Caernarvon Royce [Fin]

He came into town like dust in the breeze: just another lone wanderer from out of town looking to make lemonade out of the lemons life had so bitterly handed him. Before that, though, Caernarvon was a smooth talking, thrill seeking, cigarette smoking mobster through and through, working as one of the top dogs in some of Remnants seedier alleys. He did what made him happy and little else, but then, by still unclear means, he turned his life around and became what some of the more generous folks would call a 'hero'. He had taken a liking to helping people fight Grimm, constantly honing his abilities and his shot in order to combat them more efficiently, and with less casualties. Before even that, Caern took to his father for guidance in life. From him he learned how to shoot, to move, to survive. Unbeknownst to his father, however, was Caernarvone's secret life of crime and bloodshed that he was more or less forced into to keep alive. To put food on the table.

Because of his rough life, Caern likes focusing on the future and avoids bringing back his past unless necessary. While it isn't really a hot topic with him, he would much rather dodge the subject altogether in a conversation. His ambitions still end in protecting his fellow man and gaining obscene amounts of wealth and power, but his methods have indisputably changed, be that for better or worse. The most pressing thing in his life at the moment is his old ties with the mob and his thoughts towards killing. Towards murder. Something in his mind just can't let go of those bygone days. The past is catching up.

In the end, the retired gangster ended up at the most logical place to hone his fighting spirit: Syne academy. Unfortunately, he was a little late to the party, judging by his age. Like that ever stopped him, though.    

Caernarvon removed another cigarette from his coat pocket and lodged it between his lips, eyes scanning the long amber lights on the cities wet cobbles. As he walked he pondered why he even touched smokes in the first place. After all, they seemed to only remind him of days long gone. Days when he killed half for sport.

He grunted and flipped open his lighter, not really in the mood for questioning his life decisions. These streets always calmed him down and made him ponder other matters. The future was what was important, anyways. His eyes crept upwards and there it was: Syne Academy. He hoped it at least wouldn't disappoint him. What did disappoint him was the curfew in place that would limit these strolls once he applied.

Here went nothing.