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Name/Nicknames:
Ardur “po-po” Sage
Gender:
Male
Age:
Thirty-Five
Male
Age:
Thirty-Five
Appearance
Standing at a height of six-foot three inches tall, Ardur looks every bit the workout enthusiast as a lean, but toned, muscular frame fills his tall body with ease. His hair is dark brown in color and he wears it freely while he takes meticulous care of his beard, styling it to a point while also using copious amounts of beard oil and shampoo on the daily. He has dark brown eyes that never seem to grab the compliments he expects. On a normal day you will find him wearing any combination of simple khaki shorts and odd colored shirt to pair with it, sometimes with last night's drinks still stained on them. When he is working a case, however, you will find him wearing dark pants, a white shirt, high grade combat boots, and a dark brown leather jacket that appears to have seen one winter too many.
Standing at a height of six-foot three inches tall, Ardur looks every bit the workout enthusiast as a lean, but toned, muscular frame fills his tall body with ease. His hair is dark brown in color and he wears it freely while he takes meticulous care of his beard, styling it to a point while also using copious amounts of beard oil and shampoo on the daily. He has dark brown eyes that never seem to grab the compliments he expects. On a normal day you will find him wearing any combination of simple khaki shorts and odd colored shirt to pair with it, sometimes with last night's drinks still stained on them. When he is working a case, however, you will find him wearing dark pants, a white shirt, high grade combat boots, and a dark brown leather jacket that appears to have seen one winter too many.
Personality:
A consummate tracker and collector, raised in a time where the contracts rained aplenty and desperation ran high, Ardur is constantly scanning his surroundings and is unwavering focused on the task at hand. Well versed in using his charm to his advantage, he knows how to not only talk his way into places that are usually not privy to outsiders, but also to help people through rough spots as well. That’s not to say he is boisterous, though. While he’s often quiet and reserved around others, he is well spoken which surprises a few people due to his addiction. His demons haunt him greatly, and he has taken to alcohol to keep them at bay. While high-functioning he may be, his addiction is still carried around everywhere he goes. Even though he never works a contract under the influence, he can feel the cold whispers of sweet relief creeping into his mind whenever he is not under the influence. Ardur has a high sense of honour and decency, and he carries it like a badge in a city overrun by all the bad that life offers.
When the horns of battle are sounded, however, Ardur is ferocious and savage. His life has made him prepared for this after all.
Bio:
Ardur is the son of a former peacekeeper and a drug addict, a strange marriage and one that was cut too short. His mother’s side of the family had a long history of drug addiction that seemed to flow in their blood. His father, a morally straight peacekeeper who left the force because of rampant corruption, lost his faith in the service after being written up for attempting to arrest a known mobster. A few threats were thrown around, though not enough to stick and certainly not enough to convict a mobster, after all. He dragged himself away from it all, and settled down in Arcadia with the goal of starting a family. Ardur remembers little of his father as the mobster he crossed made sure he paid for his moral code in blood, and when Ardur was just three years old his father was taken from him. Ardurs’ mother, at the time a young woman, tried to take care of the young boy herself with help from her family and friends, but she was too preoccupied getting high to truly get it right. And so, at the ripe age of just ten, Ardur began to explore the city around while his mother was chasing the dragon. Of course, as he was still a child, he never drew too much attention from the people on the streets. He blended in.
For the next decade, his life was one in the streets; only returning home to sleep and shower. He played, watched, and learned. Eventually his talents were noticed by memebers of the Miliata and he started to do work for them as a runner, as well as a lookout. The Milita was unlike any gang in Arcadia, for a time at least. They were warriros of the downtrodden, fighting back agianst oppresive corporations as well as ruthless gang members. This stuck out in the still-young mind of Ardur. From what he has seen in Arcadia, and from what he was told about other Megacities like it, there was little good for the honest folks. With the milita, he was finally granted a stable life; he was given a family. Up until his twentyfith birthday, Ardur spent his days training and fighting back for the commoners.
The Militia, however, would eventually succumb to the darkness that inhabits the soul of Arcadia. They began to tolerate more and more criminal behavior, with the group quickly losing any and all shred of decency. Ardur, and those close to him, saw this as a problem. The small group attempted a coup to take over the leadership and failed, with Ardur badly injured in the fighting. He awoke a few days later in a hospital, arms replaced by metal, and not a clue in the world as to how he afforded it. Someone took pity on him for his stance, he guessed, and saw the stand he took against the corrupting influence of power. Knowing that nothing in Arcadia is ever free, Ardur knew that whomever granted him this gift will eventually come for a repayment; and he wants to be ready in case they want their payment in blood.
After his release from the hospital, Ardur started down a new career path; one of a Private Investigator mixed with that of a bounty hunter. He operates under the nick name “po-po” in reference to the father he never knew. Over the next decade he did not make a big name for himself with the investigations, mostly because he refused over half his potential clients on a moral ground. He is, however, somewhat known as a bounty hunter. And with this talk of a golden disk, one that Ardur could use to even the playing field between commoner and mobster, has Ardur excited. This is one bounty that cannot be passed up.
Equipment:
Python Arsenal Modular 14.5mm Battle Rifle:-
Ardur uses the state of the art PA-19 Battle Rifle for most, if not all, situations. The gun itself is a recoil dampened, modular system that shifts between three modes. The first and most standard mode is that of a bullup-style battle rifle with a barrel length of just over 32 inches. The 14.5mm cartridge used provides more than enough stopping power, with the recoil of said round being handled by a "deject" style dampener that allows for full automatic fire while enabling the user some semblance of control. The second, and frequently used, module is the EBPA-19 modification kit that extends the barrel to allow for more accurate fire over range. The EBPA-19 extends the barrel of the gun to a length of just over 42 inches, while also providing a "stand alone" model smart bipod that deploys without the user's input. Included with this modification is the "Schmidt" optical kit that acts as the sights for the weapon; working with or without the EBPA-19 modification. Attached to the side of the main body of the gun, a 6.5-20x40 Wang zoom camera is mounted and provides the user a comprehensive and effective sight for the weapon. The zoom is on par with most Peacekeeper rifle modifications allowing the user to place a tight grouping at ranges of up to 500 yards. The gun sight works in conjunction with the contact lens provided that directly overlay the zoom, with the distance controls adjusted with the use of a companion implant in the fingers that allow the wielder total control over their weapon. The gun sight will, in normal use, show the user where, in real time, their gun barrel is aiming to better assist the user. The third module is less a overall and more of an addition, with two suppressors that fit either mode with ease. It's recommended to always use the suppressor as the PA-19 fired without it has been shown to cause hearing impairments when fired around unprotected ears.
Depending on the situation, the weapon can fire two separate types of rounds.
-PA-195 Armor-piercing Incendiary Anti-Material round.
Intended for use on hardned target, the PA-165 has a weight of 70 grams and a length of 58 millimeters long.
-PA-201 Armor-piercing incendiary tracer full metal jacket round with a steel core
Intended for use of 'soft' targets. The PA-201 has a weight of 59 grams and is 50 millimeters long.
Unknown Manufacturer - Cybernetic Arms -
His cybernetic arms are a little less impressive than most on the market. Not stronger, faster, or better connected than most designs, it's simplicity in function and use leaves little desire for Ardur to upgrade to a better model now that he has the funds to do so. He is strong enough to wield his weapon, fight off un-upgraded enemies, and fast enough to assist in hand to hand combat. Though those with more cybernetic implants, and better parts, will always beat him in that arena; forcing Ardur to keep with his gun to avoid those situations. His arms, are however, very resistant to most forms of munitions. He has not tested it's true resilience yet, out of a fear of damaging them outright, but he has seen a stray low caliber bullet fail at damaging it.
Ardur has attempted to I.D the manufacture of his cybernetic arms, but to date he has yet to match it to any known manufacturer.
Colt .45 caliber Service Pistol -
Standard pistol for generations, the Service pistol is a common to find and easy to maintain option for self-defense, and the occasional offense. While it lacks many of the modern features that newer platforms have, it's rugged charm and high-powered ammunition have meant that the Service is still capable in the right hands.
VC - assistant model:
Ardur has a semi-modern VC, or Virtual Companion, model installed in his home and office. The unit consists of an ear implant that allows the VC to communicate with the user, a software package that allows the VC to have access to what ever you grant it access to (finances, social media, etc,), as well as a choice of both voice and personality of the VC itself. Ardur chose the assistant model as it had more advanced features when it comes to running his finances. The assistant model can pay bills with security features that make it very hard for any outside party. The VC unfortunatly stays at home as the brains of it are rather bulky and not easy to transport.
Holo-gen Holotable:
Ardur has built a very powerful Holotable into the standard, regal looking oak desk in his office. By day, it looks like your standard oak desk with a very clean finish. At the press of a button, located on the left side of the desk, the sides collapse allowing the top to flip over and reveal the holotable itself. The table has numerous abilities that assist Ardur with both his lines of work. The table has the power to produce scaled down versions of locations, allowing Ardur to plan out his bounty strikes in advance. It also has the power to show, if connected, live feeds in real time in a three dimensional way that gives Ardur the ability to see a scene more clearly than a still or traditional video.
Other:
-Pack a day smoker
-Drinks whisky normally but anything will do in a pinch, even Something Else
-Something Else is an alcoholic drink that is awful
-Has a flask on him at all times
-While drunk, Ardur likes to listen to Classic Earth music.
A consummate tracker and collector, raised in a time where the contracts rained aplenty and desperation ran high, Ardur is constantly scanning his surroundings and is unwavering focused on the task at hand. Well versed in using his charm to his advantage, he knows how to not only talk his way into places that are usually not privy to outsiders, but also to help people through rough spots as well. That’s not to say he is boisterous, though. While he’s often quiet and reserved around others, he is well spoken which surprises a few people due to his addiction. His demons haunt him greatly, and he has taken to alcohol to keep them at bay. While high-functioning he may be, his addiction is still carried around everywhere he goes. Even though he never works a contract under the influence, he can feel the cold whispers of sweet relief creeping into his mind whenever he is not under the influence. Ardur has a high sense of honour and decency, and he carries it like a badge in a city overrun by all the bad that life offers.
When the horns of battle are sounded, however, Ardur is ferocious and savage. His life has made him prepared for this after all.
Bio:
Ardur is the son of a former peacekeeper and a drug addict, a strange marriage and one that was cut too short. His mother’s side of the family had a long history of drug addiction that seemed to flow in their blood. His father, a morally straight peacekeeper who left the force because of rampant corruption, lost his faith in the service after being written up for attempting to arrest a known mobster. A few threats were thrown around, though not enough to stick and certainly not enough to convict a mobster, after all. He dragged himself away from it all, and settled down in Arcadia with the goal of starting a family. Ardur remembers little of his father as the mobster he crossed made sure he paid for his moral code in blood, and when Ardur was just three years old his father was taken from him. Ardurs’ mother, at the time a young woman, tried to take care of the young boy herself with help from her family and friends, but she was too preoccupied getting high to truly get it right. And so, at the ripe age of just ten, Ardur began to explore the city around while his mother was chasing the dragon. Of course, as he was still a child, he never drew too much attention from the people on the streets. He blended in.
For the next decade, his life was one in the streets; only returning home to sleep and shower. He played, watched, and learned. Eventually his talents were noticed by memebers of the Miliata and he started to do work for them as a runner, as well as a lookout. The Milita was unlike any gang in Arcadia, for a time at least. They were warriros of the downtrodden, fighting back agianst oppresive corporations as well as ruthless gang members. This stuck out in the still-young mind of Ardur. From what he has seen in Arcadia, and from what he was told about other Megacities like it, there was little good for the honest folks. With the milita, he was finally granted a stable life; he was given a family. Up until his twentyfith birthday, Ardur spent his days training and fighting back for the commoners.
The Militia, however, would eventually succumb to the darkness that inhabits the soul of Arcadia. They began to tolerate more and more criminal behavior, with the group quickly losing any and all shred of decency. Ardur, and those close to him, saw this as a problem. The small group attempted a coup to take over the leadership and failed, with Ardur badly injured in the fighting. He awoke a few days later in a hospital, arms replaced by metal, and not a clue in the world as to how he afforded it. Someone took pity on him for his stance, he guessed, and saw the stand he took against the corrupting influence of power. Knowing that nothing in Arcadia is ever free, Ardur knew that whomever granted him this gift will eventually come for a repayment; and he wants to be ready in case they want their payment in blood.
After his release from the hospital, Ardur started down a new career path; one of a Private Investigator mixed with that of a bounty hunter. He operates under the nick name “po-po” in reference to the father he never knew. Over the next decade he did not make a big name for himself with the investigations, mostly because he refused over half his potential clients on a moral ground. He is, however, somewhat known as a bounty hunter. And with this talk of a golden disk, one that Ardur could use to even the playing field between commoner and mobster, has Ardur excited. This is one bounty that cannot be passed up.
Equipment:
Python Arsenal Modular 14.5mm Battle Rifle:-
Ardur uses the state of the art PA-19 Battle Rifle for most, if not all, situations. The gun itself is a recoil dampened, modular system that shifts between three modes. The first and most standard mode is that of a bullup-style battle rifle with a barrel length of just over 32 inches. The 14.5mm cartridge used provides more than enough stopping power, with the recoil of said round being handled by a "deject" style dampener that allows for full automatic fire while enabling the user some semblance of control. The second, and frequently used, module is the EBPA-19 modification kit that extends the barrel to allow for more accurate fire over range. The EBPA-19 extends the barrel of the gun to a length of just over 42 inches, while also providing a "stand alone" model smart bipod that deploys without the user's input. Included with this modification is the "Schmidt" optical kit that acts as the sights for the weapon; working with or without the EBPA-19 modification. Attached to the side of the main body of the gun, a 6.5-20x40 Wang zoom camera is mounted and provides the user a comprehensive and effective sight for the weapon. The zoom is on par with most Peacekeeper rifle modifications allowing the user to place a tight grouping at ranges of up to 500 yards. The gun sight works in conjunction with the contact lens provided that directly overlay the zoom, with the distance controls adjusted with the use of a companion implant in the fingers that allow the wielder total control over their weapon. The gun sight will, in normal use, show the user where, in real time, their gun barrel is aiming to better assist the user. The third module is less a overall and more of an addition, with two suppressors that fit either mode with ease. It's recommended to always use the suppressor as the PA-19 fired without it has been shown to cause hearing impairments when fired around unprotected ears.
Depending on the situation, the weapon can fire two separate types of rounds.
-PA-195 Armor-piercing Incendiary Anti-Material round.
Intended for use on hardned target, the PA-165 has a weight of 70 grams and a length of 58 millimeters long.
-PA-201 Armor-piercing incendiary tracer full metal jacket round with a steel core
Intended for use of 'soft' targets. The PA-201 has a weight of 59 grams and is 50 millimeters long.
Unknown Manufacturer - Cybernetic Arms -
His cybernetic arms are a little less impressive than most on the market. Not stronger, faster, or better connected than most designs, it's simplicity in function and use leaves little desire for Ardur to upgrade to a better model now that he has the funds to do so. He is strong enough to wield his weapon, fight off un-upgraded enemies, and fast enough to assist in hand to hand combat. Though those with more cybernetic implants, and better parts, will always beat him in that arena; forcing Ardur to keep with his gun to avoid those situations. His arms, are however, very resistant to most forms of munitions. He has not tested it's true resilience yet, out of a fear of damaging them outright, but he has seen a stray low caliber bullet fail at damaging it.
Ardur has attempted to I.D the manufacture of his cybernetic arms, but to date he has yet to match it to any known manufacturer.
Colt .45 caliber Service Pistol -
Standard pistol for generations, the Service pistol is a common to find and easy to maintain option for self-defense, and the occasional offense. While it lacks many of the modern features that newer platforms have, it's rugged charm and high-powered ammunition have meant that the Service is still capable in the right hands.
VC - assistant model:
Ardur has a semi-modern VC, or Virtual Companion, model installed in his home and office. The unit consists of an ear implant that allows the VC to communicate with the user, a software package that allows the VC to have access to what ever you grant it access to (finances, social media, etc,), as well as a choice of both voice and personality of the VC itself. Ardur chose the assistant model as it had more advanced features when it comes to running his finances. The assistant model can pay bills with security features that make it very hard for any outside party. The VC unfortunatly stays at home as the brains of it are rather bulky and not easy to transport.
Holo-gen Holotable:
Ardur has built a very powerful Holotable into the standard, regal looking oak desk in his office. By day, it looks like your standard oak desk with a very clean finish. At the press of a button, located on the left side of the desk, the sides collapse allowing the top to flip over and reveal the holotable itself. The table has numerous abilities that assist Ardur with both his lines of work. The table has the power to produce scaled down versions of locations, allowing Ardur to plan out his bounty strikes in advance. It also has the power to show, if connected, live feeds in real time in a three dimensional way that gives Ardur the ability to see a scene more clearly than a still or traditional video.
Other:
-Pack a day smoker
-Drinks whisky normally but anything will do in a pinch, even Something Else
-Something Else is an alcoholic drink that is awful
-Has a flask on him at all times
-While drunk, Ardur likes to listen to Classic Earth music.
Ardur tried to ready himself for what was coming for him, and he knew in his mind he was never going to be. It was twelve thirty in the afternoon as a bright, sunlit sky illuminated the office portion of his apartment. His apartment was originally like your standard Arcadia style two room set, with the main door being connected to a living area (in this case his office) that was also connected, via a hallway, to two separate rooms; one being his living area while the second is his bed room; though, he frequently gets the two mixed up at night. His office was well kept with a regal but polished oak desk situated on the far side of the room just in front of a large, single pane, window that provided sufficient natural light for his office during the day time when he was open. His floor was clean and polished while the walls were adorned with both modern and reproduction classic art from the early two-thousan's on Earth. This “job” as he calls it is a simple one, people would go missing or they would have something priceless stolen from them and Ardur would consider helping them locate them. Consider, a loose word, as he is very strict when it comes to the clientele that he chooses to serve. His rules were simple, if either the client or the potential missing person belonged to a gang he would refuse them. If either the client or the potential missing person was currently wanted for murder, rape, kidnapping as well as various other serious charges, he would not help them. If both the client and the potential missing person was of good moral standing, but could not pay Ardur's fee, he would work the case for free if he felt he could complete it.
Simple rules for a simple business. Sure, Ardur was forced to constantly carry his pistol in his office just in case some unruly mobster got offended that he couldn’t hire him.
Today wasn’t simple, however. Today was scary. The bright sky that illuminated his office had already caused a splitting headache to form in his hungover mind, and a distant pounding that drew closer every second did not help it’s cause. To make matters even worse, he had misplaced his normal hangover cure, the “hang-OVER” pill that he takes every morning after yet another heavy night of drinking and was forced to use an older, cruder, hangover cure, the “Pain-Away Anti-Hangover Smoothie”. It’s not just the taste that Ardur hated, though the fact that they had the audacity to label it a smoothie and not something more accurate like “tar” or “sewage water” for the sludge like consistency and taste that it had, he hated how long it took to work. Already, fifteen minutes into the day and he still felt the throbbing pressure building in his head as thirst for more and more water plagued his mind like a rabid infestation of mice plagues a crop field. This was problematic as his first client, a young lady whose brother went missing a few days prior, who mind you was scheduled to arrive at one-o'clock, had arrived thirty minutes early.
She knocked on the door every..other...minute, each pound of what Ardur assumed was either pure muscle or a cybernetic implant pulled on a press that was growing tighter, and tighter, and tighter, around his brain before he was left with little option but to answer the door; or face the splitting migraine that was threatening to spiral out of control. As Ardur threw the door open, he was brought face to face with the enclosed fist of his client, nearly finishing yet another crude knock on the door with her armored cybernetic implant. The girl had, thankfully, stopped the momentum of her arm just inches in front of Ardur’s face.
“Can I help you,” Ardur asked coldly as he slowly shifted his eyes from the fist, to the young woman’s eyes. Though she did not accept the eye contact, and shifted her gaze to the floor as her hands came together.
“Yes, I am your one o’clock apoint-” She started.
“I know,” Ardur interrupted, “how can I help you right no-*hiccup* right now?” Ardur finished as he used his hand to shield his eyes from the somehow brighter lights of his apartment's hallway.
“I thought we could meet earlier, as my matter is very ur-” She started.
“And my hours are how they are for a reason,” Ardur paused, “I’ll be ready here soon enough, take a seat right there,” he said as he gestured to a simple wooden stool that sat right next to the door frame, “and I’ll be ready for you when I am ready,” he said as he quickly pulled himself back into the office and locked the door behind him. He dealt with that a lot. He walked slowly, and with a bit of a stutter step here and there, across the room and sat down at his desk. He looked around and examined the familiar scene in front of him, and reflected on the glory days of his private investigator business.
Once upon a time his office was open from eight in the morning until he decided to close down at night. Simpler times, for a simpler Ardur. While he was always a heavy drinker, the pills and his focus on doing a good job always helped him weather the storm in those early years. He had clients lined up at the crack of dawn, hoping that he could be the savior that the Peacekeepers weren't. While he was good at what he did, he refused more clients than he accepted, and those that he did accept were often enough not able to pay the bills. After running behind on his rent for the third time in four months, and a threat of eviction, Ardur had to change his lifestyle for the better. He did that by using his other skills by becoming a bounty hunter. His method was simple, he would find a number of scum-bags wanted on a Dead or Alive bounty, and bag them at range and tag them with the PA-195's on-board camera system that was sufficient enough in the eyes of the peacekeepers. Though that meant he had to stay out late. That also meant he stayed up later drinking. He quickly realized that even with the hangover cure, he was not very effective running on just a few hours' worth of sleep. That’s why he opens later now. He knows his weakness.
And he knows when the hangover cure, as bad as it may be in comparison, starts to take hold. The pained fangs of dehydration are gently soothed away by warm, angelic like, streams of chemicals and other overly-engineered means of curing a simple problem fast. The intense weights placed on his minds are lifted, and thrown aside to allow normal mind functions to resume. And most of all, his focus returned. “Cybernetic arm, seemed decades old and in a state of disrepair, grease and mud stains on hands, head and clothes,” he paused his thought for a second, “mechanic? Unlikely but a scavenger more so,” he paused again as he let out a small chuckle, “not getting paid if I accept this one,” he whispered.
That was alright for Ardur. Last night he bagged a big bounty and had plenty of money to waste before he needed another one.
Simple rules for a simple business. Sure, Ardur was forced to constantly carry his pistol in his office just in case some unruly mobster got offended that he couldn’t hire him.
Today wasn’t simple, however. Today was scary. The bright sky that illuminated his office had already caused a splitting headache to form in his hungover mind, and a distant pounding that drew closer every second did not help it’s cause. To make matters even worse, he had misplaced his normal hangover cure, the “hang-OVER” pill that he takes every morning after yet another heavy night of drinking and was forced to use an older, cruder, hangover cure, the “Pain-Away Anti-Hangover Smoothie”. It’s not just the taste that Ardur hated, though the fact that they had the audacity to label it a smoothie and not something more accurate like “tar” or “sewage water” for the sludge like consistency and taste that it had, he hated how long it took to work. Already, fifteen minutes into the day and he still felt the throbbing pressure building in his head as thirst for more and more water plagued his mind like a rabid infestation of mice plagues a crop field. This was problematic as his first client, a young lady whose brother went missing a few days prior, who mind you was scheduled to arrive at one-o'clock, had arrived thirty minutes early.
She knocked on the door every..other...minute, each pound of what Ardur assumed was either pure muscle or a cybernetic implant pulled on a press that was growing tighter, and tighter, and tighter, around his brain before he was left with little option but to answer the door; or face the splitting migraine that was threatening to spiral out of control. As Ardur threw the door open, he was brought face to face with the enclosed fist of his client, nearly finishing yet another crude knock on the door with her armored cybernetic implant. The girl had, thankfully, stopped the momentum of her arm just inches in front of Ardur’s face.
“Can I help you,” Ardur asked coldly as he slowly shifted his eyes from the fist, to the young woman’s eyes. Though she did not accept the eye contact, and shifted her gaze to the floor as her hands came together.
“Yes, I am your one o’clock apoint-” She started.
“I know,” Ardur interrupted, “how can I help you right no-*hiccup* right now?” Ardur finished as he used his hand to shield his eyes from the somehow brighter lights of his apartment's hallway.
“I thought we could meet earlier, as my matter is very ur-” She started.
“And my hours are how they are for a reason,” Ardur paused, “I’ll be ready here soon enough, take a seat right there,” he said as he gestured to a simple wooden stool that sat right next to the door frame, “and I’ll be ready for you when I am ready,” he said as he quickly pulled himself back into the office and locked the door behind him. He dealt with that a lot. He walked slowly, and with a bit of a stutter step here and there, across the room and sat down at his desk. He looked around and examined the familiar scene in front of him, and reflected on the glory days of his private investigator business.
Once upon a time his office was open from eight in the morning until he decided to close down at night. Simpler times, for a simpler Ardur. While he was always a heavy drinker, the pills and his focus on doing a good job always helped him weather the storm in those early years. He had clients lined up at the crack of dawn, hoping that he could be the savior that the Peacekeepers weren't. While he was good at what he did, he refused more clients than he accepted, and those that he did accept were often enough not able to pay the bills. After running behind on his rent for the third time in four months, and a threat of eviction, Ardur had to change his lifestyle for the better. He did that by using his other skills by becoming a bounty hunter. His method was simple, he would find a number of scum-bags wanted on a Dead or Alive bounty, and bag them at range and tag them with the PA-195's on-board camera system that was sufficient enough in the eyes of the peacekeepers. Though that meant he had to stay out late. That also meant he stayed up later drinking. He quickly realized that even with the hangover cure, he was not very effective running on just a few hours' worth of sleep. That’s why he opens later now. He knows his weakness.
And he knows when the hangover cure, as bad as it may be in comparison, starts to take hold. The pained fangs of dehydration are gently soothed away by warm, angelic like, streams of chemicals and other overly-engineered means of curing a simple problem fast. The intense weights placed on his minds are lifted, and thrown aside to allow normal mind functions to resume. And most of all, his focus returned. “Cybernetic arm, seemed decades old and in a state of disrepair, grease and mud stains on hands, head and clothes,” he paused his thought for a second, “mechanic? Unlikely but a scavenger more so,” he paused again as he let out a small chuckle, “not getting paid if I accept this one,” he whispered.
That was alright for Ardur. Last night he bagged a big bounty and had plenty of money to waste before he needed another one.
