Justin was raised by a couple of ex-hippy parents in a beachside town just outside the city. They didn't believe in discipline – they wanted their son to grow up free and be his own person. They never told him what to wear, never made him eat anything or do anything he didn't like, and even let him skip school when he felt like it. He preferred reading and surfing to going to class, and over the years devoured most of the local library's collection, which made up for the lost education. As such, Justin became independent – and half-wild. Dropping out of school at 17, he spent a year travelling from California to Hawai'i to New Zealand just surfing. His lack of discipline made it almost impossible for him to hold any job for more than a week, and while his good looks and rebellious charm earned a lot of female attention, he was far too infuriatingly uncommitted to be good for anything but one night stands.

One night, he took a long, hard look at his life, and decided he was sick of his lack of direction. He resolved that the next day he would either enrol in university, get a job, or join the army. In the end, he did all three, more or less. He joined the National Guard and spends irregular weekends on manoeuvres or training; he enrolled in night school and started working towards a business management degree; and he joined the publishers of Metropolitan Magazine as a mail room boy. Much to Justin's surprise, he thrived under these conditions of stress and regulation – it turned out what he craved in his life was discipline and order. Over the next few years he worked hard in these three areas, rising to the rank of corporal, earning his degree, and being promoted from office dogsbody to the editor's PA.

Justin is 6'2” tall, with a fit, toned body from his love of surfing. His eyes are a dark, smoky blue, capable of being fiercely defiant or calmly accepting. Dark hair tumbles over his brown and down his neck, though he keeps it carefully combed at work to fit in with the atmosphere. His leanly muscled chest is adorned with a light patch of hair between his pectorals, and a dark trail runs down from his navel to his groin. His only real adornment is a shark's tooth pendant on a leather thong around his neck, usually hidden by his shirt, a memento of his surf-bum days.