NAME: Calux
FACTION: Independent
RANK: N.A
SPECIES: Zeltron (Halfbreed)(https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Zeltron/Legends)
AGE: 19
GENDER: Male (Genderfluid.)
HEIGHT: 5'4
WEIGHT: 110lbs (Slightly Underweight, esp. considering his muscles)
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes, Untrained.
APPEARANCE:
Slender and long-limbed with an almost feminine physique, Calux comes across as delicate at first glance, especially with his long crimson hair which is usually styled artfully into complex hairstyles and adorned with beads and bands. Long eyelashes frame large red eyes which match the vibrancy of his hair in shade, and full lips rest below a broad nose. He often sports golden jewellery, and has numerous piercings. He’s usually found with a slight smile, and his body language is open and his movements fluid. Shorter than most, Calux is nevertheless difficult to overlook, especially thanks to his species natural pheromones.
But a more detailed look at Calux, especially if you aren’t breathing in the pheromones which make him seem so unthreatening, and you might realise that those long limbs are corded with muscle, that the slight smile is more of a sneer. That the fluidity of his movements is born of a dancer’s grace, but also a fighter’s training. But perhaps another tip off is his clothing. Generally Calux likes to cover as much skin as possible, and prefers to dress in monochrome with pops of colour. He keeps his clothing tight and figure-hugging - mostly for idiots who get distracted, but also for ease of fighting - with his height and weight, he’ll never be a powerhouse. So he has to be clever and fast instead. If someone grabs him, it tends to be game over unless he can wriggle free - so he has to make sure he never gets caught.
ATTRIBUTES:
Strengths include Dex, Wis and Cha - Years of training have honed both his mind and his body into a weapon, the force lends him wisdom as well as a good
helping of street smarts, and with his species' abilities, Charisma is natural to him, with a honeyed tongue and pretty face, accentuated by the makeup he loves to practice.
His Int is average to below average - he's plenty street smart, but book learning is Not his thing, and his limited experience with the world means he's lacking in experience and knowledge.
Weaknesses include Str and Con - Lack of food as a child and scarcity in his growing years mean he's short, and prone to illness more than he should be. Whilst his frame is muscled, that's limited by his height, and his slender build.
PERSONALITY:
Calux would like you to believe he’s a delicate flower, who probably got this far on his pretty face. And if you don’t know him, you might believe it - he does have a very pretty face. But talk to Calux for any length of time, and you’d realise you’d been fooled. Behind that pretty face is an intellect (and tongue) as sharp as any blade, and a will that’s stronger than any steel. Calux is determined that he won’t be powerless ever again, and he doesn’t care what he sacrifices to get there. (He says power, because power is safety. If he's strong, he doesn't have to be /afraid/ anymore.)
He’s also carefully cruel. Not for him the throwaway remark, no. If he doesn’t like you - and he probably doesn’t - he will find the insult that will hurt you most. Calux doesn’t like many people, and he trusts almost nobody. It isn’t that he dislikes people, he just dislikes stupidity. And in his own views, it’s a darn shame that so many people are so irredeemably dumb. Not that he’d ever voice that, of course.
Because Calux is all too aware that whilst appearing weak is sometimes a position of strength, he is also, well, weak. Better to run and live another day, after all, better to sneak and lie and cry if you’re alive at the end of it, and -- he's done many things over the years, to survive. What's a few more?
But is that Calux, really? Those are his bad points, to be sure, but. He risks himself for others. He tries - as much as he can - to help people. He doesn't stay, not long term, a wanderlust in his feet and something in his heart saying - not yet. Not yet. But at his heart Cal is a soft touch who above all desires to trust someone. He can't, he knows he can't! But yet, there's a little voice saying: soon. Not yet, but soon.
BIOGRAPHY:
SKILLS:
No Knowledge/Acceptance of the Force - it happens and it aids him, but he puts it down to his species abilities, or just 'good luck'.
Basic rudimentary knowledge of Medical - first aid, basically.
Basic knowledge of Marksmanship - he's a good shot, but he knows little past aim and fire.
Good knowledge of Stealth - he's uncannily good at sneaking and getting around unnoticed.
Good knowledge of Parkour - fun and functional!
Very Good knowledge of hand to hand combat and knife/vibro-blade fighting.
Very Good knowledge of cosmetics, bodycare, nutrition, fashion - he knows his stuff about how to look good, including sewing and tailoring.
Very Good knowledge of dancing, singing and a few select musical instruments.
Languages - Common, Huttese
GEAR:
Array of Vibroblades (https://www.thestarwarsrp.com/index.php?threads/vibroblade.92259/) - twin ~fancy~ daggers, plus a bunch of smaller ones secreted around his person.
BLURGG-1120 (https://www.thestarwarsrp.com/index.php?threads/blurrg-1120-blaster-pistol.93952/) - plus a few backup power cells.
Blast Vest (https://www.thestarwarsrp.com/index.php?threads/blast-vest.92290/) - heavily customised and disguised with fabric, but it is what it is.
Lute, Flute and Violin.
ROLE-PLAYS:
FACTION: Independent
RANK: N.A
SPECIES: Zeltron (Halfbreed)(https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Zeltron/Legends)
AGE: 19
GENDER: Male (Genderfluid.)
HEIGHT: 5'4
WEIGHT: 110lbs (Slightly Underweight, esp. considering his muscles)
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes, Untrained.
APPEARANCE:
Slender and long-limbed with an almost feminine physique, Calux comes across as delicate at first glance, especially with his long crimson hair which is usually styled artfully into complex hairstyles and adorned with beads and bands. Long eyelashes frame large red eyes which match the vibrancy of his hair in shade, and full lips rest below a broad nose. He often sports golden jewellery, and has numerous piercings. He’s usually found with a slight smile, and his body language is open and his movements fluid. Shorter than most, Calux is nevertheless difficult to overlook, especially thanks to his species natural pheromones.
But a more detailed look at Calux, especially if you aren’t breathing in the pheromones which make him seem so unthreatening, and you might realise that those long limbs are corded with muscle, that the slight smile is more of a sneer. That the fluidity of his movements is born of a dancer’s grace, but also a fighter’s training. But perhaps another tip off is his clothing. Generally Calux likes to cover as much skin as possible, and prefers to dress in monochrome with pops of colour. He keeps his clothing tight and figure-hugging - mostly for idiots who get distracted, but also for ease of fighting - with his height and weight, he’ll never be a powerhouse. So he has to be clever and fast instead. If someone grabs him, it tends to be game over unless he can wriggle free - so he has to make sure he never gets caught.
ATTRIBUTES:
Strengths include Dex, Wis and Cha - Years of training have honed both his mind and his body into a weapon, the force lends him wisdom as well as a good
helping of street smarts, and with his species' abilities, Charisma is natural to him, with a honeyed tongue and pretty face, accentuated by the makeup he loves to practice.
His Int is average to below average - he's plenty street smart, but book learning is Not his thing, and his limited experience with the world means he's lacking in experience and knowledge.
Weaknesses include Str and Con - Lack of food as a child and scarcity in his growing years mean he's short, and prone to illness more than he should be. Whilst his frame is muscled, that's limited by his height, and his slender build.
PERSONALITY:
Calux would like you to believe he’s a delicate flower, who probably got this far on his pretty face. And if you don’t know him, you might believe it - he does have a very pretty face. But talk to Calux for any length of time, and you’d realise you’d been fooled. Behind that pretty face is an intellect (and tongue) as sharp as any blade, and a will that’s stronger than any steel. Calux is determined that he won’t be powerless ever again, and he doesn’t care what he sacrifices to get there. (He says power, because power is safety. If he's strong, he doesn't have to be /afraid/ anymore.)
He’s also carefully cruel. Not for him the throwaway remark, no. If he doesn’t like you - and he probably doesn’t - he will find the insult that will hurt you most. Calux doesn’t like many people, and he trusts almost nobody. It isn’t that he dislikes people, he just dislikes stupidity. And in his own views, it’s a darn shame that so many people are so irredeemably dumb. Not that he’d ever voice that, of course.
Because Calux is all too aware that whilst appearing weak is sometimes a position of strength, he is also, well, weak. Better to run and live another day, after all, better to sneak and lie and cry if you’re alive at the end of it, and -- he's done many things over the years, to survive. What's a few more?
But is that Calux, really? Those are his bad points, to be sure, but. He risks himself for others. He tries - as much as he can - to help people. He doesn't stay, not long term, a wanderlust in his feet and something in his heart saying - not yet. Not yet. But at his heart Cal is a soft touch who above all desires to trust someone. He can't, he knows he can't! But yet, there's a little voice saying: soon. Not yet, but soon.
BIOGRAPHY:
If you ask different people, you’ll get different answers about when the problems with Calux started.
If you ask his mother, it will be the moment he came squalling his way into the world with his father’s black rimmed eyes.
If you ask his mother’s pimp, it’ll be the moment she caught the attention of a powerful psychopath who had enough money to pay him for a long term contract.
If you ask Cal, it came the day that he got blamed for a murder he didn’t commit.
The truth perhaps, is somewhere in-between.
Cal’s first few years were fraught with tension - the babe resembled his mother, but also his father, and whilst his mother tended to his needs, she hated him, and he was part-Zeltron, an empath, and could sense it. Despite this, the other women loved him. He was tiny, adorable, and he smelled like baby! Which was weird, considering many of the women were different species, and had different senses of what smelled like baby but then, Yos (his mother) had kept quiet about the exact specifics of her species.
What gave her the edge was none of their business, after all. And if they all wanted to look after the brat because the little bastard was clever enough to manipulate his pheromones, all the better.
So for three relatively peaceful years, in between police raids and druggies and bad johns, Calux grows from baby to toddler. To his mother, he grows old enough to sell. She struggles now, with the scars from his father, to get enough work. Selling a child - especially a child as precocious and - she notes with a scowl - pretty - as Calux to a slaver….she could get enough money to retire.
The issue was how to do it without getting caught.
God knows the other sluts were too attached to the goddamn kid.
But this is not Yos’s story, so we don’t need to detail the ways and means she employed to get the attention of a slaver. We don’t even need to detail the way it went wrong, how everyone ended up dead or enslaved on the whole station.
What we need to know is this ; Cal is taken on and taken an interest in by a male Twilek named Marcen. He recognises the raw potential in a half-Zeltron who at this age is already sneaky and skilled enough to evade capture by his teams for a solid half hour by blasting them with pheromones and then legging it through places too tiny for them to go.
Marcen is the head of the operation - not the whole head, of course, no, that leads back to a Hutt somewhere - but he is senior enough he can claim a child as a personal slave and have nobody bat an eyelash.
At least nobody who wants to stay alive.
For Calux, these are the golden years.
He has vague memories of before, of the station and a beacon of hatred, of desperately trying to avoid that. But most of his childhood is spent under Marcel, learning. Learning, absorbing and training.
By the time Calux is five, he is sneaky. The other slaves - mostly female - no longer see him as a child, but as a rival. Oh some of them are nice to him, especially those he can mimic pheromones of, but the majority are jealous of Marcel’s attention. Marcel has no interest in bodies, after all. Being his personal slave is a safety net they all want. They can’t harm him overtly - Marcel would kill them - but there a multitude of ways they can make Cal’s life difficult. But for every time they do, for every time they spoil his work, they pull his hair, they ruin his clothes….he steals their stuff, he wrecks their cleaning, he misplaced paperwork for them...the list goes on.
By eight, a fighter. The other slaves are older, bigger, stronger who Marcel has him train with. So Calux learns to be fast, to dodge, to throw accurately, to cry on command and look pathetic so that others will pity him and believe that they started it. Marcel is thrilled.
By the time he is ten, Calux is a manipulator and a schemer. He runs long cons on other slaves, sets up traps. He’s figured out that money will motivate others, that fear does, that if you sob and cry that someone stole your lunch (true or not) that some bigger slaves can be convinced to gang up on him.
This, perhaps, is where the trouble actually starts.
Because Calux’s schemes are still a child’s schemes, and they are flawed. But they are remarkable for a child of his age, and Marcel continues to be thrilled with his progress. So thrilled, he makes the mistake of telling some others. Who then report back to his boss, complete with a holo of Cal.
And here’s the thing.
Cal might be young, but he has all the makings of great beauty.
And Hutt’s like beautiful things. Like deadly things.
So when a video surfaces of Cal taking on an adult and winning, despite the fact they are bigger, older, stronger….his fate is sealed.
One minute Cal is grinning split-lipped and triumphant, the next thing….well, the next thing he know he’s being called to Marcel’s office and Marcel is hugging him.
Marcel never hugs him, so Cal stiffens minutely before relaxing and clinging. Whatever he needs to communicate must be important. He should play the part.
But Marcel doesn’t say anything, and his empathy says that Marcel is genuine in his guilt and sadness. Something is wrong.
Something is very, very wrong.
Marcel has never insisted on Calux wearing much recognition of his status. A collar, of course, but he doesn’t….other personal slaves are usually draped in jewellery and silks, and whilst Marcel has taught him makeup and body care routines and insists he follows the latter, he’s never expressed opinion the times Cal has worn makeup, so Cal doesn’t generally get fancy.
But now he instructs him to dress in silks and gold, to make his face pretty. To make sure he is perfect, to cover the split in his lip, the bruising on his temple. Thankfully, Cal’s dark, ruddy skin means he doesn’t show bruises well. (This is something later, he will come to regret.)
We’ll skip over the intervening years, where Cal survives.
This is the important bit ; he survives.
And it is surviving, until the day everything changes.
His owner is murdered, and apparently he’s to blame.
Cal’s defence of ‘If I’d murdered him I’d have been clever about it’ isn’t going to hold water..
So he runs - because here’s the other important bit. Marcel never chipped Calux, and his next owner just assumed. And the tiny part of Calux, the part that says ; go left now. Move your shot up slightly. The bit Calux calls intuition - well, it told him to stay quiet.
If not, Calux reasons, he’d be dead.
You don’t try slaves, you just kill them, after all.
He doesn’t know what makes him choose the ship he goes for to stow away on, but it gets him out. And it doesn’t get him out empty handed. If he’s going to leave, he’s not leaving empty handed.
But now what?
If you ask his mother, it will be the moment he came squalling his way into the world with his father’s black rimmed eyes.
If you ask his mother’s pimp, it’ll be the moment she caught the attention of a powerful psychopath who had enough money to pay him for a long term contract.
If you ask Cal, it came the day that he got blamed for a murder he didn’t commit.
The truth perhaps, is somewhere in-between.
Cal’s first few years were fraught with tension - the babe resembled his mother, but also his father, and whilst his mother tended to his needs, she hated him, and he was part-Zeltron, an empath, and could sense it. Despite this, the other women loved him. He was tiny, adorable, and he smelled like baby! Which was weird, considering many of the women were different species, and had different senses of what smelled like baby but then, Yos (his mother) had kept quiet about the exact specifics of her species.
What gave her the edge was none of their business, after all. And if they all wanted to look after the brat because the little bastard was clever enough to manipulate his pheromones, all the better.
So for three relatively peaceful years, in between police raids and druggies and bad johns, Calux grows from baby to toddler. To his mother, he grows old enough to sell. She struggles now, with the scars from his father, to get enough work. Selling a child - especially a child as precocious and - she notes with a scowl - pretty - as Calux to a slaver….she could get enough money to retire.
The issue was how to do it without getting caught.
God knows the other sluts were too attached to the goddamn kid.
But this is not Yos’s story, so we don’t need to detail the ways and means she employed to get the attention of a slaver. We don’t even need to detail the way it went wrong, how everyone ended up dead or enslaved on the whole station.
What we need to know is this ; Cal is taken on and taken an interest in by a male Twilek named Marcen. He recognises the raw potential in a half-Zeltron who at this age is already sneaky and skilled enough to evade capture by his teams for a solid half hour by blasting them with pheromones and then legging it through places too tiny for them to go.
Marcen is the head of the operation - not the whole head, of course, no, that leads back to a Hutt somewhere - but he is senior enough he can claim a child as a personal slave and have nobody bat an eyelash.
At least nobody who wants to stay alive.
For Calux, these are the golden years.
He has vague memories of before, of the station and a beacon of hatred, of desperately trying to avoid that. But most of his childhood is spent under Marcel, learning. Learning, absorbing and training.
By the time Calux is five, he is sneaky. The other slaves - mostly female - no longer see him as a child, but as a rival. Oh some of them are nice to him, especially those he can mimic pheromones of, but the majority are jealous of Marcel’s attention. Marcel has no interest in bodies, after all. Being his personal slave is a safety net they all want. They can’t harm him overtly - Marcel would kill them - but there a multitude of ways they can make Cal’s life difficult. But for every time they do, for every time they spoil his work, they pull his hair, they ruin his clothes….he steals their stuff, he wrecks their cleaning, he misplaced paperwork for them...the list goes on.
By eight, a fighter. The other slaves are older, bigger, stronger who Marcel has him train with. So Calux learns to be fast, to dodge, to throw accurately, to cry on command and look pathetic so that others will pity him and believe that they started it. Marcel is thrilled.
By the time he is ten, Calux is a manipulator and a schemer. He runs long cons on other slaves, sets up traps. He’s figured out that money will motivate others, that fear does, that if you sob and cry that someone stole your lunch (true or not) that some bigger slaves can be convinced to gang up on him.
This, perhaps, is where the trouble actually starts.
Because Calux’s schemes are still a child’s schemes, and they are flawed. But they are remarkable for a child of his age, and Marcel continues to be thrilled with his progress. So thrilled, he makes the mistake of telling some others. Who then report back to his boss, complete with a holo of Cal.
And here’s the thing.
Cal might be young, but he has all the makings of great beauty.
And Hutt’s like beautiful things. Like deadly things.
So when a video surfaces of Cal taking on an adult and winning, despite the fact they are bigger, older, stronger….his fate is sealed.
One minute Cal is grinning split-lipped and triumphant, the next thing….well, the next thing he know he’s being called to Marcel’s office and Marcel is hugging him.
Marcel never hugs him, so Cal stiffens minutely before relaxing and clinging. Whatever he needs to communicate must be important. He should play the part.
But Marcel doesn’t say anything, and his empathy says that Marcel is genuine in his guilt and sadness. Something is wrong.
Something is very, very wrong.
Marcel has never insisted on Calux wearing much recognition of his status. A collar, of course, but he doesn’t….other personal slaves are usually draped in jewellery and silks, and whilst Marcel has taught him makeup and body care routines and insists he follows the latter, he’s never expressed opinion the times Cal has worn makeup, so Cal doesn’t generally get fancy.
But now he instructs him to dress in silks and gold, to make his face pretty. To make sure he is perfect, to cover the split in his lip, the bruising on his temple. Thankfully, Cal’s dark, ruddy skin means he doesn’t show bruises well. (This is something later, he will come to regret.)
We’ll skip over the intervening years, where Cal survives.
This is the important bit ; he survives.
And it is surviving, until the day everything changes.
His owner is murdered, and apparently he’s to blame.
Cal’s defence of ‘If I’d murdered him I’d have been clever about it’ isn’t going to hold water..
So he runs - because here’s the other important bit. Marcel never chipped Calux, and his next owner just assumed. And the tiny part of Calux, the part that says ; go left now. Move your shot up slightly. The bit Calux calls intuition - well, it told him to stay quiet.
If not, Calux reasons, he’d be dead.
You don’t try slaves, you just kill them, after all.
He doesn’t know what makes him choose the ship he goes for to stow away on, but it gets him out. And it doesn’t get him out empty handed. If he’s going to leave, he’s not leaving empty handed.
But now what?
SKILLS:
No Knowledge/Acceptance of the Force - it happens and it aids him, but he puts it down to his species abilities, or just 'good luck'.
Basic rudimentary knowledge of Medical - first aid, basically.
Basic knowledge of Marksmanship - he's a good shot, but he knows little past aim and fire.
Good knowledge of Stealth - he's uncannily good at sneaking and getting around unnoticed.
Good knowledge of Parkour - fun and functional!
Very Good knowledge of hand to hand combat and knife/vibro-blade fighting.
Very Good knowledge of cosmetics, bodycare, nutrition, fashion - he knows his stuff about how to look good, including sewing and tailoring.
Very Good knowledge of dancing, singing and a few select musical instruments.
Languages - Common, Huttese
GEAR:
Array of Vibroblades (https://www.thestarwarsrp.com/index.php?threads/vibroblade.92259/) - twin ~fancy~ daggers, plus a bunch of smaller ones secreted around his person.
BLURGG-1120 (https://www.thestarwarsrp.com/index.php?threads/blurrg-1120-blaster-pistol.93952/) - plus a few backup power cells.
Blast Vest (https://www.thestarwarsrp.com/index.php?threads/blast-vest.92290/) - heavily customised and disguised with fabric, but it is what it is.
Lute, Flute and Violin.
ROLE-PLAYS:
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