Post by Darrell Irani on Feb 20, 2015 14:42:46 GMT -7
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION & PERSONALITY
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 28
Height: 6'4"
Skill Set: Infiltrator
Rank: Crime Lord / Mercenary
Ain’t much one can say ‘bout me. Pretty tall, no regularity in there, most of my days I tower over all but a few people I encounter. Lean too, time in the military- hell time dodging knives in the streets of Chigaco was enough to blow off any fat I might have had. Can’t really say anything more, tall, lean, some people say I am attractive, but I ain’t gonna be judging about that.
‘Cause there are half as much people claiming I am the most scary asshole you will ever lay your eyes on. Something in those icy blue eyes, if ya gotta believe ‘em. Dead. Soulless. Can’t really say what’s up with that, some part of me (the dickish part) likes to believe that they are just seeing a reflection of themselves.
Didn’t even introduce myself, apologies, Darrell Irani and I am the most arrogant bastard you will probably meet in this galaxy. Ain’t even kidding ya, some people take it for a joke, or some self-aware irony… but I never believed that having a good dose of self-knowledge stops you from loving yourself.
So here is the truth, I am arrogant. I can be a jackass every once in a while, ruthless when the situation demands it and perhaps just a little bit single-minded. Point I am trying to make is… I ain’t perfect, but who the hell is in this frekked up galaxy we live in?
I take care of my own, do what needs to be done when a tough choice is presented, try to minimize the damage I do- can’t ask more than that, no?
Last Edit: Feb 20, 2015 14:44:21 GMT -7 by Darrell Irani
Post by Darrell Irani on Feb 20, 2015 14:43:56 GMT -7
Pre-RP History
Chicago, Illinois. 2149.
It was the year of birth of one Ezekiel Di’Ovma.
That is where we leave the realm of certainty and enter the domain of possibilities, because few if any people actually know what happened to the abandoned babe, crying in one of the shadowy corners of a dirty alleyway.
Assumptions can be made though.
One can assume that Ezekiel was found by a stranger, a man of unsavory quality that took the boy in and raised him as his own. But the understreets of Chicago ain’t a fairy tale and one can assume it was not a happy childhood, and yet… it was a childhood. More than the babe could have hoped for, had he been left to his own fate.
Years passed, the First Contact War waged and yet the boy remained ignorant. Focused solely on his own survival in the streets, stealing, fighting, whatever was necessary to survive.
One day, coincidentally it was the day of his eighteenth birthday, the boy known as Ezekiel Di’Ovma left the dirt. He had seen the pamphlets, heard the stories of adventures and thrill, and decided to sign with the Alliance.
Reportedly when his name was asked, the young lad pursed his lips in thought before shrugging and replying.
