Name: Scott Krystian Owen
Age: 39
Birthday: September 3, 1976
Nationality: American
Gender: Male
Orientation: Bisexual, Panromantic
Known Languages: English, Russian
Current Employment: Owner of the bar Sparking Tinders
Previous Jobs: Worked on his town's police force for 12 years

Appearance:

Height: 6'1"
Weight: 209 lbs.
Hair Color: Dark brown
Eye Color: Hazel
Body Type: Endomoprh, Heavily Muscled, small layer of fat on top
Scars: Large slice going along left knee, gunshot wound on right shoulder, small slice through right eyebrow, bullet graze on heel of right palm
Physical Problems: Nerve damage in right arm/hand (Physical therapy has helped gain most movement back but it's still rough)
Tattoos: a dog print on his ass after a terrible night of drinking with college roommates, skull, gun, and rose tattoo on his left shoulder
Dominant Hand: Previously his right hand but he's now ambidextrous/favors the left

Personality:

Myers-Brigg: ISTJ
Alignment: Neutral Good
Positive Aspects (+): Honest and Direct, Strong-willed and Dutiful, Responsible, Calm and Practical, Enforce Order
Negative Apects (-): Stubborn, Insensitive, By the Book, Judgmental, Unreasonably blames himself

Favorites:

FOOD: Pizza
DRINK: Coffee (two cream, one sugar)
COLOR: Blue
BOOK GENRE: Historical
MOVIE GENRE: Science Fiction
MUSIC GENRE: Classic Rock
DOG OR CAT: Dog
NIGHT OR DAY: Day
FEAR OR LOVED: Loved
TOP OR BOTTOM: Top (though can be convinced otherwise)

Background:

Born to a loving mother and father in the middle of the day on September 3rd, Scott Krystian Owens was a part of the most important argument in his parents’ lifetime. What to name their child. It was the only argument that he had either been a part of or heard from his parents lips and he couldn’t comprehend a single thing. Thanks to his mother, he was born to the name his great-grandfather had. Thanks to his father, his middle name was his grandfathers, who died six months before. And the surname was from his mother’s side, something that wasn’t debated over for long.

His mother, Anna Owen, has been on the force ever since she finished training after getting her criminal justice degree. His father, Piotr Krystianovich, has been a carpenter for all of Scott’s life, though Piotr doesn’t much talk of his life. All Scott knows is that his father came from Russia when he was ten with his father, mother, and younger brother of age seven. His family was labeled as communist since they came over, even though they left just for that reason. Piotr did not argue much what to name his son, though Feliks was on his mind. But he did want to have Krystian in that name. As a reminder that he wouldn’t be there and they wouldn’t have that life if it weren’t for Piotr’s father.

Both of his parents were as supportive as any could be, and the only couple he’d seen that has stayed together for as long as they have. The epitome of a healthy relationship. Both of their efforts in raising him made Scott the man he is today, loving him and giving him what he wanted but enforcing rules and teaching him to be proper. He was brought up well-mannered and taught to be honest, to be helpful as well and respectful but only of those who deserve it. As he grew older, he knew that he wanted to follow in his mother’s footsteps. His father’s work was honest, but he wanted to protect and enforce.

During college, he let his inhibitions go a little. Though he was still the man his parents raised him to be, he partied a little harder than he thought he would. Days of studying led into wild nights, drinking and parties and one night that led him to have the tattoo he currently has right above his ass. Let’s just say that grain alcohol doesn’t help make bad decisions any better. Still his years went by and he was the third highest in his class. Had one girlfriend in the entirety of his years but they separated when she decided to move halfway across the country. He got his Criminal Justice degree just as his mother had and joined the force right after.

Twelve years he spent on his town’s police department. Everyone basically knew him already because of his mother, and he proved to be just as good a cop as she was. He made friends on the force, changed partners a good few times, and was one of the best officers they could ask for. That was until his twelfth year. A man had robbed a liquor store and Scott and his partner were on foot to pursue him. Though he knew the man had a gun, he was as careful as he could be. What he didn’t know was the man was trigger happy. And when they had him cornered, he shot when he thought Scott was reaching for his gun. The first bullet skimmed across the palm of his right hand. The second embedded itself in his right shoulder. The damage done to his right arm, even after physical therapy, was great enough to demote him to a desk job. He quit not long after and the woman he was with then broke their relationship off after he proposed.

He had saved enough money to buy space along the main street of his town and opened a bar there. He built his business up and has been doing very well for a good three years. Scott lives in a house with his Great Dane, Feliks, all by himself. He works four nights out of the week as the bartender in his bar. The other nights he spends either alone or drinking with his friends who are either still on the force or retired. There are times, however, when he is called in as a consultant to the police department. The chief knew how much his job had meant so she keeps him coming back when they can afford it. Though the injury ruined his career, he is overall happy with his life