Post by RISK on Jun 14, 2011 0:28:42 GMT -5
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Marco Muhammad Mavros
~Vitals~
~Name: Marco Mavros
~Title: Prince of Eyrie
~Nicknames: "Tombstone"
~Age: 31 in earth years 11 in Rakelan years
~Gender: Male
~Race: ½Rakelan ½Human (Rakelan resemble humans except for their Grey skin, and blood red or emerald green hair.)
~Planet of Origin: Tomb
~Sexuality: Asexual
~Faction: The Force
~Reputation: Trouble-maker
~Specialty:
~Former Life: 2nd Prince of Eyrie, a city-state on Tomb
~In Combat~
~POWERS:
Stone Skin: A Rakelan's skin is hard as stone, and is very difficult to break through. This can be problematic if they receive internal injuries.
Night-Sight: All Rakelans have developed dark-sensitive retinas, allowing them to see in even the darkest places. In brighter places they tend to wear shades.
~Weapons and Equipment: Ceremonial Rakelan Sabre, Anti-Material Rifle, 9mm Pistol
~Skills: Swordsmanship, Marksmanship, Stealth
~Former training: Sniper training, Force training
~A Face to Fear~
~Height: 6,4
~Weight: 214 lbs
~Hair Color: Red
~Hair Style: Mohawk
~Eye Color: Red
~Play-By: Martin Scorsese
~Clothing Style: Black shades, black leather duster, black stealth pants, & black army boots.
~Distinguishing Features: Grey skin, red hair and eyes.
~OVERALL APPEARANCE:
A very tall man is Marco Mavros, he's just bigger than your usual Rakelan. He's got a near-perfect, sculpted body, which he covers with a green leather jacket, black army pants and boots, and a black undershirt. He wears black shades to protect his sensitive eyes. His hair takes the shape of a short, crimson Mohawk. His face is thinner and his nose pointier than his father's, taking more after his mother, and you wouldn't think he was his father's son at all at first glance.
~Beneath the Exterior~
~Likes: Pears, darts, cider, cooking, having fun
~Dislikes: Loud noises, bright lights, bitter things, murder of innocents
~Fears: The death of a friend, to be forgotten
~Weaknesses: Uneven terrain, bright lights, internal bleeding, careless
~Strengths: Tall foliage, high levels, flat terrain, low-light spaces
~Goals: To rule Eyrie, to reclaim his father's sword
~Hobbies: Swordsmanship, hunting, gambling, cooking
~OVERALL PERSONALITY: While being a bit of a loner at times, Marco likes to be a little of a wise-ass, which is accepted at most jobs, except in the Force. He'll be scolded by his superiors on a regular basis for his carelessness and his laid-back demeanor. He shares in his father's hatred of being double-crossed, and will personally hunt down anyone who betrays him, as well as his father's lack of interest in romance or sex.. He's partial to Rakelan ale, but being half-human, he can only ingest little bits of it at a time. Like his father before him, he hates the thought of someone betraying him, he loves music, and is a great cook.
~Rap and History~
~Mother: Helena Muhammad
~Father: Rea Mavros Sr.
~Siblings: Rea Mavros Jr.
~Other relations: Cousin Arvina Mavros
~Companions:
~OVERALL HISTORY: The City-state of Eyrie was destined to be the moment Ream Mavros'' ship crash-landed on the surface of Tomb, in the city-state of Maw. He had returned to his home planet after the Aengel's final battle which killed off the Aengel's Eyrie. Over the course of the battle, Rea had lost a leg, two fingers, his Sabre, and all of his friends to the Force. The people of Maw dragged his carcass to their infirmary, where they patched up his wounds, and outfitted him with a new, prosthetic leg. In the following years, Rea used his sharp-shooting and sleuthing expertise to help the people of Maw greatly. When the king's only heir died of disease, he called for a vote for who the new prince should be, and Rea was elected with no opposition.
In the following decade, Maw absorbed it's next-door neighbor, a tiny city-state called Pel'k in order to defeated the one next to that, a farely large city-state called called Russo. This series led to a new country, which King Mavros decided to call "The Eyrie", making Eyrie the 3rd largest nation on Tomb.
After this, Rea married a Human tourist named Helena Muhammad, a wise young woman who's untapped tactical genius would save Eyrie and Rea many times in the future, In the meantime, Rea and Helena had two sons, the first they named Rea Mavros II, a name which somewhat embarrassed him. The second one they named Marco Mavros, after Helena's father. The two sons grew to be opposites. With Rea showing prowess in hand-to hand and melee combat, and Marco being a crack-shot with almost any gun he could carry.
Marco and King Mavros had more in common with each other, but Rea II looked like a near-replica of his father's image, and therefor the people took to him better than Marco. Rea II also was the eldest, and therefor, was the heir to the throne. Marco felt as if he should have been the heir to the throne, but there seemed to be no way to achieve this goal, so he joined the Eyrie Black Ops like his father before him. From the (Earth) ages of 8 to 18 he trained in and became the greatest of the Black Ops' sharpshooters. When he was 19, he decided to leave Eyrie and travel into the galaxy.
After a couple of years of wandering, he joined the Force, neglecting to inform them of who his father is and was, and instead, signed up as "Marco Muhammad. He made some friends with the other Initiates, and tried to balance out working tirelessly for weeks to be at the peak physical and mental condition, whilst still playing the wise-ass prankster. After a decade of training as an Initiate, and teaching as a Deputy, he was promoted to the rank of Warden.
~Writing Sample~
The selling points of being a Warden to small children is the fit body, and the do-ing of cool adventures. Marco Mavros, or "Warden Muhammud" as he was now known, had just gotten back to his apartment after apprehending a three-hundred pound cannibal. And those pounds weren't in fat either.
Some Wardens kept the peace by setting fights peacefully or stopping bank robberies, but he had to get stuck with kicking down a door to a butcher shop full of dead people, who were being put into bacon or some shit.
While he knew he wasn't a human, humans look a lot like Rakelans, and seeing a bunch of them hanging from hooks on the ceiling, are enough to make one wet their pants. Not that that had necessarily been Marco Marvros.
He hung up his leather jacket on his coat hanger, whilst he tried not to vomit, again, and then he headed into his small bathroom. He tore off the rest of his clothes and stepped into his shower, only to be greeted with ice-cold water running down his face. But he stayed in the shower until his lips began to turn blue, and the he dried off.
But as he was slipping back into his jeans, he heard a clicking noise emminating from his front door. He picked up his stranded-issue pistol and crept towards his door. It flung open violently and struck him in the temple. He dropped the gun and tried for a drunken haymaker, but his assailant dodged it and put him into a hammerlock, grabbed the back of his head, and slammed his forehead into the wall.
He stumbled back and fell through his coffee table with a crash. Dizzily he began to make out his attacker. Emerald hair, white-grey skin, and bright red eyes identified her as his distant cousin Arvina Mavros, and the two of them together in the same room was almost an improbability, seeing as how most Rakelans preferred to stay on their home world and it's moons.
She grinned down at him as if they were playing a game of Grooble, and she just drew a 14-letter word. "I thought Wardens were supposed to have better instincts than anyone else." she said gleefully.
"Most do" Marco replied, cracking his nose back into place with his thumb and forefinger. "Mainly because most people don't have military training, and eat hamburgers, what's it to you?"
"I guess I no longer feel protected against the dangers of the galaxy." She said with mock-disappointment, whilst pulling him to his feet. He staggered for a moment and held his head. "Why'd you have to hit so hard?" Arvina cocked an eyebrow at him. "Quit being such a whiner."
Then her complexion turned serious. "Marco, what are you doing?" she asked, "You're working for The Force? The people who almost killed your father, and stole his sword?" Marco turned away and scratched his head.
"What can I say? I want to get stronger. And these people are the strongest. And who knows, maybe one of these guys has dad's sword hanging over their mantelpiece!" He turned back and looked her in the eye. "If I bring him that sword, maybe, just maybe he'll make the heir."
Arvina sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. "Just be careful Marco, you may be good, but there are many that are better." Then she turned and began to leave. "You didn't come all this way just to tell me that, did you?"
Actually, I'm just letting you know that I'm going to be tailing a Force Warden who-shall-not-be-named-at-this-time." Marco raised his eyebrows at her. "This Force agent will be leaving behind information for me...without his knowledge of course..."
Marco rubbed his eyes. "Of course. But, pray tell, what will this Warden be leaving you?" She smiled. "Oh, you know, Force weapon and ship schismatics, tactics, stuff like that." Marco paced around and rubbed his chin. "Alright, alright. I'm sure that this unnamed Warden of whom you speak, will leave several guns and magazines, maybe even in the dumpsters behind this building."
"I see." She replied, turning once again to leave. "Stay safe out there Marco, if you ever need any help, I'll be here." Then she was gone, leaving Marco to fix his door and paint over the crack in his wall. But despite his troubles, he felt a lot better now.
