Post by hammerhead on Jul 25, 2014 20:29:58 GMT -5
Name: Vict Cahob
Race: Human
Age: 23
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 200 lbs.
Appearance:
Note that when he's not wearing the mask, Vict is often lounging in his robes. He has flowing red hair (tied back in a ponytail for the mask), soft blue eyes, and a thin goatee on his chin.
Even at ease, Vict appears to be on guard, stoic and solid. Vict's motions are careful and precise. Everything he does is a predetermined, evaluated, logical action. Even in combat, he merely increases the speed and viciousness of his near-surgical precision.
Personality: Vict's personality has the illusion of being twofold. Without the mask, he is tranquil, cordial, and even friendly at times. He has a sort of cold side to him, but is altogether calm, level-headed, easy to be with. He could pass as a professor or an author or a diplomat or even a politician if he so chooses to.
Of course, to the unfamiliar, it would seem that he changes when he puts on the mask, becoming a vicious beast. But to those who know him well enough, Vict is simply being calculating, applying brutality where he sees fit. What looks like random, malicious violence is actually a careful and surgical dissection of his enemy, figuratively and literally. His violence is furious and sadistic, yet it is every bit as calculated and precise as his unmasked actions.
From an ideological perspective, Vict is a classic authoritarian. He respects order and discipline. Indeed, while hardly a leader, he sees himself as an enforcer, looking for a higher power to fight for.
Birth place: Republic City, Coruscant
Faction: Sith
Rank: Initiate
Previous Faction: Dark Jedi
Previous Rank: Knight
Lightsaber: Single Blade
Color: Red
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho 5
Makashi 2
Ataru 3
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telekinetic: 6
Telepathic: 3
Body: 5
Sense: 4
Protection: 2
Healing: 1
Destruction: 6
Specialized Skills: Force Crush (Pending moderator approval, will be explained in bio)
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 6
Intelligence: 7 (Pending moderator approval, will be explained in bio)
Speed: 5
Leadership: 1
Unarmed: 6
Melee Weapons: 5
Ranged Weapons: 0
Bio: [Since the last one was lost, this'll be reduced to notes until I flesh it out]
Vict was born into poverty, being the son of a part-time shopkeep on the lowest levels of Coruscant. Born and raised in the slums, he was part of the invisible caste of sentients: not even the Jedi often visited this level of the planet. Perhaps if they had, Vict would have been entered into their order and become a great Jedi. But they overlooked him just as they did the rest, and for their folly, a powerful agent of the dark side was created.
Vict's early childhood was extremely conservative. His father saved as much money as he could, even working a second job as a hired hand for a local criminal cartel to help his son have a better life than him. His father was a hard-working and stern man, a traditional patriarch of the small family. He was always working, either at the shop or elsewhere, even at home he invested all his time and effort into keeping his small condo in tip-top condition for his wife and son. He was never cruel with his discipline, but never lax either. Of course, rather than resent his father, Vict admired his strength and discipline.
When he was only five, Vict's father sent him away to a fairly respectable boarding school on the upper levels. Despite his impoverished background, Vict dodged the bullies in the easiest way: he simply didn't socialize with the other students. Dismissing their fun and games as decadent and nonsensical, Vict elected to spend time at first in the library, and later on in the gym, studying and working out. For him, running and playing was nowhere near as fun as learning and exercising. Productivity was the only joy he accepted. To the teachers, he was a model student. His refusal to socialize was worried, but his marks were virtually prodigal.
Of course, the success of his youth was never destined to last. At age 12, he took the first step on his road to darkness. Another student, much larger and more aggressive than him, noticed Raziel's high grades. Cornering him after class, he made his ultimatum: Vict would allow him to copy his test answers, or he would receive a beating. Of course, Vict refused, only to be jumped by the bully and his friends. He spent the next day in the library considering the situation. He came to a simple conclusion: The upstart must be disposed of. He began reading up on the martial arts. The next night, while the bully was alone, Vict sneaked up on him and applied a rear naked choke, slowly squeezing the life out of him before throwing his body over the edge of his level into the undercity below. The disappearance and eventual murder was never publicly solved, but the bully's friends learned a valuable lesson: Vict was not to be messed with.
Of course, what goes around comes around. Vict came home for his vacation that year to find his parents dead and his house ransacked, a consequence of gangland violence. Unable to return to school due to no money for tuition, Vict gave up on his education to instead pursue vengeance. Taking advantage of how non-threatening a child looked, he proceeded to kidnap, torture, interrogate, and execute anyone who may have had something to do with the murder. Soon, he discovered his connection with the force: simply through sheer malicious willpower, he could crush people's limbs and snap their bones in two. Before he even knew what the Sith were, he had already started on their path.
With his family avenged, Vict struggled to find a purpose in life. This came in the form of an old dusty tome, a forgotten curio in an old book store. The book held all sorts of secrets, forbidden wisdom extolling the virtues of the dark side of the force. It criticized the weakness of the jedi and called for a stronger, more powerful group to impose order upon the galaxy. Indeed, it was a life-changing read for Vict. He found a new purpose in life: to embrace his power and help bring order to a chaotic galaxy. Selling his victim's belongings, he purchased a stolen padawan's lightsaber, and set off to travel the galaxy to grow his powers.
Vict spent the next ten years of his life taking ferry to ferry across the galaxy, searching for lost wisdom relating to the dark side. Throughout this period he skimmed old texts and databanks for means of learning to channel his mental strength with the force, and wield a lightsaber with skill. The information and data he found helped him grow immensely in power, but not in character. Indeed, without a mentor to guide him, Vict fell to the dark side faster and faster. It was not long before his greed for knowledge and his casual disposition to violence lead him to outright murdering anyone who dared stand between him and more power.
Vict was sixteen when he first came to Upekzar, hoping to discover the lost library of fallen Jedi Detsom Engang-Var, hidden in the tropical planet's volcanic rim. Instead, he came across an abandoned temple, Engang-Var's tomb. Breaking into the temple, he found it to be guarded via a carefully complex puzzle. Although it took hours of observation, analysis, and research, Vict eventually made it through to the main tomb. Again, through careful study and precision, he cracked the locked door to enter, and found more than what he was looking for. Left for whoever was worthy to find it was a robe and mask, both tainted with the dark side. But more importantly there was a book of lost wisdom, the first fully-intact one he'd ever found. This was in invaluable use to Vict.
While it took one month's worth of linguistics study, cross-referencing it with other fragments in his possession and with resources available on the holonet, Vict finally began to translate the book. Using the available information, he began to build himself a new lightsaber, crafting much of it from his old stolen one and the rear end of a local snake for a hilt. From there, he went to Bonadan, using easily accessible geological compressors to forge himself the necessary sythetic red crystals. His lightsaber ready, he continued to translate the book, moving onto the art of combat. He began to expand his style beyond the rudimentary Shii-Cho, learning more about combat.
With this breakthrough, he spent several more years touring the galaxy, building a small collection of scrolls and manuscripts, slowly working on translating lost texts and avoiding the attention of the Jedi, who he grew to despise as weaklings interested in holding up the chaotic, degenerate disorder of the galaxy rather than impose true balance and stability. The outbreak of war between the Republic and the Sith Empire hardly earned his attention, nor did the supposed rise of a Sith Order. He was interested in building his budding collection, nothing else.
Six years after his departure, he returned to Upekzar, again seeking Engang-Var's library. This time, however, he came with a map, encrypted in a seemingly nonsensical rambling of Engang-Var's stolen from an art museum. Although he found his library, there had been a complication: someone else found and looted it before him. Enraged, Vict began to mercilessly hunt down the galaxy's many treasure hunters and archivists, torturing them until they could tell him who got to his prize first. After a year's worth of hunting, Vict finally got his answer: the Order of the Sith. Seeking answers, he left for Korriban, curious to see what wisdom these Sith had for him...
RP Sample:
No one would ever think a spaceport in Bonadan to be deserted, yet even the most diligent spacer still had to sleep. This one port was nearly abandoned, barring a few droids doing remote maintenance. Vict paid no mind to them, he had taken the liberty of monitoring them earlier to ensure they weren't security droids. In fact, security was expected to be lax at this hour of night: the schedule called for lighter measures. Indeed, Vict had watched the spaceport, making sure everything would be nice and safe for him. Planning and foresight were his specialty. He smirked as he walked down the hall, past the various light transports. Tonight was his big night.
The ship he had selected was a nice, tiny courier. Reading the manifest revealed that it only had one pilot, yet room for a passenger. But most importantly, the tiny little ship had an extremely advanced navagation computer, which is why Vict deemed it necessary. To make matters easier, the pilot slept in the ship at night to avoid spending money on a hotel. And if that wasn't enough, he was a smuggler, someone the local authorities would hardly care about.
Vict took a deep breath as he strode up to the ship's airlock. He recalled the access combination the pilot had put in earlier, when Vict was watching him. A simple numeric sequence... Yes, that was it. He typed it in and the door slid open. Rather lax security, really. Vict was never really sure as to why a ship would have an external means of opening the airlock. He decided he would have to research it at some point. Maybe take the ship's schematics for some light reading on the journey.
As he stepped inside, he sealed the door behind him. To his left, empty stowage, no doubt to be filled with spice later. Down the hall was a bathroom, and past that... There, the pilot was fast asleep in his bed. He was an Iridonian male, a young upstart to be sure. Certainly headstrong. And best of all, like most smugglers, he was stupid. Clever, perhaps, but clever could still mean stupid. Certainly anyone who didn't notice his ship's doors opening was stupid, that was for sure.
Vict stood there, waiting for the pilot to wake up. Regrettably, he was out like a light. Still, there were ways to handle that. He walked past the pilot, into the lounge behind him, a small room with a couch and a holoprojector. He sat down and took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes as he focused on the pilot's arm hanging limply off the side of the bed. He raised his hand, imagining small serpents shooting out from it, their sharp fangs latching into the flight suit. He focused and slowed his breathing, bringing the imaginary teeth deep into the arm. Then, in a sudden, decisive moment, he moved his hand back, yanking the body off the bed. Before the pilot could properly come to, Vict pulled the imaginary serpents back, feeling the force as he dragged him, now yelling in surprise, into the lounge.
"Ah, Captain Koren. Glad to see you're awake," he said, calmly. "This is your ship, am I correct? You are Captain Koren?" The zabrak stuttered in shock, and Vict rolled his eyes. He focused again, using the force to give him a quick slap across the face. "Please do speak when spoken to, I can only do so much damage before you're useless to me."
"Y-y-yes... Th-this is my ship..." Vict smiled as he made himself comfortable on the couch. The fear dripping from the man was delicious.
"Well then, Captain Koren, you're going to do me a little favor. See, I know about this ship, and that you use it to run through nebulas all the time, where pirates and police can't find you. Is that correct?" He could feel he didn't have Koren's focus, so he slapped him again. "I said, is that correct?"
"Yes!"
"Good, good, please pay attention when I'm talking." He continued. "Anyway, you'll be doing me a favor, flying me through a certain nebula to reach a planet for me. I'd ask if you could do that, but I honestly care nothing as to if you consent or not." The smuggler stood up. Vict could tell he was going to try and run. He smiled maliciously. This was his favorite part. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply again, focusing on Koren's left lower leg. He envisioned a serpent, slowly gripping it, wrapping his body around the leg. It was a large beast, with a large, muscular body.
He opened his eyes, and the serpent squeezed.
Koren fell to the ground, howling in pain. The bone had shattered entirely, already in poor shape due to a terrible diet on Koren's part. "You and I are both well aware you don't need your legs to fly a ship, my dear Captain Koren," Vict said with a smirk. He reached out again with the force to drag Koren into the cockpit with him. Vict sat himself down in the copilot seat, and let Koren go by the pilot's.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME?" he screamed, tears rolling down his eyes.
"I thought I explained myself earlier, didn't I? Should I break your other leg as well? Get in the pilot seat and start prepping us for takeoff." Koren complied, still sobbing in pain. Vict shook his head. To think, he was considering letting the imbecile live after this. So much for mercy.
"Where-where do you want me to take you?" Koren asked.
Vict smiled. "We'll be going through the Stygian Caldera." He nodded as Koren's face went blank in horror. "That's right. I want to go to Korriban."
Race: Human
Age: 23
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 200 lbs.
Appearance:
Note that when he's not wearing the mask, Vict is often lounging in his robes. He has flowing red hair (tied back in a ponytail for the mask), soft blue eyes, and a thin goatee on his chin.
Even at ease, Vict appears to be on guard, stoic and solid. Vict's motions are careful and precise. Everything he does is a predetermined, evaluated, logical action. Even in combat, he merely increases the speed and viciousness of his near-surgical precision.
Personality: Vict's personality has the illusion of being twofold. Without the mask, he is tranquil, cordial, and even friendly at times. He has a sort of cold side to him, but is altogether calm, level-headed, easy to be with. He could pass as a professor or an author or a diplomat or even a politician if he so chooses to.
Of course, to the unfamiliar, it would seem that he changes when he puts on the mask, becoming a vicious beast. But to those who know him well enough, Vict is simply being calculating, applying brutality where he sees fit. What looks like random, malicious violence is actually a careful and surgical dissection of his enemy, figuratively and literally. His violence is furious and sadistic, yet it is every bit as calculated and precise as his unmasked actions.
From an ideological perspective, Vict is a classic authoritarian. He respects order and discipline. Indeed, while hardly a leader, he sees himself as an enforcer, looking for a higher power to fight for.
Birth place: Republic City, Coruscant
Faction: Sith
Rank: Initiate
Previous Faction: Dark Jedi
Previous Rank: Knight
Lightsaber: Single Blade
Color: Red
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho 5
Makashi 2
Ataru 3
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telekinetic: 6
Telepathic: 3
Body: 5
Sense: 4
Protection: 2
Healing: 1
Destruction: 6
Specialized Skills: Force Crush (Pending moderator approval, will be explained in bio)
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 6
Intelligence: 7 (Pending moderator approval, will be explained in bio)
Speed: 5
Leadership: 1
Unarmed: 6
Melee Weapons: 5
Ranged Weapons: 0
Bio: [Since the last one was lost, this'll be reduced to notes until I flesh it out]
Vict was born into poverty, being the son of a part-time shopkeep on the lowest levels of Coruscant. Born and raised in the slums, he was part of the invisible caste of sentients: not even the Jedi often visited this level of the planet. Perhaps if they had, Vict would have been entered into their order and become a great Jedi. But they overlooked him just as they did the rest, and for their folly, a powerful agent of the dark side was created.
Vict's early childhood was extremely conservative. His father saved as much money as he could, even working a second job as a hired hand for a local criminal cartel to help his son have a better life than him. His father was a hard-working and stern man, a traditional patriarch of the small family. He was always working, either at the shop or elsewhere, even at home he invested all his time and effort into keeping his small condo in tip-top condition for his wife and son. He was never cruel with his discipline, but never lax either. Of course, rather than resent his father, Vict admired his strength and discipline.
When he was only five, Vict's father sent him away to a fairly respectable boarding school on the upper levels. Despite his impoverished background, Vict dodged the bullies in the easiest way: he simply didn't socialize with the other students. Dismissing their fun and games as decadent and nonsensical, Vict elected to spend time at first in the library, and later on in the gym, studying and working out. For him, running and playing was nowhere near as fun as learning and exercising. Productivity was the only joy he accepted. To the teachers, he was a model student. His refusal to socialize was worried, but his marks were virtually prodigal.
Of course, the success of his youth was never destined to last. At age 12, he took the first step on his road to darkness. Another student, much larger and more aggressive than him, noticed Raziel's high grades. Cornering him after class, he made his ultimatum: Vict would allow him to copy his test answers, or he would receive a beating. Of course, Vict refused, only to be jumped by the bully and his friends. He spent the next day in the library considering the situation. He came to a simple conclusion: The upstart must be disposed of. He began reading up on the martial arts. The next night, while the bully was alone, Vict sneaked up on him and applied a rear naked choke, slowly squeezing the life out of him before throwing his body over the edge of his level into the undercity below. The disappearance and eventual murder was never publicly solved, but the bully's friends learned a valuable lesson: Vict was not to be messed with.
Of course, what goes around comes around. Vict came home for his vacation that year to find his parents dead and his house ransacked, a consequence of gangland violence. Unable to return to school due to no money for tuition, Vict gave up on his education to instead pursue vengeance. Taking advantage of how non-threatening a child looked, he proceeded to kidnap, torture, interrogate, and execute anyone who may have had something to do with the murder. Soon, he discovered his connection with the force: simply through sheer malicious willpower, he could crush people's limbs and snap their bones in two. Before he even knew what the Sith were, he had already started on their path.
With his family avenged, Vict struggled to find a purpose in life. This came in the form of an old dusty tome, a forgotten curio in an old book store. The book held all sorts of secrets, forbidden wisdom extolling the virtues of the dark side of the force. It criticized the weakness of the jedi and called for a stronger, more powerful group to impose order upon the galaxy. Indeed, it was a life-changing read for Vict. He found a new purpose in life: to embrace his power and help bring order to a chaotic galaxy. Selling his victim's belongings, he purchased a stolen padawan's lightsaber, and set off to travel the galaxy to grow his powers.
Vict spent the next ten years of his life taking ferry to ferry across the galaxy, searching for lost wisdom relating to the dark side. Throughout this period he skimmed old texts and databanks for means of learning to channel his mental strength with the force, and wield a lightsaber with skill. The information and data he found helped him grow immensely in power, but not in character. Indeed, without a mentor to guide him, Vict fell to the dark side faster and faster. It was not long before his greed for knowledge and his casual disposition to violence lead him to outright murdering anyone who dared stand between him and more power.
Vict was sixteen when he first came to Upekzar, hoping to discover the lost library of fallen Jedi Detsom Engang-Var, hidden in the tropical planet's volcanic rim. Instead, he came across an abandoned temple, Engang-Var's tomb. Breaking into the temple, he found it to be guarded via a carefully complex puzzle. Although it took hours of observation, analysis, and research, Vict eventually made it through to the main tomb. Again, through careful study and precision, he cracked the locked door to enter, and found more than what he was looking for. Left for whoever was worthy to find it was a robe and mask, both tainted with the dark side. But more importantly there was a book of lost wisdom, the first fully-intact one he'd ever found. This was in invaluable use to Vict.
While it took one month's worth of linguistics study, cross-referencing it with other fragments in his possession and with resources available on the holonet, Vict finally began to translate the book. Using the available information, he began to build himself a new lightsaber, crafting much of it from his old stolen one and the rear end of a local snake for a hilt. From there, he went to Bonadan, using easily accessible geological compressors to forge himself the necessary sythetic red crystals. His lightsaber ready, he continued to translate the book, moving onto the art of combat. He began to expand his style beyond the rudimentary Shii-Cho, learning more about combat.
With this breakthrough, he spent several more years touring the galaxy, building a small collection of scrolls and manuscripts, slowly working on translating lost texts and avoiding the attention of the Jedi, who he grew to despise as weaklings interested in holding up the chaotic, degenerate disorder of the galaxy rather than impose true balance and stability. The outbreak of war between the Republic and the Sith Empire hardly earned his attention, nor did the supposed rise of a Sith Order. He was interested in building his budding collection, nothing else.
Six years after his departure, he returned to Upekzar, again seeking Engang-Var's library. This time, however, he came with a map, encrypted in a seemingly nonsensical rambling of Engang-Var's stolen from an art museum. Although he found his library, there had been a complication: someone else found and looted it before him. Enraged, Vict began to mercilessly hunt down the galaxy's many treasure hunters and archivists, torturing them until they could tell him who got to his prize first. After a year's worth of hunting, Vict finally got his answer: the Order of the Sith. Seeking answers, he left for Korriban, curious to see what wisdom these Sith had for him...
RP Sample:
No one would ever think a spaceport in Bonadan to be deserted, yet even the most diligent spacer still had to sleep. This one port was nearly abandoned, barring a few droids doing remote maintenance. Vict paid no mind to them, he had taken the liberty of monitoring them earlier to ensure they weren't security droids. In fact, security was expected to be lax at this hour of night: the schedule called for lighter measures. Indeed, Vict had watched the spaceport, making sure everything would be nice and safe for him. Planning and foresight were his specialty. He smirked as he walked down the hall, past the various light transports. Tonight was his big night.
The ship he had selected was a nice, tiny courier. Reading the manifest revealed that it only had one pilot, yet room for a passenger. But most importantly, the tiny little ship had an extremely advanced navagation computer, which is why Vict deemed it necessary. To make matters easier, the pilot slept in the ship at night to avoid spending money on a hotel. And if that wasn't enough, he was a smuggler, someone the local authorities would hardly care about.
Vict took a deep breath as he strode up to the ship's airlock. He recalled the access combination the pilot had put in earlier, when Vict was watching him. A simple numeric sequence... Yes, that was it. He typed it in and the door slid open. Rather lax security, really. Vict was never really sure as to why a ship would have an external means of opening the airlock. He decided he would have to research it at some point. Maybe take the ship's schematics for some light reading on the journey.
As he stepped inside, he sealed the door behind him. To his left, empty stowage, no doubt to be filled with spice later. Down the hall was a bathroom, and past that... There, the pilot was fast asleep in his bed. He was an Iridonian male, a young upstart to be sure. Certainly headstrong. And best of all, like most smugglers, he was stupid. Clever, perhaps, but clever could still mean stupid. Certainly anyone who didn't notice his ship's doors opening was stupid, that was for sure.
Vict stood there, waiting for the pilot to wake up. Regrettably, he was out like a light. Still, there were ways to handle that. He walked past the pilot, into the lounge behind him, a small room with a couch and a holoprojector. He sat down and took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes as he focused on the pilot's arm hanging limply off the side of the bed. He raised his hand, imagining small serpents shooting out from it, their sharp fangs latching into the flight suit. He focused and slowed his breathing, bringing the imaginary teeth deep into the arm. Then, in a sudden, decisive moment, he moved his hand back, yanking the body off the bed. Before the pilot could properly come to, Vict pulled the imaginary serpents back, feeling the force as he dragged him, now yelling in surprise, into the lounge.
"Ah, Captain Koren. Glad to see you're awake," he said, calmly. "This is your ship, am I correct? You are Captain Koren?" The zabrak stuttered in shock, and Vict rolled his eyes. He focused again, using the force to give him a quick slap across the face. "Please do speak when spoken to, I can only do so much damage before you're useless to me."
"Y-y-yes... Th-this is my ship..." Vict smiled as he made himself comfortable on the couch. The fear dripping from the man was delicious.
"Well then, Captain Koren, you're going to do me a little favor. See, I know about this ship, and that you use it to run through nebulas all the time, where pirates and police can't find you. Is that correct?" He could feel he didn't have Koren's focus, so he slapped him again. "I said, is that correct?"
"Yes!"
"Good, good, please pay attention when I'm talking." He continued. "Anyway, you'll be doing me a favor, flying me through a certain nebula to reach a planet for me. I'd ask if you could do that, but I honestly care nothing as to if you consent or not." The smuggler stood up. Vict could tell he was going to try and run. He smiled maliciously. This was his favorite part. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply again, focusing on Koren's left lower leg. He envisioned a serpent, slowly gripping it, wrapping his body around the leg. It was a large beast, with a large, muscular body.
He opened his eyes, and the serpent squeezed.
Koren fell to the ground, howling in pain. The bone had shattered entirely, already in poor shape due to a terrible diet on Koren's part. "You and I are both well aware you don't need your legs to fly a ship, my dear Captain Koren," Vict said with a smirk. He reached out again with the force to drag Koren into the cockpit with him. Vict sat himself down in the copilot seat, and let Koren go by the pilot's.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME?" he screamed, tears rolling down his eyes.
"I thought I explained myself earlier, didn't I? Should I break your other leg as well? Get in the pilot seat and start prepping us for takeoff." Koren complied, still sobbing in pain. Vict shook his head. To think, he was considering letting the imbecile live after this. So much for mercy.
"Where-where do you want me to take you?" Koren asked.
Vict smiled. "We'll be going through the Stygian Caldera." He nodded as Koren's face went blank in horror. "That's right. I want to go to Korriban."
