In Umbris Potestas Est
Name: Chupa La'Roi
Alias: Dreadnaught (original DJ title)
Race: Arkanian/Human hybrid
Age: 42
Rank: Dark Jedi Apprentice (former Dark Jedi Knight/Royal Guard of the Imperial Remnant)
Affiliation: Lords of the Fringe
Height: 6'5''
Weight: 190 lbs
Family: Korvance La'Roi (father)/ Marie La'Roi (mother, formerly Marie Huntlong) ((both deceased))
Siblings: K'Dan (brother/deceased)
Living Status: Single, celibate (formerly married, wife deceased)
Homeworld: Arkania
Force Powers:
Basic Healing (Self)
Enhance Ability
Enhance Senses
Force Rage
Force Jump/Leap
Force Speed
History:
The carbon-frozen figure lowered slowly from the cargo bay, resting up against the hull of the bounty hunter's vessel like a newly mounted animal's head above a mantlepiece. The bounty hunter in question referred to himself as Tor Wilde, as his true name was unpronounceable. The Hutt in front of him motioned towards the frozen face and spoke; his Twi'lek assistant translated the words quickly.
"My masta wants it open, right now!" Tor grimaced and nodded, but motioned with his hand towards the Hutt. The Twi'lek nodded and whispered to the Hutt, who groaned and dropped a sack full of credits on the ground. The grimace turned to a smile, and Tor quickly deactivated the device, retrieved his prize, and lifted off his vessel as quickly as possible.
The figure from inside the device fell out rather abruptly, his white hair glistening as light hit it for the first time in years. His eyes, still adjusting to the environment, looked up to see the Twi'lek standing over him, frowning heavily. "Masta, things no look good for your prize!" Chupa lay on the ground for a few minutes, until he could muster the strength to stand up again. His beard, still as white as ever, was now an exact match to his skin; a dull white that made him look like he had lived in a cave for many years. It certainly felt like he had. When he could feel well enough to speak (the Hutt waiting very patiently the whole time), a deep, thunderous sound erupted from his lips: his natural speaking voice, one that demanded attention and careful wording of those around him.
"Hutt! Twi'lek! What year, and planet, are we on? Who are you, where are my weapons, and how did I get here?"
The Twi'lek removed his fingers from his ears, wincing. "Be a little more quiet! People might here ya!....It's 885 ABY, and we're on Coruscant. My name is Tyr Ranoo, and this my Masta, Jirt the Hutt! Your weapons are beside you, next to the chamber itself; my Masta has decided to aid the New Sith Empire with its recruiting, so to speak, so you are their new recruit! You are very welcome?"
Chupa was searching through his things, strapping vibroblades back onto his thighs, shins, waist and shoulders. Finally he found it; the lightsaber glowed red, but not a lighter red. It was blood red. Tyr Ranoo shivered and smiled weakly, "I assume you will be following us- AH!" The Arkanian swooped down, slicing the Twi'lek directly in half; he gave his Hutt savior no mercy as well. Smirking, he walked past the corpses, and into the hustle and bustle of the crowds.
-------------
The guards at the front of the Sith Temple would hardly have expected the sight they saw. They could obviously tell the person was one with the Dark Side, but his outfit was something else to behold. A simple durasteel helmet, with open eye-holes and a simple breath mask installed over the mouth, enveloped the figure's head from a distance, but when they approached, the helmet was removed, and blank white eyes gazed at the guards in both wonder....and pity. The first guard, a novice, was slightly intimidated by the new image, but he had seen much worse things in his lifetime; nevertheless, he stepped forward.
"Halt, in the name of the Emperor! State your business or move on!"
Chupa looked right in the guard's eyes and spoke, making them twitch ever so slightly. "I come as a former Dark Jedi and Royal Guard of the Imperial Remnant, brought into this new Empire to once more protect the Emperor I have sworn to protect, no matter what his name may be. Now...MOVE!" With one swift action, Chupa rested his palm against the chest of the guard, tossed him backwards over his shoulder, then turned and kicked him as hard as he could. He had never seen such horrible guardsmen; he also expected the other guard to come to his friend's rescue. This was not the case. The other stood at attention, clearly shaken, but not enough to complain about it. Chupa cut across his own forehead with one of his vibrodaggers and licked the blood from his lips. Blood dripping from his face and over his teeth, a grimace on his face, Chupa went looking for a new, worthy faction to call his own....
Alias: Dreadnaught (original DJ title)
Race: Arkanian/Human hybrid
Age: 42
Rank: Dark Jedi Apprentice (former Dark Jedi Knight/Royal Guard of the Imperial Remnant)
Affiliation: Lords of the Fringe
Height: 6'5''
Weight: 190 lbs
Family: Korvance La'Roi (father)/ Marie La'Roi (mother, formerly Marie Huntlong) ((both deceased))
Siblings: K'Dan (brother/deceased)
Living Status: Single, celibate (formerly married, wife deceased)
Homeworld: Arkania
Force Powers:
Basic Healing (Self)
Enhance Ability
Enhance Senses
Force Rage
Force Jump/Leap
Force Speed
History:
The carbon-frozen figure lowered slowly from the cargo bay, resting up against the hull of the bounty hunter's vessel like a newly mounted animal's head above a mantlepiece. The bounty hunter in question referred to himself as Tor Wilde, as his true name was unpronounceable. The Hutt in front of him motioned towards the frozen face and spoke; his Twi'lek assistant translated the words quickly.
"My masta wants it open, right now!" Tor grimaced and nodded, but motioned with his hand towards the Hutt. The Twi'lek nodded and whispered to the Hutt, who groaned and dropped a sack full of credits on the ground. The grimace turned to a smile, and Tor quickly deactivated the device, retrieved his prize, and lifted off his vessel as quickly as possible.
The figure from inside the device fell out rather abruptly, his white hair glistening as light hit it for the first time in years. His eyes, still adjusting to the environment, looked up to see the Twi'lek standing over him, frowning heavily. "Masta, things no look good for your prize!" Chupa lay on the ground for a few minutes, until he could muster the strength to stand up again. His beard, still as white as ever, was now an exact match to his skin; a dull white that made him look like he had lived in a cave for many years. It certainly felt like he had. When he could feel well enough to speak (the Hutt waiting very patiently the whole time), a deep, thunderous sound erupted from his lips: his natural speaking voice, one that demanded attention and careful wording of those around him.
"Hutt! Twi'lek! What year, and planet, are we on? Who are you, where are my weapons, and how did I get here?"
The Twi'lek removed his fingers from his ears, wincing. "Be a little more quiet! People might here ya!....It's 885 ABY, and we're on Coruscant. My name is Tyr Ranoo, and this my Masta, Jirt the Hutt! Your weapons are beside you, next to the chamber itself; my Masta has decided to aid the New Sith Empire with its recruiting, so to speak, so you are their new recruit! You are very welcome?"
Chupa was searching through his things, strapping vibroblades back onto his thighs, shins, waist and shoulders. Finally he found it; the lightsaber glowed red, but not a lighter red. It was blood red. Tyr Ranoo shivered and smiled weakly, "I assume you will be following us- AH!" The Arkanian swooped down, slicing the Twi'lek directly in half; he gave his Hutt savior no mercy as well. Smirking, he walked past the corpses, and into the hustle and bustle of the crowds.
-------------
The guards at the front of the Sith Temple would hardly have expected the sight they saw. They could obviously tell the person was one with the Dark Side, but his outfit was something else to behold. A simple durasteel helmet, with open eye-holes and a simple breath mask installed over the mouth, enveloped the figure's head from a distance, but when they approached, the helmet was removed, and blank white eyes gazed at the guards in both wonder....and pity. The first guard, a novice, was slightly intimidated by the new image, but he had seen much worse things in his lifetime; nevertheless, he stepped forward.
"Halt, in the name of the Emperor! State your business or move on!"
Chupa looked right in the guard's eyes and spoke, making them twitch ever so slightly. "I come as a former Dark Jedi and Royal Guard of the Imperial Remnant, brought into this new Empire to once more protect the Emperor I have sworn to protect, no matter what his name may be. Now...MOVE!" With one swift action, Chupa rested his palm against the chest of the guard, tossed him backwards over his shoulder, then turned and kicked him as hard as he could. He had never seen such horrible guardsmen; he also expected the other guard to come to his friend's rescue. This was not the case. The other stood at attention, clearly shaken, but not enough to complain about it. Chupa cut across his own forehead with one of his vibrodaggers and licked the blood from his lips. Blood dripping from his face and over his teeth, a grimace on his face, Chupa went looking for a new, worthy faction to call his own....