It's all a work in progress so excuse any of the random sections that don't make sense or aren't filled out. I'm posting this so I don't lose it to a refresh.
| {Full Name} |
| {Age} |
| {Species} |
| {Gender} |
| {Force Sensitive/Alignment} |
| {Appearance} |
| {Equipment and Personal Belongings} |
| {Physical Abilities} |
| {Limitations} |
| {Personality} |
| {Place of Origin} |
| {Background} |
Orar-Parjai Vizsla
| {Full Name} |
Orar-Parjai Vizsla | (b: Viral)
| {Age} |
38
| {Species} |
Dathomirian Zabrak (Mandalorian)
| {Gender} |
Male
| {Force Sensitive/Alignment} |
No - Grey
| {Appearance} |
With much of the left side of his face marred by seriously unsightly scar tissue they're very much an imposing figure at a glance (much to their dismay) easily stood a good bit above the galactic average with a more athletic-heavy, apparently powerful physique. Their naturally yellow skinned is almost entirely blotted out by the traditional black tattooing lathered about his body, leaving some rather showy patterns. In stark contrast to most of their kin, his lengthy horns are often shore low, a sacrifice of pride made to comfortably seat his helmet (though they grow swiftly and require regular touching up).
| {Equipment and Personal Belongings} |
Mandalorian Armour | full beskar'gam, part of which was passed down to Parjai from his mentor and father figure, Shedd.
Weapons
Storage
Hanger
- Helmet features a tactical displays, a durable antenna-rangefinder, a pair of micro-floodlights either side in addition to a a light synthmesh facial hood split either side of the 'T' of it's visor by mag-strips (removable). Stencilled on are the honourable Jaig eyes in a matte yellow with white highlighting.
- Both vambraces sport Dur-24 wrist blasters on their outer sides as well as retractable wrist blades, the mirroring ends their though. While the left features a grapple line and shield emitter the right features an energised body, which while engaged causes immense pain through electricity and vibrations in order to deflect saber swings.
- Boots sport retracting blades towards the tips and heels with synthmesh layered over as well as magnetisied soles.
- Jetpack WIP
- Armoureweave bodysuit in a shade of charcoal with a synthmesh neckguard. A leather kama reinforced by armourweave in black with a light grey trim and a pair of gunmetal blaster holsters. Synthmesh bandoliers and straps along with a coarseweave poncho for style points.
Weapons
- E-5C Heavy Blaster Rifle | Slung over shoulder - Modified to sport an even more generous barrel length, forward grip and high powered variable optic.
- S-5 Heavy Blaster Pistol | Bandolier holster - A rather versatile blaster pistol with settings from kill to stun and even tranq' darts as well as liquid ascension cables.
- 2 Blurgg-1120 Holdout Blasters | Kama holsters - Both of which are modified to have barrels three inches longer than normal and are fixed in the two bolt burst configuration.
- Vibrobeskad | A vibrosword custom built from the ground up in the style of a traditional Mandalorian beskad sword, featuring the signature pronounced curvature towards the slashing end for strike leverage.
- Vibroknife | A simple vibroblade of around six inches, more a last resort than a true fighting dagger.
- 1 Thermal Imploder
- 2 EMP Grenades
- 1 Thermal Detonator
Storage
- A stock Z-6 Rotary Blaster Cannon for a bad day.
- A stolen RPS-6 Rocket Launcher also hidden away in their storage hold for a bad day.
- A stolen very illegal heavy repeating disruptor rifle also hidden away in their storage but.... for a very bad day.
Hanger
- Kom'rk-class Fighter
| {Physical Abilities} |
Ori'ramikad. What one imagines when they speak of a non-force sensitive capable of going toe-to-toe with a Jedi or a dedicated hunter of Dar'Manda. Honed through a lifetime of brutal training, hardship and practical experiences - swapping one warrior culture for another - they live deceptively agile despite their size and strength, just as to dodge as they are on the swing. A battlemaster of sorts; competent blademaster, sharpshooter and brawler with a modicum of prowess in aviation.
| {Limitations} |
Even among the apex of warriors their lacking in any sensitivity no doubt leaves them with an inherent disadvantage to their 'augmented' foes, whether it be within the cockpit barrelling through a debris field or matching pace on the ground, they're often left to fight far harder to overcome such adversity.
| {Personality} |
While a well meaning individual, they are a dangerous one. Comparable to an ever loyal second far too involved in the movement, viewing major deviations to be a threat. Dutiful but almost overzealous, willing to fight any and all that would oppose Clan and House. Though very few find themselves outright despised and more often than not those considered enemies are often force users.
Ascended from a mere tribe society, from imprisonment they have come to love life, to appreciate any and all offered to them, enjoying every second spent strolling through streets yet they wouldn't hesitate to end it all should Mand'Alor demand it. Beneath the steadfast shell is a heavily unsure centre, always wishing to meet demands yet longing to see life to the fullest. All in all it's highly unfortunate that they're a very outwardly intimidating individual, because they're quite the opposite in actuality.
Ascended from a mere tribe society, from imprisonment they have come to love life, to appreciate any and all offered to them, enjoying every second spent strolling through streets yet they wouldn't hesitate to end it all should Mand'Alor demand it. Beneath the steadfast shell is a heavily unsure centre, always wishing to meet demands yet longing to see life to the fullest. All in all it's highly unfortunate that they're a very outwardly intimidating individual, because they're quite the opposite in actuality.
| {Place of Origin} |
Dathomir - Barely a blip on the radar of most yet very much a head turner should you stride past a Dathmoririan in the street. Though for Parjai it was a home that never gave back and one he never intends to return to.
| {Background} |
Born on the world of Dathomir, pre-destined to live a life of highly martial isolation and fervently loyal servitude to one day meet his end at the hands satisfied Nightsister much like his father before him, Parjai's (then Viral) thoughts always ventured skyward and beyond - there was little to enjoy without thoughts of what lied further, life was monotonous; eat, sleep, train and repeat. Repeat until he was selected as a prime mate for a Nightsister or until a fellow brother snapped his neck during a spar. So in an odd way he was glad when a group of raiders struck at his camp in the dead of night and snatched who they could before being repelled, him unfortunately (or fortunately) among the number who, dispite their valiant attempt to ward off their abductors, were stolen to be sold on. Long before Grevious would come to ravage it one last time.
Life as a would-be slave lasted a mere blink before he traded one pair of chains for another, barely aboard the slavers vessel for a week when Republic security forces intercepted it and, thinking all aboard were in league with them, swiftly catalogued and imprisoned him. Barely even eighteen he spent a year in a detention block in the outer-rim, quickly learning the ways of the rough world before 'bad behaviour' garnered him a one way ticket to Coruscant's maximum security prison - except he never got there. Caught with engine failure during their hyperspace travel, the prison barge of nearly 80 mid to high level inmates floated aimlessly. It wasn't before long that the 30 or so guards found themselves overwhelmed and slaughtered. However whilst others spent time rioting futility or starving to death, Parjai and his two cell makes - a pair of Mandalorians: Shedd Vizsla an older, wiser Duros; and Kel Saxon a younger, slightly overconfident human - sought food and sure enough found it.
They were the lucky ones, having locked themselves in staff galley with a direct line to storage. Locking themselves away to enjoy the comforts without the cons. They'd float about for four years, much of the crew and their fellow inmates long dead by that time. With little to do Parjai spent his countless days learning from the two people who remained with him, fascinated by the tales they'd tell of Mandalorian exploits and ancient sagas, moved by the passion they had for their peoples - and when offered lessons in the language didn't dare hesitate to accept the offer.
By the time they would be rescued the trio were the only ones left alive. Though their rescuers were hesitant and rightly cautious of them, they were model guests and made no complaints through to their eventual landing on Coruscant, slipping into the fleeing masses - long since considered dead men to the prison system - but without any connections in the larger galaxy, Parjai was hardpressed to a place to settle in, naturally he stuck with the two closest people he knew. Heading to Mandalore with company before he made Concord Dawn his new home, living under Shedd's roof as a sort of son.
The challenges set in place to test him were not so much hurdles as they were insightful pillars, each test pushed him closer to understanding his people, each test set him straighter on the path to become a true Mandalorian and since the first day he managed to don their armours some twenty years ago, he has devoted his life to House Vizsla out of loyalty to a great friend and the Mandalorian people for their acceptance. Gladly conforming to their societal norms to don the armours, going so far as to adopt a new name - reborn Orar-Parjai, a Supercommando Commander and Champion of House Vizsla.
Life as a would-be slave lasted a mere blink before he traded one pair of chains for another, barely aboard the slavers vessel for a week when Republic security forces intercepted it and, thinking all aboard were in league with them, swiftly catalogued and imprisoned him. Barely even eighteen he spent a year in a detention block in the outer-rim, quickly learning the ways of the rough world before 'bad behaviour' garnered him a one way ticket to Coruscant's maximum security prison - except he never got there. Caught with engine failure during their hyperspace travel, the prison barge of nearly 80 mid to high level inmates floated aimlessly. It wasn't before long that the 30 or so guards found themselves overwhelmed and slaughtered. However whilst others spent time rioting futility or starving to death, Parjai and his two cell makes - a pair of Mandalorians: Shedd Vizsla an older, wiser Duros; and Kel Saxon a younger, slightly overconfident human - sought food and sure enough found it.
They were the lucky ones, having locked themselves in staff galley with a direct line to storage. Locking themselves away to enjoy the comforts without the cons. They'd float about for four years, much of the crew and their fellow inmates long dead by that time. With little to do Parjai spent his countless days learning from the two people who remained with him, fascinated by the tales they'd tell of Mandalorian exploits and ancient sagas, moved by the passion they had for their peoples - and when offered lessons in the language didn't dare hesitate to accept the offer.
By the time they would be rescued the trio were the only ones left alive. Though their rescuers were hesitant and rightly cautious of them, they were model guests and made no complaints through to their eventual landing on Coruscant, slipping into the fleeing masses - long since considered dead men to the prison system - but without any connections in the larger galaxy, Parjai was hardpressed to a place to settle in, naturally he stuck with the two closest people he knew. Heading to Mandalore with company before he made Concord Dawn his new home, living under Shedd's roof as a sort of son.
The challenges set in place to test him were not so much hurdles as they were insightful pillars, each test pushed him closer to understanding his people, each test set him straighter on the path to become a true Mandalorian and since the first day he managed to don their armours some twenty years ago, he has devoted his life to House Vizsla out of loyalty to a great friend and the Mandalorian people for their acceptance. Gladly conforming to their societal norms to don the armours, going so far as to adopt a new name - reborn Orar-Parjai, a Supercommando Commander and Champion of House Vizsla.