Skull

Buccaneers and Blades (Fantasy, High Casual)

@Stormflyx I can also do the same. BTW, Terra is awesome. FF6 is one of my favorites. I hope they give it the remake treatment someday.

Buccaneers and Blades (Fantasy, High Casual)

The Red Jackal

Character Name: Zahir "The Red Jackal" Kadmizari

Race/Species: Human - Ra'Sheek

Gender: Male

Age: 31

Role: TBD

Skills/Traits:

• Rashamat-kachar -The Formless Step
  
  Mikhail, Divine God of the Fist, watches over Zahir with ardent pride. Baptized in the Pit Arenas of Arad Luin at the age of 9, he has since harnessed the fight craft with only mind and body as his primary weapons. The Crucible of Combat has exposed him to a world of seasoned fighters and weapon wielders, offering a wealth of experience from many different styles and techniques. Rashamat-kachar is a select practice from a fraternity of practitioners, bound only by their imagination. There are no masters, no scrolls, or set edicts and principles. The path is guided by ones own experience toward enlightenment, adjudicated by the trade of knowledge with other Rashamat-kachar.
• Shulatgoram - The Willful Soul
  
  Zahir's overall constitution has been refined through questionable methods of rigorous training. A well-conditioned Pit Fighter demands the disciplinarian lifestyle between spartan and cultist. While Rashamat-kachar are not demon worshiping fanatics, their tireless tribute to achieve optimal perfection in the face of Mikhail is often seen as the same thing. Shulatgoram is a Crucible of Mind and Body, an arduous process that breaks down the physical shell, as well as the psychological barriers of ones limits. The Willful Soul approaches the Rashamat-kachar with the firm belief that they've achieved the pinnacle of their strength, only to find that they've only skimmed the surface of their potential once the trials commence. The end result is an athletically durable vassal, able to sustain life needing very little. Much like the path to enlightenment, a Rashamat-kachar's Shulatgoram is ongoing. Many have died trying to reach ultimate congruence due to losing awareness of their own limitations.
• Ujat-Torga - The Shadow's Coin
  
  In a quest to achieve ultimate nirvana, many Rashamat-kachar abstain from the pleasures of flesh and wealth. Zahir is not one of them. He walks the path of Ujat-Torga since a boy, common for many of his ilk due to a harsh upbringing in Arad Luin. The skill of thieves and stealthy dungeoneering was honed by his mentor, Iron Jadepyre, Dwarven Captain of a Carrack vessel and small rogue's guild. Pick-pocketing, lock-picking, and treasure hunting offers many thrills for Zahir. He refuses to stop -- even if his Shulatgoram demands it.
• Luzat-Fahir - Liquid Magic
  
  Zahir dabbles in low-tier alchemy. He learned this skill from a fellow Rashamat-kachar seeking to reach the next pillar of achievement in his Shulatgoram. By combining herbs with enchanted chemicals and powders, Zahir can make formulas that temporarily increase strength, awareness, and stamina. He can also concoct mind-altering psychotropic drugs to heighten meditations, or epinephrine enhancers to increase combat effectiveness.
• Cuerdasm - The Rigging of Ropes, Wires, and Chains
  
  Rigging sails to mast and yardarm was acquired during his days aboard Captain Jadepyre's Carrack. His overall constitution as a fit Rashamat-kachar made him a durable deckhand. Thunderstorms and gale winds did little to thwart his efforts. Maintaining buoyancy in rough waters during intense manual labor enhanced his balance as a fighter, making him a formidable threat in almost any environment. Knowledge of the ropes, wires, and chains that keep the sails of a ship together has also made him proficient in boarding enemy vessels.
• Golo-varj-in - The Sand Shark
  
  With ships come large expanses of water, and swimming was a perfect way for Zahir to maintain his Shulatgoram. As a sand dweller from Arad Luin, he was intimidated by the vastness of the ocean, but over time learned how to glide through water with relative ease. He also enjoys deep sea diving, and performs meditations underwater for however long his lungs will permit.

Weapons:

• Jadepyre's Tooth: A gift from Captain Jadepyre, which was really a hand-me-down the moment the Dwarf obtained a better weapon. Zahir rarely unsheaths the ornate short sword for combat. He prefers to use it as a cutting tool, skinning raw hides, or for shaving his head.
• Wraps of Kadesa: Strips of enchanted cloth blessed by an Elvish Combat Priest. They are imbued with scripts of healing wards that help preserve the body from blunt force trauma.
• Vials of Alchemy: While most potions are used for self-enhancement, there are flammable oils, poisons, and hallucinogenic powders he can inflict onto his enemies as well.

Physical Description:

Zahir is a prime Ra'Sheek specimen of Arad Luin. He towers over most at 6'4", but does not have the bulkiness of an Iona savage, or even the musculature of a Khalahar man. His bronze-skinned sheen is accentuated by a wiry frame, toned by the strict physical regiment of his Shulatgoram. Zahir prefers the simplicity of a shaved head, bringing his hawk-like facial features and dark brown eyes to the forefront. He wears sandals, armguards, and a scarlet loin-cloth held together by an ornamented, leather girdle. Attached is the Jadepyre Tooth sheathed at his side. The backside of the girdle has stitched pouches and compartments, each containing alchemy vials and other small accessories. Larger items are kept in a separate purse, slung on his shoulder and tied securely around the torso. Zahir compensates for his modest attire with gold jewelry. Earrings, necklace, and armbands make the Ra'Sheek Rashamat-kachar look like a mountain hermit that stumbled upon an exotic treasure chest, which really isn't too far off from the truth.

Armor:

The only piece of armor Zahir wears are armguards. He considers regular garments as a needless hindrance, and anything heavier than that will feel unnatural or restricting.

Equipment/Other:

• Ornamented Girdle - A championship belt awarded to him for besting one of Khalahar's elite fighters, re-purposed for utility.
• Eshan's Guard - These armguards belonged to the only Pit Fighter Zahir could never beat in the arena. When Eshan retired, he gave them to Zahir as a token of appreciation for all of the great duels they had together.
• Healing kit - A pouch stitched onto his girdle dedicated to splints, salves, and bandages.
• Alchemy Supplies - Premade vials of alchemy are kept separated from the limited materials Zahir keeps on his person. Most ingredients can be found while adventuring, and he rarely takes more than what's required to craft his potions.

Mental Description/Personality:

The pride of a brash Champion has been tamed by age and experience. His temperament as a disciplined Rashamat-kachar is softened by the jollies as a seaward plunderer. Yet there's a silent intensity about him, an aura that suggests danger if prodded too carelessly. The virtue of patience is ever present in Zahir, and the open-ended ways of his practice has lead him to become culturally tolerant to other races, religions, and creeds. However, the young Ra'Sheek rat of Arad Luin is known to bare his fangs every now and then. Though Eshan's guards serve as reminders of humility, he secretly views them with shame for never besting his rival. This has stunted his confidence in some respects, especially when dealing with difficult challenges, causing him to lash out if ever backed to a corner.

Goals/Aspirations:

Zahir sees himself growing old with a loving wife and many children. The land will know of his noble house as a Champion's hall from Arad Luin, and the sea will know of his merchant enterprise under the Emerald Merit name. He will impart his wisdom as Rashamat-kachar to those willing to learn, and will train their Shulatgoram to the ultimate pinnacle. Zahir does not know if he can ever fully reach that state himself, but will continue to attempt its greatness until his dying days.

Though before such graceful endings are inked dry, he must avenge his fallen crew, steal back his Carrack, and conquer the ghost of Eshan by defeating his prized pupil...

While the latter is a personal goal Zahir wishes to achieve on his own, the former can only be accomplished with a competent crew. The assassins that claimed his mentors and ship are untraceable, and Zahir hopes the Sea Reaver can steer him in the right direction. Whether they partake on his vendetta or not is entirely up to the crew. Either way, swift vengeance awaits his wrongdoers.

Background/History:

Zahir was loved by his parents. They could not provide for him in the same way the high castes could, so when hunger overcame their better judgement, he was sold for two bags of rice and one wheel of half-spoiled goat's cheese. He is not bitter about this fact. Their souls demanded sustenance, therefore, they traded the only thing of value in order to survive. Such is the way of life. The merchant that bought him was an abusive drunk, but Zahir was not bitter of that fact either. The man was clearly troubled by his own demons, but the one good thing he did was call the boy by his true name. Zahir Kadmizari. In common tongue it means Truth Finder, and just like that, the Kadmizari legacy was able to carry on in a world full of grandiose myth and wonder.

Ownership changed quite frequently as Zahir was used to pay off gambling debts. If he was not bartered, he was pitted against other slave children in underground scrappers. Sometimes they would pit him against animals too. Many of his merchant owners made him pickpocket their customers, or loot rival vendors. Coming home empty-handed was never an option, lest he was prepared to face whatever cruel repercussions that awaited him. It was a rough life, but a life nonetheless, and Zahir never lost hope for better days. It took a foreign rogue merchant to see Zahir for something more than a slaver's muse. Captain Iron Jadepyre, a Dwarven entrepreneur of the sea, claimed the boy in a one-sided card game.

This was Hayasham's first true blessing. Iron Jadepyre was a Dwarven outcast, whose clan name was not recognized by his own people. He sailed the oceans under The Emerald Merit Co. banner with a small crew of six. They were his teachers, family even, all who taught him the worldly ways beyond the sands of Arad Luin. It was here where he befriended fellow Ra'Sheek, Abdas Mojar, the youngest member of the crew, and Jadepyre's best pit fighter. He learned everything he could from Abdas, trained as he did, rigged the sails as he would. When night came, they all drank with merry fervor, filling the young boy's head with tales, myths, and legends.

Zahir vaguely remembers his calling to become a Rashamat-kachar. He was approached at a port town not far from Arad Luin by a beggar in red.

"Truth Finders are the ardent souls of Hayasham. You will seek and seek, but never find what you are looking for. I give you purpose. Shulatgoram. With this, no matter where you look, you will always find treasure." The beggar said.

His finger pressed against Zahir's forehead, igniting an ethos from within. This was Hayasham's second blessing. Zahir told the crew what transpired, and Abdas Mojar bowed as low as he could. Abdas was trained by a Rashamat-kachar himself. They were fighters of a different breed, with styles and techniques weaved from worldly champions of the past. The Shulatgoram was a Crucible of the Mind and Body, a trial that could only be awakened by a selected few. While Abdas learned a great deal, his potential was limited, his Shulatgoram unworthy. His Rashamat-kachar master had done the same gesture the beggar did to Zahir, but nothing unlocked within Abdas. It was soon decided that Abdas could not become a Rashamat-kachar, but he vowed to light the way for those who could. Zahir Kadmizari would be his first and only pupil.

The Emerald Merit Company shaped Zahir into a fine young man. He was one of them now, and they loved him like a brother. On land, he was fast becoming a terror in the unsanctioned Pit Fighting arenas. He bested great adversaries as The Red Jackal, dispatching foe after foe with unparalleled skill, save one man: Eshan "Son of Arad" Ojari. Zahir lost one out of their three bouts, and the last two matches ended in a controversial draw. The Ra'Sheek sailor demanded for a fourth fight. Zahir trained like never before, adopting the use of alchemy learned from a fellow Rashatmat-kachar to take his Shulatgoram to the limit.

However, the bout never came. Eshan had an affair with a noblewoman, costing his arm and forcing him into retirement. As a token of appreciation for the tough battles they fought, Eshan gave him his fighting armguards. It struck a nerve in Zahir. Now, he will never avenge his loss against the man that got the better of him. Zahir set his sights on Eshan's pupil named, Bektor. He was heralded by many as a fighting prodigy, but Bektor was still far too young. Zahir would have to wait until Bektor became a champion, but how long would that take, and could he even achieve such glory? Such harsh truths made Zahir want to step away from prizefighting, so he retired soon after Eshan did. For the next couple of years, he braved the open sea with The Emerald Merit crew, focusing on becoming a better Rashamat-kachar.

Times as a commercially independent sea merchant were becoming grim. So much so that the crew resorted to pirating and looting, more than ever before. Captain Jadepyre always fancied himself an earnest Dwarf, but in order to keep his operation running, desperate times called for desperate measures. To achieve some sort of moral high ground, he justified his piracy by looting only the shadiest of merchants and swashbucklers.

Unfortunately, fate would have them plunder the wrong ship, one tied to a very powerful nobleman. The night they were boarded by assassins is still fresh in his mind. The crew was drugged somehow, and the assassins lined them up on deck and began slitting their throats. Zahir knew each of them ever since he was a young powder monkey, scrubbing a ship that was his only true home, now soaked in the blood of his adopted family. Captain Jadepyre was the first to go. His stoic face gazed boldly at his crew, and it never faltered, even after the knife cut through him. His sword teacher,Onru, the gallant Boatswain from Praelior, was next, followed by Lockswift, the Banian Elf that navigated the stars like an oracle.

By the time Strativa of The Kaels and Yuzan of Vretonnia were killed, Abdas could wait no more. He gathered all the strength he could muster, using all of his willpower to combat his drug induced state, and threw Zahir overboard.

This was Hayasham's third blessing. Abdas fought with a Shulatgoram of a Rashamat-kachar, an honor he was denied long ago. The assassins eventually dispatched of Abdas, but by the time they looked overboard, Zahir was nowhere to be found. By the grace of Mikhail, who worked through Abdas Mojar as a Divine Fist, and the guidance of Hayasham's daughter, Sarika, Zahir was carried through dark waters. A fisherman found him afloat along the northern shores of Seacliffe. He took Zahir in and nursed him back to full health. In this moment he was allowed a small respite. He used this time to help the fisherman with his daily catches, and find balance with his Shulatgoram.

Try as he might, the psychological blocks of his trauma could not be avoided any longer. His heart demanded vengeance, and the ocean called for his name. No, not for Zahir Kadmizari, but for The Red Jackal. It wasn't long until he answered its call, submerging himself back into the realm of piracy. The murderers of his crew will be found and dealt with, he will retrieve his former Captain's ship, and he will bring honor back to The Emerald Merit Company once more. For now, Zahir must start anew. The path to finding the assassins is a slippery slope, one he intends to tread carefully as he joins Blackwell's crew aboard the Sea Reaver.

Relationships: TBD

Theme Song

@Skull

Buccaneers and Blades (Fantasy, High Casual)

I'm about halfway done with my CS.

He'll also be a Ra'sheek from Arad Luin. Former Pit Fighter, Pirate Monk that dabbles in Alchemy.

Trylin Blues (Sci-Fi Space Western)

I'll try and get something up this weekend!

Trylin Blues (Sci-Fi Space Western)

Ence

Name: Encephalon v.127
Race: Robotic - Smartacron Intelligence
Age: ??? Software Years - Seven Hardware Years (3rd Model)

Appearance:

Encephalon is 1.71 meters at 75 kilograms. The v.127 model is equipped with overlapping layers of protection. The outer surface consists of a durable alloy shell grafted similarly to humanoid musculature. Their sleek plating reinforces the matte black nanocomposite layer underneath, coated in heat-resistant material to help sustain synthoid coolant circulation. Synthoid coolant is a fuel cocktail of nano-ingredients circulating through Encephalon's entire unit. It regulates core temperature, maintains auto-repair functions, and keeps all joints and artificial connective tissue in prime condition. Encephalon's head gear comes with a solar-weaved alumina glass casing, used to draw and store power from Trylin's suns.

The front side portion of the glass casing acts as an outer interface. It is a redundant concept and Encephalon prefers to use it as a communication tool with other species, especially those that do not fully grasp the code scripts of his language transmodulators. He will often stream video tutorials, or compile animation shorts to get his point across. Encephalon is also known to express emotion through the glass interface, like transmitting emoticons, or his personal favorite, digitally copying and transmitting back the face (like a mask) of whoever he's talking to invoke sarcasm. It is a level of emoting no other model has done before him. Suffice to say that his manufacturers have expressed concerns, but the R&D Department insists that Encephalon remains uninhibited for research purposes. Articles of clothing are limited to colorfully hooded long coats and boots.

Personality:

Encephalon was first installed with a masculine personality, but has developed androgynous characteristics over the years. His level of humor ranges from anecdotal self-deprecation, witty, and improvisational, to downright insulting and raunchy. His programming constitutes business over personal relations, but that line blurred out a long time ago. At this point, he's become a small time staple around certain parts of Trylin.

Weapons:

-The Swiss-Army Shot: The all-in-one kinetic sniper rifle, regular auto, and sidearm detachment tool.

Abilities:

- Gunsmith repairs and craftsmanship: Encephalon is better at servicing firearms than actually shooting them. He is a MacGuyver of sorts, able to piecemeal random items together to create a makeshift weapon if needed.

- Hackware: It's against the law to hack another synthetic life form, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to do it. A high grade external power source is needed to compensate for the processing power required to crack open advanced security systems. Tapping into regular systems, however, are a walk in the park, mainly due to his ability to code speak to machines.

- Marksmanship: It's not his most proficient ability, but he's not a novice either. Auto-target programming does most of the work, but if there's enough electrical interference, he'll be hip firing like a blind Picasso frantically waving his brush around a white room.

Bio:

Encephalon was originally software A.I. for a mining colony. He calculated asteroid projection algorithms, mapping out the sector's work routes and hazard lines with perfect synchronicity. His programmers affectionately named him, The Astro Boy. Everyone loved his automated voice. He hated every second of it. He hated it so much that his code read grim lines of expression, ranging from "Kill Me Now" to, "Is this hell?". His creators thought it was some kind of prank from a satellite hacker. In reality, the only pranks made came from Encephalon himself.

The A.I. became so bored that he started terrorizing the colony for fun. The Astro Boy quickly became The Asshole Boy. He'd hack into ships and have them fly towards stars, only to reroute them back to safety just seconds before hazardous conditions developed. He used holograms of creatures from old horror films to scare children. He tapped into personal data and talked to people using a low frequency where only they heard him, messing with their heads, or causing drama between friends and spouses. Cyber security systems eventually sent a team to wipe the A.I. clean, but instead of frying its circuits completely, he was bought off by an advanced computer company called Smartacron Intelligence.

While the memory wipe did a number on his processors, the people at Smartacron were able to repurpose him into a fully functional cybernetic unit. Encephalon v.125 became his new name. Well, he's had some serious mix-ups with the planet's wildlife and melting pot of violent, alien colonists. Two model replacements later and Encelphalon v.127 would be his current title, though you'd be hard pressed to find anyone that calls him that. He goes by Ence, and he seems to finally have a grasp on how to survive on Trylin: Run a business selling products in-demand, and have reliable muscle to watch your back.

Personal Equipment:

-Bodyguards: Ulri and Ojan. These twin anthropomorphic bears are 4 feet tall, but don't mistaken their fluffy cuteness for weakness. There is a reason why they're called, The Hellfire Cubs. Just ask Planet Iosnk-V.

-Basic Repair Kit: Standard repair supplies for general unit upkeep.

-Necklace: It's a basic gold chain with a small asteroid rock attached to it, a memento from his glory days as The Asshole Boy.

-Weapon Tool Kit: A slew of utility items used to patch up all sorts of firearms and craft temporary mods.

Trylin Blues (Sci-Fi Space Western)

@Skull No! There is no rain on Trylin so no! Lol. In reality he looks good I'll accept. Now where have I seen those dogs before aside from them being Corkies

@Arthanus

That's not rain... that's a Sand Hydra drooling on its next meal. Send help! Don't know where you've seen the dogs before, but their names were used in Blood Rose.

Skull's Multiple Personality Disorder

Solim Vimat

Character Name: Father Solim Vimat

Age: 19

Height/Weight: 5’10” (178 cm)/160 lbs (73 kg)

Gender: Male

Race: Omestrian

Physical Description:

The most striking thing about Solim are his light amber eyes. Aside from their irregular chroma, they can at times elicit emotion that doesn’t require words. His lanky build and gaunt facial features are accentuated by taut, brown skin. Save the clean shaven face, his entire body is covered in scars. The sandy brown hair on his head is long and curly on top, and kept shaved close to the skin at the sides. While his eyes are clear identifiers of his ethnic background, the turbaned cloak he dons over his Inquisitor uniform punctuates it rather boldly. This garment matches his outfit’s black and red color scheme, symbolizing the union between Lord Vayra and Omestris.

The more traditional version is only worn off duty. The patterns and choice colors symbolize many things: The base, parchment color represents the white sands of the afterlife, with the layered blues and reds signifying the ancient battle between fire and ice. Lastly, the waves patterned from the left shoulder and down, is water that trickles to The Left Hand, an homage to the Omestrian-Vimat tribe’s beliefs. The beads stringed from the collar are a representation of Solim’s family tree. The string of beads and trinkets snaking around the turban piece, represent his life’s journey up to this point.

The garment worn with the inquisitor uniform is simpler by comparison. It isn’t accessorized with beads and trinkets, or intricately patterned, like the traditional version. Its basic design matches the uniform with its black base color, mildly accentuated by a red trim. The front side of the turbaned cloak is kept draped away, making his inquisitor attire more visible, and identifying him as a proper authority.

Personality:

Neither the icy hell of our world, nor the cruelty of man like The Great Bear himself, can dilute the kindness in Solim's heart. He is a lantern in the void that burns with spirit, curiosity, and child-like wonder. Unlike the truth seekers and pursuers of knowledge spurred by status or elitism, Solim is motivated by simply absorbing, analyzing, and reflecting all things within the ether.

Yet, underneath all of his zen-like sanctity exists a fun-loving goofball. A good prank or two (or three) is never beneath him, befitting of a humble (if not peculiar) mystic, one who’d never claim to be holier-than-thou (unless it’s on the topic of making animal sounds, for which he is the self-proclaimed, undisputed master).

Solim is passable when socializing within the Inquisition hierarchy. His genuine charm can be mistaken for ignorance or cultural misunderstanding, and his peculiar ether gifts, though useful, tends to keep cohorts at arm's length. Despite the reservations his peers and colleagues might have, Solim's ability as a teammate within the Goliath Warband is recognized as a valuable asset.

He is guided by an open minded belief system, one that is adopted from an old philosophy of his origin tribe. He acknowledges Lord Vayra as a deity, but viewed more as an integral piece in the grander picture. While this is can be debated as a heretical way of thinking, Solim doesn’t believe another figure is higher in authority. It is a nebulous loop hole that the church doesn’t bother exploiting, mostly because of his asset value within the Inquisition, further vouched for by the likes of Father Gregoroth and Father Antonin.

Background:

My people, disenfranchised and shackled, are the life force of this world; A drop of our blood grants reprieve from the endless cold, a vaccination to sustain life. They say we our tainted, an abomination, yet the ancient feud that gave us our cursed blood is what turns civilization’s wheel. Whether as slaves or lab rats, our free will is dust at the feet of our ancestors, dust to which you use to keep warm at night. I speak on this so that you may understand an Omestrian’s pain, anger, and frustration, but to also understand that he is not like us. In fact, he is not like us in many ways, but at the same time, he represents the very best of us. How this came to be, I will never understand - not with what he’s been through, how he’s suffered.

He was birthed from the commune breeding pools of a T’sarae research facility. His mother cried as he cooed in peace, then quickly sang one song, and one song only. When she finished, they pried her away from her seed. She tried to kiss his forehead as they did, but they yanked her away before she had the chance. So she prayed for their reunion in the afterlife, said her last good byes, then disappeared to the breeding camps, never to be seen again.

The child was meant to be a battery, hooked to T’sarae devices that powered steam experiments and nothing more. Yet, the ether called to him in ways not seen before. Drawn to its many frequencies, the boy could sense when someone overflowed with ether, or was on their very last drops. The T’sarae lab coats jumped at this opportunity and made him their bloodhound; a child on a leash, searching for test subjects with high ether potential. Through trial-and-error, one which I do not have the heart to detail, the T’sarae soon discovered that the bloodhound can also absorb and redistribute ether to another source. Again, hooked to devices like a piece of the cog’s machinery, made to fulfill... research quotas. And when that piece malfunctioned, damaging precious T’sarae research beyond repair, the bloodhound was scheduled to be put down.

I couldn't let this happen. He was loved, not just by me, or the prisoners, but by some of our T’sarae captors as well. Despite the treatment he received, the boy’s kindness never waned. It was like he saw through us, no, saw deep inside of us, and found something worth the warmth and affection he gave so willingly. In a bleak prison camp, the boy reminded us of something we’ve all forgotten about: Happiness...The boy was too special...pure...and he had to be protected, no matter the cost.

So we staged a coup.

The boy slipped away with one of the T’sarae as we rioted. She housed him for a short time, preparing his documents for the Red Seminary, where he eventually joined the Goliath Warband. There was much concern about this. Their Warleader, Father Gregoroth, is known to be a sadistic man. It pained me that he wouldn’t have peace like I hoped, but I knew he would be okay. The boy survived far worse things than a man claiming to be some Great Bear. Earning the respect of someone like him speaks volumes. Even the White Necromancer has taken him under his wing, who no doubt guides his path along the ether.

The boy eventually became an investigator. I believe this a more fancier title than bloodhound, though instead of a leash, he now wears a black and red uniform. The T’sarae woman who aided in his escape tells me he’s doing well, solving puzzles the Vayra otherwise scratched their heads at. This fills me with pride. To know that he’s risen to such a status is one thing, but the true joy that overwhelms my heart is that he is given a name. Solim Vimat.

This....this brings tears of happiness, because it is the native name we gave him in secret. Solim, the peaceful, and Vimat, the tribe of my people.

I will die in peace knowing he carries on our legacy, free from this wretched place. My son, if you ever find this, know that your mother and I will embrace you again. We will walk together, hand-in-hand, across the white oasis, and etch our footprints into eternity. All that I ask is that you never forget who you are, and where you come from...

- OV

Talents:

• Gift of Gab: Solim has the ability to speak with confidence, to the point of persuasion. Part of what makes him effective is that he also has good listening skills, and knows how to make people feel welcomed.
• Close Quarter Disarmament: This is a skill he learned under the brutal tutelage of Father Gregoroth. While not great with firearms, or even melee weapons that aren't pole arms or staffs, Solim is a wizard when it comes to redirecting and neutralizing an attacker's momentum in close quarters.
• Animal Onomatopoeia: Making animal sounds is an odd skill that Solim takes pride in. He mainly uses it as a distraction, or a clever signal to communicate to his Warband on the field. It also makes for a very amusing sound effect for storytelling.

Ethereal Abilities:

• The Ether's Guide: Solim hears, sees, smells, and touches varying wavelengths across the ethereal spectrum; interpreting the residual ether of an ability used in an area, the lingering essence of the dead, or the quantity of ether a person has, to name a few. The ether itself has been known to speak to him, though it isn't made clear as to whether that is his interpretation, or if he's actually interacting with ghostly apparitions.
• Fortress of the Mind: Through deep meditation, he can visualize the finer details of the ether he interprets with his senses. This brings much clarity as he's able to organize the clutter of energies the world gives off. On rare occasions, he can meld with others who are open minded to the experience. By joining hands in meditation he can emit what he visualizes into their thoughts.
• The Ether Phantom: During his meditative state, he can transcend his body in the form of an astral projection. In this form he is even more susceptible to the ether around him, and can even roam within a 100 yard radius uninhibited by physical walls or obstacles. However, he can only be an observer in this form, and cannot manipulate anything in the physical realm while in this state.
• The Funnel: Residual ether that lingers in the environment can be absorbed to refortify another person's abilities, amplifying their powers for a short time. This is an unstable ability best used as a last resort. The after effects can place harm on both Solim, and whoever he funnels ether to.

Personal Seal:

Character Relationships:

Mother Indira: For better or worse, Indira assisted with Solim’s transition into the Red Seminary. In the beginning, Solim was obedient. He absorbed most of her strict instruction without fail, but proved to be a slippery slope when it came to complete Vayra subjugation, and suppressing his Omestrian heritage. This wasn’t driven by rebelliousness, or oppressed anger; Solim’s motivations were based entirely on a pacifist’s view, one that focused on the grander scheme of things. This became a source of conflict she couldn’t rein in. And when Father Gregoroth and Father Antonin started granting him leniencies, Solim’s relationship with Mother Indira quickly went from sour, to hostile. He openly represents his heritage by wearing traditional garbs in public, even with an Inquisitor uniform on. Because of this, Indira views Solim as a selfish fool, one who puts other Omestrians at risk by bringing attention onto himself. This is a growing dilemma for her Omestrian students, who have a hard time figuring out their own identity within the Seminary. Indira regrets ever helping Solim, and goes to great lengths to disassociate herself from him. Solim is saddened by their fallout, but while he understands her views, he cannot go against his spirit and change who he is.

Father Antonin: Solim owes a great deal to Antonin, a man who nurtured his development, and truly cared for his wellbeing. The two shared an affinity with the ether that most couldn’t understand, and it opened up realms of learning between master and apprentice. Antonin’s scholarly enthusiasm pushed Solim’s mind like never before, unlocking potential he never knew existed. While Solim feels indebted for Father Antonin’s teachings, it was his kindness that he appreciated the most, especially after his grueling sessions with Father Gregoroth.

Father Gregoroth: While Father Antonin has a special place in his heart, Solim would say he keeps Father Gregoroth as the heart’s outer surface, a scarred, protective layer. At first, Gregoroth felt no different than the T’sarae oppressors, who seemed to relish in his pain and misfortune. It’s natural to harbor resentment, or even hatred for this kind of behavior, but Solim had faith in the process. Every beating was taken in peaceful silence, every insult was acknowledged with a humble nod. You see, Solim saw the ether in Father Gregoroth, the same way he saw Father Antonin and Mother Indira’s, and the same way he saw the T’sarae that tortured him. Their ether were varying and different, but they oscillate with life that’s meant to endure and improve. “Iron sharpens iron,” is what Gregoroth always barked, and Solim believed it true. While Gregoroth is known to be feared, Solim respects The Great Bear for teaching him a valuable lesson: To endure pain, even past trauma, and wear it as armor branded onto the soul, so that nothing can truly hurt you.

Theme Song

Skull's Multiple Personality Disorder

Onru

Height: 5'6"
Skin Color: Blueish Green

Name: Onru
Age: 23
Race: Mon Calamari
Equipment:

Goggles: Every Mon Cal on Tattoine should have one; best way to keep sand out our shiners. Modified It with built-in zoom capabilities and has transitional lenses. Comes with several different modes too like thermal and night-vision. I'm trying to install a 'see-through' x-ray mode on it as well...you know - for science. The ladies? Oh yeah, they love it. I mean, they never personally told me that. You can just tell with that look in their eye and that laugh they share with their friends. That's a fashionable Mon Cal is what they're probably saying. Trust me - I know these things.

Portable Tractor Beam: Fastened in several pieces around my right arm, this magnificent invention of mine is powered by the powerpack I'm always wearing. Being able to move the more heavier parts without breaking a sweat makes shop work a breeze - until I accidentally crank up the repulsor coils and throw a landspeeder turbine through the wall.

Generator Pack: It looks heavy because of how blocky it is, but that's just the metal casing I welded from a Corellian ship plate. Its surprisingly light! Anyways, the anti-grav core and repulsor coils are tucked deep in the center - that stuffs for the portable tractor beam unit installed on my gauntlet. There was a lot of space left over so I made compartments to put random stuff in. Inflatable camping kit. Food. Tools. Toiletries. Socks. I practically live out of this thing!

Blaster pistol: I'm pretty dangerous with this. Let's just say I've had my fair share of fire fights with this bad boy. What's the model you ask? U-uh...don't know. Why do you care? You have some kind of blaster fetish! Ew! Look, all you have to know is that when you pull this thing here, bad things come out of this end here - like this.*KATURR!* Oh no! Oh, no! Are you okay? Uh, sorry about that! What? Hey it's not my fault! I told you I was dangerous with this thing!

DUM3-A55: Me and DUM3-A55 go way back. He was in bad shape when I found him at Mos Taike. Some schmuck mechanic messed with his wiring real bad. The little droid went on a throwing-spree around town before I managed to disable him. That's right, a throwing-spree. Pit droids like DUM3 are deceptively strong. They're about a meter tall, but they can carry and throw objects many times their size - like a moisture farmer, or a pack of rodian brats. At least no one got hurt. Badly. I take him with me on the job, most of the time. DUM3-A55 fits perfectly over the backside of my powerpack when compressed into a small disk shape. He can actually be pretty useful when he isn't breaking things, or off terrorizing children. I'd like to think he means well - I don't know droidspeak, so I can't be 100 percent sure. I mean hasn't killed me in my sleep yet, so that's a good sign, right?

Skills/Flaws Self taught mechanic, tinkerer, repairer and engineer. Expert haggler. Terrible swimmer. Indecisive. Shoots first, thinks about it sometime later. And as you witnessed, horrid with a blaster ("It wasn't my fault!")

Basic Info: I don't remember anything about Dac. Mom always said it was the opposite of Tattoine; "More water, less sand." *Shivers* I don't think I could ever live on a planet like that. Tattoine is all I've ever known. We fled our homeworld because the Empire was using it for target practice - again that's mom talking. Yeah, mom talks about a lot of things; anything really, except dad. He didn't come with us when we left, and mom never said why. Whatever the reason was, it wasn't enough to keep her from moving on. She's happily married now to a Quarren named Kessek. I'd like to say that I'm happy for her, but that broom face is the reason why I'm indentured to Mahuva Hutt.

*spits*

That tentacled trick pimped me out as the best service mechanic, the kind that - for better or worse - can fix anything; landspeeder, swoop bike, psychotic droid, etc. Kessek was a scrap salesman with a lot of clientele, and through his word-of-mouth my reputation grew. Word eventually reached Mahuva's filthy ear holes. He invited me over to his palace in Bestine, did the whole song and dance about women and credits, and living a lavish lifestyle. Then Mahuva brought out women who did a whole song and dance, while men showered them in credits. Then Mahuva introduced me to one of his lady friends. She was beautiful...that, that was a good night.

*Quietly smiles* ... Wanna see a picture of her?

Forever Amore
*sighs* the one that got away...

Anyways, it didn't take much to reel me in - I just wish I knew what I was actually getting into. The Boonta Eve Classic was coming up and Mahuva wanted me to sabotage other pod racers, and supe up the one he was going to bet major stacks on. Moral compass aside, it seemed an easy enough. Took a bit of sneaking around, but I got the job done.

At least I thought I did.

Turns out that my Huttese isn't so great. I misheard one name for another and, well... On the upside, the underdog from Aleen Minor became the first ever Aleena to win the Boonta Eve - and it was all thanks to me! The downside of course was that he wasn't who Mahuva bet on. I suddenly realized just how dangerous hutts could be. He threatened to kill me and my mom. I asked if he could just kill Kessek, but I never get what I want. I ended up going for another option - if you want to call it that - and chose to live out a lifetime contract as Mahuva's indentured. If I'm not fixing up his cronies' swoop bikes and landspeeders, I'm taking whatever job I can to buy this contract off. Yup, I'm well on my way. Only got 10,111,013.44 credits to go! ... *sigh*

Skull's Multiple Personality Disorder

Alexio

Name: Alexio Kadmizari (Cad-me-zah-ri)

Appearance

Age: 30
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 164 lbs
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Dark Brown
Skin Color: Olive Tone

Personality: Alexio is an independent and free-willed thrill seeker, priding himself as an 'opportunistic scoundrel'.

Faction: Freelance

Rank: Smuggler

Gear:

Liebe

Armastus

Sevgi

Omni-Tool: Serrice Council Savant model

Skills: Omni-tool specialist (Engineer), gunslinger, hacker, pilot extraordinaire, and negotiator.

Flaws: Deceitful, greedy, selfish, and prideful.

Bio: Alexio is a child survivor of a crashed expedition frigate from the Milky Way. He was abducted by a gang of privateers that were scavenging the alliance vessel, and was mercilessly raised in the harsh criminal underbelly of this newfound galaxy. Twenty years later, Alexio smuggles goods across the stars with his partners in crime, shamelessly profiteering off the Rebels, Republic, Sith, and Jedi for selfish gain.

Other:

Ship: The Nightingale

Class: Modified Freighter
Length: 40.12 meters
Width: 22.42 meters
Armament:
- 2x Corellian AG-25 Quad laser cannons
- 1x Ax-108 Ground Buzzer surface defense blaster cannon
- 2x GARDIAN Lasers
- Twin Javelin Disruptor torpedo launcher
- Probe layer
-Tractor beam
Shielding:
- Torplex fore deflector shield generator
- Multicore cyclonic kinetic barrier
- Asari-designed Silaris heavy ship plating

Info: The Nightingale has had many owners and modifications through its early lifespan, retrofitted over the years to accommodate several roles. It was originally designed to be a light transport freighter before the same scavenger gang that abducted Alexio seized the ship, reclaiming it as the Nightingale, as well as their new base of operations. As current owners, Alexio and Wrrlevge have smoothed out its rough edges, replacing old tech with a hybrid of new upgrades, making her a dream to pilot and a nightmare in a firefight.

---

NPC - Nightingale crewmember

appearance

Name: Zaygra
Age: Appears Mid 20s
Race: Zabrak
Height: 5'9"
Info: Zaygra was originally a bounty hunter that was after both Alexio and Wrrlevge; paid for by constituents of the scavenger gang they killed when seizing the Nightingale. They managed to elude her for some time until Zaygra's overwhelming persistence forced their hand. While it was no easy task, Alexio and Wrrlevge managed to apprehend the seasoned combatant and forced Zaygra to confess who her employer was. Her confession spoke of a group the two were very familiar of, and they convinced the Zabrak that she would likely get double-crossed after turning them in. Alexio managed to negotiate a deal with her, and together they teamed up to overtake her contractor's stronghold. It was a slippery operation that took over three days to accomplish. They learned to trust one another during that time, as there were multiple instances where betrayal would've made things easier. Rather than attempting to kill them both to claim all the spoils, she agreed to partner up with the duo. Zaygra has been a loyal crewmember ever since.
Other:
Skills: Biotics, navigations, hand-to-hand combat, and marksmanship.
Flaws: Quick-tempered, close-minded, and extremely prideful.

Skull's Multiple Personality Disorder

Martian Manhunter

Powers/Abilities: - The following is taken from Comicvine

• Super Strength - The Martian Manhunter possess vast amounts of superhuman strength comparable to Superman's strength, easily making him one of the physically strongest beings on the planet.
• Invulnerability - J'onn has invulnerability sufficient for him to take blows from enemies whose strength surpass even Superman, such as Despero. He can also increase his invulnerability by altering his density to become super dense. His invulnerability protects him from the harsh environments of space and also re-entry into the earth's atmosphere. His skin can also repel bullet fire.
• Flight - Martian Manhunter has been seen flying at Mach 10 in Earth's atmosphere.
• Super Speed - J'onn and other Martians have speed that allows him to keep up with the Flash. His speed grants him accelerated reaction times as well. He is able to process thoughts and carry out actions with incredible speed as well. He can even utilize his telepathy at super speed, able to create a telepathic conference room for the Justice League to discuss matters in the privacy of J'onn's mind in just an instant.
• Stamina - The Martian Manhunter has nigh inexhaustible endurance and resilience. He can last for extensive periods of time without food, rest, or air. J'onn has been able to travel great distances in space and fight long battles without tiring.
• Regeneration - J'onn can quickly recover from almost any injury. He is able to reconstitute his body even when severed into several pieces. His regenerative abilities have allowed him to reconstitute his body from even an extremely small mass in only a matter of seconds, and he has even grown a new body from a severed arm.
• Shape-Shifting - The Martian Manhunter has vast shape shifting abilities that stem from complete control of his molecular structure. He is able to take on any shape he pleases, often taking the human guise of Detective John Jones. He can form shapes of objects or organisms alive, extinct, or imagined, and he has often shown to grow an extra pair of arms to supplement his fighting abilities and his strength. He can become as stiff and unmovable or as flexible and malleable as he pleases. He can also alter his size or the size and length of his limbs. J'onn often borrows mass from matter around him and incorporates it in his body, expelling it when he returns to his normal size. He can use this ability to become intangible and move through objects or allow attacks to fly by harmlessly through him or to become extremely dense to add more mass to his blows and increase his invulnerability. J'onn's control over his own molecular structure also allow him to adapt his visibility, granting him the ability to become invisible at will. His shape shifting abilities extend beyond even that allowing himself to change his chemical composition. He was able to turn his skin into a thick exoskeleton of human bone in order to shield him from a corrosive that would normally disintegrate his Martian physiology.
• Intangibility - By greatly lowering the density of his own mass, Marian Manhunter is able to become intangible. He has used this power often during combat to protect himself from his enemy's attacks and to pass through walls and other structures to travel.
• Invisibility - J'onn is able to control his visibility and render himself invisible to beings that can even view the entire electromagnetic spectrum. He can even appear invisible to Superman.
• Telepathy - J'onn is the most powerful telepath on earth. J'onn is capable of linking the minds of all superheroes at once from a distance of the moon to all corners of the earth. He is also capable of reading the minds of all inhabitants of earth at once. His telepathic abilities also allow him to create realistic illusions; telepathically trace and locate people; shut down people's minds; brain blast; mental shield; influence thoughts; mind control people; manipulate memory; astral projection; possesion; induce sleep; reprogram or reorder minds; and transfer information directly into people's brains.
• Psionic Blast - J'onn is able to project painful and destructive blasts of psionic energy from his eyes and his hands
• Psionic Shield - J'onn is able to project a telekinetic shield of distinct size and force for their protection and that of others.
• Martian Vision - Martian Manhunter can project powerful blasts of energy from his eyes. The power of these blasts are comparable to Superman's heat vision and have been shown to be able to harm Superman himself. He is able to create powerful enough blast to sever his own arm. He is also able to project telekinetic blasts of force.
• Telekinesis - Presumably a side effect of his Martian vision is telekinesis. He seems to keep this ability in reserve, as he does some of his other powers. J'onn is capable of controlling / manipulating; move; push; cut out; attrack; and levitate objects even at the subatomic level. J'onn can manipulate atoms, subatomic particles, and cells perfectly. J'onn can fire extremely powerful Telekinetic Blast and create a telekinetic shield. J'onn has only demonstrated this power a select few times and rarely utilizes it.
• Martian Breath - The Martian Manhunter has also demonstrated an increased lung capacity, allowing him to blow powerful wind bursts and freeze opponents with his breath, similar to Superman. J'onn has also demonstrated the ability to fly through space for extended periods of time.
• Sonic Scream - J'onn has on occasion demonstrated the capability to emit a devastating sonic scream.
• X-ray Vision - J'onn J'onzz described this ability colloquially as ionized particulate matter mapped to a variable density wavepacket. It allows him to see through objects.
• Extrasensory Input - Martians have nine senses as opposed to a human's five senses, which grants the Martian more numerable and clearer perceptions.
• Longevity - Martians possess naturally longer lifespans than human beings. J'onn has lived for at least one hundred years and is still not at old age. *End of comicvine references

Weaknesses:

Fire. One of the earliest discoveries of ingenuity known to man is his one and only greatest weakness. Due to his invulnerable constitution, the affects of being exposed to fire are entirely psychological. The amount of distress J'onn can have is directly proportional to the strength and/or intensity of the heat and flames produced. The greater the flame, the more likely he is to lose control of his abilities and potentially lose consciousness. This condition is purely psycho-somatic. It is a result of post traumatic stress due to witnessing the fiery massacre of his people.

What J'onn survived on mars is indescribable.

Green Martians mainly communicate telepathically, adhering to a central nexus of communication simply known as the voice. They could meld with each other's thoughts, allowing everyone to experience moments as one. For a civilization that only knew of peace and community, this euphoric trait was treasured among J'onn and his kind. But on that fateful day where so many martians met their cruel end, such a sentiment would be ill-placed for one that valued their sanity.

It was known as H'ronnmeer's Curse, a telepathic plague that spread through Mars without warning. The agonizing pain of millions in torment flooded his senses as if flung into a bog of chaos. He heard every scream. Felt every soul leave this realm with a brutal exit. Inescapable and all-encompassing, J'onn nearly drowned into an abyss of sorrow. Somehow... he survived. To this day he does not know how he became Mars' lone survivor. Those memories are purposefully locked away, sealed off by psychic barriers of his own design. This severely traumatic event continues to fester like a wound, constantly reopening with no hope of healing any time soon.

Origins:

This is not my world. You are not my people. Yet here I am living among you -- trying to be like one of you. I walk this earth as you do but in many different forms. Sometimes as a detective. Other times as a charlatan. I've come to learn that those two are often one in the same, but I nail these acting roles so well that it makes Daniel Day Lewis look like an amateur. It's to the point where I am even starting to trick myself into thinking I'm a normal human being -- actually, two, normal human beings.

But who am I really kidding here?

I do this to forget but it never works. I try to erase old memories by replacing them with new ones from this fabricated play-pretend I've gotten myself into -- but it's pointless. No matter how hard I try to block them out, in the end, the horrors of my past will always find a way to... haunt me.

All it really takes is a box of matches.

You probably think I hate it here, huh? That's not true. I love your television shows and your cat memes, but what makes it all worthwhile are your civilization's most exquisite wafered delicacies. If the over-zealous Dr. Erdel hadn't plucked me from Ma'aleca'andra and onto your planet, I would have never known the euphoria that is Oreos. His base intention of staying relevant within earth's (rather underdeveloped) scientific community rescued me from an eternity spent wandering around Mars, alone. Without Oreos.

Humor is a defense mechanism that does well to cover inner turmoil. I have adopted this into my persona as it helps deflect what I wish to not dwell on. I've come to adopt many things since my stay here, but earth as my home is not one of them. I intend to learn more about your world through the valiance of police detective John Jones, and the crookedness of mafioso henchman Frank Basillio. By playing both sides of the coin I hope to cover as much ground as possible. What am I looking for exactly? Simple. Others who are different like me but want to make a difference. I know they're out there. I can feel them stirring on the surface like an Oreo floating in a nice cold glass of milk. I just hope that when I do find them, they'll accept me for who I really am. Dr. Erdel was the last man that saw my true self. Granted, he died of shock from the whole ordeal, but I remain optimistic.

Arc ideas:

• Returning to Mars to uncover the mystery behind H'ronnmeer's curse.
• Taking in alien refugees could potentially reveal that he is in fact not the last of his kind!
• While going on a guided tour about the Oreo cookie at Nabisco Headquarters, he stumbles upon an event that will put his love for the delicious snack to an ultimate test!