Karl Halvorsen

Karl Halvorsen · Dec 26, 2017

Karl Halvorsen

I like to keep things short.

A smoking barrel counts as 'short'.

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Age: 28
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Sexuality: Heterosexual

Height: 5' 10" (1.75m)
Weight: 165lbs (75kg)
Hair: Golden Brown
Eyes: Ice Blue

Force Sensitivity: No
Faction: Independent
Occupation: Gun-for-Hire

Residence: Transient

The Man

A man with far too high of an opinion of himself; were the sin of pride to be measured in gold, Karl wouldn't be renting his trigger finger so often and perhaps even have enough left over from the inevitable alcohol-induced partying to buy himself a cozy studio apartment on a Coreworld. Paired with a healthy narcissistic streak and a comparably huge ego, very few people in the galaxy has ever met to his standards worthy of mutual respect. That is not to say he isn't searching earnestly though.

Despite his overly egoistic nature he is a gregarious fellow, holding himself by the same standards that he sets others and most importantly, living by the term, " a man's Man." His pride is a by-product of extremely well placed confidence in his skills, for they do indeed pay the many bills he racks up in local cantinas. While amoral and often apathetic to political schemes, he will take personal offence at the sight of damsels in distress and wailing children; unfortunately given his rough background his solutions to these problems tend to be short sighted and very often involve violence (i.e slapping the child in order to get him to stop crying, for instance.) That said, he holds both men and women in equal regard, dishing out punishments in equal measure.

Despite his can-do attitude, Halvorsen is notoriously lazy, preferring the easiest way out and then fleeing before the repercussions of his actions can catch up to the fleeting figure. Having slaved away the early half of his life, Karl believes he is entitled to some well deserved slacking. Were funds easy and fun to come by, he'd potentially never get out of bed. Luckily for him, you can't spell funds without 'fun': to say he doesn't enjoy his line of work is a blatant lie and the man does truly believe that his work can change something for the better.

Just not him, because you can't change perfection, evidently.

The Looks

Karl looks good, and he knows it and isn't afraid to flaunt it when it nets him less work, but the same amount of money. Under his philosophy of being a man's man, he is an equal split of suave for the ladies and tough for the men. His style however, must be easy to pull off especially on short notice: constant preening tends to be incredibly frustrating. Tends to alternate between long and short hair cuts, depending on his laziness.

Having lived off the farm with little to eat, this roughly translated to a skinny body with very little body mass. Recent developments however has seen Karl with better living conditions, better food and thus, a slightly more well rounded physique. Signs of hard work have all but disappeared, although the marks of whips are hard to hide. Instead the marks of his past are accentuated with colorful ink, gaudy birds and whatever tattoo marks he's willing to decorate his body with. Half naked, Karl would not look out of place in a local travelling circus- toss him a few credits and he'd work in it too.

When it comes to attire, anything goes for him, so long as it's either a A ) suit or B ) any color of black. Though one may question the practicality of a suit in his line of work, the thought behind the decision focuses more on the general aesthetics; Karl doesn't do work unless it's in full regalia, and if he wants to let a poor sap know that he could look good doing bad deeds then for damn sure he's going to come to the event looking good anyway. He is oddly utilitarian about his sense of clothing beyond the realm of work, preferring clothing that suits the climate, culture and most importantly the latest trend of fashion without sinking into an irrecoverable debt; the reason he works is so he doesn't fall into a pit of debtors after all. Tends to eschew body armor in firefights, preferring quick wits, quick draws and when the time comes, quick feet to escape. This is not to say Karl lacks the sense of self-preservation, after all: nine times out of ten he'll out shoot the foe and that one out of ten has yet to outdraw him.

When that man (or woman) does come however, at least he'll be in his funeral clothing and that is generally how he wants to go out of this galaxy: well prepared to meet his Maker.

The Legends. . .

Sometime, long ago, two people met. They evidently liked each other enough to bed one another, but didn't like the product that came with their copulation after nine months. Rather than keep the babe and raise it in good care, they set a precedent for a child to follow, many years later.

They simply gave their problem away.

That child landed on the doorstep of a rancher in a planet where nobody cared what happened to it: Dantooine. A place where you can plant your seeds and watch the trees grow in silent boredom, since nobody bothered to build anything that resembled entertainment. Now, the rancher was a good man by the local people even if he did have a bad habit of drinking in the face of danger, but raising a child wasn't the same as watching wheat grow. Nevertheless the farmer took the boy in, perhaps not as a son as Karl would have appreciated, but as a source of free labour. At least the babe had a roof, food and companionship, which was more than he could ask for- which he couldn't, because at the time he was completely incapable of coherent speech, being a several week old baby and what not.

Note that living on a farm on a backwater planet means one of two things: either you work or you starve. About as soon as he could walk and not drop a box he was put to work in the many different aspects of the farm. One thing Karl learned was that he absolutely hated toiling under the sun, even more so when the bed he was given was lumpy and the food often cold. His surrogate father tried his best but for when the child's standards far exceeded the means of a simple backwater farmer, there was little else he could do. Though it may seem as though Karl was an insufferable child from the beginning, rest assured it can probably be attributed to! Genetics.

His parents may or may not have been rich, careless with money and protection, but that's for another story to tell.

Perhaps a little bit of that 'rich' gene passed on to him, or maybe he caught wind of the impressive standard of living on the Coreworlds from some televised show, although the latter seems impossible: people on Dantooine don't watch the news, much less have a stable Holo-net connection after all. No no, Karl was simply destined to be insufferable from the beginning it seemed. A shame, because beneath the layer of all that high-and-mighty attitude, he was simply a kid- innocent and childlike, trying to impress his surrogate father.

But who are we kidding, that period didn't last long after Karl witnessed the farm dog be put down. Pulled the trigger himself on an old prewar blaster as his old man stood by and watched in case the kid got too trigger happy.

A few years later the 'kid' would cripple the farmer with a round through his knee cap, showing to everybody that if you don't want to curse a child for shooting your knee caps out, you shouldn't have let them shot their favourite dog after accidentally ramming it with a speeder. There were many other reasons why Karl showed scant gratitude to his father figure: 1) the man's fist wasn't exactly gentle on Karl under the influence of alcohol, 2) Karl was a little angry, understandably, for being stuck on Dantooine out of all places and 3) he had a minor freak out when he was told he'd inherit the farm from the old man. Farming was not Karl's favourite activity, and given a choice of being on the run from the law or farming until he grew old, Karl obviously chose the former. The good thing about his decision of course, was that he couldn't have chosen a better place to commit a crime.

There was no law on Dantooine.

Nobody likes Dantooine, which is why he left after notifying the neighbours (5 miles away, because this was Dantooine after all) on the first shuttle off-planet. While it would be technically right to say the rest is history, there were plenty of other things that happened that lead to Karl being Karl as he is today.

One of which he ended up joining a pirate crew for a brief stint after being on a shuttle that had just left Dantooine. Instead of dying to horrible means he found that he had quite the gift of the gab and perhaps in an attempt to shut the nineteen year old up, the Captain let him join the crew. It was a very bad mistake because three weeks after assigning Halvorsen to a working schedule, Karl left on an escape pod with the ship's nonperishable food and dumped the ship's fuel and its reserves into space, condemning the entire crew to a slow death of starvation.

All for the crime of giving Halvorsen work to do, after he had just literally crippled an old man for the same exact thing, only for life. The escape pod made it all the way to Nar Shaddaa, where Karl claimed the bounty of the pirates and proceeded to get extremely drunk, buy a gun and then ruin everything by accidentally killing the local Hutt lord's favourite dancer in a heated argument over a spilled drink. Besides being banned from the Catina for life, he received a well deserved bounty on his head and was left with only a gun, barely any funds left and a whole lot of unfriendly bounty hunters after him. Caught in an undesirable situation in a largely unknown environment, he reacted to his natural Flight or Fight response by being smart and calm and collected.

By calm and collected, Karl shot the first bounty hunter that tried to claim the bounty and smartly made it a non-lethal shot of course, although after the fourth attempt he stopped being smart and let his shot hit wherever it wanted to on the body- it had a very funny knack of killing the hunters in due process. After the seventh hunter and running dangerously low on ammuniton, Karl decided that he quite liked killing people for money and then proceeded to do the second most dumbest thing in his life, and walked into the lair of the Hutt lord that submitted the bounty. Instead of tearing the place apart (Aw, who are we kidding, he only had less than half a clip left) he offered his services to the Hutt lord first, citing his seven self-defense kills as indication of skill.

His argument could have persuaded the Hutt if he hadn't walked in angry, smelly and drunk and started cussing everything in sight of course. The Hutt was understandably unamused by his lack of politeness and 'kindly' told Karl to leave. Karl politely told the Hutt to point his gun where the sun don't shine and then promptly shot the fat slug while everybody was recoiling from the shocking display of audacity. Then, while people were too busy screaming over the death of their employer, Karl then proceeded to do the one thing he should have done before and ran like a headless chicken.

How Karl survived the ordeal was a little bit of a mystery even to him, after the many years of working with his index fingers. It soon became his signature to double cross on his employers should their intended target offer a higher sum for their survival. This obviously was not a very smart business model, but as a wise man once said, so long as there's two people left in the galaxy, somebody is going to want somebody dead. This philosophy served him well as he traveled around the galaxy, picking up mannerisms, accents, the occasional ship and weapons like it was hot potatoes on a flash sale. There were times where he had to steal, beg and borrow- profits were understandably lean, with three guns to maintain and a ravenous appetite.

Yes, three guns because if it's something Karl learned was that a blaster was three times more likely to kill a man in a firefight than a slugthrower, which is why he carries three pieces in case a mad man tried to use a blaster near him.In a world dominated by energy bolts searing through the air, it takes either a complete idiot or skilled trigger finger to make a six-shooter work in a firefight.

Plus, they were incredibly sexy as far as the general consensus from some of his many one-night stands had stated. So you know, why bother with anything but a good piece of iron?

The Goods

Equipment
- A Chase Wilderness Chronometer
- An Energy Projected Helmet

Weaponry

1x HG-54 "Vora" Class Verpine Hand Cannon -

2x Wild Space Outback Revolver -

1x Wild Space Outback Rifle -

Ship
- TBA
- TBA

Droids

TBA -

Pets
- TBA

Misc

1x Gunray Bans -