Okay. Been a while since I made a request here, and never had one picked up, so here's hoping this one intrigues people a bit.
I've got a new character that I'd like an image for. His name is Feldar T'kappi, and he's a Chadra-Fan Jedi. He's got typical brown fur and black eyes, typical height (0.96m or 3'2", to be exact-ish), and so on. However, during a battle in which the Jedi Temple was mostly destroyed, debris tore his right arm from his shoulder. He will (but has not yet) replace the arm with a droid arm, in the approximate shape of the one seen here, but with more gears and servos, such as the one seen here. Ideally, the droid arm would replicate Feldar's own anatomy (same number of fingers, for example).
As far as his personality goes, he fits most readily into the Jedi Consular class. He listens first, then speaks, and only fights as a last resort. He seeks to make the best of all things, no matter how dire things get.
I'd prefer a pose that is not combative, given his personality, but if you want to include his lightsaber, here are a few details: He built the blade himself, and his species' natural technological abilities played a part in making it as complex as it is. The silver-blue blade is almost icy in color, due to the particularly rare type of sapphire Feldar used in its construction. The lightsaber has a standard hilt and, under normal circumstances, is the length of a short lightsaber. Its triple-phase system, however, can shorten it to the length of a Shoto or lengthen it to a standard single-bladed lightsaber with ease (the colors are the same at these lengths). The contours on the hilt fit Feldar's small hands perfectly. He carries the weapon around his waist, where it was when he lost his arm.
Setting is not particularly important to me, but if you want to do some scenery, jungle or the ruins of a temple in the jungle are appropriate. Here are some ideas for poses: he could be fiddling with his lightsaber, comforting someone who is wounded, speaking with another Jedi, or just standing there.
Okay, to sum up: Chadra-Fan, Jedi, right arm is a droid arm (see links above for inspiration), preferably not a combat pose, jungle or temple ruins if you want to work with scenery (and if you don't, that's fine, too).
If you want more details, just post here and I'll get back to you.
Here's a piece of the story, after the recovery effort began. This is obviously before he replaces his arm with the droid arm (although if someone wanted to create this scene instead, I'd be perfectly happy with that - I'd love to see this visualized). Hope this shows a little bit of the character.
* * * * *
Feldar did not want to lie around and wait to get better. He wanted to help. Slowly, he stood from his cot and began to walk around the triage area. More people were arriving - medical personnel and otherwise - to help with the relief effort. Feldar appreciated it, but he still did not want to lounge around while others were suffering. He wanted to help - he needed to help.
He found a few cots grouped together with no medical personnel nearby. Examining the wounds, Feldar realized that these were the mortally wounded. In proper triage fashion, the doctors and healers had moved on to those who could be saved. But Feldar was neither doctor nor healer; he was a Jedi, and he would not leave these people to die alone. He went to the side of one of them, a human female, about nineteen years of age. Her hair was matted against her skull with her blood, and a piece of rebar had punctured the left side of her chest, between ribs under her breast. Her lungs were filling with blood, and she would soon choke to death. In these facilities, there was nothing to be done for her, medically.
Feldar stood beside her cot, stroking her hair. It was blonde, but what exact shade, Feldar couldn't make out; her blood had splattered through all of it, so it ranged from yellow-gold, to pale strawberries, to the deep crimson that so many species associated with blood. One of her eyes was swollen shut from the head trauma that had caused all that bleeding; Feldar suspected that crumbling rocks had fallen upon her. Her other eye was a crystal-clear blue, and even though Feldar suspected that the doctors had pumped her full of painkillers, he could see the agony in her eye, and he could feel it pouring off her in the Force. He placed his one hand on her chest, over her heart. He smiled, tugging at the Force, asking it to help him ease her pain. She looked at him, the wildness and anguish at last fading from her gaze. For the briefest of moments, she smiled as peace embraced her, and then she coughed, hard. Blood sprayed from her mouth as the last of her breath was expelled in the vain effort to clear her lungs. At last, the light left her eye and she stopped convulsing.
Feldar moved on to the next cot, and the next, calling to the Force for peace and acceptance, both on his own part, and on the part of the dying. He squeaked sorrowfully with each one, Jedi or not, who could not be saved. There were so many, he thought. So much pain and grief. The only thing he knew to do was to bring peace to them. The thought of vengeance flitted through his mind, but he dismissed it; his task now was to comfort the dying and the bereaved. War would come in its own time. Wallowing in dark thoughts of revenge helped no one.
He came to the side of a grown man, a Mirialan, perhaps in his thirties. His pale-green skin and blue, geometric tattoos gave him away. He had fiery orange eyes, but they had lost their luster as he lay there, moaning weakly. Feldar glanced over him and saw some bruises, but did not know why he was among the dying. "How do you feel?" he asked the man.
The Mirialan smirked a little before grimacing again. "As well as anyone with half of his internal organs ruptured," he managed to say, sputtering a little blood. Feldar placed his hand on the man's stomach, and the Force confirmed the diagnosis. Some kind of extreme blunt trauma had caused severe damage to his organs; any attempt at surgery would add suffering and merely prolong the inevitable at this stage. There had already been too much internal bleeding. The Mirialan continued, "At least they gave me some meds to block out the pain."
"Yeah," Feldar squeaked, "Me, too." Now that the shock was passing, his Basic was working itself out. He still had a squeaky, nasally accent, one he was not sure he would ever be rid of, but at least he could communicate with those who did not know his language. He leaned his wounded side in so that the Mirialan could see it.
The other looked at it and nodded. "Did you get that fighting one of those Sith?" he asked.
Pretending not to hear the question, Feldar said, "I am Feldar T'kappi. What's your name?"
The Mirialan paused before answering, possibly trying to determine if Feldar really hadn't heard him, and whether or not to repeat the question. At last, he apparently decided to let it go, and Feldar was relieved. "Ayol Thanat," he replied, "Merchant by trade."
Feldar nodded slowly. "Is that why you were at the Temple? Trading?"
Thanat shook his head, the effort taking a lot of energy. "No, I... trade along the Rimma. But... my daughter... well, someone said the Jedi were here, on Onderon. They had a recruitment push, out that way, a few years ago... said she was sensitive. But she was too young! Only four at the time. So we waited a bit, worked up the money to bring her here." Thanat looked at the crumbling remains of the Jedi Temple. "We had barely arrived when the attack came."
Feldar stood straighter, about to leave. "I'll find her for you," he said.
"No!" Thanat stopped him, grabbing Feldar's wrist. "They never brought her out. I watched... they never brought her out. She and my wife... they were... in the library. I was waiting for them up here, I kept... rushing them. Complaining about our schedule. I think Reina was dragging her feet just because of that. We brought all of her things, to let her stay, but... they said most of the masters had left, so I didn't see any point in staying, but she wanted to... to look around, so she... and I was..." Thanat trailed off, still looking toward the ruins. Feldar placed his hand on the man's shoulder. At last, Thanat said, "I should have been there. I should have protected her. But no one protected her. No one was there when they died."
Tears sprang unbidden to Feldar's eyes. He mourned for this man; he wanted so badly to help him, to rescue his daughter, but... there was nothing he could do. He had already failed her once. "I am sorry," he said softly, "I am sorry for your loss."
Thanat chuckled at that. "My loss? I'm about to take the final jump, kid. I'm okay with that. But my daughter had her whole life. She didn't deserve this." A few moments of silence passed between them as Thanat lay his head back down, staring at the sky above. Suddenly, the Mirialan half-sat up, propping himself up on his elbows. "What are you doing here, kid? Haven't you got something better to do? You'll live. The docs probably want you to rest, with that arm that way, or something."
Feldar shook his head. "I am here to help."
Thanat glared at the Chadra-Fan Jedi for several long seconds before plopping back down on his cot. "Why would you want to help me?" he asked softly.
"I must help," he said. "When they attacked... I was... scared. I didn't fight. I ran. I hid." That brought Thanat's gaze back to him. The Mirialan was glowering at him icily. Feldar continued, "I am supposed to be a Jedi, but... I was weak. I failed my friends, my fellow students, my masters... I failed you and your daughter and your wife. All this suffering... I should have tried. I should have tried to stop them. They were evil, they were... Sith. Why didn't I try to stop them? Why did I fail? Why did I fail again?" Feldar lowered his face and wept. He knew that he had been holding this back, putting on a brave face. But Thanat's words had pierced him with guilt. Thanat could not have protected his daughter - but a Jedi could have. Instead, he was cowering in a supply closet, hiding from the battle. He was a coward. He was weak. And people had died because of it.
Thanat was fuming, at first. Feldar could hear it. But eventually, the Mirialan's breath calmed, then faded. After several long minutes, while Feldar mourned for his family by his side, Thanat lay there, his eyes cutting the rodent up with imaginary lasers. But at some point, while Feldar stared at the ground, Thanat's expression softened. At last, Feldar felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. "How long have you been a Jedi, Feldar T'kappi?" Thanat asked softly.
Feldar did not look up. "Few years," he mumbled.
"And you said these were Sith?" Feldar nodded. "Then what you did... you would only have died yourself. Surely, it is better to survive, to train, to grow - to defeat the enemy on equal terms."
Feldar shrugged. "But your family might have escaped if I had fought..."
Thanat interrupted him, "You don't know that. All we do know is that you're here, now. You're alive. You have a chance to make things better, not just for the people dying in this field, but... everywhere." After a long pause, while Feldar got control of himself again, Thanat finally said, "I forgive you, Jedi T'kappi. My daughter would want me to. And it's the right thing to do. Do not blame yourself for these lives. You are only responsible for what you do now. Make the best of this, Jedi T'kappi."
Feldar struggled to blink back the tears that still threatened to flow. As Thanat took his hand away, Feldar began to smile, his little snout twisting into a sheepish grin. His ears even perked up as he raised his head, saying, "Do you really think--"
He stopped himself when he realized that Ayol Thanat could no longer hear him. The Mirialan man lay dead, a peaceful little smile on his face as his sightless eyes gazed forever at the little rodent that had led him to that place of acceptance in his last moments. Feldar reached up and, as he had done for every other person who had died in that field, he closed the other's eyes. Ayol Thanat was gone. But his encouraging words, probably more help to Feldar than the young Jedi had given to anyone else that day, would stay with him.
Make the best of this, Jedi T'kappi.
Done!
Wow, awesome job, Hisham! Thanks so much!
You're welcome. Glad you like it.