BN's workshop

[Black Noise]

Spoiler: 1

Murder Incarnate ​

[fancybox4="http://24.media.tumblr.com/99846a9def67bc926297710e2db07274/tumblr_mkwg9s1mPu1rlliouo1_500.gif"]FULL NAME: Ari-ani
AGE: Entitled 20-something
SPECIES: Privileged Humanoid
HEIGHT: 6'7-ish Feet
WEIGHT: 190-ish Pounds
EYE COLOR: Red-ish
HAIR COLOR: Black-ish
SKIN COLOR: White-ish
MARKINGS: Something something never tell.
FACTION: None.
RANK: Whaaat?
Ari-ani is an interesting woman. Standing at 6'7, she towers over most everyone. Not a gentle giant by any means, the dark haired woman is a monster in every sense of the word. Carrying around two automatic blaster pistols, a dual bladed saberstaff, a large vibro-combat knife, and two standard 5 meter sticky thermal detonators, 'armed to the teeth' becomes an understatement with Ari-ani. While she rarely, if ever, reveals her blade, she is a well trained adept of lightsaber combat. Her force skills are, however, lacking. She is not weak or untrained by any means, it is simply that she only knows how to utilize the basic abilities of telekinesis, sense, speed, jump, and sight. Anything outside of this is currently outside of her abilities.
When Ari-ani is out on a job, she wears a crimson trenchcoat over a set of black fatigues. She covers her eyes at all times with yellow glasses or goggles in order to hide her cybernetics. In a voluntary surgery, she replaced both her eyes with cybernetics. This allows her to more easily track opponents and their movements, even those aided by the Force. However, it also makes her more susceptible to electric attacks blinding her.
When out on the town, Ari wears a pale white dress suit, meticulously well cared for. She still wears her glasses, the less people know about her, the better.
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Personality​

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In a word, crazy. In a sentence, she is murder incarnate. Misfiring empathy, sociopathy, and suffering from post traumatic stress make for a bad combo in a normally functioning being. However, it makes for a great combo in a force sensitive murderer. While her clients prefer the name 'bounty hunter,' the terms 'mass murderer' and 'genocidal maniac' also work just fine. She is unkind, mean, and easily angered. Delighting in the misfortune of others, she will go out of her way to hurt people.
She's also very blunt, quippish at other's expense, and quick to bite off the head of anyone who looks at her funny. Very childish, she often does things for little to no reason, inciting others and fighting for fighting's sake. Her speech reflects that of one who doesn't watch their language nor filter themselves in any way. Her voice is a constant, uncleansed stream of her thoughts.
Ari-ani's pain is not funny, nor are her actions. In the wide galaxy, many people experience trauma, and they either come out of it for the better or for worse. In the case of Ari-ani, she came out much, much worse. She doesn't open up, she doesn't trust anyone, and her triggers can cause her to fly into uncontrollable, paranoid rages. Ariani suffers, but it is not a quiet suffering. Loud and uncontrollable, it is like a fire that burns all who try to comfort or understand it, as well as all who come in contact with it.
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BIOGRAPHY​

[fancybox4="http://rs1220.pbsrc.com/albums/dd458/Cycloned1995/alucard_girlycard_by_armorkingtv21-d6v8yo2_zpsdekjzdwj.png?w=480&h=480&fit=clip"]

theme​

Once, a long time ago, there was a mommy and daddy who loved each other very much. Then they had a daughter, they hated her, then each other, then they snapped and killed each other!
The end.
The kriff you mean that's not going to cut it?! I'm not going to spill my childhood sob story just because someone asks in a polite voice. You want to know about me? I'll start where I want to start and I'll stop when I feel like it. Suck it up sith spit, you think you can call the shots?! I'm the one in control here! No cell can hold me!
When I was fourteen, I was on my own. Kids at that age, they think they can survive on their own, heh. Wanna be an adult? No you kriffing don't, especially in today's galaxy. The galaxy is cruel, unforgiving, and anything but 'quiet.' I'm not going to go into details.
Skip to sixteen, I found the Sith. Fancy motherless sons and their infernal laser swords would attract any angry kid. I had no family, was depressed out of my mind, more numb than an overdosed junkie, and had no regard for my own safety. It made me perfect for the group training setting. No one could threaten me or my family, there was no leverage to get me out of the way. The only option was to fight me.
If there's one thing I loved back when I was a kid, it was fighting, and I made sure everyone else knew it. I challenged everyone, fought everyone, and beat the living poodoo out of every schutta that looked at me funny. One of the Saber masters found particular interest in my Saber skills, even with subpar force abilities. I excelled under their teaching, and things seemed to be looking up for me.
Skip to eighteen, I'm doing well, and I'm still fairly young. Up for promotion, my dueling skills get better every day, and I've even taken up blaster lessons. How could things go south from here? I had know idea how good I had it. That is, until my last group duel. It was supposed to be for promotion, but it went pretty bad.
Designed to be a five Sith free for all, last man standing type deal, with the winner taking a promotion. However, the other four decided the best way to humiliate me would be to band together and utilize my history as a weapon against me. I don't know how they found out about what happened to my parents and my sister, or my childhood medical records, but they did, and they used it to hurt me. It worked, for the most part. I don't remember much, most of what I'm about to say is what I was told afterwards. They beat me by blasting me with a bantha fodder-ton of flashbangs. I don't understand what happened, but I couldn't see, I couldn't feel, I just fell to the ground and cried. Then i heard their voices, the Force called out to me through it all, and I gave in to the red. I killed them all.
They expelled me, and I don't regret it. I'm free, I wander the galaxy doing whatever I want. It was harder at first, but after each job it just got easier and easier. I'm older, and my skills make for good bounty hunting. The traveling also makes it easy for the assassinations to get pinned on others and not me, though I'm sure I'm wanted on six different worlda right now. And no, before you ask, I'm not a part of the guild. Pasty Hutts don't know good talent when they see it, I'll still call myself a hunter though.
And damn them if they think they can stop me.
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ᴘʀᴏғɪʟᴇ ᴄᴏᴅᴇ ʙʏ: ʙᴇᴇ​

Bee, Jul 30, 2015 Report#2Li

 

[Black Noise]

Artyom Ivanov​

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Biography​

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I met a young man once, younger than even myself, sitting beside me in a dark, wet trench during a lull in one of many hard fought battles. I looked into his eyes and I saw my own reflected back at me. He told me something that day, something I could not forget in million years. He shook with conviction, his fists curled so tightly his hands began to turn white. Anger reverberating in his voice, he said,

"Brother, I am not more than nineteen summers. I read letters from friends across the galaxy who speak of lazy days at dead end jobs and girls who flirt for nothing more than the sake of boredom. Yet I find myself here, and I know nothing of such blissful happiness. I have experienced death, destruction, and despair that surely was previously unknown to man. I watch my comrades slaughter each other without mercy or thought, and I am wrought with confusion and terror. I cannot live this way."

I reached for him, but it was far too late. Screaming, he charged into the battle. His lightsaber laid in the spot he had sat with me, left behind. I tell myself he must have forgotten it, in the youthful passion of the moment, but I am known to lie to myself more than anyone else. I am not more than twenty-four myself, scarcely five years older than that man was. We grew up similarly, training with the Jedi since our youth. We were taught to use our abilities to protect others, to help forge the galaxy into a better place. But here I sat, too scared to exit the dirt of the trench, as I listened to my comrade's scream cut short.

The war is over, but I find myself kept awake by it every night. The scream of my comrade is always the last thing I hear in my nightmares, cutting short as I awaken in cold sweats. I hear talk of many in the order who believe we must hunt the exiles for starting the war, punish them for betraying our order. But was it really their fault? Did a simply disagreement really escalate to full blown violence and war that left thousands of our friends and comrades dead and many more civilians displaced?

Jedi should not be warriors, Jedi should be keepers of the peace. In the wake of this devastation, I will claw my way to the head of this order and personally ensure war will not return to the galaxy. The war may be over among the Jedi, but for me, the war of politics is just beginning.

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Personality and Description​

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Artyom is a twenty-four year old male human. He possesses shoulder length brown hair and a short, unkempt black beard. His eyes are a deep blue and he is of an average stature at six feet tall. He is a muscular man, though he is currently weakened as he is recovering from malnourishment from time at the front lines of the war. His shoulder is marked with a deep scar from a lightsaber blade and, as a result, he will never exceed 75% strength in his right arm. Thankfully, Artyom can utilize the Force to make up for this.

He was raised to be a warrior among the Jedi. He and the other children with him were trained since arrival with the intention of fighting in the war. As a result, Artyom is a master of controlling his emotions at all times. While he sees himself as level headed and calm, many have described him as cold and unfeeling. He is a rules man and will sacrifice 'outside the box' ideas for those that stick within the rigid rules of the Jedi code.

That is not to say Artyom is incapable of emotion, it is simply difficult to illicit strong feelings from him. He is occasionally found, when not meditating or practicing, staring off for long hours into the distance. Attempting to break him from this state in any manner other than the utmost of gentleness may cause an unparalleled reaction of anger from the man through a war flashback. He is plagued by the traumatic stress of the war, and seeks to make sure there will never be another one as long and as bloody as the one hundred years war.

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Misc​

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Force Ability — Artyom is a Knight and, as such, is adequately skilled in the Force. He has focused on sense and physical enhancement in order to better himself for combat, but is also capable in the mind. Telepathic links are of little difficulty for Artyom with those who are willing, and he is capable of forcing his will upon the weak minded.

Lightsaber Combat — The focus of much of Artyom's youth and adulthood, the blade is where Artyom's ability truly shines. He is well trained in single saber combat, favoring it, but will draw upon a second blade if he becomes hard pressed.

Handcarved Flute — Artyom is not much of an artist, but a farmer from a village he once protected showed him how to create and play a simple wooden flute. While no master, it is a comforting and easy instrument to play.

Gear — One full face mask and simple long range visor. One Durasteel chestplate. One set of Durasteel gauntlets, and boots. One handmade lightsaber belonging to Artyom. One handmade lightsaber belonging to a Jedi Artyom met on the battlefield. One carved, wooden flute.

Hand to Hand Combat — Although not something Artyom was formally trained in, he knows a few basic movements to escape grips and self defense positions. He is not a master of CQC, but he will not be easily overtaken by a thug attempting to mug him. /justify]

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Threads​

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