Prudence's Prunish CS Workshop

[Prudence]

Kalan Ordo

Background Personality Possessions Relationships Roleplays

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  HOMEWORLD: Mandalore
  AFFILIATION: GALAF
  Mandalorian Dominion—Former
  BRANCH: N/A
  Death Watch—Former
  RANK: N/A
  Duke—Former
  Director—Former
  
  SPECIES: Human
  GENDER: Male
  AGE: 30
  HEIGHT: 6'3
  WEIGHT: 212lbs
  
  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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  CHARISMA:
  

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  My my is my tale a long one. I started out on Mandalore (surprise I know) like just about every other Mandalorian in this damn galaxy. Life for me didn't really deviate from that of a Mandalorian born into the Republic Aligned (read Republic Occupied) Mandalore. I did well in primary school because I'm not an idiot (seriously how do you do poorly?), and moved onto university in Sundari. Now if you're following along that probably reads something akin to 'Kalan was a city dwelling Republic sympathizing nerd' to which I reply go space yourself. I was given a proper Mandalorian upbringing, the cornerstone of which firmly could be paraphrased as "**** the Republic." You've probably got this pretty picture in your head of how the galaxy works. The Republic is the shining knight that the Sith try so hard to tear down. The Jedi are everything peaceful and good in the galaxy, and finally Mandalorians are kessing savage warriors that teach their kids to fight and kill before they're even teenagers. I won't even comment on the Republic or the Jedi, but when it comes to the Mandalorians... you aren't entirely wrong. While not savages, we are the best warriors that you will ever find. That dumbass idea that 'Mandalorians are ragtag' was popularized by a xenophobe (read anti-Mandalorian) Xenologist by the name of K. Traviss. In a time where Mandalorians had recently just disowned one of their own Houses (House Genet), and no longer had a true standing army, Traviss popularized this idea that Mandalorians were these brute barbarian warriors, incapable of working together - and it stuck.
  
  Anyways, that was a bit of a deviation from my story. As I was given a proper upbringing I was taught to fight and kill from a young age, and just because I had begun at university that didn't mean that my training was over, or even paused. How can we best overthrow the Republic and regain our name but by showing them that we are superior? Not only was I determined to become one of the most successful scientists in the galaxy, but also one of the most lethal soldiers as well. When I was done with University I went on, meaning to get a graduate degree. I was planning something in engineering, or perhaps physics, though that never happened. Ordo being a smaller house it is very tight knit, and my Housemates and I were all under agreement that Mandalore needed to become free sooner or later, as were most of the other Houses,though Skirata approved the 'alignment'. It seemed like all our dreams were coming true when the Chosen, bunch of soldiers of fortune that they were, imploded and from the remains came Death Watch. It was like old times all over again.
  
  When it all started happening I was halfway through school, but I uprooted my life in order to become one of Kyramud's commandos. I never got to know the Mand'alor, but I did serve alongside him in one Mandalorian operation. Funny enough its the operation that I can never associate with or claim. When it became clear that Rhone wouldn't relent his hold over Mandalore, and that nothing else could be done, I swallowed the pill. I put on the false flag and I walked beside Kyramud, Deece, and the others as we massacred the Keldabe spaceport. The ride back to the Fortress was completely silent, none of us proud of what we'd just done. As soon as we were back I puked my last meal out, and for the next few weeks I couldn't find a moment of sleep, but I am a Mandalorian. I do whatever is required to bring independence and strength to the Mandalorian people, and our efforts paid off. It was later that year that Death Watch moved on Mandalore and her neighbor worlds, and soon they came under our flag.
  
  Like a dream come true as soon as the capital fell to the Mand'alor, so too did the rest of the sector and the Dominion was born. I joined the rest of the members of Death Watch that ultimately filed into the Dominion's ranks. All of our old actions were disavowed, but there was still a place for those of us that broke the Republic's chains under the Dominion's flag. I served on Coruscant as part of the Mand'alor's personal guard when he went planetside, and it was there that I witnessed history being made. As it had always been spoken of in legend, a challenger came forth and took the mantle of Mand'alor for herself. Though it was something I had always read about, witnessing the act brought me mixed feelings. The things I saw on Coruscant still haunt me. The Civilians falling under trampling Sith boots, the glimmering towers of Coruscant's skyline crumbling, and the large-scale loss of life. I was trained from a young age how to set aside the atrocities I would see in war aside to complete the mission, and those skills were further instilled during Death Watch, but I'm no machine and I still see the smoking skies when I try to sleep.
  
  Over the course of the five years after the Dominion took rise, and the Republic fell, I was on the front lines. I fought Sith and Jedi alike in skirmishes, leading to the half a decade of cold war that we suffered from. In that time I seized control of House Ordo, and I now stand as it's Duke. During the rise of the Dominion, not all rose with it. Ral Vizsla, once the son of Mandalore and the champion of the people, returned from the bloody dead and brought with him a regime. They overthrew Almec, but before he left the old man gave me a 'present'. The bloody spook had revived Death Watch from the very ground that he buried it in, and was running it as a covert spec ops group. Deniable operations, false flags, etc. I had been his deputy director, but with the tumbling of his house of cards, the organization fell into my lap to protect - so I sit as its director as well. Death Watch changed me, I find my cares have grown innumerably, and at night it's difficult to relax.
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  TROPES:
  __♦ Romantic
  __♦ Beserk Button - Dishonesty
  __♦ Prepared
  __♦ Deadpan Snark
  __♦ Jerk w/ Heart of Gold
  __♦ Paranoid
  __♦ Lawful Evil
  

  His entire life, Kalan has teetered on the thin blade between duty and honor. He is constantly at conflict between following orders, and following his ever eroding moralcompass. Early in his military career this was a difficult conflict for Kalan, leaving him torn apart on the inside from each of his actions. As he set aside his conscience more and more to complete the morally objectionable missions that were required of him, more and more of him was torn away. Where his sensibilities and human qualities had once been, pragmatism and cold resigned calculation remain now.
  
  Kalan still longs for happiness, to find someone that cares for him, and to settle a family. However, the growing war on the horizon has left him pessimistic about ever finding a life outside of his duty. The defining feature of Kalan's personality is the ability to press on, seemingly effortlessly, as life beats down on him, and war tears his soul apart.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  Primary Weapons
  

  A-140 - In a chest harness
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  Secondary Weapons
  

  Sunspear Heavy Pistol | TS-15
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  All weapons triple the given ammo clips.
  
  Melee Weapons
  

  Extendable Vibroblade
  Malak Maldor's Lightsaber
  Vrist's Lightsaber
  Calmax's Lightsaber
  Asher Khor's Lightsabers (2x)
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  Equipment
  

  EMP (4) | MK-3 (4) |Thermal Detonator (x4)
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  Misc
  

  Communicator | Datapad | SOS Beacon | Holocam | Medkit
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  CCT MK II Armor
  Functions:
  

  1) Jetpack
  2) Left Hardpoint Rocket Launcher(3x)
  3) HUD
  4) Right Hardpoint Flamethrower
  ​

  In addition, due to his status as a Duke, and the Director of Death Watch, the gauntlets (including gloves) and the shins have been reinforced with phrik, as to defend against a single hit from a lightsaber. When serving in Death Watch capacities Kalan uses an identical set of armor, however the color scheme has been changed to a deep blue with gray accents, to protect his identity.
  
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  Lanna Singh - @Zenya - Romantic
  
  In the weeks immediately following the formation of Dominion, while Kalan a SuperCommando, Kalan met young Jedi Padawan Lanna Singh. The two worked together on the planet of Umbara to end Sith advances in the system. Despite Kalan's distaste for Force Sensitives Kalan assisted the group at the behest of Vesper Almec - a known associate of one of the Jedi. After the operation Kalan once again worked with Singh on Tatooine to hunt down a major spice ring on the Mandalorian Planet. The two developed an antagonistic relationship in the beginning, but then formed a friendship by the end of the mission.
  
  Years later, Kalan tracked Lanna to a hotel in Ord Mantell. While there the two shared a drink in the bar of the hotel before returning to Singh's room to continue their conversation. The conversation ended in a passionate argument between them, culminating in the two of them heading to bed together. What was born that night was a tenuous, but passionate, relationship between the most unlikely of people.
  
  
  Kills:
  Malek Maldor
  Sarisa Sannin
  Vrist'iluok'bricors
  Asher Khor
  Calmax Zokar
  Evelyn Tenebris
  
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  Spirits in the Dark ▬ Complete ▬ Pre-Skip
  The Long Fall ▬ Abandoned ▬ Pre-Skip
  Crystal Thieves ▬ Ruled Ending ▬ Pre-Skip
  March of the Pigs ▬ Complete ▬ Pre-Skip
  Remembrance ▬ Abandoned
  Way Down We Go ▬ Complete
  Chapter 1: Gathering of the Clans ▬ Ongoing
  The Snake in the Skull ▬ Ongoing
  Mandalore Indomitus ▬ Complete
  You've got a Friend in Me ▬ Complete
  You Belong With Me ▬ Complete
  Building Blocks ▬ Complete
  Slars' Stars: Mando Mayhem ▬ Ongoing
  Slaves No More ▬ Complete
  Standard Operating Procedure ▬ Ongoing
  A New Type of Mission ▬ Ongoing
  Frozen Wastelands ▬ Ongoing
  Gehenna's Gate ▬ Ongoing
  Government Shutdown ▬ Ongoing
  You Knocked? ▬ Complete
  Getting Away With Murder ▬ Ongoing
  

 

[Prudence]

Ser Korren Vyllas

Background Personality

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  HOMEWORLD: Nar Shaddaa
  AFFILIATION: The Paladins of Mortis
  BRANCH: Warrior
  RANK: Knight
  
  SPECIES: Human
  GENDER: Male
  AGE: 33
  HEIGHT: 6'3
  WEIGHT: 198 lbs
  
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  INTELLIGENCE:
  

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  WISDOM:
  

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  CHARISMA:
  

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  My life can be summed up as a fuckin series of poor decisions and near-misses with alcohol poisoning. I was born to a barmaid and a businessman in the seedy part of Nar Shaddaa. Now I know what yer thinkin', there's parts of Nar Shaddaa that aren't seedy? Believe me, this district takes the cake. Anywho, my childhood was boring and uneventful, me mom gave me the best raising that I could get, for a poor bartender who worked on the side as an escort. Mum didn't really know dad's name, though he'd left his holocard with her incase she might want to 'stop by for a round two', but she didn't remember the deadbeat's name. I ended up with her last name, and a penchant for fighting due to growing up with the fuckers I called friends always giving me hell about not having a dad, and just because they were assholes in general. Hard to believe, I know, that there could possibly be an asshole on Nar Shaddaa, but trust me―there were a few.
  
  Mum spent most of my time growing up drinking herself into a spiral, and talking about how shitty her life was. Didn't really surprise me when she came down with liver disease and bit it within a year of that. She gave me all she could, which wasn't saying much, but she did give me a few things worth noticing, like a habit for drinking way more than I should, and a mouth that got me into way more than I could afford. With her gone there was little binding me to the shithole that I'd called home for the past 19 or so years, so I ventured out into the wide galaxy―the first bloody mistake, life would've been so much easier if I hadn't. Growing up I didn't learn much other than how to fight, and how to talk shit, turns out both were valuable traits as a sellsword. Mercenary became my trade, and I worked for all kinds of buyers, rich and poor, scummy and moral, across the mid and inner rims. I served in private security details, hit squads, and even your occasional private army. The more work I did, the better I got at it.
  
  Eventually I found a particularly rich client who, besides paying me handsomely, offered to marry me to his daughter. She wasn't particularly a looker by any means, but she came with a deep bank account and a hefty chunk of land. So for the first time in me life I settled down, choosing to live some kinda ass domestic life rather than fighting to make a living. It was a rough transition at first, but I gotta be honest, the life of a Lord suited me. I had servants to handle my menial needs, and I had a companion that wasn't so hard to look at―life was looking up for old Korren, that was until it started looking down again. When the Empire began spreading across the galaxy they came to settle their eyes on my backwater kingdom, and of course they wanted the planet. I could care less who's flag I was living under, but of course my ass-for-brains soldiers didn't really get that memo. I was off doing something Lord-y, like a feast or something with some fellow gentlemen or whatever they called themselves when it all went down. Stormtroopers came knocking, and when those idiots put up a fight they slaughtered everyone inside, including my blonde-haired connection to daddy's money.
  
  There was nothing left for me in backwater paradise anymore, my land, my people, and my wife gone, so I didn't even look back. I gathered the money I had available, that the Stormtroopers hadn't raided, and I just flew. I flew to whatever remote planet I could find, away from where I was, and away from the damned Empire. Low and behold, that brought me to Adumar, home of the bloody Paladins. I didn't realize that the fuckin Force had a church, or that they were posted up on the shithole that I'd chosen to call home, but that was my luck. I lived a nice peaceful drunken life on Adumar for a few weeks, before the authorities started trying to get me to leave for 'public drunkenness' and 'loitering' as I had no place to stay. One thing led to another and I seemed to have found myself shoving a red lightsaber I'd picked up earlier in life through one of their heads. Seemed the Paladins didn't appreciate this for a variety of reasons, and they arrested me. Given the choice of a trial by their stuck-up holy Marshalls, or a trial by combat, I put my life on my sword as I'd done for years before. They sent some kind of honorable knight to fight me, and I cut out the bloke's legs and sent him falling to his demise. Despite my dirty tactics they still proclaimed that I was "innocent in the eyes of the force" and a freeman. One of the fuckers even offered me Knighthood if I would cast away my "sins" and join their church. With no real options outside of Adumar, and nothing better to do, I found myself pronounced Ser Korren, and here we are.
  
• 

  
  
  TROPES:
  to be updated
  

  Korren is a simple man in almost every meaning of the word. He doesn't require expensive or complicated things in life to find peace, just money, booze, and a decent woman by his side and he considers himself happy. His entire life has been a series of rough patches and harsh situations that he'd rather find himself not a part of. Despite this, he puts his nose to the grindstone and does the unpleasant work that he has to to get where he wants to be, and puts his life on the line more times than not to better his future. Korren doesn't find himself making meaningful relationships often, as it's often difficult for him to find someone that truly wants to get to know him or talk to him, despite this when he does make a true relationship he is fiercely loyal to said person. He's got a false sense of bravado that he always puts forth, but deep inside he's constantly scared that his skills with a sword or a blaster will fail and he'll find himself on the killing end of the blade.

 

[Prudence]

Kane Royce

Background Personality

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  HOMEWORLD: Detroit Nar Shaddaa
  ALIAS: Slam Shidy | Menime
  AFFILIATION: Indie AF
  SPECIES: Human
  GENDER: Male
  AGE: 44
  HEIGHT: 5'9
  WEIGHT: 230 lbs
  
  STRENGTH:
  

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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.
  
• 

  
  
  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.