|Full name||Alabaster Smith (Possibly an alias)|
|Date of Birth||April 12, 2488|
|Assignment||First Mate, Redemption|
|Specialization||Preacher / Cook|
|Eyes and Hair||Blue eyes, reddish hair|
|Height and Weight||6'1"|
Unknown, possibly self-taught. Possible divinity school or some other form of formal religious training.
Browncoats (allegedly), Military specialty unknown. Possibly battlefield medic.
Various over the years.
The man who calls himself Alabaster Smith is a man of mystery, for all that he presents a smiling face to the 'Verse. What is known is that he's from the moon of Jiangyin, his accent betraying him as hailing from a backwoods community of farmers who keep to themselves and follow a rather fire-and-brimstone version of Evangelical Christianity. According to Smith, he left when he was of age, joining up with the Independents to fight in the Unification War for a good part of its duration.
During that time, he apparently suffered some sort of epiphany, and began to turn his life around, ultimately reinventing himself as a preacher. Now he travels the 'Verse, preaching a somewhat unorthodox message of peace, love, forgiveness, faith, and hope. Always smiling, always ready to listen, he's a sympathetic ear in a sometimes unsympathetic world.
Those who get to know him soon come to realize that he's got a wicked sense of humor, an almost unshakable depth of faith, and an unending capacity to talk someone's ear off. He's a highly-experienced cook who claims that if he can't feed someone's soul, he'll feed their bodies. He's a people person, at home with Companions and beggars, nobles and thieves alike, skilled at diplomacy, negotiation, persuasion, bargaining, and of course preaching. He's alluded to having some skills with a gun, but no one's ever seen him use one. He's better-known for his claim to first aid skills, which he describes best as 'battlefield medic'.
There are very few genuinely good people in the Black ... Alabaster Smith does a good job of trying to be one.
The man generally known as Alabaster Smith radiates a certain charismatic intimidation, the sort of feeling where he knows exactly what you've been up to, isn't sure he really approves, and would be pleased to help you get back on the right track. Don't take it personally; he's like that with everyone. There's blood and distant thunder in his eyes, the Apocalypse in his voice, and God by his side. Take every stereotype of the old-fashioned preacher you've ever seen, throw in some military backbone, and there you go.
The attitude overshadows his actual physical appearance. He stands 6'1", tall and relatively thin but physically fit. His skin is weathered and rugged, the sort of craggy average looks that practically define the independent men on some of the more backwoods moons. His eyes are an intense, pale icy blue, seeming to miss nothing as he looks around. His hair is a dull blood red, cut short and neatly. There's not much else to say on that front, except that he seems to smile more than any person really should.
He's dressed fairly nicely, in a striking, somewhat old-fashioned white suit. It's kept as spotless as possible, very white, very prone to making him stand out. To combat the elements, he's also wearing a long white overcoat (or sometimes an old, well-worn armored duster) which has a dramatic tendancy to flap with movement, or the breeze. Every so often, he'll remove a small grey flask from an inside pocket, and take a quick swig from it, before replacing it. The movement is smooth, practiced, and automatic. This, then, is Alabaster Smith. A man with a smile for everyone, and the absolute confidence that comes from knowing God has his back.