Name: Jerome
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Indian, specifically Bengali.
Looks: 5'2" and 92 lbs, with black hair and brown
Augmentations: None that he knows of. His religion doesn't permit body mods of any kind.
Weapons: Manged to find a crowbar. Is generally pretty good at improvising weapons out of just about anything.
Personality: As a mute, communicating his thoughts and ideas has always been difficult. Having spent most of his life in a religious compound, most of his social interaction has been limited to commands and obeying them. He's very handy because of that. Skittish and reactive, he's just sort of trying to make his way in the world.
Background: Born on Sagittaron and raised in squalor, Jerome's childhood began in an orphanage and got worse from there. Growing up, the only mother figure he knew was a nun. Some of his fondest memories of helping her in the kitchen. The kindness of that orphanage was quite lucky for Jerome, though none ever came to adopt him.
At age 10, the orphanage closed it's doors. With nothing left in the way of donations to sustain it, and with the death of its owner, Jerome was left homeless. He lived the typical street urchin lifestyle until he was taken in by a cult. Life in the cult was the exact opposite of life at the orphanage, and Jerome was treated less like a person and more like a dog. There were feeding times, religious studies he could barely understand, disciplining, and a host of unpleasantness he'd rather forget.
At 15, he escaped the compound. He has since been on the run, stowing away on various vessels and joining up with various groups in whatever capacity he can. Anything to get away from Sagittaron.
Anything Special: Nothing much, he's not that special.
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