While he was adopted early in life, he was also told of this process so as to be prepared to counter any attacks on his person as a result of his somewhat factory-assembled family unit. Turns out, no one really gave a shit. But the knowledge that he was "given up" by his biological mother gave him an unique perspective. He holds no allegiance to any one race, religion, nationality, or professional sports team. As he has no idea what his lineage could be, he tries to see beyond the blind tradition of hate, judging others solely on their actions and not the pigment of their skin or which country their forefathers cast their seed.

He's dropped out of college twice so far; once to die and once to live, although he may yet return.

Chances are he's not the smartest, wittiest, or most talented person you'll ever come across in your life, but the combination of these and other (both complimentary and offensive) traits within him can be considered singular to him.

He's a mass of contradiction. While he'd like to consider himself a free spirit, a kind of 60's hippie holdout, he has spent over a decade working within the individual-crushing constraints of corporate America. He writes, but has very little patience for reading other people's work. Conversely, friends and relatives frequently commission his artwork, but he personally feels he has no real gift for design.

Most nights, before struggling with sleep as he's done the majority of his life, he hopes to dream of flying. Most mornings he wakes up disappointed.

He's married, and becomes more grateful and surprised each day that his mate continues to tolerate him.

He's ambidextrous.

If you should run into this suspect in the streets: He'll trade you a story for a cigarette. It's a fair trade, as both are proven to take time off your lifespan.