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NAME: Vajama (va-Ha-muh)
FACTION: Jedi Order
RANK: Padawan
SPECIES: Wrean
AGE: 19
GENDER: Male
HEIGHT: 6’6”
WEIGHT: 105 lbs
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes, Untrained
APPEARANCE:
Pale white skin from having lived most of his life underwater far from the effects of the sun, long grimy blonde hair often matted and unkempt. Once having blue eyes, now nothing but a ruined mess he keeps hidden under a blindfold of dried kelp. Not yet able to grow a full beard the o my facial hair present is errant stubble he couldn't care less to shave. Normally wears old thrown out smuggler’s clothing, feeling unworthy to wear the armor gifted to him by his tribe
ATTRIBUTES:
Vajama was once a passable duelist with a strong foundation, now shattered by his injury. A newfound blind man, he’s spent a year living with this new disability but has given no effort to improve his quality of life or work around it. He is a drunk, but also has a high alcohol tolerance because of it. Although out of practice he can be a talented chef when out to the task which compliments his sense of exploration, often having to search and/or hunt for the ingredients himself. He also has a good singing voice, if not a bit distinct in its sound as he learned to sing underwater and not in open air. What limited use of the Force he has allows him to manipulate small objects and occasionally sense danger, even if to him it’s just his own hunch that he feels. He is scrawny, underweight and malnourished and spends the majority of each day sleeping, only stirring awake to panhandle at peak traffic hours.
PERSONALITY:
Perhaps in another life, Vajama was a stay at home father, he is a lover by nature nurtured to be a fighter. Currently, he is a mopey bastard with little care for himself or others leading to a rather unpleasant persona. But it’s hardly a reflection of the majority of his life he spent as a free spirit that wanted nothing more to see he galaxy for all its splendor. An ally of nature that respects its boundaries and knows how to use her boons to his benefit. Having been the popular kid for most of his formative years, he knows more or less how to read a room and steer a conversation, granted there’s little competition for attention. Although not necessarily charitable, having taken care of four younger siblings he can be very protective of those he perceives as weak or as victims.
BIOGRAPHY:
Born on the planet Wrea, Vajama came into the world via his two loving parents Aie and Enwe of the Wotchae tribe. His childhood was the standard for his culture, living below the surface and exploring further into the depths with each passing year. Initially taking more after his mother, his interests were the likes of singing at gatherings, cooking for his 7 brothers and sisters, and exploring the oceans surrounding his home. His life would however veer into a wildly different path just after he turned ten years of age.
Enwe, realizing her son would likely wish to roam the galaxy as soon as possible, wished to help him in his goals and once he turned ten started to slowly introduce him to life on the surface. At first it was merely minutes at a time, to adjust his lungs to the change in pressure. Even just the small floating trading post frequented by smugglers amazed him as he heard stories exchanged of far off worlds, some of which supposedly didn’t even have water.
However, finally out of his home in the remote tribe, his force sensitivity was picked up on by a traveling Jedi, recognizing a potential youngling. The Jedi extended an invitation to leave his family and learn the ways of the force. His more wary father relayed the message to the shaman of their tribe, asking for guidance. Vajama himself wasn’t keen on leaving the family he’d known his whole life so soon and elected to stay on Wrea. This interaction did however change his life forever. The fatemarked shaman of their tribe, in her superstitious ways, pronounced him to be of great destiny and importance to the tribe. Whether she truly believed it or it merely being a ploy to keep a potentially powerful individual within the tribe, she claimed that he would be the one to slay the Black Shadow.
From his years exploring he knew the Black Shadow to be a large sea creature well enough away from the tribe that if left alone would not pose a danger. If killed however, the tribe would consider said champion a hero of mythic proportions, to be praised for centuries to come. Practically overnight he became the golden child of his people. He would receive training from the greatest warriors his people could offer, have access to the finest foods to tone his body and whatever weapons he desired. He learned to fight with sword and trident, and over several years learned to manipulate small objects such as shells with the Force.
By age eighteen everything seemed perfect. He was in peak physical condition, he had the love and affection of Silna, who would soon be his partner, and his confidence had never been higher. Then the dark day came. With dozens swimming far enough away to be out of range but watch the action unfold, he set off to face the creature. It was ultimately an ugly affair. A doomed fool’s errand. He had learned to fight other humanoids yes, but hardly any of his training applied to a creature ten times his size. His confidence shattered as he quickly resorted to simply trying to survive. The creature scored deep gashes in his back and leg before striking him in the face, ruining his eyes in the process.
Blind, bleeding and defeated, he awaited the end, but it never came. All he heard was a direction: up. It was his mother’s voice. He swam frantically, but the creature did not give chase. Instead it seemed to follow his mother, sacrificing herself so he could escape. He awoke sore and alone, but for the first time in his life the light did not return when he opened his eyes. He drifted for what seemed like forever. Without friends, without family, without hope. He didn’t remember reaching the floating trading post on the surface, but it was there he would wallow in his misery and drown his sorrows with booze.
In one fell swoop he had lost everything. Everything the latter half of his life had built towards was a wash. To go against the prophecy was surely blasphemy of the highest order for his people, he could never show his face there again. He could never see his family, his father, siblings or Silna. Now he sits in the trading port as a squaller, asking for change, living in self pity without purpose. Some days he cries, others his lament turns to bitterness, and every now and then he goes numb to it all with the aid of ale. Without intervention, he will likely die a beggar one way or another...
SKILLS:
Life underwater has made Vajama a naturally excellent swimmer, and is a serviceable scout as well given his passion for exploration in his youth. He could be considered an amateur swordsman pre-injury, as well as an amateur cook and singer.
GEAR:
Flask, Vibroblade, Pot for cooking, busking panhandling etc, Kelp Stash for renewed blindfolds, anti-gill irritation gel scarf
ROLE-PLAYS:
TBA
FACTION: Jedi Order
RANK: Padawan
SPECIES: Wrean
AGE: 19
GENDER: Male
HEIGHT: 6’6”
WEIGHT: 105 lbs
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes, Untrained
APPEARANCE:
Pale white skin from having lived most of his life underwater far from the effects of the sun, long grimy blonde hair often matted and unkempt. Once having blue eyes, now nothing but a ruined mess he keeps hidden under a blindfold of dried kelp. Not yet able to grow a full beard the o my facial hair present is errant stubble he couldn't care less to shave. Normally wears old thrown out smuggler’s clothing, feeling unworthy to wear the armor gifted to him by his tribe
ATTRIBUTES:
Vajama was once a passable duelist with a strong foundation, now shattered by his injury. A newfound blind man, he’s spent a year living with this new disability but has given no effort to improve his quality of life or work around it. He is a drunk, but also has a high alcohol tolerance because of it. Although out of practice he can be a talented chef when out to the task which compliments his sense of exploration, often having to search and/or hunt for the ingredients himself. He also has a good singing voice, if not a bit distinct in its sound as he learned to sing underwater and not in open air. What limited use of the Force he has allows him to manipulate small objects and occasionally sense danger, even if to him it’s just his own hunch that he feels. He is scrawny, underweight and malnourished and spends the majority of each day sleeping, only stirring awake to panhandle at peak traffic hours.
PERSONALITY:
Perhaps in another life, Vajama was a stay at home father, he is a lover by nature nurtured to be a fighter. Currently, he is a mopey bastard with little care for himself or others leading to a rather unpleasant persona. But it’s hardly a reflection of the majority of his life he spent as a free spirit that wanted nothing more to see he galaxy for all its splendor. An ally of nature that respects its boundaries and knows how to use her boons to his benefit. Having been the popular kid for most of his formative years, he knows more or less how to read a room and steer a conversation, granted there’s little competition for attention. Although not necessarily charitable, having taken care of four younger siblings he can be very protective of those he perceives as weak or as victims.
BIOGRAPHY:
Born on the planet Wrea, Vajama came into the world via his two loving parents Aie and Enwe of the Wotchae tribe. His childhood was the standard for his culture, living below the surface and exploring further into the depths with each passing year. Initially taking more after his mother, his interests were the likes of singing at gatherings, cooking for his 7 brothers and sisters, and exploring the oceans surrounding his home. His life would however veer into a wildly different path just after he turned ten years of age.
Enwe, realizing her son would likely wish to roam the galaxy as soon as possible, wished to help him in his goals and once he turned ten started to slowly introduce him to life on the surface. At first it was merely minutes at a time, to adjust his lungs to the change in pressure. Even just the small floating trading post frequented by smugglers amazed him as he heard stories exchanged of far off worlds, some of which supposedly didn’t even have water.
However, finally out of his home in the remote tribe, his force sensitivity was picked up on by a traveling Jedi, recognizing a potential youngling. The Jedi extended an invitation to leave his family and learn the ways of the force. His more wary father relayed the message to the shaman of their tribe, asking for guidance. Vajama himself wasn’t keen on leaving the family he’d known his whole life so soon and elected to stay on Wrea. This interaction did however change his life forever. The fatemarked shaman of their tribe, in her superstitious ways, pronounced him to be of great destiny and importance to the tribe. Whether she truly believed it or it merely being a ploy to keep a potentially powerful individual within the tribe, she claimed that he would be the one to slay the Black Shadow.
From his years exploring he knew the Black Shadow to be a large sea creature well enough away from the tribe that if left alone would not pose a danger. If killed however, the tribe would consider said champion a hero of mythic proportions, to be praised for centuries to come. Practically overnight he became the golden child of his people. He would receive training from the greatest warriors his people could offer, have access to the finest foods to tone his body and whatever weapons he desired. He learned to fight with sword and trident, and over several years learned to manipulate small objects such as shells with the Force.
By age eighteen everything seemed perfect. He was in peak physical condition, he had the love and affection of Silna, who would soon be his partner, and his confidence had never been higher. Then the dark day came. With dozens swimming far enough away to be out of range but watch the action unfold, he set off to face the creature. It was ultimately an ugly affair. A doomed fool’s errand. He had learned to fight other humanoids yes, but hardly any of his training applied to a creature ten times his size. His confidence shattered as he quickly resorted to simply trying to survive. The creature scored deep gashes in his back and leg before striking him in the face, ruining his eyes in the process.
Blind, bleeding and defeated, he awaited the end, but it never came. All he heard was a direction: up. It was his mother’s voice. He swam frantically, but the creature did not give chase. Instead it seemed to follow his mother, sacrificing herself so he could escape. He awoke sore and alone, but for the first time in his life the light did not return when he opened his eyes. He drifted for what seemed like forever. Without friends, without family, without hope. He didn’t remember reaching the floating trading post on the surface, but it was there he would wallow in his misery and drown his sorrows with booze.
In one fell swoop he had lost everything. Everything the latter half of his life had built towards was a wash. To go against the prophecy was surely blasphemy of the highest order for his people, he could never show his face there again. He could never see his family, his father, siblings or Silna. Now he sits in the trading port as a squaller, asking for change, living in self pity without purpose. Some days he cries, others his lament turns to bitterness, and every now and then he goes numb to it all with the aid of ale. Without intervention, he will likely die a beggar one way or another...
SKILLS:
Life underwater has made Vajama a naturally excellent swimmer, and is a serviceable scout as well given his passion for exploration in his youth. He could be considered an amateur swordsman pre-injury, as well as an amateur cook and singer.
GEAR:
Flask, Vibroblade, Pot for cooking, busking panhandling etc, Kelp Stash for renewed blindfolds, anti-gill irritation gel scarf
ROLE-PLAYS:
TBA
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