[h2] Johnathon ‘Jack’ Walker[/h2]

[img]https://67.media.tumblr.com/53d543a44b3f1fdfe57b30a998b578e0/tumblr_mjkwh867hv1qbkl1no1_250.gif[/img]

[i]Nicknames:[/i] Jack to his friends, Walker to most of the respectable citizens of Boca Diablo

[i]Gender:[/i] Male 

[i]Age:[/i] 34

[i]Sexuality:[/i] Heterosexual

[i]Likes:[/i] 
- Cars, motorbikes, anything that involves mechanics and going fast really.
- Whiskey, especially bourbon.
- NASCAR, demolition derbies, Monster truck racing
- Hard Rock music, think Led Zeppelin, The Who, Deep Purple, Aerosmith, AC/DC,  Van Halen etc
- Dogs, Jack used to have a German Sheppard named Al
- Time to himself 

[i]Dislikes:[/i] 
- Agricultural work, or any form of work that isn’t on mechanics
- Law Enforcement, the Sherriff’s department continually suspicions rub Jack the wrong way
- Polite society and small talk
- People who think they’re better than him
- People prying into his business


[hider=Appearance]
[i]Appearance:[/i]  Jack is tall man, standing over 6’1” when he’s not in boots. He’s quite rangy in his build, but his well enough muscled not seem insubstantial, hard work has kept him fit and he is yet to begin softening into middle age. His dirty blonde hair is normally pushed back off of his somewhat angular face. Around its lower half he is normally wearing several days’ worth of stumble and a cigarette can often be found dangling from the corner of his mouth. He has distinctive tattoo on his right forearm of a snake circling its away around a dagger.

Clothing wise Jack prefers muted tones, leather and denim make up a large part of his wardrobe both in and out of work. Underneath or when it is too hot he favours faded plaid shirts and vest tops. On his left hand he is large ornate silver ring with a garnet set into the centre. 

[img]http://waytofamous.com/images/callum-keith-rennie-01.jpg[/img]

[img]http://home.hiwaay.net/~warydbom/duesouth/images/callum_keith_rennie01.jpg[/img]
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[hider=Personality]
[i]Personality:[/i] Jack is a somewhat reserved man. He seems very hostile on the surface things but that’s mainly a front due to his reputation in town. In reality he’s quite a relaxed person with a dry sense of humour coupled with a healthy dose of cynicism. There’s nothing more that he likes then to take time off, have a drink, and shoot the breeze the regulars that prop up the bar out at the Roadhouse. However, he does have a temper on him, one which has cooled over the years, but can be still be woken if the right buttons are pushed. 

He doesn’t talk about himself much, or appreciate people trying to pry into his life. When he wants he can be charming in a roguish sort of way, and when he first came back to the town after his self-imposed exile, he was quite a ladies man for a few years.  That quietened down when the women around these parts learned more of him and his ways. He likes the chase, but doesn’t do well with commitment. Despite his seeming transition to honest labourer, there’s still something secretive and slightly shady about Jack. But he gives respect if someone’s willing to give it back, and there are a fair few people in town who do appreciate his presence.

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[hider=Biography]
[i]Biography:[/i] The Walker families are one of the old families of Boca Diabola, but one of those that never really prospered. There were Walkers in that second wave of settlers that came in 1765 after the first ill-fated lost expedition. But most of branches of the family have either died out or moved away. Used to be they owned a good chunk of land in around the Keep, but bad harvests and personal tragedies have seen the families land has shrunk down to a simple small holding on the very eastern edge of Cooper Keep. Not even a proper farm, it comprises of a few acres of scrubland, woods and swamp with a rundown cabin with a rickety old barn and twenty rusting cars sat on top. Jack Walker is the last custodian of the Walker property. 

It was the cabin that Jack grew up in, built by his grandfather, after his great grandfather was forced to sell off their old farm. His upbringing was fairly hard, his father, James Walker, was a man left embittered after seeing his fortunes sunk low. The small holding was a complete and utter failure and his father ended up working as an agricultural worker for other landowners, an utter humiliation for such a proud man. 

They had strained relationship, Jack grew up never knowing the better times for his family, he never had the same notions about their respectability or their heritage. He made friends with other kids from the lower echelons of the town’s community. When his father tried to impress on him the impropriety of the company he was keeping, it just drove more a wedge between them and encouraged Jack to act out. 

During his youth he quite the town hoodlum, getting into a helluva lot of fights and scuffles, most of which he ended up winning. He used to drink underage in the old roadhouse, and fell in with an even worse crowd than the other farm hand kids. He slung dope for a while and did worse, until he got caught trying to commit burglary on a house on the good side of town. He managed to get off light and escape charges. But none the less, his life changed that year when he was called up in the draft of ‘69 to go to Vietnam. Jack never saw much action while he was out there, the horrors of Tet offensive were already over, and later the peace held mostly until the complete withdrawal of American forces in ’73. But what did see wasn’t pretty, around 15% of G.I.s were on smack around that time, and Jack was one of them. He kicked the habit as part of the Golden Flow program (no ride home until you pass a urine test) but that and the war changed him.

When he came back to the states and was discharged he couldn’t stand go back to Boca Diabola, so he spent the next five years travelling around the west on the back of a motorbike. He lived in San Francisco for a while, just long enough watch the demise of the hippy dream before he headed back south. A few years in Dallas and then onto Atlanta, it was in ’78 that he heard his father was head. 

He thought he was coming back for the funeral, but somehow he never left. The property fell to him since his mother hadn’t been around since he was little, and his only sibling (a younger sister) was starting a new life in L.A. last time he heard from her.

Jack’s never been in the same level of trouble that he was as a kid, although in small towns people have long memories, and there are rumours. He works odd jobs most of time, either agricultural work, or as a mechanic, one of the few things he is genuinely considered to be good at. He’s been quiet, but folks are still somewhat wary of him, and he isn’t particularly well liked in the town.
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[i]Other:[/i] 
Jack has a wide array of half junked, half built cars and motorcycles on his property. Right now he is driving or working on:
- 1976 Dodge Warlock truck, dark green, his main day to day vehicle
- Harley Davidson FX Super Glide 
- 1953 Buick Roadmaster, his main project car, currently without engine