FalloutJack

Dragon Ball: Universe Zero

@Balthazar007 A thought: If exhaustion is affecting health, you may want to add a proviso that you aren't likely to exhaust yourself to death, and that you're mainly stunned if you conk out, whereas someone trying to kill you is a bit different.

Dragon Ball: Universe Zero

@Balthazar007 Fortunately, I have one in mind. Aaand Niko's trainer actually has a superior version to boot.

Star Wars: Legacies (Always Open)

The second.

Said Character

Name: Tarak

Alias: Darth Tarak

Race: Zabrak (Male)

Faction: Sith, but only one in particular.

Alignment: Evil

Class: Force Sensitive (Sith)

Appearance: Heh heh heh heh heh heh...

Tarak is big, like Savage Opress big, and built for combat. He is not Dathomirian, however, but something different. Long ago, Zabrak were originally designed by the Rakata when they had lost their attunement to the Force. A genetically-engineered species, you can imagine that several different stages of development occurred to produce the battle-hardy people. Sometimes, a quirk of genetics brings forth a version with greater potential for violence than any normal member of their kind. This is looked down upon by other Zabrak as a 'Retrograde'. They are a proud people, never turning from a challenge, but Tarak is more naturally gifted in brutality, and he is marked thus, as all retrogrades are born with somewhat thicker horns, the pair located in the forehead region actually meant for headbutting and caving in skulls.

He is deeply-tanned in complexion, with a dirty-golden color in his eyes surrounding orange pupils and black-slit irises. Because his own kind are disgusted by this throwback heritage, and because he is a Sith, you would find him in a loose-fitting black mantle with a hood, more like a coat that is weather resistant, keeps the sun out of his eyes, and prevents immediate recognition. Underneath it, he is wearing modern body armor clothing, a mixture of the rough and the smooth textures, also cast darkly while broken by gray or silver where there is an outlining or something. His belt is Krayt Tail. His boots are industrial gear, insulated against hazards. Everything about him screams of unbreakable force. Whether that is true or not, aye, that's the kicker.

Personality: Let us begin...

Mr. Tarak is unique. I use that word specifically. He is a marvelous piece of work, mentally and physically at his peak. You've seen his body, and now you shall see his mind. He is as potentially savage as indicated, but I have both fortified AND enhanced these qualities. To leave him as an easily-aggravated creature would be a waste. That particular quality will come later. No, I trained him well, and so his savage fury, his monstrous brutality, his penchant for annihilation - all of this is a well-constructed sword. He has learned to suppress with contempt when those who are below him are not worth the fullness of his rage, and to burst at will against that which is far more deserving.

Normally, a Retrograde could not do thus, of course, but the benefit of proper genetic manipulation, technology which has been accessable for years, is that you can isolate some of the tendancies while allowing others to flourish. And so, Tarak is a Retrograde whose mind is an aquaduct of rage which flows marvelously, waiting for the floodgates to open and deluge all who stand before him. He functions as any sentient being...but he is also a Sith, and thus embraces the darkness to take what he desires, to fight and kill and relish in the act of combat. He does not back down from a challenge easily, yet knows when to cut his losses. He is anger incarnate, like an exploding sun, but only when he decides to loosen his grip. That is my gift to the galaxy, a perfect killing machine made of flesh and blood and Force.

The above statement is true, though it contains a fair amount of ego. What it doesn't say is that Tarak has more than killing on his mind. You see, he was not born an oppressed and hated individual on Iridonia. He was born in a lab, and is quite aware of the facts surrounding his life, but has not actually experienced it all, due to being trained in isolation until ready by a Sith Lord. Said Master used the most insidious weapon he could think of to retain Tarak's loyalty, which was The Truth. Therefore, he knows that he will not be accepted by Zabrak society, and perhaps not others, as well. Because his Master has worked to his benefit, Tarak has no reason to turn on him, not even for making him this way, because he also understands that it was purposed, and that it makes him strong. The only issue is that he somehow wants something more than what is provided...and he doesn't even know what.

Items: Good stuff in here.

Double Interlocking Light Saber - That is to say, a pair of individual light sabers that may interlock at the hilts to form a double-bladed saber. They are Krayt-scale over black metal with two ignition switches. The blades are lava crystal, creating intense heat and actually dripping with heated substance.

The Cleaving Tusk - An unmarked, unregistered, and largely unheard of fighter-bomber, a prototype for a kind of Sith-style vessel. It has a relatively-slim bodywork, with cockpit in front and a gradual tappering towards the back, with four wing-like protrusions that are similar in style to an X-Wing in attack mode, but they are shorter and seem more like tempered blades with end-mounted guns. Engines are towards the back, though the VERY back of the ship houses an energy bomber, not unlike a Tie-Bomber's own device. Basic shielding, decent scanners, hyperdrive enabled, etc. This fighter is designed as a nimble marauding vessel, built for strafing and bombing, but also quick maneuvers, especially when tucking its wings in towards the back (also then pointing the guns in that direction) and slipping into small places with its relatively-narrow profile. It is ideal for a force-user, it's dangerous in a Sith's hands.

Background: Now, let me tell you a story...

You're probably thinking 'A Zabrak. How original.', but I scoff at you for such thoughts. The Zabrak species was designed by the Rakata to a purpose. They were to be their battle-chargers, their warriors, their gauntlets thrown when the Force abandoned their own bodies. Potentially, they would have even become their new bodies, given time, but the Rakata died out and the Zabrak did not. The only thing left was for someone to realize their potential and use them. Truly, Sith of the old age did, and the Sisters of Dathomir OBVIOUSLY understood. It certainly seemed a prosperous move for Sidious, at one time. Ah, Sidious, you shriveled old fool... Where was I? Ah yes... Tarak.

He was neither born on Iridonia nor Dathomir, but in a tank eiither built from the designs of or stolen from the planet Kamino. There, a man waited patiently to train him. He was not accelerated in development. Short-term solutions lead to long-term failures. He was, instead, raised and educated from the beginning by both driods and that one man, he who would become his Master, and the Master of all who lived and breathed. We're going to run this galaxy, you and I. It will be such fun... Because of this, Tarak was able to develop as a normal member of his species, but isolated from his kind due to the fact that he was made exploiting the genetic throwback condition known as Retrograde Syndrome. He had been shown videos of others like him and how his kind reacted to him, and then told that though he was superior to them in every way, they would never accept his existence. His Master used this as the beginning tool to fuel his anger, and went on to state that he made him this way on purpose. Never give up a potential advantage, no matter how cruel it may be. Revel in your strength, your power. When none dare to challenge you, when the FEAR grips their hearts and minds forever, you are truly free.

Time went on, and you might think that his Master needed to oppress his student in order to retain his position, but no. As a great manipulator, that man decided that with the truth, Tarak would only anger and never feel betrayed, and if he were placated - with he playing the constant benefactor who knows all and understands his frustrations - he would himself never betray. And this worked. As teacher, his Master was harsh, but all that and more would be expected of him. He was only preparing himself for the worlds beyond. In time, Tarak grew in strength and fighting prowess, using the force by the greatest of battle instinct and being one with the tide that was his rage. He was ready, and that was when his Master told him of the Plan...

We are at a crossroads in the galaxy, Mr. Tarak. They out there have known fear and turmoil, misery and rage, chaos and strife... I have been preparing for this moment, and now it is here. What we shall do is this... All that is has been turned on its head by the Force. Once, there was balance, and then those fools with the Rule of Two made our side weaker, and so the Jedi overwhelmed the galaxy. But then, as luck would have it, their complacency caused their downfall, and we shall rise again. I have been in study, and in experimentation, waiting...watching... We will now bring this galaxy to its knees, remove the last errant traces of those with the Force, and then...push back with everything, so they are left reeling forever.

'When none dare to challenge you, you are truly free.' Those were his Master's words. He said that he would make this struggle for balance in the Force irrelevent, and he was the key. Sadly, it was not explained how, but his Master did say that it was possible with the right amount of study and research. Tarak was not his only experiment, just his most successful. Always, there was this feeling that something tremendous was in the works. He was given such indication, plenty of times, and assured that their power would be endless and overwhelming, and that the keys to this power had been developed over the course of many years and many battles, all of which the Master had witnessed with his own eyes. Tarak never quite got that part, as his Master seemed quite young. Nevertheless, he would do these things for his cause and see where they went. He had not done him a misdeed, but rather made him alive and real by his own hands. And while the feeling that he may be missing something that the man could not provide, there was no reason not to work to his benefit, to their benefit, for power and glory.

Supporting Characters: And now...

Darth Diabolus - Greetings. At last, we meet. I am the Master and the creator of Mr. Tarak, and it is I who have interjected within this file. After all, am I not a part of my greatest pupil, my dreaded apprentice? I ahould think so. I have a plan for this galaxy, for the future of all life on these worlds and out in space. As much as Jedi and Sith, warlords and revolutionaries, paupers and peacemakers have moved, I have been the shadow behind, the darkness beneath, the void beyond.... Long have I lived, though I share the face of human. In my time, I have always stirred things up, changed events towards the most violent outcomes. Now, as things are truly shaken up with the death of worlds and a fractured Empire, I will push things closer to the precipace, and the balance of all things will fall forever into darkness and chaos.

Star Wars: Legacies (Always Open)

He is ready.

Said Character

Name: Tarak

Alias: Darth Tarak

Race: Zabrak (Male)

Faction: Sith, but only one in particular.

Alignment: Evil

Class: Force Sensitive

Appearance: Heh heh heh heh heh heh...

Tarak is big, like Savage Opress big, and built for combat. He is not Dathomirian, however, but something different. Long ago, Zabrak were originally designed by the Rakata when they had lost their attunement to the Force. A genetically-engineered species, you can imagine that several different stages of development occurred to produce the battle-hardy people. Sometimes, a quirk of genetics brings forth a version with greater potential for violence than any normal member of their kind. This is looked down upon by other Zabrak as a 'Retrograde'. They are a proud people, never turning from a challenge, but Tarak is more naturally gifted in brutality, and he is marked thus, as all retrogrades are born with somewhat thicker horns, the pair located in the forehead region actually meant for headbutting and caving in skulls.

He is deeply-tanned in complexion, with a dirty-golden color in his eyes surrounding orange pupils and black-slit irises. Because his own kind are disgusted by this throwback heritage, and because he is a Sith, you would find him in a loose-fitting black mantle, more like a coat that is weather resistant, keeps the sun out of his eyes, and prevents immediate recognition. Underneath it, he is wearing modern body armor clothing, a mixture of the rough and the smooth textures, also cast darkly while broken by gray or silver where there is an outlining or something. His belt is Krayt Tail. His boots are industrial gear, insulated against hazards. Everything about him screams of unbreakable force. Whether that is true or not, aye, that's the kicker.

Personality: Let us begin...

Mr. Tarak is unique. I use that word specifically. He is a marvelous piece of work, mentally and physically at his peak. You've seen his body, and now you shall see his mind. He is as potentially savage as indicated, but I have both fortified AND enhanced these qualities. To leave him as an easily-aggravated creature would be a waste. That particular quality will come later. No, I trained him well, and so his savage fury, his monstrous brutality, his penchant for annihilation - all of this is a well-constructed sword. He has learned to suppress with contempt when those who are below him are not worth the fullness of his rage, and to burst at will against that which is far more deserving.

Normally, a Retrograde could not do thus, of course, but the benefit of proper genetic manipulation, technology which has been accessable for years, is that you can isolate some of the tendancies while allowing others to flourish. And so, Tarak is a Retrograde whose mind is an aquaduct of rage which flows marvelously, waiting for the floodgates to open and deluge all who stand before him. He functions as any sentient being...but he is also a Sith, and thus embraces the darkness to take what he desires, to fight and kill and relish in the act of combat. He does not back down from a challenge easily, yet knows when to cut his losses. He is anger incarnate, like an exploding sun, but only when he decides to loosen his grip. That is my gift to the galaxy, a perfect killing machine made of flesh and blood and Force.

The above statement is true, though it contains a fair amount of ego. What it doesn't say is that Tarak has more than killing on his mind. You see, he was not born an oppressed and hated individual on Iridonia. He was born in a lab, and is quite aware of the facts surrounding his life, but has not actually experienced it all, due to being trained in isolation until ready by a Sith Lord. Said Master used the most insidious weapon he could think of to retain Tarak's loyalty, which was The Truth. Therefore, he knows that he will not be accepted by Zabrak society, and perhaps not others, as well. Because his Master has worked to his benefit, Tarak has no reason to turn on him, not even for making him this way, because he also understands that it was purposed, and that it makes him strong. The only issue is that he somehow wants something more than what is provided...and he doesn't even know what.

Items: Good stuff in here.

Double Interlocking Light Saber - That is to say, a pair of individual light sabers that may interlock at the hilts to form a double-bladed saber. They are Krayt-scale over black metal with two ignition switches. The blades are lava crystal, creating intense heat and actually dripping with heated substance.

The Cleaving Tusk - An unmarked, unregistered, and largely unheard of fighter-bomber, a prototype for a kind of Sith-style vessel. It has a relatively-slim bodywork, with cockpit in front and a gradual tappering towards the back, with four wing-like protrusions that are similar in style to an X-Wing in attack mode, but they are shorter and seem more like tempered blades with end-mounted guns. Engines are towards the back, though the VERY back of the ship houses an energy bomber, not unlike a Tie-Bomber's own device. Basic shielding, decent scanners, hyperdrive enabled, etc. This fighter is designed as a nimble marauding vessel, build for strafing and bombing, but also quick maneuvers, especially when tucking its wings in towards the back (also then pointing the guns in that direction) and slipping into small places with its relatively-narrow profile. It is ideal for a force-user, it's dangerous in a Sith's hands.

Background: Now, let me tell you a story...

You're probably thinking 'A Zabrak. How original.', but I scoff at you for such thoughts. The Zabrak species was designed by the Rakata to a purpose. They were to be their battle-chargers, their warriors, their gauntlets thrown when the Force abandoned their own bodies. Potentially, they would have even become their new bodies, given time, but the Rakata died out and the Zabrak did not. The only thing left was for someone to realize their potential and use them. Truly, Sith of the old age did, and the Sisters of Dathomir OBVIOUSLY understood. It certainly seemed a propserous move for Sidious, at one time. Ah, Sidious, you shriveled old fool... Where was I? Ah yes... Tarak.

He was neither born on Iridonia nor Dathomir, but in a tank eiither built from the designs of or stolen from the planet Kamino. There, a man waited patiently to train him. He was not accelerated in development. Short-term solutions lead to long-term failures. He was, instead, raised and educated from the beginning by both driods and that one man, he who would become his Master, and the Master of all who lived and breathed. We're going to run this galaxy, you and I. It will be such fun... Because of this, Tarak was able to develop as a normal member of his species, but isolated from his kind due to the fact that he was made exploiting the genetic throwback condition known as Retrograde Syndrome. He had been shown videos of others like him and how his kind reacted to him, and then told that though he was superior to them in every way, they would never accept his existence. His Master used this as the beginning tool to fuel his anger, and went on to state that he made him this way on purpose. Never give up a potential advantage, no matter how cruel it may be. Revel in your strength, your power. When none dare to challenge you, when the FEAR grips their hearts and minds forever, you are truly free.

Time went on, and you might think that his Master needed to oppress his student in order to retain his position, but no. As a great manipulator, that man decided that with the truth, Tarak would only anger and never feel betrayed, and if he were placated - with he playing the constant benefactor who knows all and understands his frustrations - he would himself never betray. And this worked. As teacher, his Master was harsh, but all that and more would be expected of him. He was only preparing himself for the worlds beyond. In time, Tarak grew in strength and fighting prowess, using the force by the greatest of battle instinct and being one with the tide that was his rage. He was ready, and that was when his Master told him of the Plan...

We are at a crossroads in the galaxy, Mr. Tarak. They out there have known fear and turmoil, misery and rage, chaos and strife... I have been preparing for this moment, and now it is here. What we shall do is this... All that is has been turned on its head by the Force. Once, there was balance, and then those fools with the Rule of Two made our side weaker, and so the Jedi overwhelmed the galaxy. But then, as luck would have it, their complacency caused their downfall, and we shall rise again. I have been in study, and in experimentation, waiting...watching... We will now bring this galaxy to its knees, remove the last errant traces of those with the Force, and then...push back with everything, so they are left reeling forever.

'When none dare to challenge you, you are truly free.' Those were his Master's words. He said that he would make this struggle for balance in the Force irrelevent, and he was the key. Sadly, it was not explained how, but his Master did say that it was possible with the right amount of study and research. Tarak was not his only experiment, just his most successful. Always, there was this feeling that something tremendous was in the works. He was given such indication, plenty of times, and assured that their power would be endless and overwhelming, and that the keys to this power had been developed over the course of many years and many battles, all of which the Master had witnessed with his own eyes. Tarak never quite got that part, as his Master seemed quite young. Nevertheless, he would do these things for his cause and see where they went. He had not done him a misdeed, but rather made him alive and real by his own hands. And while the feeling that he may be missing something that the man could not provide, there was no reason not to work to his benefit, to their benefit, for power and glory.

Supporting Characters: And now...

Darth Diabolus - Greetings. At last, we meet. I am the Master and the creator of Mr. Tarak, and it is I who have interjected within this file. After all, am I not a part of my greatest pupil, my dreaded apprentice? I ahould think so. I have a plan for this galaxy, for the future of all life on these worlds and out in space. As much as Jedi and Sith, warlords and revolutionaries, paupers and peacemakers have moved, I have been the shadow behind, the darkness beneath, the void beyond.... Long have I lived, though I share the face of human. In my time, I have always stirred things up, changed events towards the most violent outcomes. Now, as things are truly shaken up with the death of worlds and a fractured Empire, I will push things closer to the precipace, and the balance of all things will fall forever into darkness and chaos.

Star Wars: Legacies (Always Open)

CORELLIA

Corellia, the great shipyards...

Where in all the galaxy could you find a place like this? So much production and resources, and so much crime. The planet was more factory than any place to live, but if you wanted to work here, you needed to live here, and if you didn't work AND you lived here, then you did crime here. There was very little between, apart from the infrastructure to support the lives of so many engineers, software programmers, mechanics, scrappers, labor forces, and so on. You still needed suppliers for tools, food, living accommodations, maintenance for all these things, clean-up crews, etc. The list goes on, and this is the surface to maybe down to perhaps...the sewer levels. But...Corellia, like any planet with huge technological works built upon it, has layers. Your basements have sub-basements that were themselves simply basements, and below them maintenance areas and mining facilities for the abundant resources of the planet.

Somewhere, amidst all of these places, beyond the criminal hideouts and squatter holes, in forgotten stretches of ductwork and cut-off abandoned rooms...lies Singe. Wherever Singe goes, this is where she inevitably ends up, an obscure and hard-to-reach location that not even maintenance droids can find. And if they do, she will reprogram them to think and report otherwise, that there is nothing here, that nobody is there at the bottom of the world or in the walls or somewhere nestled between floors. It is the way she lives, and has done for a few years now. As a silvery-haired woman - a Sephi - it becomes easy for her to be a target for people who have less-than-savory plans for her. They were not thea threat. In her work as a Slicer, there could be any number of people who could want to put her out of business for good, owing to the losses incurred by her actions. They were not the threat. In her circles, plenty of violence could erupt at a moment's notice, leaving many dead in their wake from over-zealous actions. Even this was not the threat.

The Empire was the threat. Always the threat. Always...

All those other things, she accepted the responsibility for the dangers, lived her life on that understandable edge. There was never a problem in her life, living that way. The Imperials, though... They were a whole 'nother story, and Singe...she thought big. She thought of making life harder for them in underground ways. And for a while, it worked, but...they bit back, and it hurt...alot. They changed the game, and now she was here, like this, or on other planets in similar positions. She would never again let that happen, and she would make them pay. All of them pay, every last Imperial piece of shit. They must pay. There was nothing else, except these acts. And so, even from isolation, she would set about the tasks of others to break the Empire with her data manipulations and meticulous plans, paying for every step she herself could not take with their own money.

And with every deed done, she would laugh, she would cry, she would drink, and she would zone out on the network.

And then, she would start it all over again.

One day, however, something had changed. The Rebels, already emboldened by their past victories, smashed the center of power that the Empire held onto so dearly. Their ultimate weapon, destroyed. Their flagship, crashed and burned. Their Lord Vader, dead. Their Emperor, gone. They had broken the back of the Empire, and in the ensuing chaos caused it to splinter. There was much celebration throughout the galaxy, and even in her hole, Singe had drank happily and laughed at the miserable fate of those she hated the most. But...it wasn't over yet. Time passed, and her work continued, but with the Imperials as broken as they were, it was no longer quite so easy to push them into situations, to set them up for disaster. They no longer felt safe and secure, a fact which made her smile, but because of this, procedure was no longer followed, and things would have to change. Singe looked around her dark area with her right amber eye, scanning around the area bathed in dim light.

I'll have to get out there. I don't want to...but I have to kill them all. Every last one of them must pay for what they did to me...

Even she knew that this was a disproportionate response to the situation, but there was a deep and empty gulf where any joy once resided. Even on the reggedy edge, life use to be so much more for her, and now no longer. The stench of the Empire must be scrubbed from existence, like her personal dossier from computers. So, gathering her things, she contacted...well, he was friendly, but not what she called a friend. He was a Tynnan, and they were the most common sensical species in the galaxy. She caught him on hypernet, obviously noy local, but perhaps enough so for a quick pick-up.

"Goggles, you there?"

"Oh, hey! If it ain't my voice from the darkness! What's on the agenda for today, huh? A bit of spice smuggling with Imperial data wedged near my forcefield generator? Dropping off a load of mercenaries into a cantina to intercept some shore leavers?"

"I need transport."

"Sure, sure! How many? Or how much? And where to?"

"I don't know where. Somewhere closer to the hub of activity, underground or otherwise. As for who...just me."

"Whoa, hey. You mean, you wanna meet? I thought you didn't DO direct."

"I don't. Didn't. I- ...it's complicated. Things are changing. I have to move on. I need to think. I need to be able to without worrying about whether I'm a stowaway or not. Could you? I mean, can you?"

There was a pause, as she knew the furry little creature was weighing things in his mind. Tynnan were small water-mammal beings, not great fighters, per se. Goggles himself claimed to go on runs with people sometimes, with a Dug, of all things, but his people didn't take unnecessary risks, because it simply wasn't good sense. If you started a fight on his ship while in transit, he didn't fight you. He locked you in a room, turned off the dampeners and gravity control, then spun the ship around until you were beaten senseless by the ship itself. He was a smart little rodent.

"Am I gonna be in trouble 'cause I know your face?"

"No more than you would for working with me. The Empire's in tatters, but I need to pull on those strings until they unravel entirely. So, can you pick me up on Corellia? Maybe take me somewhere to plan my next move? I need to get a feel for the galaxy again, breathe some new air, stuff like that."

"I can do it. Just, you know, pay me properly."

"I always do. I'm already on my way to your usual pick-up spot. Don't keep me waiting."

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

She was afraid, honestly afraid, but...she would still do it. She had to, until the job was done, and only then would she allow herself to rest... It was quite alot of crawling and slipping into places, unlocking doors and locking them again, sneaking through corridors whether they were disused or not, and for a while she was even on some sort of gang territory, though she couldn't care less. Singe was more capable than the riff-raff. Even before the incident, she could handle herself in a gun fight. Fact is, the first grunt of something even minorly aggressive, she took out her gun and fired at it. There was no time for niceties, right now. By the time she stepped out of an Employees Only area, ignoring the guard shouting at her to get out of the work area if she didn't belong there, she expected to see that freighter incoming at the designated landing pad.

The Crimson Fang was a decently-refurbished YT-1930 Corellian Freighter. It was like an old pet come home to master after a long journey. One of the few symetrical designs out of the lot, it apparently started out as a wreck that the Tynnan picked up at a low price and started doing jobs to...basically return to spaceworthyness. It had guns, decent hyperdrive, shields, ident-faking device, plenty of cargo and crawl spaces, and most of all...it was actually clean. It was also late. Singe felt uncomfortably exposed, and that wasn't because her shoulders were bare. She hadn't been out in a while, and although there weren't any obvious signs of bounty hunters incoming, the wait made her more and more paranoid as time went by. Finally...the cargo ship landed and the ramp dropped down, revealing the small brown-haired mammal that was Meyran Tufts, or Goggles, as he was called, because of the Occular Enhancer used to cope with his less-than-great eyesight. He stood there, light-repeating rifle in his hands, looking up at her, letting out a whistle between his buck teeth.

"No wonder you were in hiding."

"We can't all be small pudgey critters like you."

"Ain't that the truth. Might be more peaceful, though."

"Let's get going, alright?"

"No problem. Uhhh...maybe you wanna use the shower a bit?"

Singe blinked. The little guy had a sense of smell like you wouldn't believe.

"I...erm...yeah, thanks..."

They were on their way to Nar Shaddaa.

Star Wars: Legacies (Always Open)

@Ascendant Funny story: We've been discussing that. The current concensus is that our plotting will start out with people essentially at the head of their own personal tales (or collaborating as requested) until more and more interactions occur and events start to bring them all together for something much bigger. We've compared it to how the Marvel movies were handled, oddly enough.

Star Wars: Legacies (Always Open)

@Jarl Coolgruuf Yeah, that's what I meant, but the right term escaped me. Welcome aboard, though!

Star Wars: Legacies (Always Open)

@Jarl Coolgruuf Might need to be refreshed.

Star Wars: Legacies (Always Open)

'Kay, cool, done it, joining discord soon, but basically chilling right now.

Star Wars: Legacies (Always Open)

The first.

Yon Character

Name: Isara Sergren

Alias: Singe (Other names apply, as well.)

Race: Sephi (Female)

Faction: Not an official part of any organization, but heavily Anti-Empire.

Alignment: Neutral

Class: Scoundrel (Slicer)

Appearance: But hah! I will be using words AND pics! Bwa ha haaa!

The Sephi are fairly common in the galaxy, as it is said that any human-like being with pointed ears may trace their heritage back to them. Singe in particular is a full-blooded one, though given to have non-standard amber-colored eyes. She is slim and agile in form, and rather flexible, looking a little pale with long unkempt silver-white hair and a lazy or disinterested stare. The thing that particularly stands out about her is all the tech she's wearing along with blast-resistant armor clothing meant to cushion the wearer from concussive force and insulate them from heat or electrical sources. Essentially, it's tech worker and scavenger gear refitted to her own tastes, with her various devices woven in or belt-mounted, and it covers the old blaster wound on her back nicely.

Personality: Time to crack open that noggin.

To know Singe is to know a number of complexes, namely the ones that have shaped her into the person she is now. Let's start with the Slicing. Her approach to alot of her work is borderline obsessive, with a deep-seated need to hurt Imperials and generally terrible people whenever the chance arises. Such is not actually to be considered outright sadism, but some of the things she's done with computer systems or droids and the results therein can be considered so. More on this later. Singe mainly keeps to herself, having spent quite alot of time in isolation, simultaneously wishing she wasn't in isolation and not wanting to set foot outside ever again because of what happened last time, so why would you even THINK of doing that?

Basically, she's had a rough time in the past that's left her in a state that is depressed and almost desiring contact with others, but past events have made her loathe and fear any situation she cannot trust, which is alot nowadays. She obsessively performs her operations in isolation and tinkers with devices in an effort to 'fix' everything, but everything is just wrong and she can't repair what's wrong with her. All this, she covers with a somewhat arrogant professionalism with a certain disdain for things you can't measure the reliability of, such as people. Honestly, she wants to break out, but the Empire trying to break her left her in sort of a jaded mess.

Items: Always the fun part.

Arm-Mounted Slicer Gear x2 - Many Slicer devices are highly-customized, and that is true here. Singe employs two carbon-reinforced holo-emitter computers attached to long fingerless gloves (Solid-state, hurts if she backhands you with one.) that work in tandem and back each other up to prevent data loss if one is, for instance, shot. They respond to holographic controls, touch pad actions, voice activation, and subtle gestures that the sensors pick up for easy use. Apart from talking to computers wirelessly or via probe with infiltration programs and the like, they are also geared for creating hides and decoys holographically, as well as sudden sensory overload (visual strobe of painfully-bright colors).

Tactical Eyepatch - A device worn over Singe's left eye which is linked wirelessly to all of her devices for Slicing and general display purposes (such as virtual displays), as well as seeing through any camera or sensor she's planted, like the one mounted on her blaster. It has also been fitted with a comlink to allow for hands-free communication.

Choker Emitter - Although her computers are the ones doing all the heavy work, Singe wears a choker with a holo-emitter capable of delivering all of the tactical holographic deception and sensory overload programs at a simple gesture, a touch, the sound of her voice, and so on. It'll work alongside the computers when instituting these actions, but can operate independently, as well.

'Eye-Guy' Spy Cameras - Fairly-simple, but rather effective, camera devices built from droid eyes and micro-transmitters. Singe makes them with the intent of being planted, but also tries to make them at least a BIT mobile, with legs or wheels or whatever's available. They're essentially disposable, but useful.

'Watcher' Heavy Blaster Pistol - A custom blaster built from a number of scavenged parts. It is a well-balanced heavy blaster with regular and stun setting, the normal scope sight having been replaced with a camera that allows Singe to see where it is pointed through her eyepatch, making for quick and easy aim.

'Therefore' and 'Ergo' Vibro-Blades - A pair of mismatched vibroblade weapons, probably taken from different owners, then taken apart and put back together several times. They are functionally concealable switchblades, one marked with an S and the other an E, which is...odd.

Background: Aaand storytime!

You never call her Isara. You call her Singe because Isara Sergren shouldn't exist on a rapsheet or personal file anymore. If you DO know her by her real name, then you're either very close to her or about to be dead, because you have leaked information that could harm her, and she's not about to let that happen again. You're probably wondering what the first time was like. Sadly, you'll have to ask her yourself, because this document contains a program designed to remove detailed references to the event and then overwrite it to continue the narrative flow unbroken. The following describes what IS known about Singe that she's willing to share.

She has had a fair few names, strictly Slicer handles and nicknames, nothing that can be effectively traced. The only one oft-repeated is Singe, the name of a reclusive Slicer rumored to have created a number of situations that caused the Galactic Empire alot of trouble. It is her work, and her life. She operates by way of misinformation, sabotage, subterfuge, and the hiring of smugglers and mercenaries to do the things she can't do in person. Here is - for example - what a typical Singe action is like...

Discover a shipment of munitions bound for an Imperial base via computer intel.
Change the order's destination on the file so it's sent to a go-between who is a smuggler.
Send the smuggler to a storage facility with a saboteur who rigs the crates with explosives while en route.
Wait for the Imperials to get wind of the shipment's location and attempt recovery.
Hire mercenaries to attempt seizure of the shipment so that the Imperials fight hard to retain the goods.
The Imperials take the shipment aboard whatever vessel they took to get here.
Due to the shipment having been stolen earlier and unknown mercenaries trying to take it, they quickly check the contents.
In their haste, scans for explosive devices are not used and the bombs go off, killing many and destroying the munitions.
Pay for all of this with a Sliced Imperial bank account.

After a typical day of hurting the Empire in this way and similar, showing what a lack of caution and too much trust will get you, Singe would generally laugh at their current misery, get drunk, zone out in virtual computation and Slicing, and then pass out, usually in that order. She usually lives in underplaces - away from all other beings - in nook-and-cranny abandoned or strictly utility areas that nobody goes to or can normally access, but she's willing to crawl through lots of ductwork to reach and then close off for her exclusive use. Her most-recent locale is a deep dark area underneath a fair amount of factory on Correllia, far away from the noise of machinery where only the hum of devices electronic can be heard.

She's been this way for a while, and the only thing that's made her want to shift from where she is...is that the Empire is breaking down and may need a personal touch to make sure it stays broken...just like her.

Supporting Characters: Allies and Others!

Meyran Tufts, AKA Goggles - One of Singe's contacts, a Tynnan mechanic living out of a YT-1930 transport, the Crimson Fang. The planet Tynna and it's oddly space otter-like society was never conquered by the Galactic Empire, thanks to a strong planetary forcefield, so its society and connections as a load of technically-advanced mechanics and saboteurs is fully-intact. Goggles has plenty of mechanical and piloting ability on his own, and is part of a strong mechanics union based on the Shipwrights' Trace, as well as possessing his own contacts.

Kiara Tosk - A female Zabrak mercenary often seen leading a pair of Kel-Dor warriors and a load of mercenary droids on an AEG-77 Vigo, sometimes seen with a heavy weapon-wielding Ranth navigator. She is a leader of various gun-toting nutjobs and breakers of laws who also switch things up at times by doing some legal work. They are strictly come for the ultra-violence and the payment. Not here for your baggage, though Kiara herself is talkative and probing just for the hell of it.

Indoumodo Zones - Nobody is quite sure why this archaeologist decided to name himself after an obscure jungle planet filled with bugs, but supposedly it's where he goes to train to keep in shape in between expeditions to strange ruins and personal missions to recover stolen artifacts from collectors and criminals alike. What he is...is a fairly-affluent eccentric with an electro-stun grapple-whip and a gun...and that he's maybe the only person Singe dares call a friend. (It is also rumored that he may have a Light Whip, though that might be in a museum.)