Nero Sirax
Last Son
Title:
- Last son of House Sirax
Subrace: Zeltron
Age: 30, Born 829 ABY
Gender: Male
Height: 177.8 cm (5'10")
Weight: 63.5 kg (140 lbs)
Physique: Lean; Toned
Eye Pigmentation: Pale Blue
Hair Color: Light Pink
Skin Complexion: Alabaster
Physical & Psychological Profile:
- Narcissistic Personality Disorder - Inflated sense of one's own worth, further encouraged by a lavish lifestyle during childhood. Prone to narcissistic "rage".
- Adrenal Cancer
- Atelophobia - Fear Of Imperfection
- Drug Dependency
- Weak Lungs
Allegiances: The Golden Company - Credits
Current Status: Active - Unknown
Homeworld: Zeltros
Languages Known:
- Galactic Basic - Fluent
- High Galactic - Fluent
Force Sensitive: Yes - Amateur
Known Alignment: Credits
Marriage Status: Single
Parent(s): Both Deceased
Siblings: Iresias Sirax
Known Skills:
- Swordsman - Adept
- Close-Quarters Combat - Adept
- Pistolier - Moderate
- Clean Shaven
- Scarring Along Chest & Back; Burn Scars On Hands
- Deceptively Youthful Appearance
- Cybernetically Enhanced (Muscular Enhancement, Reflex Enhancement, Sensory Implant)
- Agile; Slim
- Experienced Duelist
- Reckless & Argumentative
- Drug Addict
- Poor Health
- Questionable Mental State
The Story So Far...
A man - barely more than the very spoiled child he was in his youth; crippled by the past and forever haunted by the deeds of his sibling. Nero is a shell of a person, still grasping onto the very threads of a life that will never come back to him. He seeks what it truly is to find meaning among the greater galaxy, tearing at every wall of flesh that stands between him and the enigmatic glory he has yet to discover - peering through the black between stars, hoping to see the glimmer of his dreams before his deluded, starved eyes.
He was proud before - distinguished from others by the very garb on his skin, made better than the lowly scum that longed for even the slightest scrap of nourishment. His blood was of purity and privilege, his very heritage a symbol of the greatness he was to uphold, with the same expectation befalling his sister. There was an unspoken hatred between the siblings - either one of them progressing as individuals to hold leverage over each other's head.
For all that she blamed him for - the very abuse borne of her morbid heart and rotted thoughts, coupled with the indifference shown by their parents. The failed attempts she made on his life, wishing to usurp every credit and asset of their family's success. She would get her lust for all that glimmered, and Nero would be left with nothing but himself - nothing left but his veiled reality that meant nothing to the rest of the galaxy, to the rest of those that struggled to survive in order to sleep one more night.
All he owned was his name - and the title of his lineage.
Yet he refused to separate himself from his pride - the memories of rich meals and expensive wines that tickled his tongue and warmed his belly, lulling him into a false sense of security; after his loss of power, he then came to experience the cold of unbiased winds - the lack of safety that was provided by walls and gates. He became a friend of pain - not only in the physical sense, but in the regard that he would get to look at the night sky each and every night and know he was bested - to be woken up by the blistering sun, stuck in a daze after a spice binge from the previous night.
Exposed to filth, immersed in decadence.
His memories turned into rot, and his body became thirsty and hungry for blood - for revenge. He swore to himself that he would find Iresias.
He promised his delusion a sweet victory, a reclamation of what he believed to be rightfully his.
That same blistering sun would become his coat of arms, and unto others he would cut out their existence in the favor of his own; embraced in the glorious golden nobility that resonated with his perception of himself, but hollowed and blackened by rot within the very soul was he - last and only son of House Sirax.
