Jett

[Jett Tsar]

Jett Chayton Tsar

Mutant Name: None

Age: 19

Height: 5'11''

Eye Color: Black-brown

Physical Appearance: Jett stands at a relatively short height for a nineteen-year-old, at 5'11. His past lifestyle is part of why he’s irregularly skinny, weighing only about 160 pounds. He has a slight feminine build; slim and lanky with a small waist and tot buttocks. The manliest attributes he has are his square shoulders, although they’re sharp, and his square jaw line, although his chin’s a bit pointy. Jett’s skin is a tad darker than your regular male Caucasian, although he’s still obviously a “white boy”. Dark chocolaty brown hair falls in combed waves to his jaw, which he likes to keep meticulously groomed.

He’s got creepily smooth skin for a guy with little to no scars which he keeps well shaven on his face because he feels whiskers are unbecoming. Long, nimble fingers render deft hands, and long skinny legs on medium proportioned feet suggest he walk instead of run. Jett’s eyes appear dark as obsidian, possessing that uncanny power that makes whoever he’s looking like feel as though he sees into their soul, which is shudder-worth intimidating except for the fact that they have a sparkle of liveliness that his personality gives them. They are truly a deep brown, however you’d have to turn his head to the light to see that and the man has no intention of looking into the sun.

Jett wears jeans and t-shirts, although collared shirts are more preferable but usually not appropriate for situations he finds himself in. Shoes and accessories don’t matter much. Jett focuses all on the face.


Celebrity Face Claim: Ben Barnes

Strengths:

• Physically fit
  
• Clever
  
• Depth/Length determination
  
• Winning favor

Weaknesses:

• Short attention span
  
• Waning interest
  
• Bad at keeping secrets
  
• Procrastinator
  
• Blood
  
• Slightly immature
  
• Adapting
  

Random Abilities:

• Cheering people up
  
• Wooing women
  
• On-the-spot poems
  
• Judging characters
  
• Dancing
  
• Parkour (Click to watch!)
  

Mutation: Jett's blood is the greatest in the world. Literally. Think of how juicy and sweet and desired umbilical cord blood is, consider why, multiply that by a billion and you have Jett's.

Basically, his blood is a cure-all. An elixir, you might say. Whatever his blood touches--save himself--returns to its original, perfect state. A wound touched with his blood would heal. A bath of his blood would make the smoothest skin. A drink of his blood might even cure cellular abnormalities. Even mutations.

A set back to this is, nobody knows it! All that is known is that his cells are mutated. Additionally, effects of his blood do not work on him whatsoever. They do, however, apply to both humans and mutants.

On the contrary, Jett is even more susceptible to outbreaks and disease.

History: Jett Chayton Tsar, son of Alex and Media Tsar, was born in the plains of South Africa. Yes, this makes him a white African! In his area everyone's first language was English, spoken with an accent similar to an Australian's. The population around him was waning because of a recent outbreak of malaria. His survival had been unlikely.

Many claim it was love that pulled the 4 lb baby through the night and on to five years of a sickly childhood. The boy was six years old before he was able to play with the other kids his age, and even then the elders tended to keep a close eye on him. Unbeknown to him at the time, the small village in which his family lived was infested with mutants. His own mother was a mutant--a fact he would never discover.

Life was easy once his bones began to grow sturdy and his muscles tightened with strength. Jett became agile and fast, using that combined with his good eye to defeat daring tasks. Even when he hit puberty, nothing about him seemed abnormal. The same couldn't be said for the others. One night he stumbled upon a meeting of the parents in which three of his fellow school mates were involved. Before his eyes he witnessed things he'd never dreamed of.

It was then that Jett decided there was more out there than what was seen on the surface. He'd heard of America in all it's splendor and glory, and as a sixteen year old rebel, he set his sights on reaching the Land of the Free in order to conquer the task of success in a new land. He stuffed his nose into his books and began to spend all his time studying, the determined little buggar. Sure enough it paid off.

Even with their poor South African school, Jett harnessed a scholarship to attend a college in Florida. The town's savings were pulled out of a little clay jar and compiled in order to pay for the flight to his future. The hopeful smiles and waves and wishes of good luck from his people went beyond merely attending a school in a new world. They had faith that Jett, their little prize, would return one day and bring them the future of their people with him.

What awaited him across the ocean wasn't as sunny as he'd imagined. Fitting into the buzz of the fast-paced America proved harder than he'd originally assumed. after only two days in his new home he was taken by the men in black. Perhaps for the best.

Report of Mutant Capture:

Jett exhaled loudly as he rolled his head on his neck, eyes gently lidded and the hands in his laps folded leisurely. The tunnel whistled closely past the shaded windows and the kart shifted from front to back with a rhythmic thumping against its tracks.

Fortunate for him, it wasn't every day that the subway was so uninhabited. Usually the stiff-necked collared bimbos would be streaming in and out at every stop, chattering away on cell phones and poking around at each other with their bird eyes. Everyone spoke so slowly in this country. Jett often wondered how many flies could enter into one of their mouth's in the span of time it took them to say hello.

Very much unlike his home, he remembered, pressing his fingers to his ribs, enjoying the nostalgic pain. A scene of shrubbery and tin roofed huts made of manure and small children clad in tattered and stained clothing came to mind. Jett glanced down at his current snazzy dress which consisted of sharp black jeans and a white collared shirt. He would never have worn something like this back at home.

Getting used to the fact that life was going to be different from now on was something the new adult had to get used to. No one had forced him into leaving all he knew to embark on a journey towards better chances at success. He'd done it all on his own.

The train screeched to a shuddering halt as Jett's thoughts lulled him into a head-lolling slumber. He was vaguely aware of the doors exhaling open and the clatter of metal boots against the metal floor. Even when a sharp pain pierced his side, he was only aware of the fact that he was getting even more sleepy.

[Mara Ackart]