Post by katara on Oct 2, 2007 21:41:09 GMT -5
Name: Jet
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Group: The Freedom Fighters
Nation: Earth
Bender?: No
Physical Appearance:
Jet has a body of an athlete: limber, graceful and strong. He is not a flexible man, giving into style, strength and speed of his fighting rather than dodging. His untamed deep chestnut brown hair is surprisingly well-groomed, a few shocks of it falling over his forehead. Jet has intense steel gray eyes, not unaccustomed to projecting hatred, but his eyes soften when around his gang and Katara.
His skin is a deep tan from hours spent in the sunny grasslands and his tree house in the woods. He has a very stern-looking face, his mouth almost always in a perpetual frown when working and his eyebrows furrowed. He has a thin nose, capped off by a narrow face. Jet looks entirely like two different people when working and making jokes around the camp.
Jet is defined by his tall stature with broad shoulders. He is everything a leader is supposed to look like. He has well defined muscles. His arms and legs are bulky, although not with fat. He has large hands, slightly calloused and very capable. His feet are not very big, surprising for his six foot stature.
Clothing/Armor:
Jet appears to be a typical rouge character, living off scrounging and thieving until one sees his swords. Jet wears a leather jerkin, coarse from use and wear, but still protective. Numerous tears and burns scar the outside of his jerkin, tributes to all the past encounters with the fire nation. His pants are also crafted of leather, even in a worst condition than his shirt. Parts of his pants are worn completely away, revealing his tanned muscles underneath.
His shoes and gloves are both made of leather also, toughened and stiff, even with specks of blood on them. They are also partly charred from life-death encounters. Mismatching shoulder and thigh guards decorate his body. They are dented and scratched in many places, ready to be replaced, if only he had the means to do that.
Across his back his swords are fastened by leather strips, completing his look of a rogue. But his appearance is never complete without his traditional piece of hay sticking out of his mouth, giving him a farm boy appearance, but nobody would dare tell him that, given his physical appearance.
Weapons:
Jet is a proficient warrior, mostly self-taught or taught by the ones around him. Although he lacks bending powers, he makes up by his skill with his dual hooked swords. The two swords are his only recollection of his father. Made of the finest steel, the hooks at the end are used to trap opponent's weapons or limbs. The handles are gold with leather grips and boasts a steel half-moon protection for the wielder.
Jet is also educated in the use of a bow, taught by Longshot, though he hardly uses one because of his love for his dual swords. Jet is also capable in the use of a spear, learning from fighting numerous fire nation regiments which he attacked over the years.
Personality:
Jet is a stubborn, cunning man driven by the love for his father and his hatred for the fire nation. He is a solid dependable man, a born leader for the rogues. Jet has very good planning skills, operating both in and out of battle, but he can get carried away with both his words and his actions. He is not an altogether patient man, albeit a rash one. He feels compassion and love towards his family, his gang of rogues and Katara. He is a compassionate man towards his loved ones, but a cold-blooded harsh man to people whom he perceives as his enemies.
After being driven out of the forest, Jet underwent a change, bringing him to Ba Sing Se. Now he regrets more of his actions and turns more compassionate and less violent. He realizes that there is little he can do for the war. He is still a rash person, impulsive to his emotions both towards hatred and love.
When Jet is not training to beat the Fire Nation, he loves to pull practical jokes on his gang. Once, he smothered a sticky resin from the pine-banana tree onto all the weapons of his gang. In the middle of the night, he yelled, "Ambush!". A jumble of confusion ensued, resulting in a sticky mess of madness, which Jet watched with glee. As dawn approached Jet laughed himself hoarse. Longshot's hand was stuck to Pipsqueak's face, Smellerbee was biting a log and Sneers fist was stuck to a branch. Apart from his practical jokes, Jet loved to play games such as throwing acorns past Pipsqueak into a bucket and hide and seek.
Background:
His earliest memories grew from a tiny cottage on the rolling farmlands near Omashu. His family's cottage was part of a small group, hardly classified as a village. As a young boy, his father was sent away to war against the dreaded Fire Nation, leaving Jet alone with his mother and all the other women and children of the village. Jet objected to being left behind, claiming that he also knew how to fight. His father taught him some basics, but even then, Jet could hardly wield a sword because of its weight.
Jet's early life was a time of bliss and tranquility, unperturbed by any violence. Although he never proved himself in a real battle, his leisure time was spent in the forests and vast farmlands playing games such as "crush the fire bender". It is not surprising that Jet was no good at these games, harboring no skill in earth bending. Instead young Jet used two long poles as his weapons, imitating his father in battle.
As the years passed, the image of his father turned from a loss to a memory to a dream. Jet idolized his father, thinking him as the greatest man in the world. His relation with his mother was more distant, leaving Jet more freedom to wander the forest. It was tradition for the father to teach his son respect, honor and values until he passed into manhood, but Jet was allowed to run free.
During his eighth summer, Jet's life changed forever. It was a hot dusty summer day, perfect to play in the shaded woods. Jet was on his way out when he sighted a giant dust cloud rising from the distance. His curiosity getting the better of him, Jet climbed the nearest hill and peeked over it to see the most terrifying sight of his young life. His father was back, riding full speed on his ostrich horse, with both his hooked swords unsheathed and stained red with blood. Another man rode behind him, his ostrich horse suddenly stumbling with weariness, throwing its rider to the ground. The fallen warrior struggled to his feet and drew his broadsword, turning away from the village to face the fast-approaching dust cloud.
Jet, unaware of the ominous danger, proceeded to run back down the hill, eager to embrace his father once again. As he rose from his crouched form on top of the hill, his father sighted his slight figure, a look of anguish and fear crossed his chiseled features. Jet, confused by his reaction started towards his father, tripping over a tree root. He felt pain and then a crack. Jet knew from his previous adventures in the forest playing games that his ankle was broken.
Helplessly, Jet turned to the carnage unfolding below him. The fallen soldier jumped at the first of the fire nation troops, riding a rhino. The soldier had no chance, the fire nation soldier batting him off with his lance to be trampled by the two-ton monstrosity. Jet felt a flicker of hope as his father brought out his bow and shot down the soldier, releasing the rhino to rampage freely. But that flicker was extinguished when he saw the sheer number of the fire nation's seventeenth battalion.
The village had no chance against the swarming army, within minutes the whole village was aflame, all the citizens slain and the army once again gone. Jet dragged his body back to his village, hardly able to bear the heat and the stench of death. He collapsed by his father's prone form, tears clouding his vision and his senses. He lost all track of time until a weak groan emitted from his father's mouth.
"Jet, listen to me. Take my swords, may they protect you forever. Make me proud son. Make me proud." he muttered.
Those were the last words that his father ever spoke. They echoed in Jet's head for years to come.
The young children of the village were still in the forest, hiding and too frightened to react to the carnage. The oldest boy came out slowly, cautiously to help Jet stumble back to the relative safety of the trees. For weeks, the boys camped on the edge of the forest, sleeping under the cover of leaves and foraging for whatever food they could find. Slowly, their fear of the village was overcome by need for their belongings. One day, all the uninjured boys left to scrounge in the wreckage. Unfortunately, the Fire Nation troops came back, leaving none alive. Jet, limped deeper into the forest, escaping the carnage for a second time, wracked with guilt and remorse about being helpless. He swore never to feel attached to anything or anybody again.
Jet wandered along the roads and in the forest, from village to village, begging for scraps of food or money, barely surviving. When the villagers got tired of him, he moved on to the next village. He mourned the death of his village, his friends and his mother, but most of all he mourned the loss of his father. In that short span of a few weeks, it changed his fun-loving personality into a withdrawn person.
Jet lived like this until years to come when he first came across other orphans. Even more bedraggled than him, Smellerbee and Longshot convinced him there was more to life than scavanging for food and cowering from the Fire Nation.
The bunch of vagabonds took over the forest, led by Jet himself. They did anything possible to hinder the fire nation. Repeatedly they raided campsites, villages and travelers from the fire nation, showing little or no mercy. The whole group harbored a hate for the Fire Nation so great that just about nothing could stop them.
Until this group that fancied themselves "Freedom Fighters" finally met the avatar and his companions.
As Jet struggled against the bonds of ice securing him to the tree, he had time to think, to really think about Katara's words. They stung, no doubt, but was it true? Were they truly as bad as the fire nation? As he slumped there by the tree, he could still hear his father's words echoing in his head.
Make me proud, son. Make me proud.
Sample RP:
The sun glared off his shining dual swords, they were viciously hooked and sharpened to a point. Along his belt, a dagger hung, along with a short mace. Jet was fully equipped with battle gear. He had plates over his shoulders, arms and legs, leaving the joints free to move. His torso was covered by hard leather. His head bore no helmet, leaving his hair to whip around in the wind.
The final preparations were being made with the battle plan. he surveyed the other generals with calculating eyes. To his left was Katara, wearing her simple water bending clothes, confident in her ability to defend herself. On his right was Aang, the avatar, wearing his simple nomad uniform. Then there was Sokka. Worry clouded his eyes, he seriously doubted the choice to pick him as a general.
The plans finally completed, Jet took his place in front of his army, armor and swords gleaming in the early morn sun. Jet raised his dual swords and glared at the opposing ranks of the fire nation.
Just as the sky darkened, he thought to himself, "Father, today is the day I will make you proud."
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Group: The Freedom Fighters
Nation: Earth
Bender?: No
Physical Appearance:
Jet has a body of an athlete: limber, graceful and strong. He is not a flexible man, giving into style, strength and speed of his fighting rather than dodging. His untamed deep chestnut brown hair is surprisingly well-groomed, a few shocks of it falling over his forehead. Jet has intense steel gray eyes, not unaccustomed to projecting hatred, but his eyes soften when around his gang and Katara.
His skin is a deep tan from hours spent in the sunny grasslands and his tree house in the woods. He has a very stern-looking face, his mouth almost always in a perpetual frown when working and his eyebrows furrowed. He has a thin nose, capped off by a narrow face. Jet looks entirely like two different people when working and making jokes around the camp.
Jet is defined by his tall stature with broad shoulders. He is everything a leader is supposed to look like. He has well defined muscles. His arms and legs are bulky, although not with fat. He has large hands, slightly calloused and very capable. His feet are not very big, surprising for his six foot stature.
Clothing/Armor:
Jet appears to be a typical rouge character, living off scrounging and thieving until one sees his swords. Jet wears a leather jerkin, coarse from use and wear, but still protective. Numerous tears and burns scar the outside of his jerkin, tributes to all the past encounters with the fire nation. His pants are also crafted of leather, even in a worst condition than his shirt. Parts of his pants are worn completely away, revealing his tanned muscles underneath.
His shoes and gloves are both made of leather also, toughened and stiff, even with specks of blood on them. They are also partly charred from life-death encounters. Mismatching shoulder and thigh guards decorate his body. They are dented and scratched in many places, ready to be replaced, if only he had the means to do that.
Across his back his swords are fastened by leather strips, completing his look of a rogue. But his appearance is never complete without his traditional piece of hay sticking out of his mouth, giving him a farm boy appearance, but nobody would dare tell him that, given his physical appearance.
Weapons:
Jet is a proficient warrior, mostly self-taught or taught by the ones around him. Although he lacks bending powers, he makes up by his skill with his dual hooked swords. The two swords are his only recollection of his father. Made of the finest steel, the hooks at the end are used to trap opponent's weapons or limbs. The handles are gold with leather grips and boasts a steel half-moon protection for the wielder.
Jet is also educated in the use of a bow, taught by Longshot, though he hardly uses one because of his love for his dual swords. Jet is also capable in the use of a spear, learning from fighting numerous fire nation regiments which he attacked over the years.
Personality:
Jet is a stubborn, cunning man driven by the love for his father and his hatred for the fire nation. He is a solid dependable man, a born leader for the rogues. Jet has very good planning skills, operating both in and out of battle, but he can get carried away with both his words and his actions. He is not an altogether patient man, albeit a rash one. He feels compassion and love towards his family, his gang of rogues and Katara. He is a compassionate man towards his loved ones, but a cold-blooded harsh man to people whom he perceives as his enemies.
After being driven out of the forest, Jet underwent a change, bringing him to Ba Sing Se. Now he regrets more of his actions and turns more compassionate and less violent. He realizes that there is little he can do for the war. He is still a rash person, impulsive to his emotions both towards hatred and love.
When Jet is not training to beat the Fire Nation, he loves to pull practical jokes on his gang. Once, he smothered a sticky resin from the pine-banana tree onto all the weapons of his gang. In the middle of the night, he yelled, "Ambush!". A jumble of confusion ensued, resulting in a sticky mess of madness, which Jet watched with glee. As dawn approached Jet laughed himself hoarse. Longshot's hand was stuck to Pipsqueak's face, Smellerbee was biting a log and Sneers fist was stuck to a branch. Apart from his practical jokes, Jet loved to play games such as throwing acorns past Pipsqueak into a bucket and hide and seek.
Background:
His earliest memories grew from a tiny cottage on the rolling farmlands near Omashu. His family's cottage was part of a small group, hardly classified as a village. As a young boy, his father was sent away to war against the dreaded Fire Nation, leaving Jet alone with his mother and all the other women and children of the village. Jet objected to being left behind, claiming that he also knew how to fight. His father taught him some basics, but even then, Jet could hardly wield a sword because of its weight.
Jet's early life was a time of bliss and tranquility, unperturbed by any violence. Although he never proved himself in a real battle, his leisure time was spent in the forests and vast farmlands playing games such as "crush the fire bender". It is not surprising that Jet was no good at these games, harboring no skill in earth bending. Instead young Jet used two long poles as his weapons, imitating his father in battle.
As the years passed, the image of his father turned from a loss to a memory to a dream. Jet idolized his father, thinking him as the greatest man in the world. His relation with his mother was more distant, leaving Jet more freedom to wander the forest. It was tradition for the father to teach his son respect, honor and values until he passed into manhood, but Jet was allowed to run free.
During his eighth summer, Jet's life changed forever. It was a hot dusty summer day, perfect to play in the shaded woods. Jet was on his way out when he sighted a giant dust cloud rising from the distance. His curiosity getting the better of him, Jet climbed the nearest hill and peeked over it to see the most terrifying sight of his young life. His father was back, riding full speed on his ostrich horse, with both his hooked swords unsheathed and stained red with blood. Another man rode behind him, his ostrich horse suddenly stumbling with weariness, throwing its rider to the ground. The fallen warrior struggled to his feet and drew his broadsword, turning away from the village to face the fast-approaching dust cloud.
Jet, unaware of the ominous danger, proceeded to run back down the hill, eager to embrace his father once again. As he rose from his crouched form on top of the hill, his father sighted his slight figure, a look of anguish and fear crossed his chiseled features. Jet, confused by his reaction started towards his father, tripping over a tree root. He felt pain and then a crack. Jet knew from his previous adventures in the forest playing games that his ankle was broken.
Helplessly, Jet turned to the carnage unfolding below him. The fallen soldier jumped at the first of the fire nation troops, riding a rhino. The soldier had no chance, the fire nation soldier batting him off with his lance to be trampled by the two-ton monstrosity. Jet felt a flicker of hope as his father brought out his bow and shot down the soldier, releasing the rhino to rampage freely. But that flicker was extinguished when he saw the sheer number of the fire nation's seventeenth battalion.
The village had no chance against the swarming army, within minutes the whole village was aflame, all the citizens slain and the army once again gone. Jet dragged his body back to his village, hardly able to bear the heat and the stench of death. He collapsed by his father's prone form, tears clouding his vision and his senses. He lost all track of time until a weak groan emitted from his father's mouth.
"Jet, listen to me. Take my swords, may they protect you forever. Make me proud son. Make me proud." he muttered.
Those were the last words that his father ever spoke. They echoed in Jet's head for years to come.
The young children of the village were still in the forest, hiding and too frightened to react to the carnage. The oldest boy came out slowly, cautiously to help Jet stumble back to the relative safety of the trees. For weeks, the boys camped on the edge of the forest, sleeping under the cover of leaves and foraging for whatever food they could find. Slowly, their fear of the village was overcome by need for their belongings. One day, all the uninjured boys left to scrounge in the wreckage. Unfortunately, the Fire Nation troops came back, leaving none alive. Jet, limped deeper into the forest, escaping the carnage for a second time, wracked with guilt and remorse about being helpless. He swore never to feel attached to anything or anybody again.
Jet wandered along the roads and in the forest, from village to village, begging for scraps of food or money, barely surviving. When the villagers got tired of him, he moved on to the next village. He mourned the death of his village, his friends and his mother, but most of all he mourned the loss of his father. In that short span of a few weeks, it changed his fun-loving personality into a withdrawn person.
Jet lived like this until years to come when he first came across other orphans. Even more bedraggled than him, Smellerbee and Longshot convinced him there was more to life than scavanging for food and cowering from the Fire Nation.
The bunch of vagabonds took over the forest, led by Jet himself. They did anything possible to hinder the fire nation. Repeatedly they raided campsites, villages and travelers from the fire nation, showing little or no mercy. The whole group harbored a hate for the Fire Nation so great that just about nothing could stop them.
Until this group that fancied themselves "Freedom Fighters" finally met the avatar and his companions.
As Jet struggled against the bonds of ice securing him to the tree, he had time to think, to really think about Katara's words. They stung, no doubt, but was it true? Were they truly as bad as the fire nation? As he slumped there by the tree, he could still hear his father's words echoing in his head.
Make me proud, son. Make me proud.
Sample RP:
The sun glared off his shining dual swords, they were viciously hooked and sharpened to a point. Along his belt, a dagger hung, along with a short mace. Jet was fully equipped with battle gear. He had plates over his shoulders, arms and legs, leaving the joints free to move. His torso was covered by hard leather. His head bore no helmet, leaving his hair to whip around in the wind.
The final preparations were being made with the battle plan. he surveyed the other generals with calculating eyes. To his left was Katara, wearing her simple water bending clothes, confident in her ability to defend herself. On his right was Aang, the avatar, wearing his simple nomad uniform. Then there was Sokka. Worry clouded his eyes, he seriously doubted the choice to pick him as a general.
The plans finally completed, Jet took his place in front of his army, armor and swords gleaming in the early morn sun. Jet raised his dual swords and glared at the opposing ranks of the fire nation.
Just as the sky darkened, he thought to himself, "Father, today is the day I will make you proud."