Orlong Bann
New Member
NAME: Orlong Bann.
FACTION: Mandalorian Clans.
RANK: None.
SPECIES: Human.
AGE: 14.
SEX: Male.
HEIGHT: 5'1".
WEIGHT: 125lbs.
EYES: Hazel.
HAIR: Red/auburn.
SKIN: Neutral Caucasian.
FORCE SENSITIVE: Currently unknown.
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STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES:
Strengths: Combat training (hand-to-hand, open hand & weapons, basic marksmanship), basic field medicine training, basic stealth training, and a strong faith in the Mando way of life.
Weaknesses: Well, he's missing an arm, has severe PTSD and survivor's guilt from, y'know, watching his family die and thinking he was dying too (triggers as yet unknown), and he doesn't trust his own mind and memories ever since the doctors told him "We don't know how extensively your brain was damaged." Enviable, right?
APPEARANCE:
Cute, maybe? Leave that to the girls. He's short because he's a late bloomer, but he's already packed on a fair stretch of sinew, and it shows. Nor is it pointless gym-meat; this is the strength of competence and hard work, the kind that comes from simple life. His face is hairless (he's still young), and a stretch of scar tissue stretches along his right side and up to his scalp, giving him a more permanent version of those trendy side-shave haircuts. The surgeons had to shave his head for surgery anyway, so it'll be a while before his normal coppery hair returns. He has no armor yet, and so wears simple clothes in unremarkable colors, with a vibroknife and various pouches on his belt.
BIOGRAPHY:
A wise man once said "The injustices of the world can be summed up in three words: children are dying." Try to find a better definition if you can, but it'll take you a while. Orlong's seen injustice - seen it blow up right in his face. He grew up simple, by the Resol'nare and his papa's best efforts, and he was a good kid; but no matter how simple your life, when fate decides to kark you over, all you can do is hope it uses lube. He was fourteen, neither youngest nor oldest in his family, and it was his birthday.
Have you ever looked down at your hands and found your sister's blood on them? How about spitting out chunks of big brother's skull, or trying to scream around a double lungful of vaporized entrails? Orlong can tell you about it all, in more detail than you likely ever wanted to hear. They're the few things about that day that he can still remember, which just goes to show that fate likes it long and deep. Fate got its money shot with a last explosion in Orlong's face, a sudden feeling of cold in his arm, and empty night. When he wakes up, who knows what he'll find.
SHIP: None.
KILLS: None. Yet.
BOUNTIES COLLECTED: None. Yet.
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ROLE-PLAYS: None yet.
FACTION: Mandalorian Clans.
RANK: None.
SPECIES: Human.
AGE: 14.
SEX: Male.
HEIGHT: 5'1".
WEIGHT: 125lbs.
EYES: Hazel.
HAIR: Red/auburn.
SKIN: Neutral Caucasian.
FORCE SENSITIVE: Currently unknown.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES:
Strengths: Combat training (hand-to-hand, open hand & weapons, basic marksmanship), basic field medicine training, basic stealth training, and a strong faith in the Mando way of life.
Weaknesses: Well, he's missing an arm, has severe PTSD and survivor's guilt from, y'know, watching his family die and thinking he was dying too (triggers as yet unknown), and he doesn't trust his own mind and memories ever since the doctors told him "We don't know how extensively your brain was damaged." Enviable, right?
APPEARANCE:
Cute, maybe? Leave that to the girls. He's short because he's a late bloomer, but he's already packed on a fair stretch of sinew, and it shows. Nor is it pointless gym-meat; this is the strength of competence and hard work, the kind that comes from simple life. His face is hairless (he's still young), and a stretch of scar tissue stretches along his right side and up to his scalp, giving him a more permanent version of those trendy side-shave haircuts. The surgeons had to shave his head for surgery anyway, so it'll be a while before his normal coppery hair returns. He has no armor yet, and so wears simple clothes in unremarkable colors, with a vibroknife and various pouches on his belt.
BIOGRAPHY:
A wise man once said "The injustices of the world can be summed up in three words: children are dying." Try to find a better definition if you can, but it'll take you a while. Orlong's seen injustice - seen it blow up right in his face. He grew up simple, by the Resol'nare and his papa's best efforts, and he was a good kid; but no matter how simple your life, when fate decides to kark you over, all you can do is hope it uses lube. He was fourteen, neither youngest nor oldest in his family, and it was his birthday.
Have you ever looked down at your hands and found your sister's blood on them? How about spitting out chunks of big brother's skull, or trying to scream around a double lungful of vaporized entrails? Orlong can tell you about it all, in more detail than you likely ever wanted to hear. They're the few things about that day that he can still remember, which just goes to show that fate likes it long and deep. Fate got its money shot with a last explosion in Orlong's face, a sudden feeling of cold in his arm, and empty night. When he wakes up, who knows what he'll find.
SHIP: None.
KILLS: None. Yet.
BOUNTIES COLLECTED: None. Yet.
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ROLE-PLAYS: None yet.
