Post by Deleted on Feb 13, 2012 22:15:12 GMT -5
* Name- Chopper
* Age- The clone trooper program was started in 22BBY, approximately ten years before Obi-Wan Kenobi tracked Jango Fett to Kamino. Troopers age twice as fast as any man, which means that at ten, Chopped looks around twenty.
* Gender- Male
* Species- Mandolorian, cloned on Kamino (Human)
* Affiliation- Republic - Grand Army of the Republic - Slick's Platoon (Possibly former Slick)
* Home World- Kamino/ Mandolore
* Appearance- As any clone, Chopper is a copy of Jango Fett, and therefore maintains the mandolorian fit and strong figure; he’s around 1.83 metres tall. However, during the battle of Geonosis, Chopper had received severe scarring on the right side of his face, and even though it has fully healed the scars are a constant reminder. Also (the warrior that he is) is proved by the discolouration of his right eye; a faded brown or dark yellow. He’s shaved his head and dyed it a dusty brown colour.
* Weapons- DC-15S Blaster as well as his rough and brute force in battle.
* Bio (short version)- Ever since the scarring on Geonosis, Chopper has always found a strong hatred… or to kindly put it, a strong distaste, to the separatists. He claims small objects as trophies, and strings them close at hand, feeling as if they ‘owe him’. The common trophies are droid fingers, delicately strung onto ropes to for necklaces. Much against the code, Chopper keeps them anyway, even lying to his superiors in order to keep them.
His comrades find him rather peculiar, finding joy and delight in “scraping the tinnies”, taking the lead in the charge in order to get his revenge. The hatred that is built up inside of him makes him rather irritable, sarcastic, crude humour and to the point of violence. He aggressively accused his own Sergeant’s ware bouts when being pressured with the spot light of being a spy.
While skilled in combat and marked worthy of said skill, he’s also very handy when it comes to machines; including robots and maintenance.
* Sample RP-
With one hand casually propping up his head on the dashboard, Chopper couldn’t resist a frustrated sigh. The other hand tapped a slow rhythm of keys on the display panel; slow and steady.
Tap.
What a drag.
Tap.
Such a bore.
Tap/
Why?! Why was he so stupid to play into the sergeant’s hands? Slick made him look guilty, framed him, and he would have gotten away, leaving Chopper to rot in prison. First his face, then his sergeant… look at what those separatists were doing to them all.
With an angry snort he shifted arms, resting his head in the other and continuing the rhythmic tapping. He slunk a little further into his seat, despising his new “temporary” position. Yeah okay, he was good with machines, but Chopper was a war horse; the proper place being on the front lines… in the front.
Dispirited, the helmet covered head hit the panel with a dull thud. The panel bleeped in protest, but Chopper could care less. He’d been typing in programming for days. This was it. He couldn’t take it anymore. This was not the proper place to be, it was all Slick’s fault. His trophies were confiscated and he had to start over.
Chopper groaned and stood up with a stretch. There was no one else in the room; they had all turned in early thank goodness for that. His joints popped from their lack of movement and blood soon returned their normal circulation. His toes were asleep. Quickly surveying the room, Chopper gently pulled off his helmet and set it on the control pannel. A hand instincly went to his throat to feel the corn that strapped his new collection of fingers close to heart. A smirk curled across his face, bringing a satisfied feeling with it.
The door hissed as it opened, and Chopper whipped himself into attention, hands and body stiff together. His helmet was swept up into his left arm as he turned to face the door.
“Sir!” He called steadily.
There was a pause, as a clone trooper came into focus at the door. “Feeling jumpy, Chopper?”
There was no time to dodge the helmet as Chopper chucked it at the trooper with a snarl. He stormed out without a response. He had to get home, home to the battle field.
Yourself
Name- Kimarie
Age- Shh…..
Years of (RP) experience- around 7 or 8, and it varies from characters and themes.
Character Roster
Erm…. Chopper? Troopers?
((Appologies, I believe my 'Tab' button is broken. I shall attempt to fix. ))
* Age- The clone trooper program was started in 22BBY, approximately ten years before Obi-Wan Kenobi tracked Jango Fett to Kamino. Troopers age twice as fast as any man, which means that at ten, Chopped looks around twenty.
* Gender- Male
* Species- Mandolorian, cloned on Kamino (Human)
* Affiliation- Republic - Grand Army of the Republic - Slick's Platoon (Possibly former Slick)
* Home World- Kamino/ Mandolore
* Appearance- As any clone, Chopper is a copy of Jango Fett, and therefore maintains the mandolorian fit and strong figure; he’s around 1.83 metres tall. However, during the battle of Geonosis, Chopper had received severe scarring on the right side of his face, and even though it has fully healed the scars are a constant reminder. Also (the warrior that he is) is proved by the discolouration of his right eye; a faded brown or dark yellow. He’s shaved his head and dyed it a dusty brown colour.
* Weapons- DC-15S Blaster as well as his rough and brute force in battle.
* Bio (short version)- Ever since the scarring on Geonosis, Chopper has always found a strong hatred… or to kindly put it, a strong distaste, to the separatists. He claims small objects as trophies, and strings them close at hand, feeling as if they ‘owe him’. The common trophies are droid fingers, delicately strung onto ropes to for necklaces. Much against the code, Chopper keeps them anyway, even lying to his superiors in order to keep them.
His comrades find him rather peculiar, finding joy and delight in “scraping the tinnies”, taking the lead in the charge in order to get his revenge. The hatred that is built up inside of him makes him rather irritable, sarcastic, crude humour and to the point of violence. He aggressively accused his own Sergeant’s ware bouts when being pressured with the spot light of being a spy.
While skilled in combat and marked worthy of said skill, he’s also very handy when it comes to machines; including robots and maintenance.
* Sample RP-
With one hand casually propping up his head on the dashboard, Chopper couldn’t resist a frustrated sigh. The other hand tapped a slow rhythm of keys on the display panel; slow and steady.
Tap.
What a drag.
Tap.
Such a bore.
Tap/
Why?! Why was he so stupid to play into the sergeant’s hands? Slick made him look guilty, framed him, and he would have gotten away, leaving Chopper to rot in prison. First his face, then his sergeant… look at what those separatists were doing to them all.
With an angry snort he shifted arms, resting his head in the other and continuing the rhythmic tapping. He slunk a little further into his seat, despising his new “temporary” position. Yeah okay, he was good with machines, but Chopper was a war horse; the proper place being on the front lines… in the front.
Dispirited, the helmet covered head hit the panel with a dull thud. The panel bleeped in protest, but Chopper could care less. He’d been typing in programming for days. This was it. He couldn’t take it anymore. This was not the proper place to be, it was all Slick’s fault. His trophies were confiscated and he had to start over.
Chopper groaned and stood up with a stretch. There was no one else in the room; they had all turned in early thank goodness for that. His joints popped from their lack of movement and blood soon returned their normal circulation. His toes were asleep. Quickly surveying the room, Chopper gently pulled off his helmet and set it on the control pannel. A hand instincly went to his throat to feel the corn that strapped his new collection of fingers close to heart. A smirk curled across his face, bringing a satisfied feeling with it.
The door hissed as it opened, and Chopper whipped himself into attention, hands and body stiff together. His helmet was swept up into his left arm as he turned to face the door.
“Sir!” He called steadily.
There was a pause, as a clone trooper came into focus at the door. “Feeling jumpy, Chopper?”
There was no time to dodge the helmet as Chopper chucked it at the trooper with a snarl. He stormed out without a response. He had to get home, home to the battle field.
Yourself
Name- Kimarie
Age- Shh…..
Years of (RP) experience- around 7 or 8, and it varies from characters and themes.
Character Roster
Erm…. Chopper? Troopers?
((Appologies, I believe my 'Tab' button is broken. I shall attempt to fix. ))
