Apr 10, 2018 4:24:07 GMT
NAME: Ezan Vesall (though they've gone by several many names)
FACTION: -
RANK: -
SPECIES: Clawdite
AGE: No one's really sure? Maybe 20-25GSY
SEX: Though Ezan's baseline sex is female, they are comfortable as both a male and female
HEIGHT: 5'9"
WEIGHT: 187lbs
EYES: Depends (Blue)
HAIR: Depends (None)
SKIN: Depends (Olive green)
FORCE SENSITIVE: yeet (yes)
APPEARANCE:
First thing's first: Ezam is a Clawdite. Which means, their appearance varies, sometimes day to day. Their base
appearance is that of an average female Clawdite, scales and all. However, they do have a handful of preferred forms.
FORCE POWERS:
As of now, Ezan is still very much untrained in the Force. Oh, they know they have it, and they know how to use it - but right now, their powers are limited to the basic aspects of:
WEAPONS:
Just your basic everyday modified black market blaster rifle, nothing fancy. Oh, and an old-ass (blue, not orange) lightsaber probably crafted by a Jedi, and the Jedi is probably old and fat and smelly (
adi).
PERSONALITY:
Ezan is not a good person. They can be charming, they can have moments of mercy, and compassion. But they are not, nor should they ever be thought of, as a good person. It is important to understand this, and realise that there is a darkness that hides in everyone, especially Ezan. Never forget this, even when they bow to you with smiles and platitudes.
BIOGRAPHY:
What makes a person? Is it where they were born? The blood they share? The people they surround themselves with? Perhaps the skills they have? Or is it some enigmatic, highly complex combination of these?
Or perhaps, it's the person's history that makes them who they are.
If this is the case, then Ezan's recounting of their past most certainly reflects the type of person Ezan is.
To some, Ezan is a suave Mirialan, his piercing blue eyes enough to swoon almost any denizen unlucky enough to be caught in his trance.
To some, Ezan is a fierce, proud Zabrak, her violet eyes ablaze with determination and tattoos decorating every inch of her skin.
To some, Ezan is a cocky human, black hair expertly messy, and their lanky frame more graceful than it should be.
To the rest of the world, Ezan is an aloof, distant Arkanian, sometimes feminine, sometimes masculine, oftentimes neither.
To no one but their own, Ezan is but a simple Clawdite, the last of their line and searching for new meaning.
With each persona Ezan takes on, so too do they take on a whole new history, a whole new being. Their silver tongue has grown skilled with weaving webs of lies and deceit, and their mind is always coveting their secrets.
But no matter who Ezan is, if one were to glance into their eyes at the right moment, they would see a lost soul drowning in the sorrows of the universe.
Cutting through the lies and stories crafted by the Clawdite, the truth is that Ezan grew up with an unsurprising, yet all too common childhood.
Hated and shunned like so many others of their people, Ezan and their family fled their homeworld of Zolan in an attempt to build a better life. Instead, they settled on Nar Shaddaa, and quickly made a living by loaning themselves out for infiltration and partaking in other petty crime. Ezan was taught early on how to control their racial abilities, but their Force powers, while manifesting rather quickly, went entirely unnoticed.
Ezan took well to the life of a criminal, learning plenty of skills such as pickpocketing or picking locks. It wasn't a perfect life, and certainly had its dangers, but so long as Ezan was with their family, they were happy.
But apparently, the universe didn't like that.
Ezan remembered the first one to fall to the plague. Their sister, Nezti. Five hours later, their mother, then their father, then their little brother. One by one, succumbing to the disease. Tears streaming down Ezan's face as they were forced to put their entire family out of their misery, lest they themselves become infected. Taking what little possessions they could carry, and then burning down the entire apartment before fleeing.
That day, watching the blaze from the shadows as the people of Nar Shaddaa largely ignored it, was the day Ezan grew up. But it was also the day they died.
Shortly thereafter, Ezan lived the life of a freelance nomad. Leasing out their services in return for coin, or favors. Never staying in one place for long, never growing close to anyone, selling ships within a few months of purchase.
It wouldn't be long before Ezan's life was turned upside down again.
The job was simple. Some pirates had taken advantage of the chaos and looted several museums and treasuries. Some reclusive, shady individual with deep pockets wanted some of their newly acquired items. Ezan didn't ask questions, and the person offered no answers.
Ezan managed to get in well enough as their Mirialan, even snagging a curious-looking lightsaber and adding it to their luggage. It was the exit that caused complications. In their attempts to leave, Ezan encountered a strange man who exuded an aura never before felt by the Clawdite. The only thing they figured out during their encounter was this man could teach Ezan ...and that their name was Morna.
The Clawdite was awed at this man's apparent power, and though they were split apart, Ezan vowed to hunt down this Morna and convince him to take them on as their apprentice...no matter what.
MUSIC:
Until We Go Down by Ruelle [Arkanian]
Dark Side by Bishop Briggs [Chiss]
Not Gonna Break Me by Jamie N Commons [Zabrak]
Human by Rag'n'Bone Man [Human]
Emperor's New Clothes by Panic! At The Disco [Mirialan]
Miracle by The Score [Devaronian]
Don't Let Me Go by RAIGN [Clawdite]
SHIP:
Ships are for plebs.
ROLE-PLAYS:
FACTION: -
RANK: -
SPECIES: Clawdite
AGE: No one's really sure? Maybe 20-25GSY
SEX: Though Ezan's baseline sex is female, they are comfortable as both a male and female
HEIGHT: 5'9"
WEIGHT: 187lbs
EYES: Depends (Blue)
HAIR: Depends (None)
SKIN: Depends (Olive green)
FORCE SENSITIVE: yeet (yes)
APPEARANCE:
First thing's first: Ezam is a Clawdite. Which means, their appearance varies, sometimes day to day. Their base
appearance is that of an average female Clawdite, scales and all. However, they do have a handful of preferred forms.
- Androgynous Arkanian (their most preferred)
- Male Chiss
- Female Zabrak
- Androgynous Human (most commonly used)
- Male Mirialan
- Female Devaronian
FORCE POWERS:
As of now, Ezan is still very much untrained in the Force. Oh, they know they have it, and they know how to use it - but right now, their powers are limited to the basic aspects of:
- Force Sense
- Enhanced Physical Abilities
- (slight) Precognition
- (slight) Mind Trick
- (slight) Telekinesis
WEAPONS:
Just your basic everyday modified black market blaster rifle, nothing fancy. Oh, and an old-ass (blue, not orange) lightsaber probably crafted by a Jedi, and the Jedi is probably old and fat and smelly (
adi).PERSONALITY:
Ezan is not a good person. They can be charming, they can have moments of mercy, and compassion. But they are not, nor should they ever be thought of, as a good person. It is important to understand this, and realise that there is a darkness that hides in everyone, especially Ezan. Never forget this, even when they bow to you with smiles and platitudes.
BIOGRAPHY:
What makes a person? Is it where they were born? The blood they share? The people they surround themselves with? Perhaps the skills they have? Or is it some enigmatic, highly complex combination of these?
Or perhaps, it's the person's history that makes them who they are.
If this is the case, then Ezan's recounting of their past most certainly reflects the type of person Ezan is.
To some, Ezan is a suave Mirialan, his piercing blue eyes enough to swoon almost any denizen unlucky enough to be caught in his trance.
To some, Ezan is a fierce, proud Zabrak, her violet eyes ablaze with determination and tattoos decorating every inch of her skin.
To some, Ezan is a cocky human, black hair expertly messy, and their lanky frame more graceful than it should be.
To the rest of the world, Ezan is an aloof, distant Arkanian, sometimes feminine, sometimes masculine, oftentimes neither.
To no one but their own, Ezan is but a simple Clawdite, the last of their line and searching for new meaning.
With each persona Ezan takes on, so too do they take on a whole new history, a whole new being. Their silver tongue has grown skilled with weaving webs of lies and deceit, and their mind is always coveting their secrets.
But no matter who Ezan is, if one were to glance into their eyes at the right moment, they would see a lost soul drowning in the sorrows of the universe.
Cutting through the lies and stories crafted by the Clawdite, the truth is that Ezan grew up with an unsurprising, yet all too common childhood.
Hated and shunned like so many others of their people, Ezan and their family fled their homeworld of Zolan in an attempt to build a better life. Instead, they settled on Nar Shaddaa, and quickly made a living by loaning themselves out for infiltration and partaking in other petty crime. Ezan was taught early on how to control their racial abilities, but their Force powers, while manifesting rather quickly, went entirely unnoticed.
Ezan took well to the life of a criminal, learning plenty of skills such as pickpocketing or picking locks. It wasn't a perfect life, and certainly had its dangers, but so long as Ezan was with their family, they were happy.
But apparently, the universe didn't like that.
Ezan remembered the first one to fall to the plague. Their sister, Nezti. Five hours later, their mother, then their father, then their little brother. One by one, succumbing to the disease. Tears streaming down Ezan's face as they were forced to put their entire family out of their misery, lest they themselves become infected. Taking what little possessions they could carry, and then burning down the entire apartment before fleeing.
That day, watching the blaze from the shadows as the people of Nar Shaddaa largely ignored it, was the day Ezan grew up. But it was also the day they died.
Shortly thereafter, Ezan lived the life of a freelance nomad. Leasing out their services in return for coin, or favors. Never staying in one place for long, never growing close to anyone, selling ships within a few months of purchase.
It wouldn't be long before Ezan's life was turned upside down again.
The job was simple. Some pirates had taken advantage of the chaos and looted several museums and treasuries. Some reclusive, shady individual with deep pockets wanted some of their newly acquired items. Ezan didn't ask questions, and the person offered no answers.
Ezan managed to get in well enough as their Mirialan, even snagging a curious-looking lightsaber and adding it to their luggage. It was the exit that caused complications. In their attempts to leave, Ezan encountered a strange man who exuded an aura never before felt by the Clawdite. The only thing they figured out during their encounter was this man could teach Ezan ...and that their name was Morna.
The Clawdite was awed at this man's apparent power, and though they were split apart, Ezan vowed to hunt down this Morna and convince him to take them on as their apprentice...no matter what.
MUSIC:
Until We Go Down by Ruelle [Arkanian]
Dark Side by Bishop Briggs [Chiss]
Not Gonna Break Me by Jamie N Commons [Zabrak]
Human by Rag'n'Bone Man [Human]
Emperor's New Clothes by Panic! At The Disco [Mirialan]
Miracle by The Score [Devaronian]
Don't Let Me Go by RAIGN [Clawdite]
SHIP:
Ships are for plebs.
ROLE-PLAYS:
