Crowbar app

[Crowbar / Droog]

Character Name: Crowbar
Appearance: Tall, tough and stocky. A rough, scarred face adorns a wide jaw with a tiny overbite, and a rough-n-tumble brow. His body, that of a cattle worker, muscular, fit, handsome yet no-nonsense. Tanned hide, riddled with gunshot scars coats these muscles. This is one mean wolverine, you son-of-a-bitch.
Age: 34
Affiliation: Underboss of the Felt
Powers: Natural leadership skills, Crowbar with the ability to destroy the temporal effects of any artifact.
Personality: A tough, angry, mean S.O.B., Crowbar may appear docile, kind, and quaint, with a southern touch, but don't let that fool you. Quick to anger, and rather jealous, Crowbar is dangerous, and smart. He's rather protective of Sn0wman (Whether or not this Rp contains Crowbar/Sn0man, that's how he feels), for no necessary reason other than he's old fashioned (And what's said below), and to some extent feels like she should be treated with care. But that said, he's no gentlemen; he'll call you 'friend' as he shoots at you, compliment your combat style as he lassos' you down, and all but mutters a one-liner as he slits your throat with a boot knife.
Biography: Once an honest rancher in Arizona, Crowbar had a wife and a son, which he loved dearly. Their life was simple, and lacked much contact with the outside world, so they had to rely on what they alone could produce. When the money inevitably started running out, however, Crowbar had almost nowhere to turn. A life of crime consumed him. He made connections, friends, families, but worst of all, he made enemies. When he found his wife and child slaughtered amidst the burning wreckage that was once a small farm house, he was filled with rage. He gathered a posse of those he'd grown to trust out of the crime ring, and marched upon his enemies position to the east. They outnumbered him 10 to 1, and would've won, if they had so much as one more. He led his friends, and as they fell, he climbed their corpses till the last of his allies drew breath no more. He spent his last bullet killing the only thug they had left to send at him. Now stranded, in the desert with no connections, no friends, no family, no enemies, and shot to all hell, Crowbar walked, empty, bleeding out, willing to die. After three days and three nights he started getting dizzy, seeing things that no man should see, anomalies drifting through the dunes of New Mexico. It was when he found traces of rubble, and man-made artefacts that he woke up, and looked around him. He lay in a rocky outcrop, non-earthly physics on display, rocks floating and strange scientific equipment drifting through the air like a metal tumbleweed. That's where he found it. It glowed on the ground, amidst the strange modern ruins, a crowbar. He grasped it. A strange lady appeared, who offered him sanction from the desolate Great basin sun, and radioactive anomalies that had plagued his conscious. Convinced it was some reincarnation of his long-dead wife, he followed her, crowbar in hand.
Paragraph Sample: Does the bio count?
Other:

[/blockquote][/blockquote] In case you haven't guessed yet, my Crowbar headcanon is that he's a cowboy. Expect slang, accents and gratuitous revolver use.

[Peregrine Mendicant]

Ahhh gr8 app<3