Rusken Shaxx
High-Knight
Name: Rusken Shaxx
Faction: Ession Reformation.
Rank: N/A
Species: Epicanthix
Age: N/A, appears to be around his 40's.
Sex: Male
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 153lbs
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Dark brown
Skin: Slightly tan
Force Sensitive: Yes
Force Alignment: Light
Strengths & Weaknesses
+/- Unbound by good deeds: Rusken is totally capable of understanding and asking questions first, but will not hesitate to draw first. Other Jedi may question this and where his intentions lie. His pragmatic nature can make him hard to understand, along with his racial profile.
- A bit rusty: Due to being older, his reflexes aren't what they used to be in his youth.
+ Strength of an old-timer: Through years of labor, practice, and combat, Rusken's experience serves as his physical strength. Though somewhat aged, he can still pack a mean punch.
- I don't need it: Refuses to use fancy, flashy gadgets and prefers the old fashioned way of hands-on trial and error with the Force. This leaves him at a disadvantage when it comes to more technologically advanced foes, but doesn't completely cripple his fighting chances.
+ Dead-eye: Has past experience with firearms, mainly assault rifle variant weapons. if he's not using his lightsaber, he's gunning down whatever comes into his sights.
Appearance
A weather-beaten, rugged older man with a slight tan. Scarred up and tougher than rusted tin-can of rusty nails.(No tetanus here!) Upon his face is a rough stubble that compliments the wrinkles around his eyes, giving the impression of a wise yet dangerous man. He wears a full set of durasteel armor adorned with bits of tattered cloth, fur, and a blackened kilt bearing a red, faded Republic mark.
Biography
Rusken, as a child, was fairly average. His mother and father were nothing short of standing inside a tent on Tatooine selling whatever junk they could salvage from the sands outside their village. Money was money, and they would do whatever to make a handful of credits. A poor family through and through. Rusken never really had many friends and was raised mainly in solitude, suspended in an isolated wonder of what the outside of Tatooine looked like. But instead of such silly notions, the boy was taught to hold a blaster and to guard the stock until either his mother or father came back.
That is, until they didn't come back one afternoon.
The sweltering sun beat down on young Rusken, sweat dripping from his brow as his gaze swept from either side of the village. Making sure none of the other scavengers or merchants made any sudden moves towards his family's merchandise. He began to feel tired, but fought the urge to nod off into sleep. Hours passed by and the sun began to sink behind the horizon of dunes, leaving the boy no choice but to pass out from exhaustion.
-Hours later-
Sounds of ruckus and crashing helped him come to, and he hastily picked himself up from the dirt and swung the rifle towards the direction of the noise. Two cloaked raiders stared the boy down, no other sounds but the whistle of the night winds and the boy's erratic breathing as his finger twitched and tugged at the trigger.
A burst of bolts let loose and hit one of the raiders in the gut, his figure slumping over and crashing into a makeshift table. The other intruder lunged toward the kid, chancing on snapping his neck to keep from alerting anyone nearby who might be a do-gooder. But fate had other work to do, and Rusken's life was not yet meant to end. A traveling Jedi had come to the village for a night's rest, and instead of getting a good night's sleep, he spotted the predicament and rushed to the lad's aid, dispatching the said raider with ease.
Now alone and with nothing else, Rusken looked down at the bodies of the trouble makers and then to the Jedi who seemed more than willing to offer a place for the boy. Somewhere he could learn and thrive.
-Time skip-
Years later, Rusken had earned his mettle and became something akin to a protector. But yet, he was not proud. Infact, he felt nothing at all for the years of debt paid to the Republic for saving his meaningless life out in the deserts of Tatooine. His demeanor had become cold and solid, pragmatic at best but with a twist of fury for the enemies of the Republic. There was no anger, nor any reason to let unsolicited emotion bother him. He was and had simply become something made for war, a gauntlet of the Republic.
Ship: None
Items: Full suit of durasteel battle armor with an air-tight body glove. Helmet includes a filtration device to allow steady combat performance in toxic environments or in the presence of lethal gases.
Weapons include a custom-built lightsaber designed for Vapaad and Soresu, the hilt allows for a full grip intended to help with kinetic attacks and slashes while providing security when it comes to defense. Rusken's secondary weapon is a full-auto assault blaster rifle, standard issue.
Faction: Ession Reformation.
Rank: N/A
Species: Epicanthix
Age: N/A, appears to be around his 40's.
Sex: Male
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 153lbs
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Dark brown
Skin: Slightly tan
Force Sensitive: Yes
Force Alignment: Light
Strengths & Weaknesses
+/- Unbound by good deeds: Rusken is totally capable of understanding and asking questions first, but will not hesitate to draw first. Other Jedi may question this and where his intentions lie. His pragmatic nature can make him hard to understand, along with his racial profile.
- A bit rusty: Due to being older, his reflexes aren't what they used to be in his youth.
+ Strength of an old-timer: Through years of labor, practice, and combat, Rusken's experience serves as his physical strength. Though somewhat aged, he can still pack a mean punch.
- I don't need it: Refuses to use fancy, flashy gadgets and prefers the old fashioned way of hands-on trial and error with the Force. This leaves him at a disadvantage when it comes to more technologically advanced foes, but doesn't completely cripple his fighting chances.
+ Dead-eye: Has past experience with firearms, mainly assault rifle variant weapons. if he's not using his lightsaber, he's gunning down whatever comes into his sights.
Appearance
A weather-beaten, rugged older man with a slight tan. Scarred up and tougher than rusted tin-can of rusty nails.(No tetanus here!) Upon his face is a rough stubble that compliments the wrinkles around his eyes, giving the impression of a wise yet dangerous man. He wears a full set of durasteel armor adorned with bits of tattered cloth, fur, and a blackened kilt bearing a red, faded Republic mark.
Biography
Rusken, as a child, was fairly average. His mother and father were nothing short of standing inside a tent on Tatooine selling whatever junk they could salvage from the sands outside their village. Money was money, and they would do whatever to make a handful of credits. A poor family through and through. Rusken never really had many friends and was raised mainly in solitude, suspended in an isolated wonder of what the outside of Tatooine looked like. But instead of such silly notions, the boy was taught to hold a blaster and to guard the stock until either his mother or father came back.
That is, until they didn't come back one afternoon.
The sweltering sun beat down on young Rusken, sweat dripping from his brow as his gaze swept from either side of the village. Making sure none of the other scavengers or merchants made any sudden moves towards his family's merchandise. He began to feel tired, but fought the urge to nod off into sleep. Hours passed by and the sun began to sink behind the horizon of dunes, leaving the boy no choice but to pass out from exhaustion.
-Hours later-
Sounds of ruckus and crashing helped him come to, and he hastily picked himself up from the dirt and swung the rifle towards the direction of the noise. Two cloaked raiders stared the boy down, no other sounds but the whistle of the night winds and the boy's erratic breathing as his finger twitched and tugged at the trigger.
A burst of bolts let loose and hit one of the raiders in the gut, his figure slumping over and crashing into a makeshift table. The other intruder lunged toward the kid, chancing on snapping his neck to keep from alerting anyone nearby who might be a do-gooder. But fate had other work to do, and Rusken's life was not yet meant to end. A traveling Jedi had come to the village for a night's rest, and instead of getting a good night's sleep, he spotted the predicament and rushed to the lad's aid, dispatching the said raider with ease.
Now alone and with nothing else, Rusken looked down at the bodies of the trouble makers and then to the Jedi who seemed more than willing to offer a place for the boy. Somewhere he could learn and thrive.
-Time skip-
Years later, Rusken had earned his mettle and became something akin to a protector. But yet, he was not proud. Infact, he felt nothing at all for the years of debt paid to the Republic for saving his meaningless life out in the deserts of Tatooine. His demeanor had become cold and solid, pragmatic at best but with a twist of fury for the enemies of the Republic. There was no anger, nor any reason to let unsolicited emotion bother him. He was and had simply become something made for war, a gauntlet of the Republic.
Ship: None
Items: Full suit of durasteel battle armor with an air-tight body glove. Helmet includes a filtration device to allow steady combat performance in toxic environments or in the presence of lethal gases.
Weapons include a custom-built lightsaber designed for Vapaad and Soresu, the hilt allows for a full grip intended to help with kinetic attacks and slashes while providing security when it comes to defense. Rusken's secondary weapon is a full-auto assault blaster rifle, standard issue.
