(RP) - Khatar rarely shows his face, after so many years of wandering the galaxy he finds it to be a disgrace to those deceased to allow his figure to live on visually, whilst theirs slowly decays into the endless flow of time. His only note worthy feature his his stunning baby-blue eyes and the wrinkles upon his face. His mood swings and his constant personality turns leave him a anomaly by the common folk, leading them to border themselves away from this odd, yet truly gentle and warmed heart being, no matter what hallucinations fog his mind.
(OOC) - Khatar's been a RP character of mine since 1979, when I was only eight years old and discovering SW for the first time with a few friends, and he's been the only persona I've ever been attached to and he's basically the foundation of my entire life. I'll admit, it's odd growing up and seeing the intense amount of changes he went through and the many re-writes to fit lore, but he never really hit the peak of synchronization with me up until I joined DAJ all those years ago, and when I left because of my own frustrations at the turns it had been taking and the way it use to twist your arm behind your back. So yeah, that's all I've really got to say.
(RP)Name - Khatar, Khatar Pearl for formal callings.
(RP)Gender - Male
(RP) Age - ??? (Presumed to be 67, but may be older.)
(RP)Race - Human (Presumed)
(RP)Place of Birth - Ziost (Presumed)
(RP)Why do you want to become a Dark Angels Jedi? - It's the call of the only place Khatar may call home. Every night his mind traces back to a group that he had long forgotten. When his mind slept, his body moved itself towards his previously deceased calling.
(RL)Age - 42
(RL)Do you have friends/brothers/sisters in DAJ? - None that are here now.
(RL)Have you read the DAJ Constitution and agreed to follow DAJ rules? - Yes I have.
(RP)Have you ever been a member of the Dark angels jedi before? and if so who/what rank were you? I was a membe way back when. During the times when it was still a FFA and RP server, the first few weeks to be exact. I was made a council member relatively quick do to the growing amount of members (Slow, but growing) and I was told to plan "events" for when the time arose and the sparring was getting repetitive; though, shortly after taking upon that task I became DANGERIOUSLY inactive, and I'd just been engaged to my wife and we'd begun planning the wedding. Low-and-behold when I returned, there was arguments from one side to another about FFA being kept and more RP being shown. I could handle that, up until the first first splitting of the clan, then I snapped and left. I returned awhile later with almost all of those who I knew gone and some new group of people there... all waiting for my special touch of mayhem. My sister had also joined up with the clan, and then "The Blue Chicken" incident happened, and the rest is history.
(RP)Other Names/Characters - Only Khatar's different names of Dar'yaim Kyr'am te Ge'tal and Deckard Pearl.
(RP)Previous Clans - DAJ
(RP)Short Biography - The earliest of memories that lay within Khatar's mind, is that of the day he was born. It was upon the planet of Ziost, within a make-shift tent and near by a uninhabited ruin. The details of his birth are all but unknown to him- but as well as he could presume, he was born as any other child would've been born. His first visually images was that of a blinding white, upon the surface and falling from the high above. He'd only be seeing this image for a moment longer, and then it'd all go black.
Khatar's next memory was that of what he could only assume to be a large metal box, drifting within the void of space, with a methodical *Hum* sound and the whimpering and boasting of others. Khatar had never seen nor heard of something called a "Ship" or "Vessel" before; he'd been sheltered from the outer world, upon the freezing graveyard that he called 'Home'. Before Khatar shut the image out, he'd heard a large *clank* sound, and the descendance outside the window. What came into his eyes now was a blinding ray, loud pitched wailings and chants, the sound of flying vehicles swooping by, and the scream of doors opening, to a building reminding him so much of the ruins he'd seen before, yet could not place from where. And then, his vision disappeared again.
Not much had happened to him, he walked within the temple and he'd been outfitted with what he could assume was the traditional garments of a religious monk. Khatar had no idea this was his new home, the desolated ice-cap he'd known before only served to him now as trial ground for lone survival- and that's when his 'gift' had broken free. As Khatar grew older and older, he'd have dreams of places he'd never known, of people he'd never meet- He'd never see himself but others wander the mental fictions of his mind. During this time, he'd been called by a master 'Kavar' who'd he'd spoken to only briefly- "Clairvoyance," that is all he could remember now of that conversation. Clairvoyance - The supposed faculty of perceiving things or events in the future or beyond normal sensory contact, a gift or a curse, it remained with Khatar and haunted him till the marrow in his bones. He could not escape it and he began to wonder if he ever wanted to. The gift of foresight, the power to see what *will* be, and what can be? It was appealing, but there is always the questions in his mind, a saying he'd known, but never knew from where: "Clairvoyance over Immortality. To see what will be and how it will be, over an eternity of voyage and unyielding youth. To see how it will all end in a dream, over seeing how it will all end for yourself." Khatar faded in and out, his body trained itself in the arts of a "Jedi," wielding a dual-bladed weapon, conjuring up a bright energy of Cyan, able to what he could assume to be the thickest of material, yet his mind would move out of his body into times untapped, unaltered, virgin to the common times. Khatar soon began having nightmares, his gift was showing him what he would never want to see- and so, he faded again.
From padawan, to knight, to master and even a spot upon the council, Khatar's mind twisted itself, and began seeing memories of that which was not his own- "Tattooine, Alzoc 3, Mandalore- I'd never been to any of these places in my current life- wait, 'current life'?" Khatar had begun questioning himself, his mind played tricks on him now. "Current life," that was all it took to make him question. He knew he was him, and forever was him but still, he wondered. He'd began to question if he had clairvoyance, or if it was only memories of something long before him. He'd never dreamed himself or seen a future with himself in it, only visions of those he'd never met. The temple was in dis-array at this point, the temples Jedi had began openly arguing of the direction the temple was going, the miss-haps and the long over do trial periods. Padawan could not learn if there where not enough knights, and knights could not have council if their where not enough masters as it was to consult. Khatar himself had been locked within his quarters, properly preparing himself and finishing other reports he'd needed to grant to the other councillors, but his mind had betrayed him-- until...
He'd never know the name of the planet he'd been assigned to, he'd only been told small pieces of the task. This planet housed a temple, much like that he now called home; however, defections and other blasphemy had gone unattended for so long, and he was instructed by the current head councilor to alleviate the problems. What was that beings name? He'd gone with one other, but he could not recall his name. Even now, he mourns the loss in his mind, of the nameless one who stood by him until the bitter end, and the same for the planet. "Clairvoyance over Immortality," he heard within his mind. Khatar's heart went numb. He could no longer feel it beat the life within him, he could no longer feel himself breathe. He choked, but he made no sound, no gag. "You're Khatar, you're Khatar." That was all his thoughts would tell him. Had he feelings for someone once? It was an odd question to ask at this momment, but... Khatar could not remember.
"Do not forget, the ritual is all we need. I will confront them with their blasphemy, and if they deny the chargers and refuse my acceptance into their temple for investigation, then you commence the right."
This memory is fogged, all Khatar remembered what his mind told him. "Clairvoyance over Immortality. What do you choose, little 'Pearl'?" Khatar only remembered laughing maniacally to himself as he saw it... He saw himself, standing upon a ruined world as a dead atmosphere around him closed in. He saw a mask topple to his feet and crumble to the wind. He saw a glimmering white planet, where he'd walk a path of denial.
"I am Khatar!" he laughed. The runes upon the floor glimmered away, and all that remained was him. He'd not remembered how, but he contacted the council, he'd informed them of the act, and he'd told them he'd not be returning. He said he'd lost himself, but found himself again. He said he'd remember who he was, and then he'd return. He'd argued with himself day and night, he'd have flashes of others and their lives. He felt their pain and their joy. He'd remember the good times and the bad, and he'd forget what he was as much as *who* he was. This was no clairvoyance, it was clear to him now: these where memories, memories of someone before, of someone after. Had he always been Khatar? Or was he another being, who would be cast into the dust when his time finally came? No. Khatar argued with himself, but he knew who he was, but he also forgot. Was he the child, born upon Ziost not so long ago? Or was he the robed hermit within the forests, who choose immortality over his clairvoyance? Was he the farmer, who wished to see his lucky sign to feed his family... family. Had he a family? Was he the orphan who wandered the streets and stole to survive? Was he the teacher, who taught the greatest minds in the galaxy, yet never asked for praise? Did he have a home?
Yes. He had a home. It was a church, and place of worship and discipline. None where above another, and none shared the same blood to an exact drop. It was a place where all the children took time to sit and listen, to laugh and practice. Khatar's call, was the call of home. It was all he had, and it was all he'd ever need. The only thing that kept him Khatar Pearl for so long, was his call to his one, and only "Home."
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(OOC) Hey, I thought I'd add this in to clear up anything. This is a simplified 'Short' story of my Khatar character, who I had since I was a wee-lad in 1979. I started from the time of his re-creation after more of the SW lore came out, and I went on to where I was in DAJ and filled in the parts from when I was inactive until the end of when I originally departed. Anyways, it's a welcome change to be back, and thank you Nuhallis for chit-chatting me into it so that I can finally be back to my own internet-home. And just to make sure I never forget my name from going completely loony,
- Stephen Spangler.
There, now I know it'll be safe somewhere aside from a framed image in my kitchen!
Home 
We've got a Revan and a Vrook- so it's good to have identical IC names too! 