MARS, JACK TREVOR

[jack]

JACK TREVOR MARS !?
Stars hide your fires; these here are my desires
And I won’t give them up to you this time around.

FULL NAME Jack Trevor Mars
NICKNAMES Mars
AGE 25
GENDER Male
BIRTHDAY March 4th
SPECIES Human
ALLIANCE Neutral
SEXUALITY Heterosexual

PLAY-BY Jensen Ackles
EYES Green, usually squinted but surprisingly large when fully open.
HAIR Short, spiky, medium brown.
BODY TYPE Medium-athletic, broad shouldered.
HEIGHT 6’0
WEIGHT 210
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES Aside from ever-present 5 o’clock shadow and a great smile, Jack has a collection of scars, many of which he can’t remember the origin of.
STYLE Effortless and casual are two things Jack looks for in acquiring clothing. He wants to be comfortable above all. He does realize, however, that the way you look effects how people treat you, so he takes care never to look unkempt or dirty, at least when he knows he needs to make an impression.

LIKES At least 10.

• 70s horror movies
  
• Fun dip candy
  
• Dogs
  
• Blue Moon beer
  
• Basketball
  
• Kiwi fruit
  
• Brunettes
  
• Rock music
  
• Ridiculously expensive cars
  
• Gambling
  

DISLIKES At least 10.

• Board games
  
• Glitter
  
• Dolls
  
• Bible-thumpers
  
• Clowns
  
• Not getting what he wants
  
• Authority
  
• Waiting in line
  
• Fish
  
• Boredom
  

STRENGTHS At least 4.

• Willing to fight for something he cares about
  
• Determined, driven
  
• Resourceful
  
• Sense of humor
  

WEAKNESSES At least 4.

• Impatient
  
• Quick to anger
  
• Addictive personality
  
• Apathetic
  

HABITS At least 3.

• Touches his lips when he’s thinking about/watching a girl
  
• Has to eat breakfast every day, refuses to leave his apartment until he has
  
• In a fight/argument, will take a deep breath and look his most calm before completely exploding
  

FEARS At least 3.

• Being paralyzed/otherwise helpless
  
• Getting reckless/out of control, as he has done in the past
  
• The things in the dark he knows exist but can’t put a name to
  

DESIRES At least 1.

• To find out about the strange things he knows are happening all around him.
  

SECRETS At least 1.

• Jack is secretly afraid of his life getting boring, which would be the worst thing in the world to him. No matter how much the strange things he’s seen tend to scare him, he’s always a little grateful, because at least he’s not wasting away watching TV like the rest of humanity.
  

OVERALL

Jack was raised learning to take what he could get. He is not the type of person to take no for an answer. He is also not the type to shy away from using any means to get what he wants. He is not sensitive in any sense of the word. He is willing to get dirty, is even willing to hurt people, though he would prefer not to, and he would never hurt someone who didn’t provoke it. This perseverance is tempered by the fact that Jack is not the type to care about things easily. He is firey when he’s passionate about something, but he is passionate about very few things. His apathy makes it difficult to keep up relationships sometimes; occasionally he will just forget to keep trying to keep it alive, and his friend/lover will just drift away. This doesn’t bother Jack often. He is also socially apathetic; he is aware that some of the extremely blunt things he says can be hurtful, but he does not often take care to censor himself. When he cares about a person, however, he is a great listener, and exceptionally good at making a person laugh to cheer them up or get their mind off a problem.

Jack has an addictive personality. When he does finally manage to care about something, he does so almost obsessively. This comes in handy sometimes; for instance, any of the people he considers close friends, he would literally die for in a heartbeat. He would throw himself in front of a train if it would save a stray dog. This becomes a problem, though, when it comes to substances. Jack has gone through bouts of addiction, from gambling to alcohol to lesser drugs to some frightening, serious ones. He has overcome them all, usually due to sheer strength of will and not what anyone tries to say to him. But he always has to be careful. He can fall into traps easily. He hates authority; when he was younger he couldn’t hold a job to save his life because the instant his boss would try to pull superior rank, Jack would do something disrespectful. He hates the idea of anyone thinking he is a subordinate. He is leadership material with no real urge to lead anything.

MOTHER Hannah Elizabeth Slauson. Deceased
FATHEREric Jackson Mars. Deceased.
SIBLINGS Younger brother- Henry Eric Mars. Deceased (at 2 years)
OTHER PERSONS OF IMPORTANCE Jack has a small collection of friends, no significant others, and often a stray dog in his apartment, though they don’t stay long as his landlord will not allow it.
ETHNICITY Caucasian.
WEALTH STATUS Comfortable, lower middle class.
OVERALL
Jack is now a largely solitary person due to the way he was raised. He had a brother, born a year after him, who he was raised with for 2 years until he wandered out of the house and was struck by a car. His parents, devastated from the loss, might have split up except that their relationship was already almost nonexistent: his father Eric was in the Navy, stationed at a military base almost two hundred miles away, and only saw his family on rare visits and holidays. His mother, withdrawn, easily stressed and prone to crying fits, did her best at raising Jack, but he found he had to accomplish most things without her help. He rode two separate buses to get to school by himself from the age of 10. He bought his first car with his own money saved from various part-time jobs. He went through his rebellions teenage years without anyone to really rebel against; when he became involved with the wrong people, doing the wrong things, no one really protested. His mom hardly noticed. He had to grow up, realize he was in the stupid annoying teenage boy phase, and get out of it all on his own.
When his father died, his mother was even less helpful. Jack was really the one taking care of her. He did a great job, never doubted that he was a good son, until she died, as well. It was mysterious; no doctor could tell what had killed her. It was labeled “natural causes,” though what was natural about a healthy, albeit sad, 42 year old woman, Jack didn’t know.
His life did not change much after his family was gone. He still took care of himself entirely. He used his small inheritance to get himself an apartment, keep his car running, stay comfortable. He went through more phases, as he was prone to do; drugs, liquor, gambling. He lost a lot of his money. He worked most of it back. He had friends, a string of girlfriends, none serious. His life was largely normal.
Largely, but not entirely.
Jack was the kind of person mysterious things were attracted to. Some spiritual people he mentioned these things to called him “sensitive” or said he had “vision,” but Jack thought he just paid more attention than others. He saw things he couldn’t explain. He heard things no one else did. Once his car popped a tire, and he decided to walk the last three blocks home and take care of it in the morning. He saw a distinctly human figure standing across a street, and as he started to turn his head away, he swore he saw it turn and climb effortlessly up a completely flat, vertical wall. He woke up once and had a conversation with a voice that had no physical body to accompany it in his room. This he chalked up to a dream, but it was hard to convince himself of it when he’d been sitting up, completely alert. He heard screams in an alley at night, ran toward it, hoping to help, and found blood splattered across a brick wall, no bodies, and thick, wiry, coarse hair stuck on a nearby fence. These instances were not enough to bother him, just enough to make him question what was really going on. Jack is not a religious person at all. He is at best, agnostic. But he knows something else is going on in the dark. Something most people don’t see, and no one acknowledges. Something is being kept from him, and from most people. It’s starting to bother him. And when something bothers Jack, he will not rest until he’s solved the problem.

NAME/ALIAS Julie
AGE 20
TIME ZONE Pacific US
HOW YOU FOUND US Adverts.
OTHER CHARACTERS None.
RP SAMPLE

What we do is right. We defend people who can’t defend themselves. We get rid of the scum walking the streets, wallowing in sin, infecting others with their cruelty, their vice. Our methods may be violent, but our cause is just.

Casey O’Malley could hear his father’s words echoing through his head. He replayed them over and over, trying to reassure himself. It was not easy when every time he looked down into his lap he saw split, bloody knuckles and dark spots from gunpowder staining his fingers. Casey quickly shifted as a Priest walked by, hiding his hands under his jacket and closing his eyes as if in prayer. The Priest walked by him, disappearing behind a door past the altar. Casey’s eyes opened again, and he sighed quietly.

He was sitting in the Saint Joseph Catholic church at 11 at night, trying to pray for forgiveness while his father’s words played over and over again. Why should he feel guilty, and why should he have to ask forgiveness if what they were doing was right? The O’Malleys worked to better their town, to judge those corrupting the people of Las Vegas and punish them accordingly. But the only way to take back their city was to react with violence. It seemed wrong.

It hadn’t seemed wrong earlier that night, when Casey and his brother had walked into a crack den, pretended to be customers long enough to get a meeting with the head supplier, and then beat his bodyguards to death before shooting him in the head. The man had been evil. It was as plain as day. He supplied young women and teenagers with crack, got them addicted until they ran out of money and had to work for him just to feed their habit. He was scum. And he’d died for it.

But now, in hindsight, Casey wasn’t so sure of his actions. He and his brother had gotten beat on. His twin was currently unconscious at Casey’s apartment, sprawled across the sofa with an ice pack on his head. Casey had fared a little better, with only split knuckles and a black eye. But while he was relatively uninjured, his conscience hadn’t escaped unharmed.

People like that needed to be taken care of. The cops couldn’t catch everyone, particularly when half of them were working for the pushers and the pimps anyway.

”Lord, please…” he started, speaking quietly to himself in the empty church. He couldn’t finish the plea for forgiveness.

The cops couldn’t stop every deal, every assault, every holdup. Casey’s mind went dark for a moment. They hadn’t stopped the holdup at O’Malley’s pub that had led to his mother being killed. No one had taken care of those demented, evil men. No one had saved her. Casey wondered how many people would be better off now that those crackheads he'd dealt with were gone.

”Lord,” he said, his voice confident now, ”Help my brother dodge punches better next time. And let me remember to wear something to protect my damn fool hands. And if we do get sent to hell for this, I hope you’ll keep in mind…well, we were trying our best.” He opened his eyes, looking up, grinning now.

"Amen."

[JURATE]

accepted,
welcome to cry of the fallen,
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