Calvin Justice

[Thraxis]

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/266205027946979272/​

NAME: Calvin Justice
FACTION: Justice Shipping
RANK: To be determined.
SPECIES: Quarter Zeltron
AGE: 17
SEX: Male
HEIGHT: Four Foot, Eight Inches.
WEIGHT: Seventy-Eight pounds.
EYES: Left Eye is Brown. Blind in the other eye due to a rather nasty fall into the side of a table.
HAIR: Black. Windswept Style
SKIN: Pale White.

FORCE SENSITIVE: Non-Sensitive

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STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES (Required: 2 Weaknesses Minimum) :
+Urban Survivalist: Due to his harsh upbringing, he had to develop the capabilities to survive in harsh and near completely neglected.​

+Chinese Whispers: Growing up surrounded by homeless degenerates, he learned how to get what he wanted, mainly through spreading rumors and corrupting the truth to get people in desirable circumstances.​

+Pistol Whip: All his life he had one thing in life. A small handgun, a Small Blaster to be exact.​

+\-Zeltron: Got a little bit of Zeltron running' through him, so he emits slight amounts of the pheromones, though lacks the second liver or the ability to project his emotions.​

-Depth Perception: Due to lacking one of his eyes he has no sense of depth perception, unable to get a clear indication of where people are he can at best guess.​

-Inferiority Complex: After learning about his extended family, their gifts and all that, Calvin has struggled to capture any real form of attention, a sense of acceptation that he will never rise close to any family member has given him a form of depression of sorts that will constantly keep him down.​

-Distrusting: Who can be trusted in a word where lies are so easily spread. Calvin knows that no one is to be trusted.

APPEARANCE:
Face: His skin looks coarse and rough, his untidy hair being cut only when necessary and done by himself with nothing more then a pair of rusty scissors, causing scrapes and bruises to lightly bruise his forehead. Though it is covered by a thin layer of hair. His eye is covered with a thin eye patch that he stole from a local bandit. The eye patch covers his right eye preventing people from seeing the wispy white that engulfed his entire eye. A small scar remains from the event.​

Body: His body like the rest of his skin is coarse and rough, from the grueling labors he endured while growing up with the homeless who made him do the physical labor for them. Though this did not serve the skin, it did make his body hardier making him develop more lean muscle. As he grew older his skin remained the hardened tone, even advancing worse and worse, a heavy layer of callous lingers on his fingers, the signs of hard work ever present on his skin and unable to allude to any other type of work.

Tattoos: His body has prominent tattoos embedded into his skin, the story behind that is of little importance to him, they were simply there as a means to garner some money for himself to spend. The markings have so long been present on his body that it has more then once inspired the suspicions of folk as to him being form a thuggish background,

BIOGRAPHY:
Abandoned at a birth onto a space cruiser, he was bounced from person to person and planet to planet until he was taken in by a group of homeless people on Syvris.

Young Age: From as soon as he could walk and talk he was doing chores for the homeless people that kept him sheltered. It was not a loving family, nor even a family at all. It was a mutual agreement that was never spoken. It was them needing someone young to cook their food and clean their clothes. If anything they were not homeless, they had a decent set-up, a tarp between to shops to keep away the rain and cold. Some crates and barrels surrounding them to keep out cold gusts of wind and near a river for them to was their clothes in. Everyone had a role, they would beg for money and Calvin made them food and cleaned their clothes for them given their age.

Teenage Years: It had been a tiresome life up until now. He was old enough to fend for himself, at lest that is what he told himself, it was unfortunate but the last of the homeless people that raised him had died of old age and disease and left him to fight for himself. He took the meager money they had and spent it on a few necessities, a Blaster Pistol to let him kill rats, some of their clothing and the rest he left behind. It was a good setup, but that good a setup with a kid his age was bound to bring more trouble then it was worth. Down the line he took the odd jobs he could, kill some rats, be a tattoo artists paper so he could practice and all. It were hard fought years but one question continued to plague him. Who was his mother and father?

The Last Years: It had been a few years now, he had been all alone, grown harsh like the winds of Hoth. He had saved a lot of money up over the years, he was saving up for one thing. He needed to know who his parents were. So he took his money to someone who could find out. A 150 credits to his name he went to an information broker and waited for his return. It was 8 long months until he was finally told. His dad was James Justice. His mother was some women he bedded. The eyes rung a cord, a note that was so familiar. An evil smirk grew on his face, he had heard the name, it was someone who was rich. Someone, who might just be his meal ticket.

Justice Life: Life is never easy to adapt to from homelessness to some moderate amount of wealth, but a leap straight to richness was one to hard for him to adapt too. He never accepted the money from his father, even the room he was given he left, choosing instead to get his own work. Though he thought he could get along with his merit, his father still spoke a few words and it got him into positions he wanted, not ones of power like a business, but an odd job as an apprentice in an honest trade.

After a few, months he adapted, he was young and already renting out his own room and setting himself up for the future, the plentiful parties his father tallied in were rarely accompanied with his presence, instead he had to do what he needed. Study, work and study more. Though it was this exact mediocrity that he sustained that had far more detrimental effects then he realized. In the entire family, he was the only one not a Force User, and titled himself the Black Sheep of the family, he had no mind for business, his sister could read his mind while he was stuck to guess and his half-sister was already making a name for herself in the galaxy, something not hard to do with the Justice name.

But try as he might, the name Justice lingered behind him like a returning infection, he never tried to become a popular kid, he tried to avoid them, they were a distraction and always bringing unwanted attention, he separated himself far enough that few people knew he was actually a Justice, though the rumor mill stirred, some wanted to get in with him to get to the parties, others already had plans on getting in good with the Justice. Though as for what he wanted, it was never there concern. The few people who gave even an inkling of a care was his father and those he choose to acquaint himself with.
SHIP: None

KILLS: None

BOUNTIES COLLECTED: None

Equipment:
Blaster Pistol
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