06-26-2010, 10:10 PM
Name: Orsalis
Age: 38
Race: Changeling
Sex: Male
Starting Planet: Outer Space
Profession: Marital Artist
Fighting Style: Stylized marital arts, much like Earthly kung-fu
Short Bio:
Kept high atop the mountains, Orasalis was seen by the monks that raised him as a blessing from the Gods. His keen ability to look into the hearts and minds of those around him gave him the unique ability to mimic their every move and action. His lips would meld to the shape of the other’s, and their voice would become his. His fingers would curl as theirs did, and even the depth of his eyes would reflect the hopes and dreams of his subjects.
These powers were not supernatural, only the product of the child’s great ability to observe and replicate. Many called him the Living Mirror, dancing from behind the silver frame of his youthful body. His keen eyes would be the source of legend and praise from the entire city in which he inhabited.
However, fame was only so much for the child. As he grew, as did his ambitions, and he wished only to escape the constraints of the cloister and venture forward into the world around him. Late one night, he slipped from a window and dashed from the tops of the mountain down into the world below.
He joined a large training facility for martial artists, and learned as though he was one of the masters. Soon, he rose to the top ranks of the school, and was at the Grand Master’s heel on every occasion. He never proved to have the social graces or tactical mind of a military or martial master, but his ability to adapt to and overcome any foe he was faced with was something that gained admiration from the public.
When the Saiyans attacked his home village, he fought valiantly, but was overcome by the warrior race. During the conflict, his face and head were irrevocably scarred by his opponent’s powerful energy attacks, which also disabled the warrior for a time. During this period, he was captured and processed for slavery, shipped towards a mineral rich asteroid belt in deep space.
General Description:
A deep colored changeling, his skin is a light tint of blue, the darker purple patches bordering on black. The dark, reflective surface atop his head is a prismatic deep purple, gleaming like a massive jewel atop the crown of his thick brow.
A long, deep scar runs diagonally across his face, leaving him with an uncovered black pit instead of a right eye, and the horn on the same side is burnt cleanly in half. The scar runs over his cheek and lip as well, leaving it a noticeable and gruesome reminder. His naturally blackened nails extend long past the finger, curving slightly at the hardened end.
He wears a dark blue shoulder scarf, the name of his trainers on each cuff. He wears no chest plate for armor or anything upon his upper half for that matter, a pair of loose training trousers covering his legs.
His tail lashes about behind him at all times, striking objects that he passes by absentmindedly. A constant smirk rides upon his lips, and he almost instinctively tightens his fingers at the slightest sign of discourse.
A foul stink of sulfur follows him, both from the waters he bathes in, but from the stink of the bizarres he had come to be so accustomed to upon his home planet. This smell fades after any extended amount of time he has spent off-world, but his routine is well more than capable of allowing the stench to follow him for several months.
Starting Abilities: Mimic, Martial Arts Specialization
Trait: Lone Wolf
Stats:
• Strength - 20%
• Focus - 30%
• Endurance - 20%
• Agility - 30%
Role-play Sample:
There was not much Orsalis could do with the cold metal cuffs that confined his hands, feet and tail, but that hadn’t stopped him from openly mocking his captors from his cell.
“Hey there, monkey boy!” his cool, raspy and almost feminine voice called out, “You just making your rounds again? Trying to avoid more work I see!” His busted lips curled into a smile, “We always seemed to have more work ethic than your kind. I suppose that’s why you haven’t managed to conquer the galaxy yet, huh?” He let out a loud, echoing laugh that filled the narrow brig’s hallways.
The saiyan’s tail curled and writhed in irritation. His thick fingers wrapped about the bars of the cell, and his head clanged as he rest it against the door. “Listen, little one. I don’t know if you understand this part yet, but you’re the prisoner here. You eat, sleep, breath and crap when and if I tell you to,” the dark haired man grinned and closed his eyes, “You are the galaxy we’re conquering.” Pushing himself back from the intimate moment, he turned away, “You may do well to remember that.”
He hardly noticed the lithe alien arm slide through bars as they wrapped around his neck, slamming him backwards into the door. “Wha-“ the guard managed before his throat closed from the pressure of the choke.
Orsalis screamed from behind the bars, pulling the hefty alien into the fam as firmly as he could manage after days of starvation and torture. The burly victim lifted both arms up and attempted to pry the thin assailant from his neck.
Struggling forward as the precious oxygen fled from his brain, he finally managed to pull a single arm from him, allowing him the leaverage to push forward from the choke and gasp out, “Now I’ve gotcha ye lil’…”
His eyes widened with confusion as a third ropey appendage wrapped about his airway, crushing down upon him with vicious force. A few moments of helpless thrashing was all the battle-hardened soldier could endure before he slipped into unconsciousness.
Orsalis allowed his tail to release from the saiyan’s neck, his body slumping to the ground. He unclasped the wrist band with the tip of the tail, dragging it up and running it across the sensor near his prison cell. The edges of the door hissed, and the white door slid into the ergonomic walls around it.
Allowing the last of his restraints to fall to the floor, he grinned, and stepped into the light.
Age: 38
Race: Changeling
Sex: Male
Starting Planet: Outer Space
Profession: Marital Artist
Fighting Style: Stylized marital arts, much like Earthly kung-fu
Short Bio:
Kept high atop the mountains, Orasalis was seen by the monks that raised him as a blessing from the Gods. His keen ability to look into the hearts and minds of those around him gave him the unique ability to mimic their every move and action. His lips would meld to the shape of the other’s, and their voice would become his. His fingers would curl as theirs did, and even the depth of his eyes would reflect the hopes and dreams of his subjects.
These powers were not supernatural, only the product of the child’s great ability to observe and replicate. Many called him the Living Mirror, dancing from behind the silver frame of his youthful body. His keen eyes would be the source of legend and praise from the entire city in which he inhabited.
However, fame was only so much for the child. As he grew, as did his ambitions, and he wished only to escape the constraints of the cloister and venture forward into the world around him. Late one night, he slipped from a window and dashed from the tops of the mountain down into the world below.
He joined a large training facility for martial artists, and learned as though he was one of the masters. Soon, he rose to the top ranks of the school, and was at the Grand Master’s heel on every occasion. He never proved to have the social graces or tactical mind of a military or martial master, but his ability to adapt to and overcome any foe he was faced with was something that gained admiration from the public.
When the Saiyans attacked his home village, he fought valiantly, but was overcome by the warrior race. During the conflict, his face and head were irrevocably scarred by his opponent’s powerful energy attacks, which also disabled the warrior for a time. During this period, he was captured and processed for slavery, shipped towards a mineral rich asteroid belt in deep space.
General Description:
A deep colored changeling, his skin is a light tint of blue, the darker purple patches bordering on black. The dark, reflective surface atop his head is a prismatic deep purple, gleaming like a massive jewel atop the crown of his thick brow.
A long, deep scar runs diagonally across his face, leaving him with an uncovered black pit instead of a right eye, and the horn on the same side is burnt cleanly in half. The scar runs over his cheek and lip as well, leaving it a noticeable and gruesome reminder. His naturally blackened nails extend long past the finger, curving slightly at the hardened end.
He wears a dark blue shoulder scarf, the name of his trainers on each cuff. He wears no chest plate for armor or anything upon his upper half for that matter, a pair of loose training trousers covering his legs.
His tail lashes about behind him at all times, striking objects that he passes by absentmindedly. A constant smirk rides upon his lips, and he almost instinctively tightens his fingers at the slightest sign of discourse.
A foul stink of sulfur follows him, both from the waters he bathes in, but from the stink of the bizarres he had come to be so accustomed to upon his home planet. This smell fades after any extended amount of time he has spent off-world, but his routine is well more than capable of allowing the stench to follow him for several months.
Starting Abilities: Mimic, Martial Arts Specialization
Trait: Lone Wolf
Stats:
• Strength - 20%
• Focus - 30%
• Endurance - 20%
• Agility - 30%
Role-play Sample:
There was not much Orsalis could do with the cold metal cuffs that confined his hands, feet and tail, but that hadn’t stopped him from openly mocking his captors from his cell.
“Hey there, monkey boy!” his cool, raspy and almost feminine voice called out, “You just making your rounds again? Trying to avoid more work I see!” His busted lips curled into a smile, “We always seemed to have more work ethic than your kind. I suppose that’s why you haven’t managed to conquer the galaxy yet, huh?” He let out a loud, echoing laugh that filled the narrow brig’s hallways.
The saiyan’s tail curled and writhed in irritation. His thick fingers wrapped about the bars of the cell, and his head clanged as he rest it against the door. “Listen, little one. I don’t know if you understand this part yet, but you’re the prisoner here. You eat, sleep, breath and crap when and if I tell you to,” the dark haired man grinned and closed his eyes, “You are the galaxy we’re conquering.” Pushing himself back from the intimate moment, he turned away, “You may do well to remember that.”
He hardly noticed the lithe alien arm slide through bars as they wrapped around his neck, slamming him backwards into the door. “Wha-“ the guard managed before his throat closed from the pressure of the choke.
Orsalis screamed from behind the bars, pulling the hefty alien into the fam as firmly as he could manage after days of starvation and torture. The burly victim lifted both arms up and attempted to pry the thin assailant from his neck.
Struggling forward as the precious oxygen fled from his brain, he finally managed to pull a single arm from him, allowing him the leaverage to push forward from the choke and gasp out, “Now I’ve gotcha ye lil’…”
His eyes widened with confusion as a third ropey appendage wrapped about his airway, crushing down upon him with vicious force. A few moments of helpless thrashing was all the battle-hardened soldier could endure before he slipped into unconsciousness.
Orsalis allowed his tail to release from the saiyan’s neck, his body slumping to the ground. He unclasped the wrist band with the tip of the tail, dragging it up and running it across the sensor near his prison cell. The edges of the door hissed, and the white door slid into the ergonomic walls around it.
Allowing the last of his restraints to fall to the floor, he grinned, and stepped into the light.
![[Image: OrionAug11.jpg]](http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b187/captain_civic/OrionAug11.jpg)
![[Image: Viper-Adjusted-Mini-Sig.png]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v308/OBLCDiomedes/Viper-Adjusted-Mini-Sig.png)
![[Image: Trixie-Mini-Sig-Fixed.png]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v308/OBLCDiomedes/Recent%20Signatures/Trixie-Mini-Sig-Fixed.png)