Gillem
Character
Gillem
| Age | 35 Standard Years |
| Species | Human |
| Gender | Male |
| Height | 5’10ft / 1.5m |
| Weight | 195lbs/86kgs |
| Force Sensitive | Force Dead |
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION
Dirty blond hair, almost brown. Lean built. Travels in worn out very seasoned clothes, especially for more rugged living. Dark brown duster, tan combat pants, dark brown combat boots, something more akin to a tighter undershirt, stetson hat also dark brown. Trimmed beard, blue eyes with hints of green and a more western draw in his voice. The scars on his body hints at cybernetic augmentations including a cybernetic prosthetic left arm that doubles as a cannon capable of firing a high caliber slug.
INVENTORY
Prosthetic arm capable of firing a singular high powered and high caliber slug.
Dual slug throwing revolvers capable of swapping ammunition types for versatility.
Cybernetic eye capable of checking bounty databases to confirm bounty targets, also enhancing aim and zoom magnifications.
Cybernetic heart that autodefibs in case his heart does stop offering a second chance. Once used it burns out the defib and will have to be replaced.
High powered foldable blaster rifle capable of firing at extreme distances. Using high powered plasma cores as ammunition, loading one at a time. One shot burns the core making it essential that every shot counts.
Boots are also augmented with thrusters to get to high ground, not capable of true flight or hovering. Can be used to get to higher ground or soften falls.
(W.I.P)
PERSONALITY AND BELIEFS
Very calm and cool under pressure. Used to being pinned or stuck under fire and high intense situations. “A good iron at your side is all you need to survive.” He is not opposed to using more relaxing drugs. Will often trade any weapons from his fallen targets as trade to reliable sellers.
STRENGTHS
Quick reaction timing and exceeding shot placements makes him a very ideal gunslinger.
Very well decorated combat pilot.
His knowledge of cybernetics makes him really good at slicing, and his knowledge of how people act make him really good at gathering information whether it be through bribes, interrogation or charm. No order specified.
WEAKNESSES
Impatient, “The faster you get the job done the faster you don’t have to think about it.”
Can be seen as reckless regardless of any “calculated” risks he would take. “Don’t tell me the odds.”
Hits hard and loud. He is not very stealthy.
HISTORY
You will never find a more retched hive of scum and villainy
The dust whistles in the wind as the sun bit down with its heat. The quiet shuffling and bustling of the small town could be heard from but a stones throw away. People going about their day, shopping, business, drinking, gambling. Just your normal day here on Tatooine.
One particular cantina held his target as Gillem stepped onto the deck and the door hissed open. Lively music ceased as heads turned in his direction. The loosely rolled tobacco leaf smoldered as he took a deep inhale and released it through his nostrils. His cybernetic eye scanned each individual, labeling certain bounty targets and their price. He ignored most of them, he was here for only one man, and he would leave with only one man.
“Oi, you gonna order somethin or just stand there gawkin?”
The bartender's voice held a slight tension as Gillem stayed silent. His slow bootfalls echoed off the floor as he stepped closer. His eye finally scanned his target. A weequay surrounded by ladies and spice. The scent of their alcohol laden breath hung in the air as they laughed blissfully unaware of the predator that just found his prey’s den.
With him were four burly men. Muscle for intimidation. But last he checked, even muscles as dense as theirs would not stop slugs.
“You can’t go in there!”
The bartender cried after him causing his steps to cease. Gillem simply reached into his coat to pull out a bounty puck and slid it to him across the bar with the Weequay’s face.
“If you wanna stop me. Then make my day.”
His voice was quiet and rugged. Deep with enough tone to carry even when speaking quietly.
The bartender looked down at the puck and began to sweat. His hand that was on his blaster beneath the bar let it go, an uneasy feeling in his gut screaming at him that it would be his last attempt if he used it. He didn’t say anything, just gave a nervous quick shake of his head as Gillem walked ahead.
He walked up towards the table where the four body guards stood up.
“Stop right there little man.”
The biggest one walked up to him to inspect him. Gillem's eye scanned him. A bounty worth five hundred credits. The other three marked with one hundred and fifty, two hundred and a measly fifty. His main target was a good two thousand.
Gillem’s normal eye glared as the big guy stepped up to him.
“Step aside and you won’t be sucking air through your chest.”
The big guys laughed followed by a snort and spit towards Gillem’s boots.
“Not a chance bub.”
Gillem's wrists slacked.
“Who is that, Berfar? A friend of mine?”
The Weequay spoke with a rasped voice that seemed like he had been smoking since the day his eyes opened.
“No sir, he was just leaving.”
The one called Berfar placed his hand over his rifle slung to his side.
“Rifles like that ain’t good for close combat, Berfar.”
With a quick tense of his muscles his hands drew his pistols and within mere blinks fired four shots. Four big bodied bodyguards fell dead with massive holes in their chests. Screams rang out from the service ladies as they scrambled off their customer.
In a quick flourished twirl of his pistols he holstered them with ease before taking another slow draw of his cigarette and then flicking it onto the biggest corpse that lay just ahead of him. He then pulled out some specialized cuffs and tossed them at the Weequay’s feet.
“Mr.Alman This is your last chance to come out in one piece. Make this easier for the both of us.”
The holes in the walls smoked by his head as the heated slugs cooled from within them.
Mr.Alman growled at him as he quickly stood up to run.
Gillem scoffed as he quickly drew his pistol again, firing once, separating his leg from the mid point of his shin as he took a step. A scream rang our from him as he tripped over the stump.
“The cuffs were to make it easier on you.”
He spoke quietly as he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and drug him back to the bar. Gillem dropped him as he lay crying and in shock. Without worry he pulled out a handful of credits and slid them to the bartender.
“For the damages.”
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