IgaFlan

Neon Skies

Fix's CS is done. Let me know if anything needs to be tweaked.

Neon Skies

@wrecca When you put it like that, then it does make some sense. I can see Fix, unwilling to piss off Lotus, not making Sam one of his "friends" but in exchange for info/discreet work, he'd probably want to know more about her magical talent. He's likely heard many tales of magic, as when he was a child he lived in an elven conclave. But here style of magic is likely something that he hasn't heard of before, and that probably intrigues him. Maybe he only charges a fraction of the cost for his work done for her, but the rest of that is made up with her telling him about her magic?

Also I'm almost done his history. Finally.
History is done, yay. Time to clear up the remaining bits of his app.

Neon Skies

@wrecca What were you thinking in terms of business relationship would you be thinking of? I'm not against the idea, as it would make sense that Fix would know someone working for a Corp. But how would Sam know him? I'm just thinking why someone who works for Lotus would bother working with someone who would be seen as a 'small fry'.

Also, in general @Mag Lev would it be possible to have a modified version of a Vorpal blade, where it would be smaller (likely the size of a knife/dagger)?

Upon the Threads of Fate

The sound of someone trying to pry the door to the shack open was overwhelmed by the sheer roar of the sound of the wind. As such Gael paid little mind when his home seemed to shutter with more voracity. He merely gritted his teeth together and prayed to whatever god there was that the walls wouldn’t collapse in on him. If this kept up then he was starting to lose faith that this hunk of junk would last throughout the nig-

BANG!

It felt like his soul had been forcefully ripped from his body, and it took a few moments before feeling regained its hold on him. His face, now pale and sunken turned towards the origin of the sound, and he found his eyes widening in disbelief.

A woman, one that he did not recognize, had seemingly fallen to the floor. It took him a few seconds for the shock to wane before he could start to piece everything together. She must have tried to enter, perhaps out of desperation to get out of the storm, and had been… flung into his home. It sounded rather bizarre, but there didn’t seem to be any other probable cause. Unless this woman really wanted her fortune told, despite the weather. In which caused he admired her determination.

Gael moved slowly, as if the stranger wasn’t a human but some kind of feral animal. He wasn’t exactly sure how he should address the situation, this wasn’t how most customers entered his home, and he wasn’t even sure if this woman knew where she was. From the look of her startled expression, she was likely to be just as confused as he was.

“Are you quite alright?” He asked, moving forward, still cautious but with more pose than before. He extended one of his hands out to the now sitting woman, offering to help her back up to her feet if she wished. She looked cold, and snow seemed to cover her garments. What had anyone of sane mind been doing out in this weather? Perhaps he better not ask.

He had little in the way to keep her warm, nor did he have anything to offer her to eat or drink, but he wasn’t so callous as to turn away someone who had quite literally crashed into his home. Besides, if he played his cards right perhaps he could sway her into becoming a customer.

In that case than he ought to be on his best behaviour.

Upon the Threads of Fate

It was freezing, enough so that most men would rather face the maw of a lion than brave the icy winds. The mere reveal of tender flesh would be consumed within moments of interacting with the bitter storm. Those who did walk the slush-covered roads did so covered head to toe in thick furs and heavy cloth. Most, however, were huddled inside, cozying up to their fires and hoping that the brunt of the storm would quickly pass.

But it never did.

Despite the storm, a small rickety shack seemed open for business. With each ram of the wind the whole structure seemed to sway, and it was dangerously apparent that the storm need only be a bit stronger to collapse the whole place. Given this, most would think it absurd that someone actually worked there, much less lived there as well. It wasn’t as though the resident had any choice in the matter, if it were up to him he’d leave in an instant. The unfortunate truth was that without this shack, his only other option would be to live on the streets, with nothing but his leathers to protect him. In weather like this he’d likely only last a half hour at best before being a victim to mother nature. At least this way he had a chance at survival, and even if he didn’t, he supposed that being crushed by rubble would be a better alternative to freezing to death.

This resident, a man by the name of Gael, sat on a cushion on the dank floor of the shack, quickly skimming through the pages of a book he’d purchased. Well, purchased was perhaps not the right term, he’d ‘loaned’ it from a vendor at the marketplace. He did have intentions to return it, eventually, but for now it was the only company he had to wither out this storm.

“Bullshit,” he mumbled to himself as he scanned a page before turning to the other. “Even worse.” Flipping the pages his eyes seemed to roll into the back of his head. “People believe this garbage? Truly?” The book that he’d nicked had been about the use of prophetic magic, and how anyone, yes anyone, could determine their own future. According to this book it was as easy as looking towards the stars and reading them, the reader only need an open mind to learn all that would befall them.

Nonsense, really.

Real soothsaying was not that easy, and it was certainly not something that everyone could do. One needed to have an inborn affinity for it, and even then it wasn’t as simple as some would make it out to be. You needed complete and utter silence, and you needed to, well, it was difficult to put in words, but reach was perhaps the best way to put it. You needed to reach out your mind to the other person, and you needed to understand them. You needed to feel how they saw the world, how they understood their surroundings, and then and only then, could you look past it and see what would become of them. You had to channel all your energy and focus — yes, focus was key — and brave through the fog of uncertainty, a fog that many fledgling oracles could find themselves lost in. Gael disliked the feeling that this fog gave him, it was not dissimilar to the feeling of the winter, cold and unnerving, a sea of unknown. One had to study, had to practice, before they could begin to see shapes in the fog— shapes of what was to be.

It was a draining process, and not one that Gael particularly enjoyed. Still, he’d learned to deal with the sinking feeling that came with his ability, it was after all the only thing that was keeping him alive.

Letting out a light huff he shut the book and tossed it aside. He was unlikely to get any customers today, the weather being as it was. That was mildly disappointing, as he was starting to run out of coin from his last reading. He’d be lucky if he could buy a small loaf of bread with what remained. Standing up, he gave his back a light stretch and yawned. What time was it? It seemed to always be dark, and it was beginning to fool with his sleeping schedule. Not that he managed to get much sleep anyways, with only a thin cot and worn blanket to keep him comfortable.

It really was a miserable set-up he had here. The cot, a couple of cushions for himself and a customer, and a small stack of books, most ‘loans’ that he had long since forgotten to return. Other than that he had nothing in the way of entertainment or comfort, and that was, slowly but steadily, starting to eat away at him. He wished nothing more than to have somewhere comfortable to live, and all the books he could ever desire to read. But, no, that was something so far out of reach that even dreaming of it was taboo for him. He couldn’t focus on what ifs, but instead remain in the present.

And the present happened to be a rotten shack in the middle of a goddamn blizzard.

Upon the Threads of Fate

Gael Ansout

---

---

Name: Gael Ansout
Age: 29
Sex: Male
Nationality: Fairden

Bio: Born in a small rural town Gael had a rough childhood. He never knew his father, and his mother was quite sickly, often relying on Gael to make money for the both of them. Even from a young age it was clear that he had an inclination for the occult, and as such used his fledgling powers in order to read the fortunes of curious travelers, in exchange for some food or a bit of coin. Word eventually spread that what this boy said was oftentimes true, and as a result he began to get more and more customers. Things were, for the first time in a long time, looking up for him. This all came crashing down when his mother took a turn for the worst and passed away. Gael blamed himself, figuring that he should've been able to see that she was getting worse, and done something about it.

For awhile he kept himself shut away, unwilling to speak to anyone, much less read any fates. While he would eventually come to dust himself off and move on, it's clear that this is something that still lingers at the back of his mind, and something that he'll never be able to forgive himself for.

After the death of his mother nothing was keeping him in the small town that he called home, and he instead made the long, harsh journey to the capital city, in the hopes that he would be able to get more clientele there. This turned out to be both true and false. While he did still get customers, most people who spoke with him were naysayers. It seemed that the city wasn't as open to the concept of "witchcraft" as the country was. Still Gael refused to leave his new home, and has remained ever since.

He gets enough customers to keep him afloat, if just barely. It's not uncommon for him to go to bed hungry. He hopes that, eventually, he'll get some kind of big break that allows him to break out of this ceaseless poverty, though those hopes dwindle by the day.

Upon the Threads of Fate

Ignore this post.

Neon Skies

Wojciech "The Fixer" Engel

Wojciech "The Fixer" Engel

---

---

”Second only to the dead in keeping secrets."

---

---

Personal Information

Character Name/Alias: Wojciech "The Fixer" Engel (He typically goes by 'Fix')

Age: 32

Sex: Male

Race: Elf

Profession: "Handy-man" (Need someone dead? Need someone to clean up the bodies? Need an alibi? Fix is your man.)

---

---

Background Information

History: Even from the first breath that he’d ever take, the concept of ‘give and take’ would hound Fix. Due to complications during her pregnancy and child-birth his mother - Zoe died shortly after he was born. Despite the best attempts from their conclave to revive her, it seemed as though her death was impossible to avoid.

His father, Fabian, was not in Austria at the time, having been given a job opportunity in Lotus City. After word was sent of his wife’s death, it seemed as though he was reluctant to return, perhaps fearing that doing so would cement the idea that she was dead. Instead, for the first few years of his life Fix was raised in Vienna by other members of his parents conclave. They were fairly secretive, and were more prone to isolationism, even in this day and age. As soon as he was able to talk Fix was introduced to the idea of magic. Unfortunately for him it seemed as though he was fairly limited in what he could and couldn’t do. The only thing that he took to was illusion magic, particularly in memory manipulation. Still this was fairly limited, and most of the time it didn’t even work. On the off chance that it did it was minor and nothing of note.

When Fix turned eight it was finally determined that he would go and live with his father. Fabian returned to Vienna now and again, and would often speak of the wonders of Lotus City, which amazed Fix. He wished to see this city in this flesh, and he wished to live with his father, who always seemed so kindly and laid-back. The conclave was a reluctant to say the least, but they eventually decided that it would be best to let Fix go and live with his father. That was why, during his father’s last visit, his bags were packed, and he followed his father east to a new home.

Fix will always remember the first time that he saw the city stretch out in front of him, how it seemed as though it were infinite. Vienna had been large, but no where near as large as Lotus City. It seemed almost surreal to him, and he wondered how he would ever fit in to such a place.

And though he would only find out years later those worries would turn out to be unfounded.

His father worked full-time as an engineer, and despite having a fairly decent pay, the apartment that the two of them would share was incredibly cramped. As such Fix would often spend most of his time outside. His father cautioned him from wandering too far from the house, but as days went on Fix would become more and more bold, venturing further and further. This city was fascinating to him, and he wanted to learn everything he could about it. He wanted to see everything, experience everything that it had to offer.

It would be one of the days that he was out that his father would be victim to a horrible accident. He’d been crushed while performing routine maintenance on an automobile. While he’d brought to the hospital soon enough that his life was saved, he still wasn’t out of the woods yet. His legs had been crushed beyond all that modern science could fix, and he was outfitted with augmented prosthetics in their place. This was a huge expense on the family, and even Fix could see that his father was stressed. As if to make matters worse his body was reluctant to accept his new legs, and he was forced to take Lupus to deal with the rejection. Any hope that Fix had of living a happy life with his father had been turned on its head.

Angry, drugged-out, and desperate Fabian began to get more and more stressed, until it finally manifested into aggression. His breaking-point was after being ‘let go’ by the company that worked for, as they believed that he was no longer mentally capable of doing his job. Fix was the only target to relieve the raw anger, and as much Fabian would often get violent with his son. This only drove Fix away from home even more often, and he desperately tried to avoid his father. He missed the caring man that he knew as a child, and blamed his father’s deteriorating state on the prosthetics. Staying out longer and longer, it eventually got to the point where Fix wouldn’t see his father for days at a time. Sometimes it would be because he would leave home for ages at a time, others was due to his father sneaking out in the middle of the night, and not returning home until a day or two later. While Fix still doesn’t completely know what happened to his father during these times, he supposed that it was likely something to do with Lupus, as, when his father would return home, he was always less tense than normal.

During these times Fix tried to keep himself occupied by doing odd-jobs. A man by the name of Benji would often give him pocket-money in exchange for doing mild labour for him, or by having Fix get information for him. After all, no one’s going to expect that some random elven kid is eavesdropping on them. Fix had to learn how to get creative in some of his endeavours, and has done everything from pretending to be a cripple, or even a girl, to get the information that he needed. Benji was always good on his payments, and so Fix kept helping him out. He was never sure what Benji was exactly doing with said information, but he always figured that it was better that he not ask.

When he was seventeen he would see his father for the last time. His father left to meet up with whomever he did when he snuck out, but he never returned. Fix waited for days, but there was no response from his father. It eventually got to the point where the apartment that they lived at was given an eviction notice, and Fix, packing up whatever he could take with him, was forced to go to the streets to live.

Figuring that Benji was the only person that he could rely on, he went to speak to the man about figuring out a more permanent situation. Benji offered to help Fix out, giving him a roof over his head, and at least one meal a day, but he needed to make sure that he worked for his keep. Odd-jobs and small info grabs weren’t going to cut it anymore, if he wanted somewhere to live he’d have to get more involved in the underbelly of the city.

Not having much of a choice Fix accepted his offer, and then began to work for Benji as a full time collaborator and information broker. Oftentimes he was sent out to facilitate the trade of goods, both in and out, and was sent on more dangerous info-grabs. The work was gruelling and more often than not gruesome. But Fix would come to look fondly at this time of his life, given that it opened him up to many of Benji’s contacts that he otherwise would’ve never met. This continued for six years, and when Fix turned twenty-three another catalyst would come to rock his world.

A few of Benji’s men had been killed in what had supposed to be a routine job. Fix, curious, decided to look into it, and eventually came to the conclusion that Benji had willingly sacrificed his men in order to get in good favour with a rival gang. Fix, letting a few other members know about Benji’s treachery, sent out to kill their former leader. It ended up with Fix giving the final blow - the first and only time he’d directly murdered someone.

Disorganized, the group split up, all of them going their separate ways. Fix was lucky enough that one of Benji’s men - a former soldier named Ajax - was willing to stick by Fix’s side, evidently one of the men Benji had left for dead had been a close friend of his, and he felt as though he owed Fix.

From there on out Fix began to work on his own, trying to make a name for himself. Using his contacts to his advantage he began to work grunt jobs in the slums. Murders, body disposals, you name it. This is also where his ideology started to come into play. Knowing that debt was one of the main things that ruled the world, and that he couldn’t risk building a solid organization for fear that there’d be another snitch, he started to rotate his “friends” - people who needed his help but couldn’t - or didn’t - pay. These people never knew one another, and worked off their debt on their own, this to minimize the risk of a leak. This started to become a more solid methodology when Fix started to refuse payment from particularly gifted individuals whom he thought would be of use to him.

Now, years later, he’s become a small, yet noteworthy fish, in the criminal underworld. He and his “friends” are seen as a reliable last resort, and he can boast that anyone who requires his assistance can obtain it. Rarely has anyone tried to back out of a deal with him, and those who seem to forget their debts always appear to vanish.

Because, in this world, debts must be paid.

Country of Origin: Austria

Personality: To understand Fix is to understand the concept of debt. That nothing in this life is free, and that everyone is, in some way, indebted to another. This is the sole philosophy that Fix lives by, and the reason why he’s managed to get as far as he has.

While some might consider Fix a petty criminal, he sees himself as a light in the darkness, a hope for people who feel as though there’s no escape from their crimes. He will always offer a helping hand to those who ask, though mind you, the cost may be high. While most in his position would require money for their services, the way that Fix operates is slightly different. While he will sometimes require an ‘up-front payment’ he’s more likely to evaluate your worth. If you seem like a person who could be potentially a worth-while investment he will refuse a cash payment and instead simply ask you to ‘return the favour’. This methodology is what has turned his petty ‘clean up’ services into something much larger. At any given time Fix will have around a dozen of ‘friends’ (as he likes to call them), people who are indebted to him, and must work in order to pay him back. Oftentimes if you request help from Fix he won’t be the one to actually do the dirty work, and he’ll instead send one of his ‘friends’ to do the job for him. In all honesty he is simply a middle-man, but one that will keep his word.

Reliability is not something you’d expect from someone living in the slums, and yet Fix can claim as much. If you strike up a deal with him then he will complete his end of the bargain, no questions asked. So long as you’re willing to be indentured to him for a short time, he will help you out of any problem that you’ve found yourself stuck in. Some might see this as reason enough to deal with the cost of his help, while others may be put off from the idea of working for a lowly criminal.

Fix has never been one for combat, not on an ethical level, no, he’d be very willing to shoot a man dead if they’d wronged him. It’s just that he’s not particularly savvy at the art of fighting. He’s a scrawny man, making him pitiful in a brawl, and while he is an elf his magical capabilities are lacklustre when compared to the majority of his species. He has enough power to put up a small fight, but not enough that he’d actually be likely to win a match with anyone even remotely confident in their fighting abilities. This is why he always takes the chance to ‘recruit’ those who have a clear physical aptitude. Considering that it’s not wise to wander around the streets if you’re unable to defend yourself.

This lack of fortitude is made up in intelligence and charisma. He’s good at reading people, and knowing how to handle them. He can lie through his teeth on the drop of a dime, and is can change his entire persona when the need arises. He knows how to approach different people, and has a great insight into how the mind operates. Those who know him have said that they aren’t sure if they’ve ever met the ‘real’ Fix, only whatever facade he’s put on just for them. At this point it’s unlikely that even Fix remembers who he really is, not that he worries much about that.

Due to his experiences with augs in the past, Fix is fairly anti-augmentation. He won’t discriminate towards someone who has them, and is perfectly willing to help them out if they need it (after all those who are augmented can be quite useful to him). However he’s unwilling to help anyone get their hands on augs, nor will he help them get Lupus if they require it. This is perhaps the only thing that he refuses to feign interest in, and should you ask him what he thinks about augs, you’ll likely get a very blunt negative response. Obviously, due to this stance he doesn’t have any augmentations himself, and has gone on the record saying that he would rather die than have any augs placed in his body.

At the end of the day Fix is a business-man, and thrives in doing what he does. He knows that most people will be unable (or unwilling) to see what he does as anything even remotely positive, though he doesn’t mind. He’s making money and that’s really the only thing that matters.

Relationships:

Father: Fabian Engel (Presumed Deceased)
Mother: Zoe Engel (Deceased)
"Friends": Various, most are young people (teens and early 20s) who got in over their head and needed help. One in particular is a augmented human named Ajax, who works primarily as Fix's right-hand man.

---

---

Equipment Roster

Possessions: Fix doesn't typically keep much on his person. Aside from his weapons, the only thing that he usually keeps on him is a few cigarettes, a lighter, and some chump change. He isn't a fan of carrying anything more on him, least he tempt the chance of him getting mugged.

Weapons:

• Vorpal Blade - Only around the size of a pocket-knife, this miniature version of the vorpal sword is something that Fix keeps on his person at all times.
• 9mm - Despite being considered an old fashion weapon, Fix has always enjoyed the 9mm. The muzzle has also been outfitted with a silencer.

Augs: N/A

Armor: The only armour that Fix has in his possession is his leather jacket, which has a bullet resistant weave combed into it.

Skills/Magic:

• Coercion - Fix is a particularly well-spoken individual, making it easy for him to be able to persuade people into doing what he wants them to. He knows when and how to say things, and is completely willing to bend his personality in whatever way is necessary for him to get the upper-end of any deal.
• Illusion Magic - The only type of magic that Fix has any proficiency in. Despite this he could be seen as moderate (at best) in terms of his actual magical ability. Most of his 'ability' comes from his natural ability to deceive and mislead others. This combined with his magical skills makes him fairly decent practitioner of the field.
• General Knowledge - Being someone that interacts with many people on a regular basis Fix has a firm grasp on the general happenings in the city. While somethings may be out of his league (namely the inner workings of Corps), in terms of the city and citizens itself, he considers himself to be quite up to date. Perhaps not as much as a Decker, but not too bad for someone who mostly learns by-ear.
• Memory - Likely one of the reasons Fix has lasted as long as he has, has been in great part due to his memory. While not infallible, he is sports a fairly reliable and long-lasting memory. He is particularly good when it comes to remembering faces/names.

Other: N/A

Neon Skies: A Cyberpunk Adventure

This looks like a really cool idea, and I love the idea of throwing fantasy elements into the mix.
Colour me interested.

Devil Summoner: Hero Insurrection

I'm definitely interested if this goes ahead. I'm also in the boat of Devil Summoner being one of the SMT series I'm less familiar with. That said, I'm sure it won't take me too long to get a grasp on things.