About

:: 6'0" thin ropey muscles wind up his tan lengthy arm disappearing underneath his worn dark duster. Two ancient pistols are slung low on his hips -- the sandalwood grips of the revolvers have been worn smooth over their lifespan. The ivory handled buck knife sheaths at the small of his back. The rest of his supplies he carries in a worn canvas bag that ties at the top. Calm unyielding pale blue eyes pierce out from under his dusty brown hair cascading his thin, gaunt face. His demeanor is much like his eyes; calm, contemplative, unwavering and willing do what needs to be done to insure his own.

:: Dean was born to be exactly what he is, a Gunslinger. He knew little of his father but was trained by one of the harshest, meanest mother f**kers he ever killed. Scars riddle his body hidden by his clothing -- whip lashes criss cross his back and fighting scars are too numerous to count. Dean traveled much through his youth after earning his guns from his master, wandering the world for himself. He now serves as a hired gun -- doing whatever he needs to bring in the coin.