PopeJawn

Born in a Carl's Jr bathroom, Jawn was raised on the streets of Oris, forced to steal and scam for scraps of fuzzy tofu nuggets and those protein chips that are actually made of fried chicken grease just to survive. He has been trained on all beam lasers since two years of age. As a teenager, he joined the Amarrian military, and worked his way up through the ranks, eventually joining Amarrian Intelligence. It was there he first learned to hide the needle marks on his calves by wearing really, really baggy khaki pants, the kind with the zipper pockets all over and that sit a bit too tight in the crotch. He also became fluent in cringe and annoying formal documentation during his time as a Navy Psyops intern.

Becoming fed up with the self-serving hypocrisy evident in the upper echelons of Amarrian theocracy, it was no surprise he would eventually join the Blood Raiders, after stealing all the Church's skill injectors to train into Biting Irony V and Insipid Spam V. He then began working closely with members of the Blood Raider Children's Orphanage acquisition team, having since then participated in over 9000 campaigns against high sec eco-terrorists, high-capacity smugglers in Uedama, and personally saving an infant space-worm from the belly of a burning Hulk. For this act alone, he was raised on high to a papal position by Omir himself during his time in Delve. He is also a veteran of B2 and the second Great Crusade.

Becoming bored with nullsec's cowardly blue donut enjoyers, he has moved on to new horizons, and now snarling and starry eyed, he does his utmostest bestest to make space krabs do a big poopoo in their pantie wanties, and kill space boredom anywhere he finds it.

As a Cancer, he thoroughly enjoys weapon disruptors and enjoys long deep talks late into the night. He's not looking for a girlfriend or anything though, ew.