Physical Appearance
Homeworld: Corellia
Age: 19
Species: Human
Native Language: Galactic
Gender: Male
Skin Color: Pale
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 150 lbs.
Hair Color: Black
Facial Hair: Clean-shaven, always.
Eye Color: Blue
Scars: No
Tattoos: No
Physical Description
Tik is... Well, he isn't the most muscular guy around. In fact, most might descibe him as 'slim,' or 'beanpole,' if they had it in their vocabulary. He has good posture, shoulders rolled back and spine straight as an I-beam, but it doesn't do much for the way nearly everything hangs loose on him. He's tall, with gaunt cheeks and a stern gaze leering over gaunt cheekbones. He keeps his clothing clean and pressed, preferring too much starch over not enough.
Personality
Tik is an interesting fellow. He likes to think of himself as a man. A manly man, with chest puffed out and shoulders pulled back in a show of rugged masculinity. Only, he's not. And he knows it. Over the years it's become a bit of a paranoia, wondering if others are thinking about him. And what they think of him. It's a nasty habit, wondering what people think of him, and he doesn't have many friends to show for it. A loner he usually is, but he is professional and tries to keep orderly while doing what needs to be done.
Despite his grandiose and often paradoxical view of himself, he is an academic at heart. Tactics appeal more than individual deeds, and military strategies are far more appealing to him than a gaudy heroic tale. He attempts to hide it when he's around others, but he relishes in the intellectual.
Backstory
Tik was born third in a family of five boys. He was raised by his father amongst his kin in rural Corellia. It was quickly apparent that he was going to be the runt of the litter, and as he grew up his family let him have no end of it. Even his younger brothers would tease him mercilessly, their eight-year old frames more stocky than Tik's thin frame. Before he could truly build it up on the farm like his older brothers though, his father sold the farm and used the money to move the family to the metropolis that was urban Corellia.
Once there, he flourished in school and found himself attracted to intellectual pursuits. He made good grades and participated in extracurricular activities that reflected bigger brains than brawn. His father didn't approve though, much more doting on his older brothers' accomplishments in sports and very critical of his own works. His older brother enlisted into the Stormtrooper Corps. the day he was of age, and from then on true hell had begun for Tik.
"Did you hear? Froly was promoted last week!" He'd say while serving dinner. "Taught some rebels a lesson so good, they don't think they'll have to teach it again! Har!"
"Oh, that's nice," His father would say while peering over the medal Tik had gotten for participation in an academic decathlon. "Froly got one twice the size for blowing up a patchwork turret gun on a turncoat Fringe world! Ha, could you have imagined how big it would've been if it was a real turret gun? Har har!"
Eventually, it was too much. In an environment with no support for his love, he decided to do exactly what his father suggested he do time and time again: he joined the military. It was an icy silence that enveloped the earth-toned house for the months between enlistment and training, and when it was time to go he didn't even leave a note, vowing to be the man his father wanted and shoving it in his face when he did so.
[This message has been edited by
Rikky
(edited December 19, 2012
4:38:12 AM)]
