Jeffar
Character
NAME: Jeffar Un Talsheba (Huttese for “Advisor of the Slaves”)
FACTION: Still looking for a place in the Galaxy to be horrible
RANK: Formerly a paramilitary “tactical adviser” without rank.
SPECIES: Hutt-Xa Fel Hybrid, Cybernetically maintained.
AGE: About 56, give or take a month.
SEX: Hemaphroditic, typically identifies as male.
HEIGHT: Including his cybernetic mobility chassis, about 5'7” without it, about 4'6”
WEIGHT: With Chassis, about 1500 pounds. Without, in excess of 800.
EYES: Red sclera and yellow irises.
HAIR: No Hair, but his “dreadlocks” are actually a series of neural transmitters and other cybernetic equipment that allows him to operate his mobility chassis.
SKIN: The waxy sort of yellow-green one would expect from a sickly frog.
FORCE SENSITIVE: Thankfully for the rest of the universe, Jeffar has no known force sensitivity.
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STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES :
+ I'm smarter than you look: The Xa Fel's natural talent for machinery combined with Hutt intellect to develop a genius in the arts of machinery and politics. Those are his strong suits.
+ Good luck trying to kill me: He's probably one of the hardiest beings the galaxy in regard to physical harm and toxicity. This was actually the intent of creating him, and in that aspect, it was successful.
+ I feel great, I haven't slept in twenty years: Jeffar does not seem to ever need sleep, or even be capable of it. He's always conscious.
+ I'm a precocious scamp: The cellular regenerative capacity in his Hutt Genomes will extend his lifespan into a few centuries at the minimum, by his own predictions.
+/- It's a blessing and a curse: Jeffar's prodigious weight is an asset in combat sometimes, and a liability some other times.
+/- You have no idea how much this stings: The cybernetic implants are in a constant cycle of rejection and regeneration with his alien imunnopathology. He's basically in a constant state of pain. This increase his pain tolerance well over most people's, but also cause him to have a fairly permanent lack of compassion—who can care for a universe of suffering for centuries? IOt also makes him highly distractible and prone to volatile rages. As of yet, he has not found a drug capable of taking the edge off.
- Must...not....collapse...into...own...mass... : His mutant skeleton and weight are maladapted anatomically. Due to his internal incompatibilities, he has no lower limbs or independent locomotion. He must rely on a cybernetic chassis to maintain any semblance of movement, and even then, it's sluggish. His top speed is a fast walk for most over beings.
- I'm not insane and neither am I: A living being who's entire existence is consumed by continuous pain with no reprieve of shock or unconsciousness from your body internally trying to kill parts of itself and failing. Combine that with two neurological systems that entirely conflict each other, and you have a mind that is warped well beyond conventional sanity.
- I'm ugly and I know it: Jeffar's uniquely disturbing appearance is probably one of the most conspicuous bodies in the galaxy.
- Damn my love of convoluted technology: His Cybernetics allow him mobility and the ability to function. Disable those, and he's just a gigantic paraplegic and a bit of a push over.
- The monster walks: Most Hutts would consider his very existence an abomination. If they knew he was part Hutt. Or that he existed. Or If they could actually look at him without getting freaked out.
APPEARANCE:
I'll give a you a moment to recover. Essentially, if you imagined the largest, ugliest person earth, and strapped that man to a machine that's a mix between between a torture chamber and a deadly combat droid, you'd about have something that made people who knew Jeffar personally cough nervously and excuse themselves from the room.
BIOGRAPHY:
Right, my story. Well, it's complicated. You see, the species of my creator, the Xel Fa, are horribly unlucky. They were normal humans at one point, until Kuat Drive Yards turned their home planet into a smoldering polluted basket of death and plague. Since then all Xel Fa were born with a...blight, for lack of a better term. The planet had become so toxic, that if had mutated our entire species—on a global scale—into sickly, permanently unhealthy beings.
Then, the Gulag Plague came. By some twisted joke, the Xel Fa were mostly immune to the damn thing. Unfortunately, the natural immunity brought even more fear to the Galaxy of them, leading to purges, crazy medical experiments, the whole nine yards. Xel Fa were hated an feared for a long time until the plague faded form memory, and other horrible things happened.
But how does this insanity lead to me? I'm getting there, shaddap. The Xrl Fa retreated to their home planet for a long time, isolating themselves, but those that survived the medical experiments and kidnappings abroad began to tell stories. And, well, even a horror story can have hope for some people.
About 100 years back, a group of Xel Fa scientists began researching ways to find a cure for the species' condition. They tried all kinds of stuff. Forbidden Force Magic, Body transplants, cybernetic consciousness movements, the works. They got nothing.
One guy, Zeryn Ta Kebacc, went to Nar Shaddaa. Started finding Hutts and taking samples, either by force or bribery—whatever was needed. He thought that the Hutt's resistance to polluted, toxic environments would force a beneficial mutation if pushed into a segment of the Xel Fa population.
I'm...as close to success as he ever got. The pain's too much, the suffering is maddening. He killed himself, feeling sorrowful for having made me. I've tried to do myself in twice now. That was a crappy decade. It's been...twenty years since I last tried to die. Now, I'm more interested in getting off this rock. See what the universe has for me. We'll find out.
SHIP:
Not Yet.
FACTION: Still looking for a place in the Galaxy to be horrible
RANK: Formerly a paramilitary “tactical adviser” without rank.
SPECIES: Hutt-Xa Fel Hybrid, Cybernetically maintained.
AGE: About 56, give or take a month.
SEX: Hemaphroditic, typically identifies as male.
HEIGHT: Including his cybernetic mobility chassis, about 5'7” without it, about 4'6”
WEIGHT: With Chassis, about 1500 pounds. Without, in excess of 800.
EYES: Red sclera and yellow irises.
HAIR: No Hair, but his “dreadlocks” are actually a series of neural transmitters and other cybernetic equipment that allows him to operate his mobility chassis.
SKIN: The waxy sort of yellow-green one would expect from a sickly frog.
FORCE SENSITIVE: Thankfully for the rest of the universe, Jeffar has no known force sensitivity.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES :
+ I'm smarter than you look: The Xa Fel's natural talent for machinery combined with Hutt intellect to develop a genius in the arts of machinery and politics. Those are his strong suits.
+ Good luck trying to kill me: He's probably one of the hardiest beings the galaxy in regard to physical harm and toxicity. This was actually the intent of creating him, and in that aspect, it was successful.
+ I feel great, I haven't slept in twenty years: Jeffar does not seem to ever need sleep, or even be capable of it. He's always conscious.
+ I'm a precocious scamp: The cellular regenerative capacity in his Hutt Genomes will extend his lifespan into a few centuries at the minimum, by his own predictions.
+/- It's a blessing and a curse: Jeffar's prodigious weight is an asset in combat sometimes, and a liability some other times.
+/- You have no idea how much this stings: The cybernetic implants are in a constant cycle of rejection and regeneration with his alien imunnopathology. He's basically in a constant state of pain. This increase his pain tolerance well over most people's, but also cause him to have a fairly permanent lack of compassion—who can care for a universe of suffering for centuries? IOt also makes him highly distractible and prone to volatile rages. As of yet, he has not found a drug capable of taking the edge off.
- Must...not....collapse...into...own...mass... : His mutant skeleton and weight are maladapted anatomically. Due to his internal incompatibilities, he has no lower limbs or independent locomotion. He must rely on a cybernetic chassis to maintain any semblance of movement, and even then, it's sluggish. His top speed is a fast walk for most over beings.
- I'm not insane and neither am I: A living being who's entire existence is consumed by continuous pain with no reprieve of shock or unconsciousness from your body internally trying to kill parts of itself and failing. Combine that with two neurological systems that entirely conflict each other, and you have a mind that is warped well beyond conventional sanity.
- I'm ugly and I know it: Jeffar's uniquely disturbing appearance is probably one of the most conspicuous bodies in the galaxy.
- Damn my love of convoluted technology: His Cybernetics allow him mobility and the ability to function. Disable those, and he's just a gigantic paraplegic and a bit of a push over.
- The monster walks: Most Hutts would consider his very existence an abomination. If they knew he was part Hutt. Or that he existed. Or If they could actually look at him without getting freaked out.
APPEARANCE:
I'll give a you a moment to recover. Essentially, if you imagined the largest, ugliest person earth, and strapped that man to a machine that's a mix between between a torture chamber and a deadly combat droid, you'd about have something that made people who knew Jeffar personally cough nervously and excuse themselves from the room.
BIOGRAPHY:
Right, my story. Well, it's complicated. You see, the species of my creator, the Xel Fa, are horribly unlucky. They were normal humans at one point, until Kuat Drive Yards turned their home planet into a smoldering polluted basket of death and plague. Since then all Xel Fa were born with a...blight, for lack of a better term. The planet had become so toxic, that if had mutated our entire species—on a global scale—into sickly, permanently unhealthy beings.
Then, the Gulag Plague came. By some twisted joke, the Xel Fa were mostly immune to the damn thing. Unfortunately, the natural immunity brought even more fear to the Galaxy of them, leading to purges, crazy medical experiments, the whole nine yards. Xel Fa were hated an feared for a long time until the plague faded form memory, and other horrible things happened.
But how does this insanity lead to me? I'm getting there, shaddap. The Xrl Fa retreated to their home planet for a long time, isolating themselves, but those that survived the medical experiments and kidnappings abroad began to tell stories. And, well, even a horror story can have hope for some people.
About 100 years back, a group of Xel Fa scientists began researching ways to find a cure for the species' condition. They tried all kinds of stuff. Forbidden Force Magic, Body transplants, cybernetic consciousness movements, the works. They got nothing.
One guy, Zeryn Ta Kebacc, went to Nar Shaddaa. Started finding Hutts and taking samples, either by force or bribery—whatever was needed. He thought that the Hutt's resistance to polluted, toxic environments would force a beneficial mutation if pushed into a segment of the Xel Fa population.
I'm...as close to success as he ever got. The pain's too much, the suffering is maddening. He killed himself, feeling sorrowful for having made me. I've tried to do myself in twice now. That was a crappy decade. It's been...twenty years since I last tried to die. Now, I'm more interested in getting off this rock. See what the universe has for me. We'll find out.
SHIP:
Not Yet.
