Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Work In Progress Just Another DIV Workshop

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Efren Rizal

BirthplaceCoruscant
Age18
RankJedi Padawan
FactionGalactic Alliance
SpeciesHuman
Force SensitiveYes
Height6'1"
Weight155lb
Hair ColorUnknown
Eye ColorBrown
Efren Rizal is a former criminal and misfit turned Jedi under the tutelage of Valery Noble and has become known for his absurdly wild antics.

THEME
Jessie Reyez & grandson - Rain / DPR LIVE - Diamond + And Pearls
Pusha T & Mako - Misfit Toys / Denzel Curry - Take_it_Back_v2
Nelly Furtado - Maneater / Saweetie (ft. Kehlani) - ICY GRL

PERSONALITY

If you had to describe Efren in four words, it would be ‘hopelessly reckless’ and ‘recklessly stupid.’ He is a sarcastic and teasing madman trapped in the body of an eighteen year-old boy. ‘Consequences’ is not a word in his vocabulary, and as a result, he has a heavy weakness for gambling and unnecessary risk.

Efren’s also a flirt, and shamelessly so. Boys, girls. What’s the harm in courting both? This, of course, has led to him being what some might consider both a ‘player’ and a ‘heartbreaker,’ which has earned him quite a fair share of slaps.

BIOGRAPHY

Efren began his rise to fame through a number of stunts and pranks against wealthy residents of Coruscant’s upper levels. These harmless jokes ranged from recoloring traffic lights in planetary orbit to torching a senator’s luxury model speeder, and from graffiti to straight up arson.

His pranks eventually reached a point where Jedi intervention was demanded, leading to his discovery and, after great trouble, his capture.

Found by Jedi Master Valery Noble, as fate would have it, Efren possessed a strong connection to the Force, the driving reason behind his many escapes. Now, faced with the choice of either prison or indoctrination into the Jedi Order, Efren made the only sensible decision.

He went to prison.

Well, only for a day. Upon realizing his detention center did not offer proper plumbing, Efren had a change of heart and, with some begging on Valery’s part (totally not the other way around), he was soon made her padawan. Thus began his life as a Jedi, and the end of his reign of terror on the rich.

Or was it?
 
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“I’m okay,” Maeve said with a nod. “And I’m ready.”

She moved towards the sealed door, not unaware of the hint of concern in Cale’s voice. Despite the strain between them, he still cared. He still felt she was worth shielding. But what about Maeve? What had she thought, when he first revealed he’d been a Sith in his past life? She’d wasted no time questioning him.

She felt a bit of shame, but again, ignored it. None of that mattered right now. Only Denth.

She pressed her hands against the door inside the broken ship, then let the Force seep into the metal. After a long, indrawn breath, Maeve released, and suddenly the doors exploded from its frame, flying back inside the corvette. A few of the wildmen inside the corridor were instantly smacked aside by it, while the rest recoiled back in surprise.

All that left were the others—this last final stretch before they’d reach Denth’s chambers.

 
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Danton made for Valery’s home, laughing all the while.

The voices were growing stronger. Kill, a chorus of them said. Kill! They screamed at him to fight, to burn, to set the entire forest ablaze along with Val’s miserable little family. His fingers twitched, almost tempted to give in to the thought, but to his own surprise, the Jedi Master beat him to it first.

Flames roared to life just shy from where he stood. He’d been so close—almost to the clearing that led to her home—but no matter. Danton had expected Valery would chase him down before he could make it to her doorstep, and he was more than ready to meet the shouting fury in her eyes. She wanted to fight? Then he would happily oblige.

A dark silhouette against the firelight, he slowly turned to face her. With a sigh, he shook his head and tsked. “That bloodthirsty, are we? How predictable.”

Facing her down, Danton sloughed off his robes and switched on his saber again, bleeding red. Fire danced in his eyes. “I was hoping to get close enough to your family so that they could watch as I killed you, but I suppose that can wait. We don’t need an audience. I just need you.”

He aimed his lightsaber towards her, breaking out in another smile. “Your head, in particular. Now, why don’t you be so kind as to give it to me, for old time’s sake?”

 
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Maeve led Resh down the gravel path like a dog on its leash.

She’d debated long and hard before deciding to let the boy accompany her on a mission outside the temple. He had field experience, but if he was to be her apprentice, she needed him in proper shape, and in the last several agonizing weeks of his training, he’d proven it.

That, and she might’ve also felt a little bad for being absent during that fiasco back in the training hall. Hadn’t been her fault, of course, but she’d been so preoccupied with her own duties, she hadn’t been there when he needed her most.

Well, at least he survived.

“Try not to stare and leave the talking to me,” Maeve told him now as they continued to walk uphill to the secluded house ahead, which was draped in ivy and blooming vines. “We’re not here to intimidate. We’re just here for information. Understood?”

Maeve hadn’t briefed Resh much about the mission, but it was straightforward enough. A lesser Sith was hiding out on Pashvi, a remote planet in the Outer Rim, and it was now their job to root them out. A local herbalist claimed to have intel on them, and all Maeve and Resh needed was to retrieve it. Simple as that.

There was no way it could be any more difficult than that.

Tag​
 
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"Uh, what? I think what you meant to say was—"

Too late. With a dismissive wave, Es'tella returned to paging through her fashion catalogue. Efren was rendered speechless. As he turned to leave her tidy office, he rubbed the back of his head, speaking again only once they'd fallen out of her earshot.

"Man, this sucks."

Efren resisted the urge to pout. He barely even knew how to work a caf machine. A delivery boy he could be, but taking calls? Playing secretary? It sounded monstrously boring and disgustingly sad. He wanted to be on the catwalk. A model, or stylist, or something other than a glorified clerk.

"Oh, whatever," he said. "I'm adaptable. Ya hear what she said about me? She thinks I'm confident. Pretty enough not to need training, either." He nudged Jayce with one elbow. "But hey, man. Lucky you. You got assigned to the beauty department. Maybe next time I see ya, you'll be drenched in blush and mismatched foundation. Who knows, maybe we'll even have matching hair dye?"

His laugh was almost taunting before he turned towards the break room. "Nah, you can leave it up to me to find our Sith. Hell, if Madame Wyntur takes her caf black, she's definitely the one we're looking for."

 
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