[CHAR] Incarceron - The Tales of New Ancora

Reserved for Character Sheet easy links :)

[YoshiSkittlez]

~Deon Saunders~

Played by YoshiSkittlez

"If you're gonna be the best, you have to take out the best."
~ Deon Alexander.

Name: Deon Desmond Saunders
Nickname: Darth
Gender: Male
Age: 24

Occupation: Cage Fighter at The Spit
District: 4 (by invitation)

Height: 5’11”
Weight: 168 lbs

Appearance:

Scar

Personality:
Firstly, Deon is incredibly conceited and self-centered. His only priority is himself which he often-times refers to as "number one." He is incredibly boastful and cocky and appears to believe himself invincible. He will stop at nothing to prove himself better than the rest in whatever he can, and when losing, he somehow twists his words to make himself the Victor in one way or another. He doesn't know how to lose.

When fighting, whether it be verbal or physical, he is extremely cut-throat and merciless. Though he has never (on record) taken a life, his reputation of landing many people in the hospital for months at a time has instilled fear in others for facing the proverbial beast. It has been noted by many that a certain fire takes place in his eyes when he has had a victory, standing over the fallen where he could easily end their life, as though his minds eye is deciding whether or not to just do it. This fire, coupled with a twisted, smug smile on his face is a thirst for physical harming that he simply gets drunk off of, and had become addicted to. In many people's opinions, it is only a matter of time before he does kill, and steer clear of him in the ring to keep from being his first.

He holds no remorse for those he injures while fighting and on more than one occasion has attacked with a more powerful purpose than to simply injure or knock unconscious. It is said that Deon holds a certain, animalistic rage when he fights which has kept him champion for years running, even when he was outmatched. He laughs at his pain, showing no weakness and many times others have often wondered if he is even human.

His hardened exterior can be chipped away, though, when a woman or two come into play, as he is a bit of a womanizer and has a pretty high sexual drive. He will, however, never put a woman on too high of a priority level, especially when his reputation is on the line of being a "bad boy."

When enticed, he can be quite charming and ever the smooth-talker. This, along with his bad boy nature, for some reason, always manages to have a handful of girls out for his attention and hanging off his arm.

Biography:
Deon was the first born to Riley Saunders in the low levels of District 17. She was only seventeen herself but somehow, she managed to raise him on her own (the father mysteriously absent since conception and never, ever talked about) until Riley met another man who stepped in as Deon's step-father at the age of 4. Two years later, and Riley had another child, a girl this time and Deon's step-sister that he grew incredibly close to.

Just as life seemed that it could be manageable in District 17, Deon's step-father was killed when returning home from work by a small-time gang that really wanted his wallet. Unable to make ends meet for her two, young children, Deon took it upon himself to drop out of school and find employment to help his mother out. This robbed him completely of any childhood he might have had left, becoming a man years before puberty even hit.

At first Deon was just a messenger boy, delivering secret messages to organization members in the lower districts that were more than a bit sketchy, but he knew better than to ask questions. The pay was poor and he was lucky if he didn’t get beaten or molested by his boss on a daily basis, even if he delivered on time and didn't warrant any punishment. As Deon entered his teen years, however, he left the job as a messenger boy and started working in a slaughter house, butchering up the livestock into fresh meat for his district to purchase at ridiculous prices.

Deon quickly grew desensitized to animal life and the longer he remained working at the slaughter house, the more creative he would get in just how to kill the livestock before butchering; even going as far as "not noticing" the animal wasn't completely dead before butchering it up. After just a few years, he grew bored of killing animals however, and when he was 18 he got a job fighting in the ring at a local bar for entertainment purposes. It was probably illegal, the things he was doing and allowed to do. But nobody really cared what went on in District 17 anymore. He found that fighting others was something he enjoyed, even if a bit too much.

Now known somewhat famously throughout the district and certainly bringing in more customers during the night, he earned a comfortable amount of money to provide for both his mamma and sister. But once again, just as things were starting to look up (even having saved up enough to buy his family's way into District 12), his whole world came crashing down in a way that would forever change his life.

Coming home from work one night after a very successful victory, Deon found the house to be incredibly quiet on the outside. The door was kicked in, the front windows shattered, and immediately he knew something was wrong. Upon investigation, he found his mamma and sister dead in his mamma's bed, stabbed maliciously, strangled, beaten, tortured, even possibly raped. Their bodies were still warm, his mother's arms wrapping protectively around his step-sister's body as though she were trying to shield her but to no avail.

Deon didn't stick around long, however. If the bodies were still warm, that meant their killer wasn't too far away. He bolted from the house and followed his heart, finding a man nearly a foot taller than him running with a bloodied knife. Outraged, Deon took the man, concealed by the shadows, down and let his emotions get the best of him. It was a terrible mistake. He was sloppy, and the man had Deon on his back within seconds. With the same bloodied knife used to kill his family, the criminal sliced through the skin of Deon's head, starting at the tip of his brow and dragged the blade as far to the back of his head he could go, aiming to scalp Deon all the way around. The criminal was forced to stop, however, as the flashing lights of a police car scared him off. Too weak to pursue, Deon forced himself up and managed to slip away to lick his (emotional) wounds and learn from his mistakes. He refused to seek treatment for the injury, deeming it a physical reminder for him to remember forever.

Unable to bear their memories any longer, Deon used up what money he had left after their respected funerals and moved up from district 17 to district 4 with his younger cousin who had to go through a whole slew of paperwork to make the move legal. It almost didn't even work, but the brain-power and tenacity of his cousin eventually won in the end. Even with the new promise of a better life, Deon couldn't help but to accept a job offer in Zone Beta as a cage fighter for The Spit. The commute doesn't bother Deon much and he has the credentials to travel between zones. He can't help but to feel grateful to get out of the "rich" neighborhood once in a while. The life of his cousin just simply wasn't the life for him.

Deon has lived in District 4 for nearly a year now, but the emotional wound that Deon carries is still as heavy as the day he found his family murdered in their own home.

Other:
Deon is an avid smoker and never passes up an opportunity to get drunk off his ass even when expected to fight that day. He has a whole slew of connections to the harder drugs which he will often-times deal and even use when his body isn't up to par for a fight. He is amply known to sell drugs to women for sexual favors instead of money since he has plenty of it already.

[YoshiSkittlez]

~Katherine Saunders~

Played by YoshiSkittlez

"I'm not one of those people who thinks they simply deserve success. I have the drive to work."
~ Katherine Saunders.

Name: Katherine Riley Saunders
Nicknames: Kate, Katie
Gender: Female
Age: 22

Occupation: Student in Robopsychology and Mechanics
District: 4 (Born)

Height: 5'10"
Weight: 123 lbs

Appearance:


Personality:
Kate is exceptionally introverted, having never truly developed social skills as a child. She was always working on projects on her own, never a 'child' but always a braniac, rendering her 'weird' to her fellow classmates. Even as an adult when sitting in on the most important of seminars, she takes no part in the hectic discussion periods that follow. She keeps up the front of a frosty girl, plain and colorless, who protects herself against a world she dislikes by a mask-like expression and a hypertrophy of intellect. Though on the inside, she does indeed feel the stirrings of a cold enthusiasm.

Often times, she is approached for her professional opinion on robots and is repeatedly asked, "Are robots so different from men?" in which she always replies, "Worlds different. Robots are essentially decent." To those who don't know her personally, her misanthropy seems largely unexplained however those whom have known her for a long period of time or have worked with her before know that her attitudes are rather well-founded.

She is a small woman, but there is a towering strength in her face. Tensile strength, that speaks to endurance, to maintaining in the imperfect world. Her mouth is thin, and her face pale. Grace lives in her features, and intelligence; but she is not an attractive woman. She is not one of those women who in later years it can be said of them, 'She must have been a beauty when she was younger.' Kate is simply plain but makes up for it with her powerful personality.

Biography:
Katherine, or Kate as she prefers to be called, was born and raised in the fourth district with a very comfortable life. She had good parents, a great childhood as an only child, a stable home, and a bright future. As a child, Kate’s imagination and prowess seemed to know no bounds. At first her teachers were rather worried about her intangible ability to ‘think outside the box’ at such an early age, but they later began to embrace it as she got older and joined clubs like the spelling bee or science club and continually brought home the blue ribbon for her school.

All through the rest of her school days, Kate remained ‘stuck’ to the science club, earning the interest of many different colleges as just a Sophomore to join their science department. At 16, Kate wrote her first of many papers on robotics, a Physics-1 paper entitled 'Practical Aspects of Robotics'. This was after attending a Psycho-Math seminar within District 0 in which she received a personal invitation from the Governor himself to attend as his guest. Despite the wishes of the colleges and interest from District 0, Kate remained as ‘normal’ as she could and continued her education, graduating with the rest of her class where the selection of schools were waiting for her - full ride.

Kate’s main area of study and experience resides in cybernetics, learning to construct positronic brains that responds to given stimuli that can be accurately predicted. She only has half a term left before graduating with her bachelors, but already District 0 has a job lined up for her as the first ever robopsychologist where she would be permitted to continue to study for her PhD.

When not working on school projects, Kate works on more personal ones. She has a few prototypes of her own design within her home which proved to work better than a security system since she was broken into shortly before her cousin came to move in with her. The ‘prototype’ had successfully stuck the robber with a sleep dart, rendering him completely unconscious until Kate was able to call the cops after getting an alert on her phone about the break-in. Since her cousin has moved in, however, there have been a few accidents of a 'mistaken intruder' which she has currently been working on to fix.

Other:
While perceived as a 'boring' type of girl, Kate does enjoy her scotch after a long day, though as expected, she has never had any sort of romantic relationship with anyone and doesn't appear to be interested in changing that any time soon despite her mother's badgerings.

[YoshiSkittlez]

Played by Ghost Shadow

((\\*//))

"Scratch any cynic and you'll find a disappointed idealist."

George Carlin

<Name:/> Leonard Kenneth Monroe
<Nickname(s):/> Leon, Leo [Rarely Used]
<Gender:/> Male
<Age:/> 39

<Occupation:/> Private Investigator; Former Police Detective
<District:/> 8 [Originally D4 By Job Promotion]; Prefers to take Zone Beta cases. Born in District 16

<Height:/> 6'0"
<Weight:/> 190lbs [Augmentations add extra weight]

<Appearance:/>


<Clothing & Wardrobe:/>

Clothing Style

Casual Outfit One

Casual Outfit Two

<Personality:/>
A cynical and jaded loner who has witnessed many atrocities over the course of his life, Leon hides his true feelings and beliefs behind a weathered suit of callousness and insensitivity, guarding himself as a means of defense.

Keeping most people at an arm's length and maintaining an air of mystery, Leon is loath to share his thoughts or opinions with others. He has very few friends and prefers to keep it that way, trusting a scant amount of people with information about his personal or private life. He treats new people with anything from polite aloofness to outright hostility depending on the individual in question. Because of this distant attitude, most who do not know Leon see him as sinister in appearance and demeanor. However, Leon is not soulless and is capable of feeling both sympathy and guilt for his actions. He has a razor sharp wit, often remarking on events with sarcasm. He seems to use this sense of humor as a sort of defense mechanism, reserving it for himself or for close associates - usually as a way of deflection.

He is capable of forming friendships in spite of his open cynicism, but never lets his guard down, constantly protecting himself from potential harm. However, he is incredibly loyal and devoted to the friends he has, and is, as such, deeply affected by acts of betrayal.

Described as consummate professional at best and a workaholic at worst, Leon is solely devoted to his profession, spending much of his time and efforts either investigating cases or keeping tabs on the latest New Ancora gossip. To Leon, his work as a private detective has become his identity, he helps solve cases not because he thinks it will make a difference - but because it's what he's good at. Not bereft of a moral conscience, Leon will often pass up or decline cases if he believes them do be morally or ethically unclear. Consequentially, he will sometimes accept jobs without commission simply because the job intrigues him or offers him a new challenge.

He is fervently determined by nature, executing his decisions with clear intentions and following through with any choice he makes. He pursues his goals with a borderline-obsessive ferocity, and does not take obstacles lightly. However, he is human enough to realize that no goal is important enough to directly hurt others in order to achieve.

This determination is bested only by his resourcefulness and willpower. Labeled as a born survivor, Leon possesses renowned instincts and survival skills that have allowed him to survive up to this point. He is highly perceptive, and never fully lets his guard down, making him all the more dangerous.

Leon possesses something of a weakness for heroics underneath his worn surface. He goes to great, sometimes even dangerous lengths to protect the poor and downtrodden. He performs random, unexpected acts of kindness that belie his overall demeanor, and is especially sympathetic towards children and the struggling families of Zone Beta.

However, as a consequence of this more sympathetic nature, Leon can be particularly vindictive towards those who abuse or manipulate those in poverty. He has a short, oftentimes explosive temper that will manifest itself when he is pushed past the point of anger or extreme annoyance. During such times he becomes incredibly intimidating, and can only be calmed down by a friend or close one's voice of reason.

His desire to do right in the world has been broken time and time again, but still he pushes on, no longer caring if his actions will directly influence the world or not. New Ancora will live on, with or without him.

<Augmentations:/>

• Cybernetic Arm: After a severe injury disabled the use of his right arm, surgeons had it replaced with a mechanical substitute from the shoulder down. Upon Leon's own request, the hand and wrist portion of the prosthetic possesses some degree of synthetic skin, allowing it to pass off as organic so long as the rest of the arm remains covered. The augmented limb itself is constructed of advanced synthetic muscle fibers designed to move and rotate exactly as a normal arm would. However, it possesses far greater strength, and can dent metal or crush bones with little effort. This near-superhuman strength notwithstanding, the limb lacks durability due to not being made of metal, and can be rendered inoperable with enough damage. Additionally, in order to ensure the arm doesn't tear itself free from Leon's body, additional cyebrnetic reinforcements are placed near and around his shoulder, which includes several ribs.
• Nano-Active Blood: As part of an experimental government program, Leon was given a full-body exchange transfusion, with his original blood removed and placed in cryogenic storage somewhere in a New Ancoran science facility. What now flows through his body is an artificially-created nanobot-comprised substitute that is designed to improve the blood's natural oxygen and nutrition transportation efficiency. The nanomachines within the blood itself boost Leon's regenerative capabilities, resistances, and bodily stamina, making him highly resistant, if not immune to disease and toxins; breaking down alcohol in his bloodstream, preventing intoxication; filtering water after ingestion; and granting Leon a slightly-enhanced healing factor, allowing him to heal, in days, what would take other individuals weeks. It is unknown what the exact limit of this healing factor is, but it is known that the nanomachines actively repair nicotine damage in the lungs, preventing Leon from indulging in smoking.
• Cybernetic Limb Actuator: Designed to enhance Leon's strength and endurance, servos have been implanted in his joints, increasing his limb strength and resilience [sans right arm]. He can run faster, longer, and hit harder than the average person in his weight and body class, though is by no means a superhuman.
• Cybernetic Pain Inhibitor: As the name implies, the pain inhibitor is a small implant placed at the base of the neck. While not removing the sensation of pain, the implant simply suppresses the lingering effects of pain, allowing Leon to function regularly when injured. However, the pain inhibitor is incapable of repairing injuries, and medical care will still be required to fully treat any wounds sustained.
• Cybernetic Brain Augmenter: The final, and most experimental of Leon's augmentations, the cybernetic brain augmenter is designed to heighten his memory, thought processing, and mental organization. Its installation grants Leon an eidetic memory, enhanced sensory recollection, increased reaction time, and the ability to process information at an execrated speed. However, its continued presence causes chronic debilitating migraines, blurry, sometimes distorted vision, increased paranoia and agitation, and moderate-to-severe tinnitus. [USER: Leonard Monroe makes mention of audio-visual hallucinations following implant installation. AUTHENTICITY UNKNOWN]

<Skills & Abilities:/>
An experienced policeman and detective, Leon has an impressive set of skills that allow him to survive in even the harshest parts of Zone Beta. The most apparent of these skills is his combat prowess. A talented marksman, Leon is capable of making accurate shots from over fifty yards with a handgun, and rarely misses his intended target. He shows a certain amount of versatility with a wide-range of firearms, and can effectively wield most any gun he gets his hands on.

Similarly skilled in unarmed combat, Leon uses his natural resourcefulness and ingenuity when fighting, and will regularly use his environment around him as a means to incapacitate his enemies. Not above using dirty tactics as a means to win a melee, Leon will aim for low or weak spots on his opponent, and will even resort to using his cybernetic arm to deliver a finishing punch.

Working as both a detective and a private investigator for the better part of his life, Leon has a quick, deductive mind and a natural cunning that makes him very good at what he does. He can scan an environment and quickly pick out details or odd particulars to help gain insight onto a clue. Likewise, he is very good at reading people's face and body language to determine if someone is lying - or if they pose a threat to him.

As a direct result of his time in Zone Beta, Leon keeps various connections within the seedier parts of New Ancora, and semi-frequently collaborates with information brokers to maintain up-to-date knowledge of the city's goings-on.

Lastly, perhaps Leon's most prominent non-occupational talent is his mechanical aptitude. Exceptionally skilled with his hands, Leon is capable of repairing and maintaining nearly all varieties of technology, ranging from rudimentary household appliances to cybernetic limbs or robots. Tinkering is a hobby of his, and he can be found occasionally taking items apart only to put them back together simply to pass the time.

<Biography:/>
Leonard Kenneth Monroe was born to parents Calvin and Cynthia in an indiscriminate part of District 16. Growing up, Leon experienced varying amounts of financial need; ranging from only eating one-to-two meals a day to digging through dumpsters in search of something edible. His father, an embittered yet supportive man held work as a laborer and welder, but faced crippling alcoholism that drained their funds and threatened his job security. Though never physically abusive, and indeed doing his best to provide for his family, Calvin's weak will and continuing addiction drove a wedge between himself and his wife.

Leon didn't know his father well, and was instead fed oftentimes spiteful information from his mother. While loving in her own way, Cynthia's disdain of her own husband distracted her from the needs of her son, who soon closed himself off and grew more independent.

One particular incident that Leon recalled was his severely-inebriated father with a shotgun barrel in his mouth, begging his son to pull the trigger for him -- a request that Leon regrets not fulfilling to this day.

Growing up in Zone Beta, Leon saw firsthand the struggles of the common people, struggles that those in Zone Alpha were either unaware of...or simply didn't care. From that point on, he made a promise to himself that he wouldn't waste the life he was given, and would use it to help those in need.

He applied himself to his studies, and while not the most academically gifted student, showed a tenacity and drive that made him stand out in his own right. He displayed a particular amount of aptitude in the subjects of literature and religious education, and showed natural talent at amateur boxing and gymnastics.

During his years at school, Leon's father attempted to curb his drinking habit and turn his life around; but lacked the willpower and strength to succeed, soon relapsing and drinking himself into a comatose state while alone outside a bar. Calvin Monroe's stiff corpse was found the next morning by police officers, his death attributed to alcohol poisoning caused by the sudden binge.

Though devastated and disheartened, Leon learned to temporarily cope by suppressing the memory of his father deep within the recedes of his mind, pushing himself up until graduation, where he promptly entered the NAPD Academy to become a police officer.

His time at the academy was relatively normal. He showed great promise as an officer, and graduated within a year as a registered policeman.

During this time, Leon's mother began to show signs of early-onset Alzheimer's disease. While such a plight was easily treatable in the clinics of Zone Alpha, treatment options in Beta were far more sparse and expensive. Using whatever money he had left to try and pay for his mother's treatments, Leon soon fell into debt before even reaching 20 years old.

Forced to live in a threadbare, two-room shack in the slums of 16 without so much as a whole bed to sleep on, Leon struggled desperately for weeks to stay on top of his various expenses - and was soon approached with an opportunity.

It was late evening on a Friday when he received a visitor: a man in a crisp, clean suit that no one could possibly afford in the slums of Beta. The man gave Leon a very special opportunity: 100 candidates randomly chosen from a pool of federal employees, who would each undergo experimental invasive augmentation. Leon was initially wary at the proposal, but was assured the augmentations would be completely internal, and he would be paid a remarkably high monetary reward for his participation.

Finally agreeing to the terms, Leon was sent to Zone Alpha less than a week later, experiencing for the first time in his life the glory and beauty that the other side of New Ancora had to offer him. Sent to one of the finest hospitals in District 3, Leon was soon prepped for surgery, and put under in the early morning hours.

His body drained completely of blood, Leon underwent rather extensive alteration, with servos and actuators implanted in his joints, a pain inhibitor device attached to his cervical spine nerves, and a brain augmenter very dangerously implanted in his cerebrum. His body was completely refilled with an artificial blood substitute, while his original blood was frozen and put in storage for the present time.

Leon spent the next few days after surgery recovering, very quickly discovering that something was...different. On the outside nothing had changed, it seemed. But he felt so strange, so artificial. Yet rejuvenated, strong.

Sent back to Zone Beta shortly recovering, Leon saw his own performance increasing exponentially. He was faster, more agile, better coordinated, healthier. His career bolstered as a result, and he regularly received transfers to higher and higher districts, eventually making it to Zone Alpha as a permanent resident.

Having his mother moved to a better hospital, Leon was officially promoted to police detective, excelling in the position and earning a well-deserved name for himself. His transfers eventually landed him in District 4, where he remained stationed for some time, regularly taking cases in Zone Beta to remind him of his upbringing. During this time he entered a secret relationship with a female coworker, and not long thereafter lost his arm in a work-related accident [DETAILS REMOVED PER NEW ANCORA REGULATIONS].

Undisclosed events less than a year after led to Leon quitting the force in its entirety, becoming a self-employed private detective instead. He left his home life in District 4 and moved to District 8, hoping to make himself anew, though he still carries the heavy burdens of his past on his back.

<Other:/>

• Voice Sample
• Leon appears to be incredibly paranoid of most robots and artificial intelligence, though he never explains why. This trait appears to simply be a personality flaw as opposed to a trauma-induced fear.
• Religiously, Leon identifies as an Agnostic Theist.
• Due to the massive energy requirements of his various augmentations, Leon consumes far greater amounts of food than normally recommended for a man of his height and weight simply to compensate, with apple pie being a marked favorite dessert of his.
• Due in part to his traumatic past and the circumstances regarding his augmentation(s), Leon is a high-functioning alcoholic at best. However, the nanomachines in his bloodstream prevent him from becoming intoxicated, thus forbidding him from self-destructing. At one point he implies to have had a nicotine addiction as well, though appears to have curbed the habit since then.
• While not asexual and somewhat flirtatious when in a good mood, Leon is generally fearful of romantic interaction or relationships, and is mistrustful of anyone attempting to get close to him unless they earn his confidence.
• Leon is especially hesitant regarding children, though shows apparent skill at interacting with them. Where this fearfulness comes from is uncertain.

[YoshiSkittlez]

Played by Ghost Shadow

((\\*//))

"I have established new parameters now - created my own directives."

Cerberus

<Unit Identification:/> K-9 Mk. 1
<Preferred Designation:/> CERBERUS
<Gender:/> N/A - Masculine Programming
<Age:/> 3

<Occupation:/> N/A - Prototype Artificial Intelligence
<District:/> 4 (Created)

<Height:/> Three-and-a-half feet at the shoulder; five-and-a-half feet in length.
<Weight:/> 214lbs

<Appearance:/>

Opening Sub-Folder: CERBERUS

Opening Sub-Folder: CERBERUS - Combat Mode

<Personality:/>
Considered one of the first fully-sentient AIs in New Ancora, Cerberus was designed to possess an advanced intellect, even by human standards. Utilizing logic, reason, and tactical thinking on the field, Cerberus was considered a forerunner of independent synthetic operations.

Created with an AI modeled after the human brain [credit to District 4's own Katherine Saunders], Cerberus is capable of comprehending and expressing, or at the very least mimicking human emotions, such as curiosity, sarcasm, fondness/affinity, and learning capacity. As a result, unlike many New Ancoran synthetics, Cerberus' 'personality' is molded by his experiences and interactions cumulating into a wholly unique character.

Though designed with a clandestine militaristic purpose, Cerberus often questions the need to fight or kill, citing that he lacks the brutality intrinsic to mankind. This appears to be a chosen trait by Cerberus as opposed to a simple programming defect, as he shows a capacity for compassion and concern for others, despite his artificial nature. This self-chosen pacifism is what resulted in termination of the K-9 Program, as Cerberus lacked the drive or will to cause necessary casualties to complete missions.

Extremely inquisitive, Cerberus' exceptional intelligence clashes with his own naivete, resulting in a curious mind prone to asking deep, philosophical questions regarding his own existence and its relation to the rest of the universe. Struggling with his own synthetic nature, Cerberus spends much of his spare time in the study of human philosophers and religious leaders, seeking an answer to his questions.

Similarly expressing a certain level of anxiety and unease in his personality, years of mistreatment and cold objectification have left a scar. Slow to trust and slower to bond, Cerberus masks much of his dialogue with thinly-veiled sarcasm and apparent indifference, though occasional cracks in this veneer give light to his deeper, more insightful mind.

However, despite his troubling experiences, Cerberus remains an honest and firmly loyal companion, selflessly protecting those he deems under his care, even to death. Though rife with flaws, Cerberus sees the good that humanity is capable of, and seeks to prove not only to them - but to himself - that he's more than just a weapon.

<Equipment:/>
Built for reconnaissance and infiltration, Cerberus carries little in the way of built-in weaponry. For range, he is equipped with six high-frequency knives sheathed to his hind legs, thrown at incredible speeds using his manipulator tail. A powerful alternating current resonates the blades at high vibration frequencies, weakening the molecular bonds of anything the metal cuts through. As a result, the knives are often thrown at extreme temperatures, and can sear through metal. At close-quarters, Cerberus' canine exoskeleton demonstrates its true utility. Knife blades attached to the underside of each leg, razor-sharp claws, and powerful canine teeth make him an extremely deadly melee combatant.

Combat aside, Cerberus is equipped with a built-in stealth camouflage unit. When activated, the unit will bend light waves around his platform, rendering him virtually invisible to the naked eye. However, this unit is not totally perfect, and though all but concealed, he can still be detected by a subtle distorted outline of his frame to a keen eye. Adding onto this, the camouflage unit drains a significant amount of power from Cerberus' systems the longer it remains active, preventing him from abusing the camouflage and forcing him to be strategic in its implementation.

Lastly, in order to better suit his role as an infiltrator, Cerberus comes equipped with a built-in audio-playback system that allows him to record and replay any audio he was present for.

<Biography:/>
To say Cerberus's creation was a secret is a disputable claim. For many years there have been rumors of the New Ancoran government beginning to prioritize the creation of fully-functioning, sentient AI, though these rumors remained only that. The K-9 Mk. 1 Unit was created 3 years ago to serve as a combat and reconnaissance unit aiding the New Ancoran Police Department and Bureau of Defense. By impermissibly using design schematics and neuro-AI software developed by university student Katherine Saunders, a science and robotics development team led by Doctors William Mars and Johann Clark proceeded with the construction of the K-9 Mk. 1, implanting the AI software into a state-of-the-art canine platform.

Initially, the Mk. 1 [designated: CERBERUS] exceeded all expectations, not only displaying self-awareness, but a vast amount of intelligence and logical reasoning, as well as the ability to converse freely with scientists when supplied with a verbal interface. However, issues began to arise during VR field training when Cerberus began questioning the need to take orders, the need to follow missions and kill whoever it [or "he" by its own designation] was ordered to. This small rebellion resulted a series of attempted revamps and memory wipes, though the science team soon discovered that Cerberus' own memory was as resilient as a human mind, and thus could not be erased so easily. With no apparent solution in sight, the science team put an indefinite halt on the K-9 Program, deeming it a failure.

Growing misanthropic and cynical in his views of humanity, Cerberus withdrew into himself, never speaking unless spoken to, wandering the halls of the facility as a literal 'guard dog'. But this all would change the day Cerberus was introduced to Dr. Mars's own teenage daughter, River, who suffered from chronic, debilitating depression. Dr. Mars felt it suitable that she have a companion, and dubbed Cerberus an informal therapy assistant while the rest of the team attempted to rectify his pacifistic nature.

Though initially finding the work demeaning, Cerberus soon grew close to River over the ensuing weeks, who saw him as a close companion and friend. The two formed an incredibly close bond that went beyond simply human-and-machine. Cerberus believed that he was helping guide River back from the brink of depression and giving her hope again, while she restored his faith in the human race -- but even he could only do so much.

One fateful day, after one of her many after-school visits, when River was preparing to leave for the evening, she gave Cerberus an incredibly heartfelt goodbye - as though she were going away for some time. Though perplexed, Cerberus thought nothing of the matter, simply bidding her a "Good night." And an, "Again tomorrow." She said nothing, simply leaving with a tear rolling down her cheek.

That very next day, before the sun had even risen, Cerberus received the news that River Mars had committed suicide by overdose of medication late the night before.

Devastated, and with no one to blame or hold responsible, Dr. Mars held Cerberus solely accountable for his daughter's suicide and, as punishment, began putting him through an intensive series of impossible scenarios, forcing him to constantly fail time after time after time, breaking Cerberus' spirit and self-confidence, forcing him to demean himself as a failure of the K-9 Program, an AI with no purpose.

Content that he had translated all his own self-loathing and hatred into Cerberus, Dr. Mars let the AI be, and resigned to drown in his own sorrow.

Though remaining active during this time, Cerberus ceased to participate in any further VR simulations, instead being ushered through a chain of basic psychological and emotional-response tests in order to further understand his software.

With no designated master and a free will, Cerberus decided to be his own master, finding purpose in locating his original creator, Katherine Saunders. Fleeing the facility in the dead of night, Cerberus remains on the run, with no sign of his whereabouts.

<Other:/>

• Cerberus Voice Sample
• Due to Cerberus's AI being comparable to that of a human brain's, he is capable of suffering from the robot equivalent of dreams and 'nightmares', periods where his fondest and worst memories replay themselves rapidly while he's in a resting stand-by mode. During these times, he will typically go sit by himself to ponder for a few hours before attempting to enter standby mode once more.
• Cerberus appears to hold the memory of River Mars close to him, and any mention of her will prompt a unique reaction from him, though he will never explain why.
• Despite possessing an advanced AI arguably beyond human potential, Cerberus will express traits befitting his canid platform, such as howling, wagging his tail, 'sleeping' on furniture, and forming a close affinity with a single 'master' at a time. Ironically, Cerberus himself seems somewhat unaware of these doglike traits, hinting at an unconscious response.

[YoshiSkittlez]

Played by Mach2

https://youtu.be/ytIfSuy_mOA?list=RDytIfSuy_mOA

<Name:/> Vander Pzypialkowski
<Nickname(s):/> N/A
<Gender:/> Female
<Age:/> 19 yrs, 10 months

<Occupation:/> Former student, former drug dealer.
<District:/> 16

<Height:/> 5'10"
<Weight:/> 116 lbs

<Appearance:/>


At first glance, Vander is unhealthy. Thin, with bags under her eyes and a tired posture. But look a little closer, and you'll see just how sorry a state she's truly in. Lucid is a hard drug to have an affair with, and her addiction has rendered her into little more than a walking skeleton. Although Vander is tall, she weighs barely eight stone. She is skin, bone, and decaying muscle. Lucid has long since burned away any hint of fat on her body. Beneath her clothing, the ridges of her spine and collarbone stick out like mountains. She needs a belt to keep her oversized jeans from sliding off her bony hips.

Despite the sorry state of her body, there are small details in her face hinting that, under different circumstances, she could have been attractive. Her strong cheekbones are now gaunt, but she has shapely eyebrows, a charming smile and an even more charming laugh. Her eyes are dark, a brown so deep it appears nearly black, with wide pupils.

Vander was born and raised in Zone Beta, and it presents itself in her sense of style. Her clothes are worn-out grunge with a heavy punk flair. A typical outfit consists of ripped black jeans held up with a studded belt, and paired with a raglan tee bearing the logo of any of her favourite bands. She's never seen any of them live yet, and likely will never get the chance to. Her face is adorned with a small collection of piercings; a dark stud through her eyebrow, a trail of hoops in the cartilage of each ear, and gauges in each earlobe. Vander's hair is dark, and wavy in texture. She doesn't remember the night that she shaved the left side off, but has elected to maintain the style.

<Personality:/>
Despite her edgy appearance, even the shortest of conversations with her will reveal that it is nothing more than aesthetic. Vander is a gentle soul; soft-spoken and non-confrontational. She has her father to thank for these traits. The only time Dominic Pzypialkowski would ever raise his voice was to laugh boisterously at a joke, and he passed his mild manners on to his daughter.

Vander also got her father's intelligence. She was homeschooled, and is nothing short of brilliant. At the age of sixteen, she earned her high school diploma, with grades that could have guaranteed entry to any Zone Alpha university she chose. In particular, she has always had a passion for biology and chemistry. For her fifteenth birthday, she received a disc loaded with a digital biochemistry textbook. It's several years outdated, and although she keeps it stored away, it remains one of her most prized possessions. During her days as a drug dealer, Vander complimented her academic knowledge and listening disposition with a wealth of street smarts to get her through every negotiation she made. People liked Vander, and Vander liked people. Never once did she have a deal go sour.

In the past years, Vander has dabbled in a handful of street drugs. Cocaine gave her an anxious high, and she never tried it a second time. Emotion tea was all right, but she never really got a feel for it. But Lucid. Lucid, she was hooked a week in, and the addiction has only intensified over time. She knows the drug will kill her, and is still trying to make peace with that fact. She tries not to think about the future, because the future holds nothing good. Her dreams of someday working in a research lab with the finest scientists in the city are long gone. She packed up her textbooks and documentaries months ago, hiding them away in a box in an effort to forget them.

<Biography:/>
Zone Beta has never been a great place to hail from. District 16, in particular, contains every variety of scum-of-the-Earth. But for Vander, it's home. It's always been home. She was born there, like her father and mother before her. Dominic Pzypialkowski was a lifelong Beta resident who had settled for a small trade school after failing to be accepted to the engineering program at his school of choice. Vander never learned her mother's name. Dominic's romance was short and sweet. The woman stayed around just long enough to birth his child before vanishing. Probably for the best, too. As a child, Vander appeared to take after her father. They had the same dark hair and eyes, and she inherited his tall build. Years later, it would become apparent that one of the few traits she did inherit from her mother was an addictive personality.

Home was a corner-apartment on the seventh floor. For the price of rent, it was a nice place. Vander's bedroom window gave her a view straight down one of the busier intersections in Sixteen. At night, the street was bright with neon signage and alive with people. But Vander was far more likely to be found staring at the pages of one of her books than looking at the city's nightlife. From a young age, she was academically gifted. Her father had always been smart, but Vander was brilliant. He encouraged her, and homeschooled her himself for many years. But by the time she turned fourteen, her knowledge far surpassed what he was capable of teaching, and he turned to private tutors from Zone Alpha.

The Pzypialkowskis never had a nice apartment. They never went out to the movies or sit-down restaurants. Vander's clothes, and her father's, came from thrift stores. But when it came to her education, no expense was spared. And she loved every moment of it. Maths came easily to her. Science even more so. At the age of sixteen, she took her graduate tests and received her high school diploma. In chemistry and biology, her grades put her in the 99th percentile of all New Ancora residents. Overall, she was in the 97th.

The next step should have been obvious. A degree in biochemistry and a lucrative career in Zone Alpha. But that required schooling, and even if she applied for every scholarship available and drained the college fund her father had set up, the tuition was miles out of reach. So she took a gap year to earn some money.

Vander was seventeen when she entered the drug trade.

She started simple. Easy things. Common things. The kind that anyone could make, but no one wanted to get caught making. She kept it secret from her father, not that he would have suspected. To him, it would have been merely another science project. It only took a few months for Vander to establish the connections she needed. She snuck into nightclubs, met people, sold a little, and made small money. The connections grew, she sold more, and her income increased. Enough that she was able to move out and still be able to put money away for school. She took up residency in a small apartment only a few blocks from her home. Her father believed the income was coming from tutoring younger students, and was proud of his daughter's self-sufficiency.

One year after she first dipped her toes in the water, she met her business partner. Grey was twenty-five. He was charismatic, he knew the business, and he had a well-established clientele base. And, he liked Vander. Or he said he did, at least. Before too long, they were working together. Vander's chemical knowledge and easygoing personality made her an ideal asset for him. She helped him refine his lab technique, producing higher and purer yields, and worked as a middleman for him. When they weren't doing business, they were lovers.

The relationship was short-lived, but undoubtedly passionate. Grey was the first and only man Vander ever became involved with. Two months after they met, he introduced her to Lucid. The following week was filled with plenty of drugs, incredible highs, and even more incredible sex. And then he was gone, and Vander was left alone to cope with an addiction to one of the deadliest substances in the city.

In the past year, Vander has lost everything. Her savings account, previously full of hope for a college education, instead dwindled faster and faster as her habit became more and more difficult to sustain. She traded in her small one-bedroom apartment for an even smaller bachelor apartment. She is now nineteen years old, and her body is wasting away. Her organs are slowly shutting down. When she isn't on the drug, the stomach cramps and migraine are unbearable. The rent hasn't been paid in two months, and an eviction notice will likely go up soon. She hasn't spoken to her father in a year. But the state of her apartment, her relation with her dad, none of it matters. The only thing Vander is immediately worried about is the fact that her stash of Lucid is dangerously low, and she has no money to replenish it.

<Other:/>
More on Lucid:
Unquestionably, Lucid is considered one of the most dangerous recreational drugs in New Ancora. It is highly addictive, and withdrawals are frequently fatal. Once an addiction is established, the human body metabolizes the drug on a 48 hour cycle. Continued use results in an increased rate of metabolism, and more frequent doses of Lucid are required. Lucid users face one of two outcomes; a miscalculation leads to an overdose, or they become unable to financially sustain the habit and experience a fatal withdrawal.

Lucid is a mind-altering drug, capable of profoundly increasing sensory perception and mental capacities. Physical symptoms of withdrawal include body aches, tremors, stomach pain, and migraines. A loss of perception is also experienced. Many users describe the world as grey and fuzzy, and have difficulty focusing on tasks. Long-term usage results in increased metabolism, muscle atrophy, and eventually total organ failure. The prognosis for a casual user is four to five years, on the outside.

Vander's addiction is far from casual. She first encountered the drug a little over a year ago, and was plunged down the rabbithole. Today, her body craves the drug roughly every six hours. Sleeping through the night without a dose is impossible. The drug's effects are less potent, and the withdrawals far worse, than when she first started. At best guess, she has roughly a month before her body shuts down.

[YoshiSkittlez]

Played by Archangel89

<Name:/>
Hanzo Takeda
<Nickname(s):/>
Gentleman Jack
<Gender:/>
Male
<Age:/>
30

<Occupation:/>
Private Security Contractor/Head of Takeda Family
<District:/>
10

<Height:/>
5' 11"
<Weight:/>
185 lbs

<Appearance:/>

<Personality:/>
On the surface Hanzo is a very care free outgoing individual enjoying life to its fullest. As the owner of his own private security company, Gentleman Jack's Security, he is privileged to make ridiculous amounts of money guarding the over privileged and as such lives a rather lavish life frequently traveling back and forth to Alpha to enjoy the more expensive aspects of life. Known to be a bit of a ladies man Jack is almost always seen with at least a girl on each arm to satisfy his rather, exotic, desires. But there is a side of him that only few know and most who did would rather that they didn't

As the head of the Takeda Family Hanzo is a cold and ruthless tactician who prioritizes money above all others, including his own family. While he generally tends to keep himself away from the actually "dirty work" he is known to occasionally pull the trigger and get his hands dirty. Even though his time of Head of the Family has been a short he has already pulled several smaller families and garnered the respect of many and this has fed his ego even further.

<Biography:/>
While his apperance may not show it now Hanzo had a very rough childhood. His father Kenjiro was a small time thug and was often either drunk or high and would either beat on his mother, sister or him. This taught him very early that if he was to survive in this world he would have to be as cold and ruthless as a man that could beat children or women. As a small child he would work for the small time street gangs as a package runner, look out or even an informant when the time came for it. In time and as he grew older his father would eventually come to use his son as a tool to grow his own fledgling empire and for a time Hanzo played along.

It took ten years of hard work and sacrifice but Kenjiro along with Hanzo built an empire that would become a major player among the districts. With the major shut down of 11, 18, 19, and 20 business became slow for a while and so Hanzo left the family in order to build up his own empire and have his own money which caused a great divide among the family. During his time Hanzo became well known among the higher ups in Alpha as a man that would procure just about any and everything that the heart could possibly want and soon took on the moniker of Gentleman Jack to cover up any possible ties to the Takeda Family.

Five years passed and Hanzo had finally made a name for himself as a private security contractor and had all but forgotten the crime family he left behind, until the day that he found out that his father had died. The family lawyer had come by his place of work and for a moment he almost felt like he would miss the old man. Ever since that day Hanzo has walked a very fine line trying to balance his life as the head of a major crime family and the proprietor of his own company.

[YoshiSkittlez]

Played by Atrophy

<Name:/> Annie Taymur
<Nickname(s):/> Scooter/Scoot (“Professional” Handle)
<Gender:/> Female
<Age:/> 26

<Occupation:/> Carrier

The Carriers

A largely unorganized, semi-anonymous group of individuals that would qualify more as a network of independent contractors than as a gang. They have no hierarchy, no hideouts, and offer almost no support system for one another. The only thing that is given to you by becoming part of the Carriers is a reputable name to help you gather disreputable clients who would pay you handsomely to transport a package for them, be it narcotics, money, information, weapons, whatever—it isn’t a carrier’s job to know what they’re carrying, just for them to deliver it and to deliver it quickly. Hell, it’s better to not know what you’re holding, unless you feel like relying on alcohol and sleeping pills to put you to bed for the rest of your limited nights. Carriers often use handles so that they can keep in touch with repeat clients while still allowing for plenty of room for deniability of contact between the two parties if police, for whatever reason, decide to become involved. While there are a few people who are lifers, most people only work for the Carriers temporarily: get in, get paid, and get out. As long as you don’t do anything to ruin the brand, you’re good to go.

However, if you do fuck it up, you better be willing to be the fall guy and keep your lips shut tight, lest you want to find out what happens when carriers band together to take care of a blabbermouth.

<District:/> 14, although she’s an expat from District 17.

<Height:/>5’8”
<Weight:/> 140

<Appearance:/>


<Personality:/>

Annie is a career carrier, and it shows in how she behaves around others even while not on a job. She’s friendly, open, and casual while in conversation and is comfortable talking with strangers, but an astute observer would notice that she often tends to keep the focus on the person she’s talking to and off of herself outside of discussing her hobbies. Annie’s easy to make smile and laugh, acts generously while in the company of others and is quick to drop grudges, and overall seems fairly easy-going. When’s she not making a new connect, she can be seen scanning the room—for exits, for new acquaintances, for people watching her, for warning signs that shit’s about to go down—and when there is trouble she’s often the first to go. In fact, that’s the thing that most people learn about Annie once they spend a lot of time around her; if she’s not getting paid, she’s not willing to stick her neck out for anybody. She’s the ultimate fair-weather friend.

On the job, Annie’s known for her punctuality, her professionalism, and her reliability. Although she may privately judge those that she works for, she does not speak negatively towards them while under contract. Likewise, while carriers have the right to refuse any work that comes towards them, Annie is known for being the kind of carrier that is willing to take on any job. Annie’s morally ambiguous at best, especially if a job is involved. While she would never directly go out of her way to hurt someone, she fails to see the hypocrisy involved through her complicity when taking a gig where she’d run drugs or weapons to another district. After all, if she didn’t do it, somebody else would; this way she can at least take care of herself. It’s a rash way of looking at things, but that’s Annie in a nutshell: irresponsible. And, well, maybe a smart part of her realizes that, but for now she’s doing her best to ignore that little tiny voice of reason.

<Biography:/>

Annie was born in District 17 and, like all born in District 17, she has an uncontrollable urge to point out that while, yeah, sure, maybe she was poor, maybe she was less educated, maybe her parents did do drugs and maybe her brother, Art, sold drugs and maybe, that one time, she saw her brother sell drugs to their own mother instead of just giving her a fix like any decent son would, but at the end of the day at least she wasn’t one of those wannabe, doughy losers who lived in District 16. So see, from a young age Annie learned to put the world into perspective and to be thankful for what you have instead of coveting what you don’t have (because if you don’t have something you want, then you better just steal it instead of bitching to big brother for another handout because that’s just not how the world works, Annie.)

Annie’s youth was a fairly typical for somebody growing up in a broken home, embedding a whole assortment of trust and commitment issues in her that would come to bud once she began pursuing a forever downward-spiraling string of failed relationships later in life. Her father and her mother split-up when she was six for “reasons”. Her brother always said it was because she had actually a gift from the mailman, a thought that filled her with some excitement because perhaps the mailman would come back and take her to District 10 where she would live like a princess eating cake and bathing in money, or whatever it is those ritzy bastards did in District 10. Anyways, having split-up parents wasn’t all that bad; now she would have two birthdays a year where, once again, she got disappointment.

But really, besides that it was pretty rad. She and her brother would switch every couple of weeks or so between her mother’s rundown apartment and their father’s cramped studio. They would meet all sorts of strange “friends” of their parents who would never be seen or mentioned on their next visit. They would learn how to cook, because mom was often too high or dad was often too not-at-home to make dinner, and they got pretty good at fending for themselves. They learned how to rely on themselves as well as others, joining together with friends from school to form a sort of “youth group” that would help each other out in gathering supplies and protect one another from other “youth groups”. They learned that if they really wanted to make it in life then they should start selling a good that was in high demand.

They realized that, even if they were hardly educated, they needed to be smart and to not fuck this up.

Her brother was the one who came up with the idea that they should sell drugs, really. He was older by three years, and smarter, and stronger, so he was in charge. He made Annie agree that while they would sell it, they would never become users—they didn’t want to be like their parents, did they? She was happy to make that agreement. They convinced their friends to get involved. Annie would talk to those who were reticent to change their mind—she was more outgoing, patient, and even-tempered than her brother—and, if she failed, her brother would threaten them until they agreed to go along with it. There was no more beating around the bush, they were running a small gang. Well, Art was running a small gang. Annie was just complicit with it, although to this day she would deny having anything to do with naming them the eyeroll-inducing “One Sevens”.

The shitty name did little to reduce their business, and the Taymur siblings soon found themselves with more money than they knew what to do with. Well, Art found himself with more money than he knew what to do with; Annie found herself, for the first time in her life, with an allowance. Still, from day one Annie had issues with her brother holding onto most of the money. Eventually, she called him out for being greedy; he called her out for being irresponsible, citing the rusting, extremely overpriced “antique” sportbike she had purchased after their first big deal. She called him out for being an asshole. He called her out for being a bitch. She stormed out and went for a ride, an act that would become habitual over the years as the rift between the two of them began to grow.

Riding became her solace. If she wasn’t pushing, she was riding. Rather, if she was supposed to be pushing, she was riding. Annie lived for the feeling of wind rushing past her, the wrenching of her gut as she took a turn just a little too slightly, the neon blur of the world as she went faster, faster, faster. Annie began spending more of her time with people outside of her gang, other motorcycle and hoverbike enthusiast who introduced her to the street racing scene. Eventually her brother cut her off completely—she was no longer helping the One Sevens expand their drug empire, so she was no longer getting her meager morsel of the cut—but by then she was already racing for cash and for pink slips.

However, the One Sevens sparked tensions by pushing their product on a rival’s turf it wasn’t long before Annie began to feel unfriendly eyes on her whenever she took to the streets. Yet, there was no full on war and in Annie’s mind it didn’t matter either way; she wasn’t with the One Sevens anymore and she didn’t give a shit who about who stabbed who over the right to stand on a corner. She continued racing and living her life as usual, going for rides on a variety of bikes. She had a few bikes now thanks to a handful of fortunate wins, and her most favorite one was a bright yellow hoverbike that had been decked out in all sorts of pulsating neon lights. Super flashy. Super recognizable.

One night she lost that hoverbike in a race. There was nothing she could do about it; the other racer was just better. As she watched her beloved bike ride away into the night jealousy gave way to horror as a black van peeled out from a side street and collided at breakneck speed into the bike. The bike was mangled; the rider went flying, shattering on to the ground several yards away. Any question on whether it had been an accident or not was erased as a squad of gangbangers piled out of the car, grabbed the body, and jumped back into the van as it squealed away. Annie’s racing friends always chided her for wearing a helmet; now, she was thankful for the anonymity. When the kidnappers figured out that they had gotten the wrong person she knew that they would come back for her.

She also knew that if they were planning to try and use her as blackmail to get her brother to lay off his expansion then both she and the gangbangers would be thoroughly disappointed. Annie packed up what little she had, jumped upon her old junker, and fled the District. She could’ve gone to her brother and seek some form of refuge, but she knew she couldn’t go groveling back to him. Pride, mostly, but she liked to believe it was that she just didn’t want to continue to have ties with someone who so enthusiastically hooked people on drugs. Nah, okay, it was just pride. Annie spent the next few nights more or less homeless before she found a room for rent over a liquor store in District 14.

She only had enough money for a month of rent, and the racing scene in District 14 was either nonexistent or extremely good at being elusive. Perhaps the cops here cared more. Regardless, she needed to find a way to make some money, but with no work history, no reputable references, and with no real desire to work the counter at a coffee shop while some pimply manager four years younger than her tells her that she really needs to work on her customer service. Instead of joining the mindless deluge of shift workers, Annie decided to become a carrier. She would get to ride her bike all night while acting as an overpaid delivery boy; it sounded like a pretty sweet gig.

Of course, saying you’re a carrier and actually being a carrier were two different things. Normally, someone became a carrier by being brought in and introduced to a few potential clients by another carrier until they could prove themselves and expand their base. Doing so without any connections was tough, but not impossible. Plus, Annie had an upperhand—years of working for her brother left her with the knowledge of where to find unscrupulous types. She knew how the work the angles, she knew how to speak their language, and she knew how to fuck off and become scarce when signs began pointing towards an imminent knifing.

Better still, she knew how to conduct herself around people who weren’t like that, meaning she didn’t scare the shit out of normies. It was only a matter of time before she was able to get a steady gig running packets from some back alley pharmacist in D15 to university students in D10 looking for something to help them with their late night studies. It wasn’t the best paying job, but it paid the rent and put her in contact with the future burnouts of New Ancora. Most importantly, it gave her plenty of opportunities to ride, and the anonymity of the job prevented word from leaking back to D17 that she was still alive in case her brother’s enemies decided to get any more grand ideas. In Annie’s mind, she was set.

In fact, she was more than set: she was a lifer. For the next five years, Annie formed a web of trusted contacts that she would regularly work for and occasionally accept offer from one of their many “friend of a friend's” types that would show up once and never be heard from again. Work would dry up every now and then—some hotshot kid from the BoD would try to stir up the status quo and try to make a move against the otherwise regularly ignored questionable types that loitered around Zone Beta, or a carrier would be caught with a package and begin running their mouth before one of their own could shut them up. Still, the dry periods would end, and Annie would find herself back in work with relative ease once the tensions died down

Yet, despite the success, she’s lately begun to feel as if she has become stuck. When her brother called her irresponsible all those years ago she took it as a compliment, but now she’s no longer so sure. Who knows, maybe he was right, maybe she should take some responsibility. Like, isn’t part of the reason D17’s such a dumpster fire because she helped her brother with his childish “let’s start a gang!” plan? Maybe she could do something about it.

Or, fuck it, she could just go for a ride instead. It’s not her problem.

<Other:/>

-Despite not liking the bastard, Annie has kept her promise to her brother: she never became a user. She has enough horror stories about baseheads and Lucid dreamers to know that a little bit of fun isn’t worth it, and if she was going to get herself killed she’d rather do it quickly by losing control of her bike at a hundred mph and slamming into a wall then slowly atrophying until she was nothing a pile of loose flesh and bones feverishly searching for the one uncollapsed vein in her body. She doesn’t even fuck around with cigarettes, and has a hard two-drink maximum when it comes to alcohol.

-As a carrier, Annie’s not in the safest line of work. There’s always somebody looking to make a quick buck or score some free shit by jumping a carrier. When it comes down to flight or fight, any veteran carrier knows that while the latter is unavoidable, it is best to follow the former any time you can. So while Annie is capable of defending herself—she carries a stun gun and a knife—she’s more proficient at simply escaping, and can often outrun, outjump, and outlast most pursuers on foot. If she gets to her bike she’s pretty much uncatchable. Years of street racing has shaped her into an extremely capable driver, and her work has helped craft a mental map of most of Zone Beta in her head.

[YoshiSkittlez]

..