Post by J. Shaw on Aug 11, 2009 22:30:38 GMT -6
James Shaw
vitals
nick names = Shaw
gender = male
age = 40
race = Human
homeworld = Terra
areas of skill = ranching, riding, shooting
preferred profession = rancher
starting location = Heimdall[/size][/ul]
visuals
hair = a somewhat messy head of brown hair
eyes = light brown
distinguishing features = small scars here and there across his torso/back from various skirmishes with goblins[/size][/ul]
personality
dislikes = goblins, being cooped up inside too long, Terra
strengths = good rancher, hardworking, trustworthy
weaknesses = prone to getting into fights
describe full personality = Shaw is a simple man. He enjoys the outdoors and working his ranch. He's not interested in technological wonders or space flight or any of that jargon. No, he believes a man was put on the earth to work the earth, and that's how it should always be. Sand and dirt, horses and cattle, that's his calling. He has a bit of a temper, but struggles more with pride than anything, thus making it quite hard for him to walk away from a fight, which in some cases tends to be a stress reliever for him when spending time with his herds simply can't suffice. Regardless of his activites, Shaw is known as one of the best ranchers on Heimdall, and his herds are well sought after by the restaurants of Terra. A fact he won't let you forget.[/ul]
so the story begins...
Growing up in the Top of Terra had it's advantages, but for James Shaw, it was nothing but an inconvenience and a bore. Schooling and other activities forced upon him were nothing short of the worst torture a boy like him could endure. It wasn't that he was bad at school, it was just that his mind wandered and he found much more delight in reading his own chosen materials in the family greenhouse, over boring schoolwork in a stuffy classroom. The books that most captured his attention were the history books, most notably the ones that spoke of Terra before the technology and the cities took over. He was captivated by the Humans' tales of settlers and new lands. Terra no longer had places to discover. It was one big smelly metal and cement city.
When word broke that Humans had landed on Heimdall, he was 15 and immediately excited about the photos the news feeds were sharing with the world. The place looked just like some of those images from his books and favourite old movies. He knew exactly where he wanted to be at that very moment. The call for people willing to relocate to the new planet and begin cultivating resources came a year after, once a port had been established. A 16-year-old Shaw was on that ship in an instant, ready to be employed as a ranch hand in one of the newly established ranches. Most humans being generally out of the farming loop for some time, the ranchers and farm hands had to work together to learn and build a brand new empire of cattle ranching in order to finally supply Terra with much needed organic meat: Something that hadn't been readily available in years.
As he worked his way through the years, Shaw gained himself a good reputation amongst his peers, and did not go unnoticed by the boss. A childless widower (his wife had been taken by Goblins), the boss willed the ranch to James, and when the man finally passed, James had inherited quite a business; something he is extremely proud of to this day.[/size][/ul]
Shaw was kicked back on the porch with a good book, in the middle of a good yawn when he realized a hover shuttle off in the distance, kicking up dust as it swooped towards the ranch. He grumbled a bit. He knew exactly who and what it was, tearing across the prairie.
Another crop of rich Terran Toppers, looking for a "luxury" authentic horseback riding experience. They were always a pain, swooping on down to his planet just to annoy his horses, look down on his dirty clothes, and then leave again without so much as a thank you. At least they left him with a nice pile of credits.
He sighed and got out of his chair, prepping himself to greet them with the best fake sincerity he could muster. It was business, but boy were they the most annoying kind. He tucked his gun into the back band of his pants and headed down the path in order to be there when the snobs decided to emerge out of their world, and into his.[/size][/ul]
the real you
age = 22
how did you find us? = my site!
any last words? = nevah!![/size][/ul][/font]
