JETT HUNTER

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HUMAN • MALE • 37 • GUARDIAN • STRAIGHT • avaricePseudonym

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we've got something, here the future is clear we exist without fear

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i think we're best described as a pyrocumulus i know there's a fire deep inside of us

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PHYSIQUE

[/style][style=width: 425px; padding: 15px; color: #816f74; font-family: helvetica; font-size:9px; text-align: justify; overflow: auto;]★ APPEARANCE: You stand at a whopping 6'1", and last you checked your weight was 213lbs. It may be disguised by slimming clothes, but you're as fit as a professional fighter in that your arms and legs are tone as hell and you've got a six pack that you can grate cheese on. Your eyes, usually set to "shifty", are light green bordering on yellow. Sometimes people think you have a liver disease or something, but you're fairly sure that you don't. Fairly sure.

Your hair is naturally blonde, but you decided when you were seventeen that green hair was much more awesome, and have since kept it permanently dyed such. Sure, you're almost forty, but you still look like a professional mother fucker. Not motherfucker. Mother fucker.

★ COMMON WEAR: When you're a high-end scientist slash secret mob boss, you need to have a look that's both practical AND stylish. A tailor-made suit with a few modifications (namely about six extra inside pockets and a tracking device built into a long-tailed jacket) was the first thing you bought when you pulled off your first heist. You've made some cosmetic alterations since then, and you're fairly sure that you look like the most badass to ever bad an ass. You also have this fedora that just...well, it's a normal fedora, but by God it makes an ensemble. Finish it off with a pair of steel-toes boots, and the world will practically be begging for you to take it.

Of course, you still like to pull of the scientist look now and then, which basically consists of exchanging your suit coat for a lab coat. Whoopee.

★ OTHER FEATURES: You have three tattoos: the first is of a flaming tiger, and it's spread across your upper back. That one came along with the change in hairstyle. Ah, to be seventeen again. The other is a heart under a banner on your right arm. The banner reads "Emily". The third is on your ankle, and is simply "Renn" in cursive. He man not be your real son/nephew/whatever, but you still care about the kid.[/style][style=width: 455px; margin-top:13px; border-bottom:2px solid #101010;][/style][style=background-color: #242424; opacity: 0.8; color: #C26A72; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 8px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; width: 70px; padding: 3px; border-right: 2px solid#101010; border-left: 2px solid#101010; border-top: 1px solid#101010; border-top-right-radius: 15px; -moz-border-radius-topright: 15px; border-bottom-left-radius: 15px; -moz-border-radius-topleft: 15px;]

PERSONAGE

[/style][style=width: 425px; padding: 15px; color: #816f74; font-family: helvetica; font-size:9px; text-align: justify; height: 150px; overflow: auto;]★ POSITIVE:

[/i]. Nobody gets to fuck with your stuff, and if they do, then you like to show them how beautiful the bottom of the ocean looks. That reaches to Renn, too.[/ul]
★ NEGATIVE:

★ LIKES:

★ DISLIKES:

[/i].[/ul]
★ HABIT:

• TAPPING - You tend to tap your foot whenever you think or find something interesting.
  
• PUNCHING THINGS - You do this when you get mad. Mostly it's people you punch, but sometimes you just punch your other hand.

★ FEAR:

• BEING DISCOVERED - Nothing you can do about your life now. You just pray that nobody ever roots you out, or you could lose everything.
  
• LOSING RENN - Everything.

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INVENTORY

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★ STRIFE SPECIBUS: Your strife specibus is the GUNBLADEKIND, which consists of you using a pistol in your right hand and a knife in your left. At the moment, your weapons are a H&K UMP .45 and a butterfly knife. You used to use separate GUNKIND and BLADEKIND specibi in battle, but combining the two just seemed so much easier than switching back and forth. Now you can shoot someone, then make SURE they're dead!

You have this second specibus, one that you picked up when you broke your leg a few years back. You've healed since then, but when you were hospitalized and recovering you used the CANEKIND specibus. You're sure that the card is somewhere in your strife portforlio...

★ FETCH MODUS: You use the JACKET MODUS, and your cards are colored black like your coat. Items are placed in captchalog cards, which are then placed into one of the numerous pockets inside your jacket. With the color of the cards, it's sometimes hard to tell which pocket they're in, and also what's stored in each one. You could reach for your pistol and draw out an ink pen. At least you keep your privacy.
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BACK STORY

[/style][style=width: 445px; padding: 15px; color: #816f74; font-family: helvetica; font-size:9px; text-align: justify; overflow: auto;]★ GUARDIAN / ANCESTOR: What? You're the GUARDIAN, you don't have to fill this out! You are the official guardian of Renn Asriel, and have held that title for fourteen years. You've raised him...as best as you could raise a spacekid.


★ HISTORY: You don't remember who your parents are, and to be frank you couldn't care about them. They abandoned you shortly after you were born, leaving you on the doorstep of a New York orphanage.

It made you tough, growing up with the rough-and-tumble of NY's child tossaways, but you wanted to be more than that. You wanted to be smart, to make something out of yourself. So you went to school, every day, even stayed after to make the extra effort. It paid off when you graduated top of your class with honors (not like it was hard when the kid who graduated second in the class became a janitor years later). You didn't stop there though, oh no, you wanted to keep pushing yourself farther, make your past seem insignificant compared to what you would accomplish. You struck out at Harvard, but still made the cut at a lesser-known Ivy League school. You pursued biology, eventually earning your bachelor's degree in it.

It was there that you met a young woman named Emily Fisher. You...would rather not talk about those memories.

You were twenty-two then, and that's when you got a phone call. Neck-deep in school loans and with nowhere to go, you accepted a job with one of your old schoolmates. You robbed a convenience store, and made off with six hundred bucks. That's when you discovered the thrill of crime. It strikes you now as almost ironic, how you ached for something more, only to fall into crime regardless of what you wanted. You continued your studies in various academic areas, usually to pick up hints on what weaknesses your next hit had. Automotive repair brought armored car heists, archaeology brought museum heists, so on and so forth. Your money grew and grew, and so did your influence over the world of crime. With your ruthlessness and cunning, you made it to the top of the underworld in only a few months.

You were on top of the world, swimming in cash and living large. Nothing could stop you.

You had a good run, until the very next year. The plan was simple, you and four other men were hitting a bank for a cache of jewels. In and out, no casualties. That didn't happen. Turns out that your fifth man was a snitch, and sold you out for absolution from his past crimes. The police were waiting for you, and one itchy finger brought a hail of gunfire from both sides. You were the last one left, huddled behind the bank counter for protection. At the moment you gave up hope, the ceiling was smashed, and the force was obliterated by a meteor. Yes, a meteor saved your life. You were even more shocked when you found a child on that meteor. Your savior.

You named him Renn. You liked Renn. As time went on, you tried your best to work Renn into your life while making money the best way you knew how. You had to come off as cold to him, to hide your secret life, but it slipped through your facade sometimes. You picked the best teachers you could find from wherever your latest "job" was, but things didn't work like you wanted. He challenged you (and still does), and you're growing a little tired of it. He's fourteen now, maybe it's time to drop the secrets and lies.

Or maybe he already knows. He's smart, very smart, and you honestly can't be more proud of him. You keep pushing him though. He can't have the same life as you. He can't grow up like you did.
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GUARDIAN OF RENN ASRIEL, JETT HUNTER

You have an important job ahead of you. Care for the page, Jett. Guide him. Most importantly, try not to be too surprised when your fate hits you amidst his own. In the end, some jobs have to be terminated. But, until then, I should extend you a welcome for being such a big part of the Page's life.

WELCOME TO THE SBURB BETA!

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