Post by Sam on Jun 13, 2010 21:43:23 GMT -5
Name: Tu Cenk
Nickname: None
Age: 32
Sex: Male
Personality: A short-tempered trigger-happy little Napoleon in a pressure suit. Loves above all else getting what he wants. Has an extremely enigmatical streak of bloodlust. Though these traits seem to speak of carelessness, he is anything but, valuing cleanliness and tidiness greatly. He personally expects his suit for any dints and scratches he could have endured in his day to day exploits, and has three spare suits in case one is ever beyond repair, or would take longer than he could spare. Has his own quarters compressed to a comfortable (survivable) pressure and has ammonia piped in, but the rest of his ship is oxygen.
He embodies many characteristics of a gangster, such as deep pride and morally ambiguous business habits. However, he does not answer to a ‘family’, instead he is his own boss, and his own soldier. He takes pride in that all the battles he fought had been battles won by him and, at most, two mercenaries. He stays on the good side of the law in Citadel space, making his ship less likely to be searched. However, he also holds himself above the regular riff-raff kill-‘em-all mercs found in the Terminus systems, killing only those who double cross him or openly attack. Though he is brutal, he is also quite gentlemanly when not killing.
Physical Appearance:
His suit is white and black, and has a greater number of ceramic plates covering him for protection. It bears a tiny white symbol in the upper left of his chest plate, three rectangles lying sideways. Whatever they symbolize, he isn’t telling. He specifically made his suit so that the breathing tubes go through or under the armor, for added protection. This makes his suit a bit more streamlined looking. His eye ports glow a light reddish white color. The tank of ammonia on his back is roughly double the size of a normal enviro-suit’s, and has a thick ceramic shell covering it, protecting it from damage. He has also modded it to hold a great many thermal clips.
His three other suits do not vary much, except in color changes. He has a red and gray one, a black and gold one, and a blue and yellow one. He uses the black and gold when he makes public appearances, at high-class parties for example. He also posed in it for Badass Weekly. His red and gray one was a prototype of his first design for the Volus Battle Armor, which he has kept around for ‘old-time’s sake’. The blue and yellow version was a proposed idea of his, which boosted biotic powers exponentially. Unfortunately, the market for biotic volus who would even use their powers, never mind supercharging them, was too small. The line was discontinued. He, not possessing any biotics himself, had no use for it.
Weapons/Equipment:
His suit and a pistol.
His suit is a specially made commissioned piece by Rosenkov Materials. As he grew in fame and as he began transporting more and more valuable things, he realized he needed more protection. So the Volus Battle Armor was created. Funding it with a few people who owed him favors, the assembly lines began cranking them out. They had the breathing tubes beneath the armor, no exposed, and an extra covering over the breather tank. Extra ceramic plates on the arm, thickened chest plates, and holders for thermal clips on the arms and legs. Also featuring were magnetic clamps to place the guns. The ceramic plates have been created as an eezo/ceramic alloy, and a micro-generator runs through a positive current through the armor when it is impacted by, say, a mass-accelerated grain of metal. This would allow users of the armor to waddle out of the way of combat without being perforated.
[Armor Plating]
[Shock Absorbers]
Though they sold well initially, to merchants like him with questionable business, the sales slowly dropped, and with them the suits. Though there are many still in circulation, Rosenkov has since stopped production of the line. Those possessing them are recognized as being the kind of volus who goes looking for danger… or starting it.
His pistol is nowhere near as fancy. A simple Karpov X with hammerhead rounds and a kinetic coil and heat sink.
Profession: Merchant
Allegiance: His own.
Rank: Registered by the Citadel as ‘Military Grade Offensive/Defensive Hardware and Supplies Shipping Service”
Home Planet: Irune
History:
Born on Irune, Tu Cenk spent three years of his life there before moving to the Citadel. There he was educated by his father and his school in pan-galactic economy. Exchange rates, trade routes, how to play the stock market, investments, all the basics. He took to it like no other student. Ten years later, the family moved back to Irune as the father followed his job as a banker. There, Tu Cenk finished his education and joined a prestigious university. Double-majoring in finance, he was a decorated valedictorian and was offered the job of teaching there. Turning it down, he left to the Citadel.
Here he began his work, as a business man in many goods, all which were perfectly legal. Playing the stock market and being frugal in his spending, he soon amassed a comfortable sum of money. With it he bought a ship, brand new, human made Kowloon class. He began conducting his business from there, saying goodbye to the Citadel.
After a few years of honest business aboard the MSV Superabundance, he began a small… slightly legal trade operation on the side. At first it was simply mining in forbidden space for rare materials, but soon it was secretive moving of large mining equipment… and then after years of this it moved on to more than ‘mining’ equipment.
Trafficking guns, machinery, raw materials, he saw the necessity of playing politics. Master of the loopholes, he legalized many of his mining sites. Around this time he used his influence in the Rosenkov Company to begin construction of the Volus Battle Armor.
Over the continued years of politicking he gained notoriety among many just like him, like Solomon Hock.
He recently earned himself an article in Badass Weekly.
RP Sample:
Tu Cenk sat in his room on the couch, naked. The room was pressurized to a comfortable level and the ammonia being piped in smelled like home. He was sitting on a small couch, purple and gold silk. It had cost him a lot, but the considering the amount he brought in on a daily basis it was hardly worth mentioning. Hell, this wasn’t even that high end of a material. The humans had such low standards compared to the others… the asari probably hadn’t had this grade of material since before they left their planet. Well, they could be forgiven, considering how far behind they were… and yet they were already going to get on the council. He grunted at the thought and inhaled deeply, leaning his neck back, trying to drive the thought form his mind. Uppity little creatures, humans. But they were useful. They had the military might to take on the turians, level head for money, and ruthless. They weren’t too bad… unfortunately, they were perhaps too good. They had joined within an average human’s lifetime and already they were getting close to being elected to the council. While his kind were delegated to an embassy.
He looked over to his computer as it came on, orange filling the comfortable captain’s quarters. His messages blinked, in the lower left hand corner, of the orange light-screen. Leaning forward, he pressed a pudgy finger into the icon, the chip he had installed in his hand making it feel like a solid surface. The video feed appeared in the center and expanded, clearing to crystal quality, showing the hulking body of an elcor. Tu Cenk recognized him, but couldn’t recall a name. Well, people rarely used names with those they thought to be their inferiors. Tu Cenk nodded, looking bored, for the elcor to begin.
“Humbly: Tu Cenk, it is an honor to finally meet you.” The large creature bowed its head as it droned its sentence out. “With urgency:” Tu Cenk found that funny, “I have contacted you with an important request. I realize this is informal, however its importance to me and my business ventures…” Tu Cenk waved his hand idly, cutting the elcor off.
“Get to the point, elcor. I am a very busy man.” Once more the elcor nodded deeply, Tu Cenk simply looking on bored.
“Cowed: Very well. Matter-of-factly: I need you to smuggle three thousand units of assorted military weapons and vehicles.” The elcor’s beady eyes seemed to implore Tu Cenk, but the volus kept his face solemn, unemotional.
“You know my prices, elcor. I do not care about the amount, only that the customer is willing to pay. I suggest you send me the information and credits immediately, for the fastest results. Such an amount will be difficult to procure and move safely…” The elcor nodded.
“With exceeding gratitude: Many thanks, Tu Cenk. You have my deepest…” Tu Cenk leaned forward and closed the message. Elcor were tiring to listen to, even more so to hold conversations with.
Far away, near the back of the trading floor on Ilium, the elcor stood silently, making sure the message had ended. “With unveiled malice: Thank you, Tu Cenk. In more ways than you realize now.”
Nickname: None
Age: 32
Sex: Male
Personality: A short-tempered trigger-happy little Napoleon in a pressure suit. Loves above all else getting what he wants. Has an extremely enigmatical streak of bloodlust. Though these traits seem to speak of carelessness, he is anything but, valuing cleanliness and tidiness greatly. He personally expects his suit for any dints and scratches he could have endured in his day to day exploits, and has three spare suits in case one is ever beyond repair, or would take longer than he could spare. Has his own quarters compressed to a comfortable (survivable) pressure and has ammonia piped in, but the rest of his ship is oxygen.
He embodies many characteristics of a gangster, such as deep pride and morally ambiguous business habits. However, he does not answer to a ‘family’, instead he is his own boss, and his own soldier. He takes pride in that all the battles he fought had been battles won by him and, at most, two mercenaries. He stays on the good side of the law in Citadel space, making his ship less likely to be searched. However, he also holds himself above the regular riff-raff kill-‘em-all mercs found in the Terminus systems, killing only those who double cross him or openly attack. Though he is brutal, he is also quite gentlemanly when not killing.
Physical Appearance:
His suit is white and black, and has a greater number of ceramic plates covering him for protection. It bears a tiny white symbol in the upper left of his chest plate, three rectangles lying sideways. Whatever they symbolize, he isn’t telling. He specifically made his suit so that the breathing tubes go through or under the armor, for added protection. This makes his suit a bit more streamlined looking. His eye ports glow a light reddish white color. The tank of ammonia on his back is roughly double the size of a normal enviro-suit’s, and has a thick ceramic shell covering it, protecting it from damage. He has also modded it to hold a great many thermal clips.
His three other suits do not vary much, except in color changes. He has a red and gray one, a black and gold one, and a blue and yellow one. He uses the black and gold when he makes public appearances, at high-class parties for example. He also posed in it for Badass Weekly. His red and gray one was a prototype of his first design for the Volus Battle Armor, which he has kept around for ‘old-time’s sake’. The blue and yellow version was a proposed idea of his, which boosted biotic powers exponentially. Unfortunately, the market for biotic volus who would even use their powers, never mind supercharging them, was too small. The line was discontinued. He, not possessing any biotics himself, had no use for it.
Weapons/Equipment:
His suit and a pistol.
His suit is a specially made commissioned piece by Rosenkov Materials. As he grew in fame and as he began transporting more and more valuable things, he realized he needed more protection. So the Volus Battle Armor was created. Funding it with a few people who owed him favors, the assembly lines began cranking them out. They had the breathing tubes beneath the armor, no exposed, and an extra covering over the breather tank. Extra ceramic plates on the arm, thickened chest plates, and holders for thermal clips on the arms and legs. Also featuring were magnetic clamps to place the guns. The ceramic plates have been created as an eezo/ceramic alloy, and a micro-generator runs through a positive current through the armor when it is impacted by, say, a mass-accelerated grain of metal. This would allow users of the armor to waddle out of the way of combat without being perforated.
[Armor Plating]
[Shock Absorbers]
Though they sold well initially, to merchants like him with questionable business, the sales slowly dropped, and with them the suits. Though there are many still in circulation, Rosenkov has since stopped production of the line. Those possessing them are recognized as being the kind of volus who goes looking for danger… or starting it.
His pistol is nowhere near as fancy. A simple Karpov X with hammerhead rounds and a kinetic coil and heat sink.
Profession: Merchant
Allegiance: His own.
Rank: Registered by the Citadel as ‘Military Grade Offensive/Defensive Hardware and Supplies Shipping Service”
Home Planet: Irune
History:
Born on Irune, Tu Cenk spent three years of his life there before moving to the Citadel. There he was educated by his father and his school in pan-galactic economy. Exchange rates, trade routes, how to play the stock market, investments, all the basics. He took to it like no other student. Ten years later, the family moved back to Irune as the father followed his job as a banker. There, Tu Cenk finished his education and joined a prestigious university. Double-majoring in finance, he was a decorated valedictorian and was offered the job of teaching there. Turning it down, he left to the Citadel.
Here he began his work, as a business man in many goods, all which were perfectly legal. Playing the stock market and being frugal in his spending, he soon amassed a comfortable sum of money. With it he bought a ship, brand new, human made Kowloon class. He began conducting his business from there, saying goodbye to the Citadel.
After a few years of honest business aboard the MSV Superabundance, he began a small… slightly legal trade operation on the side. At first it was simply mining in forbidden space for rare materials, but soon it was secretive moving of large mining equipment… and then after years of this it moved on to more than ‘mining’ equipment.
Trafficking guns, machinery, raw materials, he saw the necessity of playing politics. Master of the loopholes, he legalized many of his mining sites. Around this time he used his influence in the Rosenkov Company to begin construction of the Volus Battle Armor.
Over the continued years of politicking he gained notoriety among many just like him, like Solomon Hock.
He recently earned himself an article in Badass Weekly.
RP Sample:
Tu Cenk sat in his room on the couch, naked. The room was pressurized to a comfortable level and the ammonia being piped in smelled like home. He was sitting on a small couch, purple and gold silk. It had cost him a lot, but the considering the amount he brought in on a daily basis it was hardly worth mentioning. Hell, this wasn’t even that high end of a material. The humans had such low standards compared to the others… the asari probably hadn’t had this grade of material since before they left their planet. Well, they could be forgiven, considering how far behind they were… and yet they were already going to get on the council. He grunted at the thought and inhaled deeply, leaning his neck back, trying to drive the thought form his mind. Uppity little creatures, humans. But they were useful. They had the military might to take on the turians, level head for money, and ruthless. They weren’t too bad… unfortunately, they were perhaps too good. They had joined within an average human’s lifetime and already they were getting close to being elected to the council. While his kind were delegated to an embassy.
He looked over to his computer as it came on, orange filling the comfortable captain’s quarters. His messages blinked, in the lower left hand corner, of the orange light-screen. Leaning forward, he pressed a pudgy finger into the icon, the chip he had installed in his hand making it feel like a solid surface. The video feed appeared in the center and expanded, clearing to crystal quality, showing the hulking body of an elcor. Tu Cenk recognized him, but couldn’t recall a name. Well, people rarely used names with those they thought to be their inferiors. Tu Cenk nodded, looking bored, for the elcor to begin.
“Humbly: Tu Cenk, it is an honor to finally meet you.” The large creature bowed its head as it droned its sentence out. “With urgency:” Tu Cenk found that funny, “I have contacted you with an important request. I realize this is informal, however its importance to me and my business ventures…” Tu Cenk waved his hand idly, cutting the elcor off.
“Get to the point, elcor. I am a very busy man.” Once more the elcor nodded deeply, Tu Cenk simply looking on bored.
“Cowed: Very well. Matter-of-factly: I need you to smuggle three thousand units of assorted military weapons and vehicles.” The elcor’s beady eyes seemed to implore Tu Cenk, but the volus kept his face solemn, unemotional.
“You know my prices, elcor. I do not care about the amount, only that the customer is willing to pay. I suggest you send me the information and credits immediately, for the fastest results. Such an amount will be difficult to procure and move safely…” The elcor nodded.
“With exceeding gratitude: Many thanks, Tu Cenk. You have my deepest…” Tu Cenk leaned forward and closed the message. Elcor were tiring to listen to, even more so to hold conversations with.
Far away, near the back of the trading floor on Ilium, the elcor stood silently, making sure the message had ended. “With unveiled malice: Thank you, Tu Cenk. In more ways than you realize now.”
