Aver Brand
Mercicle
OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION
Intent: Expand Point Nadir.
Image Credit: 020611https://torei.deviantart.com/art/020611-211256563 by torei
Role: Head of Security for Erida Teheron
Links: Nadir, Point Nadir, Heaven Upside Down, Erida Teheron
Age: Middle-aged
Force Sensitivity: Untrained
Species: Vultan
Appearance: Clean shaven only because he doesn’t have a choice – his spiritual beard is a perpetual five o’clock shadow. Out of armor, he always wears the latest and greatest in fashion, and you can tell he spends most of his (substantial) salary on the clothes instead of food. Never leaves home without the fanciest shades on the market, though this is purely for the benefit of others – eyes of pure white tend to freak people out more than a fully automatic rifle.
That’s Nadir for ya.
Name: Veslan Kojak
Loyalties: Nadir, Erida Teheron
Wealth: Well-off for a grunt
Notable Possessions: A selection of wardrobe most women would kill for; a vast collection of Holovids; a gold ring he doesn’t wear.
Skills:
Can guess the culprit of any crime-solving Holovid in the first ten minutes of the movie- Destroys your grandma at knitting
- A brutal and unforgiving player of Scrabble
[*]
Personality: Contrary to what one might rightfully expect from an enforcer working on Nadir, for Nadir, Veslan is quite the affable man.
Oh, you want more?
Mr. Kojak is polite, well-mannered, and capable of putting a blaster bolt between the eyes of his foe at a hundred paces in cold blood.
He is well-loved and respected among his colleagues, a role model for his underlings, and a trusted lieutenant to his employer. In another life, Veslan might’ve been an entertainer – he enjoys putting a smile even on a passing face, and will often make conversation with his fellows simply to know them better.
COMBAT INFORMATION
Weapon of Choice: P- and E-series Nadir products. #JobPerks
Combat Function:
Brain: One doesn’t simply earn the position of Head of Security for Erida Teheron. Kojak is a genius compared to the average thug, well-versed in defusing situations that might otherwise turn violent. He’s a master of the spoken word and will give even a posh banker a run for his money in terms of scathing wit. With a capacity for both strategic and tactical thinking, he’s a force to be reckoned with.
Not brawn: Compared to some of the muscle elbowing through the streets of Point Nadir, Veslan has the constitution of a twig. What he lacks in strength he makes up for in speed, however, light on his feet and more than capable of maneuvering circles around bigger, bulkier opponents.
Past his prime: Veslan is no spring chicken, and it’s only more pronounced when he goes toe-to-toe with the fresh meat off the streets, lads full of piss and vinegar and the need to prove themselves. In straight fight, any youngster with a good right hook and solid aim can beat him. Good thing fights on Nadir are always crooked, innit?
Veslan Kojak had a dream. In this star-studded vision, Kojak is a name toted up and down on hovering catwalks; hung like a solid gold trophy off of scintillating garments and attached to an absurd price tag; adorning the svelte bodies of interstellar celebrities, musicians, and politicians alike. A loved name. A coveted name.
As this dream gathers dust in the attic of his mind, Veslan instead works arduous, but well-paid shifts for one Erida Teheron. He comes home to a smiling zeltron wife, Saida, and their two children – Gerryc and Anita, who both cry daddy and cling to his neck like two monkey-lizards.
Perhaps one day, ten or twenty years from now, he will wake, heart hammering in his chest, and wonder Who the hell was all this for? – when Gerryc is ‘just like you, dad’, on Nadir payroll, taking lives; when Anita is earning credits on her back in the Red rooms of the Tower, screaming behind her thin smile; when Saida’s all fed up with his long hours and hollow promises and hitches a ride up to the Stardome on the arm of some criminal fat cat chomping a cigarra bigger than his—
Veslan sits up in his bed, drenched in sweat.
He’s forty, his apartment is empty, and his dream is dead.
