S O V E R E I G N
At a set of ruins in the middle of the Tatooine desert
|| THE BASICS ||- Full name: Maxis Windstrider
- Preferred Name: Windstrider
- Alias: None
- Titles: Outlaw of the Sands
- Species: Near-Human
- Race: Human
- Homeworld: Tatooine
- Faction(s): None
- Rank(s): Mercenary
- Class: Gunslinger
- Master(s): None
- Padawan(s): None
- Force Sensitive: Yes
- Force Alignment: Lawful Neutral
|| PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: ||
- Gender: Male
- Age: Twenty-seven Galactic Standard Years
- Height: Five foot ten Inches
- Weight: One hundred and eighty-seven pounds
- Complexion: Caucasian/Tanned
- Eye Color: Silver/Grey
- Hair Color: Dull Brown
- Distinguishing Marks: Scar on left forehead angling from the crown, down to the eyebrow. Second scar from middle of the cheek, Perpendicular to jawline and down to the nape of the neck on the right side. Small scruff facial hair. Acne scars from years ago. Tribal tattoos on left arm. Ranging from wrist, all the way up to shoulder. Crossed guns tattoo on the left side of the back. A raised burn scar in the shape of the letter Xesh behind the ear, on the neck at the base of the skull.
- Voice Sample: None
- Appearance Description: Ali
- Marital Status: Single
- Sexual Conduct: Heterosexual
- Languages: Galactic basic, Tusken, Huttese,
- Occupation: Mercenary, Part time Bounty Hunter, Smuggler.
- Residence: Ships, and taverns whenever can be found.
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|| STRENGTHS: ||
- Gunslinger – Born on Tatooine where guns ruled the sands, Maxis learned to use the weapons to a heightened proficiency. Most notably the hand cannons, pistols, and rifles. He is very quick to the draw and would likely beat most others he would come across. However, he still has much to learn. He can't use every weapon out there. As well, anything larger than a personal weapon, and he runs into a little bit of trouble.
- Knife fighter - As a child, he had to protect himself against the dangerous people of the planet. So he learned to use knives to a proficiency. Throwing them, slashing, stabbing, and even knife tricks are easy.
- Sandpeople native - As an adopted child of the Tusken Raiders, or the Sandpeople, Maxis grew up in a village deep within the seas of sand and harsh desert environment. Heat for him is not a problem. He has had way too many "burns" for it to affect him all that much. However, that does not mean he can shake of fire. Merely he can deal with hotter, and drier environments.
- Outdoorsman - General awareness of being able to survive in less than favorable conditions in the galaxy, Maxis can literally live for years in deserts, forests, or any other secluded like places due to the fact that he is resourceful, independent, and is not afraid of working for what he wants. He depends on himself and only himself, to get what needs to be done, done.
- No physical threat – Maxis is no real physical threat. He isn't really strong or really fast. In his physical skills he is a jack of all trades. He doesn't need to increase his pure strength or stamina because he knows his own strengths. This makes him literally just the average strength, speed, stamina, or whatever traits there are.
- Lawbreaker - While the man may be on the lawful neutral end of the spectrum, he doesn't care for strict law systems or even rules for that matter. He lives by the code of life. And that is, Anything goes. This makes him get into trouble with the law a lot of times. And can very easily get him on the bad side of a very powerful person.
- "Republican Party" - He loves his guns, and his code, and does not like how people have become "Brats of the Galaxy" or people who don't work for what they want or need. He doesn't trust or feel comfortable around those of a different species than him. He also does not like Droid or cyborgs or mechanized people. Even more so when the Vong are involved. Don't even get him started about the Force.
- Lone wolf attitude - Liking to work alone, and preferring that, as said above, he depends upon himself to get things done. So when someone says they will help him, he doubts it and believes that they will fail, and he will have to jump in and do it anyways.
- Addictions Galore - Cigarettes, drinking, sex, Adrenaline junkie, Thrill seeker, and gun collector.
- Eye for an eye - Easy and simple to remember. He will treat you kindly, and if you throw poodoo in his face, he will throw it back, and more.
|| BIOGRAPHY: ||
A clip from tappings in an unknown cell with an undercover agent
"What are you here for?"
"Do you want the long or the short of it?"
"Depends. How much time do we both have to stay in here."
"Not getting out of here any time soon if that is what you are asking."
"Good. Now as to why you are here?"
"Public Intoxication, Public Nuisance, Indecent Exposure on federal property, Assault, Manslaughter, GrandTheft, Assault with a deadly weap-"
"I get it you have a she-"
"Shut up."
"What?"
"I said for you to shut up. You asked why I was here. So I told you. Don't like it? Shove it up the tailpipe."
"Fine. Story time. Tell me about your life. Cus I like the small talk."
"I didnt have parents growing up. I mean, sure I had them, but when they had me as a baby, they had lost me over the side of their skiff and apparently couldn't find me, or they just didn't care. It changes every time I ask the elders. Anyways, A guy from a Sandpeople tribe on Tatooine picked up me and swaddled me back to his village where I grew up. I learned among them to be a Raider. A gunner, a knife fighter, and a threat when need be. Life wasn't easy. Because I was human, my adoptive parent, were looked down upon. As well as myself. Bullies, hazings, beatings, fights. All throughout my childhood. Most of the time I would just cover everything up just like they did to blend in. But it's easy to tell the difference between humans and sandpeople. After I became of age, which for you humans was about 16, I was told I could make my own decisions from then on. Giving me an old set of raiding gear, and a single DL-44, I made the choice to leave. I had to walk across the miles of desert with nothing but 30 rounds of a blaster pistol to survive off of. I only made it because I used a bantha to hide me from the heat, and made it travel till I could reach the nearest place. At the time it was just a house owned by the Windstriders. My name before I met them is not pronounceable in your language. Either way, I only knew enough basic to stay about a year so I could get used to humans. After that, I left in the middle of the night taking everything I owned."
"So you were literally dealt a poodoo hand, and still got somewhere?"
*Silence for 5 seconds*
"You could say that."
"What else?"
"I used my skills to work. At first I worked as a bar boy. Rushing drinks over to people, and taking orders from mercs, hunters, fat men, and skanks. I then shot a customer after he pissed me off, and that grabbed the attention of a Hunter. He taught me to use guns even more so than what I already had, taught me to fight with tactics, and against most other people. While he told me how to fight Forcies, I have fought one, but it was just for fun. Sadly he is now dead due to the wars. Myself, A gunslinger, A walking tank of a man, my boss Drexel, and a Force Hunter, Axel, were a hunting trio that used our skills to do anything from smuggling, to bounty hunting, retrieval of items. Whatever. We did it. It was on a bad job for a Hutt that we were double crossed. Drex was shot in the head by a bounty hunter who worked exclusively for the Hutt, And Axel was captured. I ran and tried to come back, a month later only to find that Axel was an emotionless drone thanks to drugs."
"Damn that sucks. How long were you with these guys?"
"Two and a half years. I was 17 when I started with them. So almost 20 years old when all of this happened. I suppose."
"And what of this Hutt?"
"Left him. Forget his name. And I don't care. It was long done, and over."
"Continue."
"I worked. Did my normal jobs only without the two of them there. Got a few addictions after being alone for once. Got used to it. And I rather like it. So no, you can't join."
"Don't want to. You have bad luck my friend."
*Scuffle sounds, and slamming of a chair on the floor followed by punches*
*it stops after 5 seconds*
"Call me a friend and I will break your arm."
"Let me go!"
"I will once you shut the hell up and listen to me."
"Please..."
"I have you in a lock that can break your arm in three different places if I wanted. I have had a hard life. But I do not have bad luck, nor am I your friend. So don't go there. M-kay pumpken?"
"Okay!"
*Scuffle for a second*
"Ow..."
"Interview over cop."
"I am not a cop"
"And nobody else gives a poodoo about my life in here. Move on. Nothing to see here."
*Audio cuts out*
