Post by Admiral Ackbar on May 27, 2010 5:10:16 GMT
Name: Admiral Ackbar
Race: Mon Calamari
Age: 45
Faction: New Republic/the People's Front of Mon Calamari (not to be confused with the rival 'Mon Calamarian People's Front', the 'Mon Calamarian Popular People's Front', the 'Campaign for a Free Mon Calamari', or the 'Popular Front of Mon Calamari')
Occupation: Supreme Commander of the New Republic Defense Force (retired)/B-wing designer/assistant nighttime manager at tropical fish store
Weapons: Blaster pistol, uncanny ability to detect traps
Weapon Proficiencys: Blasters, flipper-to-hand combat
Equipment: Floating chair
Ship(s): Mon Calamari capital ship (available upon request)
History:
Ackbar, along with 2365 brothers and sisters, hatched from an egg in a small pond on the planet of Mon Calamari. As is the way with the Mon Cal, he never knew his parents. He and his siblings were therefore forced to be self-sufficient from a young age.
One day, while out searching for sustenance, Ackbar and his siblings stumbled upon a strange wooden enclosure with black mesh. Sensing danger, Ackbar instinctively yelled out, "It's a TRAP!", but it was too late -- his family had been captured, only to be shipped to alien planets as food, served with a buttery dipping sauce and a side of seasonal vegetables.
Ackbar emerged from that fateful day a wiser and more weary (some would say paranoid) amphibian. Determined to avoid the same fate as his siblings, Ackbar decided to take control of his own destiny and applied to college. Four years later he graduated, having majored in Space Vessel Engineering, with a minor in Trap Detection.
With the rise of the Galactic Empire, Ackbar's strong feelings about Mon Calamarian freedom and safety grew, and so he enlisted in the People's Front of Mon Calamari, eventually ascending to the rank of Admiral. He later joined the Rebel Alliance, and was given command of the Mon Cal capital ship 'Home One'. During this time he also designed the infamous B-wing starfighter with its rotating cockpit which, although cool, he later learned is utterly useless in outer space since there is no relative "up" or "down".
Upon the defeat of the Empire, Ackbar longed for a quieter, simpler life -- a life devoid of traps. He therefore retired from the Alliance and secured a job at a local tropical fish store, where he has currently ascended to the rank of assistant nighttime manager.
RP Example:
BBBBBRRRIIIIINNNNGGGGG! The alarm clock rang in its unsympathetically shrill tone as Ackbar's flipper landed on the off button. Slowly he slid from the bed, his feet searching blindly along the cold floor before coming to rest in his warm, soft slippers. Hauling himself up, he lurched to the washroom and plunked himself down on the toilet. Swaying side to side, still half asleep, he bemoaned having to work yet another night shift.
"It'll all be worth it," he reminded himself, "when I finally get my promotion to daytime assistant manager." Until then, however, he would have to endure the dreaded night shift.
Suddenly, Ackbar's bowels seized. Wincing, he felt the need to pass a stool -- an occurrence uncharacteristic for him at this time of day. Standing up, Ackbar spun around. His eyes widening, he pointed a flipper towards the bowl as he exclaimed in disbelief, "It's a CRAP!"
Race: Mon Calamari
Age: 45
Faction: New Republic/the People's Front of Mon Calamari (not to be confused with the rival 'Mon Calamarian People's Front', the 'Mon Calamarian Popular People's Front', the 'Campaign for a Free Mon Calamari', or the 'Popular Front of Mon Calamari')
Occupation: Supreme Commander of the New Republic Defense Force (retired)/B-wing designer/assistant nighttime manager at tropical fish store
Weapons: Blaster pistol, uncanny ability to detect traps
Weapon Proficiencys: Blasters, flipper-to-hand combat
Equipment: Floating chair
Ship(s): Mon Calamari capital ship (available upon request)
History:
Ackbar, along with 2365 brothers and sisters, hatched from an egg in a small pond on the planet of Mon Calamari. As is the way with the Mon Cal, he never knew his parents. He and his siblings were therefore forced to be self-sufficient from a young age.
One day, while out searching for sustenance, Ackbar and his siblings stumbled upon a strange wooden enclosure with black mesh. Sensing danger, Ackbar instinctively yelled out, "It's a TRAP!", but it was too late -- his family had been captured, only to be shipped to alien planets as food, served with a buttery dipping sauce and a side of seasonal vegetables.
Ackbar emerged from that fateful day a wiser and more weary (some would say paranoid) amphibian. Determined to avoid the same fate as his siblings, Ackbar decided to take control of his own destiny and applied to college. Four years later he graduated, having majored in Space Vessel Engineering, with a minor in Trap Detection.
With the rise of the Galactic Empire, Ackbar's strong feelings about Mon Calamarian freedom and safety grew, and so he enlisted in the People's Front of Mon Calamari, eventually ascending to the rank of Admiral. He later joined the Rebel Alliance, and was given command of the Mon Cal capital ship 'Home One'. During this time he also designed the infamous B-wing starfighter with its rotating cockpit which, although cool, he later learned is utterly useless in outer space since there is no relative "up" or "down".
Upon the defeat of the Empire, Ackbar longed for a quieter, simpler life -- a life devoid of traps. He therefore retired from the Alliance and secured a job at a local tropical fish store, where he has currently ascended to the rank of assistant nighttime manager.
RP Example:
BBBBBRRRIIIIINNNNGGGGG! The alarm clock rang in its unsympathetically shrill tone as Ackbar's flipper landed on the off button. Slowly he slid from the bed, his feet searching blindly along the cold floor before coming to rest in his warm, soft slippers. Hauling himself up, he lurched to the washroom and plunked himself down on the toilet. Swaying side to side, still half asleep, he bemoaned having to work yet another night shift.
"It'll all be worth it," he reminded himself, "when I finally get my promotion to daytime assistant manager." Until then, however, he would have to endure the dreaded night shift.
Suddenly, Ackbar's bowels seized. Wincing, he felt the need to pass a stool -- an occurrence uncharacteristic for him at this time of day. Standing up, Ackbar spun around. His eyes widening, he pointed a flipper towards the bowl as he exclaimed in disbelief, "It's a CRAP!"