Post by Kynikos on Jul 31, 2017 16:38:16 GMT -4
Name - Samuel du Nord
Age- late 20s
Physical Description - A brown-haired, green-eyed, thin individual with terrible scars, a broken nose, and an obvious prosthesis for his left leg.
Location - Slums
Start - Connections
Perk - (???) Crippled Bio-mechanic: A combination doctor, surgeon, and tinkerer, I used to make prosthesis's and augments for the rich and well-to-do. I'm the best - if someone has the resources, I can rig up just about anything or stop anyone, no matter how grievously injured, from dying. The one surgery I ever botched was performed on a mob boss, and it cost me nearly everything - including my life. Luckily, his goons only beat me within an inch of death when I was able to promise them my entire fortune. This saved my life, but now I'm penniless and lost a lot of my standing and connections (though I have a precious few left). In addition, I'm scarred and crippled for life. I had to have a leg amputated, and my jury-rigged prosthesis leaves me at a real disadvantage when it comes to physical activity. The only way to go is up - I can't go any further down save by being dead. Now I do what I've always done - save for much less and with not nearly as much artistry. Maybe someday I'll taste riches again, but until then...
It seemed like, for a moment at least, that the slums would weather the storm better then ever before. Gangs quickly stormed stores and set about conserving and rationing the food out to the ones inside their territory. People were finally secure and fed for the one time in their life. The crisis was what the downtrodden people were waiting for. And then, perhaps what everyone should have realised was coming, was the bloodiest night. Gangs went at each other for days, succumbing to utter chaos. Fire rained constantly through the night and to the day until they finally pulled back. Several gangs were wiped off altogether, others limped back, leaving some territory totally unprotected. Only a few managed to protect more people afterwards. You were among the most unfortunate - caught between three gangs during the fighting and surviving only by sheer luck and coincidence. Afterwards when the blood dried, you remained at the tense standoff between two gangs, occasionally escalating in violence throughout the day.
Then, just yesterday, some infection started rapidly spreading through the weakened slums. You were one of the lucky ones - your old days made sure you had a mask to protect yourself with. The rest weren't so lucky. Now, it seems, that it is time to leave the slums altogether. Anywhere would have to be better then this.
Your old shack doesn't have much in the way of worthwhile equipment. A toolkit along with a large backpack rest in a corner, next to your shotgun. You've had that shotgun for a while and it's let you down multiple times. Still, it's more then most people have. It's a double barrel one and you've still got ten shells for it. You've made four packs of food from your remaining supplies, ready to be taken to travel. A single water bottle remains on the table, one of the many ways you were unlucky. Someone got in and took off with most of your water and running water shut off days ago. Your wallet, a face mask, gloves, and a set of clothing with long pants and a long shirt have also been set aside. One 15 foot stretch of rope lies strung around your only chair in the shack. That's all you have going out into the world. It'll have to do.
Finally, the gangs wear a taped on symbol to identify each other on the back of their shirt. An X means you are with the gang to the north and a Z means you are part of the gang to the south. You do have one roll of duct tape to make this symbol. Otherwise, to the left or right, the streets are filled with corpses and you're pretty sure that's what's spreading the disease. You are better prepared then most if you were going to chance it.
Age- late 20s
Physical Description - A brown-haired, green-eyed, thin individual with terrible scars, a broken nose, and an obvious prosthesis for his left leg.
Location - Slums
Start - Connections
Perk - (???) Crippled Bio-mechanic: A combination doctor, surgeon, and tinkerer, I used to make prosthesis's and augments for the rich and well-to-do. I'm the best - if someone has the resources, I can rig up just about anything or stop anyone, no matter how grievously injured, from dying. The one surgery I ever botched was performed on a mob boss, and it cost me nearly everything - including my life. Luckily, his goons only beat me within an inch of death when I was able to promise them my entire fortune. This saved my life, but now I'm penniless and lost a lot of my standing and connections (though I have a precious few left). In addition, I'm scarred and crippled for life. I had to have a leg amputated, and my jury-rigged prosthesis leaves me at a real disadvantage when it comes to physical activity. The only way to go is up - I can't go any further down save by being dead. Now I do what I've always done - save for much less and with not nearly as much artistry. Maybe someday I'll taste riches again, but until then...
It seemed like, for a moment at least, that the slums would weather the storm better then ever before. Gangs quickly stormed stores and set about conserving and rationing the food out to the ones inside their territory. People were finally secure and fed for the one time in their life. The crisis was what the downtrodden people were waiting for. And then, perhaps what everyone should have realised was coming, was the bloodiest night. Gangs went at each other for days, succumbing to utter chaos. Fire rained constantly through the night and to the day until they finally pulled back. Several gangs were wiped off altogether, others limped back, leaving some territory totally unprotected. Only a few managed to protect more people afterwards. You were among the most unfortunate - caught between three gangs during the fighting and surviving only by sheer luck and coincidence. Afterwards when the blood dried, you remained at the tense standoff between two gangs, occasionally escalating in violence throughout the day.
Then, just yesterday, some infection started rapidly spreading through the weakened slums. You were one of the lucky ones - your old days made sure you had a mask to protect yourself with. The rest weren't so lucky. Now, it seems, that it is time to leave the slums altogether. Anywhere would have to be better then this.
Your old shack doesn't have much in the way of worthwhile equipment. A toolkit along with a large backpack rest in a corner, next to your shotgun. You've had that shotgun for a while and it's let you down multiple times. Still, it's more then most people have. It's a double barrel one and you've still got ten shells for it. You've made four packs of food from your remaining supplies, ready to be taken to travel. A single water bottle remains on the table, one of the many ways you were unlucky. Someone got in and took off with most of your water and running water shut off days ago. Your wallet, a face mask, gloves, and a set of clothing with long pants and a long shirt have also been set aside. One 15 foot stretch of rope lies strung around your only chair in the shack. That's all you have going out into the world. It'll have to do.
Finally, the gangs wear a taped on symbol to identify each other on the back of their shirt. An X means you are with the gang to the north and a Z means you are part of the gang to the south. You do have one roll of duct tape to make this symbol. Otherwise, to the left or right, the streets are filled with corpses and you're pretty sure that's what's spreading the disease. You are better prepared then most if you were going to chance it.
