Fandom Star Wars: Legacy of the Old Republic (Character Sheet)

[Ginko The Mushishi]

The galaxy is your oystery they say, make your character and step out into the universe.

I don't need to tell you guys not to make a character that's seemingly OP! I trust you guys to judge that for yourselves. Other than that, try to be as descriptive as possible with your character! Have fun!
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(Basic Information)
Name: The name of your character.
Age: The age of your character.
Gender: What's the gender of your character?
Home Planet: The planet your character was born on!
Race/Species: Any race/species from Star Wars is acceptable!

(Story and personal)
Personality: The personality of your character is most important, it helps get people to know them better outside of interaction.
Biography: The story of your character up until the beginning of the story!

(Appearance - Provide an image of your character as well, if you so choose to)
Height: Height of your character
Weight: Weight of your character
Attire: What your character wears; armor, robes, etc. ?

(Equipment)
Guns: Self explanitory
Ship: -You may own your own ship if you desire-
Lightsaber: -Jedi/Sith only- (Provide a picture of your lightsaber hilt if you wish, or detail it. Include the kyber crystal color too.)
Other Weapons: -Bombs, vibroweaponry, etc.-

(Jedi/Sith Specific)
Practiced Forms: (Pick the one you like the most!)

Spoiler: Lightsaber Combat Forms

Form I - Shii-Cho
Form II - Makashi
Form III - Soresu
Form IV - Ataru
Form V - Shien/ Djem So
Form VI - Niman
Form VII - Vapaad/ Juyo

Most practiced Force Power - What force power is the most preferred, most powerful of their arsenal?
Least practiced Force Power - What force power is the least used of your Jedi/Sith? What needs the most work?

(Extras)
Anything you feel is important or maybe not so important can be thrown here. Misscellaneous stuff!

 

[Iskandar]

Caena Tivra

Home Planet:
Nar Shaddaa

Age:
35

Gender:
Female

Species:
Togruta

Height:
177cm(5’9”)

Weight:
66kg(145lbs)

Eye Color:
Blue

Attire:
Full Leather Bodysuit, jacket is slightly short, allowing for her stomach to show. Zipper is midway down, allowing for her cleavage to be seen. Typically wears goggles around her neck, no real use other than fashion. Belt that has her dual holsters, multiple pouches, and a sheath for her vibroknife. Military style black boots.

Rank in Order:
N/A


Personality:
Caena is very much your typical outgoing, bubbly person, but she isn’t naive. Due to her countless years witnessing and partaking in crime, she can seem rather cold at first, and is very decisive when it comes to making decisions on the fly. Caena is very protective once she really gets to know someone, and is your typical suave, charming ruffian. She is also extremely intelligent, and is very resourceful in terms of goods and information.


Biography:
Caena grew up on the Hutt controlled moon of Nar Shaddaa, of course not of her will. Her family had been captured by slavers and sold on the moon, where she was separated from her mother and brother. The man that had bought Caena was a despicable man, who would abuse not only Caena, but his other slaves too; physical, mentally, and even sexually.


After about seven years into being owned by her master, she was sold to different person. Her master had a bad habit of buying slaves frequently and damaging them beyond use. He never did this with Caena, and to this day she can’t determine why. Perhaps it was because she was a child. The new master was a massive improvement on her old one. It was an older woman, in her mid to late fifties. She was a bright blue Twi’lek who treated Caena like a person, and not property. Her name was Pim, and she was extremely honest and forward with Caena. The first words Pim ever said to Caena were: “When you turn sixteen years old, you will work at my brothel as one of the merchandise, until then, enjoy the rest of you adolescence.”


Those four years went by in a flash, but they were eventful for young Caena. She became a bit of a trouble maker, and would typically commit petty crimes such as theft. As she got a bit older, she’d be a runner and messenger for some of the local gangs around Nar Shaddaa. She made multiple friends, and began to network with the gangs and fences she had interacted with. Sadly, those days came to an end on her sixteenth birthday. Pim had confined Caena to the brothel, and turned into a vile old woman who cared for nothing but money. Pim had finally showed her true colors, being more abusive than Caena’s previous master at times.


For the next five years Caena was subjugated to being a prostitute for old Pim. The old woman would even get the girls, including Caena, addicted to Red Sand and other narcotics. Caena had pretty much became a husk of a person who was used by others to get pleasure or profit from. Luckily for Caena, and old friend of hers, Vuste, had became one of the captains in the Hutt Cartel, and caught wind of Pim’s operations. Pim never payed the Hutts any slice of her profit, and when the Hutts caught wind of this, they weren’t very happy. Vuste, with the help of the Cartel had raided the Brothel, liberating the drugged up women. At this moment Caena took it upon herself to stab Pim in the throat with a fork, and watched as she bled out, flailing on the ground. Vuste saw the whole thing, and took the terrified Caena away from the Brothel, making sure she never looked back.


Vuste had managed to get Caena a position within the Cartel, after she had kicked her drug addiction. Vuste was a smuggler herself, and she ran a tight ship. For five years Caena would travel the galaxy with Vuste, smuggling goods for the Hutts, Republic and Sith Empire. They nearly died on multiple occasions, but Vuste always managed to get them out of any troublesome situation. Eventually, the Hutts decided that Caena was worthy enough to have her own ship, and crew. She’d proven herself multiple times, and was considered their second best smuggler, behind Vuste of course.


This was the big break! Caena would never admit that she wanted to shine on her own, but deep down that is how she felt. Caena would take on any sort of job, whether that be as a smuggler or even a bounty hunter for the Hutts. She explicitly said that she would never smuggle narcotics or slaves due to her past. The Hutts weren’t happy at her demands, but conceded due to her being good at her job. Aboard her ship, Caena was pretty much a motherly figure. She protected her crew no matter what occurred, and was known for her efficiency and hundred percent job completion record. Caena and her crew soon outshone that of Vuste, causing a small rivalry, and even falling out between the two. They nearly killed each other once, over a job that the Hutts chose Caena over Vuste for. It is implicated that Caena had romantic feelings for Vuste, but she’d never admit she did.


Eventually Vuste was killed on a difficult run, attempting to get supplies to the besieged planet of Alderaan during the war between the Sith and Republic. This wrecked Caena, even though they were rivals, and no longer friends, the fact that she could never reconcile with her savior and old friend, wrecked Caena. She soon left the Cartel, deciding to go independent. She still did jobs for the Hutts from time to time, but mostly just worked for the Republic and Sith. She never really chose a side, unless it was her own. She would continue this line of work making quite a name for herself as a suave, but honest smuggler who could achieve the impossible.


Equipment:

Twin DL-44 pistols

DLT-19

Twin Vibroknifes

Goggles

Glasses

Scramble Key

Personal Deflector Shield

Locket with a picture of Vuste.


Other

Extra{*}:

Secretly a bookworm.

Openly Lesbian.

Deathly afraid of butterflies.

Has a multitude of connections with the Black Market and shady underworld.

She is on good terms with the Hutt Cartel, and most other large criminal organizations.

Has her own ship, named Xerxes, a XS stock freighter(Same model as the Ebon Hawk… Best model. Plus couldn't find many other, better looking ships)

​

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[Sir Fungus]

(Basic Information)
Name: Haindhiazha Abdelhadi
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Home Planet: Nar Shaddaa
Race/Species: Zabrak

Spoiler: Appearance

(Story and personal)
Personality: Haind is very easily angered, giving her a short tempered kind of personality
Biography: Haindhiazha was born on nar shaddaa into a poor abusive family, often being verbally and physically abused by both of her parents. When she reached the age of 15, she would be enlisted into the sith academy of her own accord after murdering both of her parents in the night, feeling only hatred for them and causing something to awaken inside. After many years, she would fight and bleed for her position to be a lord of the sith, only with one catch..she has no master to kill to rise higher, so, will she seek a dark lord of the sith to kill and rise to power? Or will she simply be fit with her current ranking and remain a simple lord until the day she dies?

(Appearance - Provide an image of your character as well, if you so choose to)
Height: 5’8”
Weight: 110 Pounds.
Attire: robed Cortosis-phrik alloy armor

(Equipment)
Guns: None
Ship: None

Spoiler: Lightsabers

Other Weapons: -Bombs, vibroweaponry, etc.-

(Jedi/Sith Specific)
Practiced Forms: Jar’kai, Ataru, Soresu
Most practiced Force Power - Force Crush
Least practiced Force Power - Force Lightning, It always runs astray whenever Haind tries to use it, so she can never hit her targets accurately

 

[Mackenzie wise]

Name: Mackenzie King Wallace
Age: 25
Gender: male
Home Planet: tatoonine
Race/Species: pure human

Personality: sarcastic, greedy, levelheaded, loyal, hurting,
Biography: as a young child he was always cast aside and regarded as nothing, orphaned and alone completely he never gave up his kind heart. He never let what others would do affect his drive to help others, not the hutts not the paid off police not the many people who used and abused him. He went on surviving the best he could and helping as many do the same, often going days without eating because he gave his only food to someone who needed it or con’d him. Everyone always said Mackenzie would be a no good bounty hunter some day, he brushed that off and set off to do good in the galaxy.

When he heard there was recruitment for troopers in the republic’s army he was ecstatic, he was very thin but very fit (due to the lack of food and water) he passed the physical and mental tests, he was one of the best in terms of passion. When he saw combat he fought with all he had, he was wounded in battle and bleeding out. No one helped him, many could but due to fear or jealousy they choose to leave him. He managed to survive and left with a hard heart and a new passion.

Appearance:
Height: 6’1
Weight: 195 pounds
Attire: modified trooper armor

Guns: 2 pistols, vibro knife,
Ship:
Lightsaber: -Jedi/Sith only- none
Other Weapons: Thermal grenades, detonated explosives (like c4), throwing knives,

(Jedi/Sith Specific)
Practiced Forms: (Pick the one you like the most!)
Spoiler: Lightsaber Combat Forms
Most practiced Force Power - What force power is the most preferred, most powerful of their arsenal?
Least practiced Force Power - What force power is the least used of your Jedi/Sith? What needs the most work?

(Extras)
he is inwardly broken and hurt, he will not show it but he wears more than his modified trooper mask. Anyone with the force could sense it though he wouldn’t admit it, unless he grew close to that person or they wouldn’t give him a bounty because of it... or paid, he would do just about anything for credits pride has its price.

 

[Amyleii]

(Basic Information)
Name: Ami Atono
Age: 12
Gender: female
Home Planet: Alderaan
Race/Species: human

(Story and personal)
Personality: Upbeat, cheerful, full of energy, vary excitable and happy
Biography: Ami was born on aldaraan and was the doughter of a noble family. She was discovered to be strong in the force and sent off to the Jedi temple where she trained for years until today when she will finally meet her master and become a padewan

(Appearance)
Height: 3’5”
Weight: 78lbs
Attire:padewan robes

(Equipment)
Guns: None
Ship: none
Lightsaber: small hilt with a sleek design. Purple kyber crystal



(Jedi/Sith Specific)
Practiced Forms: Trakata-trakata was a form that focused on the ability to turn lightsabers on and off. basically you would catch the enemy off guard by turning your lightsaber off at moments to throw the enemy off balance, for instence they swing at you, you catch their saber and before they have time to readjust you turn off your own saber and let them fall forward and then turn your lightsaber on while the hilt is aimed at their body.
Spoiler: Lightsaber Combat Forms
Most practiced Force Power - natural force luck. Ami has a unique connection to the force that makes her ridiculously lucky, but practical force abilities are not easy for her to use.
Least practiced Force Power - Force push/pulls

(Extras)
Anything you feel is important or maybe not so important can be thrown here. Misscellaneous stuff!

 

[ThatGuyWithSouvlaki]

(Basic Information)
Name: A'Therra
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Home Planet: Ord Mantell
Race/Species: Cathar

(Story and personal)
Personality: Soft spoken, prim, fun-loving, flirty, humorous, sarcastic, fiesty, secretive regarding her past, troubled.
Biography: Orphaned during the insurgency in Ord Mentel, her family no more than farmers who fell fowl of the insurgency. The insurgents had taken her hostage to make her parents provide them with food. She was starved and mistreated until finally rescued by a group of Republic soldiers led by a female twilik Jedi. She seemed to sense that the eight year old was force sensative and so aimed to get ATherra's parents permission to train her as a Jedi.

She did not have to as on return to the farm they found Therra's parents killed by retreating separatists as a reprisal. Therra was taken of planet to Tython and trained as a padawan. She was capable but headstrong student, considered impatient and rule bender. Though a believer in the spirit and purpose of the Jedi she never understood why the Jedi had to surpress the very thing that would make them reason to protect their emotions and be self sacrificing robots.

Despite the issues with her teachers, the needs of war made her too valuable to cast out. She followed her master to many battles and flash points over the years. She fought well but her, her master and a squadron of Republic soldiers were ambushed by the sith. She lost her right arm in the resulting duel with one of the sith which left her master to deal with the enemy on her own and was eventually struck down before the cathars eyes. Therra thought she was next and attempted to go in a blaze of glory with her good hand and her masters lightsabers. She was brought down again quickly but instead of being killed was captured.

She was a guest of the sith for several months, each time the sith attempted to turn her. It was that time when she understood the rules of the Jedi, to be free with your emotions as a force sensative is to be made a monster. The force wasn't a gift but a curse forcing you to either be monster or emotionless. She wanted neither, she wanted to reject the force altogether.

During transportation to another planet, she managed to escape on an escape pod with her masters lightsabers hidden on her. The pod was picked up by a smuggler who happen to travel by. She gave the smuggler a sob story about being an escaped slave. The smuggler seemed to believe her and took her as an apprentice. It was an adjustment but she found solace in her new life even enjoyed. Yet part of her knew she had the potential to do more than this.

(Appearance )
Height: 5ft8in
Weight: 65kg
Attire: What your character wears; armor, robes, etc. ?

(Equipment)
Guns: A-116 Elite Marksman Interceptor
Ship: -inhabits the Xerxes, a XS stock freighter
Lightsaber: has her deceased masters curved hilt lightsaber as a keepsake in a secret place in her ship. Yellow crystal.

Other Weapons: Vibrorapier, vibrodagger, thermo detonators, wrist mounted dart thrower build into her prosthetic.

(Jedi/Sith Specific)
Practiced Forms: form 1, form 2 makashi and little form 3 soresu. Since leaving the Jedi had a developed a fencing style similar to makashi.
Most practiced Force Power - basic force manipulation.
Least practiced Force Power - practically everything

(Extras)

1. Bisexual
2. Has an old jurryrigged prosthetic right arm.

 

[Sylvio]

Name: Jerred Nyx
Age: 30
Gender: Male
Home planet: Droumond Kass

Personally: Jerred is a bit of sadist and enjoys inflicting pain on anyone really, no matter who they be. He’s also blood thirsty and a rampage especially when fighting Jedi. He absolutely hates Jedi.

Towards his fellow sith, they are his audience. Though killing Sith would be a waste cause he wants to show off to as much living Sith as possible. Other imperialis are seen as pawns who are best kept alive. He’s somewhat of a patriot to a militarized state who exists to stir chaos in the galaxy.

The rest are just scum.

Biography: Jerred was born into the Sith Order. As soon as he was born, his mother killed his father so that she could raise her son without the threat of her husband that he was to her son. Jerred’s mother sent him to Korriban when he was 15 and there he would train in the Sith Temple, most of the acolytes formed their own cliques but not Jerred. He was one of the few who looked out for himself. He would take on cliques of acolytes when he was bored, craving violence he always picked fights with the strongest athletes, which made him populat amongst the lower acolytes. Before he could graduate, he had to retrieve a lightsaber from an ancient sith tomb. As did his notebook powerful rivals. They all jumped him at the tomb, but due to his knowledge of the force, he was able to kill them all.

Jerred returned with the lightsaber and became an apprentice to his mother. When he returned home, his mother was dressed in her armor and told him that this was what she raised him to become. If he could defeat his mother, she would’ve raised a powerful Sith Lord. Jerred lost his lightsaber in the duel, but used the force like before and overcame his mogher. She died with a smile on her face and Jerred took her lightsaber pike. Taking all her rank and titles.

Appearance
Height: 5’11
Weight: 88 kg
Attire:


Equipment
Lightsaber: red lightsaber pike

Ship: personal fighter


Jedi/Sith Specific
Practiced forms: Shii-Cho, Makashi, and Shiien/Djem So
Most practiced Force Power: Force Choke
Least practiced Force Power: Force Rage

 

[Epiphany]

(Basic Information)
Name: Tlon'osash'iagors (Core Name: Nosashi - "Call me Sasha")
Age: 30
Gender: Female
Home Planet: Bothan colony world of Kothlis
Race/Species: Chiss

(Story and personal)
Personality: Sasha's real personality tends to hide under whatever role she's submersed herself in for the job. With those she trusts, she can be the relaxed, compassionate, introspective woman she's grown up to be. Sasha enjoys doing what she's good at and takes pride in finding ways to make the various missions she handles come out with a minimum of bloodshed yet with lasting results. The long running war against the Sith have left her resolved to see the conflict finished; the Sith themselves no longer evoke much emotion from her at all, beyond a faint bittersweet sorrow.

Biography: Sasha's career as a Jedi Shadow is virtually unknown to anyone, including both the public and the general Jedi Order. Born on a distant colony world, a passing Jedi noticed a child with Force Sensitivity and took her with him. For her part, Sasha was only too pleased to escape poverty and a future with no prospects, and she took to Jedi lessons with her considerable energy.

A talented Padawan, Sasha's people skills grew only more obvious as she finished her training and became a Jedi Knight. There was some thought to grooming her for the few military interfacing positions given the escalating conflict with the Sith. When she ended up partnering with another Jedi Shadow for an assignment, however, he saw potential in her natural aptitudes of linguistics, roleplaying and persuasion. Within a year, she'd completed additional Jedi Shadow training and was put to work...at which point she essentially vanished from the public eye and any mention in general Jedi correspondence.

Where many Jedi Shadows emphasize stealth or direct infiltration, Sasha has been a dedicated social engineer for a decade. Typical operations include researching a place, an organization or a target before adopting either a disguise or a new identity and placing herself in proximity to where she needs to be. Sasha's Force abilities are particularly good at indirect manipulation, nudging targets or those around targets into compromising themselves. Like any Jedi Shadow, she's been primarily tasked with hunting down dark side artifacts as well as the Sith themselves but she's chiefly done so without leaving anyone aware there was ever a Jedi involved.

(Appearance )
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 140 lbs
Attire: Sasha's choice of outfits vary wildly depending on what assignment she's on or what role she's playing. Left to her own devices, the Chiss Jedi is perfectly comfortable in Jedi robes or a modest long-sleeved shirt tucked into a pair of leggings.

(Equipment)
Guns: A N-315 Elite Marksman Interceptor blaster pistol
Ship: Owns a Defender-class light corvette named Shennigans but it can go months between uses, depending on the role she's playing at the time.
Lightsaber: Owns a double-bladed lightsaber, traditional for the Jedi Sentinels and Shadows, mounted with a golden kyber crystal. Hers comes with a variable external configuration, letting her swap it from looking (and functioning) like a lightsaber to an exotic flute (which actually plays) and a welding tool, to suit two of her common disguises.
Other Weapons: None. She's practiced with explosives but rarely carries them to avoid chemical or radiological detection.

(Jedi/Sith Specific)
Practiced Forms: While broadly proficient in most Lightsaber Forms, Sasha specializes in using Form V, equally practiced at Shiem and Djem So depending on the nature of her opponents.
Most practiced Force Power - Force Persuasion, with ample experience using Force Empathy, Flashburn, Morichro and Force Speed.
Least practiced Force Power - Force Alteration; she's a decent telekinetic but isn't anything special at any other power in this category.

(Extras)

 

[Valen]

Spoiler: Image

(Basic Information)
Name: Thaylan Dreyk, Lord Dreyk
Age: 29
Gender: Male
Home Planet: Coruscant
Race/Species: Human

(Story and personal)
Personality: Thaylan despises weakness especially in those who would simply deny power or falsely claim to hold such. He is an adept pilot and military strategist however his focus narrows when he himself holds onto the battlefield against a stubborn foe. His time as a Jedi does leave conflict within him but nonetheless he distances himself from personal attachments and anything outside of his duties as a Lord of the Sith and to his master who he finds more pressing to learn from and discover how to overthrow by the day. Thaylan also tends to view every opponent far beneath his abilities especially in one on one duels until proven otherwise and holds a brutality to him while also lacking the desire for absolutely needless bloodshed. However what he defines as a need might not be generally shared.
Biography: Born on Coruscant orphaned with just his younger sister for a time Thaylan quickly learned how to act quickly and on his feet even at a young age. Surviving through the loose control of the Coruscant underlevels and using the few gifts he had to make it day by day. Even as the Jedi Order finally found him, a mark was left. He had seen a great deal of violence, corruption, and absolute greed even in the center of the Republics Glory.

Being taken in there were those who held concern at his age and attitude but one Master Cantral Maj a Kel Dor male pushed away such issues and eagerly took Thaylan as an apprentice and protection of his sister was taken to the Republic world of Corellia. His master was quick to identify the conflict, determination, and frustration in Thaylan and took a risk on teaching him Vaapad, a lightsaber form that worked on allowing oneself to not entirely reject their darker emotions but to fuel it into ones fighting style and even turn others darker nature into power against them. While Thaylan flourished with this it would be shortly into his status as a Knight that he would receive news of his sister's death due to one of the many conflicts between the Sith and Republic. As much as he tried not to blame the Jedi he was promised by them of her safety nonetheless and this would be the key for another to play on the seed of despair and hatred that had begun to rise within him.

Going on his own missions for the Republic he would encounter a foe he had no chance of defeating. A Sith Lord that held power beyond his own master's abilities. Just before this sith delivered the killing blow he instead stopped and questioned the defeated knight and soon spoke to him as if he could speak directly through him and as if he knew all of his troubles and conflicts. Leaving him a communicator he left Thaylan there. Sparing his life he told him to think on what words they exchanged and to call upon him when he made his decision. Weeks went by and the words of the sith only made more clear in his mind they would begin to meet in secret and would train him just barely in the ways of the sith and the dark side. Refusing to invest much into the child until he told him what he had to do. Kill his own master and leave the republic behind.

The republic had done little for him now that his sister was gone and even his master had seemed to...feel a shift within his student and seemed to be distancing from him even after all of this potential he had personally spoke for of him.

Needless to say. The Sith had played his cards right and earned a new apprentice of his own. Revealing his identity as a member of the Dark Council and putting far more dangerous tasks before him than Thaylan could have imagined. But while many would see this in terror, he saw this as someone who truly viewed his potential and power and made it his goal to not just survive but to completely destroy any obstacles in front of him. Now rising as a Lord of the Sith Lord Dreyk represents his master in Military Operations and continues to learn the valuable teachings he can from him while his ambition and power grow further. Now holding a reputation within the many Sith Lords as a threat any wise being would not take lightly, being seen on the battlefield as a one man army and his command holding little to be desired under his masters forces.

(Appearance)

Spoiler: Without Armor

Height: 6'1
Weight: 185
Attire: (Pic above) Armored Mask, Chest, and Gauntlets under Dark Black Robes

(Equipment)

Spoiler: Ships

The Imperator

His Master's personal flagship, commanded by Lord Dreyk in his stead for Military operations

The Avarice, Personal Ship

Spoiler: Lightsabers

Main (Right Hand)

His main lightsaber holding a red crystal bled from his former master's green one and moved into this new hilt that holds an attachable end to equip with his other blade if necessary.
Secondary (Left Hand)

His secondary blade holding a purple crystal. Both the blade and crystal from his years as a Jedi.

(Jedi/Sith Specific)
Practiced Forms: Shien / Djem So, His most mastered Style heavily enjoying and excelling at dueling with intense aggression. Favoring this form especially if he sees his foe as inferior to him as this cuts any time for surprises or mediocre defensive techniques.
Ataru, His newest addition of lightsaber styles as Lord Dreyk incorporates heavy force pressure with every one of his attacks making his attacks all the more devastating when going for power over form
Vaapad/Juyo the Form he practiced most as a Jedi

Most practiced Force Power - Force Blast, Force Crush and Force Lightning
Least practiced Force Power - Force Mindtrick, Force Vision, Force Telepathy, Mainly force techniques that require a more concentrated calm approach or perceptive abilities whenever he is in a heated battle, Force Stealth

(Extras)
-Former Jedi Knight
-Has never fully accepted an Apprentice (they have all failed or died before he fully gave them such a title)
-Holds one Crimson and one Violet Blade, Even though holding a violet blade is seen as weak to many Sith Thaylan uses to to lure others into challenging him as well as the last bit of memory to his past life while also continuing to distinguish him from the rest of the would be powerful Sith Lords.
-Holds a violent long scar over his back from his first encounter with his current sith master
-Also refining and practicing his abilities with Force Destruction
-Despises the Jedi, Balor Lance for his involvement in the failed protection of his sister

 

[Iskandar]

Sudunt "Suds" Cumberland.

Age:
100(looks 30 due to Force Shenanigans.)

Gender:
Male

Home Planet:
Dromund Kaas

Race/Species:
Human.

Personality:
Despite his appearance, Suds is an extremely outgoing, charismatic and carefree person. He's witty, funny and sarcastic if that is your cup of tea. His intelligence is unrivaled, and his ability to stay calm under the worst of scenarios is extraordinary. The man is slow to trust and always views situations with a realistic viewpoint. Many that know Suds would call him a wise and experienced man who will remain loyal to those that manage to earn his trust. He is always willing to listen to both sides of an argument, and will always admit when either have valid points and faults. At the end of the day, he is a firm believer of neutrality, and will offer his advice to both sides rather than take one.

Biography:
Born on the Imperial Capital of Dromund Kaas to two extremely powerful Sith Lords. Both were members of the Dark Council, but Suds never got to know his mother as she died when he was two years old. Suds father was changed forever by the loss of his beloved, becoming a bitter and abusive man who sought only to mold his son into a killing machine. Suds father had trained the boy in both the powers of the force and the forms of the lightsabers at the very young age of five years old. This would continue for another five years, until one day while on route to Alderaan, Suds and his father's ship had been intercepted by a Republic Fleet. Their ship was quickly boarded by a Jedi Strike team, and surprisingly Suds' father fought valiantly to defend his only child. Suds' father managed to escort his child to the escape pods, slaying several Jedi Knights before eventually succumbing to the numbers of the Jedi. Suds watched his father smile warmly as the escape pod ejected, and several lightsabers plunged into his back.

The escape pods landing into Alderaan wasn't exactly smooth. In fact it was extremely rough, and nearly killed the ten year old boy. The impact was so dangerous that upon landing, Suds was knocked unconscious, and forgot everything about himself and his past besides his name. A Twi'lek Jedi Master had spotted the escape pod crash, and upon arriving at the wreckage found Suds knocking on death's door. She took him back to her base of operations, and nursed him back to health. She sensed that he had immense potential to become a Jedi, and would take him on as her Padawan some time later.

Suds would graduate to the rank of Knight at the age of 16, one of the brightest and youngest minds the Jedi Order had. He was quite a popular figure outside of the Order, known for his dashing looks and fantastical adventures. Many within the Order disapproved of his methods but his Master, Aola, always supported him even if it made them enemies within the Order. Suds would remain a Knight until the age of 28, being granted the title of Master. He was still dashing and charismatic, but had a sense of maturity to him and was always willing to do what was necessary for good and justice. He took on his own padawan, and trained them in the ways of the Jedi. Sadly this wouldn't last, as his Padawan was killed by a Sith while on a mission on Corellia. Suds wouldn't take another padawan while with the Jedi. At the age of 35, Suds was permitted a seat on the Jedi Council, but this would not last long...

One year after gaining a seat to the Jedi Council, Aola, along with the rest of the Council decided to restore his memories, and tell him the truth of his origins. The man was immediately filled with rage when his memories had returned. He saw his father die right before his eyes, at the hands of Aola and two other Masters on the council. Quickly, Suds overwhelmed Aola and the two masters, striking them down and killing all three. He would be injured, but successfully managed to escape the Jedi and fled to Korriban.

Upon arriving on Korriban he was greeted by a part of Sith Lords and Apprentices. He managed to dispatch of the party before making his way to the Sith Academy. There he pledged his services to a Darth by the name of Zokath. The Darth was a member of the Dark Council who was in need of a deadly weapon to do his bidding, and Suds who was filled with rage and anger, was all the more willing to aid this man in causing mayhem and destruction.

The two would be a menace to the galaxy, a scourge to the people for ten long years. Wreaking mayhem and chaos for the benefit of not only the Sith Empire but themselves as well. At the age of 45, Suds who was now a Sith Lord, had challenged his Master for his seat on the Dark Council. They two fought a duel in front of the Council, with Suds being the victor. He took on the name Darth Caesta, and took under an Apprentice named Kathlis. Little did Suds know, this girl would spell the end of his reign on the Dark Council.

Another five years would pass, and the name Darth Caesta spread far and wide across the Galaxy. He was known for being a ruthless and heartless man who killed indiscriminately. The Republic fear him due to his tactical prowess, as the man had never lost a battle in his career. During this time, Kathlis and Suds had developed a romantic relationship of sorts. Kathlis was able to manipulate Suds into a trap of hers. Upon being trapped, Kathlis revealed that she was a Jedi Spy, sent to gather information on the Sith and if possible capture Suds and return him to the Jedi Council. She had succeed in her job. She returned to Tython with Suds in chains, and presented him to the Council. She had hoped that her accomplishment would warrant her a seat on the Council, but this did not happen for Kathlis. Filled with rage, Kathlis attempted to lash out at the Council, only for Suds to stop her. He saw in her what he was like when he attacked the Council. It was a good lesson for the old man, who chuckled loudly in the Council chambers before saying, "Do whatever you wish with me, Jedi Council. I humbly surrender myself, and even pledge myself to writing my mistakes."

The Council took some time to come to a decision. They decided that they would allow Suds re-admittance into the Order, only on the conditions that he was under heavy guard, and that he would remain at the rank of Padawan till the rest of his life. Suds accepted, and strove to right the wrongs that he did towards any and everyone he affected. Suds was assigned a Master who was nearly half his age. The two hit it off, and Suds learned much from his master. Through the help of his Master, he believed it was possible to at least atone for the sins he had committed.

A few years later, while on a mission to Moraband to investigate some disturbing rumors, Suds and his Master would be separated. The later was slain by Sith, and Suds himself nearly killed too. While unconscious, a force ghost saw an opportunity to posses Suds and escape the dreadful planet he was stuck on. Much to the surprise of the ghost he could not fully take control of Suds mind and body, and the two clashed over control of if. Eventually, Suds won this battle, but he had managed to befriend the spirit stuck with in him. The spirit offered him lost and forbidden knowledge, as well as various other perks, including his body regressing in age.

After this incident, Suds would leave the Jedi Order in self exile. The Order was hesitant to approve of this, but after confirming that he was of little threat to anyone they agreed. Suds would roam around the galaxy for the next twenty years, becoming more and more neutral. Seeing the positives and negatives in all sides of life and the force, believing they were all necessary, and that beings should take the best of both. The man made a name for himself as being a master negotiator and philosopher, gaining an odd but large gathering of devote fans. He is known to aid both the Sith and Jedi in times of need, but mostly in the interest of neutrality. He continues to wander the stars, telling the masses of his experiences and ideology.


Height:
6'0"

Weight:
185lbs

Attire:
Typical Jedi Armor, Gray robes and Hood. Utility Belt. Leather Gloves and Boots.

Guns:
DL-44 Pistol.

Ship:
N/A.

Lightsaber:
White Kyber Crystals in both.


Other Weapons:
Vibroknife.

Practiced Forms:
Mastered:
Form III(Soresu), Form V(Shien & Djem So), Form IV(Ataru).

Proficient:
Form I(Shii-Cho), Form VII(Juyo/Vaapad)

Most practiced Force Power -
Battle Meditation.

Least practiced Force Power -
Force Stealth.

(Extras)
Passenger on Caena's ship.
Has a successful string of novels
Former Jedi Council Member
Former Dark Council Member
Has some weird cult that idolize him. Often pester when they can.
When on the verge of death, the Spirit within him takes control and prevents death.
Tea Enthusiast.
Master Tactician.
​

 

[Boi69]

Balor Lance

Age:32
Gender: Male
Home Planet: Corellia
Race/Species: Human

Personality: Balor likes to consider himself one with the force. He's your run of the mill jedi with a sense of duty to protect the galaxy and ensure it doesn't fall to the darkness. He is very complacent and at most times emotionless. But at the same time he's caring and compassionate to all beings. He's usually very popular with the younglings. Playing force games. He's also well respected amongst his jedi peers for how reliable he is.

Background: Balor was born into Corellia's poor but like most infants with a connection to the force, he was taken into the Jedi Order from parents he may never know about. As a padawan he was dedicated to learning about the force, always practicing on his free time. Sometimes he would see what the agriculture corps and medical corps would be up to. While it was boring work, he was fascinated. Many padawans thought he was way too obsessed with how the force worked, but this curiosity helped him excel. His master took appreciation to his pupil's curiosity. During Balor's time as a padawan, his master took him on various peacekeeping missions for the republic. After many instances of battle experience, Balor became a jedi knight. However, a day after his inauguration he learned that his master was killed by separatists. He tried to save hostages the separatists held and he died saving them. Balor mourned but knew that his master was one the force, and continued to live his life with serenity.

Height: 5'9
Weight: 180 lbs
Attire: (Shown above)

Lightsaber:



Lightsaber forms: Shii-Cho, Soresu, and Ataru
Most practiced Force Power: Force Heal
Least practiced Force Power: Sever Force

 

[Destiny_Dreamer]

Zakaria Tsemolvi

(Basic Information)
Name: Zakaria Tsemolvi
Alias: Sira Tajii
Age: 26 Year's Old
Gender: Female
Home Planet: Naboo
Race/Species: Human

(Story and Personal)
Personality: Zakaria has always been known to hold a hardened exterior infront of people as if to keep them at a distance from her. She is known for finding disgust easily in those who presume to be better skilled and quipped for missions when they show no proof to back such. That alone easily angers her and in her younger years often led to many squabbles and duels with fellow students she trained alongside. Zakaria is a naturally stubborn individual whom once she is set on something she doesn't like the help or involvement of others unless she is ordered to do so. Even than, with digression she holds her tongue infront of the superiors and allows herself to take said frustration out on whoever is paired with her. She is known to always be a more quiet and silent individual whom rather likes to work alone than alongside others for the simple reason she doesn't do well with others. Playing nice is certainly not her specialty. It was said in her more younger years that she was of free spirit and often would dabble in tastes frowned upon in open situations. She is a natural actress who can quickly put on a mask and become someone entirely new in a matter of moments which makes her a unique one to deal with.

Biography: Zakaria was born in the luscious landscape of Naboo some odd years ago. Her father was a devoted and slowly rising ambassador in the political circle of both Naboo's Court and the Republic itself. Many were floored by the true knowledge and noble nature he carried which seperated him from many in his area of expertise. His wife as well was seen in the public ring as a figure among the noble court as a kindred and kind spirit whom was devoted to the cause of aiding all she could in her walk of life. Blessed to their family they had three children and Zakaria was born as their eldest child. Happiness knew no bounds the moment they laid their eyes upon their precious child as they felt devoted love immediately. Years would come to pass as her mother bore two young sons to the family and all was but perfect in their lives upon Naboo. Yet, all well must end and such came to be as rebellion began to set within the ranks of the people as they found growing anger towards their new Queen whom had been placed to the throne. It was rumored that outlying forces outside her council had begun to corrupt the girl and lead her choices and decisions astray and not in the best interest of Naboo itself. This alone stirred the masses and brought disruption and growing chaos among the people as a rebellion was formed in the shadows to remove the young Queen from her throne. It was upon an unfortunate night as dusk fell that a coordinated attack was led upon the Royal Household and those whom surrounded the various other political households. Fires raged through the halls as screams pierced the darkness as people could be seen being dragged and chased from their quarters. Young Zakaria threw her door open as her orbs widened in panic as she watched the fires illuminate against her rounded hues. Her hand clasped to her mouth as she coughed and sprinted from her bedroom as she called for her parents to no avail as she felt her body collide into that of a man. His angered look moved over her as he quickly cocked the bottom of his gun in a hard thump to her temple as her gaze clouded and she fell in a crumple to the ground below as her last moments in Naboo were spent in utter darkness.

The next time she would come to awaken, she'd find herself chained in a dark room as her clothes had been shifted to tattered clothing. Soft pants would escape her lips as she felt herself growl and pull against her chains. Little to her own knowledge, she barely would notice the dark flame that had begun to ignite within the confines of her heart. She had no knowledge that she herself among other young children of the houses hand been sold off to slaver's stationed in the sand pits of Tatooine. She could easily remember herself being shoved forth as an electric prod struck to that of her side as she groaned and stumbled forth upon that of the stage. Zakaria would fall onto her knees as she peered out through her dirtied locks as they spilled over her face as the blinding light poured over her. She could hear the crowds uttering and their beady eyed looks stole over her as she could hear the robotic tone call out bids. Yet, a large bid was called out as the crowds went silent as she peered out to the sight of a dark cloaked figure nearing her as her weakened state trembled to keep straight. The man would near upon the stage as he lowered at her side as her dark would befall her ears in the darkest of temptation." I will break these chains, Small one.. But, you must reveal to me the depth of your anger.. Unharness yourself.. They have beaten you... Harmed you.. Broken that of you.. Show them you are not weak.." He uttered as his gloved hand lifted her chin as her pants became heavier and her anger began to grow within. Her hues would shift from their brilliant emerald to a dark honey coloring as her look would hold to the nearby man as she screamed loudly as the man himself would claw at his face in pain as blood streaked from his eyes. His body would collide to the ground lifeless as the cloaked man rose from the ground." Such potential stirs within you.. You shall begin your life anew... What is your name?" He questioned firmly as her hues colored once more to their normal coloring.

" Zakaria.... It's Zakaria.." She whispered out in a faint angered breath to the man as she herself lifted from the ground below.

She soon found herself being brought to Korriban where her training had begun to learn the ways of the Sith. Each day that would pass, she became stronger in the eyes of those whom monitored her. Zakaria surpassed and beat any expectation laid down before her whilst dabbling in acts that were often found disruptive and unruly to that of her superiors. Yet, the time soon passed as would the years that followed that she blossomed into a skilled and intelligent fighter whom had found herself in superior standing to those whom had taught her. The time of choosing came to be as she stood amongst those ready to be sent to train under a Master. An all but familiar voice from her past would befall her hearing as she would gaze upon the man whom had brought her here those odd years ago. A slight smirk stained at her crimson lips as she took to a knee before him as she found herself chosen by none other than the one whom had saved her.. Darth Malvorious. From those days forth, she was trained strictly and in the proposed training skills of a Sith Assassin as but shreds of her past always conflicted with the depths of her soul.

(Appearance)
Height: 5'6
Weight: 188 lbs
Attire: Shown in Character image above: Flowing cloak - Leather Corset - Knee High Boots -Specialty Device Belt: All based around darker colors.

(Equipment)
Ship: Current Vessel-Sleek Black Coloring Instead.
Lightsaber: -Jedi/Sith only- Duel Sabers
((Her pair was specially handcrafted by that of her Master. Their coloring is of a unique black unlike the well known crimson often displayed among her people. It was as her Master had told her that they had been crafted to let her stand apart from others. On most occasions they are connected to be that of a Duel saber and will disconnect only if truly needing to. Due to how they were crafted, they are specialized to be able to be thrown at a distance and return to her whether combined or as a singular saber. Her crystals come from her Master's own Former/Fallen Master.))

(Jedi/Sith Specific)
Practiced Forms: Ataru - Is that of her most mastered forms. It was the first form instilled into her as a young apprentice by that of her Master. She was taught how to remain at a quickened pace and how to deliver far deadlier and lethal blows to her enemies. This also assisted in her training as a Sith Assassin to enable her to be able to eliminate her enemy quicker in one on one terms.
Makashi - A form she learned later on in her training years under her Master when she decidedly chose the path of an Assassin. This ability was able to leave her in a path of learning precision and accuracy to ensure that she can gain the upper hand without having to rely with full devotion to her strength. It is an ability she has found herself in near approach of tailoring to her own needs in the field against an opponent.
Most practiced Force Power - Force Stealth - Deadly Sight - Drain Knowledge
Least practiced Force Power - Force Choke - Force Lightning - Force Vision

(Extras)
+ First born child to the current Ambassador of Naboo whom assumes that she was murdered as a small girl during a mid leveled scale rebellion in the city. Little to the families knowledge are they aware their daughter is alive and thriving in the darkest of paths to be had.
+ Nearly eight years ago it is rumored that she vanished for nearly eleven months with no outer communication to the Dark Council or to those of whom were considered in closer terms to her. She made an abrupt and silent return after said time period with limited questioning but, heightened suspicion to key Council members and minor individuals associated with them.
+ Has never had any form of Jedi/Padawan training in her lifetime.
+ Has had little to no communication with her Master in nearly that of a year.
+ Specialized with vehicles and tactical/undercover operations.
+ Appretince to Darth Malvorius

 

[Valen]

(Basic Information)
Name: Arlos Saarac
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Home Planet: The planet your character was born on!
Race/Species: Human

(Story and personal)
Personality: The personality of your character is most important, it helps get people to know them better outside of interaction.
Biography: The story of your character up until the beginning of the story!

(Appearance - Provide an image of your character as well, if you so choose to)
Height: Height of your character
Weight: Weight of your character
Attire: What your character wears; armor, robes, etc. ?

(Equipment)
Guns: Self explanitory
Ship: -You may own your own ship if you desire-
Other Weapons: -Bombs, vibroweaponry, etc.-

(Extras)
Anything you feel is important or maybe not so important can be thrown here. Misscellaneous stuff!

 

[Ginko The Mushishi]

(Basic Information)
Name: Torren Val Kurr.
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Home Planet: Coruscant
Race/Species: Full Human

(Story and personal)
Personality: Torren naturally is a charismatic, kind, and adventerous spirit. Though recently, Torren has begun to rely soley on survival instincts, not trusting anyone who might pose an obstacle to him. He is afraid to a degree, while keeping himself grounded by only using the force as a mediator about his sporadic emotions that might cause him to fail.

Biography: Born to a noble family of Coruscant, Torren was easily influenced and had a certain knack for the unknown, the unusual. This unknown entity was "The Force". He spent 10 years within his noble family without so much as an understanding of how deep this knowledge of the Force could go. A black sheep if you would, Torren had to live his life in a totally different perspective than that of his family and when the time came for the Jedi to find more padawans, Torren was picked out. Torren's world opened up after he was chosen among a select few to partake in the Jedi Initiate Trials, which would serve to make him a Padawan.
The Jedi Initiate Trials were difficult, but Torren used his own intuition and understanding to surpass the Trials and finally become a Padawan at the age of 12, younger than the rest but eager to learn all the same, and in all that time Torren did learn; studying, understanding, and mastering the force was what Torren's training consisted of as a Padawan, now learning that this entity that had been with him for all his life was "The Force", Torren found a new appreciation for being different than his family.
Time would allow Torren to shape himself, and at the age of 15 Torren convinced the council to shorten the length for his Jedi Trials, to become a Jedi Knight. They would only go so low as 17, but that was all Torren really needed to confirm with in the end. Torren passed his Jedi Trials at 17 with flying colors, announced a Jedi Knight at such an age too was no normal feat at least! Torren held onto this with great pride, finally feeling like all of his work paid off. Now as a Jedi Knight, Torren and his master were together on various missions up until recently..Torren refers to this as "the attack".
Torren and his Master were ambushed by a Sith Assassin, a powerful one at that. Taken unaware, Torren's master was struck down with brutal percision, and Torren was only lucky to have survived the fight with the Sith Assassin, stalling and running just enough to keep the Sith Assassin at bay. With Master in hand, Torren returned to the Jedi Council with a grave feeling, the Jedi Council had turned on him. Believing Torren was the killer of his master through substantial "evidence" Torren was branded a traitor and an outcast to be captured by the Council and put on trial for the crime.

Now, Torren runs and hides from the Jedi Council, and lives in fear that every-day he will have to fight those he once felt would protect him, in hopes of survival. Unable to prove his innocence, Torren travels across planets, keeping a sweet distance between himself and the Council, while also being tracked down by the Sith Assassin that failed to bring him down...

(Appearance - Provide an image of your character as well, if you so choose to)


Height: 5'11''
Weight: 195 lbs.
Attire: Black robes over light-weight plated armor. Torren also has the tattered over-sized robe of his master as a memento.

(Equipment)
Guns: None, and Torren has a horrible shot at most. Probably only good if at close-range.
Ship:


Lightsaber: -Jedi/Sith only-
Torren owns both his Master's lightsaber, and his own. His Lightsaber has a yellow kyber crystal embedded into the chamber, while his master's has a green kyber crystal.


(Pictures from Saberforge)
Other Weapons: His fists.

(Jedi/Sith Specific)
Practiced Forms: Makashi (Form II) and Juyo (Form VII)

Most practiced Force Power - Force Push, Torren's strongest force power. Strong enough to break bones.
Least practiced Force Power - Force Mindtrick.

(Extras)
Torren extensively tries to meditate, in hopes of being calmed by the force in his current state of hiding and being an outcast.

 

[Ryse]

"To survive her own darkness, she strangled the stars for their light~"

Name: Vanessa V. Valentine
Alias: The Red Huntress
Race: Dathomiri
Age: Thirty Eight
Gender: Female
Homeworld: Dathomir
Loyalties: Varies
Class: Nightsister
Occupation: Huntress

A particular fascination lies nurtured under her oppressive seams. The thirst for somatic superiority. The beautiful, the superficial husk to which her eyes long to ravage and her fingers ache to purge from the pearly bone beneath. To render tissues and paint her own canvas of grisly disfigurement. Though such drastic pleasures are tempered beneath her simple desire to covet, to substantiate herself over them and make them crawl upon the floor in quiescent conquest. Subservience. Sweet slavery, overvalued liberty pilfered.

She has a similar fascination for gold, treasures; trinkets that shine, and valuables that glimmer. Everything of corporeal splendor must be owned, she must have all, and she is above no means to obtain her desires. Whether by deception, or simply merciless and perverse devastation. Her jealous rage, her demoniac beguilement. Adonian rite, the smoldering grace of Apollo and the intentful lavish of Artemis's hunterian demand, she is the last remnant of primeval strike, the bow and arrow that brought down the erymanthian boar, the sharpened drive of the sword through the impassable flesh of nemean lion, and that severed the screaming heads of the lernaen hydra all within the single, fell blow of hardied hands; famed bane of Hera, the lustful fault of Zeus, within her, she carries the herculean heritage of divinity's past and the mortal fracture of human lethality.

Shuddering power of eidolon regime, reigning imminence of rugged kings of the wilds, it drenches her in a thickened slather of sworn herald made in the promise of wrenching blood cut from the thrumming heart-lines of a dying sovereign of primitive strain and drawn from the aegis of iron chalices. Looming, muscular, she is the Templar of holy divinity, a seraphic creation derived to become the bulwark of the ryche, a partisan, a knight devoted wholly to the presentation of chosen cause that had become the need for servitude of a higher, intended calling. Every inch of sleekened, roughened curvatures that brim with the hardened press of delving flesh honed, edging muscle that were wrought to withhold, to remain adamant against driving force that shift, ripple, and curve in the arch of gleaming sinew forged in the searing pyres of rigid cast, of Hephaestus's dwelling brilliance beneath sable, crimson flesh. She is the last meld born phillistine, of liberated savagery, the czars of old with her golden kissed eyes of steadfast assertion of unfaltering resolve that remains intent upon its final purpose; to destroy and conquer.

She is the goddess of seduction and the priest of destruction. Victims will shudder in her quake and bow down to their unholy ruler. A finesse virile gorged beyond the grooves of mist laden secretion, forever loitering along the tender, corroding banks of malevolent chill, an enticing, sickly aura of frigid seduction plaintively nipping at agile scolded heels. Whose lithe, cajoling embrace whispers of darkness, a scorching laden caress leaving flesh horrifyingly destitute, thrashed in succulent stagnancy from intrinsic skeletal allure. A churning altar echoing of fog, of haze clouded in incendiary delirium, she is the face of glacial provocation, the cooling touch that beseeches the towering rows of incendiary hellish flame, the corridor of endless gloss, light, and ill fates swallowed and consumed with harsh, self-vindictive compliance.

Se is wrung of moral blood, but ever still possesses the conduct proper of her minor centuries long ruling, austerity a sinking, flowing entity, within which she wallows in the intoxicant dusts of socerous marrows long since dispersed. A ravishing sense of quiet discord barely humbles the reaping of her vainglorious engrossment, rampant lacings of venom induced hysteria carefully hidden beneath wrappings of immaculate propriety, frigid elegance, and poker faced debauchery all calmly mantling the dipped wax of swarthy, licentious filth feasting and breeding beyond the sultry veil of empyrean elitism.

Her image is everything and anything; a culture of splendor inseminated therein her noble cultivation and golden woven blood. In keen discernment her sophistication and restraint are the greatest of her tools within an inventory of polished felicity. In the vigilant spirit of prudence and precision, she waxes, and wanes, as the foundation of his endeavors would cause a discreetly judicious psyche to dictate.The all seeing; the all knowing; ruminations and observance bear no heed to rectitude, only efficiency. Inadequacy is neither entertained nor tolerated; for naught is her patience with undivided weakness. Each blemish she finds, on those who surround her, or upon herself, is viciously scrutinized, and mercilessly sacrificed to the flames and scattered into dust.

A precursor of famine, the ravager of beauty and the usurper of wealth. She is a woman composed of debilitating darkness, the cavalier of decay wrapped gallantly in genteel robes. A curved beak gilded, glimmering in its satiating garnishments of mannerly offence, acerbic syllables sure to scorch (the salt in a weeping wound) and appall, though bandage with liquid honey. There is a predatory charisma which exudes from every encrusted aperture; a miasmic allure, a tyrannous magnetism which alike moth to flame, only fascinates to burn.

To scald the skin, and fester the flesh. Classic, dapper debonair, she extrudes the more roughened persuasion of feminine refinement, the hard boned stature absent of soft and fleshy distinction to define a more a lacking caliber, but there is nothing upon her that manifests the slightest provoking thought of subtlety within the hardened expanse of powerful, rippling sinew, and delving, calloused features of someone who had to mature far beyond their due.

Of considerable frame, she stands of herculean derive, toned and edged in the sharpened raze of a driving blade, primal and coiled bearing of silent wait of a crusade vindicator, an artisan of both impassioned affair and war as its contrive lines the thickened proportion of virile eminence. Laden deep in the thickened raze of wildened obsidian, lavished in the profound hue of obscurity and penumbra, she is a creature of dusk and shade that looms in the contour of evoking the memory of midnight, of searing torridity, and the listless chime of carillon warning in the distance beneath the tracing intimacy of fevered fingertips as burnished, bedroom eyes of avid gold eclipse in the smoldering veil of carnality.

Shoulder blades arch and coil in acute strength and physical prowess, from their erotically protruding joints bask and spread the great wings of seraph's grace, breadth wide, power discernible, adorned in the long, thickened flounce of feathery aerodynamic down. She is the light who casts a lustrous shadow of eerie darkness, an enveloping grandeur shorn from years of ghostly, clandestine propriety.

Supremacy flows through the invisible chasms of an iron moat eroded by the soft ebbing tide of chilling waters. Embraced, in the saccharine fever of early Winter's fervent ice, her lips of pallid stone persist in sealed devilry, secrets hoarded in possessive fixation, the argent delicacy of this ripened lamb silhouetted against a mantle of supernal bewitchment. Cloying chess-master contessa; she exhales the seething breath of goddesses, embellished therein the conniving coil of mortal intrigue.

The exemplified omen of pestilence, an ophidian Queen, Mother of Dragons, parse fibers and sinewy hides. She is wrought of volcanic marble, a deific countenance chiseled in reptilian devotion; her physique bowing like a prehensile avifauna, svelte curvature arcing in viperish flexibility, giving the impression of nimble fragility. Entangled by thorns; her bodice oft rife with cold machinating beauty, android and steely, whose desires lay dead and frigid within ophidian, slender shell. She were imprisoned betwixt the diaphanous fabric of lethargic stupor.

Barbed wire forged, woven of stygian pearl; hues of a tinted gold, they manifest an exquisite iridescence across adonial musculature, angled limb and sinew chiseled with gleaming jackknife artistry gleaned from the bow of artemis, carved in subtle sacrilege donning threaded heartstrings of heralded vessel. Sumptuous athleticism is lacquered in the scaling of draconian plate.

Her clothes are reaped from the throes of blinding darkness, the somber saturation of searing winter's falling agleam within elegantly whorled coiffure, hirsute curls and winding plume framing visage of baronial masculinity, temptingly and seductively mature in its cold, sinister regard. She is a mass of emotionless misfortune, a creature born therein the throes of cynical ordainment. Careened and cultivated in a sealed curse of misanthropic iniquity, a woman that views the world through lenses of darkened marble, the reality of the world a creation carved meticulously from the bleached bones of sin and transgression.

Devoid of hope, teeming with furtive despair, she dons no vein of faith, merely the veil of numb apathy, indifference a swarm of locusts forever collectively feeding upon the crops of trust which attempt to grow within her deadened psyche. No breed of quest fuels her, for such exquisite emptiness is soft filled by they who chooses what of which she will consist. She bends to the will of wrath.

A willing contessa; the blind courtesan offers freely the flesh of her neck in willowy propriety. And yet, an untouchable pariah in way of essence and chilling ambiance. A maw touched by Ani, darkened and burnt by the flames of the damned in Hell, it scorches her tongue and taunts her jaws to a mask of disguise, a mask of lies and a mask of darkness. Mother. Holds in a high regard, beautiful visage and delicate doll. Father. Immortal being, a God. No ropes of love tie these two together, only united in their goal to create something worthy of their legacy.

Tell me audience...is she not worthy?

​

Illusionist: Utilizing 'Mind Trick' V is capable of ensnaring the minds of others and making them see, feel, smell, or taste whatever she can project on them. Possibly her most potent ability and also the most versatile she will often use this power to incapacitate foes or fool them so she may avoid direct conflict which still to this day is not her strong suit. The complexity of her illusions are high given her mental prowess and she is capable of fully trapping someone within their own mind, putting them in a coma-like state.

Witchcraft: V is only loosely familiar with the dark side practices of the Dathomiri Nightsisters and as a result has dabbled in Witchcraft but what she does know she is rather proficient in. She can corrupt others and do harm to those she wills her intent upon with intense focus and sheer willpower. However, it is by far her least effective practice and she only relys on it when needing to track a target, scout and area, or potentially lay a trap for those she may be hunting.

Mind Eater: As a race capable of devouring the life force of others V can reach deep into the minds of others, capable of probing their minds and devouring their knowledge and experiences. This ability aids with interrogation and prying information out of individuals who may not be so willing to talk, allowing V to quietly search for the information that she may need while feeding from an individual.

The Sight: An ability that V shares with her pet bird, Vanessa is capable of linking her mind with her pet and seeing through the eyes of her companion. This unique ability also links itself unto whomever she may feed off of should she decide to spill her own force signature into her prey. This force ability was taught to her by the Nightsisters and it is effective for recon and scouting ahead without endangering oneself. This allows V to get a leg up on those who may be attempting to flee from her as well as help her keep an eye out for potential danger when alone. The downside to this specific ability is she is mentally linked to her familiar, and thus any damage it sustains she also will feel and the loss of her familiar can result is severely damaging physiological harm.

Devour: This trait is less of a force ability and more as a racial quirk that goes in hand with her being half Energy Vampire. Vanessa is capable of attaching herself to a living, sentient being and consuming their life force and adding it to her own in order to rejuvenate herself. If mortally wounded she can potentially fully heal after feeding off another humanoid and if they are force sensitive as well she can increase the strength of her force abilities. While consuming the blood of her foes grants Vanessa physical benefits devouring them through the force by touching and holding them strengthens her ability to preform force sensitive abilities. All of this however comes with a vast set of drawbacks, for example, devouring the blood of the sick or ill will infect Vanessa with a virus that will sicken her and severely weaken her. Not to mention that not only is this a racial quirk, it is the primary means of survival for her species meaning that should she go extended periods of time without feeding she will grow thinner, paler, and wither away after several weeks. But thats only if she does not first go feral, a lack of sustenance can force her into a feral state in order to survive where she loses all human awareness. On top of this, consuming too much can also throw her into a blood raged frenzy which puts herself and anyone around her in danger.

​

• Sith Sword (Cane)
• Small Frigate
• Light Resistant Sunglasses
• Vibrodagger
• Curved Lightsaber

OOC: Quick little profile i whipped up for Vanessa. I'll add extra info later ^^.

 

[ThatGuyWithSouvlaki]

"To survive her own darkness, she strangled the stars for their light~"

Name: Vanessa V. Valentine
Alias: The Red Huntress
Race: Dathomiri
Age: Thirty Eight
Gender: Female
Homeworld: Dathomir
Loyalties: Varies
Class: Nightsister
Occupation: Huntress

A particular fascination lies nurtured under her oppressive seams. The thirst for somatic superiority. The beautiful, the superficial husk to which her eyes long to ravage and her fingers ache to purge from the pearly bone beneath. To render tissues and paint her own canvas of grisly disfigurement. Though such drastic pleasures are tempered beneath her simple desire to covet, to substantiate herself over them and make them crawl upon the floor in quiescent conquest. Subservience. Sweet slavery, overvalued liberty pilfered.

She has a similar fascination for gold, treasures; trinkets that shine, and valuables that glimmer. Everything of corporeal splendor must be owned, she must have all, and she is above no means to obtain her desires. Whether by deception, or simply merciless and perverse devastation. Her jealous rage, her demoniac beguilement. Adonian rite, the smoldering grace of Apollo and the intentful lavish of Artemis's hunterian demand, she is the last remnant of primeval strike, the bow and arrow that brought down the erymanthian boar, the sharpened drive of the sword through the impassable flesh of nemean lion, and that severed the screaming heads of the lernaen hydra all within the single, fell blow of hardied hands; famed bane of Hera, the lustful fault of Zeus, within her, she carries the herculean heritage of divinity's past and the mortal fracture of human lethality.

Shuddering power of eidolon regime, reigning imminence of rugged kings of the wilds, it drenches her in a thickened slather of sworn herald made in the promise of wrenching blood cut from the thrumming heart-lines of a dying sovereign of primitive strain and drawn from the aegis of iron chalices. Looming, muscular, she is the Templar of holy divinity, a seraphic creation derived to become the bulwark of the ryche, a partisan, a knight devoted wholly to the presentation of chosen cause that had become the need for servitude of a higher, intended calling. Every inch of sleekened, roughened curvatures that brim with the hardened press of delving flesh honed, edging muscle that were wrought to withhold, to remain adamant against driving force that shift, ripple, and curve in the arch of gleaming sinew forged in the searing pyres of rigid cast, of Hephaestus's dwelling brilliance beneath sable, crimson flesh. She is the last meld born phillistine, of liberated savagery, the czars of old with her golden kissed eyes of steadfast assertion of unfaltering resolve that remains intent upon its final purpose; to destroy and conquer.

She is the goddess of seduction and the priest of destruction. Victims will shudder in her quake and bow down to their unholy ruler. A finesse virile gorged beyond the grooves of mist laden secretion, forever loitering along the tender, corroding banks of malevolent chill, an enticing, sickly aura of frigid seduction plaintively nipping at agile scolded heels. Whose lithe, cajoling embrace whispers of darkness, a scorching laden caress leaving flesh horrifyingly destitute, thrashed in succulent stagnancy from intrinsic skeletal allure. A churning altar echoing of fog, of haze clouded in incendiary delirium, she is the face of glacial provocation, the cooling touch that beseeches the towering rows of incendiary hellish flame, the corridor of endless gloss, light, and ill fates swallowed and consumed with harsh, self-vindictive compliance.

Se is wrung of moral blood, but ever still possesses the conduct proper of her minor centuries long ruling, austerity a sinking, flowing entity, within which she wallows in the intoxicant dusts of socerous marrows long since dispersed. A ravishing sense of quiet discord barely humbles the reaping of her vainglorious engrossment, rampant lacings of venom induced hysteria carefully hidden beneath wrappings of immaculate propriety, frigid elegance, and poker faced debauchery all calmly mantling the dipped wax of swarthy, licentious filth feasting and breeding beyond the sultry veil of empyrean elitism.

Her image is everything and anything; a culture of splendor inseminated therein her noble cultivation and golden woven blood. In keen discernment her sophistication and restraint are the greatest of her tools within an inventory of polished felicity. In the vigilant spirit of prudence and precision, she waxes, and wanes, as the foundation of his endeavors would cause a discreetly judicious psyche to dictate.The all seeing; the all knowing; ruminations and observance bear no heed to rectitude, only efficiency. Inadequacy is neither entertained nor tolerated; for naught is her patience with undivided weakness. Each blemish she finds, on those who surround her, or upon herself, is viciously scrutinized, and mercilessly sacrificed to the flames and scattered into dust.

A precursor of famine, the ravager of beauty and the usurper of wealth. She is a woman composed of debilitating darkness, the cavalier of decay wrapped gallantly in genteel robes. A curved beak gilded, glimmering in its satiating garnishments of mannerly offence, acerbic syllables sure to scorch (the salt in a weeping wound) and appall, though bandage with liquid honey. There is a predatory charisma which exudes from every encrusted aperture; a miasmic allure, a tyrannous magnetism which alike moth to flame, only fascinates to burn.

To scald the skin, and fester the flesh. Classic, dapper debonair, she extrudes the more roughened persuasion of feminine refinement, the hard boned stature absent of soft and fleshy distinction to define a more a lacking caliber, but there is nothing upon her that manifests the slightest provoking thought of subtlety within the hardened expanse of powerful, rippling sinew, and delving, calloused features of someone who had to mature far beyond their due.

Of considerable frame, she stands of herculean derive, toned and edged in the sharpened raze of a driving blade, primal and coiled bearing of silent wait of a crusade vindicator, an artisan of both impassioned affair and war as its contrive lines the thickened proportion of virile eminence. Laden deep in the thickened raze of wildened obsidian, lavished in the profound hue of obscurity and penumbra, she is a creature of dusk and shade that looms in the contour of evoking the memory of midnight, of searing torridity, and the listless chime of carillon warning in the distance beneath the tracing intimacy of fevered fingertips as burnished, bedroom eyes of avid gold eclipse in the smoldering veil of carnality.

Shoulder blades arch and coil in acute strength and physical prowess, from their erotically protruding joints bask and spread the great wings of seraph's grace, breadth wide, power discernible, adorned in the long, thickened flounce of feathery aerodynamic down. She is the light who casts a lustrous shadow of eerie darkness, an enveloping grandeur shorn from years of ghostly, clandestine propriety.

Supremacy flows through the invisible chasms of an iron moat eroded by the soft ebbing tide of chilling waters. Embraced, in the saccharine fever of early Winter's fervent ice, her lips of pallid stone persist in sealed devilry, secrets hoarded in possessive fixation, the argent delicacy of this ripened lamb silhouetted against a mantle of supernal bewitchment. Cloying chess-master contessa; she exhales the seething breath of goddesses, embellished therein the conniving coil of mortal intrigue.

The exemplified omen of pestilence, an ophidian Queen, Mother of Dragons, parse fibers and sinewy hides. She is wrought of volcanic marble, a deific countenance chiseled in reptilian devotion; her physique bowing like a prehensile avifauna, svelte curvature arcing in viperish flexibility, giving the impression of nimble fragility. Entangled by thorns; her bodice oft rife with cold machinating beauty, android and steely, whose desires lay dead and frigid within ophidian, slender shell. She were imprisoned betwixt the diaphanous fabric of lethargic stupor.

Barbed wire forged, woven of stygian pearl; hues of a tinted gold, they manifest an exquisite iridescence across adonial musculature, angled limb and sinew chiseled with gleaming jackknife artistry gleaned from the bow of artemis, carved in subtle sacrilege donning threaded heartstrings of heralded vessel. Sumptuous athleticism is lacquered in the scaling of draconian plate.

Her clothes are reaped from the throes of blinding darkness, the somber saturation of searing winter's falling agleam within elegantly whorled coiffure, hirsute curls and winding plume framing visage of baronial masculinity, temptingly and seductively mature in its cold, sinister regard. She is a mass of emotionless misfortune, a creature born therein the throes of cynical ordainment. Careened and cultivated in a sealed curse of misanthropic iniquity, a woman that views the world through lenses of darkened marble, the reality of the world a creation carved meticulously from the bleached bones of sin and transgression.

Devoid of hope, teeming with furtive despair, she dons no vein of faith, merely the veil of numb apathy, indifference a swarm of locusts forever collectively feeding upon the crops of trust which attempt to grow within her deadened psyche. No breed of quest fuels her, for such exquisite emptiness is soft filled by they who chooses what of which she will consist. She bends to the will of wrath.

A willing contessa; the blind courtesan offers freely the flesh of her neck in willowy propriety. And yet, an untouchable pariah in way of essence and chilling ambiance. A maw touched by Ani, darkened and burnt by the flames of the damned in Hell, it scorches her tongue and taunts her jaws to a mask of disguise, a mask of lies and a mask of darkness. Mother. Holds in a high regard, beautiful visage and delicate doll. Father. Immortal being, a God. No ropes of love tie these two together, only united in their goal to create something worthy of their legacy.

Tell me audience...is she not worthy?

​

Illusionist: Utilizing 'Mind Trick' V is capable of ensnaring the minds of others and making them see, feel, smell, or taste whatever she can project on them. Possibly her most potent ability and also the most versatile she will often use this power to incapacitate foes or fool them so she may avoid direct conflict which still to this day is not her strong suit. The complexity of her illusions are high given her mental prowess and she is capable of fully trapping someone within their own mind, putting them in a coma-like state.

Witchcraft: V is only loosely familiar with the dark side practices of the Dathomiri Nightsisters and as a result has dabbled in Witchcraft but what she does know she is rather proficient in. She can corrupt others and do harm to those she wills her intent upon with intense focus and sheer willpower. However, it is by far her least effective practice and she only relys on it when needing to track a target, scout and area, or potentially lay a trap for those she may be hunting.

Mind Eater: As a race capable of devouring the life force of others V can reach deep into the minds of others, capable of probing their minds and devouring their knowledge and experiences. This ability aids with interrogation and prying information out of individuals who may not be so willing to talk, allowing V to quietly search for the information that she may need while feeding from an individual.

The Sight: An ability that V shares with her pet bird, Vanessa is capable of linking her mind with her pet and seeing through the eyes of her companion. This unique ability also links itself unto whomever she may feed off of should she decide to spill her own force signature into her prey. This force ability was taught to her by the Nightsisters and it is effective for recon and scouting ahead without endangering oneself. This allows V to get a leg up on those who may be attempting to flee from her as well as help her keep an eye out for potential danger when alone. The downside to this specific ability is she is mentally linked to her familiar, and thus any damage it sustains she also will feel and the loss of her familiar can result is severely damaging physiological harm.

Devour: This trait is less of a force ability and more as a racial quirk that goes in hand with her being half Energy Vampire. Vanessa is capable of attaching herself to a living, sentient being and consuming their life force and adding it to her own in order to rejuvenate herself. If mortally wounded she can potentially fully heal after feeding off another humanoid and if they are force sensitive as well she can increase the strength of her force abilities. While consuming the blood of her foes grants Vanessa physical benefits devouring them through the force by touching and holding them strengthens her ability to preform force sensitive abilities. All of this however comes with a vast set of drawbacks, for example, devouring the blood of the sick or ill will infect Vanessa with a virus that will sicken her and severely weaken her. Not to mention that not only is this a racial quirk, it is the primary means of survival for her species meaning that should she go extended periods of time without feeding she will grow thinner, paler, and wither away after several weeks. But thats only if she does not first go feral, a lack of sustenance can force her into a feral state in order to survive where she loses all human awareness. On top of this, consuming too much can also throw her into a blood raged frenzy which puts herself and anyone around her in danger.

​

• Sith Sword (Cane)
• Small Frigate
• Light Resistant Sunglasses
• Vibrodagger
• Curved Lightsaber

OOC: Quick little profile i whipped up for Vanessa. I'll add extra info later ^^.

Heh "little".

 

[Ginko The Mushishi]

Sir Fungus Sylvio Boi69 the IC is up!
Sorry if you guys didn't notice it! That was my bad XD

Fandom - Star Wars: Legacy of the Old Republic (IC)

The battle against the SITH and the JEDI have come to a stalemate, both sides await a large clash that shall bring about the end of one Order or the other, the JEDI sit idle, awaiting to tip the scales back into the balance of the force. While the SITH, begin to wear thin the JEDI's Order...

www.rpnation.com

 

[Destiny_Dreamer]

Corinnia Vitalium

(Basic Information)
Name: Corinnia Azera Vitalium
Age: 29
Gender: Female
Home Planet: Coruscant
Race/Species: Human

(Story and personal)
Personality: Cora since childhood had been blessed with kindness unlike any other. She would always be one of the few who would light up the world for those around her whether intended or not. She is one who always tries to do the best she can in all that she does and will place herself on the line for others. As a young child, she was always known to be the level headed child who always remained calm and patient in her teachings. Yet, she was always naturally charming and devious in her words and mannerisms and would often be found cunning at times. As the years went on, such developed and matured into tactics she could use with others. She often follows her own truths and is devoted to the cause of doing what is right. She does struggle though with the darkness that does swell within her and in small times has found herself to be weak.

Biography: Corinnia was born to a small merchant family upon Coruscant whom ran business contracts with several well known clubs, restaurants and even at times with the Jedi Temple. She herself was accustomed and new every part that there was in Coruscant from the lower levels of living to that of the higher one's. In her early years that she began to show signs of being one who was force sensitive around the mere age of seven. Her parent's made no hesitation to reach out to the Order whom made swift business of examining Cora by closer means. It was through their evaluations that they came to discover that she truly was force sensitive and offered a place among the Order to learn how to develop and tailor her skills and one that her parent's willingly consented to let her do. It was with heavy yet proud heart's that they watched their daughter be led away from their home. Cora could still remember stealing a single glance back at them as a single tear fell from her mother's eye as she watched her leave. That would be the last time that she herself would ever lay eyes on her family and the place she once called home.

Some odd years would pass as Cora grew into a strong willed young girl who stood fearless in most of her trials held within the order. She seemingly held friendships with most of those she trained alongside and yet.. One would stand to hold stronger then the rest. In her younger years , she met the guarded boy by the name of Thaylan. During their classes, she'd often catch glimpses of him remaining distant from their fellow classmates and burying himself in his studies at times. He did spark a curious chord within her one could say as she found herself wanting a chance to be able to work her way into his little bubble.. To offer her friendship to him when all others had seemingly abandoned the concept. That day would present itself some months later as they had been within the training room where beams had been placed to train their balance and agility to work in higher elevations. Cora held mid level across the beam as she breathed in deeply and gave a small run forward as she somersaulted in a shaky balance to the stand that laid ahead. Her classmates would give a quick round of claps as she heard someone else thud to the mats that held below to a beam across from her. Her head would cock to the side as she gauged the sight of Thaylan held sprawled to one of the mats as some student's were hushed in the midst of their slight giggles. As Thaylan began to straighten himself, a small hand would be held before him as he'd meet the warm smile that Cora offered to him." You looked like you needed some help. Mind if I do?" She asked as the boy's guarded gaze questioned her as he slowly eased his hand into her own as that small moment would structure the depths of their own friendship.

The days of their young youth would path as days turned to years as both Thaylan and Cora entered their teenage years. Each would be hand selected to a Master as Master Natari Ore came to choose that of Cora as her own Padawan. She had sensed something great within her student and that alone held as a guiding factor in her choice whilst her old comrade, Master Cantral Maj took Thaylan in as his own. Over that time, the pair often served and trained alongside one another as their Master's often held missions with one another. Cora herself had blossomed over the years as she had become a rare beauty in the eyes of those who would dare to not claim her as such. Yet, something had begun to shift within her soul as she had her times with Thaylan. Their passing glances and brief smiles left something to imprint within her soul as she would often find herself defenseless around him. She held no understanding to what these feelings were that stirred within but they were ones she willing chose to neglect.

Before either of them knew it, they had become full fledged Jedi knights as their dreams became reality as she could remember glancing to him with a bright smile tinted at her rose tinted lips. As the braid was cut from both of their hair's, a sense of joy filled both as she winked quick to him with a chuckle as his solemn look held warmth to her gaze as he merely shook his head. It wasn't long into their new status that tragic news would find Thaylan in the form of his sister's death as she could see the anger painted in his look that day as she had sought him out. He all but reacted in anger to her as he shoved past her and she felt the emotions unknowingly fill her vibrant emerald hues to the vanishing sight of him.

It was later into the night that she decidedly had chosen to seek him out as her own sense's guided her to the place of their first meeting. She'd all but near the slight crack in the door to peer in at the sight of him skillfully directing his saber into the multiple training devices levitating before him. Her fingers would enclose to the panel of the door to quietly guide it open as she entered the space with due silence." Thaylan.." She'd whisper out to him as she could easily feel the pain and anger stirring within him as he'd pause in his current actions. His gaze would slowly seek her own as she'd see the ghost of the boy she had first met as his look held guarded and conflicted over her as he asked her to leave bluntly. A small tremble would move against her lips as she stepped forward to place her hand against his shoulder softly as she was spared little reaction time. His hand had clasped her wrist as he searched her look as she held unmoved as her freed hand stretched forth to cup against his cheek." Thaylan.. It's alright to hurt.. I-I'm the last person who'd ever judge you.." She urged to him as the next move he'd take would leave her defenseless as he pulled her into him and stole his mouth warmly to hers in a kiss. Cora suddenly would strike his cheek as she shuffled back with her fingers pressed against her lips as heavy breaths would befall from both. Rejection held to Thaylan's look as he cast his look aside as she felt a storm of foreign emotions fill her.. Familiar ones she had encountered all those years ago and had left her unsure. Yet, her body took control as she strode forward to clasp his cheek as her hues would search his before her lips sought his in a warmed kiss in return as neither gave thought to the vows given. For once, she understood her own feelings and the mutual ones that he carried for her. Weeks would turn to a month of their secret meetings and rendezvous with one another as she for once found a true happiness that had been foreign to her for so long.

To Reveal the Rest within the RP...

(Appearance)
Height: 5'7
Weight: 198 lbs
Attire: What your character wears; armor, robes, etc. ? Outfit of Choice

(Equipment)
Ship: - Ship
Lightsaber: -Jedi/Sith only- http://orig02.deviantart.net/ff43/f/2015/085/c/f/ahsoka_tano_s_lightsabers___star_wars_rebels_by_jamesvillanueva-d8kjtwh.png

(Jedi/Sith Specific)
Practiced Forms:
Juyo
Soresu
Most practiced Force Power - Force Light/Mastered - Force Stun - Telepathy
Least practiced Force Power - Force Protection - Mind Trick

(Extras)