Post by denizen on May 4, 2022 17:38:12 GMT -5
 Full Name: Roy Artan Duranger Race: Zeltron / Human Age: 40 Gender: Male Sexuality: Pansexual Birthplace: Duranger's Pride, Outer Rim (3640 BBY) Languages: Galactic Basic, Huttese Faction: Fringe, Shelter Corps Status: Merc / Bounty Hunter / Smuggler Rank: Expert Height: 6'1'' Weight: 180 lbs Complexion: Fair Build: Athletic, Slender Hair: Auburn Eyes: Hazel Distinctive Features: Scars, Facial Tattoos, Red Armor Equipment: Spacer Fatigues, Titanium/Plastoid Armor, Twin A-180 Blaster Pistols, Throwing Vibroknives, Short Vibroblade, Electro Dusters, Personal Shield Generator, Flashstun Grenades, Whipcord Launcher, Bolas, Holdout Blaster, Weapon Attachments, Multi-Tool Appearance Roy is a ruggedly handsome man with a slender almost lanky build, fair complexion (thanks to his Human side), and a collection of tattoos. Roy has ruddy brown hair cut short like a soldier and bright hazel eyes. The Fringer prides himself on his Corellian sense of fashion, choosing stylish yet practical outfits suitable for a mercenary gunslinger. This apparel is made of Gundark leather and durable synthetical materials, providing him some measure of protection from the trouble he inevitably gets himself mixed up with. Roy also regularly equips a breastplate, left pauldron, bracers, cuisse, and greaves made from titanium and reinforced with a (dark carmine red) plastoid coating. Personality Profile Roy Duranger is an amiable sort, witty, and wickedly quick on the draw. Confident and cool headed, Roy exudes a nonchalant and unassuming aura that generally makes him seem innately trustworthy and non-threatening. Duranger uses his proficiency as a gunslinger, tech specialist, and rogue capable of moving about undetected to operate as a vigilante, mercenary, bounty hunter, and smuggler. Roy's actions are typically altruistically driven, but he's also prone to take an ends-justifies-the-means approach, especially when pressed for a solution. Roy is an introvert but a socially adept one. Yes, the Fringer enjoys the company of others but needs solitude to recharge. This sometimes confuses people, making them think that something is wrong, and that Roy is pulling away for some mysterious reason. Roy has a small group of friends to whom he is fiercely loyal, and he makes sure to check in on them regularly. While he is happy to make new friends this is not a priority for him, and thus the Fringer is perfectly content to keep things on a friendly but casual level with most people. Roy tries to keep things as above-board as possible, but he is not terribly fond of explaining himself or playing by somebody else's rules. To him lies and misdirections are a necessary if less desirable tool at his disposal. Duranger has a strong moral compass despite his occupations, as he is sensitive to situations in which a person's rights and wellbeing are being violated. This makes Roy a hero to some, and an enemy to many. And that is just fine by him. Background Father • Kane Duranger, Mercenary, Deceased Mother • Giselle Arjan, Musician, Political Advocate, Shelter Corps Director Siblings • N/A Connections: Bo Daran - Bounty Hunter/Smuggler, TB9-K - Protocol/ Utility Droid, Neela Av'ari - Shelter Agent, Kaelith - Merc Bodyguard, Samara - Merc, Rarnin - Merc Slicer/Pilot, Rathan - Merc, the Dust Devils, Shelter Corps Directors, Vikram Kessler - Mob Boss, Rox - Info Broker, Zaran - Healer, Larkin - Sith Aristocrat, Olaf - Weapons Dealer History: Roy has spent most of his life in the Outer Rim working as a smuggler and gun for hire (mostly for the Republic). Every year the Fringer makes a trip to the Core Worlds of Corellia and Coruscant to relax, check in on old friends and family, and shop for new tech to add to his ship or personal arsenal. Captain Duranger also often acts as a vigilante when the opportunity presents itself, using his ties to the Shelter Corps to give aid to those who've fallen on hard times. Whether this means transporting goods, handing out disaster relief supplies, or taking on a local gang, it makes no difference to Roy. Duranger spent a lot of his time on Tatooine in the past year. The Shelter Corps are establishing a community outreach center and homeless shelter. As expected, it proved to be a dangerous undertaking. Roy took it upon himself to get familiar with the criminal scum of Mos Eisley, intent on protecting Shelter Corps, its employees, and those from the community who would sign up as volunteers. Finally making progress, Roy has recently agreed to meet with the mob boss Vikram Kessler. If Roy will do the mob a favor, they will reward him with considering a hands-off approach as far as Shelter's mission goes. Roy is perfectly aware of the danger he's walking into, but this is what he does. Roy takes the risks others can't afford to. RP Sample: Roy snored himself awake, just about spilling out of his captain's chair and onto the floor of the cockpit as he came to and momentarily lost his balance. "Ugh, my head. Blasted Rylothian ale.." the Fringer grumbled. Roy slid his heels down from the control console in front of him and gingerly sat up as his boots met the floor. Cap'n Duranger groaned again and squeezed his eyes shut against the whooshing sensation going on between his ears. He let the dizziness subside before finally opening one bleary eye at a time. "Looking good Cap'n!" came a sudden and entirely too loud voice. Roy's hands reflexively shot for his holsters as his spine stiffened in alarm. He blinked up at Neela's pretty face, her good-natured chuckles finally registering. "Damn girl, 'bout came outta mah boots..." Roy drawled. The Captain swung his chair away from her and faced the forward viewport. Yellow and orange stars Tatoo I and Tatoo II peeked over the horizon and engulfed the desert sands in beautiful golden orange light. Roy forced himself to keep his eyes open despite the discomfort, marveling at the sight for a long moment. Neela had seated herself across from him in the co-pilot's seat. His Twi'lek friend was watching him intently. "Somethin' on yer mind Nee?" Roy questioned. He fished through his vest pockets and retrieved a pack of cigs and lighter. Cupping the flame of his lighter by instinct, Roy lit his first cig of the day and took a long deep drag. He watched the cloud of smoke he exhaled swirl around as it hung in the air in front of him. Neela tilted her head back, draping her blue-green lekku (head-tails) over the back of her chair. "Nothing much. Just bored really. I'm ready to kiss the Outer Rim good-bye for a while and return to proper civilization." The Twi'lek woman replied. She sent her seat swiveling in a slow circle, arms resting palm up on the armrests. Roy looked over and rested a hand over his heart in dramatic fashion. "Is my company really so bad young Miss?" he teased. "Yes." came the deadpan voice of a robot from behind them. Roy cracked a smile. TB9-K stepped into the cockpit, a small platter bearing a fresh cup of caf in the protocol/utility droid's metallic grasp. Roy accepted the beverage with enthusiasm. "Ah, bless you TB! Keep this up and I'll be obliged to carry your robo progeny," he joked just before taking a long sip. Neela was shaking her head. "Life doesn't get better than this," Roy said with a sigh of contentment. "A fine ship to call home and freshly squeezed caf," he said, punctuating the latter part of his sentence by raising his cup appreciatively. Neela laughed. "You are so addicted to that stuff. And where was my warm welcome eh?" "You came bearing sarcasm, not caf." Roy retorted matter-of-factly. He took another long sip. The Twi'lek raised an eyebrow coyly. "Thought you enjoyed a bit of verbal sparring Captain my Captain." Roy nodded as he finished the warm beverage cupped in his hands. "Oh I do, but I have a killer headache this morning. It's the darnedest thing," he said breaking into a laugh. "I told you to slow down on that Rylothian ale. You'll get no sympathy from me," she declared with a wag of her finger. "Yeah, yeah, fair. I just didn't want the cool kids to think I was lame and couldn't hold my liquor," he explained. TB interjected. "Cool kids sir?" The half Zeltron and Twi'lek exchanged amused glances. "Colloquialism my dude, a figure of speech." "He's not asking what the phrase means, hes' asking who the blazes you're referring to," Neela objected. Of course, she knew Roy already knew that. This kind of banter was common for them. "Oh y'know, that whole bunch from last night. Rothee and his gang." "Uh-huh. Consider them cool do ya? Do you wanna be just like them when you grow up?" Roy gave her an exaggerated nod. "Absolutely. Real stand-up fellas. Gentlemen 'n scholars, you could say." Roy broke character with a chuckle, causing Neela to join him. There was someone present however who did not have an appreciation of sarcasm nor comedy. "Ah. Sarcasm. How I adore it. Might I suggest you employ a more selective process by which to engage with business partners in the future Master Duranger?" the Droid's posh accent intoned. "Oooh, got 'im!" Neela raised a hand and after a moment TB9-K finally slapped a palm against hers in a shared expression of triumph. The Shelter Agent was all smiles. "Ok, ok, but in all seriousness we need this deal. Rothee's a scum who can't stand the likes of my dear 'ol Mum, but he'll deal with me because I grep up out here in the Fringe just like he did." "He thinks you're cut from the same cloth." Neela offered. "Exactly. And if I have to play nice and share a bottle with a bunch of thugs to make sure they leave Shelter alone then so be it." Neela was more serious now. "So what did you promise him to get his cooperation? That ale was good, but not that good. You make a sizeable donation to his retirement fund?" Roy shook his head. "No, I agreed to meet with Kessler. He wants a favor." Concern shown on his friend's face. "Roy--" she began. Roy held up a hand. "I know, I know, I'll be careful. Rothee might be a joke, but I take his bosses quite seriously. He probably wants me to run a bounty for him." "Let's hope it's legit guild work and not mob wet-work you've signed yourself up for." Neela crossed her arms and settled back against her seat. "Whatever it is I'll be rnning it by Rox. She'll know how to best navigate this." "Good." Neela sighed. "Good." Roy repeated with a nod. Ooh yeah, this'll be fun the Fringer thought wryly. |