Jack

[jack]

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #000000; width: 350px; border-left: 1px solid white; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] [STYLE=text-align: right; color: #cc3333; font-family: georgia; font-size: 27px; font-style: italic; margin-bottom: -22px; padding-right: 10px;]Jeffory Levi Jackson[/style] [STYLE=width: 325px; background-color: #ffffff; padding: 5px; text-align: left; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px;]nickname Jack age 28 gender male sexuality Yes position Average Citizen, Common Thief powers Absolute power over his own thoughts, usually species human play by Most people call me Mutt, V. 1.02 [/style] [STYLE=text-align: right; color: #cc3333; font-family: georgia; font-size: 27px; font-style: italic; margin-bottom: -22px; padding-right: 10px;]personal[/style] [STYLE=width: 325px; background-color: #ffffff; padding: 5px; text-align: left; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px;]personality Haling from the slums, the greatest theif around. Or so he'll tell you. Quick to say things, quick to point out the obvious, and quick to run away from danger, his sharp wit is his only defense against his own incompetence. Humor is his best feature if you don't count his constant sate of “everything is doomed,” and very few people would call the stories he tells anything less than “umm... that was... interesting.” At the very least, he does try to help people (though he's not exactly Robin Hood, he would rescue a child from a burning building.) He chose what is perhaps not the most noble of professions, but he doesn't want to see the world burn. Just play the great chess game with the masses, to outsmart them at their own game, and make a few dollars. Or, more than a few. appearance In a word: Almost. He's almost good looking, but not qutie. He's almost tall, but not quite. His hair is almost black and his teeth are almost white. His eyes are almost blue, and almost gray, and he has enough growth on his chin to almost have a beard. His clothes are almost pristine, his skin is almost tan, and the shoes he wears are almost good quality. Which is to say that he's just another commoner. Dark haired, average height and almost malnourished, he wears simple dark clothing and soft souled shoes, often carrying a messenger's bag around. The bag is made of simple canvas, and contains all the normal things one would want on a lazy afternoon. Rope, change of clothes, makeup and various sharp implements. The only thing an especially observant person might notice is that Jack moves fluidly, years of thieving and moving quietly have left their permanent mark on his gait. history Born to a poor family in the lower city, young jack was brought up mostly on core values including “do what it takes to survive” and “as long as it doesn't kill someone, it's ok.” Granted, those perhaps aren't the best values to grow up with, so it's no surprise that his past is riddled with black marks. While attempting to liberate the coin off an officer of the law, he spent a few months in prison (before he was able to sneak out) and while out for a friendly hike through the home of a local businessman he was near killed by a large doberman. Though years of training, and a few tips picked up behind bars, left him with fairly nimble fingers, and by the time he was an adult he was living fairly comfortably on the profit of others. He had become somewhat notorious in the criminal underground, and was sought out by a young aspiring pickpocket who hoped to receive some lessons. Two years later Jack found himself penniless and once again on the wrong side of a cell door. This aspiring pickpocket, it would seem, found greater riches in stealing from thieves than the common folk, and had turned Jack in (after, of course, removing all the evidence from his house.) Renewed with a new sense of entitlement and after escaping yet again (He began to suspect that the guards didn't really want him there any more than he wanted to be there) he hatched a long, complicated plan, hoping to retrieve his life savings from his friend. The pickpocket, however, had found himself on the wrong end of a sharp blade. There are few times that Jack has been genuinely worried, and this was one of them. Even though the pickpocket wasn't exactly a good friend, Jack had taught him a lot and felt a special kinship to the lad, and felt a pang of sorrow at hearing the news of his demise. More-so, he felt a pang of panic that there may be someone looking to kill him as well. He left the lower city, then, and began a more nomadic life, being even more careful than before. He only stole enough money to make it by day to day, and rather than eat at lavish resteraunts he would only take a few meals here and there. In his wondering, he began to develop a kinship with people, and while he didn't exactly develop a heart of gold, he did begin running small, somewhat illegal, jobs when he could in order to help people here or there. He once again developed a name for himself, as a thief of the people. He would take back your wedding band from the pawn shop, or get your famed golden statue back from your swindling ex. Sure, he might take the rest of the jewelry too, but most people were happy to look the other way as long as it benighted them. And as far as Jack was concerned, life had never been better. [/style] [STYLE=text-align: right; color: #cc3333; font-family: georgia; font-size: 27px; font-style: italic; margin-bottom: -22px; padding-right: 10px;]roleplayer[/style] [STYLE=width: 325px; background-color: #ffffff; padding: 5px; text-align: left; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px;]alias Mutt. other characters None as of yet, probably as of forever unless this one dies (Which is a thing that happens to my characters) [/style]

created by cerbiatto at btn

[Andee]