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Name: Deckard Jackson

Gender: Male

Age: 18

Species: Human

Height: 6'2"

Weight: 190 lbs

Appearance: 
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Devil Fruit(if any): None

Weapons:
-Twin pistols: Deckard has a pair of customized six-shooters, built by himself with the help of his mentor. They are designed to be faster, more accurate, and have a longer range than the standard flintlock pistol one is likely to find with most pirates. They use Deckard's custom ammunition a cartridge style shot containing everything needed to fire without loading the barrel with black powder, wadding, shot, etc.
-The Messenger: Deckard's newest invention, still in a state of flux. A long ranged rifle with a magnifying lens, designed to shoot over distances unheard of for a flintlock rifle. It carries only a single shot, but has immense power behind it, and can be reloaded quickly due to the same cartridge style shots the pistols use. (Though these cartridges are of a higher caliber.)

Skills:
-Negotiation: Deckard is well versed in the schools of charm and charisma, having been taught from a young age that honey catches more flies than oil. Though he prefers to be transparent and not waste time, he does see the benefit of the occasional honeyed word to grease the wheels.
-Smithing: Due to his apprenticeship at the cities best blacksmith, Deckard has a basic understanding of forges and the tools used within
-Tinkering: Thanks to his fascination with moving parts and cause-and-effect, Deckard has taught himself how to tinker with gears and smaller tools.
-Photographic mind: Due to years of tinkering and taking things apart, Deckard has trained himself to memorize any device he is able to take apart. One he has his hands on a device, he is able to deconstruct it and rebuild it to the exact specifications as before, as well as improve on inferior designs if any exist.
-Shooting: Deckard has trained with firearms for years, and has begun using his own inventions on the ranges with great success.

Background: Hailing from the elite Jackson family of Westpike Island, Deckard grew up in what many would consider the lap of luxury. The only son to the island's Guildmaster, Elder Jackson, Deckard was expected from a young age to take over his fathers work in running the day-to-day business of the city. Through an endless monotony of classes and lectures, Deckard took solace in the few free moments he had a child, indulging in stories of adventurers and swashbuckling heroes. He took a particular liking to those heroes who carried guns and commanded battles from range, and by the time he was old enough to begin training in self-defense, he had decided to train as a Gunslinger. For a time, the routine worked well for the boy. Classes and study, lectures and lessons from his father, and training with experienced fighters and soldiers. Deckard taught himself how to take apart and rebuild each gun that was brought to him, well enough that he could do it in his sleep.

Once he was old enough, Deckard's father brought him to be apprenticed in the city, to learn a trade and learn firsthand how a business is run. Due to his interest in tinkering, the Elder Jackson apprenticed his son to Aiden, the cities Master Blacksmith. The pair hit it off immediately, with Deckard eager to learn how the forge worked and the process of creating tools and materials. Aiden and Deckard found even more of a like soul in each other when they discovered their shared interests in guns, with Aiden showing the young Jackson his own designs and ideas for improvements on the flintlock design. Over the next several years, Deckard spent more and more time at Aiden's forge as the pair worked on honing and refining the designs into something workable. Guildmaster Jackson however, was less than pleased with this development, as he felt his son was straying too far from the concept of learning how to govern the city, and finding himself entrenched in minutia. Ignoring his fathers demands, Deckard pressed on, eventually creating the first prototype of his pistols.

Then, tragedy struck. Aiden's forge was burned to the ground one night, leaving nothing behind but a smoking crater and evidence of several explosions and fast-burning fires. What few witnesses there were claimed they had seen Aiden experimenting with the black powder he kept around, and that the man must have left it too close to the forge. This explanation didn't sit right with Deckard, however. He had known Aiden for years, worked closely with the man. Though he did keep black power in the shop, Aiden knew not to let it near the forge itself. The both of them had witnessed firsthand how volatile the powder was. Deckard believed that there was no way Aiden could have been so stupid as to simply leave black powder where it could ignite. There was something deeper at play here. That thought began to consume Deckard, drive him even further into his work. Someone was trying to stop the work he and Aiden were doing, and that meant Deckard had to finish it, no matter how loudly his father yelled at him to let it go. Eventually however, the tensions came to a head, and Guildmaster Jackson told his son that he could have either his birthright, or his work.

Deckard packed up and left that night. He had saved enough from his time with Aiden to rent out a small room in a busy part of town, and there we could continue to tinker in peace, constantly improving and perfecting his designs, and piecing together a theory of who might have killed his friend...
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