Lamper's Holy Temple DOTR Workshop

[Lamper]

Dawn of the Republic Characters
Jedi-Zealot Aibhne Tibbot___&___Jedi-Outcast Rhys Whitley

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This thread is for the organizing of my thoughts in one place for the upcoming timeline. These characters are works in progress until further TT announcements are released and are subject to change, but feedback is more than welcome. Also, if anyone's interested in working out prior relationships of any kind to build on bios I welcome any invitations.

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INDEX

_____1. Aibhne Tibbot
_____2. Rhys Whitley
_____3. Some music
_____4. Gear an Stuff

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[Aibhne Tibbot]

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JEDI KNIGHT AIBHNE TIBBOT (eev-nee • ti-bot) HUMAN_ • _CAUCASIAN_ • _29_ • _181CM DIRTY-BLONDE _ • _ DULL BLUE-GREEN ATHLETIC-TONED _ • _ BARITONE-GUTTERAL † THEME SCHUBERT - AVE MARIA †​ THE-JINGO CELIBATE-HERO THE-CYNIC MORAL-NIHILIST CONSUMMATE-PROFESSIONAL EMOTIONALLY-TONGUE-TIED FATAL-FLAW NEAT-FREAK WHAT-YOU-ARE-IN-THE-DARK "Of all creatures that breathe and move, nothing is bred that is weaker and more wretched than man."​

​

_Aibhne Tibbot was born on Clendor to farmers Hadrian Tibbot and Alice Cedany Emelyne in a medieval and pastoral village. A feudalistic society built upon the broken backs of the war-torn commoners, the city of Abethine was a poverty stricken grassland half plagued by illness. Disease and derangement throttled the land despite there being cures for almost every ailment, though most were too expensive to purchase or too easily stolen in transit. Over a day's ride on horseback to the nearest homestead, fuel too precious to waste on speeders, the people were spread thin across their barons' lands. And occasional beast attacks and power plays for building empires under a single baron gifted the prairies with more widows and orphans than it could handle, before those acres were neglected by their barons and declared vagrant lands to be reoccupied.

Hadrian Tibbot was a good man, Aibhne's mother Alice always said. Hadrian was abusive, an alcoholic, and a work addict. And one whole summer, Hadrian was off fighting for a ruler he'd never met. It was the best summer Aibhne can remember, save for the night the reptilian scavengers descended. Hadrian returned with an amputated right leg and Aibhne felt guilty for enjoying the summer. Alice Cedany Emelyne will always be the strongest woman Aibhne's ever known. She was a mortification ascetic and a loyal wife, as well as a loving mother. When her eyes weren't bruised shut by her lover, her back was bloodied by the thrashing of her own hand, her thigh always clamped in a binding. One winter Hadrian was in a drunken rage because Aibhne in his inexperience spoiled half a year's stock and Alice miscarried Aibhne's younger sister to be. Though she suffered many months of tears and physical pain, Alice never blamed Hadrian. She never did. Aibhne blamed himself. He respected and hated his father, while he idolized and revered his mother. He never learned to understand their religion, though Alice and Aibhne kneeled every night and prayed the maiden's chant.

_One morning, vagrants happened upon the farm in search of shelter from beasts after deserting battle to wander the land. Aibhne had fought with Alice the night before when Hadrian had beaten her, angry that she allowed it and never let him stand up for her. He'd managed to oppose his father in a heated argument, but Hadrian's drunken words and pitifully broken body guilted Aibhne into submission. The vagrants moved on the house, Aibhne having spent the night in the stables, and overwhelmed the crippled Hadrian. Alice surprised the vagrants with her strength and ferocity, killing one of them, but was subdued as much by these invaders as by her wounds from the night before. Aibhne awoke amidst straw stacks from a fevered dream of vagrants attacking his parents and a miraculous feat by his own hand which he could not explain. So he rushed to the house and intervened, but was just a child. Hadrian refused to sit and watch these brutes have their way, prompting a shovel to the temple. In that moment Aibhne heard his mother's words of respect for his father echo in memory, words of sacrifice and labor, and though he was unsure if he agreed with them he was impacted by them and saw the image of his dream before him. And before their eyes, the shovel stopped short of Hadrian's face. It was frozen by Aibhne's will, hand outstretched and shaking, and every one of them witnessed the supernatural struggle. Father and mother managed to clumsily subdue their attackers in their moment of stupor despite their wounds, and Aibhne was pronounced a viable Jedi candidate.

With the current threat of galactic war looming, Baron Mesaleath had spread word of great reward for the recruitment of any Jedi candidates as he had been promised support for the assembly of young Force adepts. With this sacrifice, Aibhne could ensure his parent's survival. He felt betrayed by his mother most of all, but was explained as the right thing to do for his family. Life in the badlands was ever anything but merciful. And Aibhne had weeks to come to terms with his duty as word traveled slowly across these lands. Eventually he was parted from his family and taken by royal caravan landspeeder to the Baron's castle where he awaited his Jedi courier. In this short time, Aibhne came to know a young girl named Esylit who shook his understanding of selflessness his mother had strictly instilled in him. She was his first kiss. She treated him as her plaything and never gave him anything in return. He never saw her again.

_Pledging to the Jedi Order. And the Code. words words words Ivory Phrik Jerkin, Phrik Gauntlets, and Phrik Greaves. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade. _And yet the menace of the years_ Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.​ Upon recruitment to the Order, Aibhne was taken to the planet Tython and trained in the monastic ways of the Jedi. He studied under a host of tutors the faiths of the Force, the arts of defense, and the Schism that defines their enlightenment.

_One Knight Orrand D'ebousey towered over the rest in Aibhne's eyes, a model of devotion and benediction. And his command of the Force was second only to his prowess with the lightsaber, though Aibhne's deification of the Knight ignored all deficiencies of the man. His doctrine was axiom. Orrand built upon Alice Cedany Emelyn's asceticism, teaching severe self-discipline and abstinence in Aibhne's studies of paralleled Jedi temperance. And such philosophies were austere, even amongst some of Orrand's peers. But even more widely shunned was Orrand's inner turmoil, often subjecting his associates to judgements of impractical standards. It was Orrand who offered Aibhne a set of ivory armor on a mantle beside his cot and challenged Aibhne to merit the right to one day don the holy image of his orison, the righteous mandate of servitude. Many trials and tribulations befell Aibhne in his endeavor to earn the radiant armor, numerous failures and victories alike equally challenging his covenant with the trophy; though none broke his spirit, and he would eventually wear his prize to the ceremony of his christening.

One tribulation of the faith was embodied in a town massacre: The Genesis of the Gray Order. To be recounted upon the completion of "The Fulcrum's" write-up. Orrand and Aibhne are involved in the tense exchange as depicted by one of the minor aggressors in the middle and side with the overarching order to execute as a necessity of lawful prudence, siding against those who protest what they perceive to be excessive violence and unnecessary persecution.

_The blade is baptized in blood.
A young man, Aibhne is commissioned by a reputably gentile Knight errant by the name of Fererra Tarianjha to arrest a crime lord's director of finance, the politically immune drug trafficker's right hand man. Knight Tarianjha caution's Aibhne's fervor for order and justice as a lesson in peace and empathetic neutrality of verdict, posing that sentencing a soul to restitution is society's role through the courts and not some whim resolved by a lone vigilante. It was not the first time he had been counseled of grace. But Aibhne sees disappointment in Orrand's eyes even in the mere consideration of the supposition in a last exchange of glances on the morning of his departure in the hangar bay. Whether it was Orrand's intent to display discontent or simply reveal a mentor's angst for the boy's survival was an insight left in the eye of the beholder. It was the last time he saw his revered mentor, the last image of failure burnt into mind in a moment of intellectual and spiritual weakness. It is said that Orrand was killed by a renegade Jedi following tales of the Sith, that Orrand was witnessed to seem unusually distracted during his last day.

Aibhne tracked his target, the slimy Quendar Goss, through a cesspool of slave networks and chem shacks. His code of ethics was at constant odds with his conduct, seeing the worst in primal beings of all kinds. Knight Tarianjha's relentlessly resurgent words were ever decimated by Aibhne's skewed perception of Knight Orrand's wisdom, despite Aibhne's flurry of emotions both in favor and in opposition to their views and his own, wavering between them. In his heart, he mourned and loved the victims before him; as he condemned and hated those deemed responsible, struggling to preserve peace in calm as the Jedi taught him. He stopped nefarious crimes and saved coward and thug alike, only to see the error of his ways as the ripples of his decisions plagued those he tried to protect. All the while, the lessons of his father and mother were supported by his mentor's stark depiction of the galaxy; and Aibhne's elemental intuition finally grasped onto the shadow of his father as its likeness was mirrored in Aibhne's cultivation. He eventually found Quendar, mired in lecherous filth that sickened and provoked Aibhne. And instead of subduing the criminal as instructed in order to voice evidence of his lord's unlawful conduct with which to suspend his lord's diplomatic immunity, Aibhne cut Quendar's pleas short with his blade; cleaving the creature's hand from wrist. Quendar's specious howls irked Aibhne beyond restraint, divine judgement transcendentally commanding the crushing collapse of Quendar's voicebox by Aibhne's clawed and trembling hand. Mired in the murky marshes of darkness, Aibhne's concentration was shaken by a protesting slave girl and Aibhne's celestial grip suddenly ruptured a digit in Quendar's spinal column upon jarring release and recapture and the malefactor was dead.

Aibhne quickly regretted his actions. Yet he eventually learned to accept this more direct and distrustful perspective of the galaxy, while also learning the error in this particular event. While Aibhne pulled a weed from its roots, he also left a void easily filled by another and failed to pin the charges on the crime lord who continued business as usual. Tarianjha counseled such logic and wisdom after breaking the news of Orrand's demise, yet was left uninformed of the more malicious details regarding Quendar's murder and Aibhne's disturbing taste of the Taint.

_Her beauty rewarded me. Molly Daisley. words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words wor words _In the void of emotional connection and kinship left by the loss of his mentor and lack of familial ties to fall back on, Aibhne fell into depression; living a life of blatant hypocrisy away from the eyes of the more prestigious members of the Order. He passionately followed his mentor's tenets through mania and a zealot's righteous indignation while simultaneously following his desires and feeding his selfish insufficiencies. Though never fully falling for his baser urges, he was tormented all the more for tempting himself with objects of lust and gluttony.

One day, in a teary-eyed tantrum of rhetorical, philosophical debate over a quivering and fear induced defecating addict who'd asked the wrong person if they had any dope, a samaritan woman pitied both men and pried Aibhne from the anemic. Her name was Molly Daisley. She listened to Aibhne go on for hours until his head rested in her arms in a quiet sleep. From that day on, his mind was like putty in her hands. Growing to love Molly more than he ever thought possible, he relearned his resolution in his doctrine; closing every loophole he had recently permitted save for one. Though she rebuilt his self-made morals and healed his wounds, in doing so she doomed her fantasy of a love lived with him. More and more Aibhne refused to succumb to nature's sins, meditating on paths leading away from biological designs; believing these to be constructs of unenlightened libidos, enslaved to the machinations of chaos. In his healing, she sought their future. Yet as he healed, he refrained from her affection more and more. It tore him apart like nothing else to deny his love for her, yet gifted his ideologue with the crowning crucible that could prove himself infallible. Ultimately it hinged on an argument. She demanded intimacy. He ruefully refused. And she left him. It was the most difficult decision of his life, his most tragic loss and yet the greatest triumph for his dogma.

_

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Of these I avow,

There is no emotion, there is peace​

The natural state as defined by flesh is sin. Banish all disturbances. Clear the mind. Emotion is a natural instinctive state of mind deriving from circumstances, mood, or relationships; an intuitive feeling distinguished from reasoning or knowledge. Thus enlightenment is achieved through abstinence of the natural, the physical, through fasting and celibacy. Though it remains that I greatly desire designs of biological inertia, I achieve abstract nirvana in every act of restraint.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge​

Experience and understand all. When the theoretical fails, as defined by creed of calm observance, then first hand experience is permitted to degree. For it is said, know thy enemy.

There is no passion, there is serenity​

There is no desire nor enjoyment, carnal or the like. There is no self. Stay a steady aim and unbending will. Passion is strong feeling that causes to act dangerously in chaos, or strong sexual feeling for another. Serene is clear and free of unpleasant change, or shining bright and steady. Thus unpleasant change of mind is forbidden while passion of a selfish and carnal nature is dangerous, yet other categorical expressions of passion uniquely serve the function of duty and can be achieved through immersed tranquility otherwise perceived as burning rage.

There is no chaos, there is harmony​

There is no confusion nor disorder. There is zeal. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Chaos is complete confusion and disorder; a state in which behavior and events are not controlled by anything. Chaos is the enemy to peace, knowledge, serenity, harmony, and ultimately the Force. Therefore chaos is the faithful's nemesis.

There is no death, there is the Force​

One does not pass from this existence. One only remains of the Force. To never die means to have never been born, one's true self - not the shell of flesh. Therefore one who is connected to the Force is the Force, and the Force is both the Light and the Dark. There is no balance, but rather two differing wills; one to make able or gain control and one to bar the mind and spirit from agitation. Thus if one actively denies oneself the connection to the Force, one is a baser life form undeserving of the respect one has so carelessly cast aside.

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Aibhne Tibbot seeks to become able and gain control while separating his mind and spirit from agitation. He rebukes the "natural state" of things where the external affects the individual, and instead seeks abstinence from all things human so that the hollowed internal is in control and affects the chaotic external. He seeks knowledge and understanding in all things, to touch but not be stained by all colors. He refrains from all things sexual or overtly romantic. He resists strong feelings that cause confusion, but welcomes strong feelings that focus him. He despises disorder, and follows strict doctrine that must always keep him steadfast, strong, and hollow. He meditates to attune himself to the Force, as he is of the Force - the only natural power to be revered - to become quality whereby the self is pushed out from the appetite and cleansed of physical impurity to idyllically transcend into the Force.

Aibhne can love as a belief in the tenets he follows, and therefore hate all that which those tenets oppose. But he cannot love or hate as an emotion or a base connection. As a doctrine, yes. As a selfish desire, no. So therefore he hates all that feeds the self, and all that feeds others' selves on his behalf. He cannot give to that concept, and therefore does not love other people or hate them; though does love and hate their qualities. E.g. Aibhne could have a partner in the faith, but would not satisfy their personal desires as they relate to fleshly carnalities. In this way he could have a spouse, though they would never indulge each other beyond serving the selfless and hollow creed. Procreation then can be a duty to swell the ranks of faithful, but not an intimacy shared between lust-filled mammals.

In short, the Sith seek freedom to do all for the self in Aibhne's eyes, while he seeks to deny the freedoms of the self. Through this reasoning, Aibhne seeks peace, knowledge, and serenity as a hollow being; a cup to let the Force flow into, the purest form of life: barren. So Aibhne therefore gains nothing, but is the Force as a vehicle of its influence.

_Secret misses of the soul. Foeman. words words words words words words words words words words wor words. _A stalwart Jedi Knight, Aibhne Tibbot thanklessly serves the galaxy towards the goal of peace and stability, whether advocated or not. With dozens of apprenticeship and knightly missions under his belt, he takes his journey down a more dangerous path against the evils of shadow and their agents of chaos. These are the villains of his extreme obsession - be they Sith or Jedi.

In particular, Aibhne seeks to gift others with comforts he himself refuses, both in hypocrisy and purity; sometimes fickle in his spiteful jealousy even as he grants opportunity, and other times is appreciative of certain pleasurable delights. He is in a constant state of denial, though would term it trial, yet incredibly willful and stubborn; emphatically willing to suffer those daily trials. He is judgmental and often times defensive, abrasive to overly forward attempts and yet longs for companionship over anything else; whose feelings are secretly indiscriminate of where that affection comes from.

The Phalanx This brotherhood is the brainchild of the apostolic Jedi Knight Aibhne Tibbot consisting of a trusted few within the Jedi Order, a secret society of consequentialists and crusaders who see a dire need for action. The esoteric oath: "Courage, our commitment. Fervor, our fidelity. Benediction, our bond. We are the shields to ruin. We are the Phalanx." ​

Each brother and sister of the creed, of whom are individually audited, is marked by a small tattoo that unifies them, three overlapping squares; each square a shield converging over the other as the protecting phalanx that safeguards the galaxy - from itself if necessary.

_]
_PERSONAL LOG.

Roleplay #1 - Account from memory.
Roleplay #2 - Account from memory.
Roleplay #3 - Account from memory.
Roleplay #4 - Account from memory.
Roleplay #5 - Account from memory.
Roleplay #6 - Account from memory.
Roleplay #7 - Account from memory.
Roleplay #8 - Account from memory.
Roleplay #9 - Account from memory.
Roleplay #10 - Account from memory.

_______________________________

 

[Rhys Whitley]

"Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody."
"Then is it not more prudent to love the darkness? For all its faults are wise in their warnings."​

CZERKA
- CONTRACTOR -


HUMAN _ 22 _ 185CM _ LEAN
BLACK-HAIR FAIR-SKIN BLUE-EYES
ARISTOCRATIC-ACCENT
TOMB-RAIDER _ BOOKIE-BY-DAY
SMUGGLER-BY-NIGHT
TRAINED FORCE SENSITIVE

Con-Men-Hate-Guns Captain-Obvious Boomerang-Bigot
Desperately-Craves-Affection Deadpan-Snarker
Implausible-Deniability Not-a-Morning-Person
Gentleman-Thief Know-Nothing-Know-It-All​

-CHILDHOOD-​

Born Rupert Elace Whitley on Gyosha to a superficially mediocre pair of Import-Export Clerks and domesticated Caribs - a civilized descendent of the Wendigo Cult, once Island Caribs of ancient cannibalistic faith. Modern day Caribs inherit two main philosophies: that man devours man and that the mind is an abyss of horrors to be feared. Rupert inherited this cynical faith through his harmless, albeit odd, parents but soon came to reject their meager eccentricity and moldy servile lifestyles, steadily glorifying elitist facades of fame and fortune increasingly into maturity. Adapting his lithe frame and angular features into an air of superiority poorly propped upon bland coquetry, Rupert later began introducing himself as Rhys after a short series comic character in the daily news feeds that hunted treasures as a modern day space pirate. One of the fictional Rhys Raider's ever elusive obsessions was a magical gauntlet that imbued the wearer with unbelievable powers over nature and the fabric of creation itself. Such written concepts were taken from some discarded lore of a fabled Gyoshan culture.

Gifted the Thorne-Heart Medallion at a young age, Rhys had grown accustomed to the necklace long before he could question its meaning or resent it along with the parents who gave it to him. This trinket was an invaluable relic and cherished family heirloom of the Carib faith. At the center, the heart; a ruby gem that represents the beauty of the soul, which is the mind. It is a staple to the bladed cross that stands for fury, the nature of beings to destroy both oneself and one-another. The inward thorns, imprisoning the gem and cross to know and fear the soul's evils. And the ring that is the flock who unify around the faith. To him, it was merely a shiny bauble, nothing more. If Rhys learned anything from his parents, his father's simple smile like a lukewarm snail and his mother's dismissive inclemency, and their humdrum business of otiosity it was that the impoverished suffer the reign of the affluent and that rules only apply to those who follow them.

To be honest meant to be a fool, or perhaps lazy. And to be content checking postages in closet space was to go insane. Mother and father embodied everything Rhys regarded as sheer stupidity and self-deprecation. He never accused them as such to their faces, or ever voiced anything of the sort to anyone however. Not out of respect or fear of repercussion. Rhys just didn't have the balls to say. Nor the friends to say to. But he thought it all the same. And by his cunning eyes, he hit the middle mark.

One day, fiddling with outdated machine parts and studying tax loopholes on the net weren't enough to hold his attention despite his parent's curious methods of tutoring their child and he decided to run away from home to see the world his parents feared and guarded him against. Only to get a glimpse. He accompanied his father on a delivery, as he sometimes did. But at a stop, when left alone in the rig, Rhys simply got out and walked into the wealth of a bustling promenade shopping center. A quiet boy, Rhys didn't ask for help when he eventually realized he'd become lost. After a wonderful day of exploration and eating candy, night fell and Rhys found shelter by a dumpster after avoiding the soggy thing that was already sleeping on the bench a block back. He awoke to a rank and shabby fellow huddled over him, frisking his pockets and stripping what few credits he had left; unbridled and unshaken by Rhys' flailing kicks and cries to get away. And once he had, he realized his medallion was gone. He returned to the wastrel, but the slime ran off. Rhys chased after him through the night, loosing him for hours before finding him again in a black market alley. Rhys begged him to give it back, but the beggar had already sold it and shoved the boy move aside. Left with nothing and afraid to sleep, Rhys walked the dark alleys until he happened upon a group of alien mercenaries after a night of drink and sport. Rhys couldn't muster a plea for help, only apprehensively clinging to one thug's pant leg until ridicule turned to provocation; knocking Rhys from his leg and to the ground as many times as Rhys lonesomely returned to his side, until one of them suggested leaving the boy with a waitress back at the bar.

A Twi'lek named Layla, the seventeen year old waitress assumed he was a misfortunate homeless orphan when Rhys was too shy and shaken to speak more than his made up name. She took him to live with her and two other girls in the cramped loft upstairs, who were all secretly slaves owned by the club manager Traxx. Rhys was eventually discovered and became Traxx's property in exchange for food and shelter, becoming fast friends with the girls and working the stockroom or mopping floors after hours despite several requests to be released - not understanding the finality of his decision to leave home. And even if he could escape, he couldn't muster the courage to return home without his parent's treasured legacy. Rhys asked Layla to help him with this, and with her connections she got a name; the vender's name who bought the medallion, Eleazar, known as Silver-Tooth Maven. Rhys planned to find out all he could, until Traxx was fired for dealing illegal narcotics; or rather for getting caught. So Traxx left Gyosha after posting bail, smuggling himself off world by bartering his slaves as payment. Layla, Rhys' first crush, was sold to some scumbag headed to the outer rim and Rhys was sold to the superstitious and paranoid captain Japoko Osoleve as an assistant and a guard dog to watch his stash of booze and powder; a stash that Japoko eventually used to turn Rhys into an addict.

The once diffident and pusillanimous Rhys grew to become a snarky smuggler's hand with an aristocratic inflection, able to pilot a ship and pick out the proper parts to fix a clicking engine long enough to make the hyperspace jump to the next system and start all over again. Japoko often marveled at Rhys' aptitude for picking up skills quickly despite his paltry image, but dismissed the anomaly and chalked up Rhys' ability as natural talent. Rhys never did fine tune his talents with the ladies however, spending more time with an assortment of cheap drunks and space-cases who whored it up at the copper tins in the oil slicked gutters of the galaxy than with proper gentry. Captain Japoko warmed to Rhys over time, mostly due to his at first quiet nature and consequent gifting of listening to endless and incoherent ramblings, and eventually taught Rhys to become wild and free in his own nerdy way; that all life is a trade, a give and take. Just don't ever let someone give you something out of charity, he'd threaten.

-JEDI TUTELAGE-​

This small-time band of revolving-door smugglers under Captain Japoko eventually became a thorn under foot for a Jedi operation along the Perlemian Trade Route, Japoko sometimes working with local known larcenists to procure valuable product worth moving. This among other sloppy mistakes became his downfall. A pair a Jedi Knights in a budding relationship, one Thelm Galerra and one Néve Anaaric, tasked themselves with ridding the galaxy of this scoundrel and payed off a small time thief to set up Captain Japoko in a plot to cleanly capture him and his crew on Taanab. The plan would've gone on without a hitch if not for Japoko being a paranoid kook who double-crossed the thief out of suspicion and nearly crashed his freighter in the slapdash getaway. The ship was shot down some hundred meters away and when boarded, Yapoko thought the Jedi were there to steal his secret stash of whiskies and snorting spice. In a mad dash to save the narcotics, Yapoko pulled Rhys into the refresher and forced him to help drink and snort as much as possible in their last moments. Japoko died of heart failure in Jedi Knight Thelm's arms as Rhys threw up on his boots. The rest of the crew was apprehended while Jedi Knight Néve, the more nurturing of the two, cared for Rhys until he passed out; to wake the next day in an infirmary bed. Néve pitied Rhys and convinced Thelm to take him in.

After nurturing Rhys back to good health and hearing his stories of Captain Yapoko, Néve speculated to Rhys' Force sensitivity. Thelm tested Rhys, teaching him to express a focused effect, and proved Néve's supposition founded. So Jedi Knights and lovers Thelm and Néve proclaimed Rhys to be their apprentice. Rhys stayed with his teachers and adoptive parents on the front lines and followed them on their missions as he was taught in the mystical ways of the Force, Captain Japoko's lessons of lawlessness tempered with Néve's credendas of compassion and Thelm's convictions of constitutionality. Rhys followed along for a time, putting on a front of obedience lending itself to his studious nature. But eventually Rhys saw the flaws of his birth parents hinted in his adoptive parents, forming secret opinions as he watched the two Jedi Knights battle the unruly and anarchical of the mid rim territories; the limits of their morals causing them stress on a daily basis. He valued their more devoted attention towards him however and enjoyed their more lively relationship, nights of laughing and warm meals together without the guilt of his medallion endearing him to their company far more than that of his stale birth parents; even as resentment intertwined with regret.

Rhys was not always with his Jedi family, however. Often he was left alone in their quarters while they pursued more dangerous missions, given lessons to complete paced between awkward lunches by himself among stern or preoccupied Jedi in the mess hall. It was here, in these times of solidarity, that Rhys was introduced to his inherent obsession of artifacts, ancient texts, and relics first hand. History articles and archives of lore filled his dreams with adventure and excitement of treasure hunting, like his childhood idol Rhys Raider. On a whim, and after years of investigating the black market vendor and criminal Silver-Tooth Maven, Rhys researched the trinket once worn around his neck. Which led to delving into the Caribs of his homeworld where he found a related mythos that predated the origin of the Carib's isles of Kalinago, detailing a lost temple in which some historians believed was in fact a dark Jedi's tomb. Legend tells of an artifact that once graced the wrist of this Shemhazal Anor'gethaáck that was so saturated by Shemhazal's power over the elements that all manner of stone and water and matter moves over its magnetically polarized surface like a constantly shifting and sifting landscape of its own gravity within a skin of sand. The relic and its master's story, with such a similar likeness to the concept of his childhood obsession, so intrigued Rhys that he pledged to one day discover its whereabouts. And eventually he did.

Nearing his knighthood, Rhys began taking on menial tasks of his own. One he acted as assistant to a full-fledged Jedi Knight leading a superfluous security detail guarding a General's six year old son on a ship full of Jedi, and another he was commissioned to accompany a transport of recruits and read them a prepared introductory syllabus. While Rhys was never the gladiator some of his peers seemed to be, these tasks bored his mind to mush. Until one day he chanced upon a yellow-tagged mission near his home planet of Gyosha. The assignment was basically to serve a subpoena to a mildly dangerous and alleged criminal, to gauge the man's reaction and report a field evaluation to determine if higher involvement was needed. There was warning that in serving the writ alone, a firefight could erupt. But this was far from Rhys' concern, as his mind began plotting a detour to the Kalinago Isles of Gyosha.

Rhys hastily signed up for the assignment only to discover that it was a two person commission and that a young Teinwan Ugishi would unfortunately accompany him. Awkward silence plagued their attempts at conversation until they reached their destination, the mission going wrong in every way imaginable. The criminal wasn't where the briefing said he would be. The citizens were unfairly untrusting and interfered with the mission. The criminal resisted. Their means of communication was broken in a chase. And the two had to flee when Rhys lost his lightsaber in a scuffle. Back in their ship in orbit, they finally reported the situation and handed over their duties to full-fledged Knights. The two of them were dispirited, until Rhys came clean to Teinwan about his desire to visit home; fibbing a tale of missing his parents and asking for just a moment to see them, genuine tears creeping up the corners of his eyes. Teinwan was swayed just as much by Rhys' opening up to him as he was by the sentiment and agreed. Once they arrived however, Rhys quickly spirited Teinwan off on an adventure to distant isles. Lies on top of lies, Rhys altered his intensions to include a wish that he might find a certain treasure for his parents that he lost, that they were ridiculed by their peers for believing even existed; a treasure that would heal old wounds from when he ran away, without which he could never return home. So Teinwan helped Rhys discover the tomb's location based off of Rhys' research as well as others before him, ultimately finding the hidden and fabled chamber of Shemhazal's treasure. But there was nothing there. Rhys looked around, took etchings and saved images until they found a note left in plain sight. It read in fluid cursive: "Know that you found victory where all others failed. And know that I have stolen that victory from you. I have the Dáksinya of Anor'gethaáck. -Abelard Solomon Carmichael"

-CORUSCANT COMMISSION-​

Returning home in disappointment, Rhys' soul was moved by the adventure in the tomb. His head hung low, thoughts swarming around missed hints and future leads, but his heart soared high with hopes of even greater exploits. In his secrecy of the Gyoshan islands detour, his Jedi parents saw only another failure under their apprentice's belt and feared for Rhys' morale and thus his future as a Jedi. One night, Rhys returned home to a small council of Thelm, Néve, and a revered Jedi General Viggo fresh off the front lines. They had gathered to discuss Rhys' future. The look of pain in Néve's eyes hurt most of all, though the General's words were deeply cutting; speaking to Rhys' lack of physical promise and inadequacies towards battle. It was decided that upon his Knighthood, Rhys would be sent away from the front lines to assignments that more suited his gifts. He would be separated from his parents and likely stuffed in a cramped archive to serve the Jedi legacy in lore and spiritual sorcery, returned to a life of insignificance and subservient mediocrity in a broom closet. So immediately after finding what excited him, Rhys was threatened with returning to the life of his birth parents. Nothing scared him more.

Rhys thought of running away again. He searched for ways to avoid his fate. He tried to demonstrate his ability with a lightsaber. Though his technique was sharp, his fencing style intelligent and elegant, he was no match for the more aggressive and muscular types. He tried to depict a cunning mind for strategy in the simulators, but failed miserably; unable to match the more simple and direct tactics with his own overly complex ideas. He could not escape who he was. Until one day, he found a mission briefing specializing in subterfuge; and undercover contract to Coruscant. Rhys brought it to his parents, who in turn brought it to General Viggo. If he had to be sent to the Corce, at least he could contribute to the cause more actively. General Viggo seemed unconvinced that Rhys was right for the job, but promised to take the proposition to his peers for consideration. One last supper with his Jedi parents, filled with laughter and sadness, and Thelm and Néve knew Rhys had already made up his mind. Silently they said their last goodbyes through cryptic clichés and avoiding adages, never wording what they all knew was being said. Even refusing to hug, for fear of acknowledging what was happening, he left them that night; never to return.

Without General Viggo's consent, Rhys took the commission to Coruscant as a personal charge to endeavor to great accomplishments to honor his Jedi parents' investments in him. He met with the contact Taavi who set him up with a new identity and pin number and checked him into a rundown motel. And his career as a lowlife entrepreneur began.

Isolated from the righteous tenets that reformed him, Rhys melded to his murky environment with unexpected ease and enjoyment. All that he had learned, from his birth parent's business to Japoko's criminal activities to the Jedi's missions, bred him to fit perfectly into the underworld; save for his innocent demeanor. Almost immediately he forgot what he was originally there to do and latched onto this new life of threading and sowing streams of interest and revenue, dealing at first in the only substance he could get his young hands on, drugs, and discovering a knack for gambling. Acquiring information to systematically eradicate criminal activity and feed the Jedi machine of justice quickly turned to self-indulgent networking of an ambitious mind. Finally, he'd found something he was really good at. Rhys plugged himself into various enterprises at low levels as a bookie for rookie races and back-alley dice games, a foot smuggler for side deals passing inexpensive and illegal modification goods from ship smugglers to vendors, and even flirting with the business of slavery and prostitution; believing he could provide these unfortunate products of society with a better life under his care, remembering his charming past with Layla. Here he was able to lead an exciting and unpredictable life where he could follow his heart. He even found an antiquities store full of literature on the lost and the unusual. With his sprouting network he followed rumors of likeminded vendors and stories that could lead him towards the names of his past: names like Eleazar the Silver-Tooth Maven, Traxx and Layla, Shemhazal and Abelard Solomon Carmichael, and many more.

In the more commercial section in the forefront of one of Rhys' favorite antiquities stores, he found a self-help daily devotional entitled The Pacific Journal. In it were famous quotes and anecdotal messages devoted towards the reader's daily pursuit of inner peace. The journal's gimmick was that each page was a piece of a larger puzzle that provided a map to a secret treasure. Rhys simply saw in it a perfect journal for his daily musings in all the empty comments sections. In it he solves the various puzzles and riddles to pass the time, while after his more illustrious excursions incites more colorful writings of his own accounting and notes key elements for clues towards further treasures. And when the day's subjects steer towards more philosophical concepts, or sometimes after meditation practices of which he continues in perennial Jedi fashion, he notates points of study and technique. One of his personal interests lies in imbuing ordinary objects with the Force. He studied incessantly towards this end. He also devotes much of his time to the relationship between chemistry and physics and the manipulation of matter through the Force.

As recorded in The Pacific Journal, Rhys juggled a busy life full of treasure hunting and tomb raiding while growing a multitude of fertile businesses. He loved every minute of it. And yet often times he felt in over his head. Most of the ventures floated along as ideas without any mooring. And when they went belly up, he cast them aside to start anew. In this cycle of ditch and profit, he often ruined people's lives who worked with him. One of Rhys' courtesans, a favorite of his named Gillie, asked him to help her husband Levi Hammond out of some debt before the collectors could come and maim him; or worse. Rhys agreed in his usual carefree way and thought up a quick scheme.

Rhys knew of a couple crooked cops who liked to bet on the street races. He didn't want to put himself on their radar except in a good light, so he instructed Levi in his stead. Rhys having run wagers on these races for some time now, knew of a racer's manager who liked to play dirty. So Rhys eluded to the manager that if he trusted his wager with Rhys that his return would be double, if his man could take the win; knowing this put the fire in his eyes, that he would make sure his man won. So later Rhys nestled himself up beside the two cops and listened to them discussing their top picks until inviting himself into their conversation, touting insight towards certain ends. And with the manager's credits in hand, Rhys flaunted the raving wager for the inevitable victor as his own despite all the odds. The two cops followed him over to Levi, whom pretended to accept Rhys' wager as the bookie. They weren't completely convinced but recognized Rhys and wondered if there was something to the wager. But as planned, Levi painted Rhys as some prepubescent lunatic who'd lost the last twenty times and had resorted to betting loans likely to his grave. Levi counseled towards his pick as a favor for the cops, pretending to fish for a mutually beneficial relationship as a bookie to buy their trust and security that they might look the other way as more races were fixed. So they laid wager towards Levi's choice, the worst possible pick. And they lost it all.

Rhys was all but convinced the two cops wouldn't risk their careers on a single bad wager and thought himself and Levi untouchable, his plan infallible. Instead two racers nearly died in crashes from illegal engine tampering, and Levi wasn't smart enough to run when he had the chance. The two cops cornered Levi and hauled him off into a back alley where they took all the credit chits in Levi's possession, beat him to a pulp, and arrested him on fraud and extortion charges as well as assaulting an officer and resisting arrest. Rhys lost Levi in the commotion and was cornered himself by the manager that'd made the deal. Gillie rushed to Rhys' side and was mistake for his woman, the manager's lackeys seizing her as collateral. In order to keep this life intact, Rhys had to pay the man back; he couldn't fight back. So Rhys was beaten and Gillie was in turn stolen as partial payment and insurance of return for all funds owed.

Eventually word spread, between Rhys' requests for information about Levi and Rhys' polluted reputation, and Levi's collectors came to Rhys for their return. They'd noticed how Rhys had started visiting Levi in prison almost daily and knew his face. Before Rhys could spin their heads with a Force filled flick of the wrist, they warned what might happen to Levi should Rhys not find a way to settle his debts; lest a prison bed suddenly develop a sharp edge under Levi's back. His guilty conscience culled thoughts of resistance. And should he flee, both were promised certain torturous deaths. But worst of all, his life he'd so come to love would be ruined. So he stayed to face the music. He turned all his ventures into equal payments that he might free those two he had sentenced to imprisonment. And he turned to more dubious avenues in hopes of securing larger gain. Namely Czerka Corp.

-VOICE SAMPLE-

-FILES ON RECORD-​

Entry 1: Roleplay Thread - Personal Account in Detail.
Entry 2: Roleplay Thread - Personal Account in Detail.
Entry 3: Roleplay Thread - Personal Account in Detail.
Entry 4: Roleplay Thread - Personal Account in Detail.
Entry 5: Roleplay Thread - Personal Account in Detail.
Entry 6: Roleplay Thread - Personal Account in Detail.
Entry 7: Roleplay Thread - Personal Account in Detail.
Entry 8: Roleplay Thread - Personal Account in Detail.
Entry 9: Roleplay Thread - Personal Account in Detail.

_____________________________________________​

 

[Lamper]

Rhys Tunes.

Still alotta work to be done with Rhys. But most of the framework's worked out. Just need to follow a story and see where the bio goes. I think I'll list some tropes up above the video just below the first quote. And maybe some stats too. Age/height etc...

 

[Lamper]

Assets and Estate​

"Hósios Sóma" - Aibhne Tibbot


_ This three-piece white Phrik armor set moderately embroidered in decorative gold design consists of the jerkin, forearm gauntlets, and shin greaves. The light-weight jerkin protects the vital organs, neck and upper shoulders, chest and upper back, abdomen, and groin. The abdomen and back is deceptively covered in two exposed black plates that give false impression of weakness, while instead additionally and selectively protecting against shrapnel, burns, and other effects of various combustibles on top of the phrik armor's indented design. Sacrificing greatest durability potential in bulk for superior nimble dexterity, the densely lean armor yet remains relatively perdurable against lightsaber glances, vibroswords and other metal weaponry, as well as providing some protection against combustibles for covered surfaces. Approximately two hits to the same location from resisted weapons will breach and expose the area. The gauntlets cover from elbow to wrist. The greaves cover from knee to ankle. Uncovered surfaces include head, biceps and triceps, inside forearms, hands, thighs, calves, and feet.

"Orgé and Ekdikëo" - Aibhne Tibbot

_ This white and gold lightsaber hilt pair with black grips was crafted for specific meaning and purpose. The lightsaber named Ekdikëo hung upon his right hip, used in his right hand or two hands, is vindication. It is justification of truth with every successful stroke of its wielder, and it is absolution of judgement which frees its victims of their sins. The smaller lightsaber named Orgë hung upon his left hip, used in his left hand, is wrath. It is brought out only in cases deserving of its extreme punishment and divination.

"Nameless Vibro-Shortsword" - Aibhne Tibbot

_ This 60cm blade-length short vibroblade, or wakizashi, serves secondary purposes. Strapped vertically to his back, along his spine within a simple black duraplast sheath, the hilt is accessible from behind his neck fastened by a single cross-strap unbuttoned by a flick of the thumb with the handle in palm.

"Blaster Pistol" - Aibhne Tibbot

A standard issue blaster pistol holstered at his outer right thigh.

"Assorted Explosives" - Aibhne Tibbot

_ These four types are on his person at all times, each discretely stashed in utility belt compartments. One portable, single thumb primer land mine capable of fatality or dismemberment depending on armor rathings - with five second ignition delay and sensor radius of approx. 76cm. One flash grenade capable of temporarily blinding a sentient being and disabling droids for a short period of time, also giving a mild impact. One impact grenade designed to explode on contact with a smaller blast radius than a thermal detonator capable of fatality to unarmored sentients and dismemberment to light armor ratings. And one sonic grenade capable of fatality or severe stunning depending on armor ratings.

"Locator Beacon" - Aibhne Tibbot

_ A personal SOS signal transmitter worn on the inside of his left wrist at all times with thumb and index finger primer. A simple compass is built into the shallow surface of the band resembling the face of a watch.

"The Gwenhwyvar" - Aibhne Tibbot

_ Light Freighter:

Length Hyperdrive Rating Armaments Escape Pods Crew Passengers Cargo Capacity Consumables

30.2m Class 3.0 Double Laster Cannon Concussion Missile Launchers Tractor Beam Projector 2 2 6 100 Metric Tons 1.5 Months

______________________________________________​

"Wilson" - Rhys Whitley

_ This seeker droid, codenamed Wilson for its red colored sensors' resemblance of a human face, is a .55cm spherical repulsor-lift binary assassin droid with antennae. An old beat up model with visible wear and tear, Wilson's regressing protocols have developed odd behavioral patterns that resemble a drunken Gamorrean which, in turn, have endeared Wilson to Rhys. Rhys wears a deceptive little ring on his right middle finger with a red gem, used to point a laser invisible to the naked eye at the desired target. The ring gem is twisted to command two basic designations, sedate or terminate, using stun or blaster bolts. It is also capable of electric shock via prong. If preprogrammed specifically for the task, Wilson can also fire specific dart variants. But Wilson's primary function is to entertain Rhys as a side-kick.

"Steampunk Skull Cane" - Rhys Whitley

_ This stylish cane is adorned with a chrome squid-skull head atop a simple black shaft with a steel-toed cap. He often uses it to deceptively portray himself as a cripple, and religiously imbues the accessory with the Force for fortitude against a multitude of weapons otherwise not expected to compete against - including but not limited to lightsabers.

"Green Krayt's Eye" - Rhys Whitley

_ This ring depicting an elongated krayt dragon framing a green jewel resembling an eye is one of his more noticeable rings worn on his left ring finger. It's true purpose is lethal. If Rhys flexes open his left hand, a tooth is unhitched from the underside band containing a single dose of lethal poison. So if inspected before releasing the tooth, the ring appears entirely aesthetic and harmless. And being worn on the left hand defuses any suspicion of conventional poisonous handshakes as business is concluded with a right handed shake. Rhys will shake with the right hand, but then affectionately grasp the victim's hand or wrist with the left hand to prick the skin with the unfettered tooth which immediately dispenses the poison.

"Gabbro & Gemel" - Rhys Whitley

_ This Gabbro & Gemel name brand satchel man-bag goes everywhere with him, strapped across his chest over shoulder and resting at his right hip. In it he stores many things ranging from office supplies and datapads to dug up antiquities on delivery to be sold for bits. A secret fold hidden in one of the inner linings hides contraband. To find it, a finger must hook under the zipper to unfold the flap and then hook under the base flap in the side of a divider. It cost him a pretty penny, so he treasures it carefully. Yet it is an essential for his travels, so he takes it with him even to the most hostile of environments.

"LCD Datapad" - Rhys Whitley

_ This LED-backlit touch-screen and HD datapad with holo-projection and face-time capability is his most used accessory, connecting with holo-feeds and message boards on the go. It's security system is fair for the average techie and is password protected, even just to unlock the screen.

"6 Co. Headphones" - Rhys Whitley

_ This accessory, a wireless headset, is a generic music listening device with mediocre sound cancelation capabilities purposefully worn to put minds at ease and encourage chatter otherwise kept secret. He only occasionally actually uses this device to listen to music.

.

 

[Arterius]

Compelling read and wonderful visuals (Also your choice of music is very nice, I've heard Evil Technology before) i think a meeting between Leah and Aibhne should definitely happen. Thank you for expressing an interest btw, im glad to know someone likes her :)

 

[Lamper]

It's a date @Arterius! :p And thanks! I'll find you on the field...lol