Yautja
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Nov 12, 2011
- Messages
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NAME: Numerous irate individuals and governments have tried extracting a name from this careless bounty hunter. He often replies with the suggestion that they blow "it" out of various orifices, though what "it" is isn't quite certain. Sometimes he replies with the names of other famous Arkanians, but when he's in control, he often refers to himself as "Rancor", though he spells it "Rankor". Many have informed him of this rather notable spelling error, but he seems not to notice, or remember.
FACTION: "I fly solo, muffin top!" is what one flustered Twi'lik receptionist informed us he said. She however left when he started suggesting a number of crude exercise ideas, involving a lack of clothing, "and a ride on his big vibro-hammer."
RANK: A brutalized target, while in intensive care, said that 'Rankor' declared himself "High Chief Emperor Ballstomper", before showing him precisely what that meant.
SPECIES: From what we've been able to gather, he's an Arkanian Offshoot with heavy cybernetic modification to top it off.
AGE: Most likely in his twenties, maybe early thirties.
GENDER: "All man, baby", again the source being the Twi'lik.
HEIGHT: Various sources all agree that he's six feet and a half, maybe six foot seven at the most.
WEIGHT: Naturally probably about 220 pounds, but with the number of cybernetic enhancements, "Rankor" is judged to probably be around the three hundred mark.
EYES: Glowing red(Think like the Terminator, or Kano)
HAIR: While originally white, Rankor has mostly kept it black, and in dreadlocks.
SKIN: Rankor has a healthy tan.
CREDITS: 1,000
DISTINGUISHING MARKS:
Let's run down the list!
- Dreadlocks going down to his shoulders, often with other locks of hair, or feathers, or little 'trophies' woven in with said dreads.
- Glowing red eyes
- His entire right arm is metal and robotic looking, though it looks heavy duty enough to withstand a heavy assault. Still, there was no reason he couldn't have gotten it covered up, unless he purposely wanted it exposed for some, stupid reason.
- Various tattoos
FORCE SENSITIVE: "Sensitive? You callin' me a sissy?!" We're guessing he isn't. If he was naturally, the sheer amount of cybernetics has no doubt dulled or killed what little there may have been to begin with.
STRENGTH: It was a smokey, dusky den Rankor was in, some rathole Poodoo-fest that the scumbags of the galaxy tended to congregate in. The Arkanian cyborg didn't remember the name of this planet, but did it really matter? All that mattered were the Credits on the table, and the big, ugly, smelly lookin' Wookie right across from him. This sucker was big, bigger than most of his kin, and that big Robo-arm o'his finally looked to have met its match. The den smelled like a mixture of things, sweat and testosterone, mixing with gunpowder and the smoking burning scent that could only come from a recently discharged blaster pistol. These things combined with that musky, overpowering overbearing odor of fornication. All this swirled around in its own special way to put a big ol' smile on Rankor's face, it was here where the big man was most at ease. This was home! he licked his lips, sweat pouring down his nose as he grinned wolfishly at his furry opponent.
"Got dang, Furface, don't know what's worse...the power in yer arms, or that stank that waves off ya! Hope ya bathe in something more than yer mama's drool!" He saw a flash of anger hit the old Wookie's face, and knew in a moment he'd be surging all his power into one final push. But for a fraction of a nanosecond, Rankor felt his grip weaken slightly, preparing for that last hurrah.
But it never came. Rankor matched his own strength, combining his own weight with the unnatural power of that robo-arm, smacking the back of his hand rough against that table. The previously silent hole in the wall came alive in cheers and laughter, and Rankor rolled his neck before reaching in his vest for another cigar.
"A deal's a deal, shaggy, now pay up!"
10/10 in the rest of his body, due to his natural heartiness and the various cybernetic implants that reinforce his skeleton and cause him to naturally lift more while exerting less effort than the average man, but his right arm is more like 17/10. It's freakishly strong.
DEXTERITY: 4/10 all around. Rankor's reflexes really leave something to be desired, but he can kind of catch a ball with both hands, if you throw when he's ready.
Most of the time he can catch it, anyway.
CONSTITUTION: 10/10, the man is very durable, and even if you do manage to damage him, there's a good chance that it can be repaired anyway, so it really isn't the end of the world. And considering his style, it's very good that he can take nearly anything you throw at him, because...
INTELLIGENCE: 3/10 Rankor is pretty much a moron. Any technological expertise he has is due to training, and not any innate gift. As it is, he barely speaks Basic Standard.
WISDOM: 5/10 Rankor I wouldn't describe as "wise", but he goes with his gut, and sometimes that leads him to doing exactly the right thing. Sometimes, however...
"Awww, little girl, lost yer momma and dadda? Think they'll have lots of Credits to extort when I get you to them? Hey, let's go down this alley you came from and find them, that's a very pretty teddybear with a blinking beeping nose you gave me, hey where are you running to..."
CHARISMA: Hell if I know. He's not very nice, his sense of humor is sexist, ultra-violent and sociopathic, and he's the kind of guy respectable shop-keepers would rather shoot than allow on the premises.
However, when he's pissed, or determined to extract information, he is very, very good at it. So...I don't know. 1/10 for fame, 8/10 for infamy.
FORCE POWERS:
"What am I, some kinda flippin' magic pansy or somethin'? Get outta my face!"
SKILLS:
Describe the skills that your character possesses.
Marksmanship: Ha ha ha, barely. He uses mainly fully automatics and 'spreadblast' weapons for a reason.
Brawling: Don't mess with Rankor, he will personally mess you up.
Interrogation: Rankor -WILL- find out where his target is, and staying quiet just makes it worse for you...
Piloting: Honestly, he's more suited for small, personal ships, most familiar with his own, of course.
Gambling: He's best when he cheats.
LIGHTSABER/SWORD FORMS:
"The Rankor Style", which is really just swinging the sword until the other guy dies or your blade breaks. He's better with knives.
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES:
Well, Rankor has superhuman strength, and a rather frightening running speed(He could keep up with Usein Bolt if they held Space Olympics, though he wouldn't win that race.), but he doesn't often use that speed because his reactions are so pisspoor. If he ran that fast, and his quarry turned a sudden corner, best believe he'd zip right by them before being able to stop himself and turn around. He's difficult to damage, and over a period of time could probably break through a brick wall using only headbutts, with only minimal damage to his skull and neck, nothing that couldn't be repaired later. Of course the disadvantage is that he's got a body full of technology. He can't be TOO careless, and often needs minor tweaking at the local medic's lab or repair shop.
Also, his own personality is considered a weakness. He's a jerk, and it's not uncommon for him to lead himself into an ambush through his carelessness, or others simply having enough of his malarky.
Also, his eyes can see in infared, and also comes with night vision mode. His 'tracking' mode appears to be no better than a human's, in fact, and in fact something 'too' fast might not even show up, until it stops, or hits him.
GEAR:
Describe the items that your characters carries with them.
ARMOR: This cannot be described in a neat and precise manner like some pieces of protection, rather a collection of different pieces, mismatched and sewn, welded and stretched to fit with each other. He wears a pair of raggedy pants, multicolored but predominantly woodland camo on the left with pieces of black and brown leather on the right, capped off with a rather predominant codpiece worn outside his pants, and fastened with the large, studded belt keeping the light armored trousers in place. Up top, that studded belt contains many pouches, and places for bullets, cartridges and the like. A collection of leather straps and harnesses adorn his otherwise upper torso, over which he wears a black sleeveless leather vest, unbuttoned, with a dull green shoulder pauldron for the left arm. A bit of old chainmail covers his left bicep, leaving a bit above the elbow, and down to the wrist, completely bare. On his left hand he wears a fingerless leather glove, perfect for gripping the handle of a gun. Of course, his entire right arm is bare, in all it's metallic, cyborg glory. The harness itself usually holds a holster for a gun, and a big ol' vibroknife. Same goes for the belt around his waist.
MAIN WEAPONS:
Vibro-Knife
2 ACP repeater guns, painted dark green with black tiger stripes. Fitted with laser sights.
The Wampa Hunter: A huge, huge revolver, it looks absolutely ugly and barebones, it actually only has three spaces for bullets. True to its namesake it was made for hunting Wampas, and even a full grown Wookie, trained in gun use, has to fire it using two hands, and standing properly due to the kickback. Rankor can fire it once with his cyborg arm, but any more than that would cause damage, so he uses it sparingly. As can be imagined, though a bit inaccurate, it's impact deadly, and can shred right through a Hummer. Rankor needs to physically and manually make the ammunition for it.
At the time of this writing, he's got one Thermal Detonator left, 20 frag grenades, and a ragtag, makeshift "grenade launcher" that's currently falling apart. Maybe after the third use, I imagine it'll rot apart rather quick.
SHIP: "The Scrapheap", a Junk Hauler with a Hyper Drive Engine. He took out the crushing mechanisms, and essentially installed drawers and racks and space for his guns, as well as holding cells for bounties that he has to take alive.
Stored in the Scrapheap is a modified FC-20 speeder bike. It's a bit slower, but more stable, and most of the sound muffled. This is the closest Rankor gets to "stealthy".
DROIDS/PETS: "Stabby", a modified IT-O, most notably the size is far smaller than most of its kind, easily fitting in a regular human's palm, maybe being the size of a baseball. It's lost its ability to fly, instead having little raptor robo-legs, with which it can cling to walls and people. True to its name, it has a modified vibro-shiv protruding from the top of its "head". It usually makes adorable chirping noises before slitting an intruder's ankle.
PERSONALITY:
Rankor is a tough, no-nonsense customer, a rude crude dude who's more likely to uppercut a Krayt Dragon than run from it. (He'd still run after uppercutting it.) Rankor isn't really a deep thinker, and isn't really meant for society. True, bounty hunters are usually those that live on the fringe. They're the a-typical sorts, the individuals that just couldn't fit in amongst their peers(excluding Trandoshans), and Rankor really exemplifies that. He's far unlike most any other Arkanian around, both in build and attitude. Certainly he doesn't possess the intellect and creative ingenuity that gives his race their fame. To him, the best way from point A to point B is a straight line, and if you have to ram and smash through the barriers along the way, that's just fine by him. He's quick with an insult or snappy one-liner, but usually not any kind of meaningful statement. He ain't one for speeches, actions mean a lot more to him.
Such a brutish, macho exterior, what lays inside? Good question.
BIOGRAPHY:
-Excerpt from a Human history book, proving that there's always an oddball in the crowd.
The man who calls himself "Rankor" with a K has always been very tight-lipped about his past, his childhood, the things that make him "tick". It seems to be one of the few "sore spots" with him, but a few things have to be a given, what with his species. We know he's an Arkanian Offshoot, practically a slave-race to work the mines and other forms of "dirty work". Growing up must have been difficult, and with Rankor's behavior and general attitude, speculations have been made that he experienced or saw something horrible as a boy, something that forced him to grow up quick, and growing up meant growing tough, hard around the edges. At some point he left the planet of Arkania, whether he escaped or was driven out for some reason, remains to be seen. (But most likely he escaped somehow.)
His record as a Bounty Hunter has been more concrete, but short, and rather...colorful. His first case was actually more of a suicide mission, to locate a man who stole from the Hutts, a man who fled into Wild Space. Expecting him gone for good, the as of yet unnamed bounty hunter was sent to hunt for the man. That adventure would take him to a ravaged, devastated planet, an erroded and wartorn globe of misery, forever ruined by Nuclear Holocaust countless years ago. The left over remnants, a ragtag group of mutated near-human slaughter-happy cannibals, did their damndest to ensure that the new Hunter on the job didn't leave with his life or skull intact! But leave he did, and left with the merchandise the Hutt wanted back, with the handcuffed hand of the long deceased thief attached, thus ensuring proof of his death, and leaving the Hunter(who now named himself 'Rankor') with a nice bonus of...15 Credits!
Since then, Rankor's been on various piss-poor missions, using far more firepower than needed to track down deadbeat dads and the galactic equivalent of jaywalkers, many of which now turn themselves in quietly and without struggle, much to Rankor's chagrin and dismay. But he's eager to get in on the REAL action, to get the big money by taking the big risks, something to really put his name out there as the top dog...Which brings us to the present.
KILLS:
Zero
BOUNTIES COLLECTED:
Umm...do I count bounties that happened in my history?
DUELING RING MATCHES:
Nope.
GRAND TOURNAMENT MATCHES:
Nope.
ROLE-PLAYS:
To hunt a Firecrotch...
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