Cassanova
Australian Rambler
Sou Bechi
NAME: Sou Bechi
FACTION: N/A
RANK: N/A
SPECIES: Trandoshan
AGE: 35
SEX: Male
HEIGHT: 6'9"
WEIGHT: 400lb
EYES: Yellow
HAIR: N/A
SKIN: Olive, Yellow Highlights up Neck
FORCE SENSITIVE: No.
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STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES (Required: 2 Weaknesses Minimum) :
Bechi is a physically strong individual, lacking in any notion of fear, hesitation or even the concept of restraint. The cause of this lack of restraint stems directly from his clinical psychosis and obsessive delusions. This leads to a myopic obsession and pursuit of a given goal without any thought for self preservation, consequence or wider ramifications.
APPEARANCE:
Bechi is known for a brutal, almost tortured appearance. The quality of his body can be easily described as over-scarred, a harsh reminder from the less successful attempts his life's work. His knuckles have been chewed back - presumably by Bechi himself - and the bones calcified. Often worth mentioning is that his hands and claws are often infected, making any contact a viable likelihood for bloodborne infections.
BIOGRAPHY:
I could tell you that pain is only in your mind, but that would make me a horrible liar. There is pain of blaster bolt through flesh and the pain of light saber through flesh and the pain of sword through flesh and the pain of blunt object through flesh. The pain of a workshop file through bone takes it all to a new level. Why would I know? Because I took a knife to my knuckles on both my hands, cut off all the skin, then took a workshop file to my bones, grooving them out. The resulting calcification of my knuckles, bones, and hands altogether. Through this process and then the resulting infection, two of Dosha’s most powerful items were created; my fists. My fists are connected to my arms, connected to my torso. In my torso is my heart. Connected to my heart is my head. My head creates orders for my body to follow based on my thoughts.
Imagine if I thought I was going to punch you in the face.
Before you would have had the opportunity to blink, my knuckles, roughly an inch in diameter each, would be connecting with your upper cheekbone. If I felt you weren’t being punished enough, I’d use my other hand in an uppercut, claws extended up. They would penetrate the soft, unprotected flesh underneath your mouth. If you survived this long, you’d be a miracle worker. But if you did, and some people have, in fact, survived this long, I’d really start to enjoy myself. While bracing your leg, I would drop my knee into it. Then the same with the other. And then slowly, I would start tracing a circle around the circumference of your leg with my claws. Slowly, but surely I would cut through whatever clothing and armour you may have there. Then eventually I’d reach flesh, and I’d slow down just that little more. After hours of tracing your leg, it would either be separated from your body, or all that would be left would be bone. If by this stage you hadn’t bled to death, or died from shock, or an infection most likely caused by the infected wounds on my hands, then you would really wish you died when I hit you the first time. Using nothing but my claws I would incise a hole in your abdomen, and through that hole I would pull our intestines, and slowly set them to a boil in a pot of water. Your organs would absorb this heated water, endure third degree burns, and to top it all off. I’d then stuff the organs back in you, and cauterize the wound using a knife which had been sitting by the fire.
Just for the sake of argument, you now only have one leg left, a hole in your jaw, a 3 inch hole in your gut, with third degree burned intestines. If for some reason someone actually gave a damn why you survived this long – I would be in the right for killing you in the first place. Only you, a Jedi, would survive this kind of torture. So I would complete your Jedi Training, take your light saber, place it softly in your mouth, and ignite it.
It is my calling, Jedi, to hunt you, and all your kind to extinction, to burn your house to the ground, with your books, teachings, archives, writings, and artifacts.
Your entire legacy, Jedi, will end with me.
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ROLE-PLAYS:
TBA
NAME: Sou Bechi
FACTION: N/A
RANK: N/A
SPECIES: Trandoshan
AGE: 35
SEX: Male
HEIGHT: 6'9"
WEIGHT: 400lb
EYES: Yellow
HAIR: N/A
SKIN: Olive, Yellow Highlights up Neck
FORCE SENSITIVE: No.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES (Required: 2 Weaknesses Minimum) :
Bechi is a physically strong individual, lacking in any notion of fear, hesitation or even the concept of restraint. The cause of this lack of restraint stems directly from his clinical psychosis and obsessive delusions. This leads to a myopic obsession and pursuit of a given goal without any thought for self preservation, consequence or wider ramifications.
APPEARANCE:
Bechi is known for a brutal, almost tortured appearance. The quality of his body can be easily described as over-scarred, a harsh reminder from the less successful attempts his life's work. His knuckles have been chewed back - presumably by Bechi himself - and the bones calcified. Often worth mentioning is that his hands and claws are often infected, making any contact a viable likelihood for bloodborne infections.
BIOGRAPHY:
I could tell you that pain is only in your mind, but that would make me a horrible liar. There is pain of blaster bolt through flesh and the pain of light saber through flesh and the pain of sword through flesh and the pain of blunt object through flesh. The pain of a workshop file through bone takes it all to a new level. Why would I know? Because I took a knife to my knuckles on both my hands, cut off all the skin, then took a workshop file to my bones, grooving them out. The resulting calcification of my knuckles, bones, and hands altogether. Through this process and then the resulting infection, two of Dosha’s most powerful items were created; my fists. My fists are connected to my arms, connected to my torso. In my torso is my heart. Connected to my heart is my head. My head creates orders for my body to follow based on my thoughts.
Imagine if I thought I was going to punch you in the face.
Before you would have had the opportunity to blink, my knuckles, roughly an inch in diameter each, would be connecting with your upper cheekbone. If I felt you weren’t being punished enough, I’d use my other hand in an uppercut, claws extended up. They would penetrate the soft, unprotected flesh underneath your mouth. If you survived this long, you’d be a miracle worker. But if you did, and some people have, in fact, survived this long, I’d really start to enjoy myself. While bracing your leg, I would drop my knee into it. Then the same with the other. And then slowly, I would start tracing a circle around the circumference of your leg with my claws. Slowly, but surely I would cut through whatever clothing and armour you may have there. Then eventually I’d reach flesh, and I’d slow down just that little more. After hours of tracing your leg, it would either be separated from your body, or all that would be left would be bone. If by this stage you hadn’t bled to death, or died from shock, or an infection most likely caused by the infected wounds on my hands, then you would really wish you died when I hit you the first time. Using nothing but my claws I would incise a hole in your abdomen, and through that hole I would pull our intestines, and slowly set them to a boil in a pot of water. Your organs would absorb this heated water, endure third degree burns, and to top it all off. I’d then stuff the organs back in you, and cauterize the wound using a knife which had been sitting by the fire.
Just for the sake of argument, you now only have one leg left, a hole in your jaw, a 3 inch hole in your gut, with third degree burned intestines. If for some reason someone actually gave a damn why you survived this long – I would be in the right for killing you in the first place. Only you, a Jedi, would survive this kind of torture. So I would complete your Jedi Training, take your light saber, place it softly in your mouth, and ignite it.
It is my calling, Jedi, to hunt you, and all your kind to extinction, to burn your house to the ground, with your books, teachings, archives, writings, and artifacts.
Your entire legacy, Jedi, will end with me.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ROLE-PLAYS:
TBA