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⇒ Psychological Profile

⟹ Background Information

To the people of the New York Seaboard that didn’t have the luxury of being born into a rich and powerful family, the birth of Oleksandr Joshua Tataryn was worth little more than a grimace or an eyeroll. His father, a chairman of the Seaboard’s political council, and his mother, a Boardmember of New York’s Amalgamation Company, had come together in a marriage that made the collective public of the Seaboard shutter and gag at the same time. The hand-in-hand work between Amalgamation and the Seaboard’s Council had long become the standard in the region, and the literal marrying of the two groups even closer couldn’t mean anything good for anyone. All of this resulted in Oleksandr’s birth meeting little fanfare past his own parents’ delight.

Despite all of that, Olex knew from a young age that he was destined for something great, something grand, even beyond his family’s more than ample means. Whether it was the world-class education he received from his private tutors, or the strict discipline he received from his parents, it felt like every minute thing that he did from day to day was getting him ready for a life of grandeur. The wide and beautiful view granted to him from the window of his luxury apartment gave him a jaw-dropping visage of a city he could envision owning one day. From the sparkling blue coast, all the way to the gargantuan, steel walls that separated the people from the savages, it could all be his. It was only when he realized that his path in life had a lot more heavy-handed guidance than he expected, that he stopped being the good obedient son his parents had come to know.

Of course, he’d been complacent with the near-authoritarian control of childhood and early teenage years, but he was led to believe it was all meant to be a sort of launching pad for his entry into the world at large. But when words like “Lawyer” or “Chair Member” began to get thrown around, it turned things upside down for him. Of course, even in the face of overwhelmingly strict rules and the ever rising expectations of him, Olex was a young man of strong will and even stronger character, and despite his parents’ iron-fisted grip on the boy, even they knew when to let a caged bird go and sing it’s own song.

At the tender age of 17 years old, Olex made his controversial choice to join the New York branch of the Tinmen, a decision he could only make with the influence of his parents, as he was still too young. Very quickly, he became enamoured with the gunmetal and cybernetic limbs, the men and women of impressive prestige, the commanding officers with limbs adorned in gold inlaid engravings, it all was very intoxicating to the young man that had known only the cleanest and most uptight of comforts for most of his life. In an instant, Olex was thrust into the most challenging physical test of his life in the Tinmen’s training camp, crushing his boyish daydreams of simple commandeering his own Exo-Suit and marching to glorious victory. Brass shell casings and mud were much different than his upbringing in fine linen and classic literature. And he loved it.

Even though he impressed his seniors with his performance in training, the clamor and the criticism that the young man had simply bought his way into the company was loud and clear. It was decided that Oleksandr would start his career with the Tinmen in the then-famous Pioneer Dogs Regiment, a regiment of Tinmen that specialized in warfare with the “uncivilized savages” that ruled the lands outside the walls of the many megaregions of America. Besides that, the Pioneer Dogs were considered one of the toughest and most violent regiments in the Tinmen, and Oleksandr doing a tour with them was considered by some to be a “baptism in flames”, and by most others to be a “death warrant.”

On the eve of his 18th birthday, Oleksandr and his fellow Dogs were summoned to service once again, and this was Oleksandr’s first true taste of what the Tinmen were all about. Long ago, part of the original walls that surrounded the city had been breached, and for decades now, a clan of Badlanders had been living out of a medical lab they’d conquered, and now it was time for the Tinmen to reclaim the building for the corporation it rightfully belonged to.

The fight was brutally violent, but thankfully short. The village had sent their most seasoned fighters to defend them, and fight they did, but even for mercs tested and hardened by the Badlands, the power of the Tinmen was overwhelming. Oleksandr tasted his first bit of true violence in this battle. Not the stabbings or shootings he’s occasionally see on television, three levels removed. This wasn’t a mugging or assault, this was a war, with all the carnage and shocking brutality that came with it. Oleksandr had been engulfed by the blood and mud, and for the first time in his still brief life, he felt free.

Of course, when he returned home for the first time, the new image he’d earned for himself didn’t do much to garner much favor from the masses. His family was one that plenty of people were already weary of, and now that he’d been branded with the ink of the Tinmen, it cast an even darker shadow on the young man. Contract killers on the bankroll of corporate fat cats didn’t exactly garner the trust of the people, and the dirty work of the Tinmen was always subject of rumors and gossip, but the public never had a clear idea of what truly went on behind the sealed files and red tape.

With every battle, and every donning of his own personal combat exo-armor, Olex became more and more interested in more than just wearing robotic weapons of war, he wanted them to be a part of his own body. Augmentations were mostly frowned upon by his parents, and the idea was usually hushed when it was brought up at home, but he was now a man of twenty-one years of age, and he had the money and freedom to do whatever he wanted.

First to go was his right arm, so that he’d have better aim and stability, and then a few months down the line was his left arm to further reinforce his skill with a weapon. Over the next two years, it was both of his legs, and then, finally, shortly before his expulsion from the Tinmen, his own heart, lungs and liver were all replaced with superior robotic replacements. Quickly, the man had become almost more metal than flesh, and it made him feel stronger than he ever had before.

All the while, though, as his body was changing, so was his mind. The campaign against feral outlanders outside the city walls became less and less gallant and brave, as more and more missions involved wiping entire villages off the map. “They pose a significant threat to the city” the corporations said, “We need to take them out at the source.” At first, only the combatants were harmed and the rest of the clans driven off, but now even the old and infirm were caught up in the slaughter. Most of the Regiment kept a “business only” attitude about the increasingly inhumane nature of the campaign, but there were a few like Olex that had grown uncomfortable. Dissent was usually handled civilly within the ranks of the Tinmen, but as it grew more and more constant, the leadership began to deal out more stringent punishment for speaking out against orders. Morale began to worsen as tensions rose between Command and the few dissenters that still spoke their mind.

Oleksandr, after having seen many of his comrades rebuked and silenced, finally did the unthinkable; he defied orders.

The Outlanders had a forward scout that had been observing the positions of the Tinmen as they advanced across the wastes, and when he was discovered, Oleksandr was ordered to shoot him before he could make his escape. Olex outright refused, as the scout was merely a child. Why the Outlanders had chosen to send a child to do their spying, he didn’t know, the idea repulsed him, but shooting him was finally a step too far. The Pioneer Dogs had shot children in the past, but Oleksandr had been able to avoid confronting reality by simply ignoring it and acting as if it didn’t happen, but he could no longer run away anymore.

The child escaped, and Olex was arrested for blatant disregard of orders. His stint in the brig wouldn’t last long, though, as it was upgraded to execution for costing the lives of his fellow Tinmen.

With the information he’d gathered, the child returned to his village, and before the Dogs were able to mount their attack, the Outlanders beat them to the punch, and exploited the weaknesses in the front, and in a stunning upset, had driven the metal-clad mercenaries back, resulting in many casualties, including the death of the very officer that had ordered the child shot.

For costing the lives of multiple soldiers, including a commanding officer, Oleksandr was sentenced to instant court marshall and a subsequent execution by firing squad, consisting of a team of his former fellow Dogs. The execution, though, obviously never happened, as his parents stepped in and saved him from his demise. Amalgamation was a frequent contractor of the Tinmen, and killing the son of a current board member would be bad for business. The promise of being blacklisted from doing business in the Seaboard was enough to dissuade the leadership from executing Olex, but there was no way to avoid him being kicked out of the Regiment for life, and he was definitely ready to leave himself.

Soon after his court marshall, a few more old members of the Pioneer Dogs deserted, running back to Seaboard, ready to talk of the atrocities they’d witnessed before they were surely hunted down. The stories of the massacres perpetrated by the Tinmen went crazy in the media, with the Company coming under much fire and scrutiny, even gathering criticism from members of the Seaboard’s Political Council and many corporations. Bad publicity for the Tinmen was never a good thing, and they were quick to prosecute the many members of the Pioneer Dogs, and attempted to sweep the whole ordeal under the rug in order to save face. Even Oleksandr’s name was outed as being a member, as many had suspected when the story first broke. His court marshall was framed more as him clashing with leadership over personal issues, and less over his moral disagreement with the slaughter of the Outlanders, and his name was cast in the flames of overwhelming criticism just like the rest of his regiment.

Rather than stay in the region and deal with the overwhelming amount of criticism from the public, he quietly snuck away from the Seaboard, deciding to lay low in the Miami Platforms until the controversy died down. That would be the last time he’d see the Seaboard, as he decided never to return, preferring to start fresh in the Platforms, staying there for a short time before moving again, this time back to the mainland, to the Greater DC Region. He caught a few errant glances here and there, but he managed to stay mostly on the downlow as he picked up small jobs. This set the trend, as he would spend the next few years moving from region to region, picking up a wide variety of jobs, never staying in any one place for very long before moving either to a different part of a region or a different region all together.

For the most part, his jobs were small time, as he was worried more about finding a job he liked over a job that paid him well. His parents continued to support him, although over time they became more and more vocal about their wishes for him to return home and pursue a different path in life. Their pleas fell on deaf ears, though, as Olex was more interested in finding interesting obscure jobs, over the stiff corporate ones his parents offered him. He wouldn’t be able to keep this lifestyle up for long, though, as after a year of one sided contact, being ignored by their son, they finally cut him off from the family’s fortune, and asserting that he would never hear from them again unless he chose to return home and respect his parents’ wishes. That would never happen.

Soon after his family’s support was cut off, a new problem presented itself: Tinmen Agents pursuing him wherever he went. The Tinmen had been able to execute most of the former Dogs that ran and leaked company secrets to the media, but Oleksandr has since been untouchable because of his parents. Now that they had effectively disowned him, though, they had picked back up on his trail, sending a trained killer every now and again, in a vain attempt to tie up the loose end that is Oleksandr Tataryn.

They would find him now at his most recent job and home, working for a High Security Courier Service deep in the Reclaim. Currently, Oleksandr has been facing an influx of work due to the Twin City Council elections.

⟹Operative Information

General Information

NAME: Vera Ivanovna Kuznetsova

ALIASES // TITLES: Sister ViK, Doctor Amethyst to those looking for a Ripper Doc, and just Violet to her close friends.

SEX: Female

AGE: 27

APPEARANCE:





OCCUPATION:

Psychological Profile

PERSONAL GOAL:



CAMPAIGN GOAL:



PERSONAL PHILOSOPHY:



POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY:



SECRETS:



FEARS:



REPUTATION:



LIKES:


DISLIKES:


QUIRKS:

Background Information

Operative Information

AUGMENTATIONS:



EQUIPMENT:



SKILLS:





FLAWS:







NOTES:

General Information

NAME: Kaitlyn Davenport

ALIASES // TITLES: Kay to people she’s met in person, Citizen K to the Labyrinth

SEX: Female

AGE: 34

APPEARANCE: In a word, tired. Kay often attempts to hide the dark circles and bags under her eyes with various amounts of concealer and eyeliner with mixed results. She keeps her hair slicked back more often the not and the faint scent of cheap pomade hangs about her constantly. Her gaze is difficult to hold for too long before it bores holes straight through your skull. She seems to always look past your face and into your mind. The rest of her face is a bit worse for wear. Not that it came like that, she just has a few marks (mostly scars) here and there. That being said, it’s not surprising she constantly looks over her shoulder any time she doesn’t have her back to a solid wall. The most notable mark on her face is the tell tale line going down the left side of her forehead of a false skull plate. Such implants allow for ease access to the brain and imply extensive and or elaborate cranial cybernetics underneath. In the way of tattoos she only has one, a minimalist design on her right shoulder of a squid wrapping its tentacles around a computer.

Maybe one day doctors will invent a cure, but in the meantime Kay remains allergic to smiling despite being and avid fan of both dry and gallows humor. In the same vein, she usually speaks with a very matter of fact tone. She says what she says and you can take it or leave it.

Her clothes are often wrinkled or very baggy and completely hide her figure. Oversized T-shirts are the norm for her. She seems to have a symbiotic relationship with her collared jacket, only taking it off to shower and that's merely assumed. It's faded all over, has a crude patches over the right elbow, and there's a tear near the left pocket but dammit it all if it ain't hers.

PREVIOUS OCCUPATION(S):
► Gang Member
► Cybersecurity Specialist for APEX Industries

CURRENT OCCUPATION:
Black-Hat Hacker
”If it has software I can fuck with it. Maybe if you kick a few extra stacks my way I’ll make sure no one fucks with your systems.”

Psychological Profile

PERSONAL GOAL: “Right now? Get enough money in a pile so I can throw it at someone and they’ll take me somewhere else; someplace far, far away. Where? Hell if I know. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. Why do you wanna know so damn bad?”

CAMPAIGN GOAL: "Been running small time gigs for a bunch of paranoid wackos thinking they have what it takes to be the next Pirate Party President. None of them could do it but a lot of them are willing to pay me for the honor of having firewalls installed on their servers that any hacker with a potato hooked up to a router and a free afternoon could break through. I guess if I had a goal it would be to get hired by as many asshats with delusions of grandeur before the end of the election cycle."

PERSONAL PHILOSOPHY: ”Most everyone is out for themselves and those who aren’t are either lying or stupid. Other than that, take what you want before someone takes it from you, but watch who you take it from.”

POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY: ”Everything’s fucked and the only solution is to burn it all down and start from scratch. Not that anything like that would ever happen. Too many people are content with the shitpile they’re stuck in.”

SECRETS: ”Fuck. Off.”

She’s not nearly as heartless as she likes to pretend she is. She cares what happens to the people around her no matter how much she denies it and tries to play the ice queen.

In addition to the heart she keeps locked away, she also keeps her damaged liver a secret. She had a jaunt with alcoholism that spiraled out of control and it was only a year ago that she managed to really put herself back together. Even still, she relapses from time to time and isn’t keen on sharing her struggle with addiction.

FEARS: Her greatest fear is dying in the Reclaim Zone or before she has the chance to achieve real freedom, to leave the mega regions behind and find somewhere to start over. Other than that, gunshots make her panic to the point of a total fight or flight response. Even loud, sharp noises easily startle her if she doesn't expect them.

REPUTATION: She has a reputation for being colder than ice and smart as a whip. She’s efficient and does exactly what you ask, no questions asked, even if she's rough around the edges.

LIKES:
► Coffee (Her blood is at least 5% java)
► Improving (The world of cyber security changes daily and she makes sure to stay updated)
► Hawaiian Pizza (Yes, she’s that kind of degenerate)
► Playing the Guitar (Idle hands reach for booze)
► Rain and Thunder (It’s soothing)
► Cooking (Girl's gotta eat)

DISLIKES:
► “Tainted” Coffee (Cream and sugar are for the weak)
► Passive Aggressiveness (Never halfass an insult)
► Picking on something weaker than yourself (Smaller animals and children are off limits)

QUIRKS:
► Restless Leg Syndrome
She took a knock to the noggin a long while ago and ever since then her right leg jitters whenever she sits or lays down for too long. It often makes it hard to sleep so she drinks coffee to stay awake after restless nights but caffeine makes the jitters worse and makes it even harder to fall asleep so she drinks more coffee and around and around it goes.

► Look Don’t Touch
Kay doesn’t like being touched at all. She will always go out of her way to avoid touching people in crowded places if she can help it and won’t even shake someone’s hand unless they offer first.

► Animal Lover
Yes, she absolutely must pet that dog if she can.

► Fidgety
She keeps small bits and bobs she fidgets with when she has nothing to do.

Background Information

"Same story you’ve heard from every other sap. Grew up poor, dad left, mom drank and snorted like the world was ending. When she was drinking she was swinging at me and if she was snorting she got handsy. Took a bottle to the face and decided enough was enough. I got involved with street gangs who told me to deliver shit for them and I could sleep in the corner of their little shack. I still had to beg and steal for enough to eat so it wasn’t that much different from living at home but at least everyone kept their hands to themselves.

Moved around a lot and eventually wound up with one of the more tech savvy groups. Called themselves “The Kraken’s Fist”. It was a stupid name but they weren’t quite the dumb fucks you’d expect. They had me running errands at first, but one guy, Darren, taught me how to work a computer and the difference between operand and open source long as I got his rocks off. They even let me help with their corporate espionage gigs and account raids. Got pretty damn good at it too. One day a bunch of tatted up dipshits shot my tatted up dipshits and I was out of a job and a house.

Eventually, I managed to catch a break when a hiring manager took pity on me. Still pisses me off when I remember the look he gave me as I walked in. Anyhow, I managed to keep my mouth shut and showed what a know. He passed his notes off to the higher ups and I landed a job as a cybersecurity specialist for an APEX Industries subsidiary, "Obsidian Tech" they called themselves. Did that for a while until I crossed paths with the worst decision of my life at the bar. The rest is none of your fucking business and yeah, it’s why I’ve got a big hunk of head bone missing. But, again, that’s none of your fucking business."

Operative Information

AUGMENTATIONS:

► EngiTech Series 2 Ocular Prosthetics
A set of cybernetic eyes for the working class. Despite her staunch aversion to cybernetics, she can't exactly go without eyes. They do their job well enough and give her 20/20 vision in the visible spectrum. Nothing special, no extra bells and whistles. The only interesting thing to note is that all wireless diagnostic functions have been disabled post manufacturing. For any system information to be gathered, the eyes must be removed and manually plugged into an external computer.

► FuryTech Augmented Reality Optics REMOVED

► APEX Industries Cranial Data Suite REMOVED

► Extropy, Inc. Neural Overlay REMOVED

► Amalgamation Reflex Enhancers REMOVED

EQUIPMENT:
► EngiTech Rosetta Stone Receiver
This device combines several ultra wide-band and ultra sensitive receivers tuned to different signal types and ranges. consolidates the whole package down to a solid polymer box about the size of a paperback novel. Cellular, satellite, radio, WLAN, infrared, bluetooth, and even some low decibel radar. If it sends out a wireless signal, she can detect it and do all sorts of fun things when she connects it to a computer.

► Amalgamation Onyx Series Laptop
It's not so much a laptop as it is a mobile workstation. This folding, 3 screen monster is the most valuable thing Kay has ever owned and for good reason. The beastly weight of it is a testament to the amount of hardware it contains and leaves no wonder as to why most other computers can't keep up. Multitasking is a breeze and even massive simulations run like greased lightning. She uses the ungodly power of this machine to break through encryptions and slip past security systems.

► Amalgamation GateKeeper Hardware
Cybersecurity is useful for everyone. This little doodad is essentially a computer without the keyboard, monitor, graphics card, or any sort of manual input method but filled to bursting with cutting edge security software. It's one singular function is to vet all data that comes through it via a hardwire connection and either approve or dismantle the data. Though not impenetrable, it's one tough nut to crack.

► Various Cords and Adapters
You never know when you'll need an RVI to USB 5.0 adapter.

SKILLS:
► Cyber Security (Break something apart enough times and you'll eventually learn how it's put together)
► Hacking (While not all powerful, she's fairly capable against even corporate security)
► Tactical Kitchen Wizard (You'd be forgiven for believing her to be a professional chef after trying her macaroni chilli or squid fried rice)
► 6 String Picker (Merely a hobby but you tend to get good at something you do for 10 years or more)

FLAWS:
► Caffeine Dependent (She’s basically useless until she’s had her morning cup of Joe)
► Untrusting (No one does things “just to be nice“ so what’s your angle?)
► Recovering Alcoholic (Sober 112 6 days)
► Overly Blunt (Tact? I don't even know her)

PERSONAL GOAL: We must restore the purity of the human psyche.

CAMPAIGN GOAL: The council of a single polity is ultimately irrelevant; no outcome of the election will change society at large. Access to the campaign is merely a means to a greater end.

My goals in this campaign are tertiary to the passing question of who wins the vote. This period of heightened political tensions is potentially useful. While the system is not itself threatened by this instability, instability is a necessary prerequisite for change. I can use this political race to destabilize the comfortable status quo, and with it, show the masses that Futility can be opposed. My goals are nothing less than the inspiration of total revolution. My means for accomplishing this must involve the powers of the system being employed against one another. It is possible to turn the players of the system on one another through strategic provocations; with intelligent application of selective pressures we may use the system's own powers against it. Corporations will destroy each other. Politicians will discredit one another. And ultimately people will come to see that it isn't a matter of which side is wrong, but that every side is wrong.

SECRETS: Obviously, all of my activist actions are secret. This is not done out of shame, but rather necessity; the system of course devotes much of its efforts to correcting aberrant behavior as a means of sustaining itself.

FEARS: I fear nothing less than the total obliteration of the human soul. What truly scares me is how so many of my patients fear the mundane - death, bees, car accidents, infidelity, crime - yet comfortably accept the existential threat to mankind Futility has posed. Why is it we fear the simple robber or the inevitable end of life, yet we unhesitatingly accept the extinction of human will?

REPUTATION: I work hard to cultivate a good social reputation in the Twin Cities Sprawl. I have been active in the medical community for over twenty years, and have seen thousands of patients in my time as a private practitioner. My philosophy of medicine is the embrace of a holistic approach, and my patients know me well for caring about them beyond giving them a pill and sending them on their way. I have published many peer-reviewed papers on the importance of recovery and personal insight in the process of psychiatric care, which has distinguished me from my fellow practitioners; a majority of whom focus most on achieving and maintaining a stable status quo primarily through medicine alone. I routinely volunteer for charitable causes in the Twin Cities Sprawl community, attending fundraisers or working shifts at understaffed community clinics.

LIKES: Classical music, hiking, academic challenges, fava beans and a nice Chianti, reading, model aircraft and rocketry, historical documentaries, engaging dramas. And if we’re being honest, sappy romantic fiction.

DISLIKES: Cybernetic society, drug abusers, empty socialization, naked immorality, willful ignorance, pop music that substitutes autotune for talent, pineapple on pizza.

QUIRKS: I do not have ‘quirks’. I am a rational and well-reasoned individual fully capable of controlling my behavior and actions as however I find necessary. I typically lack the emotionally-driven impulses of many people; petty jealousies, lusts, and desires that give other people their 'quirks' all mean little to me.

Medical Doctor: I’m not an M.D. for show. While I’m specialized in treating the mind, I have enough medical experience to treat general illnesses and injuries, and I can apply emergency medicine if need arises. I can also typically get my hands on some controlled substances without too much suspicion.

Superficial Charm: I have always found people easy to read. It’s a simple matter of logical deduction and personal observation to determine what to say and do to get on most people’s good side and convince them to do what you want them to do.

Chemist: Explosives, drugs, poisons - these things are easy to make for yourself with a few basic tools and compounds, if you know how.

Technologically Deficient: It is difficult to avoid technology in a cybernetic society. I may be intelligent, but no human can do mental math as fast or complex as an electronic brain can. There’s no denying the little inconveniences one faces when they’re disconnected from a connected world.

Emotionless: I know what emotions are. I know how to express the emotion I wish to show. I know how to recognize them in others. But I don’t seem to actually feel them, or if I do, they don’t change the way I think and perceive the world like they do for others.

Secret Life: My family, my employees, my associates - they don’t know what acts I really engage in. It’s an isolated life, and it requires keeping a lot of secrets.

Non-Combative: Violence will most certainly be necessary. The system uses violence to sustain itself, and we must use violence to combat it. But I, personally, am not terribly skilled in such matters. I know which end of a gun goes bang, and I know how to throw a punch. That's about it. It's important to be realistic about one's capabilities, and I know I'm no match for your typical thug, security officer, or soldier in a direct confrontation.

“Do you think I am a sadist?”

An inaudible mumble was his captive’s only answer. The man stared, glassy-eyed, at the blank walls past his tormentor. He doubted his captive could speak, anyway. His voice had long since gone out from all the screaming. Only the buzz of a single fluorescent bulb overhead and the song of thousands of crickets filled the remote cabin.

“I am not a sadist,” his tormenter insisted. “I derive no pleasure from this.”

Carefully applying a scalpel and forceps, his tormenter carefully pulled another bundle of nerve endings free of their metal contacts, pulling metal wire down the entire length of the man’s augmented arm. The room was filled with the loud rattle of metal links slamming against one another, as the chains that held his arm tightly to the blood-soaked boards underneath strained with his instinctual, futile struggle. The man began to hyperventilate from the pain, gasping for breath.

Ordinarily, a surgeon would never attempt microsurgery using hand tools - but preservation of function wasn’t really his goal, in this instance. “Do you see this?” his tormentor asked, pulling free an extremely fine, delicate thread, about the width of a human hair. “Do you know what this is?”

The man let out a long, ragged breath, shaking in place. “This is a chain of afferent nerve fibers. It connects your body’s nociceptors to your spinal cord. Thousands and thousands of these line every part of the human body. It is what proves we are alive! Without them, you could feel nothing.”

He paused, carefully setting the delicate strand aside. “...except it isn’t. This is a metal wire.”

It had taken hours, but finally, the last of the nervous connections had been carefully removed. The cybernetic arm lay on the board, bloody, fully severed, reduced to its true nature - a lifeless hunk of silicone, plastic, and metal. His tormentor stood slowly, carefully, taking the artificial limb and setting it aside on a table. “Your body’s nerve endings were ripped from their natural housing and wired into this… thing. How did this happen?”

It was a rhetorical question. One didn’t blunder into Amalgamation’s most advanced bio-active cybernetics by happenstance. This mockery of living flesh would have taken an advanced cybernetics lab hours to implant, ensuring each nerve fiber in the man’s arm was carefully mapped into place, preserving the sensations of touch, temperature, proprioception, and myriad others all within an entirely artificial limb.

With his voice completely worn out, the man could only manage a low, long moan, choked with sobs. His glazed-over eyes sluggishly turned to follow his tormentor, as he carefully placed the scalpel and forceps back on the surgical tray next to him, where all of his tools were neatly arranged. “Hhhh…” he rasped, unable to speak.

“Hm?” His tormentor turned to face him. “...Is it hard for you? You’ve probably had an Electronic Brain longer than you can remember. They are quite resistant to external interference! But once you have internal access to the body’s central nervous system, it really is quite easy to short out such a device with even a small electrical impulse.” He sits on a stool, a look of curiosity in his gray eyes. “Is it hard for you to think clearly?”

“That’s truly a shame,” he continued, after a moment. “Me? I’m used to it. All that I’ve learned, everything I think, are my thoughts, my intelligence. You...you haven’t relied on your own intelligence in decades, have you? The brain is just like any muscle. When you don’t use it, it atrophies. In a way, I’m sparing you. Even this isn’t nearly as bad as a slow, psychotic death by SPECS.”

The mention of death brought a new struggle from his captive. He shook his head slowly, sadly. “I’m sorry. You’re going to die here. Too much of you has been...replaced. When I remove the rest of your cybernetics, your remaining body won’t be able to sustain life for more than a few hours. Maybe a day.”

With that, the man grew still. Even with his compromised cognition, the resignation of impending death was easy to register in his eyes. “Now then. I’m going to take a quick break and sanitize my workspace. After that, we’ll start on your other arm.”

---

“Dr. Parker Howland, M.D.”

He smiled, waving a hand through his short, sandy-blond hair. Amusement danced in his gray eyes. “It’s a wonderful evening, isn’t it?”

Indeed it was. The city’s neon lights cast everything in a warm, multicolored glow. The vibrant hum of people filled the air with an electric energy, people filled with anticipation for the public debate. Representatives from each of the major campaigns would be in attendance tonight, to inform the voting public of their stance on the major issues in the run-up to the 2064 elections.

The security checkpoint was busy, as well. Dozens of minor staffers were coming and going, and they needed their IDs checked virtually at every turn. The security guard’s voice was bored, that of a man whose sole ambition at present was to get through the end of a long shift at work. “Which campaign do you work for, Dr. Howland?”

“Ah, I work for the Twin Cities Health Department, actually. I’m on the board of the Campaign Health Oversight Committee. I’m here to coordinate between local medical facilities, emergency services, and the campaigns’ own medical staffs. Our job is to ensure everyone is able to access city services during the-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” the guard said, handing back his ID badge. “Look up.”

Howland obliged, smiling upwards at the lens of a conspicuous security camera.

“You’re on the pre-approved list,” the guard said with all the emotion of describing drying paint. “The venue’s security system will recognize you and let you through to the backstage area. If there’s any secured areas the door doesn’t open for you, it’s not a glitch, you’re just not allowed in there. Next!”

“Thank you for your help. Have a good night.” He took his ID badge and tucked it into his shirt pocket. Thankfully, the inside of the venue wasn’t nearly as crowded, with security controlling access and directing the public to the open seating areas. The inevitable throng of reporters inside weren’t particularly interested in a public official, and Howland walked past them with only a friendly nod of greeting. Just inside the entrance, he knew, would be plenty of virtual resources to direct newcomers and campaign staff as to where to go, but Howland ignored them. Instead, he made his way to the larger, lower-class of the venue’s catering rooms. Long years of experience had taught him the best way to orient himself at a large social function.

Standing around a table, drinking soykaf and eating cheap finger-foods, were a large gaggle of young staffers. Interns, volunteers, assistants; regardless of which campaign they worked for, they were all more or less interchangeable, and they invariably had more in common with each other than with their bosses. Lacking in real work to do, finding a congregation of them wherever catering services could be found was always a sure way to orient oneself by listening in on their un-guarded conversation.

“...Mayor Gatch is sure to have his hands full this time,” a girl with pink hair was saying.

“Nah, that’s what they said last time,” a spiky-haired twenty-something shot back, cynically. “Does anyone even remember Campbell, now?”

A skinny kid with glowing cybernetics in his eyes looked away, his eyes darting back and forth as he scanned over information only he could see. “Who?”

“Exactly!”

Pink-hair shook her head. “Yeah, but have you seen the news lately? That Amalgamation lobbyist who was found dead - they said every single one of his augs was ripped out of him and he was just left to die like that.”

Spiky-hair tilted his head. “...So? Shit happens in the Reclaim. Probably just some E-Drug junkie looking for shit to sell for a quick fix.”

Pink-hair threw her hands up, an unmistakable how do I get through to these people? gesture. “You think some stim junkie kidnapped an Amalgamation executive strapped to the nines with their best augs and pawned them off to some street ripper? I think I see why the Pirate Party doing so poorly in the polls if you’re their best and brightest.”

Howland smiled at that. “...it was Apex, that’s where the smart money would go.”

Pink-hair turned, pointing at him. “Exactly!” She looked back at the others with some triumph.

Cyber-eye nodded. “The old man’s right. Who would want a live example of Amalgamation’s best augs? Their direct competition. The police are gonna pin it on some local street tough, declare the case closed, and suddenly get a very large donation, you mark my words.”

Howland laughed. “I’m not sure old was necessary in that sentence.” All three of them gave him a look, more-or-less in unison. “...ah, well, I didn’t say it was inaccurate...hmph.” He turned, to help himself to a complimentary cup of cheap soykaf. “I’ll remember this when you lot all turn forty.”

“You’ll long be senile with SPECS by then,” Pink-hair teased.

They laughed, and Howland settled in, laughing along with them. He had plenty of time to get to work, but it was the small, human moments that always proved the most valuable.

General Information

NAME: Amelia Batalia

ALIASES // TITLES: Glory. Chosen as part of an alias initiative to help protect the identity of security operators at Knight Enterprise.

SEX: Female

AGE: Twenty five.

APPEARANCE:

Amelia stands at a grand six feet and two inches tall, which is far above the normal average for females. This is one of the most obvious indicators that Amelia hit the genetic lottery. Amelia’s skin is a fair cream color, and is blemish free thanks to an intense self-care routine. Amelia’s short, bob cut hair is light brown and frequently a bit messy. Amelia’s eyes are green, and she was blessed with unerring 20/20 vision. However, her eyes typically appear pink due to the special contacts she wears on a regular basis.

Amelia’s overall body shape is toned and athletic, which is both mandated and maintained by her chosen career. Amelia’s bust is fairly generous, another example of how she hit the genetic lottery. For clothing, what Amelia wears depends on what she’s doing at the time, but the outfit she typically defaults to is a white shirt with a dark blue jacket with a yellow interior and yellow faux-fur collar lining. This dark blue jacket also has a layer of kevlar sewn into to provide Amelia with some additional protection. On the right shoulder of this jacket is a Knight Enterprise patch.

Amelia also keeps a pair of aviator style sunglasses propped up on her forehead, though she does have a case for them if needed. Amelia also has a pair of heavy-duty shooting gloves that she wears. The right glove is missing it’s index finger cover by design, and allows for the shooter to maintain all flexibility in their trigger finger so as to ensure maximum control and accuracy.

Amelia also wears a pair of denim hotpants with a brown leather belt. Hooked into this belt is a brown leather holster and tactical pouch combo. This holster is also bound to her right thigh by two additional straps and is supported by double band webbing wrapping around her waist. Amelia wears one stocking on her left leg, as when she tried wearing one on both legs it caused too many issues with the holster. Finally, Amelia wears a pair of heavy-duty work boots that have both steel-toe inserts and reinforced soles to give Amelia a firm grip on nearly any surface, even ones that are typically too slick for good contact.

OCCUPATION: Amelia’s current occupation is employment at a small security firm known as Knight Enterprise. They’re barely big enough to be on the map, but their overall lack of corruption and cheaper pricing means that they manage to score big contracts from time to time. Currently, Amelia is contracted out as general campaign security, meaning that she’s travelling to basically anywhere a speech or rally is being held to provide on-site security.

Psychological Profile

PERSONAL GOAL: Amelia doesn’t really have a personal investment in the current election, but she is contracted out to provide security for the duration of it, so she is obligated to remain around and protect all speaking candidates, regardless of platform.

Outside of the campaign, Amelia has a desire to bust some of the members of the old gangs she fell in with. Most of the people there, at least as far as Amelia remembers, were just lost kids that couldn't get a job. However, high up on the ladder were some genuinely bad people, and Amelia wants to do her best to see them behind bars.

CAMPAIGN GOAL: Amelia wants to see the world improved and personally views The Central Party as the best party to do that, but doesn't support Joshua Gatch due to the fact that unemployment rose while he was mayor. Unfortunately, nobody else has garnered the support of the central party and Amelia has been left politically hamstrung because of it. Interestingly, despite her overall favoring of the central party's ideals, Amelia privately favors Chen Dao due to his outreach towards less-advantaged people with his augmentation monasteries.

However, Amelia is still publicly neutral and doesn't openly advocate for any one candidate as part of her security contract.

PERSONAL PHILOSOPHY: Amelia is a moral and upstanding person that generally doesn’t deal under the table. Unlike some of the stories that come out of The Enforcers, Amelia doesn’t take bribes and doesn’t like to deviate from standing orders unless it’s proven to be absolutely necessary. She also doesn’t like to gossip while on the job, and remembers that company secrets are, in fact, company secrets and not something to disclose on a regular basis.

POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY: Amelia’s political life is rather uninteresting, but she does generally support The Central Party since she views it as the least problematic of all the parties. She knows that it’s not perfect, but she likes the fact that it doesn’t seem to have an agenda that actively forces people to change their lifestyle. She doesn’t exactly approve of The Central Parties dealings with some of the more extreme megacorporations, but tells herself that hopefully, in the end, the government will “wash its hands” when the time comes.

SECRETS: When Amelia was a teen, she used to fall in with street gangs and various muscle groups because she grew up in a poorer area and it was difficult to find sustainable work. She didn’t quite do anything illegal herself, but the mere involvement with some of them would be grounds for a thorough interrogation, especially since Amelia now works in private security.

FEARS: Amelia’s greatest fear is losing her job in security, since it’s been one of the most stable jobs that she’s ever had and she had to work incredibly hard to earn the position. Aside from that, she does have the general fear that she’ll be caught up in a firefight and have her life ended by a single lucky shot, though she tries to remind herself that this is the risk she accepted when she chose to work in the field of security.

REPUTATION: How the world views Amelia is generally dependent on their own moral standing. People who like to operate lawfully generally consider Amelia to be a likable person that is an easy hire for most situations. Those who like to get their hands dirty typically try to avoid hiring Amelia, as her upstanding nature will typically cause them a headache since she’ll typically be at odds with their disregard for protocol.

LIKES:



DISLIKES:



QUIRKS:

Background Information

Amelia’s background is fairly standard for someone growing up below the poverty line in the modern era. Her parents were poor, and thus she was also poor. Luckily for Amelia, she did have the advantage of winning the genetic lottery. Her physical capabilities, being above average, allowed her to excel in rapidly growing job fields like security. Since she didn’t have the money for a gym membership, Amelia honed her body by running and jumping around the slums of the reclaim zone that she grew up in, effectively teaching herself parkour as she went.

However, Amelia didn’t get into a security firm right away. They simply weren’t looking for new hires in her area, and so Amelia fell in with some local gangs and muscle groups. Amelia was kept rather low tier in the gangs, partially because she wasn't very good at actually delivering threats to people, and partially because the people in power wanted to keep as many people as downtrodden as possible in order to stay in power. However, Amelia's life with the gangs was shattered when she was told to intimidate a shopkeeper for protection money on her own. She was given a screwdriver and told to put it through their kneecap should they not have the money. Amelia bounced along happily, as this was just normal business to her and people usually coughed the money up pretty quickly. She was also eager to "prove herself" after having been near the bottom of the ladder for months.

When Amelia arrived at the shop, she picked the lock on the back door and snuck inside. There she found the owner, and her worldview shattered. The owner was old and withered, confined to a wheelchair with his legs mangled beyond repair. He glared at Amelia angrily before beginning to shout at her. "Oh, here to 'collect' again, are you?! Huh, punk?!" He began to wheel himself towards Amelia aggressively, and Amelia turned and ran, dropping the screwdriver as she went.

Confronted with the harsh reality of her gang work, Amelia's view shattered. She never went back to the "hub house" to report what had happened. She instead ducked into a random bar to hide. The gangs never really bothered with the bars, mainly because they were one of the few places in the slums that made enough money to afford security. Luckily for Amelia, there was a recruiting officer there that night. With nowhere else to go, Amelia begged for a job. Thankfully, he said yes.

Amelia's former comrades in crime never heard from her in person again, but a few news reports featuring her have riled them up. They're furious that she's "gone legit" and abandoned their operation. However, thanks to the alias initiative that Knight Enterprise put in place, they know little about her current whereabouts, and even then only a few remember her. However, those few have become powerful people within the gangs and might become a thorn in Amelia's side should they learn where she's working.

Amelia has been working for Knight Enterprise since she was twenty three, and was only recently assigned to the campaign trail after a college of hers developed a really nasty case of shingles and had to be submitted to a local hospital for treatment. Knight Enterprise was never one to leave a contract short staffed, and so Amelia was dispatched to fill in the gap.

Operative Information

AUGMENTATIONS: None currently.

EQUIPMENT:



SKILLS:

Marksmanship: Amelia is a good shot with her pistol, and can even manage good long-range shots due to the great power retention over distance that the powerful .50 AE rounds provide.

Close Combat Training: Given that Amelia’s primary weapon is a pistol, she’s also opted to train herself in hand to hand combat for defense in the event that someone manages to rush her at a bad moment. In specific, she’s been trained in a mix of boxing and wrestling.

Attention to detail: Amelia’s security training involved picking out minute differences between setups and paying careful attention to security cameras, and as such she’s capable of spotting small differences that would indicate something has been tampered with, and she’s good at watching a dozen security screens at once for suspicious activity.

Athletics: Amelia doesn’t skimp on her personal fitness, and has gotten some more official training on parkour ever since she joined Knight Enterprise. Amelia’s stamina allows her to run for approximately forty minutes without stopping.

FLAWS:

“Protocol dictates…”: Amelia is extremely strict about protocol. This is a bit of a double edged sword in that while it makes her look good to her superiors, it means that it also takes her a long time to accomplish some things that could be accomplished much quicker by some others. As an example: sending all evidence off for testing and letting the “thinkers” at Knight Enterprise get it correct instead of risking getting something wrong. Meanwhile, the person responsible has already managed to get out of the scene and is well on their way to a safehouse.

Structurally dependant: Amelia is highly dependant on having a good chain of command, clear orders, and consistent communication with the other members of the security detail. Should she be forced to improvise without any kind of commanding officer, her ability to effectively respond to a situation will be extensively hindered.

Rigidity: Amelia has been given extensive scenario training, and unfortunately it’s been effective at drilling specific situations into her without room for adaptation. Amelia will frequently be quick to come up with a plan, but her plans are almost always the same and simple pattern recognition will allow people to interpret what she’ll do next with ease.

Overzealousness: Amelia is frequently keen to see something through to completion, even if it’s something small that really doesn’t need to be figured out. Thus, her time is easily consumed by menial work, like filling out situation reports. When Amelia dedicates herself to a task she works until it’s done, frequently at the expense of getting anything else done.

NOTES:

Amelia’s personal vehicle is an Engitech Mirage motorcycle.

General Information

NAME:

S’venia Skor

ALIASES // TITLES:

Svei

The Truth

The Purple Streak

SEX:

F

AGE:

30

APPEARANCE:

S'venia stands at the 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 brown 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 ordinarily visible, can be seen when recording as an orange ring appears over her eyes. The set of three hexagonal tattoos to the left of the eye is 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 one 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 depending 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:

South City Blues:

S'venia works for the South City Blues as a journalist. Her job has her traversing the city in search of stories to tell. She has a deep network of contacts that send her information, what they saw or what is going down. A regular part of her job is traveling the district. As such, she has come to know a great deal of the residents. She has traversed, with caution, the war has torn outer regions and has troves of videos of the carnage. She has crossed across the homeless within and heard their voices. From here, she connects the dots and finds a story to tell that will not only not get her fired, but also get enough views to pay the bills. Sometimes she is sent to cover an event. While she does not live the most glamorous life, her job still keeps the lights on and allows her to continue to push for a change.

Dexter Campbell's Campaign Team -

S'venia worked, and still does in some sense, as a communication director to try and help get Dexter Campbell elected to the mayor's chair. He had a vision for the people, one that S'venia thought could be sprung up the political ladder. S'venia had grand plans for what the campaign could do. Unfortunately, as the world saw, the Ripper as it became named saw to it that Dexter would be wounded and it nearly took out Gatch as well. Shortly thereafter, all traces of Dexter vanished. The team fractured and went there separate way from there, to S'venias protests. Dexter had started something, and S'venia want to continue it. She could not convince any of the others and she can not blame them for their decision. This world consumes those that seek to shine a light of the filth. She sometimes brings up her old files to see if she missed any connections, any greater story as to how everything happened but everything appears to be known. She wonders what ended up happening to Dex. The photos of the would-be assassin still exist, hidden among layers and layers of security.

The Truth: Under the Umbrella of the Broker.

S'venia is The Truth, a virtual persona she has adopted to both keep her safe and to build her brand. She knows that change is coming. The politicians and mega-corps don't see it, but S'venia knows the people are ready. She has watched as they witnessed countless atrocities. From the war-torn hellscape that the corporations have enacted on our borders to the gangs running free, they have experienced this hell on earth. She knows the people are ready for more. She wants to be the one to show them how to get it.

She is afforded this luxury because she is under the protection of the Information Broker. After the team split after the debate, S'venia resumed a more active role as the Truth and as such, came further into the shade of the Brokers umbrella. She knows little of the individual who holds the title, her only interactions come with their agents, but the stories of them are concerning. When an individual gets too involved, and too on the radar of those who with the power to make people disappear, the Broker calls them in. What happens next is still a bit of a mystery. Some say they are moved to a safe location to continue their arts, others say something more nefarious happens. One thing S'venia knows, for sure, is that if the day does come and they try and take her away, she may not go as willingly as she let on initially.

Psychological Profile

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

S'venia knows the people need a voice to unite behind to go after these corporations and their death squads. She wants to be that voice.

CAMPAIGN GOAL: (Why are you on the campaign trail? What are you trying to do for your relevant platform?)

S'venia’s goal is simple; for her to start making progress on her platform, she needs to learn more about this corrupt world. She has seen the horrors that have been brought down on her district, most haven't; if they have, they turned a blind eye. S'venia is here to expose the terrible situations to the masses. She has traversed the war-torn outskirts and has numerous videos of the mayhem these corporations have started. She has seen many children lose their parents, children, their futures, and all this in the name of corporate greed. The truth of the matter is this is not okay. The masses have seen the bodies in the streets and have turned a blind eye to the status quo. S'venia wants the people to not have to hide inside their homes as the corps fight it out to decide which one gets to bend and fuck them over.

S'venia has seen the homeless crowd the streets. The masses have turned a blind eye to them, but she hasn't. She has seen the people with bodies broken by unsafe work conditions and watched as their children get pressed into gangs for security. She has watched the people of this district make terrible decisions to survive, and so have the masses.

S'venia is here to expose the system and bring power back to the people, but thus far she is alone in her crusade. She is one voice. She can not hope to bring the people back to their rightful glory without learning what she is up against. She plans to find a way into one of these local elections and use her talents to get them elected. Get her foot in the door if you will. From there, she will learn what skeletons hide in which closets, what secrets can be learned, and how to expose them for the monsters they are. She got a taste of the process with Dex, she wants to take it another step with this cycle.

In the virtual, the Truth shall set her free.

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

"I am a harbinger of change. I am but one voice, but soon I hope to conduct the symphony that we united shall sing back at the darkness. The corporations have turned a blind eye to us. They think we are weak and we listened."

S'venia believes there is a clear divide between good and evil but that there is not a clear divide between a good and an evil person. She has watched as ordinary people are forced to do evil things in the name of survival. She has also written about the "good" that a corporation does as it tries to shape its image. She sees the contradictions as clear as day. She wants to expose them and have those who have suffered remembered. The corrupt have had their time, she says, and it's time for them to reap what they sowed.

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.)

S'venias goal is ultimately the gift of choice for the people and the power to be held accountable. She wants the mega-corps who've waged wars on her city to be forced in front of the people and have their verdicts decided by those who have suffered under them. She wants the politicians who have taken "campaign contributions" exposed and voted out. She wants the people to have a voice and to not live in fear of using it.

She most closely identifies with the Pirate Party but has been put off by them as of late. From their shadow campaign where they act like the others, not revealing the source of their funding, making her regret her initial support. Although there are still numerous members of the party that she is close with.

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

Her role as the Truth is here most closely held secret. From her videos about the political crisis caused by a specific one, to the dangers of the corporations, S'venia has said a lot of things about a lot of people. If someone were to trace it back to her, she knows she must accept her fate.

S'venia often trades in secrets. She learns a lot on her journeys around the district, and from her colleagues. From the location of a bounty to a gang to the secrets she overheard to the source of them, she often finds a way to make a bad situation worse for others. If it was revealed she did this, it would mark her and ruin her reputation as a journalist.

She has seen more than she shares. She has troves of data, video, and recordings of influential individuals involved in less than legal situations. While she sometimes uses this as ammo to fire back at them as The Truth, the fact that such a trove exists makes it a threat if it was revealed.

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

Corporate death squads.
Becoming consumed by the filth and becoming another cog.
Losing my voice and will to bring change.
The further loss of our rights
Further environmental collapse
Enforcers

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

S'venia is still a fly under the radar of those in the know. While her articles can fluctuate in popularity and her name brought up, she is not someone who draws a crowd in real life. Her pieces are fluff. They make the powerful feel secure, the popular feel adored, and their fans seen.

When she adopts the persona of The Truth she is still relatively unknown. While she has a small base of followers who listen, she is still dwarfed by the sheer number of cogs. She is slowly trying to make an inroad into gaining a bigger audience. Her voice is not enough, she needs to find some more explosive content to put in front of it.

As a campaign member, she has a mixed reception. While on one hand she handled her role with class and did have some success, on the other the stigma associated with what happened still exists.

LIKES: (Feel free to list a few.)

Friends and people

Old books and movies, the new stuff just are too edited, you know?

Writing

Talking at great lengths about positive strides no matter where.

Colorful hair colors

Nicknames, both giving and receiving.

Technology and gadgets
DISLIKES: (Same as above)

Lack of focus. If you can't lock yourself into the moment, then how can you expect to secure your future.

Indecisiveness

Corporations and gangs.

Overly optimistic personalities. A strange dislike as her public persona is the same. Yet she can not stand the type of people who hope for a better day but make no attempt to bring it about. Most optimists speak simply of the corporations making changes on their own accord. Most of them scream that better days are coming if we show them what we have to deal with. They need to tell them directly.

Overly augmented individuals. Mental decay is not worth it.

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

She is always humming a song. It has no correlation to a song that may be playing at the bar, nor the song sung by the singer during karaoke, but it is clearly remarkable. When asked what that song is, she will provide an answer. If one were to search the song, it would always end up being incorrect.

She is continually adjusting her posture to ensure the perfect balance between perfect and comfortable. To those who have ideal posture, she will appear to not be great, but those with bad posture will feel like she goes enough to consider it 'perfect.'

Background Information

S'venia lived a quiet start to her life. She spent her days exploring, listening, and learning about the developing world around her. Her parents were nothing more than cogs in the corporate machine, and they slaved away to eke out a living. While they were not poor, they were a long life away from luxury. She at least had food on the table for dinner but never really had the fanciest of toys or clothes. Even though their conversations were composed of wanting, they did little to upset the status quo. While unable to provide a lot, her parents did strive to make sure she was educated. Instead of trusting the ever crumbling public systems, she instead spent most of her time away from home at some of the cheapest private schools. While they were not much better than their crumbling counterparts, they at least attracted some teachers who wanted to teach. During these years, she was often distracted by the world around her, and she often allowed her imagination to replace the images of the decaying world with something else.

As she grew into her teen years, she discovered she had a natural ability to write and excellent attention to detail. She could recall minute details of conversations, and her writing style lent itself to these detailed stories. She eventually decided to focus her attention on her future and took a passion for journalism. She went to the best college a poor person could get loans for, made a lot of friends along the way, and graduated with decent grades and a disdain for the current state of higher education. Quickly, S'venina learned that the job market was overcrowded in every regard, and even with a degree, finding a job was not an easy task. It took a lot of convincing, a lot of favors for a friend, and hours of hard work before she got work as an unpaid intern at a local news station, the South City Blues. She has since made it up the ladder in the years since and is a full-time journalist that has somehow earned the trust of her editors. Even though she still has the same attention to detail, she has chosen to omit specific information from her stories. Nothing serious, but if an unpleasant aspect could paint the wrong person in a dangerous way would end up in the trash.

Five years ago, she lost her family to a random accident. Some poor residents tried to rob the wrong person, triggering their security detail, which resulted in an unfortunate massacre of both the perp and innocents alike. The story is not one that is too all well known, the powerful have a way to alter the truth. The news talked about the attack on the wealthy businessman and how his security detail bravely defended their client. No one spoke about the three hundred rounds fired by their guns, nor did they talk about the two dozen people killed who had no part to play. Her parents were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. The news still judged them as guilty, even though their only crime was to stay late at work and leave at the wrong time.

They never once spoke out about this unjust system. Her parents kept their silence and worked as useful cogs for the machine. They warned S'venia to not speak out about those in power because they had a way of making people disappear. When she started going to school, they warned her of not reading too deep into the stories involving the powerful because there could be some dangerous truths hiding in plain sight. When she became a journalist, they drove home the point to never publish anything negative about the mega-corps because they would bury her and make sure she never found work again. They kept their mouths shut, worked their lives away, and were still consumed by the filth.

S'venia, however, could not speak out about this injustice. She could not lend her voice, her writing even, to the cause as to do so would mean her fate would end up the same. After many weeks of grieving, a lot of visits from friends, and extended family, she finally vented to a close confidant. Her voice was no longer her own. She spoke about a dream she never knew she wanted. A world where the people could hold the strong and powerful accountable and bind their fates to the will of the people. A world where we, the people, held power. An existence not tied to one's income but to one's voice. After the whole tirade S'venia collapsed exhausted and emotional. If it were any other friend, the end might have been different. Yet it was one of her oldest friends, a man named Ajax Quanta, that helped her. He listened as she told of a new life, listened as she broke down as reality came back, and told her she was not alone.

He would check in on S'venia over the next few weeks. After S'venia finally leveled off from the emotional high, he revealed his association with a group. They called themselves agents and were a group that worked for the Broker. He explained the Broker offered protection for those who have the will to put themselves at risk to say their message, no matter the form. Art, comics, videos, and everything else still fell under the protection of the Broker. They specialized in keeping everything physical and would then upload it to the Virtual, concealing the identities of those under their umbrella.

S'venia eventually accepted their services and thus began her new life as The Truth. She worked her life as S'venia as a journalist, and she kept writing the same fluff pieces about what the public idol was doing and what corporation was making strides to be better. Every story that cast a shadow over someone's character would make it back home. She would connect the dots, find the truth, and release her voice in full as The Truth to expose the hypocrisy. She has gained a small following in her corner in the virtual, her avatar being nothing more than a loudspeaker on top of an old newsstand with articles detailing the facts of the conversation. Everyone is free to stand and listen, and to grab a copy, whether they want to help the world to change, is up to them.

In today's heightened political tensions as the battle rages for the 'large' council seat, S'venia has been caught up in the coverage of the events. She has been careful to only report the positive sides of each candidate. The bad outway the good and The Truth shall be busy saying the quiet parts loud to the people. She is attempting to find an inroad to any campaign she can and hopes her job does the dirty work for her.

Operative Information

AUGMENTATIONS: (What sort of Cyberware are you equipped with? If in doubt, ask me.)

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 photos and videos to be shot 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 inserted on the side of her head (a requirement by the government). While it does little her voice can't, it still marks her with the markings of someone with a covert camera.

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

Engitech All-in-one computer -

The Engintech All-in-one model that S’venia uses is a few years old, yet she can't find it in her heart to replace it yet. It is sleek, and portable, as it merely looks like she wrapped some fabric across the latter half of her forearm. When she wants to use the device, she simply unwraps it, and it extends inwards for her to use with her free hand. She mainly uses the device for editing but may take a note or two.

Engitech ESCP-101 "Carrier of Justice" -

The SCP-101 is a simple, 9mm pistol that is both compact and lightweight in designs. ESCP-101 is billed as the “everyday” type of weapon, meant to go with you and be hidden unless drawn. It has a brown handle and metal finish. It is not the low-end pistol offered by Engitech, nor is it the highest end. Her family purchased it for her when she accepted the job with News Station 117 as they were worried about the worse neighborhood. S’venia goes to the range at least once a week to keep sharp. Her jackets have an “Ever-Secure holster” added on the inner left side of her jackets. The holster bonds with the material of the coat, and the company bills the holster as a “fast, secure, and hidden” way of holstering your weapon. S'venia has it holstered in a way that she can toggle safety and fire from the pocket of her jacket. The holder itself is easy to remove and rebond onto other areas.

Engitech Eye in the Sky drone –

A small, round, dimple laden drone that offers a wide-angle lens on its camera that delivers crisp and clear video and still shots. S’venia managed to snag this beast off the “secondary market” for well below its retail value about a year ago and it has become a staple of her interviews, as well as her normal life. Boasting a flight time of four hours, one hour if you take videos, the Eye in the Sky is always on the deck for S’venia when she needs it. The Eye in the Sky also features a current generation repulsorlift technology that is both silent and efficient. S’venia often uses it on her walks to and from her apartment to be the eyes in the back of her head. The done comes programmed with a track and follow mode, live streaming the feed to the special glasses that were included in the purchase. Furthermore, the camera and drone controls can be used through the Engitech Eye-Spy camera lens that she wears already. Directional control is either achieved through voice commands, or with the special glove that was, again, included with purchase.
The Drone itself weighs in at around twenty-five pounds and has a metallic finish.

Engitech R-01010010 "Gun Drone" -

S'venia has "acquired" these drones through her travels of the outskirts of the district. Oftentimes these were broken and discarded by the corporations after a battle was waged. What is broken can be fixed, if you know the right gal. They feature a more powerful repulsorlift that has a quick spin up and higher operating speed. They come equipped with a 5.56x45mm rapid-firing gun with an ammo capacity of fifty rounds. They are designed to be a part of a swarm that is used to overwhelm positions. Usually controlled by a Engitech technician that manages the flock as a whole, S'venia was able to get the 2 she has slaved to work with her software. She can use her hand and voice commands to make them move, but they are not as accurate when commanded this way. She mainly uses them as a deterrent and would instead not test their full combat capabilities.

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

Social butterfly - S'venia, though her life and experience, found it easy to relate to everyone. Whether it's the war-torn gangster, to the corporate scum, S'venia has enough experience to talk from someplace of expertise and to develop personal connections with most. This is something that has allowed her to foster a strong base of friends who all can be relied upon for various purposes.

Strong Voice - S'venia always has some power behind her words, whether written or spoken.

Conviction - S'venia is rooted in her beliefs, and very little can sway her from them. If she accepts a task, she will see it through for better or worse.

Journalistic intuition - S'venia knows where a story is and when there is nothing more than noise. She can filter through her various contacts and find a way to connect the dots through a complex series of events. This intuition is also used in everyday instances as well.

Tech Savant - While not a creator, S'venia can use her tech to significant effect. She uses her camera drones to act as her eyes and can edit in real-time on her devices. She has also adapted her camera drone controls to be used as an interface for the gun drones as well. She is also very handy at picking up new tech and figuring out how they work.

Street knowledge - While not terribly smart in the traditionally thought of street knowledge, her memory and traveling of the less beaten path have allowed her to remember how to navigate the streets of the district without having to use other tools. She knows many routes to the same place, some faster than others, while others are easy to lose someone in the crowds.

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

Conviction - S'venia is rooted in her beliefs, and very little can sway her from them. If she accepts a task, she will see it through for better or worse.

Reliant on tech - S'venia, while not augmented, is consumed by having the most up to date tech. From her drones to her software, a lot of what makes S'venia work as a journalist and overall is based in tech. As such, she has a relatively stable footprint in the Virtual.

Nosey - Something there is just something about what someone else is doing. From the way they carry themself to the way they are dressed. S'venia is often observing the world around her and the people within. This is not just to find her next jacket, it is a crucial part to stumble upon stories that her contacts could not. She has found unfavorable characters doing things in the shadows. While she never publishes what she sees, she still has some ammo to spare when it comes to spreading the Truth

Grandiose - S'venia lives life like she is the most important person in it. She has her vision. If someone is expendable along the way to achieve it, S'venia feels the temptation to do what is needed to get through with her goals.

Lust for power - S'venia alone does not know how far she will take her vision, but she still wants the power that uniting the people can bring. She wants nothing more to see her vision to fruition. Part of this was drilled into her following the losses she's faced. The feeling of not being able to do anything made her yearn for the power to do.

Need for control - From managing collaborations with her coworkers to her stores as The Truth, the need for control is an ever-present desire.

NOTES:

General Information

NAME: Amelia Batalia

ALIASES // TITLES: Glory. Chosen as part of an alias initiative to help protect the identity of security operators at Knight Enterprise.

SEX: Female

AGE: Twenty five.

APPEARANCE:

Amelia stands at a grand six feet and two inches tall, which is far above the normal average for females. This is one of the most obvious indicators that Amelia hit the genetic lottery. Amelia’s skin is a fair cream color, and is blemish free thanks to an intense self-care routine. Amelia’s short, bob cut hair is light brown and frequently a bit messy. Amelia’s eyes are green, and she was blessed with unerring 20/20 vision. However, her eyes typically appear pink due to the special contacts she wears on a regular basis.

Amelia’s overall body shape is toned and athletic, which is both mandated and maintained by her chosen career. Amelia’s bust is fairly generous, another example of how she hit the genetic lottery. For clothing, what Amelia wears depends on what she’s doing at the time, but the outfit she typically defaults to is a white shirt with a dark blue jacket with a yellow interior and yellow faux-fur collar lining. This dark blue jacket also has a layer of kevlar sewn into to provide Amelia with some additional protection. On the right shoulder of this jacket is a Knight Enterprise patch.

Amelia also keeps a pair of aviator style sunglasses propped up on her forehead, though she does have a case for them if needed. Amelia also has a pair of heavy-duty shooting gloves that she wears. The right glove is missing it’s index finger cover by design, and allows for the shooter to maintain all flexibility in their trigger finger so as to ensure maximum control and accuracy.

Amelia also wears a pair of denim hotpants with a brown leather belt. Hooked into this belt is a brown leather holster and tactical pouch combo. This holster is also bound to her right thigh by two additional straps and is supported by double band webbing wrapping around her waist. Amelia wears one stocking on her left leg, as when she tried wearing one on both legs it caused too many issues with the holster. Finally, Amelia wears a pair of heavy-duty work boots that have both steel-toe inserts and reinforced soles to give Amelia a firm grip on nearly any surface, even ones that are typically too slick for good contact.

OCCUPATION: Amelia’s current occupation is employment at a small security firm known as Knight Enterprise. They’re barely big enough to be on the map, but their overall lack of corruption and cheaper pricing means that they manage to score big contracts from time to time. Currently, Amelia is contracted out as general campaign security, meaning that she’s travelling to basically anywhere a speech or rally is being held to provide on-site security.

Psychological Profile

PERSONAL GOAL: Amelia doesn’t really have a personal investment in the current election, but she is contracted out to provide security for the duration of it, so she is obligated to remain around and protect all speaking candidates, regardless of platform.

Outside of the campaign, Amelia has a desire to bust some of the members of the old gangs she fell in with. Most of the people there, at least as far as Amelia remembers, were just lost kids that couldn't get a job. However, high up on the ladder were some genuinely bad people, and Amelia wants to do her best to see them behind bars.

CAMPAIGN GOAL: Amelia wants to see the world improved and personally views The Central Party as the best party to do that, but doesn't support Joshua Gatch due to the fact that unemployment rose while he was mayor. Unfortunately, nobody else has garnered the support of the central party and Amelia has been left politically hamstrung because of it. Interestingly, despite her overall favoring of the central party's ideals, Amelia privately favors Chen Dao due to his outreach towards less-advantaged people with his augmentation monasteries.

However, Amelia is still publicly neutral and doesn't openly advocate for any one candidate as part of her security contract.

PERSONAL PHILOSOPHY: Amelia is a moral and upstanding person that generally doesn’t deal under the table. Unlike some of the stories that come out of The Enforcers, Amelia doesn’t take bribes and doesn’t like to deviate from standing orders unless it’s proven to be absolutely necessary. She also doesn’t like to gossip while on the job, and remembers that company secrets are, in fact, company secrets and not something to disclose on a regular basis.

POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY: Amelia’s political life is rather uninteresting, but she does generally support The Central Party since she views it as the least problematic of all the parties. She knows that it’s not perfect, but she likes the fact that it doesn’t seem to have an agenda that actively forces people to change their lifestyle. She doesn’t exactly approve of The Central Parties dealings with some of the more extreme megacorporations, but tells herself that hopefully, in the end, the government will “wash its hands” when the time comes.

SECRETS: When Amelia was a teen, she used to fall in with street gangs and various muscle groups because she grew up in a poorer area and it was difficult to find sustainable work. She didn’t quite do anything illegal herself, but the mere involvement with some of them would be grounds for a thorough interrogation, especially since Amelia now works in private security.

FEARS: Amelia’s greatest fear is losing her job in security, since it’s been one of the most stable jobs that she’s ever had and she had to work incredibly hard to earn the position. Aside from that, she does have the general fear that she’ll be caught up in a firefight and have her life ended by a single lucky shot, though she tries to remind herself that this is the risk she accepted when she chose to work in the field of security.

REPUTATION: How the world views Amelia is generally dependent on their own moral standing. People who like to operate lawfully generally consider Amelia to be a likable person that is an easy hire for most situations. Those who like to get their hands dirty typically try to avoid hiring Amelia, as her upstanding nature will typically cause them a headache since she’ll typically be at odds with their disregard for protocol.

LIKES:



DISLIKES:



QUIRKS:

Background Information

Amelia’s background is fairly standard for someone growing up below the poverty line in the modern era. Her parents were poor, and thus she was also poor. Luckily for Amelia, she did have the advantage of winning the genetic lottery. Her physical capabilities, being above average, allowed her to excel in rapidly growing job fields like security. Since she didn’t have the money for a gym membership, Amelia honed her body by running and jumping around the slums of the reclaim zone that she grew up in, effectively teaching herself parkour as she went.

However, Amelia didn’t get into a security firm right away. They simply weren’t looking for new hires in her area, and so Amelia fell in with some local gangs and muscle groups. Amelia was kept rather low tier in the gangs, partially because she wasn't very good at actually delivering threats to people, and partially because the people in power wanted to keep as many people as downtrodden as possible in order to stay in power. However, Amelia's life with the gangs was shattered when she was told to intimidate a shopkeeper for protection money on her own. She was given a screwdriver and told to put it through their kneecap should they not have the money. Amelia bounced along happily, as this was just normal business to her and people usually coughed the money up pretty quickly. She was also eager to "prove herself" after having been near the bottom of the ladder for months.

When Amelia arrived at the shop, she picked the lock on the back door and snuck inside. There she found the owner, and her worldview shattered. The owner was old and withered, confined to a wheelchair with his legs mangled beyond repair. He glared at Amelia angrily before beginning to shout at her. "Oh, here to 'collect' again, are you?! Huh, punk?!" He began to wheel himself towards Amelia aggressively, and Amelia turned and ran, dropping the screwdriver as she went.

Confronted with the harsh reality of her gang work, Amelia's view shattered. She never went back to the "hub house" to report what had happened. She instead ducked into a random bar to hide. The gangs never really bothered with the bars, mainly because they were one of the few places in the slums that made enough money to afford security. Luckily for Amelia, there was a recruiting officer there that night. With nowhere else to go, Amelia begged for a job. Thankfully, he said yes.

Amelia's former comrades in crime never heard from her in person again, but a few news reports featuring her have riled them up. They're furious that she's "gone legit" and abandoned their operation. However, thanks to the alias initiative that Knight Enterprise put in place, they know little about her current whereabouts, and even then only a few remember her. However, those few have become powerful people within the gangs and might become a thorn in Amelia's side should they learn where she's working.

Amelia has been working for Knight Enterprise since she was twenty three, and was only recently assigned to the campaign trail after a college of hers developed a really nasty case of shingles and had to be submitted to a local hospital for treatment. Knight Enterprise was never one to leave a contract short staffed, and so Amelia was dispatched to fill in the gap.

Operative Information

AUGMENTATIONS: None currently.

EQUIPMENT:



SKILLS:

Marksmanship: Amelia is a good shot with her pistol, and can even manage good long-range shots due to the great power retention over distance that the powerful .50 AE rounds provide.

Close Combat Training: Given that Amelia’s primary weapon is a pistol, she’s also opted to train herself in hand to hand combat for defense in the event that someone manages to rush her at a bad moment. In specific, she’s been trained in a mix of boxing and wrestling.

Attention to detail: Amelia’s security training involved picking out minute differences between setups and paying careful attention to security cameras, and as such she’s capable of spotting small differences that would indicate something has been tampered with, and she’s good at watching a dozen security screens at once for suspicious activity.

Athletics: Amelia doesn’t skimp on her personal fitness, and has gotten some more official training on parkour ever since she joined Knight Enterprise. Amelia’s stamina allows her to run for approximately forty minutes without stopping.

FLAWS:

“Protocol dictates…”: Amelia is extremely strict about protocol. This is a bit of a double edged sword in that while it makes her look good to her superiors, it means that it also takes her a long time to accomplish some things that could be accomplished much quicker by some others. As an example: sending all evidence off for testing and letting the “thinkers” at Knight Enterprise get it correct instead of risking getting something wrong. Meanwhile, the person responsible has already managed to get out of the scene and is well on their way to a safehouse.

Structurally dependant: Amelia is highly dependant on having a good chain of command, clear orders, and consistent communication with the other members of the security detail. Should she be forced to improvise without any kind of commanding officer, her ability to effectively respond to a situation will be extensively hindered.

Rigidity: Amelia has been given extensive scenario training, and unfortunately it’s been effective at drilling specific situations into her without room for adaptation. Amelia will frequently be quick to come up with a plan, but her plans are almost always the same and simple pattern recognition will allow people to interpret what she’ll do next with ease.

Overzealousness: Amelia is frequently keen to see something through to completion, even if it’s something small that really doesn’t need to be figured out. Thus, her time is easily consumed by menial work, like filling out situation reports. When Amelia dedicates herself to a task she works until it’s done, frequently at the expense of getting anything else done.

NOTES:

Amelia’s personal vehicle is an Engitech Mirage motorcycle.

Knight Enterprise is a medium-level security agency that has the resources to branch out an open another office in another megaregion. However, due to a lack of locations to expand to without serious competition in a rapidly saturating market, Knight Enterprise has decided to keep it's strength collected in the reclaim zone.

The gangs and muscle groups the Amelia used to be a part of have, in the years that she's been away from them, fused into a collective known as the "Reavers of the Lost and the Damned." On the surface, they frequently tout that they provide opportunities for people who aren't taken in by places like Knight Enterprise and other growing job markets, but within the group there exists a "high table" of extremely influential people that use The Reavers as their personal army. Unfortunately, a few of the people who still hold a grudge against Amelia for leaving them and joining Knight Enterprise have seats at the high table. Latest reports put the number of associates at about one-hundred.