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Jul. 22nd, 2019 03:46 am
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Name: Jean Ferey
Age: 25
Height: 167cm // 5'5"
Weight: 64kg // 140lb
Build: Small and slight, with a runner's build.
General appearance/style of dress: Usually favors a cargo-pants-and-tshirt combo when hanging around the compound. Frequently barefoot, and it's not uncommon to see him in shorts in summer. Has a distinct fondness for small items of jewelry; leather cords and wooden beads are usually in evidence somewhere. Of course on the job he could be wearing more or less anything, and very probably pulling it off.
Skills:
-Cooking
-Parkour
-Speaks four languages fluently (French, Spanish, Portuguese, English)
-And a dozen more with varying levels of competence (Notably Italian, Russian, and Cantonese)
-Truly gifted bullshit artist
Backstory: Born and raised in Cayenne in French Guiana, though you'd never guess it from his accent (or lack thereof). His mother died when he was very young, and his father - a construction worker and borderline alcoholic - didn't spend a great deal of time at home. What he had in the way of an upbringing was largely down to his older sister, Adrienne.
On the whole his childhood was relatively uneventful. Until, that is, his father had has kneecaps smashed for failure to pay a gambling debt when Jean was fifteen; leaving him crippled, unable to work, and apparently more interested in crawling into a bottle than doing anything to make things easier on the rest of them. With the greater part of their income abruptly gone the family was in a bad place financially speaking.
Adrienne did what she could, dropping out of school to get a full-time job and pay the bills. Of course at his age Jean didn't stand much chance of finding legitimate work for anything more than a pittance. But what he did have was sharp eyes, nimble fingers, and a gift for talking himself out of trouble. What followed next seemed like the most natural progression in the world.
It started small: lifting unattended items, ripping off tourists with more money than sense. And then before long things began to escalate. He knew a guy who would buy dubiously-acquired items without awkward questions, who knew a guy who knew a guy who might just be able to find more lucrative work for an enterprising young thief looking for something more than small time stuff...
Things only snowballed from there. Within a few years 'business' was taking him further and further afield - and getting correspondingly more profitable along the way - to the point where he was only ever home for long enough to drop off a share of the profits and reassure his family that he was still alive and in one piece. His sister, fearing that he was courting an even worse fate than the one which had befallen their father, tried several times to talk him into straightening out. She didn't have a great deal of success.
By the time his father finally drank himself to death, Jean was twenty-two years old, and at that point heavily involved in some highly dubious fraud-related activities in Buenos Aries. He didn't find it especially necessary to go back to Cayenne for the funeral.
He might have carried on in much the same vein forever (or until he got in over his head and got himself killed) if it weren't for a job in Guadalajara that blew up in his face in truly epic fashion. Turned out his contact had withheld a few crucial facts. Turned out the gang he'd just crossed had friends in very high places. Turned out he was well and truly fucked.
It was in the middle of this extremely unpleasant tight corner that he was contacted by a representative of a mercenary organization known as Grimm, letting it be known that they might just be interested in employing someone with his particular skillset. And that they might just have the resources to help someone out of a tight corner, if they had an investment to protect...
In the end he spent a total of not quite three years with Grimm in the capacity as a con artist, honing his skills and picking up some new ones along the way. Eventually there was an unpleasant situation involving a mole, a plot against the organization, and rather more deaths than he was strictly in favor of. When their base of operations was destroyed he took the opportunity to vanish.
Personality: Jean is what you might call a social chameleon. How he acts at any given time will be dependent on his mood, who he's with, and what he's trying to achieve. Even when not on a job he has a tendency to unconsciously mimic the speech patterns and mannerisms of whoever he's talking to. He is highly sociable and entirely at ease in the company of others; it is rare to see him alone. But at the same time he plays things close to the vest and gives very little of himself away. It makes him rather hard to pin down.
But there are a few traits which are consistent enough to be very definitely his own. His sense of humour, for one. He's inclined toward excessive sarcasm, and has a bad habit of keeping up an unhelpfully snarky running commentary on events. Whether this takes place aloud or not is largely a matter of who's listening and how much effort he's putting into not being an ass.
He's a strange combination of cynic and optimist: he believes that just because you shouldn't do something is no reason not to do it, and that life is too short to follow all the rules. He doesn't believe in regrets. You make your choices and you don't look back. He's comfortable with his choices and who he is, and though he's sometimes inclined to get philosophical, he has no interest in or patience for second-guessing and self-doubt.
Age: 25
Height: 167cm // 5'5"
Weight: 64kg // 140lb
Build: Small and slight, with a runner's build.
General appearance/style of dress: Usually favors a cargo-pants-and-tshirt combo when hanging around the compound. Frequently barefoot, and it's not uncommon to see him in shorts in summer. Has a distinct fondness for small items of jewelry; leather cords and wooden beads are usually in evidence somewhere. Of course on the job he could be wearing more or less anything, and very probably pulling it off.
Skills:
-Cooking
-Parkour
-Speaks four languages fluently (French, Spanish, Portuguese, English)
-And a dozen more with varying levels of competence (Notably Italian, Russian, and Cantonese)
-Truly gifted bullshit artist
Backstory: Born and raised in Cayenne in French Guiana, though you'd never guess it from his accent (or lack thereof). His mother died when he was very young, and his father - a construction worker and borderline alcoholic - didn't spend a great deal of time at home. What he had in the way of an upbringing was largely down to his older sister, Adrienne.
On the whole his childhood was relatively uneventful. Until, that is, his father had has kneecaps smashed for failure to pay a gambling debt when Jean was fifteen; leaving him crippled, unable to work, and apparently more interested in crawling into a bottle than doing anything to make things easier on the rest of them. With the greater part of their income abruptly gone the family was in a bad place financially speaking.
Adrienne did what she could, dropping out of school to get a full-time job and pay the bills. Of course at his age Jean didn't stand much chance of finding legitimate work for anything more than a pittance. But what he did have was sharp eyes, nimble fingers, and a gift for talking himself out of trouble. What followed next seemed like the most natural progression in the world.
It started small: lifting unattended items, ripping off tourists with more money than sense. And then before long things began to escalate. He knew a guy who would buy dubiously-acquired items without awkward questions, who knew a guy who knew a guy who might just be able to find more lucrative work for an enterprising young thief looking for something more than small time stuff...
Things only snowballed from there. Within a few years 'business' was taking him further and further afield - and getting correspondingly more profitable along the way - to the point where he was only ever home for long enough to drop off a share of the profits and reassure his family that he was still alive and in one piece. His sister, fearing that he was courting an even worse fate than the one which had befallen their father, tried several times to talk him into straightening out. She didn't have a great deal of success.
By the time his father finally drank himself to death, Jean was twenty-two years old, and at that point heavily involved in some highly dubious fraud-related activities in Buenos Aries. He didn't find it especially necessary to go back to Cayenne for the funeral.
He might have carried on in much the same vein forever (or until he got in over his head and got himself killed) if it weren't for a job in Guadalajara that blew up in his face in truly epic fashion. Turned out his contact had withheld a few crucial facts. Turned out the gang he'd just crossed had friends in very high places. Turned out he was well and truly fucked.
It was in the middle of this extremely unpleasant tight corner that he was contacted by a representative of a mercenary organization known as Grimm, letting it be known that they might just be interested in employing someone with his particular skillset. And that they might just have the resources to help someone out of a tight corner, if they had an investment to protect...
In the end he spent a total of not quite three years with Grimm in the capacity as a con artist, honing his skills and picking up some new ones along the way. Eventually there was an unpleasant situation involving a mole, a plot against the organization, and rather more deaths than he was strictly in favor of. When their base of operations was destroyed he took the opportunity to vanish.
Personality: Jean is what you might call a social chameleon. How he acts at any given time will be dependent on his mood, who he's with, and what he's trying to achieve. Even when not on a job he has a tendency to unconsciously mimic the speech patterns and mannerisms of whoever he's talking to. He is highly sociable and entirely at ease in the company of others; it is rare to see him alone. But at the same time he plays things close to the vest and gives very little of himself away. It makes him rather hard to pin down.
But there are a few traits which are consistent enough to be very definitely his own. His sense of humour, for one. He's inclined toward excessive sarcasm, and has a bad habit of keeping up an unhelpfully snarky running commentary on events. Whether this takes place aloud or not is largely a matter of who's listening and how much effort he's putting into not being an ass.
He's a strange combination of cynic and optimist: he believes that just because you shouldn't do something is no reason not to do it, and that life is too short to follow all the rules. He doesn't believe in regrets. You make your choices and you don't look back. He's comfortable with his choices and who he is, and though he's sometimes inclined to get philosophical, he has no interest in or patience for second-guessing and self-doubt.
