AppearanceNameCristiano "Cristi" Caravaggio
WeaponBeing more of a post-apocalyptic Renaissance man, virtually everything Cristi owns has been modified in one way or another by its owner. Everything, that is, except a scavenged SPAX rescue axe he purchased at a dear price, but which has proved indispensable as an all-around tool. That it's also sharp enough to split a skull or sever a spine is just an added bonus. To complement its relatively short range as a weapon, he also carries a slingshot fashioned from a small, but thick titanium thing-a-ma-bob that he could only surmise had once been part of an aircraft, or something with a similar need for high tensile strength and low weight. Regardless, a stout rubber strap and a handful of 3/4-inch ball bearings gave it new purpose. Finally, being as zombie-averse as they come, and understanding that distance is paramount in avoiding a bite, he's re-worked a street sign into a sharp, machete-like weapon with a longish handle and named it Bedford, after the street for which it was originally crafted. It's sharp. Very, very sharp.
While the SPAX has obvious utility as a tool, which his how he primarily views it, the mere fact that it's also a razor sharp hand axe sees that it's checked in each evening. The slingshot and Bedford have had to keep a low profile, but both have been relatively easy to conceal. The former has done so easily, as without its band attached it looks like a random scrap next to a pile of metal bearings. Bedford was slightly harder to conceal, but removing a bolt and swiveling the sign up to its correct position on the post, such that it looked like the street sign it once was, worked until a falling out with his current roommate led to Bedford being confiscated.
Estimated AgeMid-late twenties (~25-28)
PersonalityClever, quick-witted, resourceful, and dare it be said? Brilliant! For the handful who consider him a friend, Cristi would be described thusly; however, for the rest who know him well enough, arrogant, disrespectful, and wise-ass would be among the less colorful descriptors. Truth be told, they're all accurate to a degree, for as sure as he's a talented Jack of all trades, he also has issues with authority that, in an authoritarian hold like Barrowside, are less than appreciated. The correlation is evident that, as one moves up the food chain, ones opinion of him tends to decline, and vice versa. Generally speaking, he's friendly and empathetic, with a genuine interest in others and a strong social drive. His response to the bleakness of Barrowside, and the world as it now exists, is humor in any form and that has, at times, been his undoing. That he's pranked his current roommate, who is by all appearances humorless, and a handful of the security staff has made his life a bit harder of late.
Professionally, he's extremely focused and to the point, expecting the same in reciprocation. He isn't afraid to get his hands dirty, having been the willing assistant for most of his life, and that's garnered him some measure of good will among the laborers. In fact, Cristi is a fair welder and fabricator, so it's common to find him working alongside the mechanics and construction teams making repairs or doing new construction. In a crisis, Cristi is sharp and cool-headed, viewing situations from the objective standpoint of a problem to be solved, and then executing along the most reasonable path, even if that path might be considered risky in its own right. He has no issues with delegation and expects his instructions to be followed precisely and without question. For those he respects, he offers the same of himself.
Brief BackgroundLike a good many of those in Barrowside, Cristi was born there as the youngest of four children, trailing his siblings by several years. His parents were a pair of Italian scientists, a mechanical engineer and a chemist, who met while doing graduate studies abroad. In those days, humanity appeared to be on an upswing and life couldn't have been better as they started their family. However, the arrival of the extra-terrestrials brought personal tragedy as they saw saw their world, and their first-born, stolen. Life under the aliens was nigh unbearable, but mercifully short; however, the freedom that followed came with the price of a waking nightmare, as zombies replaced their oppression with terror. For Marco and Giuseppina, safety was only relative as, while their skills afforded them safety as valued commodities, it also made them sought after by many they'd just as soon have avoided. Their second and third children, both girls, had barely made it into their teens when infection took one and marauders took the other - there's no telling which suffered the worse fate. When they finally arrived at Barrowside, they found the controlled environment comforting and the people, or at least those in charge, went to great lengths to ensure their comfort. With some trepidation, they settled in and tried for a child one last time.
Taking no chances with Cristiano, they plied him almost from birth with survival skills and basic scientific principles to build his worth, for they understood more than many the value of both. That he proved a natural with mathematics was a boon, and one which greatly accelerated his progress. In fact, his father once remarked that in better times he might've gone on to do great things. However, he and Giuseppina abandoned the theoretical for hard, applied science - the basic mechanics of leverage, combustion in its various forms and uses, and a whole host of topics that would, in their earlier lives, have been considered primitive but which now were supremely relevant. Cristi, as he came to be called, absorbed it all like a sponge and, as he grew older, began to assist when and where he could. While that was most often with his parents, they encouraged him to seek out others as well, particularly construction workers, mechanics, and farmers so he could get a better grasp of scientific principles at work. He flourished under their tutelage until both died, separated by only a couple years, of natural causes. At least, natural by the new standard.
While Cristi was initially looked on as a talented heir to their positions, hopes of any such arrangement quickly diminished as they soon realized that he was anything but the reserved analyst his father had been, or the diplomatic team leader they'd found in his mother. While he did possess characteristics of each, it was packaged in a brash individualist who was frequently at odds with the structure Barrowside imposed. Indeed, those traits were passed along by his parents as well, who'd some years earlier realized their mistake in taking up residence there, in having traded freedom for safety. Their goal hadn't simply been to imbue Cristi with valuable skills and knowledge, it was to give him everything he needed to leave on his own, should the opportunity arise. They succeeded.
Cristi's value as a resourceful engineer and applied scientist is the only thing between him and dire things. In various ways, he's either managed to offend or prank enough off his co-workers and security personnel that any number would love nothing more than to see him eaten by zombies, or at least give him a sound beating. Chief among those is his current roommate, a mediocre scientist at best who'd been trying for well over a year to climb in stature at Cristi's expense by stealing ideas and, on a few occasions, working product. In retaliation, Cristi slipped him a substance that caused uncontrollable flatulence on the eve of a romantic outing with a young woman he'd been working up the nerve to approach for months. As it turned out, he had neither the sense of humor to take the joke, nor the social aptitude to recover from the week or two of teasing he received as a result. A similar outcome was had from re-wiring a prototype electrical stun device tested by one of the more thuggish security staff, whose neanderthal treatment of women led Christi to remark once that he was so rude his own hand had turned him down for a second date. Since those events, Barrowside has become almost unbearably small and uncomfortable.
MiscCristi's an engineer in the general sense, as his education was intentionally broad. For a variety of reasons, he's usually only brought to bear on problems that others are struggling with, as his unusual perspectives and analytical ability often bear fruit. While he's had plenty of time to lose it, and relatively little reason for it persist, he speaks with a slight Italian accent that he may have preserved intentionally in remembrance of his parents. He does speak some Italian and is often keen to do so for any who are interested, since it's one of the few ties he has left to his heritage.
Level and category2A with an a-hole roommate