- Joined
- Apr 21, 2017
- Messages
- 580
- Reaction score
- 415
Fenix Morgan
FACTION: Indie
RANK: N/A
SPECIES: Human
HOMEWORLD: Corellia
HAIR COLOR: Dark Brown
AGE: 28
HEIGHT: 6'0
WEIGHT: 204 LBS
[tabs][/tabs]
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Fenix, was not a model child. Predictably, neither were his parents. They each had their own vices, his father ran a dingy cantina somewhere in Coronet City, drinking more of his stock than most of his customers. His mother, smoked anything she could get her hands on. Cigarra's, even Death Sticks, which quickly killed her. What little Fenix remembers about his mother consist mainly of smells, that of smoke and drugs. His father tried his best to be an actual father, though his definition of fatherhood was a little loose. The moments of lucidity in between bouts of drinking were times for some advice. "Don't be like me." His father would say, before getting his hands on another bottle of booze and resuming his drunken, belligerent rages.
A few years after his mothers death, Fenix's father was caught between a Hutt enforcement team and some local Corellian crime family, leaving him dead in a gutter and Fenix an orphan. It wasn't too big of a change, Fenix had been on his own for a while, whether his father was present or not. Fenix grew up brawling for credits. Back alley fights were good money, the bare knuckle brawling provided enough cash to at least pay for a small apartment, and feed the smoking habit Fenix blamed his mother for.
A few police crackdowns later and Fenix was behind bars, he was barely sixteen. He spent a few days in lockup, where he was spotted by the police chief, who took some kind of pity on the kid who was clearly on a fast track to the criminal life. The chief's name was Marcus Harding, and he was the first and only real mentor Fenix ever had. Harding sat him down and laid it all out, Fenix would be let off with a warning if he came back to talk with Harding. It was that or a few months in a juvenile correctional facility, so the choice was obvious. At first Fenix was belligerent, often barely speaking or posturing in an attempt to find the boundaries the chief had set. In truth, Fenix was scared, he didn't know what was going to happen and his only real defence was to act tough. Harding wasn't having any of it, while a generally kind man, he had powerful voice, and it was brought to full bear on Fenix. The first time this happened Fenix walked out almost immediately, but kept coming back as per his agreement with the chief, and secretly because he knew that Harding was the only person who had ever tried to help him.
Their relationship grew until Harding had become a father figure to Fenix, and much like that of a son for Harding. Though it was all left unspoken of course. Harding convinced Fenix to become a cop and to work for him, and pulled a few strings to send him to one of the best police academies Corellia could offer. Almost stereotypically, Harding was shot and killed a week from his retirement, there were no witnesses and his body was found at the end of a sewage pipe. Honouring the man he considered a friend, Fenix completed his training, even going above and beyond to become a detective. His first case was to solve the murder of his former mentor.
This of course turned out to be an almost impossible task, and its a case he is still working on to this day, and one he thinks he will never solve, causing him know end of frustration and guilt. -
In a few words, Fenix is cynical, angry and loyal. If you were lucky enough to be one of the few people to ever wade through the ocean of his emotional ineptitude, you would find someone who thinks of you before thinking of himself. When it comes to life or death, he chooses you over himself, there wouldn't be any hesitation if he was forced to make that choice. He shoves down most of his emotions into a place he doesn't allow himself access, making his general demeanour tense and sarcastic. Often he will say the wrong thing at the wrong time, inciting a confrontation that rarely ever has any serious reason. However, he genuinely cares about other people, and uses his own life experiences to sympathise and help people going through problems. Almost contrasting this is an adherence to the law of Corellia specifically that belies what most would expect of him, but that doesn't mean he's afraid to bend the rules to make sure a murderer ends up in the dirt.
His addictive personality doesn't help matters, he smokes cigarettes almost hourly. He has at least the self awareness to recognise that fact, and he has rarely touched alcohol, afraid he would end up like his father. When it comes to his smoking he started when he was younger and dumber, and can't stop. Like most addicts he doesn't even really want to stop.
Lacking anything resembling a social life beyond a very select group of people, he spends the majority of his time working on whatever case he is currently assigned too. Thankfully, he seems to actually enjoy his job. When working, he is focused, calculating and relatively lively. -
As a man, Fenix is regular. He is no card game master, though he does have a certain advantage due to his chosen occupation. He won't be the man you go too when you need your plumbing fixed or your speeder repaired. While he could fix his own gear, he isn't a professional by any stretch, lack of education as a child saw to that.
However, there are a few things he is good at. He excels at his work, while still learning and creating a reputation for himself, his dedication to the job is almost second to none. Not only that, due to the quality police training he received, he isn't too shabby with a blaster either. He can take a punch as well, his younger years taught him how, and his job forced him too. Dealing back the damage given was never really a problem, but the lack of professional training leaves him at the same level as most Cartel toughs.
He is also, truly patient. He never seems to rush a problem, often taking days to consider a problem that others would write off. Along with that, he doesn't mind staying up all night if his job needs to be done, he never seems to get tired, rarely even sick.
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