Ari Vox
I thought this was America, huh?!
ARI VOX
THEME - BATTLE
PHYSICAL INFORMATION
NAME
ARI VOX
SPECIES
Epicanthix
AGE
26
SEX
FEMALE
SEXUALITY
ASEXUAL
HEIGHT
5'4"
WEIGHT
120LBS
BUILD
SLIM
PLAYBY
RACHEL MCADAMS AS ANI BEZZERIDES
EYES
HAZEL
HAIR
BROWN ROOTS WITH BLONDE DIPPED TIPS
SKIN
PALE
BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION
FORCE SENSITIVE
YES; UNAWARE
STRENGTHS
UNCHAINED
Whether it's a result of - or a catalyst for - her mercenary lifestyle is yet to be seen, but Ari has few family members and fewer friends. Alienation from those she draws near seems to be a running trend in Ari's life. Whether it's a series of sharply worded criticisms or blatant insults, she seems to do it to herself and in many ways, she sees her solitude as a form of protection, both for herself and for others in the likely scenario of her death on some obscure killing field, fighting over a tract of land she'd never before stepped foot on.
RESILIENT
A tough chin is what a fighter really needs, and Ari has a next level constitution that allows her to sustain blows normally reserved for much larger foes. A childhood of abuse and neglect could be pointed out as a source of this, a lifetime spent in the teachings and application of combatives could be another. Whatever the cause of her legendary constitution, Ari puts it constantly to the test. Whether out in the muck and mire slugging through a hellish warzone, or sparring with an ally in a makeshift martial dojo, she always puts her strengths to the test. Sweat when you train or bleed when you fight.
PROFICIENT
Owing much to her aforementioned childhood of pain and discipline, the girl has a knack for learning new and interesting ways to kill, maim, and injure a wide variety of things in the Universe. Meshing an aptitude for learning and a feeling of 'Never Good Enough' Ari has retained a list of skills and proficiencies that would make most other battle-hardened men cringe and stutter. Though most of these skills find their application on the battlefield, they have altogether moved Ari into a different status as an individual. Attentive, dextrously efficient, the girl is a wizard at most things she puts her mind to.
ATTUNED
Going from her early childhood, as early as she could remember anyway, to the present day was never an easy task for the young woman and though she has faced countless trials and tribulations, many with life ending consequences, she has endured and persevered. As a result, Ari has come to know exactly where her physical and mental abilities extend, and how to push past them into the realm of heroic possibilities. It shows in the way she carries herself - shoulders back and head-up, eyes keenly predatory and muscles loose but always prepared.
WEAKNESSES
HAUNTED
Ari dreads her sleep to the degree that she will remain awake for countless hours at a time to avoid it, often to the point of near exhaustion. Marred by a mixture of unforgettably brutal memories and painful mistakes of her past, Ari often wakes from sleep in a cold sweat and with a shortness of breath as her memories cloud over the dreams of the night. Faces, words, tactile sensations waft her endlessly, sometimes even when she is not asleep at all. For some such hallucinations would be cause for alarm, to Ari it is simply her daily grind. A karmic hindrance drawn by her penchant for violence.
FATALISTIC
While the young woman may not put any real faith in any particular set of beliefs pertaining to Gods or morality, she believes in her core that the actions of the Universe are not random occurrences of good or evil, but that everything happens as it should and that nothing can inevitably be done once the outcome has been made. That's not to say she won't try to sway things, after all Ari is a piece of the Universe and entitled to try. Some may call this an act of hypocrisy, Ari just calls it 'The Human Condition'.
JUNKIE
While adrenaline is her main fix, Ari is afflicted with the desire for more when it comes to anything. More food, more pain, more work, more time, and even the smatterings of times when she has loved and been loved - those too, she desired more of. For the most part, Ari finds relief on the battlefield or in the hunt where she can release the part of her that she hones to a razor's edge and let instinct and basic animalistic predation take control of her body.
APPEARANCE
COMBAT
The suit was recently sprayed with a coating of sapphire and touched with silver trim, the two traditional colours of Clan Vox, and a sign to those she encounters of her past and present allegiances. Of a Clan once vast and mighty cast to the back pages of history, and the warrior who stands as their sole descendant.
NON-COMBAT
One may be taken back by Ari's stunning beauty; from her full figured body down to her naturally pouty lips and wildly expressive eyes the young Vox has everything needed to make men and women alike submit to her whims. Yet it's this very beauty, along with her teachings, that keeps her from keeping her armour doffed for any real extendable time. When away from her ship, or other secured and private abodes, she will almost always be fully geared with the odd time taken to remove her helmet and gloves.
BIOGRAPHY
BORN AND RAISED
Ari Vox never knew her mother and grew to loathe her father - a man who'd won small renown in the gladiatorial arenas of Groth. It was here that her earliest memories formed, not of eccentric school projects and witty groups of friends, but of an impoverished home life and a violent world around her. Compounding these issues was her father's repeatedly violent outbursts, a condition he was well aware of, and though he was not much of a teacher he took to showing his only daughter what he could to protect her from others, and most notably himself.
Having grown himself on the planet Panatha, Ari's father passed on the teachings he could remember and the methods he still used in the brutal battles he engaged in for the bloodlust of others. All in all, it wasn't much, he was old and tired from a lifetime of constant struggle, Ari could see the fading in his eyes and the thinning of his skin as she grew older and stronger, but the lessons were a welcome addition to her scarce curriculum. The teachings of her people, of lessons born on a planet she thought she'd never see, those were the real gems she took from those days.
By the age of ten, she was a better fighter than most others her age and went about discovering more of the trade in which her father made his money. For children, such learnings were not always difficult, and her lessons in martial prowess were aided by the coaching of another gladiator, a former Mandalorian by the name of Thor Vox. It was Thor, Champion of Groth, who trained Ari into the woman she is today.
Blasters, polearms, knives, even explosives, the Mandalorian was well acquainted with all, and being an old seasoned vet he shared his wisdom with the young child like he never could with his kin. Kept from his family and forced to fight for survival, Thor had lost his hope at a future beyond the confines of Groth. For Ari these teachings came with the wisdom of the Mando, and the cultural identity inherent in all Mandalorians. With time, the two had formed a bond that pushed aside her familial ties to her own father. Thor and Ari were kin, Father and Daughter at last.
Ari's father had despised this. Thor, to him, was a competitor and a target, and the simple fact that the grown man and his young daughter were so close over such a thing as the art of warfare was beyond his ability to comprehend. It all came to a boil on Ari's fourteenth birthday. Her father, drunk off a night of revelry and carousing returned home with a simmering rage that had been edging through his conscience for hours unabated. Their home was little more than a hole in the wall, a squatter's retreat and a place where no child should have to live. Ari was reading on the history of the Mandalorian people, nursing the wounds she'd received earlier in training, and eyed her father's arrival with a weary disdain.
Their eyes locked and the fight was on. Words gave way to fury, anything within reach was liable to be smashed by either party as the escalation intensified. But when her father made the move she'd seen so many times before, a simple shift in his posture and a flinch in his shoulder, she made the move first. Using a technique that Thor himself had shown her, Ari snapped up an open palm and struck her father's trachea with such force that the windpipe collapsed and he staggered backwards, wheezing and clutching at the dent in his neck.
Ari was stunned, frozen in place as the man before her crumbled. A decade or more of forced subjugation, of near daily violence and constant belittlement all leading up to this one final action. Her hand felt nothing, the mere act of the blow was like swatting a fly, and yet her nightmarish tormenter now writhed and choked and cried out in agony as his horrible life flashed before his eyes. To the child's ears the sounds were horrible, her first real exposure to what the killing fields would resemble. It seemed likely her first kill would be the same man who'd created her.
With the teachings of the strike, Thor had made sure to instruct Ari on the righting of the damage. A simple procedure for this day and age, though something that in a millennia past would have been impossible for the average person. She drew the one weapon she carried at all times, a needle-shaped blade from the inside of her boot, and prying first one then the other of her father's clutching hands away from his throat, she mounted his chest with all the weight she could muster and made to pierce his throat just above his collarbone.
Beady black eyes incensed yet fearful watched up from the hollows of her father's dying face, panicked spasms receding as his eyelids fluttered and his brain began to shut down. With a gentle pressure, she pierced his windpipe and fed through the hole a small straw she'd found lying nearby. Her father would live, albeit shortly if no real medical aid were to be found.
Such an act of extreme violence had surely spelt the end of her life here. Thor had told her of the planet's she'd only ever read about, his first-hand knowledge bringing their beauty to life like no picture or word possibly could. Coruscant heart of the Galaxy, Alderaan the literal planet of beauty, the forests of Kashyyyk, she wanted to see them all. And so she packed her meagre belongings as her father wheezed and watched like a cage and cornered animal. Blood lay fresh on her needle-like blade, a reminder when it caught the light of the shift in the power of this simple Groth household.
At the door, she didn't stop. Didn't bid farewell or even look at her father, she just passed on through and into a new life. Unburdened for the first time in her life and hopeful for the future that was waiting to unfold.
ESCAPE AND EVASION
Beholden to a being much more powerful than himself, Thor was a prisoner on the planet of Groth and fought tooth and nail in the arenas for his life and security. Status as a Champion brought with it many luxuries, his training of Ari had been one such frill, but to the young girl he'd taken under his wing, Thor was all-powerful and wise beyond the floating orb they'd found themselves upon.
She made haste from her home, trekked through the slums and arrived at Thor's 'prison' in the middle of the night. The ludus was guarded by mercenaries, men commission by Thor's master to keep his valuable fighters from absconding into the city at large. Through her nearly constant visits, Ari had made acquaintances with almost all of the guards. Though she was no normally affable teenager, it was hard for people to see the predator that lay within her.
Slipping into the ludus was easy for her, a simple act of deceptive charisma and she'd managed to convince one of the guards to admit her entry. Thor was asleep, but awoke as she entered his chambers. There was no greeting, the guards would've entered with the intent of waking him, and others knew better than to disturb his solitude. Still, the girl stood stoically by the door, eyes adjusting to the blackness of the room where no light found entry and the hum of the outside world paled through the walls. Thor too was still, their gentle breathing giving away their presence to one another.
"Buir," Wimpered Ari, using the tongue that Thor himself had taught her, to label him as her father though they had not yet spoken of such things. He shifted in his bed and the girl felt the air change as the towering man rose to his feet and covered the distance between them with broad, confident steps. When he was close enough for each other to see their soft silhouettes, for each other's scents to waft each other's senses, for Thor to see the salt lines of tears as they streaked down her cheek, he knew then what had to be done.
For years he had been preparing, the time spent in between training and maintenance used wisely to craft his escape. Weapons and gear were readied and an escape craft was appropriated. They moved with the grace of professionals, silently plying their craft as they cut through the guards they couldn't slip past and made their way into the local streets. Blood from the guards joined the blood of her father on her beautifully crafted blade, while Thor stayed unarmed and cut through the men with his bare hands and fists. Outside the ludus there were Mandalorians waiting, hiding in plain sight with the residents of the neighbourhood who received a signal that Thor created and readied their people to escape. In total three ships left Groth that night, more than a dozen mercenaries slaughtered and not a single alarm was sounded.
ARMED AND DANGEROUS
During the escape from Groth, Ari was introduced to a partial number of Clan Vox, the family she was now officially a part of. Thor's spouse met them on the ship they fled upon, a powerfully built woman made all the more intimidating by the nearly ancient Mandalorian armour she wore, painted with a blue-base and silver trim, the colours of Clan Vox she greeted her husband with all of the quiet reserves that a warrior of her stature could muster. Of course, she knew who Ari was, the Clan had been monitoring their patriarch for many months and watched as he trained and raised the newest member of their clan.
Protests had been raised, not over Ari or her abilities, but over the fact that Thor postponed his own escape for so long to remain on Groth and nurture this child who he'd never known before. Such was the nature of the Mandalorians however, and the protests were squashed in quick succession such that when the escape finally came, none questioned the timing. Now the time had come for The Patriarch to man his throne, and soon he would speak before a gathering of his people to tell and to hear of all that had happened since he had left.
It was near Nar Shaddaa that the armada met, all ships who pledged allegiance to Clan Vox were present and their numbers swelled from dozens to over a hundred. Thousands of warriors stood in their fleet of ships, humbled by the image that greeted all of their screens as Thor broadcast his image to them all entirely. He was thinner, harder, with more scars and sunken eyes and a face that reflected the trauma of hundreds of days in brutal combat. It inspired the men and women alike, children awed at the power that radiated from him even on their holograms, he was like a God-King to this smorgasbord of warriors, this family which he led.
"Today we fight, tomorrow we fight, and every day until the end of our days - together we will fight. Glory does not come to those who wait, the glory goes to those who win," Contained within their vacuum insulated steel contraptions, floating all around Thor's main vessel, came the thunderous roar of approval. All had been waiting for this very moment, from the second that the Clan had ventured forth into the frontiers, and now they would claim their destiny and leave their undying mark upon the pages of Galactic history.
So The Clan ventured off, to seek glory and rewards from those they deemed worthy of their attention. Behind the scenes, Thor made deals with the Hutts who had turned a blind eye to his escape, conquered those the Hutts were displeased with and generally ran amok as the Galaxy plunged ever deeper into its ever continuous struggle between good and evil. Ari was gifted her armour not long after the fleet began their raids. Stood in the vanguard on dozens of missions and found blaster bolts and flechette rounds greeting her at every turn.
Scars became scarred, limbs were mangled and parts of her body were forever replaced with cybernetic pieces, all in the pursuit of the honour her 'father' had bestowed them. Battlefields grew and the Clans numbers waned, bodies replaced with fresh recruits they'd pick up from the ashes of the planets they assaulted. They honoured the rules of the Mandalorian, but increasingly found themselves pushing the envelope. Children were never stolen, bought perhaps for 'their own benefit' and recruits were tried but frequently succumbed on the fields they first lay siege to. Then came the Netherworld Incident and the Galaxy changed forever.
GONE AND REPLACED
With the Netherworld Incident came the disappearance of billions. Galactic Factions vyying for control just the moments before now sat in almost near silence as the Galaxy shook beneath the turbulence of the event. Clan Vox was no exception, their thousands of members had been decimated to just a few hundred, an armada of ships now cast aside without sufficient crew to man them. What's more was the toll on the command elements of the Clan itself, the hierarchy itself had shifted and the God-King himself, Thor Vox, was one of the missing in action.
Ari had awoken to battlestation alarms but found the regular commotion subdued and the fellow soldiers she had bunked with to be missing from their beds. Her spot was reserved next to her father, a place where she could learn as he made his manoeuvres and swiftly dealt death to their enemies at the head of the fleet's flagship. Here she found no captain, the space he reserved for standing was vacant and the command deck itself almost empty save for a few. Bewildered eyes met her own, no one seemed to know what exactly was going on, so she took command and jumped on the net to communicate with her fellow captains. Silence.
When the commotion died down and the roster was tallied, Clan Vox had lost an abhorrent 64% of it's total population. Most of the mostly technically proficient crewmen had gone MIA, as had almost the entire swath of the Clan's command structure. Chaos swept their armada and mutiny threatened to tear the threads of the Clan apart. Indeed a sizeable portion of the Clan was nearly lost to just such a thing as Ari was nominated to succeed as the family's new Head. Far from the God-King Thor, Ari was still inexperienced to a major part of the Clan though her battlefield prowess was unmatched across the board. Challengers came and fell like mosquitoes to a lamp, and once the dust had settled Ari was left with just a few more scars and a bitter taste in her mouth. Her own brothers, and even a few sisters, had so vehemently questioned her leadership that they rose weapons against her. The truth was hard to stomach.
Worse was the situation her father had left for her. A mountain of debt was owed to various Hutt Cartels and as the cartels themselves re-shook their organizations their new leaders were vicious and unrelenting in their desire for the debts owed by the Clan. So battles continued, and the ravaging went on, until Ari was at last lost. Lost from herself, from her people, and from the ideals that had once so invigorated her. With her now humbled and meagre Clan only shrinking by the day, Ari made a deal with the last of her debtors and sold off the majority of her fleet, handed command to her chosen successor, and severed her ties with the family at large. Her spoils of war and worldly possessions now constrained to her aged and nameless YV-929, Ari took to the stars alone for the first time in her life and began her life anew once more. The stars held the same powers they always had over her, and in them, she hoped to find her calling.
RASCAL ACTUAL
MODIFIED YV-929 ARMED FREIGHTER
Serving as the owner and (more often than not) co-pilot, Ari has come not only to respect her vessel but to also cherish it as the battle-steed it now was. Bought for a meagre sum at the end of her reign as Clan Vox's Head, Ari has taken the time and credits required to update and refit the ship for the modern day. As well the ship was re-painted at the time of it's purchase to the colours that Ari once loved and cherished - sapphire with a silver trim.
Able to compete with most modern frigates, the YV-929 boasts a considerable amount of firepower given its size and class, without sacrificing too much in its other areas of note. Indeed were Ari a more skilled pilot, the YV-929 would be an absolutely deadly starship in its current configuration, modernized as it is.
Within its holds, the frigate is a comfortable home for one with a spartan lifestyle such as Ari. Decorations are limited exclusively to her own quarters, space she'd partitioned from half of her port cargo hold, where the walls are adorned with hand etched markings, phrases, even pictures which the young Mandalorian has created. Here to sit her glory trophies, among them pieces of Ari's life as she's found them: her father's helmet, a brochure of Groth, various pieces of shrapnel that had one time been lodged within Ari's body. In a small and easily overlooked space sits a keyboard which Ari occasionally pulls out to play. Her hands, as dextrous as ever carve out beautiful melodies to pass time when she's not sparring, fighting, or bleeding out on the battlefield. Meanwhile, the rest of the ship is completely utilitarian, including the small martial dojo where she housed her entire armoury, which she'd converted the rest of her port cargo hold into, and looked after by the small host of droids that Ari has purchased for easing her lone wolf lifestyle.
For starters, there's Rawlins, Ari's very own RWW series protocol droid and yet another part of Ari's past that would seem to many to be a blast from the past. Having served as her father's personal assistant, Rawlins is a host of knowledge and experience upon which Ari draws almost every single day. Within his databanks are a number of training routines as well, yet another component of the droid which Ari seeks to expand and utilize. Whether it's like boxing drills or complex grappling techniques, Rawlins is the perfect training partner for Ari, made such by his soft pliable exterior and the extensive expanse of knowledge gained from her father.
Next would be Ari's 'pilot' - though the fact that he mainly flies while Ari watches wouldn't be something she'd let everyone know - a GD16 Pilot Droid which Ari affectionately named 'Skip'. Given her shortcomings in the piloting department (a skill she never really took to when it came to spacefaring) Ari is more than happy to have Skip command her ship, save for those special days when she welcomes outsiders aboard her vessel, though mostly those who enter are restricted to the brig of her flying vessel.
And so we come to the brig, another modified addition that Ari has made by gutting both starboard crew quarters and cutting into halves, thereby turning two crew quarters into four brig cells. While they may not be the most comfortable places aboard the ships, not even afforded a mattress for sleep, they're one of the most highly secured spaces on the ship and protected in a three-hundred and sixty degrees area from all forms of escape, save for massively traumatic force use such to the degree that the ship's hull would be compromised.
Finally, of the two remaining crew quarters, only one is actually stock and liveable, the other having been converted into a makeshift surgical room where Ari's final droid works and stays. 'Doc-Bot', a CS 2-1B Surgical Droid from Ari's time as a member of Clan Vox is at times her closest confidant and worst adversary. Mending her wounds from all manner of things, Doc-Bot has become almost a chore to Ari who frequently will go without his use if the wounds she suffers are not too acute.
As for the software involved in her operations, Ari employs Tunnelnet to secure everything electronic that she uses. From her armour to her ship to the droids which she houses inside, all communicate directly with each other through the encrypted networking provided by Tunnelnet and maintain the integrity of Ari Vox's operations.
