Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Ben Mentel

BEN MENTEL


FACTION: If I can get with a group of people willing to help me find my daughter and help some innocents along the way, then I’ll shack up with ‘em.

RANK: Vigilante Private Investigator, like it says on my business card.

SPECIES: Human

AGE:43 standard years. Just enough for my back to hurt in the morning.

SEX: Male, last time I checked.

HEIGHT: 5’7”.

WEIGHT: 160 lbs.

EYES: Brown.

HAIR: Dark Brown.

SKIN: Sun-Kissed.

FORCE SENSITIVE: Nope. I checked.


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STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES (Required: 2 Weaknesses Minimum) :
[+] I’m a pretty good shot with a blaster, if I do say so myself. No sharoshooter, but put a pistol in my hand and give a close target, and it goes down.
[+] I ain’t a scholar, but I can put pieces together good. Mysteries are what I live for.

[+/-] I got this pesky morality. I won’t hurt no one that don’t have it coming, and I just don’t have it in me to shoot a man who’s begging for his life. I also have this stupid tendency to help anyone in need.

[-] Took a bolt to the leg a few years back. Bothers me to this day. I walk slow, and forget running.
[-] I’m a cigarra addict, I’ll be the first to say it. Pack a day for years. I don’t have much breath, and I need awhile to catch it once it’s gone.

APPEARANCE:
This line of work is hard on you. I got bags under my eyes, I haven’t washed my jacket in years, and I always got at least some level of scruff. Always got a tie, though. Ma always says a tie makes a man look professional.

BACKGROUND:
My old man once told me that the difference between a brave man and a coward is that a coward hides from his problems, and a brave man does not. I try to live by that. The name’s Ben, Ben Mentel, Private Investigator. At least, I used to be.
I was born and raised on Nar Shaddaa, and you know what that means. Dirt poor as a kid, always under the thumb of the gangsters and the corrupt cops, looking for a way out of the slums, you’ve seen the holos, you know how it goes. But my old man? He knew better than all them holo stars, because he didn’t try escaping, he played the game, instead. You see, my old man was a con man. Schemes, rigged card games, snake oil cons, you think of it, he did it. Conned the citizens, conned the cops, conned the gangsters, they all got the treatment. So me and ma were a bit better off than most on the planet. Unfortunately, his way of putting food on the table didn’t earn him many friends.
I was seventeen when they whacked him, blasted him in the back of the head in some dark alley, leaving me and ma all alone. You know what that means. Off to the factories for me. It wasn’t terrible work, back-breaking labor, and the hours were murder, but it paid the rent. Did that for a few years, saving up to buy my own blaster: DL-44, old thing, but packs a punch. I named her Sally. From there, I just helped people who needed help from a guy with a blaster. Scaring gangsters, bodyguard, that kind of thing.
But that tires you out after awhile, and I was starting to wish for more. That’s when I met her. My wife. Met her while I was guarding some kid who had gotten in trouble with the local crime lord. I offered to take her out for coffee, she said yes, eight months later, I’m slipping a ring on her finger. She was the one who encouraged me to open the office.
If I was ever happy, it was with her, in those years. Helping people who needed to be helped, living with her, loving her. I’ll never forget her face, or her laugh. We had a daughter, eventually. I think she’d be seventeen, now? I was reluctant, and waited a long time to have her, didn’t know if I was ready to be a father. Still don’t.
The trouble came when my wife died. A genetic disease, that couldn’t be cured. Our daughter was young, and I couldn’t handle being on my own with her. Threw myself into my work, ignoring her, hiring babysitters that raised her more than I did, for years. Then, one day, I came home, and she was just. . . gone.
To this day, I don’t know if she was kidnapped, or ran away, or what. I don’t know if she’s on the planet, off-world, across the galaxy, or dead. All I know after three years is she ain’t on Narr Shaddaa. But I’m Ben Mentel, Private Investigator, and I’m going to find out where she is, if it kills me. If someone has her, I’ll kill them. And if she ran away, I’m going to give her the scolding of a lifetime. It doesn’t matter where she is, how far she is, or who’s in my way, I’m finding my little girl. Because I don’t hide from my problems, anymore.

.

SHIP:
Not just yet..

KILLS:
None yet..

BOUNTIES COLLECTED:
Nope. None here, either.

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ROLE-PLAYS:
COMING SOON TO A FORUM NEAR YOU.
 
Come join the Coalition if you're looking for a faction to help you get on your feet with the 'chaotic good' character types, we also provide free daughter insurance should the need arise. Alternatively, you can always PM any one of us (me) with questions or ideas for threading if you're keen.

| [member="Ben Mentel"] |
 
Reading this almost makes me think of [member="James Justice"], just dramatically less unhinged. And no accent.

Almost makes me wish [member="Ryn'Dhal"] was still available for me to write.

Looking forward to seeing you out there in the Chaos.

[member="Ben Mentel"]
 

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