Name: Vincent Miles Locke
Gender: Male
Age: 32
Occupation: I made my living bartending, but I know alot about botany (hops, barley, beer ingredients, grapes) and minerals as well. Due to this combination of chemistry, botany and geology, apparently now I'm the Chief Ballistics Expert/Engineer. Pretty good thing, too...I got some leftover fireworks that I made myself! I got this one called the homewrecker, ya see, and it'll...Well, suffice to say: it goes 'boom'. Alot.

Physical Description: Tall. Very tall. Tallest by about 3 inches off the next tallest person on the ship. I'm slightly stocky, but if I flex you'll be thinkin I was some wrestler. Large feet and hands, as well (helps hold the beer. feet...helps with balance). Brown eyes and hair, eye shade can shift from time to time, depending on lighting. Hair's more of a darker brown...If I'd ever let it grow out. I like my head clean-shaven...Unlike my chin, where there's usually an inch or two of hair going from the upper lip and straight down to my chin. That never gets too long, though. I make sure to keep it in line.
Personality: I love to help people out, be a peacemaker, etc, etc. People get drunk around me, they tell me things they aren't proud of, and I keep their secrets. After all, they're payin customers c: I don't mind gettin my hands dirty in a fight if I have to, though. Those barstools cost money to replace! No matter how much fun they are to throw! I like sleeping in, too. Everyone says it's because I always have hangovers...But I swear to ya, my toilet hasn't seen my chin in almost 7 years! I also have a soft spot fer dogs...Border collies especially c:
History: Iwas raised like any other kid in London...Went to school, got an education, raised a pet, moved outta my mum's house...And suprisingly enough [to me mum, anyway], I first started makin me livin sellin fireworks on tha side o' the road! People really liked mine, apparently, and business was so good I was able to open up me own bar!

Eventually I got meself a dog, too...a border collie...Shirley, her name was. Wierdest thing, too...This big lab was givin away all these crazy pets; monkeys, lemurs, cats, dogs, guinea pigs, rats...But all of em looked to be the same color, right down the eyes. It was downright creepy if ya ask me...And they all looked at the same person, too! If one looked at someone else, they ALL looked at the same person. But I couldn't handle much more than a dog...So I snagged meself Shirley, and she took right to me. It was like she needed someone to be with too, ya know? I think she was kinda lonely after bein in that lab with all those animals for so long...

Anyways, she was the best dog you'd ever meet. All the bar patrons loved her...And if anyone ever puked on her, they gave her a bath as soon as they remembered! Not because I told em to, either. They just felt that bad. It was almost like she understood what I was sayin to her sometimes...I told her to sit, she sat. Told her to lie down, she did. Roll over, play dead, everythin! She always knew right when I needed a mate to be with (and fer all you americans out there, a mate is a friend! not THAT!!)...I swear, sometimes it was like she was psychic! But a few days before the bar shut down she died. So I took just a little bit of her fur...Not much, mind you...And I have it taped to the back cover of me journal, right next to her picture. God I miss that dog...

Life was good at me bar after that...not nearly as good without Shirley, mind you; and sure, the occasional fight broke out, but most of the time it was over whether or not I would use a certain fireworks display that night. The patrons loved that, seein all the explosions in the sky...I've been called down to the police station more than a few times, but they've all been to my bar and know me well enough ta know I'm no harm. And after Shirley died, they hardly ever called me in on anything!

However, due to some safety hazards or some other bull around the building next to mine, I had to pack up and move out. I felt kinda silly, walkin around with a bunch of suitcases full of beer and fireworks for the few days I was outta work, but hey! When I signed on for the Peregrine, they let me bring my stuff! Said it would help with the morale of the men. Now if only I could catch the rats who've been stealin my stash when I'm not lookin! D<

Particular Skills: I can juggle, I can do the Morrison's Jig (after the first twenty times the patrons did it I picked it up on my own), I can play a bit of the flute, though alot of good THAT does me. I have some pretty good reflexes...Mainly from training from all the accidental spills in my bar. You'd be surprised how much those beer mugs cost! I can also make one mean fireworks display >D
Other Stuff: Does the fact that I'm also a pyromaniac with an @$$load of flammable liquids count for anything? >D Now for the last time, ASK BEFORE YOU TAKE MY WHISKEY AND BEER!! Flaming juggledance with beerbottles, anyone? *coughcoughnapalm*

Also i know enough about plants and what minerals are needed for them to survive, as well as how to tell if the soil is good.

(As to how I got my alchohol and glass bottles to survive the crash-LOTS and LOTS of custom-made foam. plus after the first few bottles broke the extra liquid helped cushion the remaining bottles C: )