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Name: Ambrose "Jen" Jennings
Age: 26
Gender: Male

Appearance: Ambrose stands a few inches short of six feet. He's solidly built, about on par with the average cowhand. He's brown-skinned, on the lighter side of the spectrum, and he wears his hair in a wild mane of thick brown curls crammed under a once cream-colored felt hat. His shoulder is scarred with a scattering of buckshot, black and twisted, the incident of which has rendered his left arm weaker than his right. One scar cuts through the side of his nostril, trailing upwards in a thin, dark line, while another splits away from the right corner of his lip, harder to see amid a scruffy brown moustache.

His eyes are dark brown and slope slightly downwards at the edges, with a sleepy, effortless sort of calm to them. It takes a whole lot to wipe that peaceful smile from his face. A stubborn southern ring is still occasionally evident in the way he speaks, but he has purposefully abandoned most of the mannerisms acquired during childhood minus his touch for thieving and animals.

Personality: Ambrose is generally an easy going, soft-hearted, optimistic sort of soul. He doesn't drink or smoke, and most people have never seen him enraged or even slightly annoyed. Almost nothing seems to bother or upset him; he very much comes across as being "at peace" with the world. This oblivious attitude borders on naive, even gullible. While he's pretty simple on the surface, he's also surprisingly literate, and often peruses whatever books of poetry and literature he can find, along with the dusty old bible he always carries.

He's not one to brag about criminal exploits, and he's so mild mannered that it can be hard to see how he's wound up on the wrong side of the law. As if to drive this stark separation home, he rarely speaks in depth about his life prior to moving out west. If mentioned, there's a flicker of sadness, guilt, and maybe something else there, too. Despite his sweet and unassuming nature, his penchant for thieving and arson means that he's not especially trustworthy. He's rather like a stray puppy in this regard, and while it's easy to take a shine to his easygoing and sanguine attitude, keeping him around for too long often eventually leads to regret. His saving grace is his unflappable optimism and genuine love of life, which can make it hard for others to stay angry.

His one vice is his great love of gambling. While he makes something of a half-assed effort to avoid the draw of the cards, he has a hard time turning down an opportunity should it present itself. In this regard, he can become highly competitive and reckless, and has gotten into trouble on multiple occasions by digging himself into increasingly massive pits of debt.

Likes: Good food, of course! He has no great love of alcohol, but he can appreciate all things hot and homemade. He enjoys the company of others, even going so far as to engage with total strangers over an exchange of a bit of grub, music, and gossip.

Dislikes: While he believes that everything has a time and a place, he's not one to engage in unnecessary acts of violence. That being said, however, he does have a fairly liberal definition of "unnecessary". He has experienced periods of solo traveling, but he doesn't like it, and he has a strong need to be around other people. Being alone is tortuous, along with small, confined spaces. He's well aware of the monsters raised by alcohol and has been left incredibly gun shy and critical in this regard, but he generally tolerates drinking in his presence with his usual blissful ignorance so long as it doesn't directly address him.

Other: To Ambrose, nothing is permanent. The only things he considers constants are his name, the clothes on his back, and the bible he carries. Those are the only belongings that can't be gambled away due to their lack of value. And yes, he's tried. Basically everything else is exchangeable.