[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/Swo0JgD.png[/img][/center]

[center][b][color=fff200]Hamlin Teth[/color] - [color=00a651]Alive[/color][/b][/center]
[hider=Hamlin Teth]

[center][b]Hamlin Teth[/b]
[img]http://33.media.tumblr.com/6c6041bee1b05cdfaea7021a394e0a10/tumblr_mqq2pwQLhA1s4lxoao1_500.gif[/img]
[img]http://49.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lpfrq0QQ5f1r14lqno1_500.gif[/img]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/0Y8bT.gif[/img][/center]


[color=805515][u]Introduction[/u][/color]

[b][color=805515]Full Name:[/color][/b]
Hamlin Teth

[b][color=805515]Age:[/color][/b]
25

[b][color=805515]Species:[/color][/b]
Human

[b][color=805515]Gender:[/color][/b]
Male

[b][color=805515]Force Sensitive:[/color][/b]
Yes



[color=805515][u]Appearance[/u][/color]

[center][img]https://41.media.tumblr.com/917613849c582cace8a5ad33c46f2048/tumblr_n5hynff6Yl1r2qnt9o1_500.png[/img][/center]

[b][color=805515]Description:[/color][/b]
Hamlin has fairly common features for someone from Vulta's higher-class areas around Lake Yinta, more specifically, the slave pens there. His skin is white with a fairly pale complexion, pockmarked and somewhat weathered from years of hard work and overexposure to the elements. His jawline is relatively defined, accentuating the thin stubble which usually covers his face, maintaining a near-perpetual five o'clock shadow. He has no visible facial scarring, but there are a few wrinkles particularly on his forehead which remain fairly clear. He has a pointed nose and somewhat large ears, and his eyes are a deep blue colour. Overall, he has somewhat handsome, if not weathered facial features. He has short, curly brown hair, which extends a little more than three inches from his head.

In terms of his build, Hamlin is not the most physically able, he has some musculature, but it is certainly not a defining feature on his body, apart from his legs. His biceps and pectoral muscles are visible, but nothing particularly special. His overall build is generally more athletic, agile and dextrous than strong. There is a black slave tattoo on Hamlin's chest, which, while partially faded, is still quite visible, and pokes out from under his collar as it runs to a few inches below his chin. Hamlin's hands are calloused from a life of mechanical work and handling heavy objects, and his knuckles are partially scarred.


[color=805515][u]Characteristics[/u][/color]

[b][color=805515]Personality[/color][/b]
Hamlin's personality is fairly well summed up using the same term that generally gets used for his profession - a Scoundrel. Hamlin is a liar, a cheat, a charmer, witty and sarcastic. He has a way with words and knows how to twist them so that anyone may fall into his trap or believe what he has to say. When he has a desire to be genuine and friendly with an individual, he can be fairly easy to get on with, but the difficulty with Hamlin is that it is hard to tell whether or not he is genuine. Overall, he is not the most trustworthy of individuals, likely to betray, backstab anyone he knows for the promise of credits. To those who perhaps do not know the true depths of Hamlin's personality, he would essentially seem to be little more than an ass.

Despite himself being untrustworthy, Hamlin has difficulties of his own finding the capability to trust other individuals. A man who has spent a great deal of his life running and hiding from the law, he holds a general fear of placing trust in individuals for the thought that they may sell him out. Hamlin holds this fear in terms of relationships as well, he is generally noncommittal with a partner, and many of his past relationships have involved a few sexual encounters and a stealthy retreat into the night after he has gotten bored. He is generally incapable of settling down, and spends most of his time taking jobs from whoever is offering work, moving from planet to planet and cantina to cantina.

Despite the fact that Hamlin is nearly constantly running from the law, he is not one to run and hide from a fight. Should some sort of challenge be issued to him, or the law finally catch up to him at some point, he will not shy away, and instead turns to face the problem head-on, usually resorting to violence when words will not do the trick. He is not at all against the use of violence, but will generally avoid resorting to it when he can see an alternative - especially considering he's usually outnumbered.

[b][color=805515]Fears & Flaws[/color][/b]
Fear - The Force/Force Users: Hamlin doesn't know a great deal of factual information regarding the Jedi of old, the Sith and the Force, but what he does know, he doesn't like. The idea of all-powerful space-sorcerers with the ability to see into your mind, wielding plasma swords that can cut clean through durasteel is one Hamlin wants nothing to do with.

Fear - Mynocks: Big, ugly bats who can survive in the Vacuum of space. Likely to put a hole in your ship or something vital on it while looking for 'nutrients'. These have been the death of many an unwary pilot, and Hamlin is terrified of the pests.

Flaw - Inept With Explosives: While Hamlin is a decent shot, a fairly reasonable mechanic, and even a passable slicer, he does not understand explosives at all. Whether it's a thermal detonator or especially something more devastating, Hamlin is far more likely to blow himself up than anyone else. 

Flaw - Physical Weakness: Hamlin never really relies on his physical capabilities to do his job. Rather, he has focused on his piloting, his shooting and his talking to get him through life. When it comes to hand-to-hand combat or any sort of test of might, Hamlin is not one to bet on.

Flaw - Alcoholism: Life in the galaxy can be hard under the Empire, as a Smuggler with hutts on his heels and the Empire on his ass, Hamlin needs a little something to take the edge off, and for him, that's alcohol. Many a time has Hamlin woken up somewhere he isn't familiar with, a new set of regrets filling his mind.

[b][color=805515]Talents[/color][/b]
Made the Kessel Run (Piloting) - A freighter pilot, Hamlin has spent most of his life running contraband around Imperial patrols and blockades. As a result, he's become quite skilled both at maneuvering a ship to escape, and in stealth. He has been in the cockpit of his YT-1250 Freighter since he was seventeen, and has had plenty of years to practice, he has even made the Kessel run in a little under fourteen parsecs. Overall, Hamlin is an incredibly skilled, and remarkably lucky pilot.

Blast the Ears Off a Gundark (Blaster Pistols) - Hamlin's had a pistol in his hand since he was thirteen, and he's had more than a few cases in which he's had to use it. An exceptionally accurate shot with his pistol, Hamlin has taken to calling his customized DL-44 'Lucky'. He's an excellent quick draw artist, and not to be trifled with in a firefight.

We've had a Slight Weapons Malfunction (Persuasion) - While Hamlin is truly a magnificent shot with a blaster pistol, he is aware of his own physical shortcomings, and knows that even he cannot win every fight, especially when he's outnumbered. Instead, Hamlin tends to rely more on his charisma and his charm to get out of trouble, whether it's lying, bribing and generally reasoning with the enemy, Hamlin can usually talk his way out of trouble.


[color=805515][u]History[/u][/color]

[b][color=805515]Backstory[/color][/b]
Yinta Lake, Vulta. Back in the days of the Old Republic it was a den for crime lords, poverty and villainy. Since the growth of the Empire however, it has seen a remarkable transition. The majority of the cities which previously were within the area have since been torn down, and now the area is a resort paradise for Imperial Intelligence, Regional Governors and retired officials, populated mostly by those of high class, and their slaves. Hamlin Teth was born as one such slave - to the former renowned and decorated ISB agent Arawan Proga. Most of his childhood was spent doing basic tasks, cleaning, gardening, simple work which was not too back-breaking. However, Proga cared little for his slaves, he barely fed them, and only a short while after he was born, Hamlin's mother was killed in a failed attempt to escape, having never known his father, Hamlin was now alone under the rule of his cruel master.

Hamlin knew his chance to escape, though, beginning to devise his plans from the young age of ten. Proga had a habit for spice, and regularly had it specially delivered to his villa by smugglers of the Hutt Cartel, in return for free passage through the system. He devised his way to escape, and when he was twelve, Hamlin successfully stowed away aboard one of the visiting Cartel freighters, leaving Vulta and being brought to Nal Hutta. It was there where he was discovered, attempting to leave the freighter, he was caught by the Captain as they unloaded their cargo. He was brought before Maroga the Hutt, who was the Smuggler's boss. Deciding against leaving the child to die, Maroga took in Hamlin, and made him work for the Cartel in order to work off his debt. At first Hamlin was concerned he had fallen into another trap of slavery, but soon learned that was not the case, as he began to work more for himself, earning his own and only having to give a fairly generous retainer of his earnings to Maroga.

He spent his teenage years on Nal Hutta, learning what anyone would teach him, from vibrosword combat, to shooting, to mechanics, piloting and slicing. It was also on Nal Hutta where Hamlin first heard tales of the Jedi. An older bounty hunter named Rakston Tavik served as something of a mentor to Hamlin and a father-figure, and told the young boy a great deal about many run-ins the bounty hunter had with Jedi back in the days of the Old Republic. Rakston was anything but kind to the Jedi, and his portrayal perhaps had a great deal in molding Hamlin's opinion of them as all-powerful, 'holier-than-thou' sorcerers who used their abilities to prey on the weak and defenseless, or kill them should they feel like it. When Hamlin was seventeen, Rakston was killed during a job by Imperial Stormtroopers, and left his YT-1250 Freighter to the boy as a gift. Taking the freighter, Hamlin left Nal Hutta and began to take on work elsewhere, mostly in the same line as what he had been doing for Maroga.

He still paid Maroga a retainer of his earnings as he began to work alone, but as he got older he decided he did not need to pay the Hutt any longer, something which the large slug did not agree with. Maroga sent a number of bounty hunters after Hamlin, who caught up to him on the planet Jakku, while Hamlin was looking for new work. After a bit of a rough flight back to Nal Hutta, Hamlin was brought before Maroga once more, and informed that his debt was brought up once again by his 'betrayal'. To repay the Hutt, and as a cruel joke on the part of Maroga, Hamlin was given one last job, he was to sneak aboard the Star Destroyer 'Vigilance' and steal an old Jedi Artifact held dear by the ship's captain. Knowing that his choice was to take the job or be fed to a Rancor, Hamlin accepted, and began to make plans.

With the Vigilance holding position over the planet Akiva, Hamlin waited in Myrra, particularly at its many different Cantina's, for some of the on-board army troopers to come down for R&R, offering a pair who eventually came to his particular Cantina drinks and chatter throughout the night, he eventually got himself invited to their apartment to relax. Knocking the two out, he planted spice on them and had them arrested, stealing their uniforms to sneak aboard the ship itself. He spent close to a month aboard the Vigilance learning how things operated before he finally had his opportunity to steal the artifact in question, a lightsaber crystal. Through an incredible amount of luck, Hamlin managed to escape with the crystal fairly unscathed, returning to Nal Hutta and giving it to Maroga, officially paying off his debt. Unfortunately, While Hamlin no longer had the Hutt Cartel after him, he had been caught on Camera during his escape from the Vigilance, and was now wanted by the Empire.

For a number of years he managed to evade the Imperials, that is until Hamlin took a job on Tatooine. He shouldn't have, the deal was far shadier than he would've liked, approached by a man who seemed far too interested in his services, he was told to go to a particular meeting spot a little too far out of town to pick up the cargo. He blamed the alcohol and his need for credits at the time on the fact that he took the job, but overall it stinked, and Hamlin made a bad call. When he arrived at the meeting spot, he was ambushed by Stormtroopers, and a few ISB agents. The impounded his ship in Ancorhead, and Hamlin was trudged off to a transport to be brought to Mos Eisley, his luck had finally run out.[/hider]

[center][b][color=fff200]Mrak[/color] - [color=00a651]Alive[/color][/b][/center]
[hider=Mrak] 

[center][b]Mrak[/b]
[img]http://49.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m9dq3mqNEr1r8t4mjo1_r1_500.gif[/img][/center]


[color=FFD700][u]Introduction[/u][/color]

[b][color=FFD700]Full Name:[/color][/b] Sre'vkk'lak, "Mrak" 

[b][color=FFD700]Age:[/color][/b] 37

[b][color=FFD700]Species:[/color][/b] Human

[b][color=FFD700]Gender:[/color][/b] Male

[b][color=FFD700]Force Sensitive:[/color][/b] No


[color=FFD700][u]Appearance[/u][/color]

[center][img]http://www.medievalists.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/1_001.png[/img][/center]

[b][color=FFD700]Description[/color][/b]
Mrak stands at a solid 6’1, with lean muscle from strenuous labor and combat on Tatooine. While not overly bulky, his physique shows through his almost total lack of body fat. His right eye is a scarred and ruined mess, permanently shut after a krayt dragon ripped it open with its deadly claws. Mrak keeps this concealed with a simple tan cloth wrapped at an angle around his head. Two more scars from the same incident dig into his left cheek. Mrak’s hands are coarse and callused, his right missing its pinkie finger from the first knuckle up. Most of the Tusken’s body is coated in an ugly layer of scars, burns, and blaster marks. 

Mrak wears a combination of durasteel and Stormtrooper armor over his traditional Tusken robes. The metallic durasteel has been salvaged from various suits of armor, rarely matching, and the plastoid composite Stormtrooper plates are painted to blend in with the sand of Tatooine. What the armor doesn’t conceal is wrapped in tan rags, and Mrak’s entire frame is usually obscured by a flowing earth-colored robe. 

[color=FFD700][u]Characteristics[/u][/color]

[b][color=FFD700]Personality[/color][/b]
Mrak is a reserved man, saving his words for when he is spoken to. His grammar is fine, but the Tusken’s Basic vocabulary is lacking, and he occasionally substitutes Basic words with Tusken. This relative silence is typical of Sand People, a culture where words are generally reserved for important occasions, like stories and rituals, and body language is often substituted for real speech. Since Tusken’s faces are almost always concealed by their masks, Mrak is both very poor at concealing his emotions and reading others, though he does pick up on body language. Mrak is wary of strangers, another characteristic from living among Tusken Raiders. His trust is hard to gain, having lived in a tight knit community for almost his entire life, but once his loyalty is acquired Mrak will die for his allies. Despite his origins as a raider, Mrak is a very honor-bound man. He keeps any promises he makes and stands by his friends. The Tusken is burdened by pride, however, and is unlikely to accept any assistance from others. Any insults directed to him are likely to be met with physical violence, as he is not one for words. Though he lived among other humans for ten years, Mrak is still largely uneasy around his own species. He is uncomfortable being seen or seeing others without being totally covered in clothing, physical contact with someone who isn’t his mate is almost repulsive, and small talk is something he has yet to grasp. Though Mrak knows now that, like many other humans living among the raiders, he is no true Tusken, he still considers himself part of this culture. 

After learning of his mate’s likely demise, Mrak’s character took a dark turn. He is driven not by survival, but hate, and though he exhibited restraint when first organizing the Tusken tribes, he is unlikely to be so level-headed now. Mrak’s only wish is to strike against the Empire for killing Jrr'ssk'iis, and he cares little about collateral damage. While previously deeply religious, believing in the traditional customs and gods of Tusken lore, these practices have lost their importance to Mrak in recent years.

[b][color=FFD700]Fears & Flaws[/color][/b]
Cyclops: Mrak’s right eye has been blinded, so his right side serves as a major weak spot in combat. The missing eye throws off his depth perception, greatly reducing his marksmanship. He is usually restricted to close-range blaster fights where he would use his club anyway. 

Aquaphobia: Mrak is totally unable to swim, rarely having seen a pool of water deeper than that in his canteen, and avoids deep water whenever possible.

Luddite: Tuskens are extremely averse to technology, and Mrak is no exception. He is unfamiliar with almost all forms of technology, save for weapons and some old machinery like speeder bikes. Mrak is also unfamiliar with space travel, and will undoubtedly be extremely fearful of it.

Recluse: Cut off from the rest of the universe, Mrak knows almost nothing about other cultures, planets, and politics. He both fears and hates outsiders, and is very resistant to any kind of cultural change. Mrak has only met Tuskens, humans, and to a limited extent Jawas and Hutts, and is wary of any other species. He is almost completely illiterate, as Tuskens don't believe in a written language, preferring to document events with stories told by their shaman.

[b][color=FFD700]Talents[/color][/b]
Resilient: Living on a planet where everything wants to kill you sometimes has its advantages, namely it makes you hard as nails. Mrak is accustomed to extreme heat and cold thanks to the desert environment and two suns of Tatooine. The Tusken can go for extended periods of time without food or water as well. His pain tolerance is higher than most, and he is more than willing to absorb a few blows in combat to finish an opponent. 

Brawler: Mrak has trained with a gaffi stick since he was capable of wielding one, and his expertise with this weapon, among others, gives him a distinct advantage in hand-to-hand combat. 

Raider: Despite his heavy-handed approach in combat, Mrak is quite light on his feet, capable of moving without making a sound; he developed this skill when sneaking up on moisture farmers, and later, stormtroopers. 
________________________________________

[color=FFD700][u]History[/u][/color]

[b][color=FFD700]Backstory[/color][/b]
Mrak was born on Tatooine to a pair of young moisture farmers, but then, his name was Ilkea Jhoren. When he was barely a year old, the farm was attacked by Tusken Raiders, and his entire family was killed by the Tuskens. Luckily, Ilkea was adopted by a female Tusken on the raid, Ora'jss'ask, who had just lost a young child of her own. Ora substituted her deceased babe with Ilkea, ensuring that none of their tribe knew the true identity of the human amongst their ranks, though many of the Tuskens were unknowingly humans themselves. She named the adopted child Sre’skk’lak and raised him as her own.

As a child, or uli-ah, Mrak proved himself as an exceptional combatant with a gaderfii, even besting a few adults. His skills with a blaster were sub-par, though marksmanship was not a vital part of their culture anyway, save for taking potshots at passing speeders. At 7, Mrak was paired with a bantha cub of the same age and formed the mystical bond that existed between the Raiders and banthas. Life as a Tusken, however, was never easy. He was constantly exposed to pain, violence, and death, not exactly the ideal environment for a child, but it was typical for Tusken Raiders. By the age of 13, Mrak had participated in three raids, killing a colonist on each. They did what they must to survive, although maybe reveling in the violence too much, but Mrak never found it to disturb him much. After eight birthing seasons, or sixteen years, Mrak, like all Tuskens, was required to prove himself in order to become a full member of the tribe. He set out on his bantha into the Jundland Wastes, in search of the krayt dragon. It was here that Mrak earned his place within the tribe by slaying one of these beasts with his gaderfii club, though the dragon badly damaged his right eye. Mrak retrieved the precious dragon pearl from the animal’s gullet and returned to his tribe, hailed as a hero. Mrak was given adult robes, a proper gaderfii staff, his own tent, and a mate. Mrak and the female Tusken, Jrr'ssk'iis, married, slicing their hands open and allowing their blood to mingle, along with the blood of their bantha mounts. The newly married couple then returned to Mrak’s tent, and for the first time since their birth, shed their clothes in the view of another. In Tusken culture, it is strictly forbidden to remove their protective clothing in front of others, except during childbirth and in the privacy of a tent with a mate. Breaking this rule would result in banishment, so no Tusken truly knew what the opposite sex looked like until their marriage night. Although Mrak was a human, and Jrr a true Tusken, neither knew what to expect, so they simply assumed that male and female Tuskens looked radically different. Regardless, the couple still did what most do on the night of their marriage.

The years passed, with Mrak becoming an even more important figure in the Tusken tribe. He was a fierce warrior and smart salvager, ranking him high in his tribe. Jrr never bore any children, since the two were biologically incompatible, though neither were overly heartbroken, for they had each other. When Mrak was in his mid-twenties, the Rebel Alliance was completely decimated by Imperial forces at the battle of Yavin, and soon, even the isolated and xenophobic Tuskens felt the pressure of the expanding empire. Mrak heard stories of entire Tusken tribes being wiped out by white devils, who then stole the surviving children and burned the huts. These tales were even more horrific than those the tribe shaman told of the vengeful desert spirit who struck down a village with his glowing gaderffii for failing to offer him sacrifices. However, because of the animosity between tribes, the Tuskens failed to learn more about these rumors.

Mrak’s nomadic village was struck next. The imperials came at night on their speeders while the tribe slept, moving from hut to hut, slaying the occupants. A sentry raised the alarm, and the Tuskens fought back. The tribe’s leader was slain in battle, but Mrak managed to rally the raiders and push back the Stormtroopers, though not without suffering heavy losses. As the soldiers fled in their speeders, Mrak noticed Jrr'ssk'iis, who fought beside him the entire night, was absent from his side. She wasn’t among the dead either, and Mrak realized she had been captured by the strange soldiers. If the remaining Tuskens had not been looking to him for leadership, Mrak would have ridden after the soldiers on a desperate mission to recover his wife. Unfortunately, Mrak knew that it was a hopeless endeavor, and the people here needed him. With a heavy heart, Mrak told the tribe to pack up on their banthas, and they set off into the desert. As they travelled deeper into the Jundland Wastes, the motley group found more and more Tusken villages wiped out by this new threat. Even moisture farmers were not spared. Mrak, sensing that the farmers were worth more alive than dead, offered the farmers a place in their caravan, much to the disappointment of his fellow Tuskens. Finally, the group found a tribe that was untouched by the Empire, and in light of this new threat, the village elder allowed Mrak and his followers to stay. 

More survivors trickled into the village, and even entire tribes who had yet to be attacked. Once again, they looked to Mrak for guidance, and he reluctantly gave it. Almost immediately, Mrak ordered the group to go on the offence against the Imperials, striking in a very similar manner they would colonists and moisture farmers. Hit-and-run tactics worked well against the structured army, though Mrak never how much damage the resistance movement caused. Over the next ten years, the Tusken tribes slowly united against the Empire, working together alongside colonists, though resentment still ran deep. Mrak was constantly searching for his mate, but never found any trace of her. After the Hutts were put in their place by the Empire, they finally turned their attention to the Tusken uprising in the Jundland Wastes. All the years of fighting apparently didn’t even affect the Empire, as they wiped out the Tuskens in one fell swoop, only this time, Mrak was among those captured.
Mrak came to learn that the Empire was carrying out systematic genocide against the Tuskens, killing the adults and true Tusken babies, and raising the human children to be soldiers of their own, meaning his mate was dead. He swore to avenge her, but it was difficult to carry out revenge on your way to an Imperial prison.[/hider]

[b][center][color=fff200]Varan Si'Li Roedam[/color] - [color=00a651]Alive[/color][/center][/b]
[hider=Varan]

[center][b][i]Varan[/i][/b]
[img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/55/3a/ae/553aae163436fd8b4029e062826f2949.jpg[/img][/center]


[centre][color=0174DF][u][b]Introduction[/b][/u][/color][/centre]

[b][color=0174DF]Full Name:[/color][/b] Varan Si'Li Roedam

[b][color=0174DF]Age:[/color][/b] 25

[b][color=0174DF]Species:[/color][/b] Human

[b][color=0174DF]Gender:[/color][/b] Male

[b][color=0174DF]Force Sensitive:[/color][/b] Unsure

[hr]

[centre][color=0174DF][u][b]Appearance[/b][/u][/color][/centre]

[b][color=0174DF]Description[/color][/b]
Varan's attire is rather basic for someone of his standard. The clothing he wears shows that he isn't just your regular citizen. It's rather odd, to notice, how it all comes together. Much like others of the same background, he is quite the tall company that can get on people's nerves. Though not the tallest in any group that he's been acquainted to, Varan stands roughly 6' 0". It links heavily to the uniform he wears, seeing as it doesn't just seem like the standard outfitting you could buy from any marketeer. The specific designing and compatibility is perfect for a man such as himself, as it was put together by multiple clothing found around multiple systems. The design choice and vast majority of construction is mainly from Old Rebel uniforms and utilities that have been for sale or scavenged from classic wreckages. Even a scavenged [url=http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eRGUmbobNZA/TdLIQPZ2PqI/AAAAAAAAE10/baCc4urFN3Y/s1600/rebelblaster.gif]DH-17[/url] can be found either under his over-layers or stored amongst his vessel.

As for Varan himself, his hair is quite short. Jet-black colouring, of course, and a faint stubble that surrounds his mouth and chin is something more for looks than necessity. His eyes are of a Turquoise shade, mixing between both green and blue glistens. For body structure, Varan isn't exactly the brawn of any situation. His arms show only basic muscling and his strength can be limited, though useless is out of the question. The left arm, however, for the man isn't exactly the normal blend. Underneath the clothing is a cold and metallic [url=http://media.vocativ.com/photos/2015/02/Bionic-Arm-001re23483865915.jpg]Arm[/url], caused by the misfortune of one of his [i]Trips[/i] through endless vacuum. On the same left shoulder is a mild burn mark, though not from Blaster-fire or any sort of weaponry. Very faint cuts lie on his right cheek, though they aren't life-changing like the scars many have in the violent galaxy.

[hr]

[centre][color=0174DF][u]Characteristics[/u][/color][/centre]

[b][color=0174DF]Personality[/color][/b]
Varan's personality is quite surprising. For a man who looks rather experienced in work and dangerous territory, he's actually quite timid which goes against his great intelligence. Even socially and physically, Varan's ability to maintain confidence is bleak. There are many things that can hold back a man, and Varan is sure to have plenty that can sometimes effect certain tasks. In certain conversations of importance, he has a tendency to stutter and hesitate, making his [i]On-The-Dot[/i] decision making quite difficult. As else, his emotions are rather mixed. They can change from cheerful to determined to sorrowful within an instant, and Mood-swings have been common in the past. However, as time builds up with little defeat, tasks that Varan becomes used to eventually becomes something he becomes comfortable with, taking a toll on his little boldness. Time does effect the overall person Varan is, especially with the threat of the empire constantly lurking around every corner of every street or canyon. His confidence, however, isn't at an all time low where he falls useless to everyone in dangerous situations, and can always serve at least some purpose. When it comes to his views on others, Varan's judgement is less planned and rather random. He might feel greatly affectionate for one, but complete hatred for their counterpart. His vigilance towards types of people can be at an all-time high, however there are chances that he sets aside the cautiousness based upon his first judgement of an individual. Individuals who like to take power can easily get Varan's attention, as he is unlikely to take charge of most situations, bar when he's behind the controls of travel. As a side note, the collecting aspect of life, linking to scavenging, can be quite the entertaining event for Varan, seeing as he loves having unique items to gaze at.

If there is one thing, however, that Varan can even say for himself that he is confident and focused on, it has to be piloting. The man loves the art of travelling and that feature of himself has given him the chance to survive longer than he is supposed to. There have been only a few times where his skills were needed, but evidently they paid off quite well, seeing as he is still in one piece...well, sort of.

[b][color=0174DF]Fears & Flaws[/color][/b]

[i]The Descent[/i] - Falling or being involved in any mode of transport that is plummeting downwards has always made him panic. There are times where someone experiences something, that can trigger emotions at specific events...this is his. Seeing the ground thrust towards his own eyes can be a rather frightening sight, one that can be avoided at certain points in time.

[i]Mr Unsociable[/i] - The ideas that Varan can come up with are absolutely life-changing, and with planning they can be some of the most brilliant plans for the situation. However, there's always the thought of disagreement. Varan hates messing up, and when it comes to sharing ideas for dangerous plans, Varan usually keeps his ideas safe and secure with himself. He rarely likes getting others into a deathly situation.

[i]Pi'Lu Turang[/i] - A vast flaw is the seat to his right. The Co-pilot seat. The much needed crew member that is supposed to be by his side thick-and-thin. Problem is, Varan rarely lets anyone even take a seat in the chair. His old Co-pilot, [url=http://orig08.deviantart.net/cffa/f/2013/355/b/3/twi_lek_by_maximpakulov-d6weimw.jpg]Pi'Lu Turang[/url], was a good friend of his and had a large influence on what kind of a person he was. After the incident that occurred during the [i]Naboo Shipment Run[/i], the broken corpse had always had the slight haunting within his mind. That doesn't mean that eventually someone will replace her...

[b][color=0174DF]Talents[/color][/b]

[i]Pilot and a Half[/i] - On his home planet of Utaphau, some described the nervous man to be more than just a pilot. It was as if he were both a single pilot, as well as half of a co-pilot. Literally, there are few shipment types he finds hard to identify, and there are many cockpits the man is familiar with. His out-of-atmosphere movement is almost perfect, whereas his in-atmosphere movement can be rather clunky. 

[i]Control[/i] - Ever since the incident, Varan became a left-handed shooter. It took some getting used to, of course, but eventually it became a useful aspect to his survival. If he has ever had to engage in a [i]Stand-off[/i] situation, the arm of bionics proves to be far quicker and more accurate in terms of handling recoil, aiming and pulling the trigger.

[i]Knowledge[/i] - Through scavenging, you learn a lot. Old Republic wreckages located in the vast chasms of the galaxy, burnt-out Rebel fortifications, old homes to personnel on both fighting fronts...These all give quite some information for the past and present. It even gives him certain things to sell, making a profitable funding for both his survival and ship.

[hr]

[centre][color=0174DF][u][b]History[/b][/u][/color][/centre]

[b][color=0174DF]Backstory[/color][/b]
Utaphau was always a good home for Varan. He had few friends, though good as they were. His family were wealthy enough to survive the harshness of Empire's reign over the galaxy, and made most of this wealth from his Mother's and Father's Workplace. Varan had a lot of time on his hands, obviously. With his Mother and Father, Ki'lo and Nurma, both [i]out[/i] all the time, gave Varan the opportunity to be free and find something he enjoyed. He was about 14 when he had gotten into his first shuttle, eventually using the wealth of his superiors to fund flight training for both [i]in-and-out-of-atmosphere[/i] aviation. Utaphau's sink-hole peaks were lined with trading stations and the all time famous [b][i]'Hyru's Intergalactic Pilot Academy'[/i][/b]. Obviously ran by one of the greatest pilots around, a mandalorian named [i]Hyru Ni'Loota Decompra[/i], it was well funded and provided some of the best training for future pilots. It was Varan's introduction to this facility that led him to meeting Pi'Lu Turang, a Twi'lek wanting to sit in the Co-Pilot seat of some of the best pilots around. Varan personally befriended her, moving himself into the [i]Individual Craft Course[/i]. He had no set future for what he wanted to do with the ability to travel, except maybe explore. That was what made him rather easy to train and excel at. Many of the other students relied only on specification and would only do what they thought would increase their chances for certain roles in the Galaxy. Varan, on the other hand, was capable of letting in all the subjects and tasks he was given, as well as completing them with almost full-flying colours. As time progressed, the bond between Pi'Lu and himself became stronger as both of them began to put each other's full trust into one another's actions, eventually being paired up as a Pilot and Co-pilot crew. The Empire had funded and provided this academy, which had made his parents quite sceptic about continuing the final months of their son's training. It was at that time when upon completion, he received his first vessel. Based upon his results, a simple two seater civilian [url=http://img13.deviantart.net/af83/i/2014/282/6/d/star_wars_custom_corellian_freighter__dlc__by_adamkop-d7zzqo7.jpg]Corellian Star Ship[/url], with a centre cockpit. At first, the two never really left the orbit of Utaphau, with some cautious hearings of the ever-lasting battle between the Empire and the Rebel Alliance.

During the period where Varan was 15 years of age, he received a talk. His Mother and Father sat him down as they discussed what he cannot do with his life in the future, when it came to starship roles. The main concern was that he cannot, and they were seriously bound to get the message across, become an Imperial Pilot. Even though he hadn't of thought of becoming one, he continued to ask them why it concerned them so much, especially when they see little of each other then. This lead to the confession and discovery of where his Parents received their money and well-being...The Rebel Alliance. Now it came to a shock, of course, but they were keen on giving him something before they were due to leave for a two week period. It was a Utility belt. One that stretched across the chest from shoulder to hip. Durable, comfortable and capable of holding many needed things, it seemed like the perfect gift. A sort of late Birthday present, as such. As they left, he began to wear it more often as part of his standard attire. The two parents were off to Yavin 4 for their [i]Important Call-In.[/i] As as history will explain, some things were just never going to go well. The siege and pillage of Yavin 4, the destruction of the Rebel Alliance, left a boy mentally crippled and distraught at the news of his Mother's death. His father's whereabouts were uncertain, as certain Squadrons of Y-Wing Bombers, as he learnt of his Father's gunner position within the Rebel alliance and his mother's ground unit-positioning, fled from the scene. Their tracking communications with their FOB on Yavin 4 were turned off to allow them to escape moderately unnoticed, and their fate was left lost in the crumbling ruins of the Alliance. For another 2 Years, Varan waited. He waited for the confidence. He would scavenge his parent's old and abandoned room, seeing as he was accepted as an age that could take care of himself, making a small living from delivering items to local imperial flagships and adjacent systems. Eventually, he came across a inherited stash underneath the flooring of his room. It was labelled: [b][i]'For when we fall in battle...'[/i][/b]. Inside was enough Credits to fulfil the dreams of Varan, eventually bringing the Box with himself and purchasing his Current Vessel, a Corellian Transport and Escort Freighter known as the [b][url=http://naked-science.ru/sites/default/files/images/8_184.jpg]Valiant Retribution.[/url][/b] This was a fast-manoeuvrable ship, capable of defending whilst outrunning others of its kind if it contained the correct pilot. Once he purchased the ship, at the age of 18, he set out to convince Pi'Lu to come with him, as he felt his purpose on Utaphau was something of the past. After days of begging, she finally agreed, due to the sympathy of his life and turnout in events. Her as his Co-Pilot, the two set out to leave Utaphau's Sink-Hole cities for good...to stay together as friends for the life ahead.

For 3 Years, they travelled. It was around their first year within the system travelling that they made a name for themselves, taking part in small-scale races and slowly climbing the ranks of fame amongst the non-governmental authorities. This caught the attention of a Scavenging Cartel, smaller in scale compared to the Hutt, known as [i]Ou'Loia[/i]. They mentioned them wanting a crew to simply commit to their needs, without the violent pressure of the Hutt Cartel. It was a promising offer, and Varan accepted. Over time, they were acquainted with more of the Cartel, becoming their lead Freighter for fast-paced transport. Their missions were relatively safe, and the pay was greatly appreciated. Over-time, Varan and Pi'Lu modified their ship, giving it frontal defences so the Pilot could also participate in any raids from gangs. They purchased weaponry for handheld encounters, and even modified their outfitting based on what they could scavenge. The ship became faster, stronger and more capable of withstanding fatal attacks from the gangs that occasionally invaded. That was when they received a job from their authorities. Their ship was apparently [i]'Capable of fulfilling a job we've been at for years'[/i]. There was a small abandoned settlement on the Planet of Naboo, where foretold files from the [i]Old Rebel Alliance[/i] were still in shape. They had been trying to get these for a good few years, knowing that they would sell for an immense price, and knew it had remained incognito for quite some time. However, recently the Imperials had started destroying more files, making them rarer and more priceless. The attention to the Naboo files were drawn by more gangs and cartels. The two were to be sent and to try and retrieve the files for selling before the other Cartels knew where they exactly were. Seemed simple, yet risky. Varan was a bit sceptic at first, but Pi'Lu's wisdom convinced him to accept it. They were handed more crew members for that specific job, knowing it could end badly if the two were to just go alone, barely armed for when they exited their ship.

During the job, they didn't even get remotely far into the Planet's atmosphere when something went wrong. Everything seemed normal, the two on the controls flying as it nothing was going wrong. When the top and bottom gunners began to call for shots, other Cartels began to move in. It was a race, indeed, but they had no idea how long the race was going to last for themselves. Within seconds, an overwhelming pulse jammed their controls, sending them in a hurtling manner. For minutes, Varan would watch the ground get closer and closer as they entered the atmosphere, going faster and faster. The sirens would roar, the crew in the back would panic. There was the slightest bit of power left in the shuttle, allowing them to somewhat make a controllable glide. The glide wasn't good enough, however, and the speed kept going. They braced the little power they had left, cruising at a 5° angle, into the shielding, hoping their ship would explode or tear apart on impact. A field, not so far from the City, slammed into the front underside. Pain and blurred visions were the only thing Varan experienced. It was extremely difficult to even identify what was going on. The final slam made him see black, as if he were just executed...Hours must've passed before he awoke. The thing that awoke him was the flash of light, a Recovery Droid team obviously being sent from the Imperial command over Naboo. As they began to attempt removing him from his chair, he turned to see the horrors. A shard of shrapnel, possibly torn up from the ship's impact, was presented as a knife, going straight through Pi'Lu. Her blood must've stopped dripping, as there were just dry patches of liquid on her chair, body and cockpit interior. As the jammed belt was loosened, great pain interrupted him from his grief over his companion, as he looked leftwards, only there to see a Phantom Pain. His Left arm...it was on the floor...it was pale and lifeless, detached from his own shoulder. Only a little stub remained on his left shoulder, putting something to wiggle as he struggled in panic. The shock he was presented with was left behind, as he was dragged away from the ship...

It was a good few months that he stayed in a Naboo Hospital. The Naboo staff had the technology, which apparently took a good few attempts to convince the Imperials to fund, to build an arm of pure bionics, unfortunately not bringing back the sense of touch but movement instead. Everything felt weird. He could move it, it was fully functional, but it still couldn't feel anything except the emptiness of his real flesh and bone [i][The arm would've been based around the same style and type as the one Luke Skywalker would've had, if the Rebellion weren't crushed][/i]. During the next month that he remained getting used to himself, he attended a funeral for the crew, who still weren't identified as Cartel members, as well as his long-lost friend. The ship, overtime, was repaired in a nearby ship-recovery dock on the outskirts of the city. He learnt overtime that the reason he hadn't bled out from his arm's separation was because of the droids themselves having to remove it just before he awoke, allowing them to actually free him from the shrapnel he was trapped beneath. Soon enough, as soon as he imagined he was flight ready, a message from the Cartel came, asking him to come back after the sorrowful disaster. Obviously, he denied it...and was soon to become a scavenger, lonesome and quiet. He would occasionally hire a gunner or two to support him when travelling into certain lands, however he never really had a proper crew. This went on for three more years.

Recently, he was arrested for stealing and gaining the possession of Old Republican files and holotapes, giving him a small-petty theft charge that led him to being taken to Tatooine, along with those he would likely come across for the future ahead...
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[center][b][color=fff200]Ielasdiko[/color] - [color=00a651]Alive[/color][/b][/center]
[hider=Ielasdiko]

[center][b]Ielasdiko[/b]
[img]http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3635/4555115048_1c69402ce8_o.jpg[/img][/center]
[hr]

[color=violet][u]Introduction[/u][/color]

[b][color=violet]Full Name:[/color][/b] Ielasdiko

[b][color=violet]Age:[/color][/b] 29

[b][color=violet]Species:[/color][/b] Twi'Lek

[b][color=violet]Gender:[/color][/b] Female

[b][color=violet]Force Sensitive:[/color][/b] Yes.

[color=violet][u]Appearance[/u][/color]

[b][color=violet]Description:[/color][/b]
Ielasdiko or Iela to her friends stands 1.8 meters, her skin blue her eyes as well. She is considered quite beautiful, this is something she knows and often uses to her advantage. She has tattoos on parts of her body, they are located on her left lekku, chest and hips. Her figure is in shape from consistent exercise.

Like many other female Twi'leks she wears form fitting clothing which accentuates her feminity. Her most common choice from her wardrobe is a tough leather jacket over a croptop with tight leather pants and hard leather boots. Though her clothing choices vary with her jobs, that's what she prefers to wear.

[color=violet][u]Characteristics[/u][/color]

[b][color=violet]Personality[/color][/b]
A very confident woman, Iela isn't exactly the most friendly Twi'lek and not the easiest person to get along with. She'll often shoot off remarks or threats to those that displease her. Her profession as an assassin does not allow her to trust very many people, she can't afford to do it or else she may risk her own safety. She doesn't have many real friends, and doesn't really try to make any unless they give her some advantage. She is not socially inept, and can act quite charming when she needs to. She'll spin her words in a way to make someone believe she is being genuine. 

She's not above torture or getting her hands dirty, whatever gets her paid and the job done is something she'll consider. Cold blooded murder is something she does as an occupation, she has no qualms with killing, though she dislikes doing it needlessly. Just randomly butchering people for no reason is something that bores her. She knows that she is a wanted criminal, and has no issue with making a full retreat if the situation goes bad. Saving her own skin is a top priority to her, just above making credits. She's worked with all kinds of criminal filth and is used to dealing with them.

[b][color=violet]Fears & Flaws[/color][/b]
Iela has a fear of intimacy, actually giving people her honest emotions and thoughts as well as letting them get too close to her. Her few romantic relationships have ended in disaster, her partners dead because she let it become known that they were close to her. Physical and emotional abuse by her slave owner in her younger years also accentuate this fear. She also is scared of suffocation, having seen it happen to others, it's not the way she wants to go out, not being able to breath for extended periods will often cause her to panic.

Her personality is one of her largest flaws, mean to many she does not make friends easily. This has gotten her into bad situations before. She also tends to show sadism, drawing pleasure from those that hurt her in intense pain. Her status as an assassin is a source of infamy to those that know what she is. The fact that she kills people, almost anyone for money is enough to automatically cause mistrust and disgust.

She's not the strongest person physically, while capable of fights at close quarters combat she uses her agility and flexibility, not her strength. She'll lose just about every wrestling match. The two brain tails she possesses are extremely sensitive, pain inflicted to them will harm Iela greatly. Yanking them hard enough could knock her right out.

[b][color=violet]Talents[/color][/b]
Markswoman: Iela is accurate with blasters and best with the semi automatic variety. Whether that be a long range rifle or a trusty sidearm she can hit targets with great accuracy. She's not superhuman, but she is damn good with a blaster.

Assassin: She knows how to kill someone in more ways than just shooting them. Extremely capable at brewing poisons, she knows where to stick them in someone to turn them into a lifeless corpse the quickest. Her skills as an assassin also extend to the field of torture, give her a knife and she'll be able to make someone tell her their life story, with every little detail.

Twi'lek charm: Her race is well know for their beauty and seductiveness, Iela is no different. She prefers her assassination targets to be men as they are much easy to twist and seduce. Those that are interested in her fall the quickest before her. 

[color=violet][u]History[/u][/color]

[b][color=violet]Backstory[/color][/b]
Ielasdiko was born on the Twi'lek homeworld of Ryloth, an only child of two poor parents. She didn't have much growing up, it annoyed her and is part of the reason she follows the credit flow so greatly, she never wants to be that poor again. Her father was an alcoholic who often beat his wife, Iela's mother. Her mother taught her how to dance, Iela became quite good at it. She hated her father, he never struck Iela but said cruel things to her on an almost daily basis as she got older. She wondered why until she was put up for slave trade right after hitting maturity at fifteen.

It was not a new thing on Ryloth, the slave trade, Iela had seen her friends and neighbors get sold off for a variety of reasons. There was a normality to it, and some Twi'leks like her parents engaged in it willingly. It was a way for them to get their children off their homeworld, the galaxy could be a wonderful place for a talented Twi'lek. She eventually got over being sold as a slave, understanding that it helped both her and her parents.

Iela was sold to a wealthy human merchant, Alej Graell, he was more than three times her age and she never liked him. Though she was lucky in the sense that he had bought her over one of the Hutts or crime lords, their dealings with Twi'lek girls well known amongst her people. Alej was smitten with Iela as soon as he saw her, he bought her as a consort, a beautiful piece of eye candy he could strut around and show off to everyone. He peppered her with gifts, trying to make her love him too. She never did, he was a dishonest merchant, ripped off almost everyone he dealt with.

He got angry at this and hit her like her father did to her mother. Never hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to make the young girl cry out in pain. This stopped over time as Iela realized she would have to act like she returned his feelings. She slept with him, despite how disgusting it made her feel, it was better than the beatings or verbal insults he would hurl at her. He would dance for him too, make him feel like she cared.

For almost five years she was Alej's property, this changed after a trip to Coruscant in which she encountered an assassin who was on his trail. The mmerchant had burnt the wrong man, and now his life was up for grabs. While on Coruscant Alej made sure he was safe, he surrounded himself with an entourage of bodyguards. Iela's first encounter with the bounty hunter was in the marketplace when she noticed someone in plain clothes drawing a blaster as Alej did his dealings. She pushed it down with her hand, out of sight of Alej or his guards. 

She gave the hunter advice, told him about Alej's security, how she was his forced consort, how she wanted him dead too. Before she was forced to follow along with her master the assassin made her an offer, if she killed the man he would cut her 25% of the payment. Iela had nothing to lose and agreed, the man slipping her a vial of poison before her master pulled her along.

That night before Alej came into bed with his consort she slipped the poison into his wine. It was slow acting, the assassin said it would take a few hours then cause symptoms similar to a heart attack. The merchant drank what would be his final glass of wine, then fell asleep next to Iela. When she awoke the next morning he was dead, she let out a genuine sounding scream of terror. A guard burst into the room to find Alej dead, Iela was released from his service after death, she was never considered for poisoning her husband, speaking of how much she loved the man and how he pampered her with gifts.

The next day a credit chip arrived in Iela's possession as it was promised. She would seek out the assassin, catching him before he left world. Iela would follow him to his next world, having no idea where to go next. She would spent several weeks with him as he taught her how some of his tricks, mainly how to fire a blaster and use poisons. At first she disliked the idea of becoming like the man, but there was money in it, something she craved. 

She left his company and went her own way. Iela would enter the criminal underworld, taking up jobs to kill for payment. She got better at it with each kill, mistakes were made along the way. The largest being her capture at the hands of one of the men who she was paid to kill. He beat her badly, abused her, like Alej did. She managed to escape after putting a knife in his neck, though the encounter taught her a lesson to be more careful.

Iela made a name for herself, credits followed and she had made a nice life for herself. Enough money to buy herself a ship, weapons and the ability to pick and chose jobs as they came. She took a particularly high paying job, the killing of an Imperial office on Tatooine. It was an incredibly risky one, the Empire was not something to take lightly, but she was confident as always. 

She seeked the man out, finding him in the wastes then took him out at long range. One blaster bolt to the skull. Unfortunately the man's Stormtroopers were in the area, as Iela bolted away on her speeder the Imperials were on her. They caught her, and she was imprisoned, the charges against her severe as her identity was revealed in her detainment. She was in a bleak situation.

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