Pecos Moss

Pecos Moss, known by many just by his surname, is a former graduate of Beacon Academy and Hunter-turned-Mercenary who had found himself under the employ of Neil Huong, acting as part of his network of criminals.

Appearance
Standing at five feet nine inches and weighting two-hundred and ten pounds, Pecos Moss's time after graduation had not been kind to the youthful man he had been. What once was skin like porcelain had been baked by the merciless sun into a darker brown, deep lines of sorrow and forgotten laughter wrinkle his face, denoting the seemingly perpetual scowl he holds. His greenish brown hair has gone uncut for some time, the shaggy overgrowth being not quite long enough reach past his shoulders, but noticeable as unkempt regardless. This also applies to his facial hair, which has grown out to an ample-sized beard.

His usual attire consists of a black dress shirt covered by a yellow poncho, striped green dress pants, and black work-boots. Underneath the poncho he tends to keep his gun-holster strapped across his right arm, and it's rare to find him without his cowboy hat trying to contain his mess of hair. On occasion, he keeps a black bandanna around his neck to help hide his identity when on a job.

Personality
Pecos is a broken man, it's clear from a first impression that there was once a burning sense of pride to the way he held himself, knowing full well when to be polite and respectful, but that's quickly drowned out by his soft-spoken- almost cowed reactions and mannerisms. While never truly a stoic man, he tends not to be the instigator of conversations or interactions, and keeps to himself when his presence isn't needed. There are few topics that manage to bring him out of his shell, but when you get him talking, he becomes a little more animated and bright, and could even crack a joke or two if the mood permits. He's very fond of weaponry and the craftsmanship that go into each unique one he has seen in his lengthy career.

He's an earnest worker, following commands and instructions with the same obedience one would expect from a former Hunter. He can't exactly handle direct battle like one however, choosing instead to keep his distance from people who could meet their end from his weapon. He doesn't enjoy the feeling of combat like he used to in his youth, only doing it now to help feed his private reliance on alcohol, of which only a few people are privy to.