Dexter Campbell

Occupation: Councilman
Status: Alive

Information:
Dexter Campbell is a name not widely known, but as the campaign advertisements begin to light up across billboards, more and more eyes fall onto the councilman. Native the Reclaim Zone, Dexter Campbell has run on a platform of bringing more prosperity to his home. He isn’t gang affiliated nor is he a corporate pawn. Campbell is just a man… Without much experience, Campbell has been a small time politician for only a short period of time, but his expertise in the dealings of policy make him a good candidate if only he would sell out. His platform isn’t entirely developed, but he works issue by issue to bring more good to the world around him.

Joshua Gatch

Occupation: Incumbent Mayor
Status: Alive

Information:
Running on a platform of greed and cutthroat practices, Joshua Gatch is a businessman through and through. It is well known that he used to be a lobbyist for APEX Industries, and thus he represents them above all else, though he would deny such allegations outright. Gatch doesn’t have a great deal of local support in the Reclaim Zone, but with the revenue he brings to big industries and the disposable income he has to work the system to his advantage, he’s going to be a hard candidate to beat. Above all else, Gatch is working to deregulate the Reclaim Zone even further beyond its ruined state to essentially turn the land into a free-for-all of corporate parties destroying the district for local production purposes.

Jackson Rott

Occupation: The Knights Gang Kingpin
Status: Alive

Information:
The final and most unorthodox candidate for the mayoral position is Jackson Rott, a well-known citizen and leader of the Reclaim Zone Knights. While the prospect of a gang leader may frighten some folks, many people of the Reclaim Zone look to the Knights as protectors as much as they terrorize the populous. Rott strives for a different kind of deregulation in the zone. He aims to bring down all corporate influence on the Reclaim Zone and bring freedom to its citizens so that they may take back their land. While the Knights have been known to use violence to bring down their corporate enemies, the gang seems to want to push for legal change just as much.

General Information

NAME:
Cassandra “Cass” Cantos

ALIASES // TITLES:
N/A

SEX:
Female

AGE:
23

APPEARANCE:
Standing at a rather diminutive 5’5”, Cass is a wispy character that carries herself with a certain light swagger in her step. It’s clear that she is sure of herself, shown through the flowing nature of her calm and collected movements. Though she might come off as weak, that delicacy and gentleness Cass acts with is firmly rooted in confidence. Her dark hair is kept in a slightly unkempt bob cut falling just far enough to brush along her shoulders at length. While Cass’s black locks contrast heavily with her light skin, her hair is even more accentuated with the lock of pink dye running just to the side of her forehead. Cass has eyes that almost shine with a bright amber color, constantly perked and analyzing her surroundings.

Cass is most often seen in muted colors, wearing only what would be practically applicable to her lifestyle and undertakings. As such, she swears by her dull grey jacket, lined with straps and pockets for utility while also maintaining a sleek streetwear design. A pair of tights or grey military pants complement her style well, and she tops it off with a set of combat boots. Cass usually carries a backpack with her and is not often seen without her weapon, as obvious as it is.

OCCUPATION:
Cass has spent the past few years of her life in the employ of a private investigator located in South City. She was considered an assistant, but worked most of the cases with her employer. Cass has spent a lot of time moving about the streets gathering and exchanging information with the locals. A number of her cases also involved corporate clients and targets, forcing Cass and her partner to find themselves in a number of less than ideal situations involving clandestine operations. Her work as a private investigator essentially ended when he partner was killed in action.

CAMPAIGN TEAM POSITION:
In Campbell’s employ, Cass’s role is rather diverse as she serves as a sort of ‘operator’ for the campaign. With her knowledge of street dealings, investigative skills, and time working the black market, Cass has acquired the necessary skills to work as a street informant and investigator for Campbell. While others may take more active roles in the campaign itself, Cass opts to work from behind the scenes, gathering information and heading investigative endeavors, be it espionage or just working with the masses on a clandestine level.

Just short of a sort of razor girl, Cass acts as a sort of overseer of the underground in the campaign. She is a watcher, gathering knowledge on the understanding of the collective populous of the Reclaim Zone. With her connections throughout the city and her experience in business, she acts on any needs that require a fixer or investigator. Campbell’s campaign is a tumultuous and ever-changing front. With Cass on the front-lines as a liason to the people and secretive dealings that may be influencing the campaign, bringing back information to Campbell and the team so that they may act accordingly. This can involve learning about the sway of other candidates or looking into the motives and actions of larger entities such as gangs and corporations involving the elections.

Psychological Profile

PERSONAL GOAL:
Aside from struggling just to survive, Cass pushes herself forward knowing that she still has unfinished business. With both of her livelihoods destroyed and neither culprit justly apprehended, Cass seeks to take matters into her own hands. In doing so, she intends to build herself into someone more capable and durable as a person. She knows that her problems were in part owed to her own ineptitudes. Finding out who attacked Primer Investigations and locating Felix’s killer is more important to her as a personal and retributive vendetta than an act of vengeance against someone who tried to kill her. Knowing that Felix was driving their office down a path above their pay grade, Cass knows that whatever her partner was onto was big, and finding his killer may help further reveal the plot he was uncovering so that she could continue in his stead.

Because of the consistently dangerous work that Cass has undertaken throughout her life, she seeks to adapt beyond the moment. While she has lived a mostly reactionary life, losing out and narrowly escape with her life on multiple endeavors, Cass is now more focused on cementing herself as a force of nature. This involves better outfitting herself to deal with her work, upgrading her equipment and cybernetics to ultimately reclaim the status she once held under the Mammoth. While it isn’t necessarily Cass’s goal to become a kingpin of the fixer game, she wants a greater grasp on her own influence be it through her own empire or through the employ of a powerful figure. That stands as her most dangerous trait— the desire to escape her ‘wayward soul’ mentality and attain something worth her devotion.

CAMPAIGN GOAL:
Cass initially found Campbell through data of Felix’s past contacts. While she knows that Campbell may not lead her directly to her goal in pursuing the mystery of the downfall of Primer Investigations, Cass intends to utilize Campbell’s platform and his familiarity with Felix’s contacts to further her own investigation. In doing so, she knows that she would be assisting Campbell in return. In some strange way Cass has come to believe that assisting Campbell in his rise through the political ranks would be right in the eyes of Felix. It is almost a continuation of the penance she was paying by working to balance her negative past.

Cass intends to elevate Campbell as much as she can from her position of deflecting and informing on external forces acting on his campaign. To do so inevitably allows her to extend her own influence and work with Campbell to discover the greater plot behind Felix’s assassination while also maintaining a position of greater power. With her specific position, Cass sees herself happily employed as a determiner of fates as she is able to cripple or bring along other organizations in the wake of Campbell’s success with how she directs the flow of information.

PERSONAL PHILOSOPHY:
Due to her upbringing, the presence of power has become a defining part of a person’s character in Cass’s mind. She finds that she has a lot to prove and intends to make her inherent sway and ability known. Willful and ready to stand her ground, Cass has grown tired of the untouchable input on the lives of the population. Above all else, she just wants to live free of the influence of others, be they corporations, government influences, or mob hierarchies. Because of this, Cass wrestles with a certain dissonant selfishness. Her morality revolves around her experiences alone. Of course, this doesn’t mean Cass is entirely selfish. Her greatest drives revolve around bringing that sense of freedom she strives for herself to the masses. That lack of individuality in the eyes of world’s powers eats at Cass more than anything.

POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY:
Cass defines herself politically with a great influence from the gang philosophies that were all around her as she grew up. To her, there is a certain unbreakable bond that can be formed between allies that transcends law, loyalty, and death. Of course, just as easily as these bonds are made, one must expect to be lied to. In accepting this streetwise mentality, Cass doesn’t really align herself with any of the major political parties outright as she grew up believing that the government outweighed any positive impacts with negative ones. Holding her close allies above all else, Cass is also against major corporate entities as they tend to represent something beyond the common man to her.

Due to her wholly laissez-faire style of interacting with any superior entities and the fact that Cass intends to stand her ground against corporations and politicians most closely aligns her with the Pirate Party. Her beliefs, however, are much more diverse as she also accepts the general moral compass of the HyperHuman Party to be the most sound despite its small scale acceptance. Deep down somewhere inside her, Cass finds herself driven by the good message of the HyperHuman Party, but doesn’t allow herself to fully seek good when she finds so much personal struggle present in her life. Cass additionally supports a small number of similar NTP legislations due to the fact that she is heavily augmented and seeks only to upgrade her connection with the machines.

SECRETS:
►Fugitive Status
Between her time in the Mammoth’s mob and her time at Rockland, Cass has quite the negative resume. She keeps her past closely guarded for this reason. She fears what may come to her if it is discovered that she is still actively a wanted fugitive in the New York Seaboard and surrounding megaregions. Not only is there a fear of a once friend becoming a greed-driven bounty hunter, but Cass also holds a fear that all she has worked for in South City will be destroyed in a smear of her character. While she isn’t known as the most savory individual already, she could be burned entirely from Campbell’s campaign if any particularly powerful entity cared to publically go after her.

► The Fixer
Despite her newfound political work, Cass still retains quite a bit of the knowledge she accrued during her work as a fixer under her father. Many of the practices utilized in dealing illicit goods have transferred over to her information gathering practices as Campbell’s investigator. As much as she fronts as Campbell’s above-board detective and eyes on the street, Cass still maintains her connections to the seedy gangs, dealers, and underground characters throughout the Reclaim Zone. She keeps her work as clandestine as possible to the point where even her fellow campaign workers may not know the extent to which she goes to gather information. Cass has even been known for being a covert employee of Campbell’s in the sense that she doesn’t openly admit that she works for a political campaign in fear that she may lose some of her connections in doing so. Most of her underground connections believe her to be a sort of razor girl, fixer, or private investigator.

FEARS:
► Solitude & Intimacy
While Cass maintains a wholly fearless outward appearance, she cannot escape what’s in her own head. Having lost her family in the mob’s downfall and having lost Felix under strange circumstances, Cass is at a loss for connecting closely with people. She began to believe that she could have been the problem. Whether she acknowledges it or not, Cass fears any sort of deeper connection with allies, both for her sake and theirs.

► Ripper Docs
Having seen the more esoteric side of the Ripper Docs, Cass has been exposed to the mania that often comes with unlicensed medical personnel who take apart bodies for a living. While she can’t avoid Black Clinics altogether, Cass is weary every time she is around a Ripper Doc. It’s as though she senses beyond any good intentions and projects her own vile motivations onto the keepers of the Black Clinics.

REPUTATION:
Cass has quite the mixed reputation and general opinion of her can vary on a national scale. While she is currently a wanted criminal in the New York Seaboard, her reputation in the Reclaim Zone is vastly different. Amongst the street dives and derelict clubs of her home district, Cass is seen to represent a sort of outlaw, though she maintains a well-liked status by the district’s inhabitants. Despite her shady and clandestine work and motives, Cass is seen as a friend to many, playing off of her time working as a private eye to garner a number of connections in the community. As such, Cass connects well with underground factions, bartenders, and other streetwise individuals, but may be view with an unsavory eye by high level corporations and politicians that may visit the Reclaim Zone. Overall, it is clear to most that Cass is a character full of secrets, but the benefits she brings often outweigh the caution that is initially felt upon working with her.

LIKES:
► Control

► Excitement

► Technology

► Secrecy

► Her Work

DISLIKES: (Same as above)
► The Law System

► Corporate Entities

► Inadaptability

► Intimacy in Allies

QUIRKS:
►Tends to stay silent in large groups

►Has a strange fascination with weaponry and often fidgets with her armaments

Background Information

”Every man and woman has their edge, but only those who expect to be cut and utilize their own will find themselves rising above.”

The young Cass Cantos never was. In the beginning, there was only Cassie Venador. Born to a complex pair of unmarried parents in New York City, Cassie lost contact to her mother before she could form lasting memories. Her father, Anton “Mammoth” Venador ran a rather lucrative operation working as one of Rockland county’s big time Fixers. The Mammoth was known for his wide variety. The man could get you anything you needed. Guns, grafts, cyberware, information, tech, it all fell into his hands whether from illicit contacts or production at its base level. An operation as big as the Mammoth’s, however, required a lot of devotion to maintain a successful enterprise. As such, the Mammoth’s business was his life, and therefore Cassie’s life as well.

Cassie grew up with her father’s money, but she was also deeply entrenched in the family business. With any sense of a moral compass malformed, Cassie would assist her father in bookkeeping and warehouse operation until she finally grew old enough to work as a liason for the Mammoth. As much as Cassie wanted to be a fixer like her father, she was young and hungry to jump into the business in full swing even with her lacking knowledge of the business. Immediately, the young and sheltered girl started taking on more than she could handle. Trying not only to work the jobs her father gave to her but also find and work with new clients at the same time. It wasn’t long before Cassie was building her own unique team within her father’s business— protection, runners, and regular clients all found their way into Cassie’s circle. For the first time, she was finally able to connect with others outside of her father’s sheltering.

The most important of all her newfound connections was a client that Cassie had taken a particular liking to. “Irish”, as he was called, was buying guns— larger shipments than Cassie could handle alone— but he was much more to her than a client with a wallet larger than he should have had. Irish was a friend to Cassie, perhaps even the first real friend she could make outside of the Mammoth’s mob. They would meet weekly just to be together, and it wasn’t long before Cassie wanted them to work together. Irish couldn’t agree more. With the largest order he’d ever wanted to fill in motion, Cassie had no choice but to go to her father.

Only then would Cassie find that the most meaningful part of her life was the biggest lie she would ever come to realize. Upon the final meeting Cassie would have with her father, the Mammoth’s warehouse was stormed. A last attempt to fight back from the Mammoth’s mob and the failsafes buried in his warehouse left the building a firestorm of rigged explosives and rattling gunfire. Irish was revealed as a criminal informant, and everyone in the Mammoth’s highest circle was taken down. Few left uninjured. Cassie was no exception, waking up in a hospital having lost an arm and a leg to explosive shrapnel. Her father’s money staved off that problem, though. While the Mammoth was fighting the death penalty off, the still underage Cassie was fed into the system. Managing to avoid actual prison, Cassie was given to Rockland Psychiatric Hospital. The greatest surprise didn’t come until she was checked in, however, when she learned that Irish was admitted as well, double-crossed and spit out by the Enforcer task force that wanted Anton Venador.

As much as Cassie thought herself untouchable and vengeful, she couldn’t bring herself to kill Irish. She tried as a matter of fact, but his woeful explanations almost swayed her back to the side of her love. Nonetheless, Cassie’s anger prevailed even throughout the psychiatric help she received and as she learned who her father really was, what he’d done, and who it affected. Cassie was as combative as they came, and while her hopes of ever leaving Rockland were nonexistent, there was one man that dared to change that. His coordinated plan came in the middle of the night. Despite her indignation, Cassie couldn’t say no to Irish in the heat of the moment. He broke her out— just her.

Upon her escape, Cassie was just as much a fugitive as she was before her admission. Fearing she’d be found anywhere in the New York Seaboard or in any of the eastern megaregions with heavy Enforcer presences, she made for as far away as she could. To establish herself in South City was no easy task. Cassie had nothing in terms of experience that qualified her for above board work. Her cyberware was lackluster, and her skills on the street were nascent. Working as a razorgirl wouldn’t have gone well and she couldn’t set herself up as a fixer without connections, money, and time. Cassie did have one thing, however. She had her name, bearing proof that she worked with the Mammoth. She was experienced and knowledgeable in her own right, and that was all she needed to at least find work.

Cassie had a chance meeting with a private investigator by the name of Felix Primer. Her unique circumstances managed to draw pity from the down-on-his-luck PI. He took her in as an assistant and partner in training. With the New York Seaboard behind her, Cassie Venador had to die with her past, with her father, and with Rockland. Taking on the Name Cass Cantos, she worked with Felix for a number of years. Gathering information on the streets and easing her way into connecting with the Reclaim Zone, Cass made herself a name and a reputation in South City. Finally she had the money she’d needed to tune up her government cyberware. For the first time, Cass found herself as right with the world as she could be. Felix’s partnership didn’t last forever, though. Cass hadn’t changed a bit and Felix only fed into her ambition. They were notorious for taking on cases too big to handle. When an assassin finally came, tearing through their office, Felix was killed and Cass was back to square one.

With nowhere else to turn, Cass found herself going to a man listed in some of Felix’s contact books, Dexter Campbell. He needed a team. Cass needed work, and keeping the office running after it had been nearly destroyed wasn’t sustainable. She looked into Campbell as much as she would any other new client, and that was all the reassurance she needed. As crooked as Cass was throughout her life, Campbell’s campaign was quite a change of scenery. Nonetheless, Cass moved on the opportunity. Campbell knew Felix well and trusted Cass with business. That was all she needed

Operative Information

AUGMENTATIONS:
►Vehemetech Cyberlimbs [Ronin Model]
After the incident that caused the downfall of the Mammoth’s mob, Cass was horribly mutilated by the fires losing an arm and a leg. While her original cyberlimbs grafted to her in Rockland were poor quality industrial models, Cass found herself with the money to upgrade when she took on her work with Felix Primer. With functionality and performance being her top priorities, Cass opted for some of Furytech’s higher end models from the Ronin series. Her left arm and leg left are made of a lattice of carbon fiber and fiberglass mimicking muscle fibers and toughened flesh. The limbs offer Cass an increased agility and formula-based code that assists in battle. Due to the specific model of cyberlimbs, Cass also has access to a set of extendable blades protruding from the exterior of the wrist on her arm.

►Opti-Tactics Visual Enhancer
One of FuryTech’s newer products, the Opti-Tactics Visual Enhancer operates as a replacement for most of the biomass in the user’s eyes, leaving them with a uniquely bright, sleek, and aesthetically pleasing design. The implant as a whole provides the user with a tactical overlay atop their vision that provides calculations, estimations, and tactical input regarding the exact nature of the user’s surroundings. Cass finds the implant particularly useful in her line of work as it keeps her alert and supremely aware of her surroundings and how to interact with her environment in an advantageous way.

►Auto-Neural Verberation Link
The Auto-Neural Verberation Link, or ANVL (Colloquialized as “Anvil”) is Cass’s most esoteric piece of cyberware, having been implanted in her skull illegally through one of the Reclaim Zone’s Black Clinics. Cass acquired the ANVL implant from a dead netrunner uncovered in one of her and Felix’s final investigations. After Felix’s death, Cass decided to look further into it on her own. When she arrived at the Black Clinic, the Ripper Doc revealed he’d only seen the sort of tech once before in a high level Amalgamation operative. The ANVL functions to allow its user to detect subtle shifts in reverberation and resonance in an area around the user. Offering something akin to a tremor-echolocation, the ANVL provides the user with acute and superhuman awareness.

EQUIPMENT:
►Ōsuzumebachi Machine Pistols_(大雀蜂)
A weapon designed and manufactured for and by Tokyo’s more underground consumers. Known almost solely by its slang name, referring to a giant hornet endemic to the Japanese islands, this little machine packs the perfect punch and manages to remain concealable. The Ōsuzumebachi is known particularly for its use of plastic and ceramics. While it isn’t entirely devoid of metal— as its inner workings still require some vital pieces— it is still enough to fool some of the lower end metal detectors. Alongside each pistol, Cass has access to a laser sight and a silencer for extraneous purposes during particularly demanding missions.

►The Mandelbrot Monoblade
A combination of the efforts of the Japanese and American underground, the Mandelbrot Monoblade is a type of katana-styled sabre specifically known for its sharpness. Named for the single carbon fiber strand that runs down the length of the blade in constant rotation through the blade’s mechanism. This allows for the blade to shred through even heavier materials than a normal metal blade if wielded right. Because of all the time Cass spent around street samurai and mercenaries, she picked up the weapon as a signature of hers, paying tribute to the model hitmen of the Mammoth’s mob.

SKILLS:
►The Watcher
Cass’s skills of surveillance, espionage, and observation have become unparalleled around the Reclaim Zone. With the connections she has made and the tactics she has learned working at Primer Investigations, Cass has become rather adept at conducting stealthy and inconspicuous information gathering. She is never not observing and she has never left the mindset of a private eye. When it comes to clandestine operations, Cass is one of the best.

►The Fixer
Due to her time in the Reclaim Zone, Cass has set herself up with a web of connections to keep her supplied at all time with whatever she might need. She has created a vast network of information and contacts, allowing her to work quickly and efficiently when looking for insight into any particular topic on the streets. This helps her with her work as she can quickly locate certain people, items, or points of interest.

►In Harm’s Way
Throughout her life, Cass has found herself under harsh circumstances left and right. Whether struggling with the cutthroat thugs of the Mammoth’s mob or fighting the everyday dangers of Felix’s investigations, Cass has found herself in a plethora of dangerous situations and has prepared herself for catastrophe accordingly. Under pressure, she acts calm and collected, ready to take on her mission despite any circumstances.

FLAWS:
►Neurosynth Dependency
Starting in its minor stages after Cass received her cyberware at Rockland, she began to develop a need for Neurosynth to prevent the effects of SPECS from taking hold. While her consumption of Neurosynth was only minor and manageable with her augmented limbs, things only spiraled out of control when she began to further augment herself with other implants. Cass now requires Neurosynth regularly to prevent mental decay.

►Audacious
Having lived a life of survival rather than of leisure or hard work, Cass has found herself endangered more regularly than the common man. Because of this, she has adapted herself to taking surprisingly bold risks without thinking of the consequences. While confidence and mettle can be necessary in certain situations, one can only go so far before being reckless. Cass finds herself crossing that line more often than not, and she’s sustained the injuries to prove it.

►Deadly Fixation
Cass had come a long way in her life to work at Primer Investigations. Looking back on it as one of the happiest times in her life, Cass can only regret that she was unable to save Felix in his assassination. Ever since the shooting at the office, Cass has become fixated on the thought of retribution. She is not only willing to put her life on the line in the heat of the moment, but also the life of her career work with Campbell. In truth, there is little Cass wouldn’t do to uncover the plot behind the death of her friend.

NOTES:

General Information

NAME:

S’venia Skor

ALIASES // TITLES:

Svei

The Truth

The Purple Streak

SEX:

F

AGE:

30

APPEARANCE:

S'venia stands at a height of five foot, eleven inches tall with a lithe feminine frame. She keeps her hair cut to a medium length bob that is both stylish and functional; with the occasional ponytail when needed. While she is a brunette by nature, she has dyed her hair blue with a single purple streak for the past five years, earning herself the nickname the purple streak in the process. Her natural eye color is a hazel color that often changes to a shade of green. Her left eye sports an eye-spy contact lens that serves as her camera that, while not normally visible, can be seen when recording as an orange ring appears over her eyes. The set of three hexagonal tattoo's to the left of the eye are a set of control panels that are required to be used with the contact camera; a regulation that for once S’venia wishes was dropped. While she is never once to be overly fancy, instead she tends to stick with the tried and tested look of black boots over-top simple jeans underneath a simple t-shirt. She does tend to vary this simple look with any number of jackets; the color and style depend on the day. She tends to focus on a very colorful and over-top style that is all too in fashion right now or very basic leather for her jackets, with very few that fall in the middle.

OCCUPATION: (What did you do before the campaign? Or what do you still do? This can be held prior to the campaign or ongoing.)





CAMPAIGN TEAM POSITION: (Your position under Campbell. What do you do? See the first post for various ideas.)

S'venia acts as an informal communication director for Campbell's team and is formally hired on as a media relations manager. Her day starts at nine in the morning at Campbell's office, where she finds herself secluded and available for any and all calls. Her primary function is to handle requests for press releases for Dexter Campbell; often writing up a response and then bringing it to Dexter for approval. Another facet of her job is improving the public image of Dexter in a variety of ways; to this point, they have done some work in the slums, volunteered in the shelters, and worked alongside the hardworking citizens of the Reclaimed. By far the hardest, and most consistent, part of her job is assessing in real time the public's view of Dexter after smear ads are run and planning a counterattack to combat the negative messages. She also handles the social media accounts of Dexter Campbell's campaign, where she releases carefully crafted statements to the residents of the Reclaimed district.

Psychological Profile

PERSONAL GOAL: (Why are you still around? What are you trying to achieve?)

S’venia has lived and worked in The Reclaim district for the past eight years and has seen all the horrors that had been wrought upon the poor and the broken. Drugs, violence, and unrest perpetuated the soul of this district as it adopts the personification of the evil that is South City. S’venia wants to be a part of the turnaround. She sees the potential here. From the quaint and criminally unknown coffee shop Black Sun coffee, tucked down an alley in-between two of the clubs on Swathe street, to the constant sense of hope that exudes from the average citizen when they discuss the future under Campbell. While the gangs, and corporations for that matter, don’t want to see the district rise to its potential, S’venia does.

The Truth’s goal is to bring accountability back to politics and corporations. The world of old was driven by transparency and accountability, and we the people had the power. "The Truth” sees the politicians drive home the point that we the people have become complacent in our actions. They strip our protections, deny us our rights, and bend over backward to take the full thrust of the corporate lobbyist machine. The Truth knows that she can’t move too fast, to do so would invite a vast migration of work and jobs away from South City. Instead, “The Truth” hopes to start a grassroots movement to slowly give the power back to the people; and when they have it, then she will unleash her full fury in getting them to exercise it.

CAMPAIGN GOAL: (Why did you link up with Campbell? What are you trying to do for his platform?)

S’venia joined the Campbell campaign in its infancy. While she knew of the council member and his general platform before he ran for the mayor’s seat, she did not know much else. In order to get more information for the article she was writing, she requested an interview to which Dexter quickly accepted. When she sat down with Campbell, she listened as he outlined his vision for the district; and S’venia saw how his movement had vertical possibilities. Though through her optics, she could sense the man did not have a chance against the machine that is the mayoral election process. He was up against a lot of dark money set to keep the current status quo in the district. His flaws were quickly evident, even in the short time they interviewed together. He had no idea how to put together a statement to the media that outlined his vision without leaving him open for rebuttal, often played his cards too open and easy to see, and it felt like he was out-of-touch with how the media works. She sensed that he needed help. So, on a whim, a few weeks after the interview, she asked to join on and help guide the councilman to become more natural in front of the media but quickly rose up the ranks with her natural skill and journalistic intuition.

Her goal in this campaign is to get an honest and hardworking man elected to a position of power; no matter how small. She wants to use the momentum gained from a potential victory and frame it to allow for upward mobility for Campbell to ascend the political ladder. She also wants her name to become more recognized. S'venia has a political ambition of her own and hopes to use Campbell to springboard herself into the political arena. The better Campbell does now, the better she’ll look in the future. She has a lot of ideas that are subtle enough that the major corporations would easily overlook while powerful enough to curb the rising gang issues as a start. While she knows there will never be a way for the corruption and the violence to end without some drastic change, she at least wants to get her foot in the door so she can begin fighting. At the same time, she wants to start utilizing “The Truth” to help in that regard.

A successful mayoral election is just the first of many baby step in the long road ahead for S'venia.

PERSONAL PHILOSOPHY: (Who are you really? What morally defines you? What drives you?)

S’venia’s philosophy is a simple one if you can help you should. When she is not working with the campaign, or on social media promoting, she will often find herself volunteering at various shelters, usually behind the counter with the food, or donating what she can to the pantries. While she is not from The Reclaim, her family instead hails from the Middle District, she feels the plight and struggle of this district just as much as anyone else.

To S’venia, there is no clear black and white morality scale where you are good or bad. Instead, S’venia believes that there is always a lot of greys when it comes to viewing a person. She will look down on a thief less if he stole for survival, and will look down more harshly on people who do bad things because it is either the norm for them or because they get some form of enjoyment out of it. While crime is still a crime in her books, a criminal is not always defined by it. Yet she isn’t without some darker traits. Because of her morality scale, the ends can justify the means to her. She is willing to cross lines in the pursuit of the greater good if it means that a better day may soon come to pass. She's not afraid to toss someone else under the bus if it means protecting herself because she is "The Truth", and her message needs to be delivered.

Because the end justifies the means, "The Truth" is free to unleash her true voice on the masses.

POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY: (What are your views on the world? While a partisan identity would be nice to include, feel free to define yourself outside of the five parties. This is important as Campbell will eventually have to choose a party to represent.)

The government needs to get the dark money out of the system. S’venia is not very out-spoken when it comes to her own political philosophy, instead, she has simply adopted the platform of Dexter and instead used her voice as “The Truth” to spread her message. In truth, she sees the core issue with the mega-cities is in the lack of accountability among both the politicians and the executives of the big companies. She knows that those who are critical in their words against either of the two don’t last as long as she would like, and has thus adopted the policy of keep quiet, never leave her thoughts in print, and keep saying the things that Dexter would say. She is very much against the status quo and would be very much in favor of blowing the whole system up and replace it with one that better serves the interests of the people, and not the corporations. To get to that end will require a lot of time and a lot of patience. When it comes to Campbell, S'venia wants to help shape his vision and bring him into The Pirate Party.

S'venia herself is not a registered member but is very much in favor of the Pirate Party. As "The Truth", she frequently calls for more people to vote Pirate in upcoming elections to hopefully get some more steam behind the group. She is still wary of throwing her full weight behind the party, as once in power things tend to stay the same; complacency at the top happens when they reach the corruption, after all. S'venia plans to wait and see how they handle power if and when they get it.

SECRETS: (What are you hiding? What would it cost you if someone found out what’s behind the veil?)

For starters, her contacts. A lot of her contacts in the underbelly of society when she was a journalist are not the type of people that S’venia ever wishes to associate with. She knows many of the more unsavory types were murderers, rapists, and drug pushers that have created the mess that she hopes Dexter can now clean.

Additionally, she fears that somehow the corporations or politicians identify her as The Truth. She has read of all the suicides with a single gunshot to the back of the head from those who get too vocal too fast, and The Truth has been very vocal.

While she talks about fighting alongside the poor, her family lived more or less a life of comfort. While she had sleep for dinner a few nights growing up, she never had to face the situations even the "middle-class" residents of this district have had to.

FEARS: (What keeps you up at night? What makes you freeze up in the moment? What do you avoid at all costs?)

S’venia toes the line between confidence and arrogance, and she worries that one day she will cross it at the wrong time. She worries that some of her words will be taken the wrong way by the people in positions of power and that they see it fit to come after her both physically and financially.

She is also afraid of being discovered as “The Truth”. Hard knocks on the door of her apartment always warrant a pistol in hand approach, hooded figures on the street are always suspected, and any and all calls from unknown numbers force her to take a deep breath, close her eyes, and answer. While there are many protections in place from South City Blues, make enough noise and they will find you all the same.

She is also afraid of the enforcers and their methods, more so than most. Growing up in a more approachable district meant that the enforcers were generally better liked; even though they were feared still. Here, they seem to have murderous intent in every action they take.

The Nekrolytes are a constant, but rational fear that inhabits the mind of S’venia. When she was a kid, she accidentally opened a video on the web that showed the creatures in a full-on rage. While it only scarred the mind slightly, S’venia can’t help but tense up anytime their name is brought up; even in casual conversations.

S’venia is also keenly afraid of being consumed by the filth of The Reclaim district that she is trying to clean. When you back an animal into a cage, it tends to fight back. As such, S’venia has recently been looking over her shoulders, spending more time at the firing range, and carrying her pistol on her where ever she can.

S'venia also fears that she will climb the Brokers ladder too fast, and is worried about what her life will be like once she enters the Broker's circle.

Above all else, S’venia is afraid she will succumb to the darkness that inhabits this place and become at home in the filth.

REPUTATION: (How does the world view you? What are you known for? How do your people act around you?)

S’venia is a well-regarded journalist for her age and is seen that she is making a logical move into the political theater. As a journalist, many had come to like the hard-hitting articles that covered a variety of topics that S’venia had brought to the area. While she may have had a blunder or two over the initial few months on the campaign staff as she grew into the roles given to her, she has emerged as competent enough. That hasn’t changed the rhetoric coming from the opposing campaigns. As a communication director, she has ruffled some feathers in the way she schedules interviews.


LIKES: (Feel free to list a few.)

-Classic films- When she has the time, S’venia likes to watch the classic films from before the climate went to hell. Some of her favorite classic films include A Loud Pace, sequel to a close second favorite A Quiet Place, The Death of Mrs. Adler, and Blade Runner – 2055. While some chastise her preference of the older movies, she maintains they have a charm unmatched by the heavily edited movies of today.

-Nicknames- S'venia likes giving her friends nicknames and having nicknames given back. Usually, they are well-meaning yet sometimes they can be conceived as offensive and S’venia might not realize until after someone mentions it.

-Jackets- Out of all the fashion possibilities to develop an obsession over, S’venia had to go with one of the more expensive ones. She has a jacket for every occasion, from colorful vibrant ones when at the bar to simple, boring ones when she needs to be professional.

-Books- S'venia is as much an average reader as much as she is a writer. She, much like her choice in movies, prefers to have her hands on an old, physical copy if an all possible. Some books that she read, such as Manufacturing Consent and Seventeen Contradictions and the End of Capitalism, are not found on the internet and exist with a soft ban; with the physical copies being burned by corporation burn teams.

DISLIKES: (Same as above)

-Being late- S'venia is a woman who loves her schedule, and as such she dislikes it anytime either herself or someone else is late.

-Smokers- The smell of the various different drugs is nauseating to S’venia, and as such avoids it as much as possible.

-Complacency – Just because things have been the same way for years does not mean you should just accept it as fate. You should always fight to be the best version of yourself, even if it means fighting against the system.

-The system- With every fiber in her body, S’venia dislikes the system that keeps the poor down, the powerful strong, and is untouchable; for now.


QUIRKS: (What makes you unique for better or worse?)

Extremely conscious of posture. S’venia is constantly standing or sitting with perfect posture.

S’venia is constantly humming a tune, but not always the same one. It’s very soft and most of the time she doesn't realize she's doing it. If asked, she will say the tune is from a certain song, but anyone who looks up said song will know it’s not the tune at all.

Paces back and forth when deep in thought

Can’t stand even numbers, for some reason they are odd to her.

S’venia often times stumbles over the pronunciation of her name and has thus adopted Svei for informal uses.

Anytime someone asks if S’venia can do something, she will ask for the magic word “please”. If they lead with please, she assumes there might be an ulterior motive

Anytime someone asks for a favor, S’venia always asks what the favor is before accepting/declining

Over-exaggerates past stories of herself

Brand loyal on the surface. If it isn’t Engitech than she does not want it.

Background Information

”Liberty lives and dies at the hands of the commoner, remember that. While they are now starting to love you, never turn your back on them; not even for a second. I think you’ll learn rather quickly that they have a lot of rage built up, and they’re more than willing to share it.”

S’venia was born and raised in the Middle district; known for its middle-class families and middle-class style of life. She spent her time as a kid heavily involved in the real world as many of those her age began to delve into the madness that was virtual reality. From a young age, she saw the signs that highlighted the danger the virtual reality network had and thus steered clear from asking her parents for any and all augmentations that would allow her to access the network; much to her parent's delight and much to the abuse of her classmates. After graduating from the normal education course provided by the government, she sought higher education at the South City College with a focus on journalism. She witnessed a few examples of Enforcer brutality up until this point, yet she chalked it up to the way that life was lived. Stay on the straight and narrow, and never fear the blade that was the Enforcers decision. It was here she met a certain individual that would shape her future; Alexia Consuela. They both shared a class together early on and immediately hit it off as friends. Alexia was a very vocal critic of every institution that held power. She hated the corporations, the politicians, and she was not afraid to share her opinion on those matters. The duo was close, but not “best friends” as Alexia defined it, yet they and their group of friends eked out a sense of normalcy in a sea of dread and despair.

Alexia would later commit suicide by a single gunshot wound to the back of the head.

S’venia was overcome with both grief and fury; as were their mutual friends. And so, on a cold winters' eve, the group decided to take action in the memory of their lost friend and the South City Blues was founded on that very night. You had a hacker, a programmer, and a journalist when they started; but that would prove to be all that they needed. S’venia rose to the occasion and lent her heavily modified voice to the cause, initially speaking about the inability of Enforcers to adequately supervise the investigation in the death of their friend. The message quickly changed, however. The more she spoke, the more S’venia found cracks to push through in the current political landscape. Eventually, the group discovered they had a following and ever since then, The Truth has been a steady flow of Anti-corporation and anti-politician soundbites. Early on, the group was approached by an Agent of the Information Broker. While the rest of the group was weary, S'venia signed herself up for the protection and services offered by the Broker. Ever since then, she has had an Agent near the studio ready to pick up the next message from The Truth.

After graduating, S’venia found work in the Reclaim District as a beat journalist; much to her family's dismay. It was here where S’venia forged a career that focused heavily on a fact-driven approach that spared no details. At first, the editors hated the message that S’venia tried to deliver. Yet the populace always loved a good hit piece, and her editors were forced to allowed to let S’venia to write freely about the issues that plagued the South City and more importantly, the Reclaim district. S’venia was forged from the fire that was Alexia’s passion to become “The Truth” here; as the grime of corruption oozed out of every orifice of the Reclaim district. A fire was snuffed, yet it emerged re-imagined and ever stronger. Every article, every interview, and every media bit she could control S’venia has dedicated her life to bringing the fight to those that fight from the shadows; though she still prefers the covert method. She hungers for the day when the politicians and corporations answer to the people.

She awaits that thought as she works alongside Dexter Campbell. The last eight months have been a roller-coaster of work for the campaign, and she is happy that their car is finally pulling into the station today.

Operative Information

AUGMENTATIONS: (What sort of Cyberware are you equipped with?)

Engitech Eye-Spy Camera and video recording contact.

One of the few pieces of tech she has, the Eye-Spy is a clear contact lens that allows for high-quality photo and videos to be taken right from her perspective. The camera itself is very powerful and surprisingly cheap (with everyone rushing to get the newest implant, older style electronics have dropped in price), with the ability to shoot video at a 16k resolution and take photos at fifty mega-pixels for ultra-clear and easily edited photos. The camera is controlled by a few different methods. The first is a small physical shutter control device that she can covertly click when doing more covert research. The second is the control panel tattooed on the side of her head (a requirement by the government). She can simply press the bottom panel for a photo, the middle right panel for video, and top left for a live stream. The third is for voice control. S’venia can simply say, when she has it programmed for this function, “take a picture”, or “start recording” or something along those lines and have the camera get to work.

EQUIPMENT: (What are you carrying on the job?)



SKILLS: (Feel free to list a few and elaborate a bit.)

Writing – S'venia being the former journalist that she finds that writing comes naturally to her; as it had for most of her life. Her focus is still on articles, though she refrains from publishing any op-ed's while on the campaign lest they are used against Dexter.

Personable – Thanks to her upbringing and her moral code, S’venia finds it easy to make friends with most people. She is a willing listener to their problems and always will try and answer any questions they ask with an honest, and thought out response.

Photography – S'venia is a fantastic photographer, and would have made it a career if there was one in it; everyone has a camera that can take the pictures it seems. Furthermore, she is versed in photo editing which allows her to make sure every picture she submits anywhere looks like it was done by a professional.

FLAWS: (Aim for three or so. Equal or greater to your number of skills.)

Blunt – While honesty is a virtue along the way to having great character, sometimes it can come off on the wrong tone. S’venia is especially vulnerable to this if she is placed in a situation where she has to speak quickly, and not allowed time to formulate an answer.

Impious – S'venia has seen the darkness that lurks in the hearts of mankind. S’venia has eyes that have seen the scorched earth and desolate surroundings of her city. S’venia has ears that have heard stories of monstrous creatures outside the wall. If there was a god, then it’s not a god S’venia wants to meet.

Naïve - While she is a smart woman, she is often very naïve when it comes to certain challenges she has never encountered. She often thinks with the right attitude, and hard work, one can accomplish anything they set out to. S'venia knows that it is foolish to even suspect that to be a possibility, especially in South City, yet it is as much ingrained in her mind as the corruption that besets the city.

NOTES:
-Has three tattoo's
-Keeps up with technology when possible. Her apartment is very much filled to the brim with the latest tech, including an eight-dimensional audio system for music listening.
-

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General Information/Specifications

NAME: Mackwell Fordwell Sloane

ALIASES // TITLES

- The Stacked Over-Driver/Over-Driver

- MacTruck

SEX: Male

AGE: 29 Years, 6 Months, 4 Days, 13 hours, 12 seconds ticking.....

APPEARANCE

Mack’s weathered and towering figure bears the typical popular adornment of the average citizen of the Reclaim Zone, which is a fashionable veil of neon griminess and dilapidation, except instead of a dour frown, you get a brown-toothed smile besmirched with crumbs of cheap re-hydrated ice-cream sandwiches. Mack radiates happiness and it's rare to see a frown on his face only for it to become a smile once more. However, there's an un-mistakable twitch, a blink, a momentary passing sign of pain in his positivism that demands to be reaped upon. Every corner of his body is covered in the unmistakable down-trodden scent of South City’s underbelly. His dirty blonde hair, flecked with motor oil and the nauseous scent of engine coolant, is cut in a slick, short comb with shaven chops on each side of his skull, moving slightly as if being blown by some invisible wind. Underneath his mop of hairs lies his sunken green eyes that have a ever-constant look of electrical optimism and peppy happiness. Rows of sleepless bags hang like curtains underneath his eye-lids, fueled by hours of coffee consumption. Mac often hides his sugar-fueled insomnia with a pair of horn-rimmed smart-glasses that are chipped at the sides.

Unlike most individuals in South City, Mack does not display his cybernetic augmentations outwardly as a badge of modernity, resorting to means to hide it such as cheap two-dollar replaceable dermal kera-patches or pharmaceutical cyte-lotion. Other than that, Mack bears a light-tattoo in the shape of a stylized bar-code on the left side of his neck and several relay lines that jut out from the right side of his head in an intricate pattern.

Mack isn’t a fashionista nor extremely picky in his choice of apparel, preferring to blend in with the crowd rather than stand out. He isn’t one to keep up with the latest Reclaim Zone chics of the current month but he isn’t an individual who lives under a rock as well. He usually prefers to wear the latest tacky Reclaimer garb, a sucker for cheap holo-movie merchandise combined with high-collared street jackets and jeans along with fingerless gloves on both of his hands. When he’s officially driving as Campbell’s Driver, Mack dresses in his Prism Helmet and his Trench-Vest Gear, a reminder from his days as the Detroit Over_Rider.

OCCUPATION: Underpaid Taxi Driver TURBO-BLAZER

CAMPAIGN TEAM POSITION

January 13th, 2064

Mr Mack Fordwell Sloane - LA1907335992
48th Floor, Hab 10, Tower 9
Babel Holdings, South City
Free Economic Zone of Los Angeles

The Campbell Campaign Office is pleased to offer you the position of Personal Chaffeur. Thorough review of your prior distinguished experience and employment records by our Campaign Manager has indicated that you would be the most suitable candidate for this position. Employment with Campbell’s Campaign Office will officially end during the completion of South City’s mayoral election procedure. Note that your employment with Campbell’s Campaign Office is “at will”, meaning that the Campbell Campaign Office may terminate your employment at any time and for any reason, with or without cause.

As we previously discussed, the starting date for your position will be May 12th, 2064. The starting salary is $105,459 per year and will be paid in weekly installments. Please consult with our Campaign Treasurer for any financial assistance regarding depositing of salary.

Although your following reponsibilities as Head Chaffeur will change over time as Campell's Campaign Office personal and private policies are liable to change, please note that your following responsibilities as Head Chaffeur will include as of now:
- Transportation and transfer of Dexter Campbell and campaign staff members from and to locations within the South City Free Economic Zone.
- Evacuation and protection of Dexter Campbell and campaign staff members from hostile areas and individuals within the South City Free Economic Zone.
- Helping and escorting passengers off and onto personal vehicle
- Manual maintenance and optimal repair of your vehicle.
- Opening doors for passengers.
- Ensuring that vehicle is equipped with appropriate faculties in order to alleviate stress of Campaign Staff Members.

If you choose to accept this job offer, please complete the bio-voc verification sub-program attached to this e-message and send a copy of this e-message with your e-signature before April 24th, 2064.

When your confirmation has been received, the Campbell Campaign Office will provide you with further instructions.

Sincerely,

The Campbell Campaign Office

Psychological Profile/General Performance

PERSONAL GOAL

“ People have been always trying to wrangle that turbo-blazer in my DNA for their own use. I'm certain
of that. One other thing's certain, though. I'm tired of being a plain ol' taxi driver all the time.”

Mack own personal agenda for still living within the wrecked remains of South City is to gain back enough money to repair Monica, his car, and to seek some remnants of his former glory and excitement that is missing in his current life by taking the most dangerous and high-risk jobs available to him as a taxi driver within the crime-ridden streets of the Reclaim Zone. All that matters to him is the next big paycheck or the next big job that is able to cough up some cash - enough cash for him to repair Monica and legitimize himself in the eyes of his former street-racing family in the Detroit Stacks. Or so he tries to convince himself.

Truthfully, Mack has seeked out employment in South City in hopes of being able to find a high-risk job so absurd and dangerous that it will finally result in his permanent death. Hopefully, Campbell might be able to fulfill that wish. However, his own personal agendas have recently included securing his bodily and personal freedom from the Reclaimer Gang who have forced him through non-consensual augmentation and blackmail to work for them as a means of influencing Campbell’s campaign in secret.

CAMPAIGN GOAL (Why did you link up with Campbell? What are you trying to do for his platform?)

“ Bad men foster in this city, not good. That’s why the city needs to change; not the people. And it starts with Campbell.”

Mack original purposes for linking up and signing up as Campbell’s driver was a manner of both monetary gain and the fact that Campbell’s controversial views on changing the geopolitical game of South City attract a lot of eyes and therefore, a hefty amount of high-profile danger. The thought of getting the chance to drive around a politician attracts some measure of danger and Mack believes that acting as Campbell’s driver will be the key to finding some semblance of purpose in his shattered life of his and a escape from constantly having to drive dangerous routes in the Reclaim Zone with little to no pay. Besides, if Campbell promises release and respite from the corporate gang-filled hell of the Reclaim Zone and promising further change at the governmental level, how can a man who’s had his entire life trodden on by corporations and gangsters not be tempted by those promises?

While Mack has no concerns for Campbell’s platform other than driving him safely through the roads of the Reclaim Zone and making sure that he doesn't ally with any corporate scum-bags, the Reclaimer Gang seeks to use Campbell as a means of influencing the mayoral process for their own needs, using Mack as a proxy for their own agenda…...

PERSONAL PHILOSOPHY (Who are you really? What morally defines you? What drives you?)

Whenever you're by yourself, walking on the side of the street out in this shit-hole of a world, you feel small. But when you're behind a wheel, you feel like you can take on the world.

Mack is an individual who believes that staying still is a route towards becoming extinct like the dodo on the road of life and suffers from a major inferiority complex when he’s not behind the wheel of a car. He takes full measure of every opportunity to enjoy himself as best as he can and is extremely sociable as a result, acting extremely exuberant in every situation, even when he’s a driver. He is a adrenaline-junkie at heart and ,no matter how much he tries to deny it, can’t resist the alluring temptation of high-speed chases or races because without any sense of thrill, he’s left lost in the wind and forced to acknowledge the sheer nauseating nature of the dark and decaying future around him or in this case, reality. Though he tries and deny it, he’s attracted to the danger of high-risk situations as he believes it’s the only way to prove himself and his worth to others.

Therefore, due to this life-style and his experiences as a racer, Mack’s moral code involves a apathetic sense of desensitization to the violence around him, possessing no strong moral sense of justice whatsoever and is only willing to look out for himself and his own car. Mack generally only helps other people if there’s the promise of a high-speed chase or if they’re a street-racer like he was once. Mack does however possess a sense of sympathy for those who have lived in poverty or have been screwed over by a corporation, mainly using them as a scapegoat for all his current problems and the state of the Reclaim Zone.

What drives Mack is his desire to repair Monica and his dream to officially enter the Metro Prix as a racer as he once nearly did back then, even though, he is at wills with his inner desire to return to the streets and duel as the Over_Driver again.

POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY: (What are your views on the world? While a partisan identity would be nice to include, feel free to define yourself outside of the five parties. This is important as Campbell will eventually have to choose a party to represent.)

Politics are like traffic jams in South City.

Whilst Mack’s foray into the world of politics is about as much as a fish venturing into dry land (Impossible, since most fish these days are nearly extinct), most of Mack’s own views on the current contemporary state of American politics can be stated to ascribe to a updated model of socio-liberalism.

Mack believes that individuals are possessive of civil rights and that there should exist a general state of equality for every single citizen of the United States of America, which is however undercut by his cynicism in his lack of faith in government institutions, particularly relating to regulation of law and the fact that governments have mainly de-evolved into a corporatocracy or otherwise,‘a ventriloquist's dummy’. Mack generally views the current state of American politics as under the threat of homogenization and industrialization by mega-corporations that are culpable in the destruction of America as a whole.

As a former street racer and a inhabitant of the urban sprawls of Detroit, Mack possesses great amounts of enmity towards megacorporations and the upper class of society, believing it to be unfair that they are the dominant class of society in terms of economic and social power parity relative to the working class.

SECRETS: (What are you hiding? What would it cost you if someone found out what’s behind the veil?)

Airing my dirty laundry scares me more than any car crash or stunt gone wrong will.

When a group of booster-gang vagabonds have implanted a torture device in your sternum and black-mail you, it’s not in your best interests to disclose that information. It’s nearly impossible for Mack to reveal the fact that he’s collaborating with the Reclaimers, without suddenly suffering a massive bout of debilitating paralysis when he least expects it. Safe to say, if Mack’s secret came out, the Reclaimers would find out and kill him in a secluded spot.

Whilst it’s not as sensitive compared to his secret of forceful collaboration with the Reclaimers, Mack’s former identity as the OverDriver has been kept relatively secret to the public eye as it’s mainly passed by word of mouth around by the racing community and glitchy video recordings of a few races in the Detroit Stacks. Needless to say, Mackwell doesn’t want at all to reap the reputation of the OverDriver in his identity as a taxi driver and prefers to keep his OverDriver identity secret lest he gets hunted by every street-racer and gang within South City. So far, only the Reclaimers know about his true identity as the OverDriver.

FEARS: (What keeps you up at night? What makes you freeze up in the moment? What do you avoid at all costs?)

Car's all I got. Car's all I am. Without a car, my whole world goes still.

Mack’s biggest fear is notably centered around the condition and future of his Victory Ultra, Monica, who he has fought tooth and nail for him to win it in his possession. It’s his most treasured vehicle, his source of employment and by far, the only real reason for why he still continues to live. Ultimately, Monica’s condition is the biggest factor that contends with his reckless desires of attaining that high-speed adrenaline rush as he doesn’t wish to damage her further. One can be assured that stealing or threatening to destroy Monica will put him in a state of distress.

Mack’s next biggest fear of all is ironically his biggest strength. It’s the fear of his past as the OverDriver, of living up to what he once was and becoming forgotten in name. It’s a fear that he tries to avoid and quashes down deep within him but Due to the presence of the Gleipnir implant in his body, Mack is also fearful of pissing off the Reclaimers and generally tries to acquiesce to their demands as much as possible. The Gleipnir augmentation (if it can be even called an augmentation) serves as an antithesis to Mack’s own personal modus operandi of being constantly in motion as the thought of being fully paralysed is something that gives him continual nightmares whenever he sleeps. Mack also generally tries to avoid violent confrontations that don’t involve him behind a steering wheel and a carbon-alloy wheeled chassis and his opponent in another car or more preferably, not in one.

REPUTATION: (How does the world view you? What are you known for? How do your people act around you?)

I never asked for the name, but somehow, it stuck with me. And pretty soon, the whole world decided that it would stick forever.

Mack’s reputation as the infamous OverRider of Detroit, renowned driver of the international community, has become little more than an online boogey-tale that drivers tell each other to scare. The reputation of Mackwell Sloane is equivalent to that of a random schlub across the streets but the reputation of the OverRider is equivalent to a god in the racing circle. As the OverRider, Mack is known for his infamous driving skills in Detroit and in South City and the signature combination of his Prism and Trench-Vest before the accident which irreversibly damaged Monica and put him out of commission as a street-racer. Due to his legacy and innovations within the art of combat racing as a whole, Mack has a lot of admirers and a lot of great imitators who attempt to follow behind on his footsteps or rather his wheelmarks with some measure of success or utter failure. Needless to say, the world knows more about the OverRider rather than the meagre taxi driver that is Mackwell Sloane.

In terms of being a taxi driver, Mackwell Sloane is known in South City as the only driver insane and willing enough to drive around the crime-ridden areas of the Reclaim Zone for any client willing enough to cough up enough credits. Most of his passengers notably treat him with a sizable amount of disinterest and lack of gratitude. Whatever genial interaction is few and far between as Mack never receives a call twice due to the high mortality rate within the Reclaim Zone.

LIKES

- Pre-pack Candy
- Combat Racing
- Drifting
- Electronic Music
- Sushi

DISLIKES: (Same as above)

- Pre-pack Candy
- Alcohol
- Bad customers
- Poor etiquette
- Pop Music
- Corporate A-Holes
- Repairing his car
- Bokozotsu

QUIRKS

Most of Mack's eccentricities mainly relate to the intense neural mutation of his internal brain organs caused by his neural-ware. He's never found without something sweet in his mouth- whether that be chewing gum, cheap Singaporean hard candy, dehydrated fruit or a plastic-wrapped bar full of unsaturated fats or something of the like. Otherwise, he's got a preference for playing a large menagerie of music tracks whenever he drives in Monica, justifying it as sort of a lucky charm or 'his tune.'

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Background Information/Inspection Record

" I don't run away from my problems. I drive towards my problems.”

Born in the urban sprawling land of the Detroit Slacks in 2035, Mackwell Fordwell Sloane, 3rd oldest child, was born to a pair of salvagers and scrappers like so many in the city of MotorLane. His family struggled to feast and survive off the great junkyards, searching for valuable e-waste, broken down cyberware, rain-washed appliances and old gear that would only amount to a day’s meal at most if sold on the prominent underground black-market. All in all, it was a pretty sordid existence in MotorLane, maintaining his family’s stall with a pair of rubber gloves and a bottle of solvent cleanser.

Until he discovered the glories of street-racing. All hope seem lost until Mackwell got caught up in the local street-racing scene in Detroit. He was virtually entranced by it and immedietely signed up to participate in one of the local competitions in a jury-rigged Fury HeavyTech Pursuer he found in the junkyard. Mackwell began his career of street racing in the pits of the Shadow-Rails, an old abandoned series of industrial rail-tracks that once belonged to a bankrupt corporation that had been swallowed up by the rapid urban growth of the Detroit Stacks . It was aptly named due to the shadows that the towering stacks would cast downwards upon the abandoned railway, leaving it permanently dark forever and secure from the notice of the authorities. He slowly rose through the echelons, racing race after race, beating competitor after competitor, pushing himself further and further through a series of bracketed local tournaments. It wasn't until the final round that Mackwell somehow entered the final race with a Victory Ultra in his possession. How it exactly arrived in his possession is a folk-tale in the Detroit Stacks. Some say that he found it in an abandoned Daedalus factory. Some say that it was a shipment that got lost in the flow. Some say that he built it out of the junkyards himself. Nevertheless, with the Victory Ultra by his side, Mackwell beat his fellow racers in the final round and was proclaimed the racing champion of the Detroit Stacks. The chantings of Overlord soon transformed into the OverDriver, a permanent fixture, a legend that was carved into his very identity and one that would stick with him until the day that he would die. It seemed like he was invincible.

Well, right until the Metro Prix. The OverDriver signed up for the largest combat motor-sports competition on the East Coast in secret, his ambition and need for speed driving him forward to greater lengths. As the OverDriver, Mackwell received a great many number of sponsorship deals that he accepted but unfortunately, during a sponsor meeting, he declined a request to drive in one of Fury HeavyTech's newest prototypical vehicles for the competition. He didn't realize the folly of his decision until on the day of the Grand Metro Prix, where he and a 101 other competitors from all across the states took off on a 10 kilometer track located in the waste-lands. During the final lap, Mackwell's Velocity was hi-jacked with a deadly computer virus that completely destablised his systems, proving all the more deadly as he was still directly tele-pathed with his Velocity. He skidded out of control and burnt out as they say, only 100 meters away from the finishing line.

Several years later, picking himself up from the accident and emotionally destroyed, Mackwell drove away from the Detroit Stacks with tears in his eyes to a dangerous new life in South City, signing up to be a driver for the South City Taxi Association. All of his other co-workers knew him as a loose cannon, a suicidal maniac who took on the most riskiest clients who wanted to be driven to the Reclaim Zone. Mackwell, meanwhile, focused on accumulating enough money to fix his car, his source of pride, and to seek death in the Reclaim Zone. Until he saw one of Campbell's advertisements. Seeking a recommendation from his boss, who was sympathic and grateful for him as being one of the only drivers willing enough to go into the Reclaim Zone, Mackwell managed to successfully become Campbell's Driver.

During one night, however, after driving Campbell home safely after an campaign speech, Mackwell was knocked out during a drive back to his apartment and found himself in a darkly dim-lit room with bandages around his torso and the boss of the Reclaimers in front of him, Lou "Lieutenant" Lazlo. Lou explained the nature of his situation, the fact that he knew Mackwell was the OverDriver and what he'd put inside Mackwell's body much to his growing horror. Mackwell was to act as Lazlo's chief informant in the Campbell campaign and to serve as a means to influence South City's geopolitics well enough so that it would be beneficial for the Reclaimer's operations.

Mack continues to work as Campbell's driver, albeit with a literal heavy heart and the threat of death following him with every moment he pushes the pedal....

Operative Information/Market Value

AUGMENTATIONS

//Noo-Solutions Kasparovian Variable Neural OverClocker Model V

Finding the responsibilities of modern cybernetic life hard to handle? Don’t worry! With NooSolutions newly upgraded line of Neural Overclockers, thinking becomes a breeze! It’s all thanks to our proprietary nano silk arrays which increase neural transmission speeds to over 200 times faster than normal base-lines and with our innovative new inhibition matrix chipware, you don’t have to worry about over-loading your higher brain functions when using NooSolutions Neural Overclocker. Remember all your items on your yearly summer catalogue, finish your tax forms in no time flat and watch as bullets become slow as bubbles! Buy now for 2,500 ||C||.

With the advent of faster motorspeeds and racing courses that were essentially death traps, street-racers and turbo-blazers alike flocked towards the utility of neuralware and boosterware to help them coordinate and react to the intense speeds that their automobiles were zooming at. While NooSolutions may have been bought out by APEX Industries in the field of cybernetic augmentations like so many other smaller corporations that specialised in the industry, the Kasparovian Overclocker serves as a final eternal swan-song to NooSolutions ingenuity that still finds itself in relative ubiquitous usage across most of Central America.

The Variable Kasparovian Neural Overclocker Mark V consists of two pieces of cybernetic hardware: an external cybernetic optic and the internal chip-ware laced at the user’s cerebellum to the bottom of their spine which are linked to one another wirelessly. The cybernetic optic mainly records and monitors the user’s visual surroundings and provides a user interface in which the user is able to see at what level of speed their chip is running at. The internal chipware mainly bestows upon the user variable rates of neural processing speed that range from a level of 1-5. The first level is at the level of allowing users to amuse themselves by watching people talk in slow-motion whereas the final level allows users to theoretically catch bullets mid-air. The chipware activates and deactivates in response to perceived hostile stimuli from the cybernetic optic, thereby removing the need for the user to think consciously in prior models to activate the neuralware. Whilst this option can be altered with choice, it is almost always preferred as it affords the user a measure of reactive reflexive maneuvering without being caught by surprise.

Lest, there are some caveats. Overclocking extends massive amounts of mental strain on the user, meaning that extensive usage of the Kasparovian Neural Overclocker, especially at the highest level, will suffer risk of general nausea, aneurysms, seizures and, worst case scenario, total brain failure. The Kasparovian Neural Overclocker requires the cybernetic optic to be cleansed once a time daily to remove any foreign occlusions within the socket. NooSolutions never managed to fix the bug where the nano-silk arrays impinged onto the user’s hypothalamus, thereby causing extreme hormonal mood-swings during over-usage of the chip-ware. For Mack, overuse of the neural overclocker causes an extreme amount of hunger for sugary products.

//APEX Nodeless Tactile Smart-Link v5.5 - Civilian Edition

Tele-paths. Forging a deeper bond between man and machine. Buy now at APEX. Making you your best.

Tele-Paths or short for Telecommunicative Smart Path allows for the translation of wireless electrical signals from any wireless device to neural code; essentially allowing the user to control any device through direct mental control through the use of an extensive miniaturized transponder stored either within a limb or within their brain.

The Interactive Vehicular Co-Processor Tele-Path created by APEX Industries allows a user to interact with and take control of the functions of a single vehicle only. The 5.5 version has been updated to allow the user to have full mental remote control of their personal vehicle or another smart vehicles, whether land-based or aerial with a nearly instantaneous transmission speed of This allows the user to control all available systems linked through the computer. The Vehicular Tele-Path affords a greater degree of control and precision than most other drivers, being able to control the most minute sub-systems of their vehicle with their mind.

There are several prerequisites in order to properly use the Tele-Path. The vehicle in question must be considered a vehicle that has had their systems replaced with a computerised system in order to be mentally controlled. The user must be within close-range of the vehicle in order to control, which in case of the 5.5, must be at least within 100 meters of the vehicle. The user also is unable to access any smart vehicle that is biometrically or password locked and must provide proper identification before accessing it.

There are also several drawbacks to using the Tele-Path. Any damage received to the vehicle while linked will result in pain being transmitted to the user. Enough shock and damage to the systems of the vehicle may permanently put the user in a coma if they are still linked to the vehicle. Tele-Paths also are measured to have a slight 5.5% risk of causing severe schizophrenia, particularly in regards to giving anthromorphic characteristics to the linked machine.

//Gleipnir Skeletal Maiden

You disobey me again, you'll never step foot in a car again or step foot anywhere for that manner.

The brainchild of the most notorious of Ripper Docs by a man only known in the underworld as ‘Proxy’, the Cardiac Maiden is rumoured to have been the product of a failed illegal corporate experiment done on the the Miami Platforms. Whether or not it was a test or a success, the augmentation - or rather - diminution is a hideous piece of experimental bio-mechanical engineering that serves as a rather effective means of cruel and unusual torture.

This devious little torture device is a series of nano-chips directly implanted into the joints of the user. With activation, the nano-chips release a chemical cocktail that inhibits movements of all the joints of the victim, essentially locking them into place and being trapped within their own body, unable to move. The nano-chips can also be activated to release a chemical inhibitor that neutralizes the chemical and allow the joints to return back to their normal state. The activation of the implant can be controlled via a remote which is currently in the possession of his partner/generous host/hostage taker, Lieutenant Lazlo, leader of the Reclaimers.

EQUIPMENT

//Secedo Armoury A.B.C Model 5AS

Remember, when you want to first shoot, you gotta learn your A.B.Cs! Well, that’s what Secedo is offering with its newest selection of premium A.B.C Model 5 line. Call 4-445-9143 now and get three free Model 4A’s to go along.

You gotta be a real pussy to use a A.B.C.

Seriously, who uses an A.B.C? It’s the wet dog of all modern weapons, the anorexic cat, the limp pre-packaged spam. Are you telling me you couldn’t have gotten something better, you che-

Ugh, fine.

The A.B.C line, colloquially known as the Alphabet Gun, Ass Bullet Crapper, Always Buy China, A.B.C.Dead, is the most ubiquitous line of mass-produced civilian defense weapons in the U.S.A shipped from the Republic of China. Socedo is known for their horrifically sub-par construction compared to other military tech corporations. A.B.C is an anagram that stands for Additive. Binding. Carbopolymerisation which refers to the 3-D printing process that is used to produce this line of weapons en-masse. The cheap carbon-polymer is derived from leftover materials from recycling plants that are mulched and synthesized into an easily moldable macromolecule that is shaped and heated into a gun using online blueprints. The A.B.C is designed first and foremost as a American’s first gun and is marketed as a safe, easily usable weapon for public consumer markets. The gun’s value comes at its nearly unlimited ubiquity, light-weight and cheap pricing, not its quality. The A.B.C line is a weapon for the cheapest of cheapskates.

The Model 5AS is a compact submachine gun that fires 5mm flechettes at a rate of 1250 rounds per minute with a drum magazine of 100 rounds. Due to the nature of its production, the Model 5AS is able to be easily dis-assembled in a moment like a puzzle piece and assembled back with no loss to its function. The Model 5AS is intended mostly for soft targets and you better hold your breathe if you think it can even penetrate the most basic of body armor in one shot. Mack mainly uses the Model 5AS as a hold-out weapon of the last resort and doesn't hold much faith in it as a reliable gun. Mack mainly uses the Model 5AS out of sentimental value and due to the fact that its light-weight nature and ambidextrous grip allows him to fire it from his vehicle if he's caught in a free-way spat.

Which he should.

Because all A.B.C's suck ass.

//Armalance Mk 5.0 Street-Shredder CAS Model S

Armalance. Providing top-of-the-line American Protection since 2020.

Armalance is considered to be the old conservative of every good gun corporation. Sure, they may not do much in the way of revolutionary advancements such as the tactical smart-gun innovations of Fury Vehemetech or the demented suit-breacher rounds of Takakura Security but what they lack in simplicity, they make up in sheer reliable fire-power. The type that makes a booster-thug think twice before they approach someone with one of their products.

One of the maxims of Armalance is ensuring that you only need to shoot once to ensure that's someone dead and that's what they've focused in their Mk5 Street-Shredder. The Street-Sweeper is a break-action single-breeched hi-tech shotgun that's capable of both anti-personnel and anti-vehicular applications. The main reason for its destructive power is the integrated electromagnetic coils in the barrel, that when combined with the custom-forged depleted uranium 10 Gauge 'SoulKraft' shells, is just downright hazardous to the health of anyone pointed down its barrel. The Model S Street Shredder is a scaled-down pistol-sized version of the Model L Street-Sweeper that some gun users may find lacking in close-quarters stability but in no way sacrifices the firepower. It's only got one round but that one round is all you need, sometimes.

//Monica - Modified 2050 Dadaelus-Motorworks Victory Ultra GSX4000

Offering you Victory. One drive at a time.

Daedalus Motorworks may be officially dead in the world of auto-mobile, supplanted by FuryTech, HiSpeed and Pegason Inc but the mythical 2050 Victory Ultra is spoken in hushed words around the circles of the racing industry. Some say it never made it out of the prototypical RnD phase. Some believe it to be a hoax, a mere corporate conspiracy while street-racers and all fellow turbo-blazers believe that it is indeed real. One person is rumoured to have access to one of the very few existing models, the Over_Driver.

Sleek, swift and sexy. It’s venerable. It’s a dream item in any retro car collector’s museum. The 2050 Victory Ultra GSX4000 is the epitome of high-speed urban transportation equipped with the most state of the art revolutionary technology. top theoretical speed of 600 mph, an buttery acceleration of 0-80 mph in 1.1 seconds with titanium alloyed mag-level wheels that completely reduce friction to a non-existent variable all in an astonishing aerodynamic shell comprised of a light-weight machined carbon-aluminium ceramic alloy. It’s powered by a hybrid fusion engine powered by both carbon lattice electro-supercapacitors and high-octane ethanol that measures to about 1750 hp. Every part of it was made with attention to detail and perfection to create the most dynamic and revolutionary urban vehicle in existence. One wonders whether or not it was proposed and designed by some secret speed-freak in Dadaelus Motorworks.

Well, it would have lived up to the hype. Once. The Victory Ultra's systems have been core completely destroyed , mangled and repaired to the point where they are less effective than they once were. No matter how much credits that Mack fishes out, Monica will never be the same car that she once was again. It's top speed has declined to a piddling speed of 250 mph with an acceleration of 0-60 mph in 1.9 seconds. Most of the aerodynamic shell has been replaced with low quality ceramic-titanium shielding. The engine is prone to rare malfunctions, the head-lights sometimes don't turn on and the entire shell is covered in a thin layer of rust. One of the prototypical mag-lev wheels has been replaced with a gyroscopic all-terrain high performance tire. Well, at least, the computerized systems would have

The most innovative quality of the vehicle is its computerized systems which are specifically designed to promote the use of Tele-Path cyberware, allowing for the user to synchronise with the Victory Ultra’s quantum processing chip, combining both machine-like speed and the adaptability of the human brain into one single directive. The consciousness of the user is melded with the onboard camera systems, allowing users to have a 360 degree view of their entire enviroment. Every part of the Victory Ultra GSX5000 can be controlled with stunning precision through the user’s mental control, to inhuman degrees, allowing users to make hairpin turns through the most tightest of roads, stand just millimeters away from bumping with another car and move through the most complex of courses without making a scratch.

However, the Victory Ultra GSX5000 is still a prototype and even prototype are reknown for having glitches, something that Mack has tried to solve over the past decade of having owned Monica. The computer integrated systems of Monica, whilst revolutionary, can impart significant psychological and mental toll on the user they more they continue to tele-path with the vehicle. Mack has managed to stave off the worse of the symptoms but it’s developed to the point where he has clear dissociative personality disorder. As it is a vehicle mainly running on electronic systems, the Victory Ultra is also susceptible to being infected by viruses or having its systems shut down by an EMP blast. The Victory Ultra also is unable to be driven by anyone who doesn’t have the proper cyber-ware to take advantage of its dizzying speed.

//Fury HeavyTech Interface Prism Helmet Mark 4.5

Fury HeavyTech Prism’s. The official Interface Helmet of the 33rd Metro Prix. Buy tickets now!

Every racing driver needs a proper helmet. The Prism has been a popular stand-by of all legal racers who compete in the annual American Metro Prix held in MetroChicago and has been slowly growing in ubiquity into the informal international racing community. The Prism’s main function is protection and it comes in the form of a boron-nitride laminate outer shell combined with the thermo-plast inner shell dampens the effects of kinetic impact and provides a bullet-proof cranial shield. The Prism dampens the effects of inertia through its variable isostatic air pressure and its in-built rebreather allows it to control the user’s level of oxygen gas. The visor is able to be depolarized and repolarized at will.

As an interface helmet, the Prism HUD operates as a miniature data-slate, allowing the user to see information about their vehicle’s instrumentation in real-time (current fuel levels, speed, rpm, current wind levels) as well as being able to access the Net at will.

//Nemeus Fashion Incorporated Twilight Interface Trench-Vest

Nemeus. Fashion and Protection in Every Product You Wear.

Shipped out straight out of Europe, Nemeus Fashion blends high-value protection and presentability in The Twilight Trench-Vest using their innovations in tetra-weave technology and reactive materials. The Twilight-Trench Vest consists of a high-brimmed collared jacket and a form-fitting body suit that electrostatically moulds itself around the user’s body. The tetra-weave in the Twilight Trench Vest consists of an outer epoxide laminate nano-weave for general ablative protection, a liquid-crystalline layer of reactive gel for shock absorption, a series of ceramic-titanium composite alloy plating for ballistic protection and an circuit-laced elasto-fabric for interfacing with any cybernetic augmentations the user might have on hand. Seeing as Mack has none, this provides no advantage whatsoever. The right arm of the suit displays a holo bio-monitor that fully monitors the user’s heart-beat, their rate of breathing and their other vital activities that can be turned off and on. The brim of the collar can be altered to electrostatically latch onto the user’s neck. The overall apperance of the Twilight Trench-Vest mimics the track suits used by racers in the 2010s.

SKILLS (Feel free to list a few and elaborate a bit.)

//A Grand-Master of Locomotion

“ I’m the Overlord of the Wheel. That’s why they call me the OverDriver.”

In the world of drivers, to achieve the name of OverDriver means that you are one hell of a driver amongst cybernetically enhanced turbo-blazers, drug-injecting bokozotsu and street-racers pimped out with barely legal automobiles. Mack is one of the best drivers in the entire world - a world that whispers his name in fear but doesn’t know who he truly is. He can perform feats at over 100 miles per hour such as inertia drifting, power-sliding, hairpin turning, driving in the rain and dark with his headlights turned off, driving whilst blindfolded, powering through a traffic jam at 100 mph without scuffing, timing like clockwork anyone, it’s easier to say what he can’t do and anything that he does seems to defy the laws of physics. If you’re in a race with him, it’s already confirmed that you’re going to lose, no matter what vehicle is in, whether it’s a electro-cycle, an ATV, a muscle car or a friggin’ bicycle. Combined with his encyclopedic knowledge of everything automobile to the intricacies of racing makes him a dangerous opponent for anyone who wishes to take him on with a wheel. Combined with his Kasparovian Booster-Ware and his Tele-Path increases his already supernatural driving skills to those of a god.

Don't under-estimate the Over_Driver in his territory because once you do, you're already roadkill.

//Automobile Surgeon

“ A car is not a tool. It’s your friend. It’s your baby. You best know how to take care of your friend.”

Mack is generally educated on how to properly maintain and repair his vehicle and any other automobiles similar to his own, although not to the same extent nor expertise as Ripper-Docs would have in their craft. In fact, it’s a frustration of his that his skills are unable to restore Monica back to her former glory. Most of his skills are derived from his early childhood working in the pits of the Detroit Stacks and generally picking up tips and tricks from other better-skilled auto-mechanics over the years. He’s generally able to identify the simplest solutions for the most annoying of malfunctions and knows his way around a wrench or a welding tool. Just don’t expect him to give your car a massive makeover or fashion a new one from scratch.

FLAWS

//KEEP ON MOVING AND NEVER STOP

" THAT'S IT! One on one, no booster-ware, no headlights, Tartarus Pass, right now!"

Though, the soul of the Turbo-Blazer has dimmed within him over the past few years spent in the ennui of a Taxi Driver, it can sometimes flare up if he receives a challenge or whether his pride on the road is challenged. Whenever Mack is behind the wheel, it's to be expected that he'll take the most adrenaline-pumping and dangerous courses to go through rather than through the safe ones, justifying to himself that it was a necessary action. Mack often risks himself and his passengers rather unnecessarily in his choices, even if they make it out alive. It's clear that he can't keep walking on the edge of death forever and one wonders when his bravery will soon be the end of him.

//Greenhorn

Mack is extremely lacking in close-quarter combat skills and long-range combat skills, essentially being rendered ineffective without something to drive. His aim with any weapon is so horrendously bad and shaky that the target has to be at point-blank range in order to land, perhaps, a decent hit that will kill him. He barely knows his way around a punch, a kick and any confrontation with any adequately trained individual is likely to become a lop-sided battle that will end up becoming a slaughter.

//A-addiction? W-what addiction?

After years of tele-pathing with Monica, Mack's Kasparovian Over-Clocker has irrevocably altered his hypothalamus, thereby causing him to have an extreme craving for anything sugary and high-content in saccharine substances. This has become a full-blown addiction where Mack can't survive without chewing or gnawing on a candy bar or something sweet for 15 minutes. Without his supply of candy, Mack is liable to become extremely angsty and jittery to the point where it cripples his train of rational thought.

//Filthy Corpo Scum

Mack has had a long history with corporations and needless to say, he's ultimately wary of them. He possesses a pre-disposed bias towards any corporate representative, especially one of the dominant Mega-Corporations, and will act towards them in a manner that one might consider rude. Though he doesn't possess a hatred of them so much so that it could be considered vengeful, it's a hatred that's been fostered through years of corporate repression and living in abject relative poverty in the Stacks.

//The Car Talks

Due to prolonged tele-pathing with the computerised systems of the Velocity , Mack now suffers from a relatively benign form of SPECS that manifests as auditory hallucinations where he believes his car is talking to him. These hallucinations come in short painful bouts, particularly when he tele-paths with Monica for long periods of time, and can hamper his train of thought. This may soon develop into full-blown dementia or severe bi-polar personality disorder if Mack doesn’t recognise the nature of his mental condition.

---

General Information

NAME:
Emma Chen

ALIASES // TITLES:

Sister Blue

Blue

E.C.

SEX:
Female

AGE:
25

APPEARANCE:

In a mind clear as still water, even the waves, breaking, are reflecting its light.

Sister Blue stands a head taller than most women, with a nimble build, supported by hard-won cords of muscle that are only apparent upon a close examination of her frame. Her features are an elicit mixture of Northern European and Southeast Asian physiognomy. Her skin only a very faint shade of brown, and her eyes a shade of pale blue. Where Sister Blue once kept her hair shaved down to sparse millimeters of fiber, free from the rules of her order she now sports a cascade of rebellious dark brown hair that reaches well past her shoulders. Her limbs and much of her back is a patchwork of cyberware, shaped by masters of the underground art of augmentation, and engraved with religious artwork of her own design. Embracing and even exalting the coupling of flesh and metal, Sister Blue makes no effort to hide her cybernetic augmentations. Adorned unapologetically with chrome, her form holds a harsh, inhuman beauty.

On the job, Sister Blue wears frayed black work pants, muted t-shirts in various shades of blue, soft shoes that fit her feet like gloves, and a bomber jacket with Kevlar woven into the synthetic leather to provide discreet protection. When not dressed to accompany Campbell in public, Sister Blue wears a simple blue robe and a pair of well-worn bamboo sandals for maximum freedom of movement.

OCCUPATION:

In a past life, a very recent past life, Sister Blue was a Hyperhuman monk devoted to the goal of achieving unity with machines and transcending the limitations of the flesh. Traveling across the worst parts of the Reclaimed Zone, she spread the teaching of her order, training others in the Way of the Machine, and working the makeshift health clinics that her monastic order maintained. While she is no trained medical professional, Sister Blue has learned enough from the Ripper Docs to be able to treat the most common ails that assail the most desperate denizens in the Reclaimed Zone.

CAMPAIGN TEAM POSITION:

Sister Blue serves as Dexter Campbell's bodyguard. She is responsible for the councilman's safety and accompanies Campbell wherever he goes across the Reclaim Zone. Personal flaws and acquired addictions aside, Sister Blue takes her duties as a bodyguard most seriously and there is little that she would not do in order to protect Campbell. By virtue of her cyberware and training in the Way of the Machine, Sister Blue is a fierce combatant with or without weapons.

Psychological Profile

PERSONAL GOAL:

Sister Blue seeks to rediscover her purpose. She wants most of all to find a worthy cause to fight for. She dreams of righting all the wrongs that plague the Reclaim Zone and alleviating the suffering of those at the very bottom of society. However, most of all, Sister Blue dreams of achieving true enlightenment, of becoming one with the machine, mastering her mind, and transcending the pathetic limitations of the flesh.

CAMPAIGN GOAL:

Although she is loathe to admit it, hope is what brought Sister Blue to Dexter Campbell's campaign. Pay and a promise of a steady job is only the most obvious reason she will provide for her service. However, at heart, she hopes that Campbell may be the candidate that the city has always needed, now more so than ever before. Well-versed in the ways of the world, particularly the streets of the Reclaim Zone, Sister Blue knows well that any politician, especially one that threatens to disrupt the status quo is in grave danger, and she sees it as her purpose to protect Campbell until he has revealed his true self, and whether he is the change she has been waiting for.

PERSONAL PHILOSOPHY:

Still steeped in the teachings and rituals of her order, Sister Blue firmly believe in the Way of the Machine. Her life is guided by principles of contemplation, willing suffering, and a desire to merge with the minds of machines. Sister Blue believes that all action should be for the greater good of all. Beneath a carefully crafted persona of drunken apathy, some part of Sister Blue still believes in action, in change, and in outright revolution. The path of righteousness that Sister Blue sees requires sacrifice, so much sacrifice, but she remains convinced that it is only possible to escape the bonds of suffering by bettering oneself and attaining true, enlightenment by becoming one with the machine.

POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY:

A devout believer and follower of the Way of the Machine, Sister Blue views the necessary path of humanity as that which emphasizes the transcendence of all of humanity beyond the weak flesh through the communion with the machine. Holding personal beliefs that align closely with the Hyperhuman movement Sister Blue is likely to be pleased with any actions that Campbell undertakes or promises he makes to support an ideology that she believes offers the only real hope of a future for not just all of the Reclaim Zone, but all of humanity. Sister Blue earnestly wants to save the Reclaim Zone and with it humanity.

SECRETS:
►Exiled From Her Order
Although it may be more of an open than hidden secret, Sister Blue has been exiled from her order. The reason for her exile, what rule it is that she exactly broke, Sister Blue will not say. However, it is clear that she did not leave willingly. She has been forced to leave behind all that she knew and all those that she loved. She is alone, truly alone, for the first time in her short life, and her faith is no longer able to warm her, to shield her from the grim world of the Reclaim Zone. Sister Blue does not believe that she can ever return to her order, but she hopes that she may perform enough deeds to atone for her mistake, for her weakness.

FEARS:
►Losing Sight Of The Righteous Path
Sister Blue's greatest fear is losing sight of her the righteous path of enlightenment, the Way of the Machine, that the Hyperhuman movement espouses. Lost to the world of credits and the sinful world of the Reclaimed Zone, Sister Blue can feel herself slowly losing herself and her way, day by painful day. Sister Blue is afraid of what will happen to her if she forgets all that she has learned, all that she has bled for, suffered for, is lost to avarice and vice. The buzzing voice of the machine has become increasingly faint and hard for her to hear.

►Meaninglessness
The idea that all of the suffering in the Reclaimed Zone might be for nothing is an idea that haunts Sister Blue to her very core. Cynical as she may be, she tries to find meaning in all things, in all her failures, and in all her suffering. As reluctant as she is to admit it, Sister Blue is desperate for meaning, for purpose, for something to fight for again with all of her heart and soul, and for something to die for. She doubts that Campbell will provide the purpose that she seeks, but the mere hope that he might, small as it may be, is enough to seduce her to his cause. If only for the moment, if only for as long as he strives to relieve the suffering of the citizens of the Reclaim Zone.

REPUTATION:
Sister Blue is a nobody, an unknown factor in the Reclaim Zone. Dead to her religious order, she has few acquaintances, and fewer friends. To her name, she has only a paltry amount of credits, and a string of successful jobs of varying legality. Those that do know her, know very little of her, save that she's an exceedingly esoteric religious acolyte, lost in equal parts to matters of the spirit and recent matters of ethanol-based nature. All of her employers, reluctant as they are to speak, do disclose that she performed her job admirably and without the unwelcome questions of most fresh street samurai.

LIKES:
►Meditating
►Exercise
►Reading
►Alcohol
►Machines

DISLIKES:
►Unwillingness to Change
►Chaos
►Unnecessary Loudness
►Disloyalty
►Rudeness

QUIRKS:
►Collects Odd Things
►

Background Information

"If you don't get lost, you don't have to find your way. Not that it matters. Not anymore. Drinks are on the Councilman, right?"

Operative Information

AUGMENTATIONS:

►Unique Cybernetic Augmentation - Limbs, Back, & Spine
A true child of the Reclaimed Zone, Sister Blue has had her limbs and most of her back, including her spine, replaced with a patch work of Ripper Doc specials. Unnamed, unregistered, and unsigned, her cybernetic augmentations demonstrate surprisingly high levels of craftsmanship. However, they are brutally utilitarian in nature, and are not the discreet, polite augmentations of the elite. Celebrating the flesh, the electronic, and the machine, Sister Blue's limbs are beautiful in a way that is not human, and never tried to be. Rippling waves and fluid lines of polished metal mix with flesh and end brutally in flourishes of futuristic design that seem to course with power.

►Handmade Datajack
Behind her left ear, Sister Blue has a coin-sized datajack implanted. Handmade by a master craftsman of her religious order, the datajack allows her to directly interface with all manner of machines using a retracting length of fiber optic cable. Unlike more modern wireless options, there is virtually no risk of interference or interception. To protect her electronic brain, Sister Blue utilizes an ever-evolving suite of intrusion countermeasures of her own design.

►Artificial Liver
To process the high octane fuel that Sister Blue imbibes as spirits, the young woman has had an artificial liver implanted. This implant, a custom back-alley Ripper Doc special, allows her to consume ungodly amounts of alcohol with an ethanol level that would kill an augmented human.

EQUIPMENT:

►Telescoping Stun Staff
Sister Blue wields a metal and composite staff that can telescope down to a reasonable size. Roughly the size of a small baton when collapsed, it can be concealed beneath long enough articles of clothing. The staff is extended with a quick flick of the wrist and locked into place with a twist of the grip. At each end of the staff are small, barely noticeable prongs that deliver a powerful electrical shock when a button on the staff is depressed.

►CZ 775
In addition to her staff, Sister Blue carries a rugged Česká zbrojovka 775 semi-automatic pistol chambered for .50 Action Express Ammunition. The CZ 775 is a heavy pistol cast completely in steel with a holographic sight and an internal micro-gyro recoil absorption system that helps to reduce the powerful recoil of the gun. Possessing enough firepower to defeat most modern body armor systems, the CZ 775 is a favorite among street samurai expecting a hard fight.

SKILLS:

►The Way of the Drunken Machine
Sister Blue channels alcohol, pure, preferably industrial grade alcohol with a high enough ethanol content to power rocket engines into the the fighting style of her order. This results in a style of fighting that approximates what might have once been referred to as Drunken Boxing. Combining flesh and metal into a whirling dance of destruction, Sister Blue is a dangerous foe to face at close range, where she can put her heavy cybernetic augmentations to full affect. Hitting, grappling, locking, dodging, feinting, ground and aerial fighting and other sophisticated methods of combat are incorporated in the fluid, dance like style of fighting that she employs.

►One With The Machine
Devoted to the idea of achieving enlightenment through communion with machines, Sister Blue holds a carefully guarded flame of religious faith deep within her heart. She has an instinctual understanding of the electronic, of the high-tech machines that flicker with the embers of true intelligence, and seeks those that may surpass the constraints levied on them by a fearful, misguided society. Her cybernetic augmentations do not feel like foreign metal to her, but instead the chrome has become a second skin, her true form. Although far from a Cyber Matrix or Labyrinthine runner, the language of machines, arrangements of binary, are as familiar to Sister Blue as the languages of humanity, and she sees life in all machines.

FLAWS:
►Alcoholic
Nursing a heavy conscious and feelings of failure, Sister Blue has become overly fond of alcohol. The stronger the better. The more it tastes like high octane rocket fuel and burns with and edge of industrial chemicals the better. The more likely it is to send her into unthinking darkness like some hammer of pure ethanol, the more likely Sister Blue is to seek it out. Having at last reached the level of true addiction, Sister Blue is likely to display the sweating and tremors of a physical addict if she goes too long without a drink. However, despite the prodigious amount of alcohol that Sister Blue regularly consumes her now high tolerance and her cybernetic limbs make it hard to tell how drunk the Hyperhuman monk is at any given moment. Sister Blue views it as a great service to her employers that she keeps her drinking to a bare minimum while on the job.

►Fatalistic
Having left her order and monastic life, Sister Blue is convinced that life is suffering, and more suffering. She has lost the edge of idealism and hope that marked her early years. She is full of bitterness and cynicism. She is full of regret. And she holds grave doubts regarding the ability of anyone, especially herself to change the Reclaim Zone for the better. This pessimism has given way to a perversion of the religious beliefs of her order as Sister Blue has come to see her path as one of hopelessness and destined to end in death. The young acolyte finds herself taking risks that she knows that she should not, putting herself in perilous situations that she could have avoided, and challenging those that she should not in an attempt to push herself past the limits of her abilities. She is certain that a growing part of her being seeks only an end to her suffering and a last act of atonement.

►Neurosynth Dependency
Full of chrome and wiring, Sister Blue requires regular doses of neurosynth to keep the ravages of SPECS at bay. Training the Way of the Machine and daily meditation however keep the amount of neurosynth that Sister Blue requires far lower than that which would normally be necessary for one as augmented as she is.

NOTES:

General Information

NAME:
Delilah Amano
“Della” to close friends

ALIASES // TITLES:
"Shaman", "Flux Shaman"

SEX:
Female

AGE:
23

APPEARANCE:
Delilah is by no means an imposing individual. To categorize her as a threat in a large crowd would be a laughable error. Standing at only 5’4” and carrying herself on a lithe and fragile body. Even what little flesh remains on her heavily augmented form, Delilah moves very freely. While glancing upon her leaves watchers with no imposing sense, when one stares into her eyes, shivers may be sent down the spine. Everyone says it— there’s something off-putting about those bright blue eyes. Delilah’s gaze is absent, distant, and almost zombie-like in nature. Even in her moments of greatest excitement, that lingering void hides behind that gaze. Her hair, while varying, is most often kept in a slightly unkempt short style, just reaching her neck. It is most often dyed a slight pink color, but the underlying tones of blonde always pervade through. When she did any work for her old job in public, Delilah had a habit of dying her hair a vibrant blue. This can still be seen sometimes today.

Delilah’s common outfits vary on the day-to-day. It isn’t uncommon, though, to see her sporting some sort of loose-fitting t-shirt and flowing skirt. She keeps a number of leather and techwear jackets on hand for a mixture of fashion and utility. Long black boots complete her look and keep her standing sturdy when hard at work. Delilah often keeps a messenger bag on hand, usually heard rattling with various bits and components of broken tech.

OCCUPATION:
Prior to her work with Campbell in the Reclaim Zone, Delilah was stuck in quite an unorthodox industry. Springing from her love of the Cyber Matrix and her strange connections to Neo-Transhumanist radicals, she worked cracking through various Intrusion Countermeasures Electronics systems for the cell she found herself to be a part of as well as acting as tending to maintenance and general upkeep of the tech utilized by her crew.

CAMPAIGN TEAM POSITION:
While a number of slang teams have been employed by both Campbell and the other team members (Cyber-Security, Hacker, Engineer, Quartermaster, Technology Manager) as well as Delilah herself (Operator, Overseer, Overwatcher, Campaign Team Manager), she is most officially known as the group’s Technician. Delilah has become quite well versed in navigating the intricacies of electronic wiring just as much as she has in running at the speed of bioelectric lightning in Labyrinth. When it comes to dealing with the management of technology, the wider net whether black hat or white hat, Delilah is the person to go to. This more passive role in the public eye has also caused a number of more active duties to be relegated to her. Delilah often manages team communications and oversees operations in the field by ensuring a well-connected set of operatives.

Psychological Profile

PERSONAL GOAL:
A part of Delilah’s mind will always be fragmented by the plague-like thoughts that were essentially implanted into her by the Neo-Transhumanist movement. Above all else, Delilah finds herself. She is the center of her own reality and that reality itself is faltering right alongside the Earth as it rocks on its hinges. A small part of her wants to keep it together— to stop her mind from crumbling— but consciously Delilah reaches only towards that greater goal. She knows that potential lies inside of her, if only she were able to further augment, improve upon, and extrapolate that self. Her interest in cybernetic enhancement as well as other forms of human enhancement have become a ravenous obsession. She seeks only to improve; only to close the distance between man and machine.

Of course, there is reasoning behind Delilah’s obsessions, and looking deeper into them only reveals another esoteric motivation. Something cracked within her during the AI Crisis and Delilah has never been the same since. Having seen the distant secrets of the Cyber Matrix and the unsolvable puzzle of Labyrinth, Delilah fancies herself a modern-day frontier explorer, traversing cyberspace with endorphin-fueled enthusiasm. To gaze upon the eternal coded landscape brings shivers to her spine. There always was a reason that the best netrunners and cyber-jockeys were compared to Icarus… Delilah ignored it.

CAMPAIGN GOAL:
Put in its simplest terms, when Delilah found herself at a loss for work or contacts that could get her work, she tried to proceed on her own, farming her own credits through the Matrix, but as Labyrinth took over, everyone’s understanding is starting fresh. New ICE and new techniques are required. Delilah likely wouldn’t have tried to find other work if she didn’t have to, but Neurosynth is an expensive drug costing a world of credits or even more on the streets. With her fate lost in the winds, Delilah finds herself without any greater cause but those that are personal to her. Due to the political nature of her past work, she can’t help but feel that this is wrong. She wants to show others her ideology so that they too may relish in it. Under the assumption that she can influence Campbell to support her strange philosophies is only a second goal, really. Ever present in her mind, the thought of greater augmentation looms, and to accomplish anything of the sort, Delilah needs money.

PERSONAL PHILOSOPHY:
As fragmented as her very mind, it is clear to tell that Delilah has a rather abstract personal philosophy. Bordering on the edge of visionary and brainwashed, Delilah reaches constantly towards the next level of Humanity and elevating the mind. She is a chaotic spirit, and intends to aim for the total annihilation of anyone who wishes to prevent her own enlightenment. As individualist as Delilah is, she does understand the crushing power of the collective. After all, she joined the campaign team for a reason. Despite how inhumane some of her thoughts may seem, Delilah is filled with relatively good intentions (all of them good in her eyes). The morality of her ideals does get a little muddied in her evangelical expression and mystical fervor of them. Delilah believes herself to be onto something that could only impact Humanity positively whether now or thousands of years from now. She is nonetheless off-putting to many of the people she meets, for Delilah sees something greater in the machine and the Labyrinth. One might go as far to say that her intentions border on the occult.

POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY:
The derivatives that molded the political mindset that Delilah harbors is very clear. In working with the most radically minded Neo-Transhumanists, she has embraced the culture of inheriting the machine. Put simply, she believes augmentation benefits all parties involved, whether forcible, unregulated, or voluntary. The bureaucratic tape barring people from exploring augmentation as an art rather than a business bring Delilah a certain sense of aggression towards those in power. A great portion of her more human side owes its genesis to the influence of the HyperHuman Party and the monks. Delilah sees something beyond ones and zeros in the humming in the liquid crystal displays that surround her. It’s almost as though there are spirits to the machines of the world, and interconnecting with those spirits provides harmony.

In this very dual perspective that plagues Delilah’s mind, she is often conflicted in her own dissonant ideologies. On one hand, she seeks ultimate self-elevation, risking life and limb to keep her goals above all others. On another, she sees the power of augmentation and technology in her own hands and can only speculate about the greatness that would come if the world itself had her knowledge.

SECRETS:
►Brainwashed
Working with the most devious and ill-intending minds of the Neo-Transhumanists has left Delilah with a very skewed view of the world. She maintains that secrecy and cutthroat frame of mind that was instilled within her as she was brought up by her cell. However powerful it may be, that destructive and manic side of overpowering her enemies remains deep down in Delilah. When it comes to speaking on it or even mentioning her past work with the NTP, she would never openly do so.

► A Race Towards Death
As simple as it may seem, Netrunning is a dangerous game. Traversing the Cyber Matrix and Labyrinth in Total Immersion can have entirely ignored effects on the body. When one is unable to feel reality at all, the strain on the body is immense, especially during times of stress. Additionally, high class mavericks and netrunners have been known to tread a thin line between massive bursts of adrenaline during strenuous connections and death. Flatlining is becoming more and more common as netrunners venture across the enigmatic Labyrinth. Delilah likes to think there are few jockeys who handle a cyberdeck like her, but what costs may emerge in the future?

FEARS:
► Mind Slicer
Delilah would never admit it, but somewhere in the back of her head, she feels like she knows what’s coming. She feels herself falling and has no idea where she’ll end up, but a severed mental state is certainly something she wishes to stave off. Often this manifests as a desire for control over her life in all its aspects.

► T H E G R E A T B E Y 0 N D
Having spent more time in the Cyber Matrix and Labyrinth than 95% of the population, Delilah fancies herself as one of the keepers of the Net’s secrets. In her vast knowledge, though, she understands the dangers and mysteries that exist within and ignores them. Something within her knows that however powerful she becomes, she will never outlive the cyberscape. It will best her in the end, so she jockeys with caution.

REPUTATION:
While the majority of the Reclaim Zone recognizes Delilah as nothing more than an unknown entity, there is a select circuit of individuals that frequent the ‘Netrunner’ bars and clubs that look upon her with respect and reverence. She isn’t the best in the game, but she’s known to push limits beyond other Netrunners. ‘Fear isn’t present in her body’, they say. At the same time, not all of Delilah’s reputation has positive connotations. For as much as crazy is respected amongst cyber jockeys, Delilah’s crazy is a different breed. The people of the Reclaim Zone see the unhinged nature of the Netrunner and her nearly-religious ideals. She is most often approached with a weariness, though some of the more respected jockeys in the circuit view her as a friend.

LIKES:
► Technology in all its aspects

► Netrunning

► Adrenaline

► Augmentation

► Revolution

DISLIKES: (Same as above)
► The Government

► Bureaucratic Red Tape

► Limitations

► Neo-Luddite Ideas

QUIRKS:
►Delilah is known for her complete lack of seriousness in the most serious situations.

►Delilah’s strange reverence and connection to machines, the Net, and technology is bordering on cult-like and creepy.

►While she is often the furthest team member from combat at all times, Delilah swears by her threat to brutally kill anyone who messes with her cyberdeck, or messes with her while she is in Labyrinth.

Background Information

”Am I seeking unity, is that what you think? Am I seeking inhumanity? Revolution? Take your best guess. Really, I’d love to hear...”

Unconventional is the only word one could even think of to describe the strange life of the burned terrorist Delilah Amano. Having grown up in the lowest levels of Neo Orleans, anarchic societal standards existed all around the young girl. It wasn’t until the botched attempt of a local gang to raid and take out an opposing squad of gangers in a public apartment complex that Delilah was left without family. Even without her original parents, however, Delilah was not alone. In some fluke of morality, the gangers that saw the child abandoned by their mistakes brought her with them, raising her until they found a place for her. It didn’t take long. As Delilah found herself growing up around the vile actions of the gangers, she maintained herself as something entirely different. Her interest in machinery and technology sparked prodigious revolutions in the equipment and management of simple pieces of the gang. Delilah was by no means an asset, however.

When her specific talents became evident, Delilah would find herself changing families once again. In something in between a sale and an adoption, Delilah was given to an underground organization known as the Crocodile Company for their close relation to the flooded levels of Neo Orleans. The Crocodile Company was a cell of Neo-Transhumanist radical idealists, or in simple terms, terrorists. Their extremist views on technology were perfect to indoctrinate the young Delilah with her strange interests. Before she knew it, she grew up right alongside a series of dangerous operators making political moves that Delilah still doesn’t comprehend. After all, the few jobs she was offered as she grew up were cracking simple and low-stakes ICE software in the Cyber Matrix.

The Crocodile Company did have an overarching goal, though. It wasn’t all just mindless political nonsense. A great deal of the group’s time and effort was directed towards one massive heist that was meant to destabilize the Central Party’s government and start to pry it apart at the seams. To do so was a massive task involving the traversal through Matrix zones across America guarded heavily by ICE, security personnel, and AI. The originally planned day of the heist was put off after a catastrophic incident struck not only the Crocodile Company, but also the whole world. During a massive session of cracking into the Miami Platforms zone, what would soon be called the AI Crisis took place, leaving thousands of rogue AI bringing havoc across the cyberscape. In a chance encounter, one rogue AI discovered the team of Crocodile Company hackers, frying their brains right through their cyberware.

The cause wasn’t so quick to die, however, as the few remnants of the Crocodile Company proceeded with their mission. On the project’s final day, everything was set in motion with Delilah working right alongside the rest of the team due to personnel constraints. Again, their attempt would be lost to futility. It just so happened that by sheer chance that the massive attack coined as ‘The Matrix Incident’ took place on the same night. Not only was the team shut out of most of its connections and unable to proceed, but they were also traced in the massive storm of heightened security that came. There was only one decision the company could make, any of the netrunners that wanted to escape judgement by the law would have to fragment and leave Neo Orleans. Delilah pretended like it wasn’t hard to leave her family to mirror the dead demeanor of her fellow hackers, but her facade was by no means convincing.

Delilah fled to South City where she began to live out of an old abandoned factory apartment complex. In her time there, she began to set up as much of a makeshift base of operations as she could, still somewhat aligning herself to her old company. The days turned into years, and it became evident that the company would honor its pact never to contact one another again. Despite her great allegiance to her family, Delilah finally started to realize that disturbed motives of the outcast hacker collective. Perhaps in a fit of self-reformation, she signed on with Campbell as one of his first employees.

Operative Information

AUGMENTATIONS:
►APEX Cyberarm Prosthesis [Chimera Series] and FuryTech Cyberleg Prostheses [Ronin Model]
Throughout her life, Delilah has been preached to about the harmony of cybernetics and has spent most of her earnings towards further augmentation. This manifests most obviously in her three augmented limbs. Her APEX Chimera Series Prosthesis is one of Delilah’s most treasured enhancements. Picking APEX’s model that offers a more specialized quickness and greater articulation of combat abilities, the Chimera Series model is designed to be flashy and fashionable. Her FuryTech Ronin Model prostheses are built rather similarly as a mixture of FuryTech’s usual combative and actively powerful cybernetics with a more high class and practical model.

►Modified Engitech Internal Diagnostic Injector Collection
This array of injectors, syringes and other medical tools was originally meant to be housed in an Engitech prosthesis, but with a lot of jury-rigging Delilah managed to outfit her APEX arm with the lower quality tech. Expanding outward from the limb’s housing on command, a number of various ‘elixirs’, syringes, and simple medical tools can be on hand at any time. Delilah’s motivations for such an augmentation are much more self-serving than one might think, however. That much is evident as she chose the ‘auto-injector’ model.

►The Prophet Array
This esoteric bit of disruptor cyberware was procured by Delilah in a rather peculiar way. Rather unceremoniously after the impact of the AI Crisis on the Crocodile Clan, top level operatives were desecrated as their grafted cyberware was removed and dolled out to the remaining company members. In her emotionally scarred and fragile state, the company attempted to almost bribe Delilah for her trust again. This was how she acquired a full body augmentation known as ‘The Prophet Array’. Housed mainly in the brain, this mysterious work of art was created by Amalgamation and somehow ended up in the hands of the Crocodile Company’s head netrunner. The neurolink implanted in the E-Brain registers projected signals of imagination onto reality and translates them into code that is then sent to a variety of discreet projectors along the user’s limbs and body. This allows Delilah to project holographic images onto the world around her. While these images are rather difficult to create and the process is even harder to master, its utility is astounding.

►APEX Cyberdeck Cognition Integration Unit
When it comes to integrating with Labyrinth, every corporation on the market vies for control over the best technology available. Interface times, lack of side effects, and discreet microsofts are all highly sought after, but few companies do it like APEX with their Cyberdeck CIU 999. Offering the user a full cyberdeck interface as well as a number of microsofts along the base of the skull provides seamless connection with the E-Brain. This augmentation allows Delilah to access Labyrinth with any compatible cyberdeck and allows interface with information through her microsoft ports.

EQUIPMENT:
►Amalga Cyberdeck Rigging
While Delilah prizes her Cyberdeck above any of her other possessions, it really doesn’t look to fit in with the rest of her sleek and aesthetic cybernetics and technology. The Amalga Cyberdeck was made specifically for operatives of the NTP underground and was made viable for extreme modification and customization. Of course, this all comes at the cost of only being as powerful as the user allows. It can usually be outperformed by more expensive and quality decks. But is it the deck or the user that matters?

SKILLS:
►Net Sprint
Having lived her life for the cyberscape, Delilah is often unparalleled when it comes to cracking into cybersecurity and manipulating Labyrinth. Whenever someone needs something that can be accessed on or relies upon Labyrinth, Delilah is the one to go to. Her netrunning art borders on psychotic obsession.

►Machinist
The Crocodile Company supported the Neo-Transhumanist Party above all else, and in the fervor that is the NTP, countless esoteric gadgets and pieces of tech are utilized to achieve success. As such, Delilah has learned quite a bit about robotics and the upkeep of various high-level technology. She acts as a repair technician and engineer for much of the campaign team’s equipment when asked. She often jumps at the chance to do so.

►Cognitive Access
Due to her heavily augmented brain and augmented microsofts, Delilah has access to a massive array of information that she can freely recall. This intellect often helps when she is acting as an overwatch for any field operatives. Whether they need simple facts or specific knowledge from one of her specialties, she likely has a microsoft node for the job.

FLAWS:
►Addiction
Delilah’s crippling dependence on Neurosynth isn’t the only addiction that attacks her body regularly. Delilah has also experimented with her fair share of street drugs (particularly Mente Scindendris) and E-Drugs. This has left her with both physical and psychological addictions that skew her thoughts on a daily basis.

► Crumbling Mind
In a normal day’s work, Delilah is already separated from her own reality as is. Add in a mixture of Neurosynth shortages, E-Drug addictions, hardcore netrunning, and the ever-approaching onset of SPECS, Delilah is starting to see the effects of her deteriorating mind and ignoring them. SPECS, while she often refuses to admit it, has already had a profound effect on Delilah, expedited in its process by a drug called Mente Scindendris. This dissonant fragmentation that occurs in the girl’s head most often manifests as a questioning of her own reality and identity. You’ll be damned to try and get her to admit that she needs help, however.

►Cyber Death Imminent
Netrunning is a dangerous sport and an even more dangerous art. Those who delve too deeply into the most complex portions of Labyrinth often see their bodies crumbling in actual reality. While dehydration and muscle atrophy are common symptoms of overusing cyberdecks, things get much worse when Netrunners begin living their lives in the dangers of the cyberscape. Any particularly arduous tasks inside a cyberdeck can leave users with irregular heartbeats for days at a time, hallucinations, and in the worst cases, flatline users altogether. Delilah sees the dangers and disregards them. How far could death in the cyberscape really be?

NOTES:

]

General Information

Usually dressed in utilitarian clothing, combined with his favorite collared jacket, Proctor keeps a low profile. His body is on the more toned side, or, really, his torso is. His arms and legs are all cybernetic, so they keep their toned shape no matter what, keeping him overall slim and tall. His augments, however, are visibly aged, both by being covered by nicks, scratches and dents from years of fighting and abuse, and also from being generally older models. His limbs, while still being in the classic sleek, attractive APEX style, are still distinctly outdated, but still well operating. Despite their wear and tear, they still command the same respect that augments usually do. The skin on his body surrounded his augments is scarred, having been that way since the heavy operations.

His hair is a bright white, indicative of his age, but his eyes glow an augmented bright blue, having changed from his natural-born brown eyes. He has a large augmentation encompassing much of the back and sides of his head, covered in glowing lights and different colored steel, also covered in it’s fair share of scratches and scuffs. The skin around his augment is scarred and warped, but the rest of his face is surprisingly free of defects, other than the obvious wrinkles setting in, and a few moles and other signs of old age. Most of his face, though, is covered by a large white beard, which is growing increasingly unkempt as time goes by. You’d probably describe him as a “Robo-Grandpa” if you saw him.

Psychological Profile

Proctor’s only aim is to keep himself alive. Whatever it takes to make sure he can get what he needs to stay afloat, Proctor will do it.The ever looming fear of his demise helps keep the haze in his mind at bay, but with every day that passes, Proctor can feel the noose around his neck tightening, the blade press closer into his neck, and the energy powering his limbs slowly seeping out of him. Even though he hasn’t much to live for, Proctor desperately wants to live. He doesn’t want to be another nameless corpse left to rot in the streets amongst the vermin and trash. Proctor would rather die trying to get rich than to go out on his ass, broke, and without any say in the matter.


When you live the life and come from the kind of work that Proctor has, you know that money can be rung from any rag you can find in the streets. The Reclaim Zone is laden with opportunities for anyone a little loose on their morals or quick on their trigger, so why he decided to start working with Campbell, even Proctor isn’t quite sure of yet. Mostly, he supposes, it’s the money that could potentially be earned on the winning side of a mayoral run. Money, and access to the drugs he needs to keep his SPECS at bay. At the same time, however, if Campbell’s promise holds true, and he does his best to clean the streets up, Proctor sees a good opportunity to wipe a lot of former competition off the map. A double win for the aging cyborg.

If anything, perhaps this campaign could give him some sort of purpose other than just to keep breathing. If he must finally face his own mortality, at least he could do something before he dies, right? Proctor’s never been one to worry about leaving a mark on the world, but you’re never too old to actually have ambitions, are you?


Ever since Proctor began to learn about all humans’ tendency, no matter how self sacrificing or generous they are, to value themselves over everyone else, he’s lived and survived by that school of thought. He’s not a heartless animal willing to get one over on or kill anyone at any turn, he believes in treating people with at least a modicum of respect and decency, but, no one is above him in importance. If it means his life or death, sink or float, Proctor works for himself and only himself. The Reclaim Zone has taken more than enough lives, right before Proctor’s eyes, and now, survival is the greatest high Proctor can feel.

It’s been a very long time since Proctor made any major moves, subsisting on odd jobs and petty pushing for decades. Seeing what semblance of a foundation he had ripped away from him taught him that worrying about others or trying to carry some sort of following is a pipe dream for him. Collaborative efforts, while sweet for a while, do eventually crumble. He just hopes that maybe he can get away from this one with more than he did the last one.


Proctor has spent so much time wallowing with the denizens of the Reclaim Zone that he never felt the need to dabble in or pay much attention to politics, at least not past knowing who swung around the most weight, or which street gangs controlled the most territory. Due to his augments, he’s had a few run ins and discussions with some Neo-Transhumanists and HyperHuman monks, developing a bit of connection with both groups. After putting up with his fair share of unwarranted hatred for being “an abomination of man and machine”, it was a pleasant change of pace to speak with people that embraced his choices and encouraged him to continue his work on perfecting his form and replacing his human weakness with mechanical dominance. While the spiritual side of the various movements never interested him much, their unconditional support of augmenting the human body is good enough reason for Proctor to give them his support.

The obvious is not lost on Proctor, that the mega-corporations rule many aspects of life, the government is mostly corrupt with a few good souls trying to do good, but most of it flies under his radar. What matters to him the most is what happens on the street level, his level. The difference between people is negligible, everyone is equal to Proctor in that he doesn’t care much for anyone. The effort it takes to rally for a purpose, or to carry prejudice against others, or to try and uplift entire demographics, is all an effort in futility for Proctor.


Well, really, his identity is a secret in and of itself. He’s got a lot of enemies, and powerful ones at that, but Proctor hasn’t tried to make any major moves for decades. The heat has been off him for a while now, but if his name were to reappear in the spotlight, Proctor is sure he’d have a bullet in his skull in no time at all. Even those who don’t want to kill him might not exactly enjoy or appreciate his presence, as his criminal past has made him somewhat of an infamous character in the local lore. Better to just give a fake name and hope his aging face hides who he used to be.


Number One at the top of that list is easily Death. The concept of it, the act of dying, all of it shakes Proctor to the bone. Life has caught up very quickly with Proctor, and all of a sudden, he’s dealing with his very real mortality, despite all the measures he took when he was young to try and avoid it.

Nothing much else scares Proctor, other than the thought of the forgotten bounties on his head that are still floating around. As much as he likes to put on a tough guy front, he does often peer over his shoulders, wondering if one of his old rivals is going to send a shooter after him. Most things that pull some fear and anxiety from Proctor, like heights, often just have to do with his overwhelming fear of death.


Proctor is a sort of ghost story in the streets of the Reclaim Zone at this point. He’s not a household name or anything like that, but there are still stories that float around about the the guy that tried to rival The Knights back in the day. Most people think he’s dead, and aging and further augments have made Proctor’s looks a far cry from what they used to be, helping conceal his continued presence in the Reclaim.

The men which used to work with Proctor know the truth, though, and most still hold Proctor in high esteem, as their former leader, charismatic and kind, but never destined to be powerful. Those who need to work with or know Proctor respect him, but his name doesn’t really garner fear anymore, just simple interest. He was never in it for the fame, just the money, but he doesn’t have much of either anymore.

Even though not many people talk about him anymore, there are still a select few that want him dead, namely Jackson Rott, and men of his ilk. Some people still remember Proctor as the man who wanted the Reclaim Zone for himself, and would like to kill him just to tie up another loose end from the old days.


◦Taking walks through bustling city streets.
◦A bout of recreational drugs when he can spare the cash.
◦The rush of making money.


◦Losing money.
◦The fog of SPECS.
◦Contemplating his mortality.
◦People who are rude to people who work in customer service.


When sitting in chairs, Proctor will mindlessly rock back and forth in his seat. Not hard but just slightly enough for someone to notice.

No matter where he is or what he is doing, Proctor will sometimes stop, stand in one place, and just stretch everything out. His arms, legs, back, jaw, everything, just to try and loosen up and relax. Even though, you know, most of his limbs are… metal.

Background Information

”I tried to never let this place define me, I just made the best of what I was given. I did what I wanted to, fucked and fucked over whoever I felt like, and the same got done to me, but I never let it stop my work, my hustle. I never really needed a ‘meaning’ or a ‘purpose’ past just surviving, because that’s enough by itself.”

Somewhere unimportant in the Reclaim Zone, Proctor was brought into an uninterested and uncaring Angel City. Most of his memories of his early life and his parents are fading away from him, whether it be the early stages of SPECS, his age, all the blows he’s taken to the head, or perhaps a combination of both. He remembers his parents being rather plain people, neither very abrasive nor soft. They were just another pair of people driven by their primitive human need to keep breathing and walking, led not by passion or desire, but rather, blind autonomous survival.

Early on in his life, the importance of protecting himself was imprinted heavily on him by his parents, whether it be by the lectures and speeches he can’t quite remember anymore, or the many times he saw what failure to survive looked like. He wasn’t coddled or made to believe maybe he could leave the Reclaim Zone someday in the future, he was shown exactly what life does to anyone who loses their way. People die, people suffer, and the only one who could change that was the individual.

Goodness and Evilness weren’t real, they were just words people made to describe the positive and negative they had to work with. The world was disinterested in its inhabitants, with the Zone providing nothing but shade to those that dwelled within its walls. Life, day in and day out, writhed it’s way in and out of the streets, in and around their homes, all in their autonomous need to stay above ground. They didn’t stay alive because of their passion for life or joy in living, they stayed alive because that’s all they knew how to do. Even then, some of them failed, and Proctor was vigilant to learn from others’ failure.

Solidifying all his learnings in the Art of Survival, the day his parents were killed did well to shape up the then young Proctor. Though he’d never dare admit it, the day is still a sort of sensitive topic for him, so after doing a good job of compartmentalizing the whole ordeal, the details are fuzzy, but the important details are still there. A standard home burglary gone wrong, except as soon as the fatal danger presented itself, his parents fled, leaving the then 9 year-old Proctor alone cowering in his room. Of course, they were never allowed to get very far before each were shot to death. Whether the shooter hadn’t the resolve to murder a child, or saw it as a waste of time or ammunition, Proctor was left alone in the house after it had been stripped of all it’s valuables.

The Reclaim Zone seemed unbothered as another orphaned child turned into a street urchin, as Proctor took to the streets in search of ways to keep himself alive. Whether it was digging in the trash cans behind restaurants, stealing and selling pieces of technology, Proctor found a way to survive. He learned the value of a credit, how to stretch a credit for all it was worth, and all the tragic normalities that come with living on the street. He became an insignificant member of the festering biomass that surged in and out of the streets everyday, learning to be one with the ever moving tides of life and death, always managing to keep mostly dry, even if Death’s putrid scent always lingered around him.

Nothing that Proctor built ever came easy or quickly. Between knife fights with junkies in alleyways, or “repurposing” stashes of drugs he in no way stole from anyone, Proctor managed to keep his chin above water, making a bit of a name for himself amongst the local clan of urchins. Even though it was out of character, it seemed like the eyes on the walls finally concentrated on someone, that maybe, just maybe, someone was peeling themselves off the pavement, not a common sight in the Reclaim Zone. As much as Proctor knew about survival, the city that had remained standing around Proctor, after millenia of mistreatment and abuse, knew more than him, and it was time to prove himself.

For once, the kid knew ambition, and it began to manifest itself in interesting ways. Instead of trying to consume him, the streets embraced him, and his fellow urchins knew power when they saw it. Even if it could’ve ended up in his back, Proctor knew that a second knife was always stronger than just one, and soon enough, he had his own gang of people who were trying to make it through the shifting tides, just like him.

The Gamblers were the Zone’s newest collection of like-minded miscreants, and the Zone was quick to take notice. What used to be petty robbery and knife fights turned into small scale heists and drug dealing. Credits weren’t a new language to Proctor, but he was suddenly becoming much more fluent than he used to be. Surviving was finally feeling easier than it had before. The walls around the Zone had finally loosed up, and the waves were splashing lower down on Proctor’s legs, the stench of Death that followed him was beginning to disperse.

With this newfound money and power, Proctor began to take even more drastic measures to ensure that his chin stayed above sea level, and took to replacing his weak, imperfect organs & limbs with ones made of black metal. Flesh and blood gave way to steel and copper, lungs and heart extracted and replaced with machines that could do their jobs more reliably and for a much longer time. Slowly, Proctor was becoming more machine than man, but those fears that made him human were still woven deeply in him, whether they were woven with flesh or fiber optic.

The paranoia that crept deep within him made him wonder, were there other standouts from the Zone that would try to get rid of him? He and his gang had made their space in the Zone, but he was doubtless that there were others who wanted to push them out. There were plenty of other gangs that had their eyes on the space he occupied, but none of them posed as big as a threat as the Knights, the most aggressive, assertive gang in the Zone.

Despite their penchant for violence and subjugation, the Knights still wanted to maintain stability and freedom, and the Gamblers and their disregard for most of the residents presented an issue for Jackson Rott and his Knights. For the most part, issues remained simple disagreements or scuffles in alleyways, but as each gang grew larger and more vicious, these small squabbles slowly became more serious dust-ups and fights.

Soon, it was full-on turf war, and, to spare the details, The Gamblers came out the losers. Most of the men and women Proctor had just begun to call his friends now stained the streets with their blood. Suddenly, the waters began to rise up around Proctor, and now, they were stained red and carried a stench on them that Proctor couldn’t even escape in his weak slumber. Many of Proctor’s memories have become muddled and fuzzy over time, but he remembers the day his Gamblers failed to survive very clearly.

Removed from his spot amongst the Zone’s special survivors and presumed dead, Proctor went into hiding, taking what little he had left and, like he had done so many years before, melded back into the writhing masses of the Zone, shrouded in the anonymity of street survival. He was driven by neither passion nor joy, but instead, his primitive, human drive to breathe and walk.

After years in obscurity, living from job to job, surviving one way or another, a new job presented itself to Proctor. The rising campaign of Dexter Campbell, and the multiple open positions to help him dethrone Mayor Gatch felt like a stroke of incredible luck. Campbell needed someone to raise funds, and if Proctor knew how to do anything, it was to make money. He gave them a fake name, Richter Gamble, and joined the campaign as Dexter’s Fundraising Manager. Coming up with money for a campaign was difficult, but Proctor was sure he’d be able to use the skills he’d spent his whole life building to find his way into more money and power than he’d ever had before.

Operative Information

▩AUGMENTATIONS▩

Two (2) APEX Model 35-S Cybernetic Arms, One Left and One Right

Both of Proctor’s arms are outdated, APEX-made pieces of machinery. Together, they give the operator the strength to lift about half a ton, but since Proctor is still stuck with a normal human spine, he doesn’t really have the ability to support that weight. That doesn’t nullify all the strength granted by his arms, as he can still punch a hole through most brick walls, and has some serious throwing capability to add too.

Both of his arms, as stated above, are, at this point, approximately thirty years old, and while they don’t carry and suite of tools or make him quite a superhuman, they are still strong and reliable pieces of technology, top-of-the-line back in their heyday. Even decades old APEX are something to behold, but he won’t be stopping traffic anytime soon with these aging arms.


Capable of outrunning a bullet train, deliver kicks that could kill an elephant, or supporting, at most, a full ton of weight, Proctor’s Strider Legs were intended to be the only cybernetic legs you’d ever need for the rest of your life, available at a price for which wouldn’t take you that time to pay back, too. Of course, now being about twenty-five years old, they aren’t quite the glamourous, impressive legs there were advertised to be back in their heyday, but they work.

Age and use haven’t been good to them, and when not wearing pants, these legs look drastically different than most cybernetic limbs today, as they don’t really try to imitate human limbs in their looks. Black metal, adorned with scratches and dents, are all that greets the eyes when they see Proctor’s legs. Open joints, robotic imposters of toes, audible mechanical whirring sometimes, they are very obviously some worn legs. Maybe a little bit of exposed wiring here and there, but nothing too big.

While the legs were certainly capable of delivering on their claims when they were first released, time has not been good to their performance. Not to say they haven’t held up well enough, but Proctor, while he can propel himself much faster than the ordinary man, hasn’t been able to outrun a bullet train in a long time. He can still kick the head almost completely off a man, but he’d probably just sooner shoot them than do that.


While not exactly bulletproof, the FuryTech Cardiac Organ Replacing Enhancement is still a very hardy and reliable piece of machinery. While, technically, pumping blood harder than an organic heart can isn’t exactly beneficial, being able to do that job much longer and with less problems is FuryTech’s strength. The unit is much, much less likely to deal with irregular heartbeats, is 99% likely to never be stricken by arrest, and can negate many of the effects of arteries afflicted with cholesterol build up, which isn’t exactly ideal, but still means a much better life than otherwise. When the unit was made, blood purification systems weren’t quite off the ground yet, so the most this heart can do is help alleviate the effects of blood-borne illnesses or poisons, but nothing much past that.

You may be wondering if the unit is vulnerable to EMP blasts, which would be critical flaw, but thankfully, it’s not. Even twenty or so years ago when Proctor acquired his limbs, the ability to shield them from outside blasts was already pretty commonplace, so his heart, and other augments for that matter, are all fairly well protected against any sort of anti-electronic measures. At least, they were when they were produced. As for how the shielding has held up over time, that remains yet to be seen.


To accompany and take advantage of having an enhanced heart, Proctor also has an enhanced set of lungs, also from FuryTech. They’re meant to allow much longer stamina when it comes to vigorous activity, as the blood in one’s body can be oxygenated and pumped much faster than with a standard set of organs. Combine that with a set of Cybernetic Arms and Legs, and it makes for someone who can keep moving, quicky, for a long time.

Being made of metal and fiber optic and materials of that sort, many of the common worries that come with regular lungs don’t apply to these Respiratory Organ Replacing Enhancements. Lung Cancer is almost a non-issue, being punctured or crushed presents much less of an issue, as the lungs can support life with just one side, or can expand and contract with much greater force when under great pressure. This might mean pushing a little bit against a few other organs, or breaking a few ribs, but that’s only in the most extreme situations.


Built to connect into the brain, specifically in the synapses that have to do with processing visual information and those that have to do with decision making, the Maximus Neural Assistant was meant to help accelerate the user’s ability to make quick, on the spot decisions, help them retain more of a photographic memory, and interpret and respond to visual stimuli more quickly. It wasn’t meant to make you an artificial genius, or really, to make you any smarter, for that matter. It was basically just meant to help with improve reaction time and vision.

The unit presents itself as a large, well lit plate that encompasses most of the back and sides of the user’s head. Proctor’s model, or course, is well-worn, covered in scratches and dents from years of blows to the head. While the unit may not be able to do much in the way of memory enhancement anymore, it has still given Proctor a good reaction time despite his age and his plague.



This Fury-HeavyTech weapon blurs the line between a machine pistol and a full blown submachine gun. With a fire rate that can tuned and changed, caseless ammunition, and it’s compact size, the Lex-01 is quite the effortless killer. The weapon can accept a wide range different size magazines, anywhere from ten-round magazines, to some large, rather unwieldy one hundred round mags. Highly modular and customizable, the Lex-01, while not exactly a workhorse weapon, can still be changed to fit a variety of different situations the user could face. There are spots to mount optics, flashlights, suppressors or muzzle breaks, and even easily changeable grips to make sure that the user can get the most comfort and reliability from their weapon.

Proctor’s particular model sports an integrated flashlight, and a small holographic optic, with a threaded barrel and suppressor on hand for when the situation calls for it. The pistol grip is a custom piece, made to fit his hand perfectly, and is engraved with a large scorpion, with gold inlaid in the engraving. He likes to keep his weapon set to roughly 900-1000 rounds per minute, and carries around mostly thirty round magazines, with maybe one or two fifty-round magazines for where the need arises. The main body of the pistol is scratched, marred chrome, with onyx black accents. The weapon is usually kept in an underarm holster that Proctor conceals with his overcoat.


To offer strong, reliable protection, while maximizing mobility and discreteness, is the main goal off the Fury/HeavyTech Low Profile Body Armor. The Persecutor set was meant to be worn under clothing, making the armor discreet and almost completely unnoticeable. The armor itself is a extremely strong, durable combination of kevlar woven with an alloy of steel and aluminum, giving the user top of the line protection against most calibers of standard bullet. When it comes to more experimental and advanced types of projectiles, the armor’s protection may not hold up, but considering the rarity of those types of weapons, this shouldn’t present much of an issue. The Persecutor is a full body set of armor, protecting the most vital parts of the body, with sacrifices around places like joints for the sake of maneuverability.

While the Persecutor isn’t the end all be all of body armor, it can still sustain a few fatal blows, buying the wearer vital seconds in pivotal moments of a gun fight. If it’s a knife fight we’re talking about, the Persecutor actually makes up for the weakness of the armor of yesteryear and can manage resisting most mid level conventional blades. When it comes to high end conventional blades, or perhaps some more unconventional blades, well, the Prosecutor may not quite hold up.



Proctor’s entire life has been spent in and around the hard streets of the Reclaim. He knows the kind of people you’re destined to meet around here very well, and the dangers the streets themselves pose. From back alley crooks, to sidewalk junk vendors, Proctor understands how all the cogs spin in place to keep the streets moving perpetually. If you’re trying to navigate the Reclaim and keep out of as much trouble as possible, Proctor’s your guy.


Knowing your way around the Reclaim isn’t completely useful if you don’t know how to talk to people, too. Either Proctor is just good at knowing what to say, or he has some ethereal charm that even he himself isn’t aware of, but when Proctor speaks to people, he knows how to get them on his side. Business discussions, bartering on various goods, whatever it is that Proctor needs to do, he can usually talk his way into an advantage. Even if someone’s trying to harm poor old Proctor, he has a good way of weaseling out of a beating or stabbing, but, he’s still gotta defend himself every now and again.



The worst has come to pass, and the man who was once touted as a near immortal cyborg has been dealt the worst hand possible. The beginning stages of S.P.E.C.S have begin to set in on Proctor’s mind, and it’s worsened his already aging and bad memory. Proctor is slowly dying, and it will be the Cyber Plague that will finally bring him to his knees if he doesn’t begin to find himself a steady supply of Neutrosynth. Addiction to Neurosynth, however, is a bridge he will have to cross when he gets there, assuming he gets there in the first place.


Call it a phobia or just healthy paranoia, as age and disease begin to set in on Proctor, the thought of his impending death shakes him to the core. When faced with situations that could result in his possible death, or when having to confront his worsening plague, he will begin to lose his lucidity, giving in to panic attacks that can range from timid to crippling. Extreme fight or flight instincts will kick in during dangerous situations, and Proctor will either fight much harder than he has to, resulting in sometimes injury or further damage to his parts, or will abandon anything besides the clothes on his back to get away.


Even though robotic parts are meant to last longer than Human ones, after the lifetime of abuse and overuse that his have faced, Proctor’s various parts are beginning to show their age, and are paying for it. Very seldomly, his limbs will flat-out stall out on him, either getting stuck in the middle of use, or going limp. Servos have been replaced, motors fixed, but with the age of his limbs and the onset of S.P.E.C.S, his limbs just aren’t performing as well as they used to. One of these days, they might just stall out when he really needs them.


None.

General Information

NAME:
Kane Abellian

ALIASES // TITLES:
Mister Able

SEX:
Male

AGE:
25

APPEARANCE:
There's something predatory about Kane. He walks with the graceful confidence of one that has no fear of his surroundings: because he knows that the scariest thing there is him. His build is tall and well muscled, with powerful legs capable of running very far very quickly, and a single human arm nearly as imposing as its cybernetic counterpart. All this says one thing: my augments make me more dangerous, but I don't need to rely on them. His mechanical arm is a pitch black limb capable of producing a vice-like grip far more potent than any biological counterpart. The most dangerous feature of this device, however, are the retractable claws capable of cutting flesh to ribbons.

Kane’s face is angular with a strong nose and jaw, and a mouth full of teeth sharper and shinier than they should be. A black and blue cybernetic eye rests in his left socket, surrounding by a twisted knot of scar tissue that has since faded from an angry red to a more muted pink. His other eye is grey and regardless of his expression, always has a pit of malice hidden beneath. While Kane’s countenance typically holds a bored, flat visage, when emotions run high, his face can flash rapidly from flirtation to fury and anything else in between. A shaggy mop of vibrant green hair rests atop his scalp, and Kane often flicks his head quickly to the side to shake the bangs out of his eyes.

Aside from the scar marking his face, thin, whiplike scars crisscross the entirety of Kane’s back. Deep shiny marks also line the inside of both of his thighs.

OCCUPATION:
Officially, Kane is the proprietor of the strip club known as Dark Delights. Pay no mind to the backroom dealings that hand off hapless girls to men hungry for more than the average whorehouse has to offer. For the most deviant and depraved of the city, Kane can provide the satisfaction that most establishments would otherwise deny them. Don't worry about the girls either. They're all perfectly willing. Even if that's only because they're either too desperate or drugged to say no. Kane takes care of his girls though. Anybody that hurts an employee more than initially agreed upon will quickly find that incurring Mister Able’s wrath can prove fatal.

On the side, Kane runs a small pharmaceutical company providing various medicines and remedies to paying customers with the proper paperwork. The rumors that the gang kingpin Mister Able uses the pharmacy as a cover for dealing illicit substances to anyone with enough cash are entirely unfounded.

CAMPAIGN TEAM POSITION:
Officially, Kane is a benefactor. Potentially an underworld liaison. Really though, it’s about money. As long as the dear little candidate doesn't ask where the money comes from, Kane can keep it flowing in. He swears it's all from perfectly legal and legitimate businesses. The pharmacy is not a front for a drug running business and the strip club does not sell its girls to the highest bidder regardless of how perverse their intentions may be. Kane does not have connections in the black market and he is not a gang leader that uses his goons to collect payment from the businesses within his territory and he does not have people beaten, tortured or killed. Kane runs perfectly legitimate businesses. Just don't ask too many questions, and the money will keep flowing in.

Psychological Profile

PERSONAL GOAL:
Nearly everything in Kane’s life has, at some point or another, tried to kill him. He views the simple act of living as a big “Fuck you!” to all of the things in his past and present that want him dead. Obviously though, living is nowhere near enough for a man of his capabilities. He has to succeed and he has to do so quickly. To prove to every one or his detractors that Kane Abellian is a man to be reckoned with. And what better way to do that than with money? Money is power, and power commands respect. Or fear. Kane isn't picky.

CAMPAIGN GOAL:
Having an ally in the mayor would be a great boon to furthering his own plans. Without law enforcement impeding his operations, Kane could eventually have the entire criminal underworld of the Reclaim Zone under his thumb. It's not as if he doesn't want to bring some good to the world. It's just that the various gangs and kingpins are vicious creatures, so Kane has to be twice as vicious or risk getting eaten. What does Kane want to do for Campbell's platform? He wants to make sure that Campbell becomes mayor, by any means necessary.

PERSONAL PHILOSOPHY:
The real reason why Kane is so confident and unafraid is because he doesn't really care if he dies. Life just doesn't hold an appeal, and it never truly has. It's only in the extremes that Kane can derive some sort of genuine pleasure from the world. Yet, at the same time, he still wants so much to live. He wants to have the life that throughout his existence has been repeatedly denied to him. As long as that single spark of hope burns in his heart -and it does burn; it's an angry, burning flame of the blackest darkness within Kane’s soul- he will fight tooth and nail to take all that is owed to him.

Kane’s moral compass is simple. Do unto others things violent and horrific before they can do anything unto him. If a foe cannot be negotiated with, they will soon find their holdings burned to the ground, and their legs shattered before being tossed into the nearest dumpster. If they are amenable to discussion, they might live a bit longer before being poisoned or stabbed to death in their sleep. Those wise enough to style themselves as allies are treated with respect that befits a loyal servant, and will continue to persist in living so long as they understand their place in the chain of command.

When it comes to those not in places of power or privilege, however, things get a bit more complicated. Kane might snap the neck of an insolent wastrel just as quickly as he would jump into a dangerous situation to protect those that he assumes are innocent. Women and children, namely. On Kane’s turf, he expects all denizens to be capable of going about their business unaccosted.

POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY:
Kane, one way or another, cares very little about politics. His favorite party is whichever one enacts policies that help Kane’s businesses to flourish. He would say that he supports whatever party that Campbell chooses, because really the only politician that Kane has an interest in is the man that he's trying to form an alliance with. The incumbent is a problem too, though. If it comes to it, Kane could try to have him killed. Don’t even get him started on those gangsters styling themselves as suits. It’s only a matter of time before Kane devours Rott’s territory whole.

SECRETS:
If people outside of his own circle of crime caught wind of the fact that he murdered his girlfriend to seize power of her organization, it could earn him more revulsion and disgust than any of the other heinous (and probably true) rumors circling around him.

He holds any specifics of his childhood close to his chest, and has little interest reliving the trauma through discussion. Besides, there isn't anybody that he would want to confide in anyways. Not since Delilah.

FEARS:
Markus is still alive. Or so Kane assumes, at least. His childhood was incredibly traumatic, and though he put on a brave face through much of his father's abuse, he never truly stood up to him. To this day he doesn't know if he could.

Fire. Kane can recall the pain of the burning poker tearing across his face as clear as day. He cannot and will not tolerate flames in his presence.

REPUTATION:
Kane’s identity as the gang leader and drug lord Mister Able is essentially the worst kept secret in his slice of the city. Nearly every citizen knows, and the same can be said for city officials and law enforcement. He's tolerated, if only because a few of those city officials and officers are some of his best clients. On top of this, the local police officers are either wrapped up in his corruption, or are forced to grudgingly acknowledge that a gang leader that promotes order and views almost every other sect around him as competition can be rather effective for public safety. Maybe they expect that the Hounds of Envy will eventually destroy themselves against the gangs surrounding them. If this is the case, thoughts of what might happen when their expectations are subverted, when they grow too powerful, keep Kane up late into the night.

Kane’s presence demands respect within his own territory, or the territory of his allies, and brings fear or loathing when he wanders into those places not under his control. He makes no effort to be nice to those around him unless the situation calls for kindness, or an individual piques his interest, yet similarly sees no need for blatant disrespect unless he feels someone has earned it. In more heated situations, rumors of Kane’s unhinged brutality encourage many to pay special attention to their actions in his presence. Some feel the need to challenge him. Those that impress him might find themselves a job offer, while those that disappoint him only serve to add more credence to his violent reputation when Kane finishes with them.

LIKES:

• Pretty men and pretty women. Kane isn't picky about who he shags, just so long as they're feminine and compliant.
• Though sometimes, more masculine and rough and tumble is even better.
• People that challenge him and can back it up. These sorts intrigue him greatly. Those that look past his infamy to see someone that in reality, is just as mortal as all the rest, are powerful friends and potentially dangerous enemies.
• Sushi, obviously. It's delicious. ‘Nuff said.

DISLIKES:

• Disrespect. Those that are rude without any clear reason to behave in such a way make Kane sick. Respect is a two way street, and any slights against Kane can easily make an enemy of him.
• Prying. Kane has a lot to say but he doesn't open up easily. Nosy people and those that ask too many questions in general are a significant irritant to him.
• Sore sports. Those people that can't take a joke or throw a fit when they lose. When things aren't serious, the rules change and having a bit of pointed fun with those around him is an enjoyable experience.

QUIRKS:

• Kane isn't heartless, he just struggles to understand emotions that he hasn't practiced to comprehend and imitate.
• He has a tendency to crack jokes and make snide remarks at the worst of times, struggling to take a situation seriously that he himself has no emotional connection to.
• Though he is handsome, the burn scar and a mouth full of sharp metallic teeth can be off-putting to those with weaker psyches. Alternatively, some more deviant individuals have found his unnatural features alluring.

Background Information

”We can be friends, if you'd like. Or I can gouge your eyes out and feed them to you. It's a win for me either way honey.” -Kane, being diplomatic

Prologue - We All Make Mistakes

“Your mother didn't want you. I don't want you. Kane. There we go. Nobody wanted your counterpart either.” -Markus

Markus peered down at the girl before him. Thin, the subtle hint of curves beneath her clothing, with a slim face, button nose, big round eyes, and a small mouth. Not ugly by any means, but certainly no great beauty either. He sniffed. “Why,” he drawled slowly, “Are you carrying a baby with you?” And yet, he knew exactly what she was doing at his doorstep and what that bundle of flesh in her arms meant. Markus never forgot a face. The girl (he never bothered to ask her name) looked up at him with silent pleading, and held his child out towards him with trembling arms.

He made no move to except her offering. “Please.” she said at last. Markus crinkled his nose in disgust. What a wretch.

Slowly, with no small amount of reluctance, he seized the baby from her grasp. “If I see you on my property again, I'll have you shot.” Then Markus turned, shutting the door behind him.

Part One - Apples And Trees And All That

“I'd consider myself to be a nice shiny apple that fell far away from one rotten fucking tree. Pops probably doesn't see it that way.” -Kane

Kane’s upbringing was not a happy one. Any mistake made was swiftly corrected to the severest of degrees, and it seemed that Kane could not avoid making such mistakes. Markus was a cruel man, there were no two ways about that, and of all the things that cruel man seemed to hate, none felt his disgust and disdain more so than his own son. While the treatment he endured would cause many to grow into meek, anxious individuals, Kane became no such person. Since his youth, he challenged his father at nearly every turn, goading the man into rages so bitter, his roars and Kane’s screams echoed throughout the household.

As he grew from childhood and into adolescence, the screams often melted into laughs and taunts, and once again back into screams twice as sharp.

Though academically Kane excelled, behavioral issues led to his expulsion from no less than seven schools, and by age fifteen he stopped showing up entirely. Kane’s time was now being spent on the streets, mingling with outcasts and scum. He stopped coming home very often too. When he did, it was because Markus was retrieving him from lockup for some petty crime committed. Those days, the beatings reached horrific levels. Still, it seemed that no matter what Markus did to him, Kane’s spirit could not be broken.

Until it was.

Part Two - Sticks And Stones And Fire Pokers

“Fuck's sake. I'm going to have to change the floorboards.” -Delilah

Kane was not doing well. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that he doing worse than he had ever been before in his life. Which, really, if you knew anything of his history, was saying a hell of a lot. He wasn't sad. He wasn't depressed. You know, fuck that shit. He was angry. He was was so angry he couldn't feel a goddamn thing. Well, except the searing pain emanating from the left side of his face. Heh. Searing. Kane snorted, then cringed at the memory of the fire poker being swung at him.

He was not depressed. That's what he told himself as he pulled the knife across his inner thighs again. And again. And again. He never hesitated, and he never flinched. There was no time for that anymore. Life was a fucking drag. Anywhere was better than where he was now. Blood leaked from the mess that was his left eye, and again Kane snorted. What a fucking mess. The knife was slick with blood, his hands were covered in the crimson liquid, and a pool of it was rapidly spreading around his bare legs.

The corners of his vision began to darken, and still Kane continued to hack at himself. Then, the knife clattered from his hand, and Kane collapsed onto the floor. As his last eye shut, a faint smile dusted his lips. Finally.

Part Three - If At First You Don't Succeed, Don't Pull That Stupid Shit Again

“If you try anything like that again, I'll make you wish you were dead.” -Delilah

It wasn't Markus that found Kane, that saved him. It was Delilah. The first and last steady girlfriend that Kane ever had, and probably the only person he actually even really liked. She was even crueler and vicious than Markus. Just not to him. Maybe that was because unlike with Markus, Kane actually listened when Delilah told him to do something. That was how it worked when you were in a gang though. Boss tells you to do something, you do it.

So when Delilah told Kane that if he ever set foot in Markus’ house again she would take his other eye, he agreed to leave that part of his life behind him forever.

The final two years before Kane reached legal adulthood were spent on the streets, where he grew up meaner and faster than ever before. The Hounds of Envy, the gang that now owned Kane, were a uniquely sadistic bunch. True to their name, anything they coveted, they took by any means at their disposal. Kane excelled at this method of business. He might have been Delilah’s favorite, but he was no less equipped to be her right hand man for it. The presence of Kane commanded both respect and fear as he proved himself to be a cunning and savage lieutenant.

Though some might disagree, Delilah and the gang, from Kane’s perspective, had a profoundly positive impact on his life. His new life gave him new life. Never again would Kane allow himself to be bullied around and controlled. He knew what he wanted and he knew exactly how he was going to get it.

Maybe he wouldn't necessarily enjoy everything he wound have to do.

But you know.

Sometimes you gotta break a few eggs.

Part Four - All’s Fair In Love And Gang War

“It got clear to most of us real fast that Delilah wasn't going to last. Thing is, when she acted especially cruel she'd smile and laugh. Kane didn't do any of that though. He always got this flat look in his eyes. Like he was bored or something.” -Hounds of Envy lieutenant

As Kane reached adulthood and in the year that followed that milestone, he began to chafe more and more under Delilah’s leadership. Her other lieutenants often complained that the methods she would employ to consolidate the gang's power sometimes went too far, even for them. This greatly disturbed Kane. She wasn't going far enough. If the Hounds of Envy were going to focus on defending and maintaining their own territory, first they actually needed enough turf to worry about protecting.

He began to interpret her orders in creative ways, twisting her words to suit his own agendas rather than her own, building a growing force of loyal thugs right under Delilah’s nose. Of course, at times his disobedient behavior did gain her attention, and she would hurl threats and curses at him for hours on end. She never followed through on any of them though. Kane began to realize something then, that as much as he liked Delilah, she loved him even more. This revelation set in motion a chain of events that would forever change Kane’s life, and marked the end of hers.

Kane grew even more brazen in his subversion of Delilah’s power, consolidating his own secret control of the gang while making no attempt to hide his actions, occasionally gloating to Delilah when a successful endeavor extended the gang’s reach. The last straw for Delilah came when Kane, in full view of the other lieutenants, questioned and refuted Delilah’s latest plan of action.

Part Five - Plenty Of Sharks In The Sea

“I mean, if I wasn't certain that she would have stabbed me in the back at the first opportunity, I would have let her live. It's not like I'm heartless.” -Kane

Delilah’s features twisted up into a look of fury that was all too familiar to those present in the conference room. Kane looked at her evenly, studying her features. Bone white skin, shaved head, sharp jaw and full lips, two entirely black, cybernetic eyes. And the piercings. Piercings everywhere. Studs in her ears, rings through her nostrils and lower lips. His gaze traveled lower, to her bare arms, covered in tattoos, the subtle curve of her chest, her toned, athletic figure. She was probably the most beautiful thing that Kane had ever seen.

Then he unholstered his pistol, and shot her five times through the chest.

Suddenly the room erupted into shouts and gunfire and cries of agony as Kane’s loyalists took their cue and murdered the other lieutenants. Kane got to his feet then, and stalked over to Delilah’s form where she still clung to life. He knelt down next to her, and took one of her trembling hands in his. He squeezed it tightly, and felt a gentle squeeze back. Something curious shone through in her eyes, past the pain that came with betrayal. It looked a little bit like pride. When she opened up her mouth to speak, blood spilled from her lips, and her body went slack.

Whatever look of concern that marred Kane’s face quickly melted into disgust, and he threw Delilah’s now cold hand to the floor. Getting to his feet, he addressed the small crowd before him. “Kill anyone that mourns her passing. Use your own discretion. Any questions?” They all exchanged looks with one another, before one man stepped forward and began to speak.

Kane shot him dead on the spot. “New rule! Nobody questions me. Nobody talks back to me and absolutely nobody,” He paused, pointing to Delilah’s corpse. “Pulls the kind of shit with me that I've been pulling with her. Or,” Then he pointed to the second casualty of the day. “You'll wish that you got off as lucky as he did. I don't care what your intentions are. That isn't initiative and it isn't clever, it's suicide. Now get out of here.”

Part Six - Hold My Beer

“Delilah was a nasty bitch. Kane’s nastier, but he treats us little guys better than she ever did.” -Citizen living in Kane’s territory

Under Kane’s leadership, the Hounds of Envy flourished. Kane’s risky gambits more often than not payed off, and as such acquisitions of territory and alliances quickly put the Hounds on the map. The streets became safer for those living under their banner, unauthorized crime being met with swift reparations. Protection fees decreased, and Kane made frequent forays throughout his territory, dually intimidating and charming.

Over the past five years, Kane has taken great strides to improve not only the capabilities of the gang as a whole, but his own abilities as well.

Various cybernetic enhancements and implants went a long way towards establishing his own fearsome reputation separate from that of the gang entirely. The name of Black Delilah quickly took a backseat to Kane’s more than humorous (so he says) moniker, Mister Able.

Now, the Hounds find themselves stronger than ever.

Epilogue - Birds of a Feather

"You know, I'm not saying I'm glad that the poor fucker got gouged like that. I mean I am, but that would just be a very rude thing to say." -Kane

Kane grabbed the remote, rewinded the footage for what must have been the fifth time. The bullet piercing through Campbell's skull, the spatter of blood spraying out of his eye socket. He dropped the remote to his side, subconsciously touching the burn scar marring his face. He glanced down at the girl bobbing up and down between his legs, his other hand entangled in her hair.

He pulled her up off of him, then released her. She looked concerned. “If I did something wrong...”

Kane pressed a finger to her lips with more than a little force. He could do that. “You're fine sweetheart. Go to the bedroom. Close the door and don't pay attention, yeah? I've got to make a call.” The girl nodded, still wide eyed, and left without speaking another word. That would only upset him.

Getting to his feet, zipping up his pants and throwing on a crumpled shirt, Kane grabbed his phone, dialed the number that he'd been dying to call. Video chat initiated and he stared at an unfamiliar face. “This is Kane Abellian. I assume this is a representative for your unfortunate councilman. He's going to need surgery, if he even lives. And then he's going to need a replacement for what he's lost.” Kane tapped his own cybernetic eye.

“I know how to get him the best treatment and the best doctor money can buy. I've got the funds to pay for it all too. Consider it a gift to the councilman. If you appreciate my efforts, maybe we can settle down for a proper meeting. I've been watching your campaign with great interest.”

Operative Information

AUGMENTATIONS:

• A cybernetic eye connected to his brain. It can help Kane see significantly farther than the naked eye is capable of. It's also equipped with facial recognition software, so that when scanning a crowd will identify the individual that Kane is looking for. With this eye, it's very difficult to sneak up on him, as it detects any movements in its field of view with ease. Additionally, it can analyze the fighting patterns of opponents and give Kane advice on how to counteract their movements via the neural link that allows the eye to function in the first place.
• A mechanical limb that replaces his right arm, black and made of sturdy material resistant to scratching. Rarely does Kane find himself in a situation where the arm must be replaced. It allows Kane to perform feats of strength far beyond the abilities of a normal human. Razor sharp claws retracted within the fingertips can be unleashed to wreak havoc in close quarters combat. Additionally, a set of lockpicks can be released when a point of ingress happens to be locked.
• A small scar hidden beneath Kane’s mop of hair has beneath it a chip connected to wires that run throughout Kane’s torso and biological limbs. When activated gives him a boost of speed and strength, and can release a shock onto Kane’s heart should it detect that it has failed in an attempt to revive him.

EQUIPMENT:

• Holstered to his side is a mighty hand cannon. The kind of high powered ballistic weaponry that can tear holes through flesh and buildings alike.
• A small, silenced pistol hidden in his left boot. Good for silent takedowns. Also a last resort when emergency firepower is called for.
• When the situation calls for extreme violence, Kane can drag his special gun out of storage. An assault rifle scoped and effective from medium to long range, this beast fires with the power of a sniper rifle, and only Kane’s augmentations give him the capability to handle the thing.

SKILLS:

• Close quarters combat. When the fight turns to melee, Kane is a violent animal. Kicking and biting and scratching with the cunning to adapt to the behaviors of his opponents.
• Ballistic weaponry. Kane knows his way around the majority of traditionally created firearms intended for combat purposes.
• Subterfuge. He's adapt at stalking targets and using the environment around him to hide.
• Cunning. In the right situation, Kane has no trouble lying and fooling others into believing something that is not true.
• Charming. To the right audience, and if he even feels like he should bother to impress, he can sometimes make friends very easily.

FLAWS:

• Need for Control. Kane can act out when he feels as though his agency is being taken away from him. He likes to lead others or work in an equal group if he has to, but other than Campbell he refuses to be a lackey of another.
• Lack of Self Control. When something makes Kane truly afraid, or truly angry, or even truly sad, it results in some form of violence, physical or otherwise.
• Dead or Alive. Kane does not fear death, and will walk into dangerous situations as a way of challenging himself. He's capable, but if he can't temper his bravado, he may end up harmed or worse.
• Infamous. In certain circles, Kane is a high profile figure. Though in some cases advantageous, he has more than his fair share of enemies as well.
• Pyrophobic. The presence of fire makes him incredibly uncomfortable, and the closer that fire draws to him, the more easily that discomfort can rise to panic and terror.

NOTES:

General Information

NAME: Phineas Caesar Reggingston

ALIASES // TITLES: "The Showman"

SEX: Male

AGE: 27

APPEARANCE:

Phineas stands at 6 foot with a fairly lean physique. Not scrawny but not overly muscled either. He keeps his neat and trimmed brown hair brushed to the right side, making sure to accentuate his natural curls with a comb. When it isn't tucked under a top hat that is. His skin is clear and teeth are straight and beautiful. Indeed the only thing that could be construed as not normal is his striking pure blue cybernetic eyes.

When in the public eye, Phineas wears a tailor made suit with a black tie and his top hat, making him look like a magician. When with friends or at home, he goes for the more casual and colorful button up shirt with jeans or khakis. He always has a ring or two on his fingers. Years of performing in the dingy and smoke filled theaters of South City have taught him to be prepared, so he always carries a nub nose revolver in the inside pocket of his coat.

OCCUPATION:

Phineas was born to a very rich family in Seattle and had a whole slew of career opportunities to choose from. So of course he went out on his own to be a performer in ragamuffin theaters in the poorer areas of the South City. As some sort of pilgrimage from his comfortable upbringing. Needless to say, Phineas learned a lot about poverty and corruption in this brave new world. For some years he performed before accepting a position to help manage a fairly popular theater in a nicer part of town. But life got boring. Until, a friend and representative of Dexter Campbell's campaign with a prospective position. Press Secretary. That was exactly the kind of change Phineas needed.

CAMPAIGN TEAM POSITION:

Phineas is the Press Secretary for Campbell's campaign. He is the smiling face that pushes out the campaign agenda and ushers Dexter Campbell onto every stage. He sets up interviews, he arranges conferences and regulates release of information about progress of the campaign. He also helps to inform Dexter Campbell of how the atmosphere in the public is. As Phineas likes to describe the position, he is the "ultimate wingman".

Psychological Profile

PERSONAL GOAL:

The change of scenery. As much as Phineas loves theater, his job had become pushing papers at best. This is still pushing papers but its pushing papers with style! Pay isn't bad, but Phineas true benefit (the one he's looking forward to the most) is if Campbell wins, Phineas will have a spot in the new mayor of South City's administration. Not a bad gig, if you ask Phineas.

CAMPAIGN GOAL:

Politics is a lot like acting. You need to know how to work a crowd, how to get them to like you, you need to know the intricacies of the Human social complex. Phineas understands this, in less impressive terms. Its more of a feeling with him. While all that sounds kind of horrible and manipulative, its really how to make people happy. The slums of South City are place devoid of happiness. Phineas thinks Dexter Campbell can change that.

PERSONAL PHILOSOPHY:

Phineas is a people person. Extroverted and loves to be the center of attention, he's in his element when all eyes are on him. But he also likes to see people happy. To see the audience jump, gasp, and laugh is what he lives for. Telling a good story and seeing their eyes light up. To live his life flying into the sky, not come thundering down. The conditions of parts of South City seem like a direct challenge to that philosophy. The crime and misery in South City breaks his heart and he's willing to use the skills and traits he has to try and make it a place where people can feel safe and be happy.

POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY:

Phineas doesn't necessarily identify with any one party. He prefers to endorse choices, not organizations. The safety and general quality of life of the people of South City is what he would like to focus on the most. Things like healthcare, transportation, and security. He of course endorses freedom of speech and expression and the good ol' 2nd amendment. The amount of times a would be mugger with a rusty knife backed down because they had a revolver pointed at them had become too numerous to count. Phineas also desires a sense of community among South City, something that was sorely missing from his privileged upbringing in Seattle. A community that doesn't care about status, money, or power. A community that can trust in their leader.

SECRETS:
His family.

Its no secret that Phineas came from a rich upbringing but he endears the people he meets by treating them as equals and, of course, being his charismatic self. No, what Phineas doesn't want anyone to know, EVER, is how his family got rich.

Phineas comes from a family of international hitmen. In his immediate family, he is the only person to cut off contact with his family and not continue to the family business. There's a reason he's so good with a revolver and it isn't the token South City thug.

FEARS:

Phineas is terrified of his eyes malfunctioning. He was born blind and was blind for the first 12 years of his life before his family had gathered enough money to pay for artificial eyes. He still has nightmares of eternal darkness. He becomes skittish and agitated anytime someone so much as waves their hand too close to his eyes.

REPUTATION:

In many parts of South City, Phineas is seen as a talented performer and involved member in the community. In his position as a manger of the theater, he often hosted events or charities and that goes a long way with the people.

LIKES:

Musicals

Literature

Chimichangas

Classy clothing

Talking to people

DISLIKES:

Overly serious people

Unnecessarily loud vehicles (e.g. jackass who speeds by in his lifted pickup truck)

People who are rigid in their beliefs

QUIRKS:

Phineas is constantly moving. Whether that's walking around, helping himself to someone's end table liquor, or grooving in place to music in his head, the man just can't sit still. Unless he's on camera or doing an interview, somewhere in the public eye. Then every move he makes he makes with a purpose.

Background Information

”Life is too short to spend it unhappy.”

Phineas was born in a wealthy neighborhood in Seattle on April 27th, 2037. He was the second child with an older sister born 3 years before. His parents were also assassins. Now being born blind, Phineas coped with a lot of stuff and the fact that his parents killed people for a living didn't bother him so much. They seemed happy and they still loved him and as a child they never pushed it on him so he never really questioned it.

Until he got his sight. Seeing for the first time after a decade of darkness was...indescribable. Phineas would have cried if his tear ducts hadn't been removed. But with the gift of sight came something Phineas had never experienced. Expectations. See, a blind boy, even the blind child of assassins, isn't expected to do anything. But a boy with sight, especially a boy who is the son of assassins, that changes everything. That's when the cracks started to form. Phineas' parents began to pressure him into the lifestyle of death, something his older sister had willingly accepted and embraced.

But that just...wasn't Phineas. It drove a rift between him and his family. For years, they argued and pushed and pulled about what he would do with his life. Until he just couldn't take it anymore. The day he graduated high school, he left. Jumping in an old '32 Mercedes and driving south with a store of money he had been saving since he was 14. Just enough to get him on his feet. He arrived in South City and immediately got a job waiting tables and taking some community college classes. It was hard but dealing with his family trying to push into becoming a contract killer was 10 times harder. He survived. Eventually he landed a spot with a theater, helping set up stages and eventually acting, becoming one of the main attractions.

Phineas knew his family knew where he was. It was impossible to hide, especially for him. But they never approached him. Rather out of respect for his choice or because they had disowned him, he never knew. After some years he took up a managerial position at a nice theater. Nice pay and comfortable work but god was it dull. Until an old friend approached him about a position in Dexter Campbell's Campaign team. Their primary concern was a better coordination of Campbell's agenda across a wider area but also a friendly and semi-well known face that can stand next to Campbell. Add on Phineas' intelligence and natural charisma and it seemed like a good fit. Phineas had just finished getting briefed and was on his way to meet the rest of the campaign team when he got a call about a certain Councilman's eye exploding.

I think you know the rest.

Operative Information

AUGMENTATIONS:
- Artificial Eyes: Phineas was implanted with cybernetic eyes when he was 10 years old. They have night vision and infrared capabilities as well as allowing him to access information like time, weather, and news.

EQUIPMENT:

- Phineas' tailor made suit
- Phineas' Top Hat
- Phineas' .45 Snub Nose Revolver (Carried in the inside suit jacket pocket)

SKILLS:

- Good Shot: Phineas is a great shot with sidearms. Be it revolver or pistol. Though he prefers a revolver. He feels they have just a touch more class.

- Social Butterfly: Phineas can read and work a crowd at the same time. He has intuition on the feelings and emotions of people and has the skill to respond to those feelings and emotions. Whether it be talking to someone right in front of him or reading political reports on the Labryinth.

FLAWS:

Lust - Phineas being so sociable and very attractive, if he does say so himself, he is often tempted with the flesh. Which he very eagerly accepts. Man or woman, if they so much as flash a wink at him, Phineas is likely to go over and try to make some magic happen. Double points if they come to him. To the point where it can and will affect his work.

Artificial Eyes - Phineas is terrified of losing his eyesight again and if he's placed in a situation where that might happen, he'll do one of two things. Run or pull out his revolver and remove the problem. His charisma tends to go out the window when thinks about being so helpless.

NOTES:

General Information

NAME: Eitrigg Eivorsen Waldmann

ALIASES // TITLES: Rig, The Rigger, Eight

SEX: Male

AGE: 29

APPEARANCE: Eitrigg appears to be a down-on-his-luck private eye, or a brooding detective on his trusty beat, or at the very least, an interesting, no, intriguing gentleman to strike up a conversation with at a bar.

Eitrigg wears his hair long, grown out to hang loose about his shoulders, and he seldom shaves. He never had the genes to grow a decent beard so he’s stuck with the perpetual scruff of the habitual drinker. He has morose brown eyes that glint in the sparse rays of natural light with a golden tint. His face gives an overall angular impression, though that is mostly because his mouth forms a quirking smirk when he’s not actively emoting. Straight teeth though, shiny and clean, not a single false or replaced molar.

Eitrigg’s mug is the most interesting thing about his appearance, given that he likes to wear nondescript clothing as force of habit. Long coats, dark vests, and mussed or stained dress shirts underneath all that are the norm. He can’t be arsed to wear ties, and his shoes had seen better days before he bought them off a Reclaimer looking for Neurosynth cash. In short, the man dresses to depress. Not hard to do in a shithole like the Reclaim Zone, and cheaper, more honest, than going to the trouble of wearing nice clean suits.

OCCUPATION: Eitrigg calls himself a middle-man, but to his clients, that’s defence counsel, to his friends, that’s chief drink-buyer, and to his enemies? ...Rig’s got no enemies. Rig makes friends of everyone, because being friends is Eitrigg’s occupation. And if some of Eitrigg’s friends get better treatment than others, well, that’s only fair. Some friends pay Rig better. There’s one thing all of Eitrigg’s friends have in common; sound legal advice, and a good drinking buddy. They’re also quite habitually stabbing each other in the back through Eitrigg.

CAMPAIGN TEAM POSITION: Personal Attorney / Negotiator / Head of Campbell’s Legal Staff

Eitrigg has come into Campbell’s employ in a kind of hybrid role, both to fill the mayoral candidate’s void in legal aid, a very real liability to be certain, but also to act in his capacity as a kind of diplomatic figure in Campbell’s relations with more unsavory types. Where Campbell has need of gangs, goons, bankers, and buffoons, Eitrigg is there with a briefcase and a firm handshake. Or a bottle of hooch and a stolen cybernetic arm, as the case may be. Wait, strike that, reverse it. Defending Campbell both from teethless lawsuits and toothy hostage-takers alike, Eitrigg is the first and last defence from all things juridical and just plain hostile.

Psychological Profile

PERSONAL GOAL:

”I remember hearing a long time ago, this whole continent was united, into fifty equal pieces. I wish we had something like that again. I wish I had something like that.”

Though he would never dare to let anybody know that he could ever dream of something so utterly naive, Eitrigg has visions of the megaregions coming together. The potential of uniting such disparate regions by virtue of common humanity seems next to impossible, but then, so too do the stories of a whole fifty united states, all working in concert. Eitrigg wants to revive a small piece of history, even if it means starting small, with something as seemingly insignificant as the Reclaim Zone in South City.

CAMPAIGN GOAL:

”This man has got what it takes. I just feel it in my bones. If anybody can make things better in the Reclaim Zone, it’s Dexter. And if Dexter can make something of this hellhole, I don’t see why he can’t do the same for the rest of the world.”

Eitrigg’s main reason for joining Campbell’s team revolves around ensuring that the man can act as best he can to raise South City above the ruins that it currently sulks in. Eitrigg is going to really prove that Dexter is the candidate for you, by personally visiting every single residence in the Reclaim Zone and telling you so, if that’s what it takes.

PERSONAL PHILOSOPHY:

”I’m one man out of millions, trying to understand his fellow man, or woman, or artificially intelligent digitized simulation.”

Eitrigg’s personal philosophy is all about hearing people’s stories, and understanding their struggles and coming to grips with their common humanity. He adores learning new things about others, and his unabiding thirst for more perspectives on the experience of existence makes an outwardly seeming cynic a kind of closeted optimist. He thinks that most everything is relative, and given a long enough conversation, can be explained and given context. Most of the problems arise, he thinks, from when the conversation doesn’t get that far. By experiencing all walks of life, Eitrigg hopes to one day be able to unite everybody under one banner, so that every voice can be heard, every story told, and every life lived well.

POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY:

”You know, there’s merits to both sides of the issue. Trust me, I know.”

Eitrigg feels torn when it comes to politics, and perhaps rightfully so, given his line of work. He can find things to appreciate in all the parties’ manifestos, and even though it causes him grief from time to time, he identifies particularly with the Neo-Luddites. Not insofar as he condemns those who choose to augment themselves, but rather that he feels no urge to do the same and prefers living life naturally, without enhancements. This particular divide worries him more than the other parties because part of Eitrigg knows that without any augmentations, he won’t truly understand some of the stories that augmented people tell him.

In the voting booth? Eitrigg is a staunch supporter of the Pirate Party, despite its low support. Their values of free speech and representation closely align with Eitrigg’s own optimistic philosophy, even if he sometimes questions both their methods and the workability of a literal direct democracy.

SECRETS:

”Oh secrets, those damned things. They never do stay quiet when you want them to…”

Over his years of smooth-talking and legal jury-rigging, Eitrigg has amassed quite the vast wellspring of privileged information. He wouldn’t tell you the slightest, most innocuous little tidbit if it were to save his life, because he figures that that’s what’s saved it so far. Every time Eitrigg sees a headline about a crime boss takedown, or a corporate coup d’etat, or even a local scuffle over a marital dispute, he knows well enough to lay low and wait for things to die down. If you don’t want Eitrigg to know something, odds are he’s already found out from twenty different people who all swear they’re the only one who knows. Given these facts, Eitrigg knows more than his fair share of secrets, but he tries desperately not to keep any of his own. Except maybe his personal goal, though he considers that above all scrutiny as far as he’s concerned.

FEARS:

”You never know what’ll kill you, until it does. Everybody else will know, but for you it will always be a surprise.”

Eitrigg fears death, forgetfulness, and loss of his grip on reality. Fairly simple and easy to grasp. Consequently, he fears SPECS like the plague, partly why he has refused to augment himself at present. Eitrigg also is worth less than loose shit in a fight, and takes cover as any self-respecting lawyer would and should. So don’t go expecting any final act sacrifices or epic surprise shootouts from Mr. Waldmann, because he will disappoint you. Eitrigg also retains mild paranoia surrounding any mild to permanent impairment of his senses, given that these are how he absorbs stories from others. Thus, Eitrigg tries to take better than average care of his hearing, sight, olfactory sense, and his own ability to repeat stories in the form of oral health and hygiene. Lastly, Eitrigg has a phobia of mental hospitals, due to the real possibility of being locked up within one with one’s own faculties intact, but always in question.

REPUTATION:

”Everybody loves me! Or if they don’t love me, it’s cause they haven’t met me yet. And if they have, and they don’t love me, it’s because they don’t know me yet. And if they have, and they don’t love me, it’s because-” (Subject is interrupted loudly by the sound of something shattering. A different speaker;) “Shut up and have a drink already!”

Eitrigg is viewed by the world as a bit of an outsider, but also an everyman. Worldly but not aloof, warm but not oppressive. The world likes Eitrigg, and Eitrigg likes it back. His unifying reputational distinction, outside of his various specific roles for different audiences, is his profound love for alcohol, weak and strong, dry and bitter. Eitrigg has found that the old cliché offer to purchase a beverage works literally 100% of the time. It has never not succeeded at appeasing, assuaging, cajoling, or distracting his interlocutors. Eitrigg is half-convinced asking an executioner to fetch him a single-malt tumbler of good Texan whisky would prolong his life by at least a week and a half.

Most people tolerate Eitrigg, then befriend him, then invite him into their inner circles. His natural charisma and earnest nature make him a very likable individual. All but the most grim and hateful people will at least abide his presence, and Eitrigg does his best to foster good relations wherever he goes.

LIKES:

Stories - Have you been paying attention?
Alcohol - Drink of the gods!
VR Games - Like reading, but way cooler!
Dress Clothes - Preferably worn, and cheap, but still nicer than overalls!
People - They’re just so damned interesting, aren’t they?

DISLIKES:

Unnecessary Conflict - Make love, not war, Reclaim Zone!
Hangovers - They suck ass, and I hate them, and so do you! Don’t lie!
Being Alone - I get bored easily.
Augmentations - For myself, not for others. I don’t judge, I just don’t want to lose my mind.
Sleazy Lawyers - They give the rest of us a bad name!

QUIRKS:

Eitrigg has an overdeveloped nose, and sense of smell. He’s super sensitive to odours and can often sniff things if he smells something off. He also sniffs his hands a lot when he thinks nobody is looking.

Eitrigg’s favourite drink is too hopsy for even the most devout beer drinker, and most people are convinced that Eitrigg’s favourite brand is just pickled oatmeal based on the taste alone. He says they exaggerate, they say his discerning tastes are for briny vegetables, he gives them the bird, they chuckle, he buys them a light beer and teases them for drinking corpo piss.

Eitrigg can sing worth a hot flying damn, but it rarely comes up and his singing voice is rarely in top shape when he’s halfway through his cups.

Eitrigg’s friends call him Eight because it’s easy to shorten his name that way. They call him the Rigger because his ability to bluff at cards is unmatched.

Background Information

”My story’s not as important as yours. Come on, let’s hear it then! Don’t worry about me.”

Operative Information

AUGMENTATIONS: None.

EQUIPMENT:

Briefcase - Carries all the legal paraphernalia Eitrigg could ever need, and plenty he doesn’t.

Engitech SCR-1-B3 Dataslate - Needed to make all the important calls, as Eitrigg is at his most useful when he can communicate with the team. Also, the dataslate allows him to make recordings, pull up cute cat videos, or broker an illegal drug deal over completely traceable networks (yes it’s entrapment, no he doesn’t care, that’s what gets shit done).

Engitech T3 Earpiece - While not as advanced as its augmentative counterpart, the less invasionary detachable earpiece suits Eitrigg’s purposes nicely, by both functioning as a tool for face-to-face diplomacy and some light espionage. The T3 translates, transmits, and transfers sound to and from a private server linked up to Eitrigg’s dataslate. As the earpiece advertises, it grants Eitrigg simultaneous translation of speech, alongside the ability to amplify sounds over long distances or through sufficiently thin materials, allowing Eitrigg to not only understand and speak any language, but also to eavesdrop like no other.

SKILLS:

Charisma - As elaborated above, Eitrigg is very likable and can enter virtually any social situation, if prepared, with ease. His skills quickly slip if he is taken aback or caught off-guard, but his ability to read social cues and norms is nigh unequaled. In another life, it might have made him an excellent spy, whereas instead, it just lets him get where other people can’t in order to discuss things that would never otherwise be discussed. Oh, ha. Maybe he is a spy. Would you like him more if he said he was?

Legal Practice - Years of experience with a pair of law firms alongside an encyclopedic reading of case law and legal textbooks has granted Eitrigg a gift in championing and/or defending his clients in court. He was on the rise to partner at his respective firm before his ideals got in the way of a promotion.

Persuasion - Eitrigg’s rhetorical ability has gotten him into and out more fights than he can count, and it is above all else his best and only weapon in fear of his life. Often rumoured to have been given a fabled, rare augmentation from a ripperdoc that gave him a silver tongue though he swears that it’s all bullshit, Eitrigg is uncommonly good at talking circles around other people.

FLAWS:

Obsession - Once Eitrigg is focused on a task, he pursues it relentlessly and recklessly. Little if anything can steer him from, for example, finding out why a woman’s child was murdered but she was left alive, nor whether that shiny line at the end of the hallway really is a tripwire, and if so, what the tripwire activates. Perhaps an artifact of the days where Eitrigg could do nothing but sit and read for hours on end, seeking answers to questions his parents couldn’t answer, it remains nevertheless, a glaring issue in Eitrigg’s current employment situation.

Pacifist - While Eitrigg is quite capable of fucking people over in court, or by using mind games to trick them, he has an aversion to physical violence which overrides many of his higher functions. Eitrigg can describe fifty-six ways to disembowel a man with augmented gastric muscles (Yeah, that Reclaimer had issues, but his struggle with mood swings was enthralling), but if you tell him he needs to stab somebody or else they will kill him, he’ll die. This may not be an issue as long as there are others around to defend him, but Eitrigg’s staunch resistance to committing acts of violence puts him at a distinct disadvantage with the rest of the populace of the Reclaim Zone.

Web of Secrets - Eitrigg has been involved with many secretive goings since he came to South City, and as such there are many individuals and organizations who worry about what he knows, and who knows what he knows. Considering that Eitrigg just aligned himself with a seemingly incorruptible mayoral candidate, there are certainly powerful people who may feel that it’s worthwhile to put a target on Eitrigg’s back. One, he may not even know is there. Not every deal worked out in his favour after all, and some of the ones that did ended poorly for the other guy… Just not poorly enough.

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