- Joined
- Jul 6, 2011
- Messages
- 74
- Reaction score
- 0
Composition and Appearance:
“Without the burden of size, one may easily befriend the shadows.”
He is not tall, nor is he short; not slender nor is he wide. He lies somewhere in the middle, being just tall enough to look into an opponent’s eyes without tilting his head, and built just sturdy enough for them to look back. He boasts broad shoulders, thick legs, and arms that are inches too long for the rest of his body. But he is not large. A long torso may perhaps provide the illusion of height, but his short and stout legs contradict such notions. Scars of burns are present on his stomach and arms, probably from blaster bolts or other firearms.
A mat of ebon hair is penetrated on the top of his forehead by horns that curl upward and inward towards his scalp, like a barrier protecting the middle and back of his head. His pale complexion is interrupted on his face by swoops of gray and black that curve out froim his nose, giving his face the illusion that it explodes from his head, rocketing forward into space. The tattoos carve out his somewhat abrupt features: narrow, cold eyes; a sharp, defined jawline and chin; and high forehead. His citrine eyes seem to absorb anything that they gaze upon, instantly appraising and analyzing anything that they see.
He dresses simply and effectively. A black shirt hangs off his shoulders, tight along the arms, and loose on his torso. Baggy black pants balloon when he walsk, even with the bottoms tucked haphazardly into worm combat boots. He often wears a hooded cloak which does an acceptable job of masking the finer details of his figure, as well as concealing his face from plain view. Rarely, however, does he cover his eyes.
Xedan carries at his belt a well-used vibrosword which he received as an heirloom from his older brother. He is competent with it, though he much prefers certain martial techniques to swordsmanship. On his waist, he also carries several smoke grenades (for emergencies), a few medpacks, and usually about 100 credits. Rarely does he have a need for any form of currency.
Personality:
“The unexpected is the deadliest weapon.”
Xedan rarely speaks idly, preferring to listen and observe; preferring to be acutely aware of the environment around him and in which he is involved. He thrives in situations in which he must manipulate others to achieve his goals. Though not a pacifist, he believes combat is an ineffective and wasteful form of conflict resolution, although he recognizes that there are times and places in which a problem may be aptly solved with a lightsaber.
Xedan has a longing for someone whom he can trust, if they can gain his. He yearns for someone to confide in, someone to comfort and be comforted by. He often feels extremely isolated and has not, in years, come across someone whom he was ever able to call, “friend.” However, such might be the plight of his existence. Every day, he comes closer to full acknowledgement that he may be forced to spend his days in emotional solitude. This acceptance often leads him to seem cold, unfriendly, even hostile. There are times when these may be accurate statements about his feelings, however, there are others when he simply forces himself to resist an personal and emotional investment in encounters with his peers.
Likes and Dislikes:
“Good, for the sake of good, is a complete falsehood in and of itself.”
Any self-righteous do-gooder with no personal agenda falls into Xedan’s category of, “waste of space.” There is no worse fallacy than the deception of self and others in saying that one performs good deeds only out of a sense of need to better the galaxy. Xedan respects people with a clear sense of goals and the personal drive to achieve them. He likes organization, bureaucracy, and anything in which he can easily blend into the background to further his own objectives.
Xedan is not one to spend hour upon hour training with a sword or a lightsaber. HE quickly grows bored or frustrated with the repetition and redundancy or the significant lack of focus which he can offer to such activities. He would much prefer to be applying himself to learn about others or the world around him. He quite enjoys interacting with people, for the rewards that it provides. He would much rather be tested mentally than physically.
As much as he enjoys human interaction, however, Xedan shudders at any physical contact. He sees handshaking as a way of submitting to being an equal. Though he is not necessarily arrogant, he will not acknowledge being on the same playing field as another person. That level of vulnerability puts him on edge. If at all possible, Xedan will remain isolated from a conversation – a spectator, rather than a participant.
Strengths and Weaknesses:
“Every weakness presents a strength; every strength, a weakness.”
There is perhaps a certain air about Xedan that makes him seem perplexing… Intriguing, even. Many people struggle to discern his true personality, his motives, and perhaps the true person behind an apparent façade of blankness. This is no accident: Xedan rarely lets his guard down. His emotions and feelings are carefully checked and censored. The world sees exactly what he wants them to see. His willpower is uncannily strong,. And he is resistant to some attempts to affect his thoughts and decisions, though he is yet untrained in such techniques. Because he has such honed self-awareness, he tends to have more success with unarmed combat techniques than with most weapons, however, any skill that he has comes only from a naturally-occurring talent, and no formal training of any kind.
Some say that when little is given, everything is offered is appreciated to a higher degree. Xedan’s reserved, calculated demeanor has shown that when he does offer his insight or opinions, it tends to be slightly more influential than the words of more outspoken individuals around him. Though he might not be a natural leader, he is usually effective at getting people to hear what he has to see, or even see things from his point of view. He is influential.
Xedan is not strong. Bluntly, he has very little strength to boast of. He will almost always avoid a fight if he can help it, preferring to leave combat to others, or to come to a more, “diplomatic solution.” One of his greatest fears is that he will be forced into a combat situation which he will not be able to escape. This places him at a significant disadvantage to others in the Empire. He tries not to let it affect him, but it does inhibit his ability to feel comfortable in many situations.
Biography:
“The child appears to be just fine,” a man stated, gazing with a smile at the small child cradled in his arms.
“Ooh, isn’t that nice…” a mother cooed, tickling the nose of a different child, a toddler, whom she cradled lovingly. The boy giggled, swatting her hand away playfully. She stared at his bright blue eyes, his dimpled smile, and smooth innocent face, paying no attention to the other baby.
The doctor, having nothing else important to say, cleared his trhat and announced, “You’re free to take him home whenever you wish.”
The mother snapped, “His father can take him.” As soon as he was called, a pale, solemn Zabrak stepped from the shadows and extended his arms to accept the child, in the same way that he had received a tray of slop for meals, day after day. His face and body were marked by a stoic acquiescence, completely void of any emotion, be it contest or praise. He left the room, and didn’t look back.
Xedan was raised as an afterthought. “Just watch what your brother does,” his mother would snarl. “At least he’s not clueless,” she would whine. It was like a constant barrage of slaps to Xedan, never-ending and relentless. Not that he minded – he often enjoyed being left to his own devices, being forgotten about. He grew to become friends with solace, and together, they began their long walk down a dark path…
In the first years of his life, his mother’s comments to him changed from, “Why can’t you be more like your brother?” to, “Your brother hasn’t been the same since you got here…” It was a gradual shift, as if many small changes contributed to the massive overhaul, completely changing a person. The two brothers were often found speaking alone, late at night, which was disturbing, but not nearly as disturbing as when they were found together and not talking. It was one such occasion that changed Xedan’s life, and his family’s, forever. When his mother walked in and found a blaster bolt in the elder one’s head, all she could do was scream.
A cloaked man entered their small, quaint house. Xedan followed behind. His mother sat in a tattered chair in the corner of the small room, staring at the wall. Her face was expressionless, and showed no recognition that anyone had walked in. The man had an aura of importance, as if everything he said was meant to be impactful and lifechanging. “Miss,” he began, “Is this your son?” He gestured to Xedan, behind him. Xedan’s mother gave a barely visible, subtle nod, but did not look at the pair, or even acknowledge that they were present. The man trudged on, “His midichlorian count is unusually high.” Still, nothing.
An awkward tension settled into the room, making itself at home, and expanding every second. The air became thick and heavy. After a moment, Xedan’s mother snapped her gaze to them, tilting her head, and hissed, “Take him away.”
And that was the end, and the beginning.
Kills:
-
Dueling Ring Matches:
-
Grand Tournament Matches:
-
Current Roleplays:
Imperial Mission: Korriban Zombies
Weakness Into Strength
[Main Thread] Skirmish at Yinchorr
[Closed] Let the Training Begin
[Training] Ways of the Force
[Training] The Way of the Sith
“Without the burden of size, one may easily befriend the shadows.”
He is not tall, nor is he short; not slender nor is he wide. He lies somewhere in the middle, being just tall enough to look into an opponent’s eyes without tilting his head, and built just sturdy enough for them to look back. He boasts broad shoulders, thick legs, and arms that are inches too long for the rest of his body. But he is not large. A long torso may perhaps provide the illusion of height, but his short and stout legs contradict such notions. Scars of burns are present on his stomach and arms, probably from blaster bolts or other firearms.
A mat of ebon hair is penetrated on the top of his forehead by horns that curl upward and inward towards his scalp, like a barrier protecting the middle and back of his head. His pale complexion is interrupted on his face by swoops of gray and black that curve out froim his nose, giving his face the illusion that it explodes from his head, rocketing forward into space. The tattoos carve out his somewhat abrupt features: narrow, cold eyes; a sharp, defined jawline and chin; and high forehead. His citrine eyes seem to absorb anything that they gaze upon, instantly appraising and analyzing anything that they see.
He dresses simply and effectively. A black shirt hangs off his shoulders, tight along the arms, and loose on his torso. Baggy black pants balloon when he walsk, even with the bottoms tucked haphazardly into worm combat boots. He often wears a hooded cloak which does an acceptable job of masking the finer details of his figure, as well as concealing his face from plain view. Rarely, however, does he cover his eyes.
Xedan carries at his belt a well-used vibrosword which he received as an heirloom from his older brother. He is competent with it, though he much prefers certain martial techniques to swordsmanship. On his waist, he also carries several smoke grenades (for emergencies), a few medpacks, and usually about 100 credits. Rarely does he have a need for any form of currency.
Personality:
“The unexpected is the deadliest weapon.”
Xedan rarely speaks idly, preferring to listen and observe; preferring to be acutely aware of the environment around him and in which he is involved. He thrives in situations in which he must manipulate others to achieve his goals. Though not a pacifist, he believes combat is an ineffective and wasteful form of conflict resolution, although he recognizes that there are times and places in which a problem may be aptly solved with a lightsaber.
Xedan has a longing for someone whom he can trust, if they can gain his. He yearns for someone to confide in, someone to comfort and be comforted by. He often feels extremely isolated and has not, in years, come across someone whom he was ever able to call, “friend.” However, such might be the plight of his existence. Every day, he comes closer to full acknowledgement that he may be forced to spend his days in emotional solitude. This acceptance often leads him to seem cold, unfriendly, even hostile. There are times when these may be accurate statements about his feelings, however, there are others when he simply forces himself to resist an personal and emotional investment in encounters with his peers.
Likes and Dislikes:
“Good, for the sake of good, is a complete falsehood in and of itself.”
Any self-righteous do-gooder with no personal agenda falls into Xedan’s category of, “waste of space.” There is no worse fallacy than the deception of self and others in saying that one performs good deeds only out of a sense of need to better the galaxy. Xedan respects people with a clear sense of goals and the personal drive to achieve them. He likes organization, bureaucracy, and anything in which he can easily blend into the background to further his own objectives.
Xedan is not one to spend hour upon hour training with a sword or a lightsaber. HE quickly grows bored or frustrated with the repetition and redundancy or the significant lack of focus which he can offer to such activities. He would much prefer to be applying himself to learn about others or the world around him. He quite enjoys interacting with people, for the rewards that it provides. He would much rather be tested mentally than physically.
As much as he enjoys human interaction, however, Xedan shudders at any physical contact. He sees handshaking as a way of submitting to being an equal. Though he is not necessarily arrogant, he will not acknowledge being on the same playing field as another person. That level of vulnerability puts him on edge. If at all possible, Xedan will remain isolated from a conversation – a spectator, rather than a participant.
Strengths and Weaknesses:
“Every weakness presents a strength; every strength, a weakness.”
There is perhaps a certain air about Xedan that makes him seem perplexing… Intriguing, even. Many people struggle to discern his true personality, his motives, and perhaps the true person behind an apparent façade of blankness. This is no accident: Xedan rarely lets his guard down. His emotions and feelings are carefully checked and censored. The world sees exactly what he wants them to see. His willpower is uncannily strong,. And he is resistant to some attempts to affect his thoughts and decisions, though he is yet untrained in such techniques. Because he has such honed self-awareness, he tends to have more success with unarmed combat techniques than with most weapons, however, any skill that he has comes only from a naturally-occurring talent, and no formal training of any kind.
Some say that when little is given, everything is offered is appreciated to a higher degree. Xedan’s reserved, calculated demeanor has shown that when he does offer his insight or opinions, it tends to be slightly more influential than the words of more outspoken individuals around him. Though he might not be a natural leader, he is usually effective at getting people to hear what he has to see, or even see things from his point of view. He is influential.
Xedan is not strong. Bluntly, he has very little strength to boast of. He will almost always avoid a fight if he can help it, preferring to leave combat to others, or to come to a more, “diplomatic solution.” One of his greatest fears is that he will be forced into a combat situation which he will not be able to escape. This places him at a significant disadvantage to others in the Empire. He tries not to let it affect him, but it does inhibit his ability to feel comfortable in many situations.
Biography:
“The child appears to be just fine,” a man stated, gazing with a smile at the small child cradled in his arms.
“Ooh, isn’t that nice…” a mother cooed, tickling the nose of a different child, a toddler, whom she cradled lovingly. The boy giggled, swatting her hand away playfully. She stared at his bright blue eyes, his dimpled smile, and smooth innocent face, paying no attention to the other baby.
The doctor, having nothing else important to say, cleared his trhat and announced, “You’re free to take him home whenever you wish.”
The mother snapped, “His father can take him.” As soon as he was called, a pale, solemn Zabrak stepped from the shadows and extended his arms to accept the child, in the same way that he had received a tray of slop for meals, day after day. His face and body were marked by a stoic acquiescence, completely void of any emotion, be it contest or praise. He left the room, and didn’t look back.
Xedan was raised as an afterthought. “Just watch what your brother does,” his mother would snarl. “At least he’s not clueless,” she would whine. It was like a constant barrage of slaps to Xedan, never-ending and relentless. Not that he minded – he often enjoyed being left to his own devices, being forgotten about. He grew to become friends with solace, and together, they began their long walk down a dark path…
In the first years of his life, his mother’s comments to him changed from, “Why can’t you be more like your brother?” to, “Your brother hasn’t been the same since you got here…” It was a gradual shift, as if many small changes contributed to the massive overhaul, completely changing a person. The two brothers were often found speaking alone, late at night, which was disturbing, but not nearly as disturbing as when they were found together and not talking. It was one such occasion that changed Xedan’s life, and his family’s, forever. When his mother walked in and found a blaster bolt in the elder one’s head, all she could do was scream.
A cloaked man entered their small, quaint house. Xedan followed behind. His mother sat in a tattered chair in the corner of the small room, staring at the wall. Her face was expressionless, and showed no recognition that anyone had walked in. The man had an aura of importance, as if everything he said was meant to be impactful and lifechanging. “Miss,” he began, “Is this your son?” He gestured to Xedan, behind him. Xedan’s mother gave a barely visible, subtle nod, but did not look at the pair, or even acknowledge that they were present. The man trudged on, “His midichlorian count is unusually high.” Still, nothing.
An awkward tension settled into the room, making itself at home, and expanding every second. The air became thick and heavy. After a moment, Xedan’s mother snapped her gaze to them, tilting her head, and hissed, “Take him away.”
And that was the end, and the beginning.
Kills:
-
Dueling Ring Matches:
-
Grand Tournament Matches:
-
Current Roleplays:
Imperial Mission: Korriban Zombies
Weakness Into Strength
[Main Thread] Skirmish at Yinchorr
[Closed] Let the Training Begin
[Training] Ways of the Force
[Training] The Way of the Sith
* = No skill yet, but he's working on it.
** = He's scratched the surface, and is beginning to unlock this power.
*** = He can perform this power with low-effectiveness.
**** = Xedan is good at this power, and could use it with little effort.
***** = Mastered.
Force Sight ***
Telekinesis **
Mind Control *
Memory Walk *
Force Whisper **
** = He's scratched the surface, and is beginning to unlock this power.
*** = He can perform this power with low-effectiveness.
**** = Xedan is good at this power, and could use it with little effort.
***** = Mastered.
Force Sight ***
Telekinesis **
Mind Control *
Memory Walk *
Force Whisper **
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