Post by Grumpy Panda on Sept 3, 2014 23:07:07 GMT -5
Name:Vit'ibbo'nunto "Tibbon"
Race:Chiss/wroonian hybrid
Age:25
Height:6"
Weight:200
Appearance:Taller than the average and muscular, Tibbon was a striking sight with his physique let alone his sapphire skin and black hair. Being part Wroonian, his eyes were a dark shade of orange rather than the bright red normally exhibited. For clothing, he wore plated armor with a traditional robe with a black and white pattern. While some thought his style of dress was a bit too flashy, Tibbon felt the pattern helped play on light and shadow patterns.
Personality:Reserved and dutiful, Tibbon was happy to take on missions and successfully complete them. His lack of social aptitude made him a poor choice for meeting with politicians, but his dedication made him a worthwhile guard. While he was able to fill leadership roles, he much preferred to be a lone wolf if not providing his skills as a guardian for an ambassador meeting.
He was often found practicing his saber technique or reading books. While he was not raised on Csillia like most chiss, he still did not trust emotions as the often meant a lack of control. Tibbon had a desire to keep control of himself and the world around him. Change was something he could accept, but not quickly adapt to.
When it came to combat, Tibbon preferred to overwhelm his opponents with force. When it came to debates, he was often stubborn. Although holding some risky flaws, he did believe in logic and order. He would often help citizens in tough situations then disappear to avoid prolonged contact. He saw it as a way to diminish negative emotions as well as create some order.
Birth place:Pantolomin
Faction: Jedi
Rank:Knight
Lightsaber:
Color: Ice
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho - 5
Makashi - 0
Soresu - 5
Ataru - 0
Shien / Djem So - 4
>>Sub-form Backhanded - 0
Niman - 0
>>Sub-form Jar-kai, or Dual Wield - 0
Juyo - 0
Double Bladed Combat - 0
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telekinetic: 6
Telepathic: 2
Body: 6
Sense: 4
Protection: 5
Healing: 3
Destruction: 0
Specialized Skills:
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 7
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 4
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 5
Melee Weapons: 5
Ranged Weapons: 3
Bio:
RP Sample:
The sweet smell of strong drink sauntered through the air as the robed figure sat down in the tavern that drew all sorts of patrons from the lower levels of coruscant. Life was different here compared to the sun kissed spires of the upper level. Light only shown down through cluttered cargo lanes highlighting a haze of exhaust and the dust covered floors belied the manner of things. Jedi didn’t dare delve to these depths nor did most of the security forces. Peace was kept by militias and armed bouncers aligning themselves to the highest bidder.
Loud music and tight space threatened to irk Tibbon as he analyzed the crowd searching for a specific target. He fiddled with his communicator determined to complete this mission. This club was the oasis of the underworld. Scantily clad females dance on stages while money was thrown at them. Some patrons ignited drunken brawls that were quickly squelched by the armed guards. For some, this was the high life.
A barmaid stopped at his table while attempting to not be pulled into brawls or dances. She had more clothing than the dancers but not much. Her pink skin glistened from what looked like glitter and body oil. Her hair was styled to reach down her back and her body would have made even the most ascetic of masters blush. The rumors were true, Zeltros produced stunning women.
“I’m sorry for your wait, sir. We are a bit busy today. What can I get for you?”
“Rum. I don’t care what kind.”
“I’m sorry, sir. We had a large group of privateers come by and take what we had in store. We aren’t expecting another shipment until next week.”
“The rum is always gone. Fine, then. What would you suggest?”
The Zeltron lady eyed him cautiously then curiously with a smile. “You seem like a strong man. You want something hearty. You also seem to be very well kept which would hint you enjoy some of the finer things in life. We have a limited edition Arkanian Sweet Milk.”
“I will try it.” The lady nodded and walked away to get the drink. Tibbon continued to eye the patrons. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He was looking for a particular person, Semba Kris. He was an elusive man, but data indicated he often stopped at this tavern for refreshments when he wasn’t doing his line of work.
The zeltron woman returned with the drink. She noticed the sapphire blue man eyeing the crowd. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Semba Kris.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Kris is a very busy man.”
“It’s ok, he should be expecting me.” The lady motioned for Tibbon to follow. She led him through the crowds to a private suite of the tavern. The atmosphere changed from lust fueled frenzy to arrogance and danger. The patrons wealthy enough to afford the private area were potential threats. Very rarely did one become rich in the lower city by honest work. It was a dog eat dog world and then men in this room were at the apex.
At the end of the hall was a set of double doors. They opened into a rounded room. In the center sat Semba Kris, the man of the hour. He enjoyed a drink while waving away the barmaid as Tibbon sat at his table. “I don’t remember having any business with a milk drinker. In fact, I don’t remember having any business today at all. Give me a good reason not to kill you.”
Tibbon took a sip of his drink while pressing the silent alarm on his communicator before speaking. Hopefully the security forces would arrive quickly. “Relax, Mr. Kris. I am merely a businessman. I’ve heard you are quite the person to learn from. So I was hoping we could exchange some information.”
“How do I know you’re not a competitor? I have no reason to trust you.” Kris was on edge. Tibbon didn’t have too much cover and had to play his story well. Even as a skilled jedi, he was outnumbered and outgunned. He pulled out his datapad and began to display various artistic pieces and relics.
“I deal in rare arts and relics. Most merely misplaced by former owners. Some required force. Now, Mr. Kris, I believe you were telling me about your business.” Tibbon was hoping to avoid using mind tricks, but this wasn’t an investigation. This was a sting operation. Semba Kris was already guilty, but the police forces wanted a more peaceful resolution. Some days things don’t go as planned.
Race:Chiss/wroonian hybrid
Age:25
Height:6"
Weight:200
Appearance:Taller than the average and muscular, Tibbon was a striking sight with his physique let alone his sapphire skin and black hair. Being part Wroonian, his eyes were a dark shade of orange rather than the bright red normally exhibited. For clothing, he wore plated armor with a traditional robe with a black and white pattern. While some thought his style of dress was a bit too flashy, Tibbon felt the pattern helped play on light and shadow patterns.
Personality:Reserved and dutiful, Tibbon was happy to take on missions and successfully complete them. His lack of social aptitude made him a poor choice for meeting with politicians, but his dedication made him a worthwhile guard. While he was able to fill leadership roles, he much preferred to be a lone wolf if not providing his skills as a guardian for an ambassador meeting.
He was often found practicing his saber technique or reading books. While he was not raised on Csillia like most chiss, he still did not trust emotions as the often meant a lack of control. Tibbon had a desire to keep control of himself and the world around him. Change was something he could accept, but not quickly adapt to.
When it came to combat, Tibbon preferred to overwhelm his opponents with force. When it came to debates, he was often stubborn. Although holding some risky flaws, he did believe in logic and order. He would often help citizens in tough situations then disappear to avoid prolonged contact. He saw it as a way to diminish negative emotions as well as create some order.
Birth place:Pantolomin
Faction: Jedi
Rank:Knight
Lightsaber:
Color: Ice
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho - 5
Makashi - 0
Soresu - 5
Ataru - 0
Shien / Djem So - 4
>>Sub-form Backhanded - 0
Niman - 0
>>Sub-form Jar-kai, or Dual Wield - 0
Juyo - 0
Double Bladed Combat - 0
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telekinetic: 6
Telepathic: 2
Body: 6
Sense: 4
Protection: 5
Healing: 3
Destruction: 0
Specialized Skills:
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 7
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 4
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 5
Melee Weapons: 5
Ranged Weapons: 3
Bio:
RP Sample:
The sweet smell of strong drink sauntered through the air as the robed figure sat down in the tavern that drew all sorts of patrons from the lower levels of coruscant. Life was different here compared to the sun kissed spires of the upper level. Light only shown down through cluttered cargo lanes highlighting a haze of exhaust and the dust covered floors belied the manner of things. Jedi didn’t dare delve to these depths nor did most of the security forces. Peace was kept by militias and armed bouncers aligning themselves to the highest bidder.
Loud music and tight space threatened to irk Tibbon as he analyzed the crowd searching for a specific target. He fiddled with his communicator determined to complete this mission. This club was the oasis of the underworld. Scantily clad females dance on stages while money was thrown at them. Some patrons ignited drunken brawls that were quickly squelched by the armed guards. For some, this was the high life.
A barmaid stopped at his table while attempting to not be pulled into brawls or dances. She had more clothing than the dancers but not much. Her pink skin glistened from what looked like glitter and body oil. Her hair was styled to reach down her back and her body would have made even the most ascetic of masters blush. The rumors were true, Zeltros produced stunning women.
“I’m sorry for your wait, sir. We are a bit busy today. What can I get for you?”
“Rum. I don’t care what kind.”
“I’m sorry, sir. We had a large group of privateers come by and take what we had in store. We aren’t expecting another shipment until next week.”
“The rum is always gone. Fine, then. What would you suggest?”
The Zeltron lady eyed him cautiously then curiously with a smile. “You seem like a strong man. You want something hearty. You also seem to be very well kept which would hint you enjoy some of the finer things in life. We have a limited edition Arkanian Sweet Milk.”
“I will try it.” The lady nodded and walked away to get the drink. Tibbon continued to eye the patrons. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He was looking for a particular person, Semba Kris. He was an elusive man, but data indicated he often stopped at this tavern for refreshments when he wasn’t doing his line of work.
The zeltron woman returned with the drink. She noticed the sapphire blue man eyeing the crowd. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Semba Kris.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Kris is a very busy man.”
“It’s ok, he should be expecting me.” The lady motioned for Tibbon to follow. She led him through the crowds to a private suite of the tavern. The atmosphere changed from lust fueled frenzy to arrogance and danger. The patrons wealthy enough to afford the private area were potential threats. Very rarely did one become rich in the lower city by honest work. It was a dog eat dog world and then men in this room were at the apex.
At the end of the hall was a set of double doors. They opened into a rounded room. In the center sat Semba Kris, the man of the hour. He enjoyed a drink while waving away the barmaid as Tibbon sat at his table. “I don’t remember having any business with a milk drinker. In fact, I don’t remember having any business today at all. Give me a good reason not to kill you.”
Tibbon took a sip of his drink while pressing the silent alarm on his communicator before speaking. Hopefully the security forces would arrive quickly. “Relax, Mr. Kris. I am merely a businessman. I’ve heard you are quite the person to learn from. So I was hoping we could exchange some information.”
“How do I know you’re not a competitor? I have no reason to trust you.” Kris was on edge. Tibbon didn’t have too much cover and had to play his story well. Even as a skilled jedi, he was outnumbered and outgunned. He pulled out his datapad and began to display various artistic pieces and relics.
“I deal in rare arts and relics. Most merely misplaced by former owners. Some required force. Now, Mr. Kris, I believe you were telling me about your business.” Tibbon was hoping to avoid using mind tricks, but this wasn’t an investigation. This was a sting operation. Semba Kris was already guilty, but the police forces wanted a more peaceful resolution. Some days things don’t go as planned.
