Jeremiah Patterson

This is OOC information.
Information detailed here is for OOC uses only.

Jeremiah

Full name	Jeremiah Tucker Patterson (Juggernaut)
Date of Birth	Nov. 3, 2486
Parents	Paul 'Pa' Patterson, (B. December 16th, 2455) & Mary 'Ma' Patterson (B. January 4th, 2462)
Siblings	Sarah Jane Patterson, (B. April 10th, 2484 D. Summer 2521) Judith Mary Patterson (B. May 17th, 2490)
Spouse	Unwed
Assignment	Meatshield, Porkchop Express (Formally) Lord Marshal, New Tortuga
Gender	Male
Eyes and Hair	Brown eyes, Brown hair.
Height and Weight	6'5" & 235+ lbs
Status	Inactive
Education Information
No formal education.
Military Service
No military service.

Description

Here stands a good ol' corn fed country boy, lumberin' around at six-five and ripplin' to the brim with muscular definition. His strong, angular face bares weathered scars, testimony to years of experienced labor and service. His thirty-five year old leathery skin stretches over his face, with the occasional wrinkle that doesn't fade away after he quirks a dark brow; the result is his looking much older than is the case. In spite of his gigantic stature, something about this man exudes a homestead familiarity that is very inviting to the fellow blue collar man or woman. Also because of his gigantic stature, it is clear something foreboding and forcefully disastrous lay beneath his amiable features.
Experienced brown eyes, veins typically visible due to some sort of recent physical exertion, peer out from underneath a slightly over-pronounced brow -- a physiological indication of his barbarically inspired proclivities. His hair is self-groomed, always kept cut very close to his head to make the release of heat easier. His beard, kept the same length as his hair, continues smoothly from one ear to the other, traveling along his angular jaw-line in a traditionally amish style. Strong, bold cheekbones stretch the skin to hide his dimples, which are readily visible when he's smiling and nowhere to betray him when expressing unpleased features.

History

Life on Triumph isn't exactly the most comfortable life, but the fierce amount of Faith and Willpower native to the Rim Planet's soil doesn't come from a comfortable life. Those come from Triumph are sturdy folk, and so it was for the Pattersons. Pa Patterson, whose true life name was Paul, herded livestock imported from other moons, sold em off to butchers for a modest earning. He was an honest, hardworking sort, every now and them importing illegal cargo tariff free just to keep his family above water, but this to him was no amoral thing, just a way to put food on the table. Ma Patterson, whose true life name was Mary, was a bonified bonnet and dress totin' milk maiden. A plump pale white woman with bouncy features and almost always wearing the same blue dress covered in milk as she clumbsily hauled a milk pale towards the house from the barn. They were both Godfearing people, always condemning Jeremiah for his lack of a zealous personality, and for his interest in leaving Triumph. The simple life was good enough for them, they thought, why must Jeremiah be so difficult? Ranching family, Jeremiah grew up with a lot of freedoms, long as he did what he was responsible for. Thing is, when he was done with responsibilities, boy would wander with a ravenous curiosity, and took a liking to a game of gettin lost in the woods and findin his way home. Every now and then he'd see the ships that brought his family the livestock they ranched, and he'd sneak up into the ships. Of course, hiding in cargo bays goes from fun to funner when the ship actually takes off with you in it. Those lucky times, Jeremiah was able to meet a whole crew of people from planets he'd only heard of, hear stories he'd never dreamed of, and gained skills his parents wouldn't have been proud of. Each ship building a slight amount of knowledge of the crew beforehand before finally dropping him back off on Triumph. Before the time he was 21, he had a basic understanding of the way a crew worked on a ship, and how to use a multitude of weaponry, this knowledge motivated him when on planetside. In hopes to join a crew himself after leaping off the primitive rock of Triumph, Jeremiah worked his body to the core, always seeking to be stronger, quicker, with better reaction time to dangerous situations. His game of getting lost in the woods became a game of survival, and his sneaking onto ships became brief plays at leaving home. This took him to the age 30, when finally, a ship decided not to drop him back off on Triumph, but instead, sign him up themselves...

Questions

What profession(s) do you think you will be, or are?: I reckon' I ain't fit fer much else o'er bein' a Gunslinger. Reckon if I join a crew needs a feller fer defendin' 'em, I could prolly do that right well. Ain't fit fer much else, could prolly hunt down someone all right if I need ta, bounty 'n all.

What is your personality like?: Uhhh, reckon I'm friendly 'nuff. (Jeremiah's a well intended, overly honest sort. He'll naively say things, perhaps with the best of intentions, or intending to make a joke, that others might find to be insanely offensive or disturbing in nature. He doesn't have much in the way of social graces, but what he lacks in social graces he makes up for in being able to shoot stuff.)

What is your character's goal(s) in life?: Jeremiah doesn't have much in terms of goals, he seeks to fill every momentary desire immediately when he feels said desire. His only joy in life comes from following his impulses, and very few of his actions come with considerations of long term goals. What do you want to develop on a personal level from this point on?: Bigger, better, faster, stronger. Sharper, deadlier, wealthier. More, more, more.

Do you see yourself as a follower, a leader, a loner, or otherwise?: A follower, and with such fierce loyalty as could rarely be matched.

What are your morals like?: If it don't hurt me or mine, I reckon it's fair play. Iffin' yer gonna try'n pick a fight with anyone I got ter do with, yer gonna haffa helluva fight on yer hands. 'N I'll prolly keep those hands 'n sell 'em to a backwater doc sort.

Barbossa

A very tiny, cinnamon Capuchin monkey. The diaper clad monkey is obviously an infant and is usually found clinging to a soft and fuzzy blanket.