Proportionately trim with a naturally athletic build, Marick's muscles are lean and sleek as a hunting cat and shift under his skin with an animal grace. Annoyingly perfect jet-black hair falls in thin strands down to his shoulders, parting evenly at the center to frame a strong jawline, hollowed cheeks, and flawless skin. Not too pale, but hardly tanned, his handsome features speak strongly to his half-Hapan heritage. He keeps his full beard tight and neatly groomed. The dark creases under his sharp, too-blue eyes adds the weight of years to his otherwise youthful appearance.
Marick's voice carries a very faint lilt that gives it a prim, aristocratic edge.
On the underside of his right wrist, Marick displays the Oblivion Brigade Skull. A roman-numeral "XII" is etched onto his left wrist. His back is lined with pale silver scars left from repeated whippings as a child. He has a star shaped scar that lingers between his shoulder blades, a reminder of his first betrayal, and a pale red slash mark across his stomach as a reminder of the second. The mark of the Arconae is tattooed onto his left pectoral, just over the heart. It features the symbol of Clan Arcona surrounded by a circle of ancient, tribal characters.
Marick is always wearing a leather necklace that bares the tip of a white wolf-tail around his neck.
Marick Tyris' has spent the larger part of his life mastering the art of espionage and assassination. Beyond the cloaks and daggers, however, his true talent lies in his eerily preternatural attention to detail. Always alert to potential threats, Marick reflexively commits any room he enters to memory by noting every corner, shadow, and exit. He instinctively analyzes anyone that crosses his path, breaking down their posture, attire, armaments and any other quirks, tics or tells. This allows him to mechanically pin-point flaws in targets and can give him an edge in single or small-encounters with enemies. This talent becomes less effective when Marick's attention is stretched too thin over large groups or on say, a battlefield. While his uncanny Perception is useful for investigation, Marick lacks the heart for unraveling complex schemes or mysteries and instead focuses on being able to digest and then adapt quickly to his surroundings.
Knowledge is power, and power can do wonderful, terrible things to even the strongest of minds. While Marick Tyris' willpower is like a suit of armor, the weight of his experience and the knowledge it carries has begun to form hairline fissures in his mind of iron. These “cracks” manifest themselves into small quirks such as his obsessive-compulsive tendencies to keep both his personal space and affects neat and orderly. Paired with his hyper-attentive awareness to his surroundings, Marick has formed a habit of never sitting with his back to a door. He also tends to instinctively position himself away from windows while always keeping an eye on an exit. This makes it difficult to catch the head of the Inquisitorius off-guard, but many have begun to question where Marick sits on the line between precaution and paranoia. Others wonder how it may be affecting his judgement as a leader.
Marick has always walked the line between right and wrong, dark and light. Caught between apathy and empathy, he chooses the only logical path he sees between them: the one that accomplishes the most and hurts the least. A life of pain and betrayal, coupled by loss, has made him wiser to this cold truth. He sees the world now in a perpetual shade of gray and has learned that the only true things are the choices he makes and the consequences they bring. This cynical pragmatism allows him the clarity to often see through deception or trickery through observation alone. However, his sight also pierces trust and camaraderie, and, like Deadheart, he lacks any true ability to turn it off. Because of this, he keeps even his few loved ones at a distance, his heart walled behind doors of stone and his mind trapped in all its knowing.
Marick learned early on that emotions cloud judgment. Through a combination of ruthless training and experience, Marick leverages his unwavering Resolve to maintain an altered state of mind that strips away his personal feelings and replaces them with a detached, zen-like calm. While this clockwork focus allows him to handle high-stress situations better than others — and can give him an edge in making split-second decisions under pressure — Marick no longer knows how to turn it off or to relinquish his control. He finds it difficult to relax, leaving him perpetually numb to even the most basic of comforts beyond his lone hobby of enjoying his collection of teas. Though bound by this cold, dispassionate mask, signs of soul-deep weariness slip through the cracks as he struggles with his own broken humanity to maintain the few relationships he has left in the wake of all the things that he's done.
Marick views the Force as a tool, not a crutch. He has spent years honing his body into the perfect weapon: reflexes wired to give him a natural, freakish athleticism. Even out of combat, he moves like quicksilver, never taking two steps when only one is required. Instead of using the Force as a weapon against others, Marick has become adept at not just pushing his body past its normal limits with Amplification, but knowing precisely when to tap into it so as to never burn out or waste energy. Timing is everything. While Marick prefers his various blades or lightsaber, his time undercover inside the Collective made him more proficient with using whatever is around him as a weapon. While this training makes Marick deadly in close quarters — with or without the Force — it leaves him vulnerable against enemies that know to keep their distance from the Gray Fang.
While Marick is a lethally efficient weapon in close quarters combat, he knows that he is far from the best fighter. He will use his Subterfuge to lie smoothly and hide his intentions while waiting for the right, precise moments to strike. He will not hesitate to employ his expertise with Poisons and Toxins and is skilled at creating his own concoctions for a wide range of purposes. He holds no illusion of defeating superior saber duelist in a straight fight and instead prefers to rely on knowledge and cunning. This has lead people to start calling him "The Gray Fang” for his ability to discreetly — or openly — take down even the most prolific adversaries, often without having to draw his lightsaber. This reputation acts as a double-edged sword, as even those who consider him an ally can no longer guess which mask the master Assassin is wearing.
Master (+5) | |
Adept (+4) | |
Proficient (+3) | |
Trained (+2) | |
Learned (+1) | |
Mediocre (+0) |
Master (+5) | |
Adept (+4) | |
Disciple (+3) | |
Studied (+2) | |
Initiate (+1) |
Languages |
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Lore |
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Primary Martial Art | Sliding Hands |
Secondary Martial Art | None |
Primary Lightsaber Form | Sokan |
Secondary Lightsaber Form | None |