Post by Mara on Dec 9, 2008 19:28:07 GMT -5
Real Name: Trevil (Trev) Lora'nthe [pron.: trev'ILL lore'ANTH'ee]
Aliases: Varys Re'vres, Yunas, Querian
Race: Bothan
Age: 30
Gender: male
Height: about 5 feet
Weight: 160 pounds
Appearance: Like all Bothans, Trevil is a humanoid mammalian with canine, equine and feline features, especially in the face. He has light brown fur that is sensitive to his mood, displaying in different arrays depending on the situation. With his expressive light violet eyes, he appears very intelligent. He generally wears simple attire, preferring the anonymity of it. In addition to his plain trousers and tunic, boots large enough for his feet, he wears a belt and holster with a blaster at his waist.
Birth place: unknown city, Bothawui
Occupation: Slicer, amateur sabacc player
Rank: N/A
Bio:
Born on Bothawui to middle class parents, Trevil Lora'nthe had a pretty normal childhood. He was the youngest of three children in his family, the only male. Because of this, ever since he was born, his father treated him with extra care that he didn't share with his two daughters Rena and Pola. Trevil's father made sure that his son was enrolled in the best school his average salary could buy, even sacrificing the few luxuries the Lora'nthes had in order to do so, as soon as Tre was old enough to attend.
Much to his father's great delight, Trevil soon excelled in his school, becoming one of the top students in his class. At such a young age, most parents would not put too much stock in it, but Tre's father did. He was so proud of him, he doted on him even more, almost ignoring his daughters, leaving his wife to rear them. He gave his son a used datapad for him to play around with that he bought off a friend.
The young Bothan took to this new machine--to him it wasn't a toy--quickly. There became a point where if he wasn't in school, at the dinner table or asleep, he was sitting at his desk fiddling with his datapad, computer or other electronic odds and ends his father found for him. His father didn't quite understand his son's interest and proficiency at these things, but took it all in stride, buying him new items when he could. He couldn't have been more proud.
A few months after Trevil had finished school, a year and a half before other students in his grade level, the now adult Bothan still found himself spending most of his waking hours holed up in his room, parked in front of one of his many computer terminals or with a datapad in his lap. Despite his father's adoration of his son, no matter what he did, he along with his mother urged him to go out into the working world, to find a job. Tre easily found himself a techie job at one of Bothawui's prominent corporations, and he settled into a regular schedule of answering comm calls and the occasional home visit to do a fix in person. Even with this busy job, he still found time at home at night to work with his own machines. Doing things his parents would probably be ashamed of if they had ever found out.
A couple of years after he started his job and one promotion later, Trevil finally moved out on his own, finding and apartment closer to where his office building was located. He moved all his equipment in with him. The spare room of the small apartment was the most furnished of the rest of the apartment combined. Trevil had no need for anything fancy; the rest of the floor space was sparsely covered with things here and there. He was careful now more than ever with what he did in his spare time; he couldn't afford to lose his job now. Not while he was so close.
Not generally one who preferred to hang out with other beings--barely had a being to call a friend when he was in school--others began calling at his place and staying for a few hours before leaving. Trevil held these meetings twice a month at first, but then his visitors began coming once or more a week. No one in the apartment complex ever noticed this change in his social habits; they were all too busy with their own lives to watch over a Bothan's visitor list.
The group was made up of two human males, a female Zeltron and a Rodian. Roughly two years after the five of them had begun meeting together at Trevil's place, the meetings suddenly stopped. The day had finally come for them to put their plan into action; they were robbing a bank in the city. The Zeltron, of course, would be their way in, using her pheromones to distract the guards, the two humans providing armaments if needed. The Rodian worked at the bank and would be their inside man. And most importantly, there was Trevil, the Bothan. He would be disarming all alarms through the system of computers and datapads he had set up at his home. A home he was not planning on seeing again, ever. The group was planning to meet up at an undisclosed location in a couple of hours, after the job was completed to deal out the loot shares.
Finally, Trevil received his cue and began slicing into the bank computer's mainframe, slowly removing all safety precautions and disabling all alarms and holovid feeds. He dodged through the systems, leaving backdoors and failsafes, so that his entrance and exit would never be found. At the same time, the Zeltron and two humans were entering the bank. She started her distraction, while the others subdued anyone who tried to talk or fight back, with the Rodian employee helping. Quickly, they got into the vault, easily with Trevil's help. They packed up all the credits they could carry and got into their speeder for their getaway. No alarms ever went off. The local authorities arrived too late, and no one ever found out why or how the security systems had been turned off, nor how there was no video record of the bank robbers.
Later that day, after his apartment had been cleaned so that no one would ever know he had lived there, and with his belongings in a couple of suitcases, Trevil hired an airtaxi to take him to the predetermined rendezvous point. Discovering he was early, the Bothan made himself comfortable and began waiting. Minutes, then hours began to tick by, and Tre's fur began acting erratically as he was getting worried. Where was the rest of his group? Three hours past the time of the meeting, he finally gave up and dug a disposable commlink out of one of his bags and called up the Zeltron. No answer. There was no answer from the Rodian and the two humans either. Trevil had a sinking feeling in his gut; they had deserted him. They had taken the loot and ran, hoping for a bigger cut with one less being to take a share. Panicking now, Trevil left the abandoned warehouse quickly and hurried towards the city's spaceport. He had no idea if his "friends" would have alerted the authorities or not, to keep him off their trail. Tre needed to get off Bothawui as fast as he could. Using most of his last credits, he bought a ticket on the nearest transport, not even bothering to look where he was going. He was also too busy worrying about his hide to even think about the fact that for the first time in his life, he was leaving his planet. Never to return. No good-byes to his family.
Over the next year or so, Trevil the Bothan had been to probably a dozen different planets, never staying for more than a couple of months. Even though he had figured that by now he wasn't being followed, he now was moving often to find the rest of the members of his small group. There was no way they could take his share of the bank credits and get away with it, just because he was the "techie," the "nerd." He did more than his full share of work. Without him, the heist never would have went off.
Shortly running out of his own supply of credits after he had left Bothawui, Trevil found himself doing the odd job here and there to earn himself passage on another vessel to another planet to continue his search. While on Corellia he even discovered sabacc, which he quickly realized was a quick way to make credits. If they didn't catch him cheating. Besides gambling, Trevil learned how to shoot with a sniper rifle, how to put up prefab buildings and more among his many travels.
As he traveled from place to place, Trevil never again gave out his real and given name. A dishonor if his parents knew it, but Tre was fearing for his life, in case Bothan authorities somehow did discover him due to his friends' possible betrayal. He even carried some fur dye and colored contacts in his belongings, in case he needed to step up his subterfuge.
Two years after leaving Bothawui behind, the Bothan now found himself on Tatooine, scouring the sandy horizons for his departed band. Completely out of credits once again, Trevil hung around the Mos Espa spaceport, getting in on a sabacc or other card game here and there. It soon had become apparent that Mos Espa was not being fruitful enough for him, and wanting to get a move on again soon, Trevil entered a small cantina that had a job posting for another bartender. Though he soon discovered that he had more expertise at drinking than pouring, his boss named Maso, found him to be a fair bartender and kept him on, paying him meager wages and knowing him as simply Yunas, one of his many aliases.
Trevil can be found working nights at the cantina in the Mos Espa spaceport where he sometimes will take part in the odd sabacc game he can find. With no leads on Tatooine, he is itchy to leave again in search of his stolen loot.
[See Trevil's Databank thread for more of his continued adventures.]
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 4
Intelligence: 8
Speed: 7
Leadership: 3
Unarmed: 2
Melee Weapons: 2
Ranged Weapons: 6
Alignment: -1
RP Sample:
His furry fingers sped across the computer terminal in front of him. It was almost like a maze, the webs he was searching deep in the bank's security feed. There! He had found it. The Bothan's fur fluffed in delight as he slowly and carefully deactivated every single holocam in the large building.
Again, his fingers flew across the keys, now searching for the security system. This would be more difficult to find and disarm. He would need more trap doors and false exits after he was done with the job. But for Trevil, it would be easy. He loved slicing into things that he wasn't meant to; for him, it was just more enjoyable that way.
A small beep sounded from the earpiece in his left ear. The rest of them were ready to make their entrance. And within moments later, Trevil signaled back to tell them that the security system was off. He continued tapping away, erasing all evidence of his presence in the bank's computers.
The Bothan sat back after he was done and grinned toothily. In a few hours, he would be rich beyond his wildest dreams.
Aliases: Varys Re'vres, Yunas, Querian
Race: Bothan
Age: 30
Gender: male
Height: about 5 feet
Weight: 160 pounds
Appearance: Like all Bothans, Trevil is a humanoid mammalian with canine, equine and feline features, especially in the face. He has light brown fur that is sensitive to his mood, displaying in different arrays depending on the situation. With his expressive light violet eyes, he appears very intelligent. He generally wears simple attire, preferring the anonymity of it. In addition to his plain trousers and tunic, boots large enough for his feet, he wears a belt and holster with a blaster at his waist.
Birth place: unknown city, Bothawui
Occupation: Slicer, amateur sabacc player
Rank: N/A
Bio:
Born on Bothawui to middle class parents, Trevil Lora'nthe had a pretty normal childhood. He was the youngest of three children in his family, the only male. Because of this, ever since he was born, his father treated him with extra care that he didn't share with his two daughters Rena and Pola. Trevil's father made sure that his son was enrolled in the best school his average salary could buy, even sacrificing the few luxuries the Lora'nthes had in order to do so, as soon as Tre was old enough to attend.
Much to his father's great delight, Trevil soon excelled in his school, becoming one of the top students in his class. At such a young age, most parents would not put too much stock in it, but Tre's father did. He was so proud of him, he doted on him even more, almost ignoring his daughters, leaving his wife to rear them. He gave his son a used datapad for him to play around with that he bought off a friend.
The young Bothan took to this new machine--to him it wasn't a toy--quickly. There became a point where if he wasn't in school, at the dinner table or asleep, he was sitting at his desk fiddling with his datapad, computer or other electronic odds and ends his father found for him. His father didn't quite understand his son's interest and proficiency at these things, but took it all in stride, buying him new items when he could. He couldn't have been more proud.
A few months after Trevil had finished school, a year and a half before other students in his grade level, the now adult Bothan still found himself spending most of his waking hours holed up in his room, parked in front of one of his many computer terminals or with a datapad in his lap. Despite his father's adoration of his son, no matter what he did, he along with his mother urged him to go out into the working world, to find a job. Tre easily found himself a techie job at one of Bothawui's prominent corporations, and he settled into a regular schedule of answering comm calls and the occasional home visit to do a fix in person. Even with this busy job, he still found time at home at night to work with his own machines. Doing things his parents would probably be ashamed of if they had ever found out.
A couple of years after he started his job and one promotion later, Trevil finally moved out on his own, finding and apartment closer to where his office building was located. He moved all his equipment in with him. The spare room of the small apartment was the most furnished of the rest of the apartment combined. Trevil had no need for anything fancy; the rest of the floor space was sparsely covered with things here and there. He was careful now more than ever with what he did in his spare time; he couldn't afford to lose his job now. Not while he was so close.
Not generally one who preferred to hang out with other beings--barely had a being to call a friend when he was in school--others began calling at his place and staying for a few hours before leaving. Trevil held these meetings twice a month at first, but then his visitors began coming once or more a week. No one in the apartment complex ever noticed this change in his social habits; they were all too busy with their own lives to watch over a Bothan's visitor list.
The group was made up of two human males, a female Zeltron and a Rodian. Roughly two years after the five of them had begun meeting together at Trevil's place, the meetings suddenly stopped. The day had finally come for them to put their plan into action; they were robbing a bank in the city. The Zeltron, of course, would be their way in, using her pheromones to distract the guards, the two humans providing armaments if needed. The Rodian worked at the bank and would be their inside man. And most importantly, there was Trevil, the Bothan. He would be disarming all alarms through the system of computers and datapads he had set up at his home. A home he was not planning on seeing again, ever. The group was planning to meet up at an undisclosed location in a couple of hours, after the job was completed to deal out the loot shares.
Finally, Trevil received his cue and began slicing into the bank computer's mainframe, slowly removing all safety precautions and disabling all alarms and holovid feeds. He dodged through the systems, leaving backdoors and failsafes, so that his entrance and exit would never be found. At the same time, the Zeltron and two humans were entering the bank. She started her distraction, while the others subdued anyone who tried to talk or fight back, with the Rodian employee helping. Quickly, they got into the vault, easily with Trevil's help. They packed up all the credits they could carry and got into their speeder for their getaway. No alarms ever went off. The local authorities arrived too late, and no one ever found out why or how the security systems had been turned off, nor how there was no video record of the bank robbers.
Later that day, after his apartment had been cleaned so that no one would ever know he had lived there, and with his belongings in a couple of suitcases, Trevil hired an airtaxi to take him to the predetermined rendezvous point. Discovering he was early, the Bothan made himself comfortable and began waiting. Minutes, then hours began to tick by, and Tre's fur began acting erratically as he was getting worried. Where was the rest of his group? Three hours past the time of the meeting, he finally gave up and dug a disposable commlink out of one of his bags and called up the Zeltron. No answer. There was no answer from the Rodian and the two humans either. Trevil had a sinking feeling in his gut; they had deserted him. They had taken the loot and ran, hoping for a bigger cut with one less being to take a share. Panicking now, Trevil left the abandoned warehouse quickly and hurried towards the city's spaceport. He had no idea if his "friends" would have alerted the authorities or not, to keep him off their trail. Tre needed to get off Bothawui as fast as he could. Using most of his last credits, he bought a ticket on the nearest transport, not even bothering to look where he was going. He was also too busy worrying about his hide to even think about the fact that for the first time in his life, he was leaving his planet. Never to return. No good-byes to his family.
Over the next year or so, Trevil the Bothan had been to probably a dozen different planets, never staying for more than a couple of months. Even though he had figured that by now he wasn't being followed, he now was moving often to find the rest of the members of his small group. There was no way they could take his share of the bank credits and get away with it, just because he was the "techie," the "nerd." He did more than his full share of work. Without him, the heist never would have went off.
Shortly running out of his own supply of credits after he had left Bothawui, Trevil found himself doing the odd job here and there to earn himself passage on another vessel to another planet to continue his search. While on Corellia he even discovered sabacc, which he quickly realized was a quick way to make credits. If they didn't catch him cheating. Besides gambling, Trevil learned how to shoot with a sniper rifle, how to put up prefab buildings and more among his many travels.
As he traveled from place to place, Trevil never again gave out his real and given name. A dishonor if his parents knew it, but Tre was fearing for his life, in case Bothan authorities somehow did discover him due to his friends' possible betrayal. He even carried some fur dye and colored contacts in his belongings, in case he needed to step up his subterfuge.
Two years after leaving Bothawui behind, the Bothan now found himself on Tatooine, scouring the sandy horizons for his departed band. Completely out of credits once again, Trevil hung around the Mos Espa spaceport, getting in on a sabacc or other card game here and there. It soon had become apparent that Mos Espa was not being fruitful enough for him, and wanting to get a move on again soon, Trevil entered a small cantina that had a job posting for another bartender. Though he soon discovered that he had more expertise at drinking than pouring, his boss named Maso, found him to be a fair bartender and kept him on, paying him meager wages and knowing him as simply Yunas, one of his many aliases.
Trevil can be found working nights at the cantina in the Mos Espa spaceport where he sometimes will take part in the odd sabacc game he can find. With no leads on Tatooine, he is itchy to leave again in search of his stolen loot.
[See Trevil's Databank thread for more of his continued adventures.]
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 4
Intelligence: 8
Speed: 7
Leadership: 3
Unarmed: 2
Melee Weapons: 2
Ranged Weapons: 6
Alignment: -1
RP Sample:
His furry fingers sped across the computer terminal in front of him. It was almost like a maze, the webs he was searching deep in the bank's security feed. There! He had found it. The Bothan's fur fluffed in delight as he slowly and carefully deactivated every single holocam in the large building.
Again, his fingers flew across the keys, now searching for the security system. This would be more difficult to find and disarm. He would need more trap doors and false exits after he was done with the job. But for Trevil, it would be easy. He loved slicing into things that he wasn't meant to; for him, it was just more enjoyable that way.
A small beep sounded from the earpiece in his left ear. The rest of them were ready to make their entrance. And within moments later, Trevil signaled back to tell them that the security system was off. He continued tapping away, erasing all evidence of his presence in the bank's computers.
The Bothan sat back after he was done and grinned toothily. In a few hours, he would be rich beyond his wildest dreams.
