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Here's a profile that's mostly done as far as essential substance goes, but I'll work on it more in the future, especially where formatting is concerned. Just posting it now so I can get it out there.
NAME: Kel Shann
FACTION: Hopefully the New Jedi Order
RANK: None yet
SPECIES: Dashade
AGE: 25
GENDER: Male
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes
COMPOSITION AND APPEARANCE:
Massive, muscled and gray with a mouth that seems meant for eating people, as a Dashade, Kel Shann is a rare sight. Standing 2 meters tall and weighing nearly 200 kilograms, Kel Shann is something akin to a moving mountain. He nearly always wears a helmet with an opaque faceplate to hide his features.
PERSONALITY:
Kel Shann is defined by conflict. While aspiring to pacifism and valuing justice and selflessness, he struggles with the horrifically violent traditional nature of his species and the ease with which violence can come to him. He feels called to find answers and his own place in the galaxy, but he yearns for his home. Proud of who he is, he nonetheless feels a need to hide his heritage behind a mask. Plagued by loneliness, he feels too much an outsider to form any real connections.
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES:
Perhaps the most obvious conclusion to draw about Kel Shann is that he is extremely powerful physically, however despite his strength and size, he can move surprisingly quickly. He is extremely solidly built and is in excellent health. Intellectually speaking, his grasp of academics isn't something he would brag about and he isn't the most eloquent or confident speaker; additionally, he struggles with moral and ethical ideas and with his own identity and purpose. Additionally, while definitely Force Sensitive, his species' innate resistance to influence through the Force interferes with his development of his powers. Using the Force is one of his greatest contests.
FORCE POWERS:
Kel Shann has a talent for precognition, but his abilities are otherwise undeveloped.
BIOGRAPHY:
I knew what punch he was throwing before he had even moved. A flicker of a thought passed through my mind, but a flicker only, like the fleeting imprint of intuition or the unsettling shadow of Deja Vu. I didn't need to think about what to do because I was already doing it, my body moving at the encouragement of some base instinct. I stepped in close to his right, blocking his wind-up with my right forearm while driving my left into his face, elbow first. Electricity arced and crackled as I made contact, and I immediately followed up with my right knee cracking into his ribs. More electricity sparked. I grabbed the back of his neck and threw him forward onto the floor where he lay curled, clutching at his side.
The audience sat in silence, not sure how to react. Shockboxing matches were supposed to be entertainment, but this match was over a litle over a second after it began. The referee hesitantly called out my victory while my manager glared at me from outside the arena; I glared steadily back. I was tired of being entertainment. I was tired of hurting people to satisfy the violent urges of the public. Ignoring the arena's attempt to spin this into a spectacle, I walked over to my opponent, a young wookiee, and picked him up, carrying him to the medics waiting near the exit. Without a word, I left.
I left my home 8 years ago. I didn't plan on sampling the breadth of violent careers that the galaxy had to offer, it just ended up that way. I've needed the money to keep going. Since I left the Rishi Maze I'd been hired as a mob enforcer, a gladiator, a mercenary, and at one point I even took a job as private security at a black market cybernetics clinic. It may seem strange coming from what appears to be a 2 meter tall holovid horror monster, but I wasn't raised this way. My parents don't want me to be doing this. Our community has been comfortably out of the spotlight of galactic politicians and warmongers for the past several centuries, after millenia of being exploited as assasssins and soldiers of conquest. And here I am now, falling back down the hole they climbed out of.
I couldn't just sit there, though. I couldn't live my life hiding, not with what I'd been given. I needed to know why I was the way I was, and I knew I wouldn't get any answers in the Maze. So I became a wanderer, and it was about time I started wandering again. I'd stayed here too long when I knew where I should be if I wanted to find out the truth.
"YOU JUST WITNESSED THE FACELESS WIN HIS 23RD MATCH, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN."
I could hear the announcer booming above as I descended through the tunnels beneath the arena to the combatant quarters. "The Faceless". That's me. I've worn a helmet with an opaque faceplate in public ever since I left the Maze. Even in shockboxing matches I kept the faceplate on, secured to a frame under the helmet magnetically. "The Faceless." There were real creative people in this industry.
I had reached my equipment locker and grabbed my bag when I heard footsteps behind me.
"Going somewhere?" Ah. Rerlan. I turned around to face the girl; a human, 26, and a good fighter. She was wearing the same gray combat jumpsuit - the uniform of fighters of the arena - as I was. She must have been fighting later in the day, because none of her bruises looked recent. Well, not that recent.
"Yes." I replied. "I'm leaving."
"Leaving?" She sounded angry and hurt, but something told me she wasn't surprised. "We still have a tag team tournament that we're signed up to fight in. Together."
"I know. I won't be participating. I'm getting off planet."
"To go where?" Rerlan advanced until she was barely a foot away from me, staring angrily up into the metal plate that covered my face. It was as much as she'd ever seen of me. She knew that microcameras transmitted visuals to a display on the inside; I'd told her all about the helmet, but I didn't tell her what was underneath. She continued. "Kabal has the best shockboxing arena this side of the galaxy, you're not going to find any better place to fight."
"I'm done fighting anyway." I said. She scowled.
"This is what you were MADE for, Kel. What else would you do?" She smirked, evidently feeling like she'd just raised a good point.
"Something that doesn't involve hurting people for fun." I said as I turned around and began packing my sparring gear and other personal belongings into my bag. I could feel face line with anger again without even looking at her.
"What, so you think you're better than us now or something?
"No. I sealed my bag and hoisted it over my shoulder. "I think I'm different. If you love this, great, I'm glad I was able to coach you and help you discover something you really feel driven and dedicated to. I need to find whatever that is for me." Her rage broke and she let out a sigh.
"Will you at least write me? Let me know what's up?"
"If I can." I began walking toward the exit.
"Wait, Kel." Rerlan called out. I stopped in front of the door and turned as she leaped at me, wrapping her arms as far around me as she could in a tight hug. After a few seconds I put a hand on her shoulder, my 3 fingers gently applying pressure until she finally let go. I nodded at her and then walked out the door, leaving behind one of the only people I could call a friend since I'd left the Maze. I hoped this would be worth it; I hoped I could find the Jedi, and I hoped they could give me the answers I was looking for.
[spoiler="OOC Information]KILLS:
None.
BOUNTIES COLLECTED:
None.
DUELING RING MATCHES:
None.
GRAND TOURNAMENT MATCHES:
None.
ROLE-PLAYS:
None.[/spoiler]
NAME: Kel Shann
FACTION: Hopefully the New Jedi Order
RANK: None yet
SPECIES: Dashade
AGE: 25
GENDER: Male
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes
COMPOSITION AND APPEARANCE:
Massive, muscled and gray with a mouth that seems meant for eating people, as a Dashade, Kel Shann is a rare sight. Standing 2 meters tall and weighing nearly 200 kilograms, Kel Shann is something akin to a moving mountain. He nearly always wears a helmet with an opaque faceplate to hide his features.
PERSONALITY:
Kel Shann is defined by conflict. While aspiring to pacifism and valuing justice and selflessness, he struggles with the horrifically violent traditional nature of his species and the ease with which violence can come to him. He feels called to find answers and his own place in the galaxy, but he yearns for his home. Proud of who he is, he nonetheless feels a need to hide his heritage behind a mask. Plagued by loneliness, he feels too much an outsider to form any real connections.
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES:
Perhaps the most obvious conclusion to draw about Kel Shann is that he is extremely powerful physically, however despite his strength and size, he can move surprisingly quickly. He is extremely solidly built and is in excellent health. Intellectually speaking, his grasp of academics isn't something he would brag about and he isn't the most eloquent or confident speaker; additionally, he struggles with moral and ethical ideas and with his own identity and purpose. Additionally, while definitely Force Sensitive, his species' innate resistance to influence through the Force interferes with his development of his powers. Using the Force is one of his greatest contests.
FORCE POWERS:
Kel Shann has a talent for precognition, but his abilities are otherwise undeveloped.
BIOGRAPHY:
I knew what punch he was throwing before he had even moved. A flicker of a thought passed through my mind, but a flicker only, like the fleeting imprint of intuition or the unsettling shadow of Deja Vu. I didn't need to think about what to do because I was already doing it, my body moving at the encouragement of some base instinct. I stepped in close to his right, blocking his wind-up with my right forearm while driving my left into his face, elbow first. Electricity arced and crackled as I made contact, and I immediately followed up with my right knee cracking into his ribs. More electricity sparked. I grabbed the back of his neck and threw him forward onto the floor where he lay curled, clutching at his side.
The audience sat in silence, not sure how to react. Shockboxing matches were supposed to be entertainment, but this match was over a litle over a second after it began. The referee hesitantly called out my victory while my manager glared at me from outside the arena; I glared steadily back. I was tired of being entertainment. I was tired of hurting people to satisfy the violent urges of the public. Ignoring the arena's attempt to spin this into a spectacle, I walked over to my opponent, a young wookiee, and picked him up, carrying him to the medics waiting near the exit. Without a word, I left.
I left my home 8 years ago. I didn't plan on sampling the breadth of violent careers that the galaxy had to offer, it just ended up that way. I've needed the money to keep going. Since I left the Rishi Maze I'd been hired as a mob enforcer, a gladiator, a mercenary, and at one point I even took a job as private security at a black market cybernetics clinic. It may seem strange coming from what appears to be a 2 meter tall holovid horror monster, but I wasn't raised this way. My parents don't want me to be doing this. Our community has been comfortably out of the spotlight of galactic politicians and warmongers for the past several centuries, after millenia of being exploited as assasssins and soldiers of conquest. And here I am now, falling back down the hole they climbed out of.
I couldn't just sit there, though. I couldn't live my life hiding, not with what I'd been given. I needed to know why I was the way I was, and I knew I wouldn't get any answers in the Maze. So I became a wanderer, and it was about time I started wandering again. I'd stayed here too long when I knew where I should be if I wanted to find out the truth.
"YOU JUST WITNESSED THE FACELESS WIN HIS 23RD MATCH, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN."
I could hear the announcer booming above as I descended through the tunnels beneath the arena to the combatant quarters. "The Faceless". That's me. I've worn a helmet with an opaque faceplate in public ever since I left the Maze. Even in shockboxing matches I kept the faceplate on, secured to a frame under the helmet magnetically. "The Faceless." There were real creative people in this industry.
I had reached my equipment locker and grabbed my bag when I heard footsteps behind me.
"Going somewhere?" Ah. Rerlan. I turned around to face the girl; a human, 26, and a good fighter. She was wearing the same gray combat jumpsuit - the uniform of fighters of the arena - as I was. She must have been fighting later in the day, because none of her bruises looked recent. Well, not that recent.
"Yes." I replied. "I'm leaving."
"Leaving?" She sounded angry and hurt, but something told me she wasn't surprised. "We still have a tag team tournament that we're signed up to fight in. Together."
"I know. I won't be participating. I'm getting off planet."
"To go where?" Rerlan advanced until she was barely a foot away from me, staring angrily up into the metal plate that covered my face. It was as much as she'd ever seen of me. She knew that microcameras transmitted visuals to a display on the inside; I'd told her all about the helmet, but I didn't tell her what was underneath. She continued. "Kabal has the best shockboxing arena this side of the galaxy, you're not going to find any better place to fight."
"I'm done fighting anyway." I said. She scowled.
"This is what you were MADE for, Kel. What else would you do?" She smirked, evidently feeling like she'd just raised a good point.
"Something that doesn't involve hurting people for fun." I said as I turned around and began packing my sparring gear and other personal belongings into my bag. I could feel face line with anger again without even looking at her.
"What, so you think you're better than us now or something?
"No. I sealed my bag and hoisted it over my shoulder. "I think I'm different. If you love this, great, I'm glad I was able to coach you and help you discover something you really feel driven and dedicated to. I need to find whatever that is for me." Her rage broke and she let out a sigh.
"Will you at least write me? Let me know what's up?"
"If I can." I began walking toward the exit.
"Wait, Kel." Rerlan called out. I stopped in front of the door and turned as she leaped at me, wrapping her arms as far around me as she could in a tight hug. After a few seconds I put a hand on her shoulder, my 3 fingers gently applying pressure until she finally let go. I nodded at her and then walked out the door, leaving behind one of the only people I could call a friend since I'd left the Maze. I hoped this would be worth it; I hoped I could find the Jedi, and I hoped they could give me the answers I was looking for.
[spoiler="OOC Information]KILLS:
None.
BOUNTIES COLLECTED:
None.
DUELING RING MATCHES:
None.
GRAND TOURNAMENT MATCHES:
None.
ROLE-PLAYS:
None.[/spoiler]
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