Post by Darion on Mar 2, 2016 10:52:05 GMT -5
Name: Xeven Adratas
Race: Human
Age: 31
Birthplace: Coruscant
Allegiance: Me, Myself, And I
Status: Smugler/Slicer/Weapons maker
Rank: Smugler
Height/Weight: 5'8, 120 lbs
Appearance:
Xeven wears a short, dark grey coat that reaches just above his waist. The coat is lightweight and has a hood attached to it. He normally wears a dark colored undershirt underneath the jacket. Xeven often wears baggy dark grey pants with a mottled camouflage like pattern. Along with this he wears he wears boots tipped with Durasteel with the added feature of vibro knives embedded into the toes of his boots as a surprise attack option. His black hair is often cropped short and he often has a small amount of stubble. The only exception is when he has a razor handy, in which cases he often shaves for a more "civilized" look. Xeven has a small faded scar under his chin. Xeven's gray eyes are often described as hunted, always flickering left and right analyzing everything in sight.
Personality:
Xeven thinks of himself as a survivalist...just without the survivors guilt. He has no qualms about dropping others over the side of buildings if it'll keep him alive at the end of the day. He does however enjoy helping underdogs because in his book "It's worth seeing the bigger guy humiliated". True to his survivalist attitude, nothing he picks up, steals, or scavenges is considered useless. Xeven tends to follow the, better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it rule when it comes to items. Always finding ways of sticking them together and making something new..not always safe to handle, but new nonetheless. He enjoys creating things and hacking into secure systems due to the mental challenges they give him. While physically not a fighter, Xeven has no issue feeding the occasional idiot their teeth.
Xeven's main goal in life is to smuggle things, get rich, make money, and maybe blow up a building or five. He enjoys a good lie or deception, often referring to lying as an art. He often likes to think that lies are only lies until they become the truth. While he is mostly untrustworthy, Xeven will buy, sell, and deal with anyone. Although he has a peculiar dislike of Rodians, he will never turn down an opportunity to make money, or blow something up.
He rarely speaks up or voices his opinions and when he does, they're usually sarcastic remarks. Xeven has a dry sense of humor and appreciates anyone who can make him chuckle even slightly. He enjoys new people and places but has a "slight" tendency for kleptomaniac practices.
On that note, beware of combat puns, as he feels they must be made in every situation.
Ships/Vehicles:
None
Equipment:
Blaster Pistol x1
Throwing Knives X3
Vibro Dagger(Not for throwing) X1
Slicing Kit x1
Durasteel knife boots x2
Retractable Vibrodagger gauntlets x2
Stats:
Strength - Average
Agility - Above Average
Intelligence - Average
Charisma - Average
Combat Training:
Home Brew Martial Arts: Expert
Blaster Pistols: Adept
Knife Throwing: Adept
Knife fighting: Adept
Explosives: Apprentice
Other Training:
Slicing: Expert
Home brew Weapons making: Adept
Lying: Adept
Parkour/Acrobatics: Adept
Basic: Fluent
Biography:
Your privilege is the dirt
1-14
Xeven was born on coruscant to, well, the scum of society. His mother was dealing drugs and his father was either drunk or operating as a slicer for a small back street gang. Xeven, knowing nothing other than crime, stealing and hiding, quickly joined a gang of his own. He spent his childhood and most of his teen years operating as a runner and a slicer. Although running was his favorite past time. In the dense city scape of Coruscant he became a master of free running through the city streets and along the rooftops of building, occasionally jumping onto the roofs of passing speeders to make a get away from the local authorities. His slicing skill improved to the point where he could break into just about any non military facility or any minor bank account.
Due to his gangs small size, he ended up using his intellect and whatever raw material was available to creat a myriad of makeshift weapons and explosives. While somewhat dangerous to the user or prone to malfunctioning, it kept his gang operating and the success of the jobs done with these make shift tools generated enough income for them to buy a few "real" weapons.
All's fair in war and..well, war.
14-19
Over the course of several years and numerous heists and other nefarious dealings, Xeven had unconsciously scraped together his own unique fighting style. The most prominent thing about Xeven's fighting style was its use of acrobatics and well aimed kicks and punches to disorient and then knock down opponents. Rarely used to kill, it was more a deterrent for anyone who decided following him would be a good idea. He continued to hone his free running and smuggling, often slicing into secure networks and selling the information he found to the highest bidder. Around the time he reached the tender age of 19, Xeven began to study explosives from a close friend. Soon after he became well versed in blowing things sky high, his petty crime turned into borderline terrorism. Selling his explosives or planting them himself for those who could pay, he quickly made his way onto the coruscanti wanted list.
There are no winners, only criminals
19-29
During this period of Xeven's life, he spent his time in and out of jail and gangs while honing his skills. He continued to create weapons and deal in illegal goods and explosives. Managing to stay one step ahead of the local police most of the time, he made a name for himself in the larger crime syndicates. Eventually that name became to brew trouble for Xeven.
Run Xeven Ruun!
29-31
Xeven began to get into the deep end of crime in his later years. His dealings of illegal goods and information had gotten him and his family in trouble. His mother was currently in jail and his father had disappeared a year prior, taken by rival gangs attempting to silence Xeven. Coruscant started getting too small for Xeven's liking, as the various gangs and crime lords began to attempt to kill Xeven with more zeal. Xeven, outnumbered and outgunned did the only thing he knew best. He ran.
Resistance, Rebellions, Blockades oh my!
Current
Now, after running from the Coruscanti gangs a while back, he ended up stowing away on an unmarked ship heading for the outer rim. Sadly, he gravely miscalculated his destination and the ship exited hyper space near the repressed planet Dantooine. Needless to say, the sith blockade surrounding the planet did not appreciate the unannounced guest. The ship sustained massive damage and somehow made it through the atmosphere of Dantooine before crashing into the plains.
After several days of scavenging for food and asking for directions from some scared looking farmers, Xeven reached the outskirts of the capitol city. Tell tale signs of fighting and rebellion were small, but noticeable. Wanting to get the hell out of the sith infested planet, Xeven knew he needed help, and firepower. After spending several weeks dodging sith agents sent to investigate the crash sight and any non native citizens. He finally met up with the DLA vicariously through a good friend, after he had spent the last of his cash getting said friend drunk. He now fights to liberate Dantooine, and by proxy, leave for greener pastures.
Roleplay Sample:
The shouts of several gang members and crime lords echoed through the undercity of Coruscant. Soon after shouts of "There he is, catch him you useless scum!" And the telltale sound of blaster fire echoed through the various alleyways. Xeven, already on his way to the shipyard was free running across the undercity determined to escape his captors. Coming up upon a bridge spanning an open space of hover craft lanes, another gang stood between him and freedom, blocking off the bride. Outflanked but not out maneuvered, Xeven rolled his eyes and looked to the side of the bridge, a transport headed to the spaceport had just closed its doors and was preparing to take off.
Xeven sprinted forward and jumped sideways at the last second, using his trajectory and momentum to first grab onto the transport and then swing himself up onto the roof. The craft lurched forward and Xeven flattened himself to the roof to avoid blaster fire and from being blown off as the craft picked up speed. Now that he had escaped them, he just needed to get off the planet. The transport finally reached its destination as Xevren jumped off onto the walkway. Running out of time and places to go he had to find a ship, and fast. Finding a small and dingy looking cargo vessel he decided it was better than nothing. Just as he was about to run for the vessel, the engines started and the cargo bay door began closing. Sprinting once again toward the airborne vehicle he jumped onto an array of crates and then jumped one again, barely managing to grab the bay door. Hauling himself up, he gained a brief glimpse of various gangs arriving at the space port either beginning fights with each other or sneaking around to try and find him. Allowing himself a wry smile before slumping back onto one of the crates he sighed. Glad to finally be free of the den of thieves, at least for a while.
Race: Human
Age: 31
Birthplace: Coruscant
Allegiance: Me, Myself, And I
Status: Smugler/Slicer/Weapons maker
Rank: Smugler
Height/Weight: 5'8, 120 lbs
Appearance:
Xeven wears a short, dark grey coat that reaches just above his waist. The coat is lightweight and has a hood attached to it. He normally wears a dark colored undershirt underneath the jacket. Xeven often wears baggy dark grey pants with a mottled camouflage like pattern. Along with this he wears he wears boots tipped with Durasteel with the added feature of vibro knives embedded into the toes of his boots as a surprise attack option. His black hair is often cropped short and he often has a small amount of stubble. The only exception is when he has a razor handy, in which cases he often shaves for a more "civilized" look. Xeven has a small faded scar under his chin. Xeven's gray eyes are often described as hunted, always flickering left and right analyzing everything in sight.
Personality:
Xeven thinks of himself as a survivalist...just without the survivors guilt. He has no qualms about dropping others over the side of buildings if it'll keep him alive at the end of the day. He does however enjoy helping underdogs because in his book "It's worth seeing the bigger guy humiliated". True to his survivalist attitude, nothing he picks up, steals, or scavenges is considered useless. Xeven tends to follow the, better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it rule when it comes to items. Always finding ways of sticking them together and making something new..not always safe to handle, but new nonetheless. He enjoys creating things and hacking into secure systems due to the mental challenges they give him. While physically not a fighter, Xeven has no issue feeding the occasional idiot their teeth.
Xeven's main goal in life is to smuggle things, get rich, make money, and maybe blow up a building or five. He enjoys a good lie or deception, often referring to lying as an art. He often likes to think that lies are only lies until they become the truth. While he is mostly untrustworthy, Xeven will buy, sell, and deal with anyone. Although he has a peculiar dislike of Rodians, he will never turn down an opportunity to make money, or blow something up.
He rarely speaks up or voices his opinions and when he does, they're usually sarcastic remarks. Xeven has a dry sense of humor and appreciates anyone who can make him chuckle even slightly. He enjoys new people and places but has a "slight" tendency for kleptomaniac practices.
On that note, beware of combat puns, as he feels they must be made in every situation.
Ships/Vehicles:
None
Equipment:
Blaster Pistol x1
Throwing Knives X3
Vibro Dagger(Not for throwing) X1
Slicing Kit x1
Durasteel knife boots x2
Retractable Vibrodagger gauntlets x2
Stats:
Strength - Average
Agility - Above Average
Intelligence - Average
Charisma - Average
Combat Training:
Home Brew Martial Arts: Expert
Blaster Pistols: Adept
Knife Throwing: Adept
Knife fighting: Adept
Explosives: Apprentice
Other Training:
Slicing: Expert
Home brew Weapons making: Adept
Lying: Adept
Parkour/Acrobatics: Adept
Basic: Fluent
Biography:
Your privilege is the dirt
1-14
Xeven was born on coruscant to, well, the scum of society. His mother was dealing drugs and his father was either drunk or operating as a slicer for a small back street gang. Xeven, knowing nothing other than crime, stealing and hiding, quickly joined a gang of his own. He spent his childhood and most of his teen years operating as a runner and a slicer. Although running was his favorite past time. In the dense city scape of Coruscant he became a master of free running through the city streets and along the rooftops of building, occasionally jumping onto the roofs of passing speeders to make a get away from the local authorities. His slicing skill improved to the point where he could break into just about any non military facility or any minor bank account.
Due to his gangs small size, he ended up using his intellect and whatever raw material was available to creat a myriad of makeshift weapons and explosives. While somewhat dangerous to the user or prone to malfunctioning, it kept his gang operating and the success of the jobs done with these make shift tools generated enough income for them to buy a few "real" weapons.
All's fair in war and..well, war.
14-19
Over the course of several years and numerous heists and other nefarious dealings, Xeven had unconsciously scraped together his own unique fighting style. The most prominent thing about Xeven's fighting style was its use of acrobatics and well aimed kicks and punches to disorient and then knock down opponents. Rarely used to kill, it was more a deterrent for anyone who decided following him would be a good idea. He continued to hone his free running and smuggling, often slicing into secure networks and selling the information he found to the highest bidder. Around the time he reached the tender age of 19, Xeven began to study explosives from a close friend. Soon after he became well versed in blowing things sky high, his petty crime turned into borderline terrorism. Selling his explosives or planting them himself for those who could pay, he quickly made his way onto the coruscanti wanted list.
There are no winners, only criminals
19-29
During this period of Xeven's life, he spent his time in and out of jail and gangs while honing his skills. He continued to create weapons and deal in illegal goods and explosives. Managing to stay one step ahead of the local police most of the time, he made a name for himself in the larger crime syndicates. Eventually that name became to brew trouble for Xeven.
Run Xeven Ruun!
29-31
Xeven began to get into the deep end of crime in his later years. His dealings of illegal goods and information had gotten him and his family in trouble. His mother was currently in jail and his father had disappeared a year prior, taken by rival gangs attempting to silence Xeven. Coruscant started getting too small for Xeven's liking, as the various gangs and crime lords began to attempt to kill Xeven with more zeal. Xeven, outnumbered and outgunned did the only thing he knew best. He ran.
Resistance, Rebellions, Blockades oh my!
Current
Now, after running from the Coruscanti gangs a while back, he ended up stowing away on an unmarked ship heading for the outer rim. Sadly, he gravely miscalculated his destination and the ship exited hyper space near the repressed planet Dantooine. Needless to say, the sith blockade surrounding the planet did not appreciate the unannounced guest. The ship sustained massive damage and somehow made it through the atmosphere of Dantooine before crashing into the plains.
After several days of scavenging for food and asking for directions from some scared looking farmers, Xeven reached the outskirts of the capitol city. Tell tale signs of fighting and rebellion were small, but noticeable. Wanting to get the hell out of the sith infested planet, Xeven knew he needed help, and firepower. After spending several weeks dodging sith agents sent to investigate the crash sight and any non native citizens. He finally met up with the DLA vicariously through a good friend, after he had spent the last of his cash getting said friend drunk. He now fights to liberate Dantooine, and by proxy, leave for greener pastures.
Roleplay Sample:
The shouts of several gang members and crime lords echoed through the undercity of Coruscant. Soon after shouts of "There he is, catch him you useless scum!" And the telltale sound of blaster fire echoed through the various alleyways. Xeven, already on his way to the shipyard was free running across the undercity determined to escape his captors. Coming up upon a bridge spanning an open space of hover craft lanes, another gang stood between him and freedom, blocking off the bride. Outflanked but not out maneuvered, Xeven rolled his eyes and looked to the side of the bridge, a transport headed to the spaceport had just closed its doors and was preparing to take off.
Xeven sprinted forward and jumped sideways at the last second, using his trajectory and momentum to first grab onto the transport and then swing himself up onto the roof. The craft lurched forward and Xeven flattened himself to the roof to avoid blaster fire and from being blown off as the craft picked up speed. Now that he had escaped them, he just needed to get off the planet. The transport finally reached its destination as Xevren jumped off onto the walkway. Running out of time and places to go he had to find a ship, and fast. Finding a small and dingy looking cargo vessel he decided it was better than nothing. Just as he was about to run for the vessel, the engines started and the cargo bay door began closing. Sprinting once again toward the airborne vehicle he jumped onto an array of crates and then jumped one again, barely managing to grab the bay door. Hauling himself up, he gained a brief glimpse of various gangs arriving at the space port either beginning fights with each other or sneaking around to try and find him. Allowing himself a wry smile before slumping back onto one of the crates he sighed. Glad to finally be free of the den of thieves, at least for a while.
