Character
NAME: Rexus
FACTION: One Sith
RANK: Padawan
SPECIES: Sith ( Pureblood )
AGE: 27
SEX: Male
HEIGHT: 7'5"
WEIGHT: 325lbs
EYES: Yellow
HAIR: None
SKIN: Crimson
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES (Required: 2 Weaknesses Minimum) :
+Peak physical strength.
+Experienced pit fighter/gladiator.
+Strong force sensitivity. ( racial )
+Long reach
+Survivor
+/- A symbiotic relationship with the Dark Side allows Rexus to draw sustenance or sustain himself with it. As a result of this however, Rexus is unable to hide or conceal what he truly is.
-Arrogant
-A wound from a slave revolt left Rexus with severe wounds. As a result of said wounds, Rexus is forced to wear a respirator on the lower half of his face.
-Rexus tires himself out at a faster pace than others due to his damaged lungs.
-Should his respirator go offline or break, Rexus will die if aid or repairs aren't rendered quickly enough.
-Poor pilot
-Impatient
-Slow and cumbersome due to size
APPEARANCE:
A few words that can describe Rexus when it comes to appearance would be monstrous, fiendish, and devil among other things. Standing at seven and a half feet, Rexus is larger and more heavily built than most other humanoid sentient beings. As a pureblooded Sith, Rexus is possessed of a crimson skin color and a set of eerie yellow eyes. Two bone spurs jut out from the area just above the eyes in what is a crude parody of eye brows. A respirator covers the lower half of the his face due to a wound received during a revolt. Rexus usually dons a black sleeveless tunic, bracers, black trousers, and boots.
BIOGRAPHY:
Rexus was a Sith born to two parents he would have the distinct pleasure of never knowing. What befell a young Rexus in his first years are something not known, even to him. His earliest memories were of a life of pain and hardship, his childhood knowing no real home as he was passed from slaver to slaver. The only true constant in Rexus' life were pain, hate, and an unhealthy desire for revenge.
As the Sith progressed from his years as a youngling into those of a teenager, he was isolated from his fellow slaves. While Rexus often spent time as an outcast among his fellow slaves, he could tell this was different. Originally, The fellow slaves simply kept him at bay due to his appearance. They spoke in whispered tones about how the childs red skin was an omen and that his existence was a blight upon their own. The overseers themselves were the ones who had Rexus separated and it was at this point in time that Rexus began to travel the dark path.
Rexus was trained to be nothing more than a glorified killer that murdered people for the enjoyment of others. Trained in the gladiatorial combat for over a decade, Rexus was a fan favorite among the pit fighters. None of the others could match the size and strength he was now known for. Additionally, the force itself would sustain Rexus and allow him to perform incredible albeit brief feats of strength and power. It was around the time that Rexus had reached the peak of his popularity that events would irrevocably alter life as he knew it.
Fresh out of a match, Rexus had retired to his pen for a meager bout of rest. There he was approached by a slave who was oddly unafraid of him. The slave went into detail about how the meeting cost him and the other slaves a great deal to engineer. He spoke of a revolt and oddly enough, a desire to have Rexus assist them. He spoke carefully and refrained from speaking of how a better life was among the benefits they could all receive. No, what truly got Rexus to consider and ultimately agree to was the utterance of one word.
Vengeance.
The word welled up within Rexus like a storm that knew no limits. It brought honeyed visions of sweet unadulterated violence being delivered upon the overseers. Rexus would agree to the slaves proposition and with that, the seeds of revolt were sowed. Preparations were being made in the background while Rexus was left to hold his spot in the limelight. The fights Rexus participated in grew even more violent and depraved all to simply keep the overseers delighted. Eventually, during a grand tournament held for a reason Rexus didn't care to remember, the revolt that was so carefully planned would begin. There were shouts, explosions, the sound of blaster and small arms fire, and an assortment of similar distractions.
Having just killed an opponent, Rexus heard and saw the revolt kick off. He immediately charged the nearest exit and made his way to the nearest guard. The man was maybe six feet in height, not nearly as tall nor as muscled as Rexus. The guard attempted to raise his blaster only to find himself cleaved in two by the incredibly crude, bladed weapon Rexus carried with him. Grabbing the blaster, Rexus made for the one place he was told to go by the slave that had approached him earlier. The shuttle pad. The overseers were most likely going to retreat there and it was there that Rexus would exact his revenge.
The slaves weren't as well armed or armored as the guards but the slaves had a distinct advantage in the form of numbers. By the time Rexus made his way to the shuttle pad, the slaves were overrunning the last vestiges of overseer resistance. Worked into a frenzy, Rexus cut down two of the guards with the blaster and a third with the blade. The overseers or what was left of them quickly piled into the shuttle that was quickly spooling up for a hasty take off. As Rexus strode towards it, he took a blaster round to the stomach, his armor mitigating some but not all of the damage. Rexus quickly cut down the attacker only to watch on impotently as the shuttle began it's take off. Rage. Pure unbridled rage burnt like a sun within Rexus as the ship began to leave him. If only he had been there a moment or two faster. It was then that, with great difficulty, Rexus caught glimpse of something bright headed right for the ship. It wasn't like a blaster bolt and as it soared only a few feet overhead, Rexus was finally able to identify it. A rocket.
The explosion was incredible. It took Rexus right off his feet and sent him flying backward. As he came to, his every breath was alight with a level of pain he had never experienced before. The arena taught him pain in a multitude of ways but nothing could compare to this. The lower half of his face allowed a sickening, burnt aroma to waft upward and into his nose. As his vision cleared, Rexus could see the slave who had recruited him now standing over him. He held out a hand in an act of compassion that was utterly futile. Rexus took the gesture of peace with one hand while the other took up one of violence. As he was helped up, Rexus took hold of his blade and ran it through the slave leader.
The slaves had taken the one thing that Rexus had truly wanted. He murdered many of them as he gave into his rage and hatred utterly. While he had handled it in the past, he was now letting it consume him. As he butchered his fellows, Rexus felt his injury hurt less and less, something he found solace in. At the end of the massacre, Rexus wandered from the compound, his senses lost to the rage. He had nothing. He was nothing. The Sith wandered for two entire days before finally receiving medical attention. After an agonizing time spent in surgery, Rexus was outfitted with a respirator that he would have to wear for the rest of his life.
Rexus would eventually make his way off world and, upon hearing of the Sith and their ways, resolved to seek them out.
SHIP:
KILLS:
BOUNTIES COLLECTED:
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ROLE-PLAYS:
FACTION: One Sith
RANK: Padawan
SPECIES: Sith ( Pureblood )
AGE: 27
SEX: Male
HEIGHT: 7'5"
WEIGHT: 325lbs
EYES: Yellow
HAIR: None
SKIN: Crimson
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES (Required: 2 Weaknesses Minimum) :
+Peak physical strength.
+Experienced pit fighter/gladiator.
+Strong force sensitivity. ( racial )
+Long reach
+Survivor
+/- A symbiotic relationship with the Dark Side allows Rexus to draw sustenance or sustain himself with it. As a result of this however, Rexus is unable to hide or conceal what he truly is.
-Arrogant
-A wound from a slave revolt left Rexus with severe wounds. As a result of said wounds, Rexus is forced to wear a respirator on the lower half of his face.
-Rexus tires himself out at a faster pace than others due to his damaged lungs.
-Should his respirator go offline or break, Rexus will die if aid or repairs aren't rendered quickly enough.
-Poor pilot
-Impatient
-Slow and cumbersome due to size
APPEARANCE:
A few words that can describe Rexus when it comes to appearance would be monstrous, fiendish, and devil among other things. Standing at seven and a half feet, Rexus is larger and more heavily built than most other humanoid sentient beings. As a pureblooded Sith, Rexus is possessed of a crimson skin color and a set of eerie yellow eyes. Two bone spurs jut out from the area just above the eyes in what is a crude parody of eye brows. A respirator covers the lower half of the his face due to a wound received during a revolt. Rexus usually dons a black sleeveless tunic, bracers, black trousers, and boots.
BIOGRAPHY:
Rexus was a Sith born to two parents he would have the distinct pleasure of never knowing. What befell a young Rexus in his first years are something not known, even to him. His earliest memories were of a life of pain and hardship, his childhood knowing no real home as he was passed from slaver to slaver. The only true constant in Rexus' life were pain, hate, and an unhealthy desire for revenge.
As the Sith progressed from his years as a youngling into those of a teenager, he was isolated from his fellow slaves. While Rexus often spent time as an outcast among his fellow slaves, he could tell this was different. Originally, The fellow slaves simply kept him at bay due to his appearance. They spoke in whispered tones about how the childs red skin was an omen and that his existence was a blight upon their own. The overseers themselves were the ones who had Rexus separated and it was at this point in time that Rexus began to travel the dark path.
Rexus was trained to be nothing more than a glorified killer that murdered people for the enjoyment of others. Trained in the gladiatorial combat for over a decade, Rexus was a fan favorite among the pit fighters. None of the others could match the size and strength he was now known for. Additionally, the force itself would sustain Rexus and allow him to perform incredible albeit brief feats of strength and power. It was around the time that Rexus had reached the peak of his popularity that events would irrevocably alter life as he knew it.
Fresh out of a match, Rexus had retired to his pen for a meager bout of rest. There he was approached by a slave who was oddly unafraid of him. The slave went into detail about how the meeting cost him and the other slaves a great deal to engineer. He spoke of a revolt and oddly enough, a desire to have Rexus assist them. He spoke carefully and refrained from speaking of how a better life was among the benefits they could all receive. No, what truly got Rexus to consider and ultimately agree to was the utterance of one word.
Vengeance.
The word welled up within Rexus like a storm that knew no limits. It brought honeyed visions of sweet unadulterated violence being delivered upon the overseers. Rexus would agree to the slaves proposition and with that, the seeds of revolt were sowed. Preparations were being made in the background while Rexus was left to hold his spot in the limelight. The fights Rexus participated in grew even more violent and depraved all to simply keep the overseers delighted. Eventually, during a grand tournament held for a reason Rexus didn't care to remember, the revolt that was so carefully planned would begin. There were shouts, explosions, the sound of blaster and small arms fire, and an assortment of similar distractions.
Having just killed an opponent, Rexus heard and saw the revolt kick off. He immediately charged the nearest exit and made his way to the nearest guard. The man was maybe six feet in height, not nearly as tall nor as muscled as Rexus. The guard attempted to raise his blaster only to find himself cleaved in two by the incredibly crude, bladed weapon Rexus carried with him. Grabbing the blaster, Rexus made for the one place he was told to go by the slave that had approached him earlier. The shuttle pad. The overseers were most likely going to retreat there and it was there that Rexus would exact his revenge.
The slaves weren't as well armed or armored as the guards but the slaves had a distinct advantage in the form of numbers. By the time Rexus made his way to the shuttle pad, the slaves were overrunning the last vestiges of overseer resistance. Worked into a frenzy, Rexus cut down two of the guards with the blaster and a third with the blade. The overseers or what was left of them quickly piled into the shuttle that was quickly spooling up for a hasty take off. As Rexus strode towards it, he took a blaster round to the stomach, his armor mitigating some but not all of the damage. Rexus quickly cut down the attacker only to watch on impotently as the shuttle began it's take off. Rage. Pure unbridled rage burnt like a sun within Rexus as the ship began to leave him. If only he had been there a moment or two faster. It was then that, with great difficulty, Rexus caught glimpse of something bright headed right for the ship. It wasn't like a blaster bolt and as it soared only a few feet overhead, Rexus was finally able to identify it. A rocket.
The explosion was incredible. It took Rexus right off his feet and sent him flying backward. As he came to, his every breath was alight with a level of pain he had never experienced before. The arena taught him pain in a multitude of ways but nothing could compare to this. The lower half of his face allowed a sickening, burnt aroma to waft upward and into his nose. As his vision cleared, Rexus could see the slave who had recruited him now standing over him. He held out a hand in an act of compassion that was utterly futile. Rexus took the gesture of peace with one hand while the other took up one of violence. As he was helped up, Rexus took hold of his blade and ran it through the slave leader.
The slaves had taken the one thing that Rexus had truly wanted. He murdered many of them as he gave into his rage and hatred utterly. While he had handled it in the past, he was now letting it consume him. As he butchered his fellows, Rexus felt his injury hurt less and less, something he found solace in. At the end of the massacre, Rexus wandered from the compound, his senses lost to the rage. He had nothing. He was nothing. The Sith wandered for two entire days before finally receiving medical attention. After an agonizing time spent in surgery, Rexus was outfitted with a respirator that he would have to wear for the rest of his life.
Rexus would eventually make his way off world and, upon hearing of the Sith and their ways, resolved to seek them out.
SHIP:
KILLS:
BOUNTIES COLLECTED:
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ROLE-PLAYS:
Last edited:
