Name: Paragon Whitfield
Nickname: Tinker
Age: 25
Sex: Male
On-Ship Job: Carpenter
Theme Song: Scar Tissue by Red Hot Chili Peppers
Appearance: Standing at 6'0”, he's by no means the tallest man on the ship, but he doesn't feel dwarfed either. One would first noticed his cold, pale grey eyes, set on a masculine face that's both stern and forbidding. They seem misplaced when there's a wide, friendly smile accompanying them. Unlike many of his crew mates, Tinker has never had long, silky hair, and keeps a short, cropped cut. Blessed with black hair, he often slicks it back with fragrant oils. He isn't lazy as if facial hair would suggest, Tinker just likes to keep his scraggly beard nice and neat; he thinks it attracts women, but he seems to do the opposite. He wears the accustomed large white shirt, made from light-material, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to keep him from nailing himself to the ship. He's always donning his brown leather gloves made from some sort of animal, though they've become tattered over the years. He wears his favourite black and blue patterned bandanna around his neck—to wipe the sweat from his eyes—which he'd gotten on one of his “exploits.” He wears a pair of dark-green, tight-fitting leggings that are tucked into knee-high laced boots. Opting to have a bright-coloured red sash instead of an efficient belt, he keeps his scabbard firmly attached to his hip, along with his flintlock pistol. The only thing, in his opinion, that mars his “perfect” handsome appearance, is the ugly scar that maims his left eye. He wears an eye patch most of the time, although the remnants of the scar peeks out underneath it, looking like burnt tissue. Another scar due to burns begins at the left side of his neck but stops just below his left shoulder. He thought of tattooing over it, but thought there'd be some complications because of the scars. Instead, he had a large mean-looking black panther tattooed on his right shoulder blade and soaring hawk on his left bicep.
Personality
Personality: Tinker would probably be the most civilized person on the ship, or he tries to be. It doesn't mean that he's not keen to joking around, he's not very serious when it comes to most situations. Some might call him crude, but he thinks his heart is in the right place in spite of what he may say. He is generous and witty, often looking out for others before himself. His intentions are not always clear but they are not entirely innocent either. He's outgoing and self-confident, usually talkative and at ease in others' company. Some people find him highly likeable while others find him a bit irritating, depending on the case. He's honest, direct and loyal, while tending to have quite a volatile temper and lack of tact. He knows what he likes, and has little patience for what “offends others.” He can be tense, focused and stubborn. Tinker's outgoing and brash, tending to shock those who know him well.
Tinker always has good manners, due to his mother teaching him right, especially for one with a job on a ship. He's one who likes to indulge in the finer things in life: perfumes, oils, soaps, and the like. Tinker doesn't seem to know how to express his feelings in words. He'll purposely butts heads' with someone to express affection; tending to send mixed messages about his feelings. He can definitely show fondness (although sometimes it comes out as being inappropriate). He's not the hardiest person out there, but he's also not known to be the one squirrelling away to wait for things to blow over. Tinker doesn't learn from his mistakes, either that or he just suffers from a bad memory. If Tinker was ever compared to an animal, it would probably be a cat: he's aloof unless interested, confident, prideful and will keep tailing someone if there's a chance of his belly being rubbed (or actually, even if there's no chance). He's a versatile person, with a penchant for being showy—he wouldn't think twice trying to seduce a woman, even if he fails miserably. He knows he can always turn-tail and head for the ports whorehouses. The word love is lost on him, he's never experienced it and he's never met a fiery woman who's knocked some sense into him.
Tinker is certainly not passive, but he's rarely antagonistic towards others. If there's no fight to be had, you won't expect him to jump in trying to find one. Not one to be easily intimidated by those bigger and stronger than he, this is where he's “stupid” in fights. He's had his reckless head kicked in more times than he'd like to mention, but he won't back down until he's unconscious, making him a good man to be with when exchanging fists. He's able to change gears at full speed - deciding to take a different course of action, or having his thought process move in a completely different direction; making him unpredictable, or just indecisive. No one seems to know if he's complex or just another idiot with one thing on his mind.
Virtues: 'Formidable' is a word to describe him in a fight, or stupid. Whichever it is, Tinker's good with his fists and an even better shot. Strong loyalty; hard-worker; generally easy-going; charming.
Vices: Lecherous; he's a mind-boggling man who can't keep his hands to himself. He's overly blunt; weak to alcohol; stubborn as a bull, with a hard head to boot; terrible at navigation and an even worse sense of direction, often gets himself lost.
Skills: Tinker is considerably good at making things, hence his nickname. He can take one thing made for certain purposes, and create something else with even more purposes. He's an amazing carpenter, taking it so far as to build things—he knows tools and carpentry like the back of his hand, it's become his passion. He's a skilled marksman, an ability he honed as a child where he shot a dusty pistol into the side of an abandoned barn, even though he's never had to shoot anyone. In a fist fight, he can heft a few good punches, but he's clumsy and usually resorts to fighting dirty. The man's got a silver tongue and persuading or negotiating with someone was always his strong point. If Tinker had never become a carpenter on the beauty, Dragon's Knave, he probably would have been a ranger of some sort with: perfected horsemanship, good tracking ability, decent hunting and fishing, and the ability to survive out in the wilderness. His horrible sense of direction was the only thing that would put a dampen on that. Tinker is also a very good dancer, whenever he has free time, he hides away in one of the back rooms of the ship and practices. Tinker, however, couldn't use a sword if his life depended on it; although, he's interested in learning.
Secrets: Tinker is terrified of fire, he has flashbacks to when his mother and the horses were set on fire and he swears he can feel the heat on his body. Because of this, he's extremely wary of candles or other sources of fire on the ship.
Tinker suffers from nightmares every night causing him to scream or talk in his sleep, which is usually why he can be found up late although he'll usually just say, "Stargazing, beautiful night."
Equipment:
One flintlock pistol
A small satchel with essential carpentry tools
A set of small dirks in his boot
A well-polished scimitar
Past
Reason for Leaving: Tinker feels there's nothing left for him to do at home and yearns for peace of mind.
History: Born in a busybody port to a mother who dotted on him since birth, it seemed like Tinker's life wasn't anything out of the ordinary. They weren't poor nor were they rich, they fit somewhere in the middle and that suited him just fine. Although, he wasn't “fortunate” enough to know his bastard father who'd taken off upon hearing that his mother was pregnant, he concluded that he didn't want to know the man anyway. They lived in a small homestead a few leagues from the actual port, where they raised and bred strong horses for richer families His mother taught him everything he knew about the horses, and he took pride in his work. Soon enough, he took up another hobby—he'd found his fathers old tools in the sturdy shed, and began to learn how to mend small things, even going as far as finding someone in town to become an apprentice. Tinker wasn't sure why but the job filled him with pride, he loved fixing things, he loved the smell of the tools, and he loved tinkering. He'd sit in the shed all night, making small knick-knacks and mending what his mother couldn't.
When Tinker came of age, his mother was pushing for him to find a suitor. The idea didn't excite him, he was known for being promiscuous and visiting the whorehouses in his free time under his master, but he couldn't say no to her. Most of the time, the way suitors worked, was that they were shoved into the bosom of some younger girl without much choice. Unhappily, his mother had decided—upon speaking to one of the young ladies father—that this girl named, Emilia, was the chosen one for him. Despite trying to entertain his mothers wishes, the girl was detestable, annoying, whiny and he couldn't stand her. Often, he'd had to hold his tongue from making the girl cry. She was far too young, and far too impossible.
One day, as he was tending to the horses, there had been word that Emilia had disappeared into the hills. Immediately, with the whispers of Tinker's displeasure, Emilia's family turned to the Whitfield family and blamed him for her disappearance. Their father declared that he'd brought her out in the woods and killed her, this being said, the port wiled up in fury. Like a lynching crowd, they stomped to the house with blazing torches and threw them to the house and barns. Most of the horses fled, but he could still remember the terrified whinnies as they died. Tinker ran to the house in desperation, his mother had been cleaning the house as this all occurred and he heard her horrified screams for them to stop. Tinker's efforts to save his mother were in vain, she died that night under the starry skies because of him—for something he hadn't even done. When he tried to run out the back door to save himself, a loose board fell on him as burnt his shoulder and forever maimed his eyes. Somehow, someone who'd found the lost Emilia, had raced to the house and dragged him from the debris. The man that saved him had been his master, he tended to the boy while Emilia's father was found guilty for murder and hung the next day.
Finally, when Tinker decided there was nothing left to learn from his master and nothing else to do in the small port, he left. He wanted to live the free life and forget about his past, adventuring was the only thing that came to mind.