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Server time (UTC): 2019-11-14, 12:39
Jonathon Bentley
Character information
  1. Alias
    Jon
  2. Mental
    Paranoid
  3. Morale
    Low
  4. Date of birth
    1997-01-12 (22 years old)
  5. Place of birth
    Blackpool, England
  6. Nationality
    British
  7. Ethnicity
    White
  8. Languages
    English
  9. Family
    Orphaned - however developed a brother like bond with a younger boy in his 'placement' home - called Mitch Lonridge
  10. Religion
    Stern Atheist

Description

  1. Height
    176 cm
  2. Weight
    80 kg
  3. Build
    Well built - fairly stocky frame
  4. Hair
    Brown
  5. Eyes
    Dark brown
  6. Features
    His right eye/eyebrown have a fairly faded slash scar across it them

    Multiple whip/belt laceration scars on his back.
  7. Equipment
    Due to being unable to control recoil of fully automatic rifles, Jonathon will rarely ever use anything other than pistols and hunting rifles.
  8. Occupation
    Childhood thief, Dealer

Background

(W.I.P)

'Jon' was born in the north-west of England. The town of Blackpool, to be specific. The seaside 'resort' as described in various leaflets and wiki pages set a wonderfully misleading picture of the town's true motives - however Jonathon's family was the poster family of all things fucked up. His mother, Janette Richardson became a drug overdosed, un-named corpse in the morgue only months after giving birth. And his father, well, presumably followed a similar fate - however swiftly decided to fuck off 8 months prior when even the hint of pregnancy was being shown.

After his mothers death - his maternal grandparents decided to place the child in the first child 'dumping ground' they could find - being the Matterson's Secure Children's Home. This is where Jonathon spent his formative years - within the cold grasps of the 'system' and forever knowing he wasn't normal. And will never have family, or friends that don't just disappear a month or two later. He decided to just internalise all his emotions - not blinking twice when months went by without even being considered by foster families. Which was the best call... As he was never adopted.

His 16th birthday came and went, with the only present being a swift eviction from the orphanage - this was the beginning of his mental decline. Immediately Jonathon knew he was alone - alone in the crippling temperature of a classic British winter. He spent days sleeping under train overpasses - any shelter from rain/snow. Slowly going through all the clothes he left the care home with - having to leave them when they eventually got wet, then turned too solid to use for anything. It didn't take long before the easiest and only option would be to 'repossess' peoples items, however possible. This started with going into Laundromats and finding winter clothes - then slowly progressed into checking car and house doors - gaining entrance and swiping whatever claimed the highest price in local dilapidated pawn shops. He lived from petty theft to petty theft until he was 18 - when he started targeting individuals, primarily on weekend nights due to the 'thriving' nightlife in his Town. Due to this - people were out, drunk and with money on their person. It became an easy lifestyle - never getting caught due to the victim's descriptions being... less than reliable. Jonathon, at this time of his life, only had a singular remaining friend. A boy he shared his room in the orphanage with - named Mitch. Mitch, being three years junior to Jon followed his every move in hopes of impressing. This however became more and more dangerous when they started trying to 'perfect' snatch and grab robberies together.

In March of 2015 the two teenagers tried to jump an individual at an ATM point in the centre of town. The man, who was significantly less intoxicated than anticipated grabbed his keys from his pocket in the struggle, and slashed Jonathon in the face/right eye with it. He then slashed frantically at Mitch - who was reaching into the man's jacket pockets to try and find a wallet. Jonathon, with an unhealthy cocktail of adrenaline, anger and fear threw the man onto the ground - and began stomping on the back of his head. The man landed close to the curb - and the repeated kicks not only killed him, but broke the mans neck. Jonathon kept going, until there was almost no resistance in the man's neck, tears filling his blood coated eye. 

After the haze of red calmed and Jon was able to look around - he was a collection of drunk party goers gathered around - watching. Mitch had already fled and Jonathon was alone - standing atop a dead body, his foot still crushing the neck. He then fled.

-On the Run, and the future-

Jonathon made his way back to his small apartment - quickly calling his old house-mate (who taught him how to hot-wire / scrap certain vehicles) and pleaded for help. This man, Valery (Валерий) offered Jonathon an ultimatum. He does a 'few' jobs in and around Russia for him, and he will be a free man in a different country. With no-where else to go, Jon agrees. He takes nothing but the clothes on his back, and the wallet of the man he murdered - pays for a taxi and meets Valery at a large private piece of land in which a small group of Russian's ushered him onto a plane and from England - Nizhny, Russia. Jon did various jobs, almost all of which involving smuggling/delivering narcotics such as cocaine and methamphetamine to 'clients'. Then from Nizhny to Sochi. In Sochi - Jonathon's job became to stand inside a cargo container filled with drugs - and 'protect' the products goin back and fourth into Turkey. During one of these trips - an 'infection' claimed the lives of the crew onboard the ship - causing the ship to slip off it's intended path and careen into the rocky shores of Chernarus. As the ship ran aground, the containers snapped from their holdings, sliding some off the ship and wedging others underwater. Luckily - Jonathon pried open the container he was inside of, and descended the wreckage of the ship. The only people he could see were various ship crew with inhuman injuries - staggering around the ship.

He set out, alone with a backpack full of cocaine and a small russian pistol.


3 Comments


sorry sometimes i should keep them thought to me self he he... *thinks to self about the cute boy*

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