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| Owner:
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Metal_Man88 |
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| Species: |
Human |
| Age: |
30 |
| Birthdate: |
04/1/1985 |
| Sex: |
Male |
| Fur/Hair Color: |
Blond |
| Eye Color: |
Green |
| Alignment: |
Chaotic Good |
Appearance: He's a green-eyed, tanned Downunda overlander man. He has an outrageous white mustache and a similarly colored panama hat. He wears a subdued green dress shirt and some canvas-colored pocket-filled jeans, and also generally has a pair of steel-toed boots on. Always carrying a handful of supplies and an unusual 7 foot long narrow granite spear, Jack is generally the type to stick out like a sore thumb.
His voice is a rather average mid-range one, although he has a slight accent. He's about 6'5" and yet only about middle-weight, despite his muscles. He has the strength to spin around the heavy stone staff and carry a pack full of equipment; but it makes sense, as his past in football gave him experience in lifting weight and hurling himself around. His nose is crooked, most likely from some sort of barroom brawl; and oftentimes the smell of gin is on his breath.
His body is stout, but his hair is usually a mess, its blond continuity showing through what was once a more straight cut hairstyle. He has long, curved fingers with multiple scuffs and scars, indicating a number of barroom fights in his past. | Personality: A man with a good sense of humor, Jack's always sort of the joker. He doesn't take many people seriously, and even when he does, it's hard to tell whether he means it or not. He has the penchant for getting drunk and having a rambunctious time, and has no real problem 'going with the flow.' When not having a good time, he's busy studying something he has always been on the track of--the legendary world-controlling powers of the 'Amda Chalice.' This object's very existence is a mystery, it being noted on the staff Jack has and on other objects he has studied, but having no definite location or appearance. He suspects it is just an ornate object worn by ancient royalty, but, ever to find adventure, he chases even the slightest rumors to try and figure it out.
He tends to get into small scuffles. Since he doesn't take anyone seriously, the more uptight people tend to attack him. Jack, not being a man to kill people for no good reason, usually settles for a bit of fisticuffs and maybe a good smack on the head with that heavy staff he lugs around. Although one part of it is pointed, he makes a big deal of not stabbing anyone with it, at least not unless they force his hand.
The one thing he can't stand is people hiding secrets. He considers them to always be lies people tell to themselves, or the truth being unjustly hidden. He doesn't see their purpose, since he, a foreigner, has no real reason to hide anything--all the people that cared about it are waaay down south, and even then, the attitude among his family was that secrets didn't really matter.
While he wants to do the right thing, he tends to be lost on the way there. He eventually comes around to it, but the trip can be harrowing. | Backstory: A strapping young man, Brando was always planning to be a football player down in Downunda. He'd lived a decent, normal life, getting into scuffles as a child and having friendly rivalries on the football team. It was all rather plain and simple, with most of the conflicts dealing solely with societal issues and some falling outs people usually have in their lives.
Of course, it didn't turn upside down from some big event happening, nor was he involved in any big scheme. None of the many tragic events that plagued the northland really effected him--nor did even that big cold snap that occurred a while ago. He took even that in stride, considering the people who complained about it "Just hadn't gotten used to th' snow yet."
But he did have a bit of a life-changing incident. Early on he'd been all about football, but as time went on, he wasn't shaping up well. While he was sufficiently large and strong, he was undisciplined, and too busy making a fool of himself drinking and going to parties to care about football practice.
Then there was the other reason: he'd become obsessed with some weird statues in a local museum. For whatever reason, the ancient statues, most likely of echidna origin, got his attention. He studied them with relish that he'd never given to anything else--even football. After this eventually got to the ears of the high school career counselor, they decided to put him where he belonged--archaeology.
So he went in and learned the various things about ancient ruins, and how to excavate them. For whatever reason, he was a man obsessed with these--perhaps because it was the only 'unusual' thing he'd encountered in his life, and while it bored most people, the idea of viewing all these ancient statues and writings appealed to him.
So he eventually got a dinky certificate in archaeology and went into the field. But once again, he was a drunken bloke, making a mess with his inability to go to bed at any sane hour and being drunk on the field. It all seemed ready to crash on his head until, in one of his drunken stupors, he randomly wandered into an area he was expressly forbidden to touch and yanked out a weird spear.
Lo and behold, the spear was a major find, that had been obscured by a pile of rock. While removing it had damaged it and the evidence that suggested how it got there, it was so unusual as to distract the archaeologists from that entirely. Unfortunately for Jack, they also took it from him, as studying it became their new focus.
Pardoning him for being a drunken waste of space, they patronized him instead, telling him he could wait around like a good boy while the seasoned archaeologists figured out what he'd found. Eventually they told him about it, and how the runes on that rocky stick suggested some sort of 'super chalice of power' to be found up north. Unfortunately all the chaos up there meant they'd probably never get the permission to go out there, let alone take the priceless staff with them to see if it opened anything of value.
Well, Jack was not one to take any caution. He saw the paint on the wall and knew he'd be toast sooner or later--he failed at any 'careful' analysis of the mud samples he got, and despite spending hours outside, roasting like a pig, he never seemed to find anything but bone fragments. He knew that he had to do something soon, or his one find would just be consigned to a museum and forgotten. So one night, while loaded with alcohol, he got a stunning plan.
He snuck into the research building at night, then brazenly stole the staff with some notes on it, and then drove off into the night on one of the jeeps. Before anyone could figure out what happened, he'd booked a flight to the northern continent. They went to go after him, until reports came in that a new, horrible threat was going on up there.
And so, they could only shrug in resignation and leave Jack to his fate, as Jack, his handful of dollars, a weird staff, and his crazy plans to take it to all the 'special temples and archaeological sites' of the 'mystical northern continent' began. There, he thought, he could find out if all those fantastic and weird things mentioned in the staff and ruins he'd seen were real... and also get a chance to possess the chalice of power, if it truly existed.
He also partially pitied the chaotic north, and hoped that, perhaps, he could help bring some peace to it, even if it meant punching a few people. | Abilities: His staff is perfectly mundane. It has no magical power. It is literally a very solid hunk of rock with a pointy end. Jack has no gun and no other weapons except his fists. While he is a decent bar-room brawler, against a true warrior, Jack often will have to resort to running away.
The only special ability to Jack's name is that he tends to be lucky. Bullets aren't as likely to hit lethal spots and he is healthy as a horse, so it's hard to keep him down for long without really beating the tar out of him. His staff is also seemingly indestructible, although not to the point of defying all physics--just that, unless you make a concerted effort to destroy it (or Jack makes a spectacularly stupid move with it), it's unlikely to be damaged beyond the ages of scuff marks that already adorn it. |
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