Noooo Noooo Notorious' Workshop

[Notorious]

Welcome to my workshop! Glad you stopped by.

​

This is for WIP stuff but y'all can post here if you want I ain't gonna stop you like everybody else. I appreciate ideas and anyone critiquing what I got so make yourself comfortable and enjoy all that is the Notorious vault of junk!

 

[Notorious]

Biographical information​

Homeworld
Age
Nar Shaddaa
24

Physical Description​

Species
Gender
Height
Mass
Hair color
Eye color
Skin color
Human
Male
6'3"
395 Pounds
Black
Brown
Dark Brown

Misc. Information​

Affiliation(s):
Hutt Cartel

Profession:
SLUM LORD
Spice/Narcotic Trafficker
Rapper/Songwriter
Certified OG of the Space-Hop Genre

_

.
Biggs "Notorious" Latore

Excerpt · The Ten Spice Commandments · Personality · Equipment

Holo Recording #1:
"Check it, I ain't about living this bullshit Nar Shaddaa trash life. I've survived it, now I'm going to own that shit, know what I'm saying? I'm sicker than your average, Big Papa Biggs coming at'cha with something that's gonna put these posers to shame. Gonna fill me and my bro's pockets with bread and I don't give a kriff who we got to put holes in to do it. Me and my little big bro Puff gonna make something of ourselves. We're the real deal, homie. Whether that means I gotta do it with a microphone or a piece I don't give a kriff. All we want is this moon and everything on it."

_

▵The Ten Spice Commandments


I've been in this game for years, it's made me an animal. There's rules to this shit, I wrote me a manual. A step-by-step booklet for you to get to know me, Biggs 'Notorious' Latore. This the Ten Spice Commandments.
Number 1: Never Trust Nobody, Your own Pop's will set you up and Kriff you and your peeps up.

I grew up in a pretty shitty area, kind of projects normal fools speed past know what I'm saying? Was born to my mama Volette Brendais Latore. Beautiful name for a beautiful woman, man. Poor beautiful woman that got played by a smuggling type piece of shit. You know that type, call themselves a 'Fixer' but really mean 'unemployed and junkie', know what I'm saying? He did my moms bad, knocked her up with me and bounced.

Grew up without a pops, with a moms that was working 14 hour days. Made me grow up fast. 'Specially on my street. Was rough living out there as a kid who just wanted to have fun, video games, music, you name it I was into that shit. My moms was damn good to a little bastard like me. She might have worked a lot but she always looked out after me. It's a damn shame I never got the chance to look after her.

Never Trust Nobody that don't deserve it. I had two peeps like that in my life. My moms, hope you're resting good ma. And my brother, Reed.

'Member that nerf herder of a pops I have? Well that busta ruined another good woman's life but he did one thing good. He helped make my brother, Serreed "Puff Daddy" Combo.

Number 2: Run them Streets, Don't show no Schuttas you Weak.

I met my little big bro when I was 9. Reed is 4 years older than me but you wouldn't think that. Ever since we were kids I was the strong, big one. He's a lot quicker and business minded. I get shit done and bust anyone's head that gets up in our way. It works, we a good team. We started running with a group of kids and Reed quickly got them all together and put them to work. Didn't know at the time but we started a gang and did the only thing little kids on this rock are able to do: survive.

Soon we didn't need them kids no more and became a dynamic duo, two motherkriffers taking over the streets together. Even though we were just little teens then that relationship has carried on today. We lied, cheated and stole. I broke faces, Reed did too. It's all good though, it was them or us.

We did some kriffed up stuff. The moral of this story is don't let them see you're weak. Even if you think what you're doing is wrong: do it. If it means protecting your fam and it's them or you always pick them. Don't be weak. Even when your moms dies because of some rival cartel drive by. Don't show them your weak.

Number 3: The Cartel is for survival, you see the chance you become they rival.

Never be satisfied with being the Hutt's schutta. Me and my brother Reed joined up with the Cartel once we started making a name for ourselves. We've never left but the higher we get the more we realize we can do this shit on our own. The Hutts are a bad enemy to have though so we stay cool. We make them money, they help us make more. It'll work for now but if you ever see the shot, move up. Move up and take over. Fat bastards.

Number 4: I know you heard this one before, 'Never Get High on Your Own Supply'

Selling spice is what we do, me and my brother been doing it for years. One thing we learned quick is never dip into your own stash. If you party make sure you doing that from someone else's stash. Otherwise yo ass is grass, know what I'm saying? You gonna keep dipping back until all your profits are up yo nose or worse.

Number 5: Never sell no Spice where you Rest at.

Even if they want an ounce, tell em' bounce.

Number 6: Be ready to Duck and Cover, you never know what the 5-0 is gonna discover.

This life of being a criminal has made me and my brother wise to the way the police work. We know the risks that come with being bosses, we know how to transport several kilos of spice without getting caught. We know how to take money right out from under your nose. We can be smiling in your face and you'll thank us for taking your cash.

What I'm saying is we're going out for the loot. You should be too. That means have something to fall back on to so the police don't know what you up to.

Number 7: Don't just take over the Spice Game, keep grinding and aim for fame.

Me and Reed been making bread for years now. We know the streets, we know the game. Now we needed a new one. Going back to Number 6 we needed something to protect our criminal enterprise. We both dug music and always made up songs while on the job so what do we do? We flip the music game on its kriffin' head.

We invented Space-Hop. We started with my bro making sick beats. None of that jizz shit but real hard hitting, bone chilling music. Real Nar Shaddaa shit, know what I'm saying? I always liked poetry and rhyming words so we mixed it all together. We've started making these new songs man that'll take this moon by storm.

Might be selling spice but our real passion is music, man. We just released "Nar Shaddaa Slum Lords" with songs where we both spit bars over while Reed produced the whole thing on his own. He has some real talent man, you ain't ready. And me? Shit... What til you here what I got on that holotape there son.

It's all getting pretty serious, we both got performer names. I'm the "Notorious" Biggs Latore and Reed is Shareed "Puff Daddy" Combo. Together we're taking over the spice game and the music game all at the same time. We're both too good to stay in one lane, we're merging into two.

Number 8: Never keep no weight on you...

If you're transporting product make sure you and your crew know what's true. Get stopped? You don't know shit. Snitches get stitches might be cliche as kriff but it's true. Don't ever try and pull one over on the Hutts either, you'll wake up dead. Never carry big amounts of spice on you either, junkies WILL move on you.

Number 9: Keep your pockets fat and your body stacked.

My bro Reed don't agree with me since he a twig but keep active. I might have more to love but the ladies love when they can rub on your belly. Reed and me have gotten into a lot of trouble over the years where we haven't had our pieces. It's a good thing I'm a piece myself. Biggs Latore is a big boy but that doesn't mean I can't roll on someone with just my fists. Believe it or not most of my girth is muscle homie. Mostly.

Number 10: Sky is the Limit

This should have been number 1 to me but sky is the limit for my brother and me. We've came out of a bad place, from the projects, to the gang life, to the mac life. You can do that too. If me and Puff can come from nothing to something then you can too. We haven't made it yet but we got too many projects to fail, know what I'm saying? We're slum lords, we deal drugs and kill people who stand in our way. We work with the Hutts and working our way up. But we also entertainers, you probably heard a song or two of ours already. Follow these rules and you can work your way up too.

The Sky Is the Limit and Nar Shaddaa is for the taking. We're gonna take it all.


▵Personality

Loyal. Mean Streak. Self Preserving. Entrepreneur Spirit. Musically Oriented. Big.

Biggs 'Notorious' Latore is a simple man. He has a low, grumbling voice that further personifies his tough persona. He's cold to the core, his only soft spots being drugs, women and his brother Reed. While he likes to party he likes business more, making credits and peggats his main focus. He's physically strong so it has made his personality just as big as his body. He doesn't handle disrespect well. Biggs likes nice, luxurious things as he never had nothing before, though, this means he makes bad financial investments.

He's been through a lot, feeding into his main passion: music. If he isn't working the spice trade or working with his clients he is writing, reading or spitting bars. He's cold enough to cap someone only to eat dinner with their family later and keep a straight face. He keeps the people close to him closer and leaves his enemies in the gutter.

While he has a mean streak most people are safe around Biggs. Just as long as you don't threaten his family or his business he's more than willing to break bread with you and your's. He has a blunt sense of humor and in many ways is the yin to his brother Serreed's yang. Success has made his ego inflate, Biggs looking at himself and his brother as modern day kings.

▵Equipment
Weaponry:
CP 8 Blaster Pistol
Bigg's Stun Cane
Black Leather Shock Boxing Gloves

Armor:
Bigg's Armored Suit

Ship:
Fathier Class Light Freighter (Co-Owned with: Serrad "Puff Daddy" Combo)

 

[Notorious]

Biographical information​

Homeworld
Age
Onderon
27

Physical Description​

Species
Gender
Height
Mass
Hair color
Eye color
Skin color
Human
Male
6'0"
185 Pounds
Light Brown
Brown
Pale

Misc. Information​

Affiliation(s):
Independent

Profession:
Professional Fighter
Mercenary

_

.
Crom McCready

Excerpt · Biography · Personality · Inmate Review · Powers and Abilities

Prisoner Profile for Inmate - 95284921: Crom McCready. Human. Occupation: Professional Fighter, Mercenary. History of Excessive Violence, Public Intoxication, Public Indecency, Assault, Extortion and currently undergoing multiple open murder investigations on planets in 12 different systems. Currently unaffiliated, no known gang or cartel affiliations. Rumored to be force sensitive. Use of expletives is borderline obnoxious. Handle inmate with extreme caution, has escaped from several low level prison facilities.

_

▵Biography


“Ye want to know me story do ya? All of it? What’s this for, the movie or the biography? Either way yea… I think my fans could use some more content. Alright… Ready? Great. My name is Crom McCready and I’m an alcoholic. Chit… Cut that, wrong video. My name is Crom McCready and I’m a professional fighter from the crazy jungle world of Onderon. Some real fraggin’ warriors come from that world and you best believe I carry that spirit wit me wherever I go! Though… Didn’t grow up there. Far from it actually.”


“When I was a wee little lad my parents sold me to slavers. Kriffed up, right? How could two people sell their own son to some aliens looking for workers for their mines and other sick chit? They were both drug addicts and the spice was more important than little Crom. Fair play to them, they got theirs in the end. Ended up finding out they both died from overdoses years after they sold me, served them right. Must have been… only 8 or so when they got rid of me. Them slavers took me out to the Outer Rim and made me break rocks and do little tasks for a kid. Messed up, yeah? Turning a child into a miner… Ha! They got me for cheap and treated me like it, chit food, chit water, chit sleep. Toughened me up when others were being tucked in by their ma’s and da’s… Kriff that.”


“Few years passed of this chit day after day until one day little Crom couldn’t take it anymore. I snapped. Punched one of my slavers right in the face. Beat the hell out of me after that but they liked me attitude. Even after all the rock breaking they couldn’t break me spirit. Had a natural strength after mining for a couple of years so they began beating the hell out of me day in day out. Eventually I began to like it more than breaking rocks so little Crom started kicking people’s teeth in. Didn’t take them long to realize me natural talent so they started throwing me in the fighting pits with gladiators. Crazy right?”


“So… there I was… chit… couldn’t be older than 15 and I was fighting grown men. The few times I was given a weapon I failed kriffin’ miserably. Tried swingin’ it, throwin’ it… Nothin’ worked. It took me dropping the chit they were giving me and using me fists like the Force intended and started winning. It didn’t make sense, a weapon is supposed to make you deadlier… Not me. My weapons are always on me, whether I got gloves on or not it don’t matter. Soon they got me fighting Shockboxing, death matches, cage matches you name it I’ve fought in it… And for a time… things were… Okay.”


“I was fighting. I was making some bastards money but at the end of the day they gave me what I wanted after winning. Food, Water, technology to play with. Books. Gotta remember I didn’t get a proper education so at this point I was pretty fraggin’ stupid. Found another older slave to teach me how to read, write… Not very good mind you but I could do it finally. As good as life had started getting that naggin’ feeling of wanting freedom was getting too great though… And I was getting too strong.”


“Wish I could tell ye that I broke out in a blaze of glory. That I beat them kriffin’ slaving pieces of chit until they weren’t breathing anymore. Beat them to a bloody pulp and raised my hands to the sky and roared in victory… That’s not what happened. Got about half way until they shot me a few times and well… Your favorite loud mouthed fighter wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for this strange traveling circus that rolled through and saved me rear. What? You think I’m lying to you yea? Well it’s the truth! We were on Nar Shaddaa for some fights when I tried to make me escape and these crazy acrobatic bastards all came in, swarmed the slavers that were killing me and next thing I know I’m being helped up by an old man with a crazy beard and taken away on a shuttle far away from that place.”


“Now let me stop you there… before you ask, ‘Crom… How did a traveling circus kick the ever living chit out of your former slave masters?’ One… No one is my master. I am my master. Two… The force. These freaks knew how to use it and well… They said I could use it too. That I was already using it. That it was the only reason why I was winning all the fist fights against swords and all types of crazy chit. Of course I didn’t believe them then but are you really going to debate whether the existence of a mighty space wizard that controls everything is real or not with the people that just saved your arse from over a decade of slavery? No… you’re not.”


“They call themselves the Matukai. Not like your normal force users like Jedi, they don’t wave laser swords and cause problems. They are traditionally peaceful people unless demonstrating their martial arts. Long story short they’re a pack of nomads that go from place to place looking for home but never finding it and helping people where they go. Real sad chit. They sensed my prescience on a planet I fought on before heading to Nar Shaddaa and followed me, wanting to grab me before a Jedi or one of them Jedi exiles could get their hands on me. Too much blood has been spread from them lot and they wanted to save me from my slavers but not hand me over to new ones neither.”


“They’s were my family for quite a long time. I was about 17 or 18 when they freed me and after that point forward I was a nomad too. Where they went I went. What they did, I did. What they told me to do I did. They were the first real family I ever had… They helped me refine my martial arts, they taught me how to hit harder… To punch more precisely, to kick faster. Before I was nothin but a two bit street brawler who didn’t make a dime… After the Matukai got a hold of me I became a force to be reckoned with. Now what someone could do with a vibro-blade was totally outclassed by my speed and surprised by my strength. I kept thinking of returning to the fight game to make these people money but they didn’t like the idea… Said it was too close to being like my slavers. I said I just wanted to kick the chit out of people.”


“Now… spoiler alert: the force is real. I’m not gonna spend all night explaining it to you but these people showed me some things that would make your head spin. They could make things float wit’ their minds, they could push you across the room just by flicking their hands atcha. The stronger ones could stop blaster shots in mid-air, some even stopped blades from coming down on them. I got close to doing all that but… I’ve learned in dis life that all good things must come to an end. The Matukai nomads I was with came to an end.”


“I… don’t want to go into detail but… We were camping on what we thought was a safe planet and well… Exiles were there and sensed the strong force energy from all of us and… Slaughtered nearly everyone. We all ran, hell, even I ran after fighting the best I could. There was no use in fighting a saber when all my people used were vibro blades and the force. Nothing could stop their ambush… There were too many of them. I tried to stay and fight longer but one of me mentor’s jumped in front of an Exile’s saber for me and so I ran. Ran right after watching them just get slaughtered like that… Ran like a kriffing coward!... I... I left the planet and found myself with a rinky dink ship, alone with no credits, low fuel and no food. I did the only thing I could think of and head back to Nar Shaddaa and started doing what I did best. Fight.”


“Those first few years without me family were tough, I’m not going to lie to ye... Had me a woman, a few mentors… People I considered family when I never had one of me own... Hell… The people closest to me died the quickest. I’m not sure I believe in the whole light side and dark side of the force thing but… That day I felt like I could feel a pull toward someting. Not sure what but it scared me then, it scares me now. I don’t feel that in a fight, just calm, peace even. My opponent attacks, I react and-... Okay, I’m gonna stop banthachitting you. I love to fight and while my family wouldn’t like it the thrill of battle is what keeps me going now that I lost everyting. I lived the nice quiet nomad life with people that loved me, I’ll never have that again. Now… the only two things I want is glory and the money.”


“They are going to immortalize me for what I do in them pits. In them arenas. In them stadiums. Crom McCready is already a name in the lower cities among scoundrels and thieves. The people living bum lives look forward to my fights to feel alive when they’re on! The infamous Crom McCready has knocked out people of all races. Human, Mandalorians, Transdocians, hell… even beat a Wookie! All hand to hand, all using the teachings I learned from the Matukai and from the days of scrapping as a lad. My goal is to take what you know now, that I’m the best fraggin’ fighter alive, and show the galaxy just who they are kriffin’ with! Now if I could stop getting locked up I might actually get somewhere.”


“Now… the reason I get locked up is I like nice things… I like spending money. I like drinking. I like women. All these things are expensive, whether it’s buying a nice thing for your lass or wanting that nice swoop bike everything costs credits. And… fighting at my level doesn’t pay chit! I bring them knockouts that they’ll replay for years and they can’t pay me half the show money? It’s bantha chit! So… I’ve taken up merc work. I know… my people would hate me for that too. They believed in helping people should come from the good of your heart and not for monetary gain… I say frag dat, if I’m gonna risk me life you best kriffin’ pay me! I take jobs of all kinds… The kinds that normally need a blaster I use me fists. Want someone killed for doing whatever to you? Gonna kill them with me bare hands. Want someone roughed up and their chit stolen? Done. Need to rob a bank? Give me a fraggin’ mask and 30% of the haul and you got yerself a deal. Nothing is too extreme for Crom McCready, I live how I want and if that means I have te get me hands dirty then so be it.”


“So now here we are… I’m talking to you, some two bit warden and you’re asking me about me life? Well… I can tell ye now I don’t know nothin bout nobody and that’s that. You can hear all about me and me struggle, my accomplishments… my goals… my dreams… my losses. Anything for the documentary, yea? When it comes to me clients though I ain’t telling you chit! Did you really think this ended with a confession? Go kriff yourself.”


▵Personality

“Another one of these things? The hell do you take me for, a one man entertainment machine? You’re treating me like a slot machine here and you aren’t pulling the right lever if you wann- What? Really? A sentence reduction for a personality test? Chit… Do you want to do this over dinner lass or do you-... Okay right, Let’s get started!”


“I’m the best fraggin’ fighter in the galaxy. You put me in there with a Wookie and the only arms that are gonna get ripped off is that hairy bastard’s! I’ll bounce his head off the canvas and shave the big oaf after I’m done wit him so his other furry friends know who the real champ is! My confidence is key and it makes me king. My self belief and my determination to improve myself is what sets me apart from my competition, though sometimes that means I bite off more than I can chew. Alright… maybe that means that happens more often than not but I don’t believe in losing. I believe in learning.”


“If you haven’t noticed by now you have noticed my need to curse. I stick with the classics, my special flavor of expletive words along with me accent makes me more entertaining than your standard fighter. I’m the next level, the next big athlete that will break through to the masses! From Tatooine to fraggin’ Coruscant just you wait, I’ll be on all yer kriffin’ channels! I’ll be- wha? Oh… sorry lass, feel like I’m hyping up a fight talking about meself here!”


“Not good enough ehh? Want to take a deep dive into Crom McCready’s mind yea? How about if you want to learn more baby you take these shackles off here, unbutton that- HA! The hell are you doing? Some professionalism! Hitting your prisoners like that, kriffin’ schutta! Hit like a fraggin’ child you know that lady? Okay… My ma taught me better than to treat a lady like that. Wait… that schutta sold me off to slavers so this is par for the course right? Here’s some personality for ya lass, I grew up not learning any manners other than holding my head down and hoping some disgusting looking creature didn’t take a whip to my back for not smashing rocks fast. So yea… I might not be the nicest mouthed man but the things this mouth can do is- CHIT! You gotta stop that lady, seriously.”


“I’m a sucker for a pretty lass, if you couldn’t tell. But what I’m a bigger sucker for is money. Credits. Chips… Whatever world I’m on and whatever currency I can get me hands on I want it. Going from having nothin to having everything woke up something in me I didn’t ever think I’d have. Greed. I want nice suits, nice ships, nice shoes. I want it all and I’m going to have it all. Greed and Glory is all I’m about, well… and a lass to share it with. Like I said, take these shackles off and- LADY IF YOU’RE GONNA HIT ME HIT ME HARDER! Damn...”


“Where was I before pillow hands here started playing with my face?... That’s right. Now after hearing meself say Greed and Glory is all I care about that’s not ENTIRELY true. I care for people and even if I won’t make some money from them chances are I’m goin to help them. Money helps but… I’ve been there. At the mercy of men and women who just want to watch you bleed… Take you down and steal everything you have and if you don’t have nutthin they kill you or enslave you… That’s one thing I won’t tolerate… slavers. I’ve dealt with them before and even if it’s against me better judgement I take out as many as I can when I can.”


“What? Are you surprised I actually got me a heart of gold? Lass… I’m telling you… I might be in here for robbery or murder or whatever you lot got me on but trust me… The Matukai turned a little piece of chit slave into a man that COULD have been good. Could have been like one of them: selfless, a protector. Teaching little kids the way of the Force, hell… I could have went and learned about the force more myself but ehh… I use what I know. And no, I don’t use it in official fights unless I’m fightin’ an alien that has too many physical advantages. Promise. On the outside… It’s free game.”


“Free game… Yet my biggest weakness is I don’t use any weapons at all? Wrong. That’s not a weakness lass. Me fists hit like orbital bombs. My kicks will splinter your leg bones into little tiny pieces that will poke out of your flesh and say hello to me while you’re on your way down to the ground. Yea… So what if I get shot at? I’m fast, people miss. Lightsabers? Kriff em, it’s risky but I’ve done alright against them so far. That traveling circus of Matukai taught me how to flow like water, no lightsaber is catching me unless they’re really kriffing lucky. Though… I do admit, being stuck hand to hand against literally every weapon out there is the biggest handicap I got. Why? I don’t like weapons, any coward can pull the trigger… It takes a real beast to use his own body to do his dirty work.”


“We done here lady? Alright… Overall I’m a good lad. My temper gets the best of me and I’m highly competitive. Adrenaline is my favorite drug, alcohol being the second. My craft, my martial arts keeps me centered and gives me a relationship with the force even though I can’t do none of that crazy telekinesis chit. I love me a good drink and a beautiful lass, the finer things in life. I would say I’m loyal to a fault but in this bidness I haven’t found a man or woman or alien I trust yet so not too sure on that one. I’m the big mean fighter with a soft core, is that what you want to hear? Yea? Are we done? Good, this seat’s hurting me arse.”

▵Inmate Review

After carefully studying Crom McCready’s history and personality interviews we can confirm that Inmate 95284921 is indeed force sensitive and guilty of his crimes. While appearing as a loud and boisterous fighter with a foul mouth he is force sensitive and is trained to some degree by some strange force using group unrelated to the Jedi. Crom McCready has openly admitted to not only being force sensitive but also committing crimes for his clients, while not direct admissions of guilt he is considered to be a dangerous man even without being armed. Said indirect admissions further confirm our suspicions of him being a regular lawbreaker, allowing us to sentence him accordingly.

Based on compounding data from both interviews his biggest strength and biggest weakness is his overly confident nature. He is very sound in his combat skills but is overzealous with what he is capable of. He uses this to not only hide anguish over losing his adopted family but also to hide his horrific childhood as a slave. His personality type is suited for the illegal line of work he is in to supplement his professional fighting career due to his rough upbringing and terrible formative years. He has no known assets, wasting his money in a vicious circle. With proper guidance and rehabilitation in a correctional facility he could be an upstanding member of society.

Crom McCready compromised this secure facility today and escaped. We are currently investigating how this was possible. He is now at large and extremely dangerous.

▵Powers and Abilities

Currently equipped with nothing but the clothes on his back, Crom uses his mixed martial arts experience while he also enhances his natural born abilities with the force. He's fast, he hits hard and he's spent his entire life becoming a well-trained weapon. He plans to acquire some modified shock boxing gloves to further make it fair for him to fight those with melee weapons or blasters but for now he's just here to punch things. (And when I find the time to edit this anymore, do you see all of those words I just wrote? Damn.)

 

[Notorious]

Biographical information​

Homeworld
Age
Nar Shaddaa
38

Physical Description​

Species
Gender
Height
Mass
Hair color
Eye color
Skin color
Human
Male
5'10"
More to Love
Brown
Brown
Pale

Misc. Information​

Affiliation(s):
Independent

Profession:
Fight Promoter
Game Show Host

_

.
Ricky Ravage

Excerpt · The Legend · Personality · Business Plan · Powers and Abilities

The story of Ricky Ravage is one not for the faint of heart. From aspiring fighter to crippled in a freak tauntaun riding accident, the tale of Ricky Ravage is one of triumph. One of defeat. One of dreams, both ones being fulfilled and others being crushed horrifically. Tales of pure ecstasy and ones of soul crushing depression. And, it's a love story. A love story between a man and his lust for fame, fortune and a gaggle of Twi'lek schuttas.

_

▵The Legend


So you want to hear the legend that is me, Ricky Ravage, do you? Well, I can't say I blame you. I'm pretty kriffing awesome. From the slicked back, permed mullet to the mass I've been cultivating in a way that radiates wealth and excellence I'd be surprised if you hadn't heard about me yet. Yeah, I was a pretty big deal in my twenties when I was the pound for pound best Pit fighter on my home planet of Nar Shaddaa. I had everything, the strength, the speed, the women and most importantly the money. I didn't let the fame get to my head though, I truly believe it's important to stay humble. So that's why I titled this biography 'The Legend', after me, Ricky Ravage.

I was the best and I still am! I'm Ricky Kriffing Ravage, the Savage who kicked... I'm running out of rhymes. Kriff you. I guess all great legends like myself start at the beginning so let's start over. I'm Ricky Ravage and today you're going to be learning about me: the man, the myth, the legend.

It all started when I was a chunky kid at age 14. This legend doesn't start with my parents dying or me gaining super powers or any of that over the top edgy Jedi Exile crap. Nothing interesting happens when you're a kid if you're as awesome as me, you played video games and looked at hot babes all day on the holonet. Well, back then little Ricky Ravage wasn't so into his mass so he joined a boxing gym. Badass right? Right.

For once something clicked with me and before I knew it I was punching people's faces professionally. Now you're probably thinking to yourself... Ricky... with so much man and so much mullet how could you possibly fight the way you did? Pure. Unadulterated. Badassery. I was born to kick ass and be famous and I do both of those things like a kriffing boss! I fought until my early thirties when... the accident happened.

It was the spring time on some resort planet. I was in shape, I had an 8 pack and a 6 pack of Twi'lek courtesans that were sucking my life, my wallet and me dry. I was on so many drugs they could have legally declared me awesome on the sheer fact that I was alive and still doing life up Ricky Ravage style. I was famous, I was hot, they were hot... And that's when I saw it...

Competitive... Tauntaun... Racing...

Now I know what you're thinking, no don't tell me. You're thinking that why is this such a big deal Ricky when EVERYTHING you touch is pure excellence? I'll tell you what... I'm a man of honor, morality and being an all around humble guy.... I will tell you right now that the minute I sat on that Tauntaun I was destined for greatness racing too... Unfortunately that was all the spice and the next thing I knew my back was broken and I couldn't feel my legs.

The worst part is it wasn't even my fault, it really wasn't. A Rogue tauntaun had escaped from the pin behind us and wanted some action on the female I was riding on before the race even began and the rest is history. I was trapped in the middle and well, bastard broke my back. Worse three way I ever had. Really memorable though.

So there I was, couldn't feel my toes or my junk. My life was over. If I couldn't box what was I good for? As I sat there in the hospital the smokin' hot nurses there turned on the game show channel for me and that was that. I spent months absorbing hundreds of hours of word games, money games, funny games, crappy games, old games, you name it I know it. If you have a 15 letter word and all the vowels are already bought baby I can guess it. As crazy as it sounds I started to love how cheesy this stuff was and then I had discovered yet another passion of mine that I was going to absolutely crush: being a game show host.

I had only been a pro fighter for about 10 years before I became crippled. Thankfully it wasn't permanent and a few years later I could feel my junk again, the toes and legs and all that crap came later but at that point I didn't really care. How did I get better? The force, magic, hell if I know. All I know is that the doctors got me better after I had rented out that hotel room to myself so I wouldn't have to go no where. Having a personal hot nurse staff on the pay roll is AWESOME. Would highly recommend. Anyways, I was now 34 and everyone had left me behind. I had just spent the better part of 5 years laid up in a bed, cultivating mass and watching crappy television. The women were gone, my training team was gone and for whatever reason all my money was gone. I blame my sleazy manager and that schutta of a wife of his. Me staying in the hospital as long as I did didn't have anything to do it he's a damn thief!

So, my fighting dream was dead. I had the aspiration of becoming a game show host but that was put on the back burner as I did some job searching. I tried to become a coach but no one was going to listen to me I was too fat and my mullet was too great. The sport moves fast and they forget their legends faster. Tried to become a school teacher but the administrators said I cursed too much, what kriffing dummies right? The Legend Ricky Ravage has a mouth of gold and a tongue of... more gold. When all that didn't work I decided that a life of vagrancy was right for me.

And then I hit the jackpot.

After being homeless and fighting Coruscant bums for a year (professionally, I'm the best) I stumbled across an old building on level 34. Yup, got that low. What do I find in there? Remnants of the SICKEST boxing gym ever. And get this, they use to box eachother WITH LIGHTNING! I'm not even kriffing kidding you guy, this place was crazy. It made perfect sense, make the spectacle a bigger spectacle. I did some digging and what do you know, before those Jedi and Exile schuttas went and crapped all over the universe there use to be a thing called SHOCK BOXING. Doesn't that sound awesome? Say it with me, 'SHOCK BOXING!'. I've spent the past 3 years studying this sport, traveling from world to world doing odd jobs to raise enough money to learn more about this ancient sport and eventually restart it with the help from some suckers.

Current day fights are boring and the fighters are even more boring. It's time to bring the Ravage lifestyle back to the public and keep it there. Now, after all my hardships and struggles I'm bringing the first organized Shock Boxing Championship back to the public after 100 years of it being missing. After I make some money doing that I'll start my own line of game shows but that's not the point right now. The point is reintroducing the galaxy to it's number 1 celebrity: Me, Ricky Ravage.

Oh, and Shock Boxing too! Stay tuned, schuttas.



▵Personality

If you didn't learn anything in my auto-biography titled simply 'The Legend' then you have no business reading about my personality. Get out of here!



▵Business Plan

• Find Sucker to Make Shock Boxing Gloves real.
• Hire on more suckers to run this joint.
• Put together sick fights.
• Repeat.
• Get rich.
• Make more sick fights.
• Get richer.
• Find Hot 10/10 Wife.
• More Fights.
• Game Show project.
• Get richerest.
• Retire to a modest home on- NOPE MORE MONEY BABY
• Hold the SBC in a main arena on a city planet.
• Make all the money.

▵Powers and Abilities

My powers and abilities? That's a uhh... weird question to ask someone. Are you alright? Well... for starters I don't box anymore. My back is all sorts of jacked up and I'm almost kriffing 40. I fight with my words and convince other people to fight for me now because I can make them a ton of credits if they just listen. Oh, and I keep myself strapped with this baby here. Dangerous huh? Think it's called a CZBP-9 or some other stupid name like that. I don't fight anymore but if someone gets fresh with Ricky Ravage then they'll end up in a hospital. Though I haven't shot this thing in a while...

Also I'm not a bad pilot. I go over the speed limit in residential zones but my ship is a piece of junk. It's one of them Nerf Herder Light Freighters. I figure I can store all the company's goods in that bad boy when transporting from world to world. It has some custom decal work on the side, the words "Ricky Ravage" spray painted in gold. It's a sick ride.

Oh, and since I can't fly this huge piece of ju- advanced engineering I have this kriffing droid named MR-A55 who helps me plot courses and stuff. He's a really bad roommate, is super loud and I can't wait to replace him. Has a great name though!

 

[Notorious]

SHOCK BOXING

GLOVES​

AFFILIATION
Open Market

MANUFACTURER
Securitas Supply Systems

SIZE
Gauntlet, Dependent on User

WEIGHT
0.5 KG

COMPOSITION
Shock Resistant LeatherWEAPON TYPE
Melee

DAMAGE TYPE
Melee/Light Stun

AMMUNITION CAPACITY
1 Day Battery Life/50 Strikes

FIRE SELECTOR
On/Off Safety Switch

MAX RANGE
Contact

DESCRIPTION​

Shock Boxing Gloves are easy to use gauntlets that shock your opponent on contact from the four stun conduits on the knuckle padding or the palm conduit. They are made from shock resistant materials, allowing the wielder to take advantage of the finger-less gloving for grappling. Upon contact with flesh the conduits activate, a nasty shock being dealt in a beautiful display of electricity being transferred. It proves for a stunning lightning-esque display making it popular for sporting events.

It is outfitted with a standard power pack, allowing for 50 electric shocks before needing to be recharged or equipped with a new power pack per glove. The damage dealt by these shocks are much weaker than standard stun weaponry, a strike from a shock boxing glove more jarring on contact but does not disable use of limbs or cause unconsciousness without repeated strikes. Paired with a powerful punch these boxing gloves can be quite effective in hand to hand combat, even once a charge has been depleted.

They have been known to be modified by criminal types to reduce total strikes available but boosting power, creating a weapon comparable to the Model 1-48 Stun Baton at the higher end of modifications. Typical Shock Boxing gloves are used in competition against unarmored opponents but are available for use as personal defense weapons. They are turned on and off by a safety switch on the cuff and all of the wiring is encased in the glove itself. The power pack is inserted inside a pouch inside the cuff of the glove.

Perfect for a sporting enthusiast or for self defense. Comes in many fun colors!

LEGALITY​

Legal on most planets, forbidden on pacifistic worlds. Keep out of reach of children.

INTENT​

There is a severe lack of unarmed weaponry that can stand up against blasters and other melee weapons. Shock Boxing Gloves double as a personal defense weapon as well as an integral part for the sport itself. Don't want to carry a stun weapon? Wear Shock Boxing Gloves. Can't buy one of those hilarious hand zappers to prank your friends with? Wear Shock Boxing Gloves. They are multipurpose and will further enrich the universe with alternatives for unarmed fighters other than their bare fists or knuckle dusters.

ADVANCED TECH​

No, acquirable from sporting good stores or where self defense items are sold.

 

[Notorious]

Biggs Latore's Outfit​

Armored due to Biggs' paranoia, this suit is a fashionable alternative to wearing actual armor. It is rather heavy for a suit (complimenting the heavy man himself) but offers him more protection than most would think just by looking at him. It is made from a synthetic armor weave that is sewn into the interior of the suit itself. ​

LEGALITY​

Yes. Just an armored suit with legal functions. Boot knife potentially illegal in certain scenarios or places. ​

INTENT​

Just trying to clothe a slow, fat man so he doesn't get insta-killed. That and this big guy using the grappling function makes me laugh too hard NOT to do. It will also provide a nice medium suit armor instead of your standard vest.​

Type and Coverage

Type: Medium

Coverage:
​

• • Torso: Chest, Abdomen
  • Right Arm: Front and back of upper right arm, and elbows.
  • Left Arm: Front and back of upper left arm, and elbows.
  • Back: Upper and lower back.
  • Hands: Wrists and forearms, hands are exposed.
  • Legs: From Belt Down

Functions​

Function 1: Thermal Undersuit

• Thermal undersuits wick away or reflect thermal energy for brief periods of time. They are not nearly as effective as a suit that firefighters would wear. Most commonly used to protect soldiers from flamethrower weapons or short bursts of extreme heat, and are only good for 1-2 posts of exposure depending on intensity. They are useless against blasters. This is built into the suit itself on the inside at the deepest layer for added protection.

Function 2: Concealed Right Boot Blade

• Concealed 6 inch length blade in Bigg's right boot that locks into place once extended. They are no substitute for true combat knives as the locking mechanism can break under strong impacts. It is a helpful, last resort weapon.

Function 3: Grapple Line

• Grapple line capable of supporting the weight of 1-2 people (in this case only Biggs) and can launch up to ranges up to 15 meters away. Once no longer in use, they are detached from the launcher and left behind. Built into Biggs' right sleeve and is controlled by a button and must be manually activated as well as manually winched using a small control panel on his wrist at the base of the device.

 

[Notorious]

Biographical information​

Homeworld
Age
Mandalore
26

Physical Description​

Species
Gender
Height
Body Type
Hair color
Eye color
Skin color
Human
Female
5'10"
Athletic
Light Brown
Dark Brown
Olive

Misc. Information​

Affiliation(s):
Independent
Mandalorian

Profession:
Mercenary
Former Gladiator

_

.
Ayla Vizla

Excerpt · The Warrior · Personality · Powers and Abilities

A Mandalorian native, Ayla of the House Vizla is an intense warrior who holds her people above all else. She is fierce in battle and even more fierce when it comes to her people. She is a proud Mandalorian, their brutal history and all and accepts the state of her people as something that is only temporary. With hopes for the future of uniting her people she aims to stand beside those who would wish to unite Mandalore... or perhaps one day lead them herself if no one is up to the task.

_

▵The Warrior


You want to know about me, do you? What have you heard? Nothing? I am not surprised. My story has only just begun and I have been through many hardships away from home... and on it. My name is Ayla of the House Vizla, I am 26 years young and I hail from the planet Mandalore. I am from a strong people and from a strong family, my mother and father both warriors and I too grew to be just like them. Although they fell in combat long ago to a warring clan they always told me 'Ayla... Do not hate your fellow Mandalorians from other clans. Clan Vizla will one day reign supreme but do not hate the others... Even though hatred... we are of the same blood.'

My parents instilled in my young mind that Mandalore must be united, that we must band together behind a strong and powerful leader. I do not yet know if I possess the qualities needed for leadership but I do know if I ever find someone who does I will support them wholeheartedly. It is leadership that would have saved me from the trouble and trials I suffered... I do not regret the lessons I learned from my youth but I do wish that the future of Mandalore is brighter for its youth.

Losing my parents meant that I was to take care of myself, having no other family to show me the way. Unfortunately, this did not last long as my village was attacked by a clan of... lost Mandalorians. They took me in at the young age of 14, although by then I was already fighting and very well trained by my clan. This was of no use when an unarmed Ayla was forced to face four Mandalorians in full armor. I took out two before the third and forth got me. My parents never taught me much if I am being honest, but if they taught me one thing... It was how to be a warrior.

I was taken off planet and sold to the Hutts, presumably for something vile and disgusting. Perhaps be forced to become a dancer or worse. I was always pretty but this? My own people by blood... selling me away? It was unacceptable. I may wish to unite Mandalore but those who would do such a thing to a poor little girl deserves death. Unfortunately for the Hutts, they could not handle me. They thought they could scare me, it didn't work. They thought they could starve me, it didn't work. They thought they could break me, it didn't work.

Soon I was thrust into an arena like a common side show creature. I was to fight men, women... monster. Only armed with a vibroblade and my natural born talents. Naturally thanks to my lineage and my ancestors watching over me my blade struck true and I was the last survivor of the arena. They did this again. And again. And again. Years passed and word went around of a young girl slaughtering man and beast as if she was one herself. I hated the comparisons to being a man, I did enjoy the ones being called a beast however. The gods granted me this gift, who was I to not use it?

It was many years before I fought my way to freedom, slaughtering my former 'masters' and finding myself a long way from home. I had no ship nor piloting skills, I had no money other than what I stole from the slavers I slain... I was a lost nearly twenty year old girl with no direction. I had been a slave for over 5 years... Away from my people, away from Mandalore. My heart yearned for my home and I think in a way it yearned for me as well. I began to work my way home.

It was not easy, and I am not proud of everything I did, but I managed to work my way from planet to planet until I found myself on the planet Tattooine. It was a nasty desert planet and I was never quite clean there from the sand but it was where I finalized my skillset. I began taking on work, the kind normal people do not take. I was killing and hunting down people for hire. I was displaying my proficiency with a blade and a blaster until finally I had earned enough credits to move to the next planet. Next was Nar Shaddaa which... As much as I should hate it I ended up enjoying very much.

The moon planet was filled with terrible people so the jobs never really stopped. At one point I was so enamored with city living that I nearly forgot about home as I enjoyed my earnings and lived a simple life by taking up mercenary work. I never told others I was a Mandalorian and I did not have the armor to show for it, I simply began working to make a name for myself. As I was turning 24 (or just about, I did not count my days in slavery) I found a man, an older one. One who claimed to be from Mandalore and if fate would have it he was from my old clan, Clan Vizla.

He did not recognize me but of course, I was simply a little girl then, one who did not cherish the beauty of her world until she had lost it. The man knew of my parents however and offered to take me straight home to be reunited with my people. It felt too good to be true but as soon as I seen the same planet I had been forced to leave behind I nearly broke down and cried like a child. I was returning home a greater warrior than I had left however, so I simply starred at my beautiful world with glee.

I was finally home.

Now two years later I am still the proud, honorable warrior I have grown to be. If anything I have grown stronger with my people's help. Now that I returned my goal is to finish my dream and my parent's, unite Mandalore. Unite my people at no matter the cost. Whether it means sacrificing my own life or not.



▵Personality

If one word were to describe Ayla Vizla it would be that she is overly passionate. She is passionate about her mission to unite Mandalore, she is passionate about her prowess in battle and she is passionate about ridding the galaxy of those who would wish to enslave others. She believes in freedom and prosperity above all us and is truly a good soul, wanting nothing more than to help people. However, this does not mean that Ayla is an innocent soul herself. Far from it, in fact.

While to her family or friends Ayla can be the sweetest woman in the world to her enemy she is anything but. She has not only a temper but a furious one at that. If you cross her or simply fall on the wrong side she will not look at the grey of the situation and only see the black and white. She is not one for negotiation and she is not one to simply stand by and watch as someone innocent is taken advantage of. She holds honor and honesty at the highest regards, finding liars and cheaters to be the lowest form of society. The Jedi and Exiles just a small step above them on her list of unfavorable people.

Growing up without a formal education and then being whisked away into slavery Ayla is very naive. She is anything but book smart, the girl having a high combat intelligence but even after living for several years in cities and other planets many jokes will fly over her head or she won't take a hint. It is as if she was from a backwater planet and is just now finding out how the galaxy works now that she is here. This is due in part to simply being a warrior, a slave or a slave to her work in which she learned only the bare minimum to survive.

Being a mixed bag of sweet, sour and crazy, Ayla Vizla is one Mandalorian that you want on your side. If you're not she will have no words for you or worse, you'll have no words left at all.


▵Powers and Abilities
Formally trained with many manners of weapons and spending the bulk of her life fighting Ayla keeps a variety of equipment on her for mercenary work and for her own personal protection. She is more proficient with a blade than she is a blaster but can hold her own with the latter while dominating with the former.

Weapons:
Mandalorian Vibro-Sword (Basic Vibrosword with a fancy skin, didn't see any on the tech forum ironically so leaving this here. I'll do a generi-tech write up if necessary just lemme know.)

​

Holstered on the left side of her belt and proudly displayed, Ayla's weapon of choice.


Collapsible Vibrosword
Though preferring the more sturdy and traditional Vibrosword standard Ayla keeps this spare blade on her right thigh for backup.


CBC-1 Satyr Blaster Carbine (2x Power Cells)
Ayla prefers the smaller carbine for transport and maneuverability, relying on melee combat she would much prefer her blaster did its work when needed but not have to lug around the extra weight.

Armor:
Ayla's Medium Mandalorian Armor

Equipment:
Concussion Grenades (x2, on belt)

​