and entertainment runs whenever he went offworld. Jahari was more than content to stick like glue to her teacher though and had no such interest in socializing. She found it awkward to talk to people and while she could chat all day long with Zuza about ordinance, she felt awkward and clumsy around him if the conversation strayed anywhere else. Her uncle had tried taking her with them on a short run to Nar Shaddaa once but she spent the majority of the night curled in on herself, second guessing every possible word she could say to the myriad strangers that surrounded her and after a particularly nasty fight with a cleaning maid over whether the bar they were seated at had indeed been regurgitated on recently and the steps taken to ensure proper hygene, Skocha was forced to admit defeat. He had faced a great deal of warriors in battle and had come out victorious but he simply could not seem to convince his adopted daughter to just relax.
By the end of her time training under Zuza’s care, Jahari was a competent explosives ordinance technician who had discovered her inner love of all things ‘boom’. She had also developed a severe crush on her older mentor which she was entirely uncertain how to deal with. Skocha knew his Falleen friend would never take advantage of the young girl in his care even though the interest was obvious considering how often both men caught Jahari staring at Zuza but the situation was made a little awkward since the girl had no clue how to deal with her obvious infatuation. She would follow Zuza around like a lost puppy but always found herself at a complete loss for words unless they were on the topic of grenades or computers. She pined for her lost chance when Zuza and Skocha finally parted ways and her room became lined with small holograms of Falleen men which she had downloaded from the holonet. Her brother simply rolled his eyes at the whole affair and told her she needed to find a proper boyfriend.
Once the family had left Kuras IV, they set off in search of beskar to use in the making of Hunan and Jahari’s armor. The time had come when both were children no longer and Skocha knew that they would need the protection a proper Mandalorian deserved. They spent a month and a half mining the ore they would need to create both sets of armor. Jahari had complained at first about digging around for it when it could just be bought but her uncle insisted that it would mean more and be more fitting if they dug the ore themselves. He pulled some strings and got them on with a small mining company who were searching for the same thing and, once a vein was found, arranged to allow the children to go mine what they needed by hand. Once they had procured enough ore, Hunan and Jahari set out with their uncle once more, this time to find a proper place to forge the armor they would most likely keep the rest of their lives. Both children spent the entirety of the trip working on different designs to find what suited them most while still incorporating the classic Neo-Crusader Armor design that had been popular among the Mandalorians for hundreds of years.
Jahari finally settled on a sleek organic look that mimicked the natural muscle underneath. The body suit was made of thick, watertight armor mesh onto which the beskar plates were then attached. She opted for a fully enclosed helmet and seemed to revel in the idea of a suit that she could wear which would keep the outside world and all its terrifying diseases at bay. She worked ceaselessly to get the armor just right and set a very strict schedule of forging that she felt would maximize the metal’s resistance and bring out its full potential. Her neuroses for once had worked in her favor as she folded and re-folded the metal until it was at the height of its strength. The tiresome work had left her too drained to worry over much, allowing her to sleep more soundly than she had in some time, and after a full six months of hard labor the suit was at last complete.
A few days after Jahari turned 18 and her brother turned 21, Skocha approached them with the plans for their next destination. Word had been spreading of a call to arms for all Mandalorians and the Resol’Nare demanded that they answer that call. Their brethren, scattered across the galaxy by the Republic, had begun once again to gather their strength in a bid to not only win their freedom but protect their heritage in the wake of the Betrayer’s so called treaty. Skocha agreed that his ‘children’ were now more than capable adults and the time had come for them to go forth and join in the fight. A Mandalorian named Cay Serven had begun to gather his people on their home planet of Mandalore and so it was there that Skocha brought his family. They took up residence on the outskirts of the refugee camp near Keldabe and straight away Hunan sought out those of like mindset who were ready to fight. He was young and eager to prove himself in battle and so he signed on quickly with a special operations group that was heading toward the Inner Rim on a mission. Jahari begged to go with him but the team had no need for a demolitions expert and so he bid her farewell and promised to stay in contact as often as possible.
Skocha also signed on with a group heading toward some of the other Outer Rim planets on a bid to recruit more to their cause. For Jahari, it felt as if her family was scattering to the four winds and she found herself feeling lost and confused. Her uncle had felt that she depended on them far too much and that she would only learn to interact with others if she didn’t have her family to hide behind. It was a heartbreaking moment for both when Skocha left but he felt in his heart that he was doing what was best for her and he encouraged her to seek out battle with one of the forces heading toward the Inner Rim. War had been declared on them now that the Republic knew that they were amassing forces once again and it would take the effort of every Mandalorian to save themselves and their way of life from extinction. Jahari signed on with the Mandalorian military, seeking out comfort in her loneliness the only way she knew how, by finding a group of people who had strict discipline and routines in which she could lose herself.
For the next few years after joining the military, Jahari moved listlessly from mission to mission, lending her skills wherever they were needed. She was never very close to anyone as most found her standoffish at best and a little bizarre at worst and her loneliness only served to enhance her anxiety even further. The highlights of her days became the occasional call she would get from her brother and uncle and the times in which she felt useful during battles. She proved herself more than able in a fight and her skill with electronics and explosives, as well as her ability with a rifle, made her a handy member in any team and so her command put up with Jahari’s strange fixation on boiling her armor after every excursion and cleaning her living quarters at all hours of the night. Her love of math and sharp intelligence made her an excellent shot, shooting being simply a matter of trajectories and distances after all, and she found she enjoyed that far more than hands on messy work that would leave her scrubbing brain matter out of the crevices in her suit for days afterward. Her superiors had long since decided that trying to give her any sort of leadership duties could only end in tears for all involved and so she made it to the rank of corporal and no further. She continues to sign on with any who will have her, moving zombie-like from one mission to the next as she waits for the day she can finally be reunited with her scattered family.
RP Sample:
Jahari sat perched on the edge of her bed, her eyes focused on one of the few personal possessions that decorated her tiny room. A small holographic Falleen man posed elegantly above the projector that housed him, his features outlined in glowing shades of blue. It was a spark of color in an otherwise non-descript room whose walls were painted a gleaming shade of white. The bed upon which she sat was perfectly made, its corners folded at impeccable 45 degree angles and its coverlet devoid of wrinkles. The floor upon which her bare feet rested was mopped and waxed to a high gloss shine, its dull gun metal grey standing out in sharp contrast to the walls, white bed sheets, white shelves, and white clothes of the room’s sole occupant. The room was conspicuously devoid of much in the way of personal belongings, most of them having been tucked away into labeled boxes that lined up beneath the bed. Only a smattering of trinkets stood on the shelves; the holopad, a few datapads that had been arranged alphabetically and chronologically according to the information they contained, a small hand held mirror with an ornate frame, a well organized toolbox and a communications device that was set exactly 3 inches from the end of the shelf with its base lined up symmetrically with the outside edge.
To most the room would seem a dreary place more suited to a hospital than to someone’s living quarters but Jahari preferred it that way. The less she had around the room, the less there was to keep nagging her when she was ready to go to sleep. The white helped her convince herself of the cleanliness all around her and she found that organizing what few belongings she owned into their properly aligned places would save her three minutes and 12 seconds each morning since she wouldn’t need to spend that time trying to fight down the twitch she’d get if they were off. As she sat there, staring at but not really seeing the Falleen hologram, her mind was running through the events of the day one more time. She had gotten up at her normal time of 05:20. Then she had bathed, washed her hair three times, gotten dressed and was at the chowhall for breakfast at 05:55. The chow hall opened at 06:00. They were late today. She knew better now than to say anything about it. It was best just to let such things go but it bothered her that they didn’t seem to realize that not opening when they SAID they were supposed to be open had cost her schedule a full 2 minutes today. If she messed up by two minutes, people could die. Bombs were unforgiving that way.
She’d gone to the weight room and worked out for two minutes less than normal just to make up the time but she figured it shouldn’t matter much. She hadn’t been on an assignment for days and there was no news yet of any new crew that had need for her skill set so she had a few days of down time. After her work out, she had polished her armor and then worked on a few random projects she’d had stowed in the neatly labeled box below her bed but now she had finished most of those or was at a point in them where she couldn’t proceed further without new parts. She could hear the occasional burst of laughter from the recreation room down the hall and part of her wanted very much to go see what they were doing but she knew how that would end. She’d wind up standing in the corner watching them while they cheered some game or talked about some rumor they’d heard. She’d yet to find anything worthwhile to discuss with them herself. She told herself it wasn’t worth it anyway. The floor in there was sticky in some places from spilled drink and the smell of various snacks always lingered in the air. She would wait until they went to bed tonight and perhaps she’d go clean it then. Just for a little while anyway.
Jahari slumped a little and stared down at her toes. She didn’t want to admit it, would never say anything to her teammates or, the Unifier forbid, someone in her chain of command but she had to admit that she was lonely. It had been three days since her last contact with her brother but he had been terribly busy and couldn’t talk long. She had no idea how long it would be till he’d call again. It bothered her to no end that he was out there somewhere, possibly hurt, possibly dying, or being subjected to horrible torture at the hands of the Republic and she would have no way of knowing. The fear of it sat in her stomach like a sour brick and she twiddled her fingers as a sudden need to re-catalogue her datapads arose. She had already created a full spreadsheet on every possession she owned but it couldn’t hurt to check it again. The laughter once again rose from down the hall as she slid to her feet and she looked longingly at the door for a moment before sighing and sinking to her knees to pull out the box labeled “Box 23: Datapads: E-Fa”.
Approval for the 6th character: Jace AND Rugs. XD
Password: Kylah
Department:Special Forces
Rank:Corporal
Name: Jahari Saad
Race: Iridonian/Zabrak
Age: 23
Height: 5’4”
Weight: 145 lbs
Appearance: Jahari is well muscled and lean from many years spent training. Her skin is pitch black as is her short cropped hair. She has bright orange eyes and seven curved ivory colored horns protrude from her forehead: two small ones on the outside, two medium sized ones just above her eyebrows, two more of the same size just above and slightly centered and one larger horn right in the middle. Thin bright orange tattoos decorate her face in swirling patterns which cover her cheeks, forehead, eyes and extend just below her jawline. She would be fairly beautiful if it weren’t for the harried and nervous look she always carries. Her eyes are usually ringed with heavy bags that makes it look like she hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time and she normally looks half terrified of something at all times. Her form is curvaceous however. She is usually seen in her Mandalorian armor or in pristine white cotton pants, a white tank top and white sneakers. She normally carries a small waist pouch when dressed in civilian clothing and is frequently seen wearing various cleaning supplies such as rubber gloves.
Armor
Jahari’s battle armor is based on the Neo-Crusader design with modifications made for the times. The base of the suit is a black, high weave, armor mesh suit fitted to Jahari’s form for maximum maneuverability. Thin beskar plating has been molded to mimic the form of muscle underneath and forms greaves, a chest plate, back plate, shin guards, shoulder pauldrons, thigh plates, and a fully enclosed helmet. The helmet has a heads up display integrated into it. The beskar has all been coated in a bright orange paint over which a thin layer of black has been applied. The result is that the orange only shows through under direct light, giving the effect of black armor with a fiery orange shine. The helmet is extremely organic, made of sweeping lines that give no impression of the face hidden underneath. The visor is a thin “T” shape that curls up at the sides and follows the sweeping lines of the rest of the design.
A short wave communications radio has been integrated into the helmet and the suit has a small built in interface which allows Jahari to monitor countdown times for bombs she has already activated. She wears an Aratech Screamer Jumper Jet Pack that has been painted to match her armor. Jahari has also integrated a small light array into her suit which she seldom shows to anyone else. Small bundles of fiber optic cabling have been woven along the seams and integrated along the natural contours of the suit in swirling designs that match those she bears on her face. These cables can be switched on through the heads up display to glow bright orange. The design serves no real function other than that she was bored and thought the design was pretty.
Weapons:
1 x Verpine Sniper Rifle with bi-pod
1 x SS5 Hold-out Blaster
2 x Mandalorian Heavy Blasters with Motion Sensitive Scope and removable power cell
2 x 12” retractable vibroshiv
1 x Class A Thermal Detonator
1 x Roll of Thermal Detonator Tape
6 x Physical/Sonic Concussion Grenades
2 x Sonic Concussion Grenade
1 x Time Bomb
3 x Flash bombs
Personality: Jahari is very OCD. She is a barely functional person in this respect and has a strict regimen that she follows with religious fervor day and night. She catalogs her underwear by color and is known for the frequent smell of cleaning supplies that comes out of her room. She is a very nervous person who tends to flinch at loud noises and she often will go for a few days without sleep if her routine is thrown off. She is incredibly intelligent however and is a good person to come to for tedious work as she enjoys it. She is also as socially awkward as a bulimic rancor. She has no concept of how to make friends and tends to be very quiet and reserved around those she does not know but is extremely loyal once a friendship has been established. While Jahari isn’t one to start a fight very often, once she’s in her armor, she holds no reservations about killing or destruction on a massive scale. Her OCD tendencies are suppressed when in her armor because she is in a sealed and self contained suit that keeps out the outside world. Outside of her suit though, Jahari will panic if touched. She cannot stand physical contact.
Due to her reclusive nature and her lack of any real socialization outside of her family, Jahari has a rather child-like view of the world. She takes enjoyment out of small simple things because her mind is usually working in overdrive on a normal basis so small and happy thoughts allow her to effectively switch off her neuroses for a while. She tends to flinch at loud noises due to all of her work with explosives coupled with her normal anxiety but still enjoys the sound of an explosion the way most people enjoy thrill rides.
Birth place: Iridonia/Wortan
Skills:Demolitions, Sniper’s Aim, Electronics Engineering
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 6
Intelligence: 8
Speed: 6
Leadership: 1
Unarmed: 7
Melee Weapons: 5
Ranged Weapons: 7
Alignment: 0
Bio:
The Formative Years – Birth to age 10:
Jahari was the second born child of Kuthka and Sepshet Saad. Her parents were fairly wealthy mercenaries whose torrid love affair had lasted since their early days doing assassination runs together. Kuthka had been born into a world of criminals in one of the underground sections before he made his way off world with the help of a Mandalorian he met there. The two became fast friends and Uncle Skocha, as the Mandalorian Rodian would later become known, remained close throughout young Jahari’s life. Her father and mother met when Kuthka returned to Irodia and made his way into the city proper. There, while trying to assassinate a rival, he found himself beat to the punch by a beautiful woman whom he fell for at first sight. Perhaps it had been the clean disembowelment of the victim or the way she slashed open his arm when he’d tried to detain her afterward but Kuthka knew he was in love. To say that their relationship was rocky at first would be an understatement but after a year of constant pursuit, Sepshet finally relented and decided a man who blew up an entire cantina just to get her attention couldn’t be all bad.
The duo hit it off famously and soon enough they had their own new bundle of joy. Their eldest child was a boy they named Hunan. He was bright, strong, and was the apple of his father’s eye. When Hunan was only three, Sepshet gave birth again, this time to Jahari. She was possessed of the black skin that ran in Sepshet’s side of the family and was well loved by both of her parents though their affection was anything but orthodox. Right from the start, it was evident that Jahari was incredibly intelligent but also a bit odd. As a child, she absorbed information from her tutors with a vigor that most children give to candy but had a tendency to alphabetize her toys and fold her laundry with a precision that bordered on obsessive. Her tutors assured her parents that it was simply the side effect of a very intelligent mind that was a little bored and that Jahari would grow out of it. Her father found it to be incredibly helpful as he would often take apart his various weapons and give the pieces to his daughter to clean. Her small fingers made sharp work of the various tiny parts and she seemed perfectly content to scrub them until they gleamed.
Jahari was a very active child as well, playing often with her brother while her parents were “away” but Hunan was stronger than her by far and always won any physical games. When it came to the mental, however, Jahari bested her brother time and again. Every now and then, Uncle Skocha would show up to visit and the children never thought much about the fact that he was usually bleeding during those visits and they weren’t allowed to go outside for a few days afterward. They took it in stride as well that they should answer any inquiries about their uncle with the simple phrases that they “don’t know who he is” and “he isn’t here” should anyone press but it never seemed out of place for them. Skocha was well loved and well received, his visits usually meaning that he would bring the children the gift of new books and new fighting lessons.
Jahari was taught from an early age to compete with other children using the martial art that all Iridonians learn and her mother encouraged her that if she wasn’t cheating, she wasn’t trying hard enough. Her uncle was also more than happy to instruct her and Hunan on the skills he had learned, stating that it was never too early to learn how to fight properly. Her parents were affectionate to an extent but were often gone for long stretches of time while the children were left with various nannies and “friends” of the family. Jahari spent the majority of her youth learning to fight and reading anything and everything that wasn’t bolted down. It was during this time that Jahari began to read medical books she would grab from her parent’s room where they had been kept on hand for patching up Skocha when he visited. The impressionable young girl began to realize with dawning horror exactly how many types of bacteria, fungus, disease, and germs were floating around every single day and on every surface in sight and the possibility horrified her. She began to imagine disease everywhere with the sort of hyper active imagination that only a child could possess but sadly mingled with the intelligence of a young prodigy.
Her need to clean started off innocently enough with the girl simply doing a lot of chores around the house but it gradually progressed as she began to wonder if she had truly done a good enough job of cleaning. What if her uncle showed up hurt and she hadn’t sterilized the sheets well enough? What if her father or mother were hurt? What if being sick made them slow or weak? Over time, Jahari began devolving into a complex series of neurotic behaviors that she needed to fulfill to get any sense of peace. Her natural tendency to be a very orderly and organized person had begun to bleed over into the need she had to protect her family from the horrors she would see in her parents’ health books. Her mother and father weren’t home often enough to see it as a problem and they often blew off her nanny’s worrying over it as being too coddling of the girl. They were certain that, like the strange need to organize everything, Jahari’s obsessive nature would calm as she became older. Her ability to still go out and practice fighting with her brother told them that she was perfectly healthy…regardless of how many times she bathed afterward.
This blissful existence lasted until four months before Jahari’s tenth birthday. The day would change everything for both her and her brother. Their uncle once again arrived on their door in the middle of the night bearing wounds and looking the worse for wear. He had been on a mission with the children’s parents but he did not bring them home with him. After a few days recovering, Skocha paid the nanny for her time, scooped up both children and took them with him when he left the planet. Jahari was excited for the opportunity to travel off world but both she and Hunan knew that something was wrong. Their parents had never taken them offworld before and Skocha was refusing to answer questions on them until he was sure they were safely away from any prying ears. Once the course had been laid into the hyperdrive, he finally broke the news to the children. Their parents had been trapped and killed during a Republic raid on an illegal spice shipping operation. The two had gone down fighting, Skocha reported with an air of obvious respect. He had taken it upon himself to care for their children now that they were gone.
Verd ori'shya beskar'gam: Ages 11 – 20
Skocha had been raised as a Mandalorian and as such he held firm to their core values and beliefs. He adopted both children as his own in the ritual gai bal manda and began their teachings in the ways of the Mandalorian lifestyle. Hunan was already thirteen at that time, the age of adulthood for most Mandalorians, and so Skocha took him to get his facial tattoos to honor his family heritage. Both children were started right away into language lessons from their now adopted father so that they could know mando’a as was proper and their fighting lessons escalated considerably. Skocha was as tolerant as he could be with Jahari’s strange habits and after a few incidents involving hyperventilation and severe skin burns from too much scrubbing, he learned not to show affection through hugging or, indeed, any other form of physical contact until AFTER he had properly disinfected himself.
The family stayed together on Skocha’s ship, the Luminescent Pearl, and the children learned to adapt quickly to their uncle’s nomadic lifestyle. They seldom stayed in any place for longer than a year and so Jahari began to associate the ship itself as being the closest thing she had to a home. She cleaned it with a religious fervor that sometimes amused and sometimes worried her uncle while it only served to irritate her brother for the most part. Hunan was protective of his little sister however, a trait which Skocha highly encouraged, and he put up with her oddities with a long suffering patience. Skocha and Hunan would wait with bemused looks while Jahari would don her cleaning gear to properly disinfect them after the two went out for any extended period of time and Skocha’s armor had never been shinier or better kept than it was under Jahari’s care.
Jahari had taken the loss of her parents fairly hard and her anxiety issues only seemed to grow worse in the years after their passing. She fretted more than ever about the health and well-being of her uncle and her brother, convinced that they would die on her too if she wasn’t careful enough and she would wake screaming in the middle of the night from bad dreams. Her brother would find her furiously scrubbing floors or cleaning rooms after these night terrors and despite all his attempts to calm her, only working herself into exhaustion seemed to help. Hunan had simply taken to sitting with her and chatting whenever he would find her in those states but Skocha had begun to truly worry about the girl after she reached thirteen without any sign of the nervous condition lessening.
When Jahari reached the age of maturity, Skocha brought her to Nar Shaddaa to have her facial tattoos applied as a sign of adulthood in the same manner which her brother had undergone only three years prior. She was horrified at the idea of someone she didn’t know touching her face and talked the ear off of Skocha, Hunan and the tattoo artist about how many pathogens were in blood and how many germs could be lingering on the equipment, steadfastly refusing to have anything to do with the whole process. Three Vicadin, a lot of soothing words, a roll of electrical tape and six hours later the tattoos were completed and Jahari was carried back to the ship to sleep off the medication she’d been given. Her brother was tasked for the next few weeks with sticking close to his sister’s side to ensure that she didn’t inadvertently scrub the tattoos off while they were still healing seeing as Skocha had been banned from ever returning to that particular tattoo parlor again and all those involved were determined to never bear a repeat performance of that event.
The children continued their training in the fields of hand to hand combat, firearms, and, in Jahari’s case, electrical engineering. Skocha had brought home a few manuals in an attempt to fix a broken food processor and Jahari had read through them with a great deal of interest. She found the whole idea of electronics to be fascinating and it helped of course that the insides of most electronics were meant to be kept fairly sterile. After giving up on trying to get Jahari to give back his manuals, Skocha simply let her experiment with the processor, turning off the ship’s main circuits so she wouldn’t electrocute herself in the process. It took some fiddling but Jahari’s natural intelligence lent itself well to tinkering with small wires and her obsessive nature meant that she learned quickly to identify, catalogue and repair damaged components. She fixed the processor in short order and then set about “fixing” anything she could get her hands on. Her brother and uncle quickly realized this meant coming home to find Jahari half stuffed in a ceiling vent while she tried to fix their air conditioning for maximum flow.
Skocha decided by the time Jahari reached fifteen that she needed something to occupy her mind with that would require so much of her attention it wouldn’t give her time to worry over things. He called in a favor with a fellow Mandalorian named Zuza. Zuza was a Falleen who specialized in demolitions and explosives. His patient nature and discipline made him a perfect candidate to teach his craft to young Jahari and Skocha arranged for a meeting on the planet Kuras IV. The frigid landscape would help keep Jahari’s fear of germs under control while Zuza began her more in-depth training. Things began well enough at first with Zuza guiding his young protégé in the ways of arming and disarming bombs. The delicate work was something that fascinated Jahari just as Skocha had hoped but her fascination almost cost her the life of herself and her teacher on more than one occasion when she tried to double check a bomb she’d set instead of just throwing it.
Zuza refused to give up on her however since she proved an able and fast learner and he continued to throw more difficult problems her way to try and overcome the girl’s natural anxiousness by giving her mind more to think on. She worked her way through his storehouse of knowledge with a voracious appetite and he found her pleasant enough despite her strange habits. His technique seemed to work well and soon Jahari’s compulsions became more subdued and easier to deal with. The two years she spent on Kuras IV with her uncle, brother and teacher proved as happy as back on her home-world years before. She had a family, odd as it was, and she devoted herself to her uncle’s teaching of the Mandalorian ways, citing them as the reason for her current happiness.
Hunan, however, was often bored on Kuras IV and Skocha would take him on hunting trips, missions, and entertainment runs whenever he went offworld. Jahari was more than content to stick like glue to her teacher though and had no such interest in socializing. She found it awkward to talk to people and while she could chat all day long with Zuza about ordinance, she felt awkward and clumsy around him if the conversation strayed anywhere else. Her uncle had tried taking her with them on a short run to Nar Shaddaa once but she spent the majority of the night curled in on herself, second guessing every possible word she could say to the myriad strangers that surrounded her and after a particularly nasty fight with a cleaning maid over whether the bar they were seated at had indeed been regurgitated on recently and the steps taken to ensure proper hygene, Skocha was forced to admit defeat. He had faced a great deal of warriors in battle and had come out victorious but he simply could not seem to convince his adopted daughter to just relax.
By the end of her time training under Zuza’s care, Jahari was a competent explosives ordinance technician who had discovered her inner love of all things ‘boom’. She had also developed a severe crush on her older mentor which she was entirely uncertain how to deal with. Skocha knew his Falleen friend would never take advantage of the young girl in his care even though the interest was obvious considering how often both men caught Jahari staring at Zuza but the situation was made a little awkward since the girl had no clue how to deal with her obvious infatuation. She would follow Zuza around like a lost puppy but always found herself at a complete loss for words unless they were on the topic of grenades or computers. She pined for her lost chance when Zuza and Skocha finally parted ways and her room became lined with small holograms of Falleen men which she had downloaded from the holonet. Her brother simply rolled his eyes at the whole affair and told her she needed to find a proper boyfriend.
Once the family had left Kuras IV, they set off in search of beskar to use in the making of Hunan and Jahari’s armor. The time had come when both were children no longer and Skocha knew that they would need the protection a proper Mandalorian deserved. They spent a month and a half mining the ore they would need to create both sets of armor. Jahari had complained at first about digging around for it when it could just be bought but her uncle insisted that it would mean more and be more fitting if they dug the ore themselves. He pulled some strings and got them on with a small mining company who were searching for the same thing and, once a vein was found, arranged to allow the children to go mine what they needed by hand. Once they had procured enough ore, Hunan and Jahari set out with their uncle once more, this time to find a proper place to forge the armor they would most likely keep the rest of their lives. Both children spent the entirety of the trip working on different designs to find what suited them most while still incorporating the classic Neo-Crusader Armor design that had been popular among the Mandalorians for hundreds of years.
Jahari finally settled on a sleek organic look that mimicked the natural muscle underneath. The body suit was made of thick, watertight armor mesh onto which the beskar plates were then attached. She opted for a fully enclosed helmet and seemed to revel in the idea of a suit that she could wear which would keep the outside world and all its terrifying diseases at bay. She worked ceaselessly to get the armor just right and set a very strict schedule of forging that she felt would maximize the metal’s resistance and bring out its full potential. Her neuroses for once had worked in her favor as she folded and re-folded the metal until it was at the height of its strength. The tiresome work had left her too drained to worry over much, allowing her to sleep more soundly than she had in some time, and after a full six months of hard labor the suit was at last complete.
A few days after Jahari turned 18 and her brother turned 21, Skocha approached them with the plans for their next destination. Word had been spreading of a call to arms for all Mandalorians and the Resol’Nare demanded that they answer that call. Their brethren, scattered across the galaxy by the Republic, had begun once again to gather their strength in a bid to not only win their freedom but protect their heritage in the wake of the Betrayer’s so called treaty. Skocha agreed that his ‘children’ were now more than capable adults and the time had come for them to go forth and join in the fight. A Mandalorian named Cay Serven had begun to gather his people on their home planet of Mandalore and so it was there that Skocha brought his family. They took up residence on the outskirts of the refugee camp near Keldabe and straight away Hunan sought out those of like mindset who were ready to fight. He was young and eager to prove himself in battle and so he signed on quickly with a special operations group that was heading toward the Inner Rim on a mission. Jahari begged to go with him but the team had no need for a demolitions expert and so he bid her farewell and promised to stay in contact as often as possible.
Skocha also signed on with a group heading toward some of the other Outer Rim planets on a bid to recruit more to their cause. For Jahari, it felt as if her family was scattering to the four winds and she found herself feeling lost and confused. Her uncle had felt that she depended on them far too much and that she would only learn to interact with others if she didn’t have her family to hide behind. It was a heartbreaking moment for both when Skocha left but he felt in his heart that he was doing what was best for her and he encouraged her to seek out battle with one of the forces heading toward the Inner Rim. War had been declared on them now that the Republic knew that they were amassing forces once again and it would take the effort of every Mandalorian to save themselves and their way of life from extinction. Jahari signed on with the Mandalorian military, seeking out comfort in her loneliness the only way she knew how, by finding a group of people who had strict discipline and routines in which she could lose herself.
An vencuyan mhi: Age 21 – Present
For the next few years after joining the military, Jahari moved listlessly from mission to mission, lending her skills wherever they were needed. She was never very close to anyone as most found her standoffish at best and a little bizarre at worst and her loneliness only served to enhance her anxiety even further. The highlights of her days became the occasional call she would get from her brother and uncle and the times in which she felt useful during battles. She proved herself more than able in a fight and her skill with electronics and explosives, as well as her ability with a rifle, made her a handy member in any team and so her command put up with Jahari’s strange fixation on boiling her armor after every excursion and cleaning her living quarters at all hours of the night. Her love of math and sharp intelligence made her an excellent shot, shooting being simply a matter of trajectories and distances after all, and she found she enjoyed that far more than hands on messy work that would leave her scrubbing brain matter out of the crevices in her suit for days afterward. Her superiors had long since decided that trying to give her any sort of leadership duties could only end in tears for all involved and so she made it to the rank of corporal and no further. She continues to sign on with any who will have her, moving zombie-like from one mission to the next as she waits for the day she can finally be reunited with her scattered family.
RP Sample:
Jahari sat perched on the edge of her bed, her eyes focused on one of the few personal possessions that decorated her tiny room. A small holographic Falleen man posed elegantly above the projector that housed him, his features outlined in glowing shades of blue. It was a spark of color in an otherwise non-descript room whose walls were painted a gleaming shade of white. The bed upon which she sat was perfectly made, its corners folded at impeccable 45 degree angles and its coverlet devoid of wrinkles. The floor upon which her bare feet rested was mopped and waxed to a high gloss shine, its dull gun metal grey standing out in sharp contrast to the walls, white bed sheets, white shelves, and white clothes of the room’s sole occupant. The room was conspicuously devoid of much in the way of personal belongings, most of them having been tucked away into labeled boxes that lined up beneath the bed. Only a smattering of trinkets stood on the shelves; the holopad, a few datapads that had been arranged alphabetically and chronologically according to the information they contained, a small hand held mirror with an ornate frame, a well organized toolbox and a communications device that was set exactly 3 inches from the end of the shelf with its base lined up symmetrically with the outside edge.
To most the room would seem a dreary place more suited to a hospital than to someone’s living quarters but Jahari preferred it that way. The less she had around the room, the less there was to keep nagging her when she was ready to go to sleep. The white helped her convince herself of the cleanliness all around her and she found that organizing what few belongings she owned into their properly aligned places would save her three minutes and 12 seconds each morning since she wouldn’t need to spend that time trying to fight down the twitch she’d get if they were off. As she sat there, staring at but not really seeing the Falleen hologram, her mind was running through the events of the day one more time. She had gotten up at her normal time of 05:20. Then she had bathed, washed her hair three times, gotten dressed and was at the chowhall for breakfast at 05:55. The chow hall opened at 06:00. They were late today. She knew better now than to say anything about it. It was best just to let such things go but it bothered her that they didn’t seem to realize that not opening when they SAID they were supposed to be open had cost her schedule a full 2 minutes today. If she messed up by two minutes, people could die. Bombs were unforgiving that way.
She’d gone to the weight room and worked out for two minutes less than normal just to make up the time but she figured it shouldn’t matter much. She hadn’t been on an assignment for days and there was no news yet of any new crew that had need for her skill set so she had a few days of down time. After her work out, she had polished her armor and then worked on a few random projects she’d had stowed in the neatly labeled box below her bed but now she had finished most of those or was at a point in them where she couldn’t proceed further without new parts. She could hear the occasional burst of laughter from the recreation room down the hall and part of her wanted very much to go see what they were doing but she knew how that would end. She’d wind up standing in the corner watching them while they cheered some game or talked about some rumor they’d heard. She’d yet to find anything worthwhile to discuss with them herself. She told herself it wasn’t worth it anyway. The floor in there was sticky in some places from spilled drink and the smell of various snacks always lingered in the air. She would wait until they went to bed tonight and perhaps she’d go clean it then. Just for a little while anyway.
Jahari slumped a little and stared down at her toes. She didn’t want to admit it, would never say anything to her teammates or, the Unifier forbid, someone in her chain of command but she had to admit that she was lonely. It had been three days since her last contact with her brother but he had been terribly busy and couldn’t talk long. She had no idea how long it would be till he’d call again. It bothered her to no end that he was out there somewhere, possibly hurt, possibly dying, or being subjected to horrible torture at the hands of the Republic and she would have no way of knowing. The fear of it sat in her stomach like a sour brick and she twiddled her fingers as a sudden need to re-catalogue her datapads arose. She had already created a full spreadsheet on every possession she owned but it couldn’t hurt to check it again. The laughter once again rose from down the hall as she slid to her feet and she looked longingly at the door for a moment before sighing and sinking to her knees to pull out the box labeled “Box 23: Datapads: E-Fa”.
Approval for the 6th character: Jace AND Rugs. XD
Password: Kylah
Hehe. I am MORE than happy to have some feedback to make this better so anything that ANYONE can contribute will be welcome. 
