- Joined
- Nov 4, 2009
- Messages
- 3,133
- Reaction score
- 6
Name: Taryc Rayth
Species: Human
Sex: Male
Age: Twenty-nine
Homeworld: Nar Shaddaa
Height: Six feet, six inches.
Weight: Two hundred twenty-five pounds.
Hair Color: Light brown, blonde.
Eye Color: Hazel
Affiliation: Hutt Cartel
Rank: Pirate
Role: Squad Leader, CQC.
Gear Basics: Pulse-wave blaster, favored for his ship raiding and urban warfare needs, thick stock used to bash skulls. Black armor akin to the Outrider Scout armor with Hutt Cartel markings sprayed into the chestpiece. Mag-boots. Knuckles, elbows, shins, and knees are more thickly padded and metal inlaid. A bandanna conceals the lower half of his face and his rebreather. Taryc often forgoes the helmet.
Force Sensitive: Yes, untapped.
Personality: Taryc is, to put it bluntly, an irredeemable hedonistic piece of sentient garbage with very few likeable qualities. He's loud, arrogant, and impolite to the umpteenth degree. Often drunk on smaller raids and, to quote him, "high beyond the pain" in larger ones. He leads a small rowdy band of various races and types on the more immoral and high-risk missions the cartel needs carried out. You have better odds of seeing Revan approved as a character here than seeing him do something out of charity or empathy. As far as he's concerned, he's here for a good time not a long time. That said, the man does love his "craft" and does devote any given time not spent blasting music high or drunk off his face spent honing his skills as a killer. His discipline training directly rewards his hedonistic side and there's no greater thrill than a hard earned kill.
Species: Human
Sex: Male
Age: Twenty-nine
Homeworld: Nar Shaddaa
Height: Six feet, six inches.
Weight: Two hundred twenty-five pounds.
Hair Color: Light brown, blonde.
Eye Color: Hazel
Affiliation: Hutt Cartel
Rank: Pirate
Role: Squad Leader, CQC.
Gear Basics: Pulse-wave blaster, favored for his ship raiding and urban warfare needs, thick stock used to bash skulls. Black armor akin to the Outrider Scout armor with Hutt Cartel markings sprayed into the chestpiece. Mag-boots. Knuckles, elbows, shins, and knees are more thickly padded and metal inlaid. A bandanna conceals the lower half of his face and his rebreather. Taryc often forgoes the helmet.
Force Sensitive: Yes, untapped.
Personality: Taryc is, to put it bluntly, an irredeemable hedonistic piece of sentient garbage with very few likeable qualities. He's loud, arrogant, and impolite to the umpteenth degree. Often drunk on smaller raids and, to quote him, "high beyond the pain" in larger ones. He leads a small rowdy band of various races and types on the more immoral and high-risk missions the cartel needs carried out. You have better odds of seeing Revan approved as a character here than seeing him do something out of charity or empathy. As far as he's concerned, he's here for a good time not a long time. That said, the man does love his "craft" and does devote any given time not spent blasting music high or drunk off his face spent honing his skills as a killer. His discipline training directly rewards his hedonistic side and there's no greater thrill than a hard earned kill.
Head on a swivel, eyes forward at all times, finger off the trigger unless committed to firing. Watch your six, trust your boys. Perfect form, drill it again. A thousand days of practice for five hours of battle.
Watch it all evaporate when you step into the trench.
I've seen it a hundred times over. You don't rise to the occasion, you fall to your level of training and practice. Everyone says what they'll do when it happens, I've seen it from the depths of the slums to the cleanest of those pressed military boys. The situation everyone is ready for. You'll step it up and drop that body for the money.
The sky grows dark as your men disappear. Those big guns from above are firing just like in the simulations but they ain't here to help you. Your best friend just got blown to hell, there's parts of him all over you now. What're you to do? Fight or flight baby boy? You didn't grow up around this. You just wanted to serve. You had some gassed up idea of what bravery and service was. Chopped and screwed and served to you.
And now you're in front of me.
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