Kane Royce | Menime | The Real Slam Shidy

Prudence

[ All I am surrounded by is fear — and dead men ]
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Kane Royce
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    HOMEWORLD: Detroit Nar Shaddaa
    ALIAS: Slam Shidy | Menime
    AFFILIATION: Indie AF

    SPECIES: Human
    GENDER: Male
    AGE: 44
    HEIGHT: 6'1
    WEIGHT: 230 lbs

    STRENGTH:

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    STAMINA:
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    CONSTITUTION:
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    INTELLIGENCE:
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    WISDOM:
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    FREESTYLE:
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    CHARISMA:
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    Pills, powders, cigarras, syringes — pick one out of a hat, and it's a way I do spice. If people are like trees, each one with roots, mine are filled with poison, and scars from constantly 'relocation'. Relocate is the word my mom always used for it, but it really was that she was too fuckin poor to keep a place to live very long. Everyone is a prisoner to their life circumstances, whether those circumstances be an actual cell, or a collection of vices. My chains found their way around my wrists in the form of a thrill rushing through my veins. In order to escape the melancholy of my ever worsening life, and to feel for just a moment a dose of extraordinary, I started doing spice. First it was smoking, behind buildings with the kids I hung out with at the time. Then it was in the back of a seedy restaurant, lines of spice on the table and a burning in my nose. It reached its climax when i was slumped against the side of warehouse, syringe still clutched in my limp hand and spice sizzling through my veins just to give me a momentary escape.

    Raised on the streets, I learned how to hold my own and stand up for myself. I was arrested by the worthless excuse for a security force that Nar Shaddaa employed on a weapons charge when I was 18, and served 7 months in one of their seedy jails. When I got out life became exponentially harder, and the limited number of decent jobs that Nar Shaddaa had to offer were far less interested in me. My life spiraled out of control until I found myself in a damp alley, pistol in hand and a freshly smoking corpse lying on the ground beneath my feet. A cold sweat found its way across my face as rain softly drummed out a beat on the arms of my jacket. It was a wakeup call, and the beginning of a dichotomy. I could choose which way my life would go: I could return from the moral descent that I'd been subject to, clean up my mistakes and find my way back to the straight and narrow — or I could embrace the reality of who I was now, and what I was good at.

    To say that I wholeheartedly my moral decay would be an understatement. I began taking jobs with higher and higher risks involved, and exponentially correlated paychecks. After just months of work I became a fixer famed in the seedy circles of Nar Shaddaa. Soon I left the 'comforts' of Nar Shaddaa's smog consumed atmosphere, and branched my enterprise out to the other seedy planets in the sector. The story is a simple one from there, I was a capable fixer, of any situation. Something to be acquired, someone to be silenced, something to be destroyed, no matter the problem I could fix it.

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    TROPES:
    to be updated
    Kane is morally degraded to the point that he feels no remorse, and little guilt for his actions. His disruptive and pain filled childhood left him in an unstable mental state. Attempting to fill the voids in his heart, and in his mind, with temporary fixes he developed an addiction to spice and alcohol. Necessity was the mother of his personality, and each step further he took away from the man he used to be was fueled by a need or a desire to be filled. Sometimes, in his moments of true weakness he might feel a glimpse of pain at the blurry descent his life has taken, but these moments are drowned out by alcohol. He is unsympathetic, selfish, and violent. Cold and calculating don't fit him well, while he can be cold about the things he can do, Kane is filled with emotion. Anger, greed, jealousy, sadness, anxiety, and rage.
 
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Apollyon

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Triple K character names, I'm onto you...
 
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