Futuristic Horseshoes & Ion Grenades - CS Thread

[Solar Daddy]

CHARACTER RULES
This is a sci-fi western roleplay. We highly recommend making your character somewhat western-y, if possible. Check the GM and Co GM Character Sheets for references.
Cyborgs, AI, Androids etc. are all allowed for your OC, but look into the lore regarding such beings before getting too committed on your CS (Lore posts will be added soon).
Your human can be biologically altered! Just nothing OP. Ex. You want gold-toned eyes? Cool! You want them to be able to see in pure darkness? Probably okay, but message the GM.
You want a tragic backstory, GO FOR IT, but don’t make it intersect with another player’s backstory unless you talk with them, and us, first.
NO characters under the age of 21.
Use the format for CS provided.
See the game rules in the interest check before posting. By posting, you agree to these rules.
Your CS may be rejected for any reason the GM and Co-GM deem reasonable. We don’t have to let you modify it if we do not wish to.
This is a high-interaction RP. Make your character interactable. If it is a character that will spend all day in the corner of their room, they will not see much interaction and will probably barely be active in the roleplay. If this is how we read your CS, we will ask you to change it.
Check GM and Co-GM character sheets for guidance if needed.
Bottom line, if you have any questions or concerns, DM me, Solar Daddy , or Dragongal , the Co-GM for details.

Link to the interest check: Futuristic - Horseshoes and Ion Grenades


CS Template:

NAME
Nickname




APPEARANCE
(Two pictures - one of the whole person, one of the face)





Species: (robot, human)
Age:
Weight:
Height:

PERSONALITY
(minimum 1 paragraph)

Positive traits
(at least 3)

Negative Traits
(at least 3)

SKILLS
(preferably at least 3 skills with descriptions)


EQUIPMENT


BACKSTORY
(at least 2 paragraphs minimum)​

 

[Solar Daddy]

Salvo

Salvo
The Red Sheriff




APPEARANCE
(Two pictures - one of the whole person, one of the face)

Species: Robot, A.I.
Age: (?) years since built
19 years operational
Weight: 350lbs
Height: 6'0"

PERSONALITY
Salvo is known for being quick to action and is often the envy of others for his cunning. Salvo had long been one of those AI you couldn’t seem to stick a bullet to. His personality is that of a cynical lowlife with high conviction. He doesn’t lose any sleep over the things he’s done, but he’s aware of the trouble he often gets himself into with his actions. Salvo bears the distant memories of a human once too bold to be taken down. He’d survived endless Hellfire (for now) by being dumped into a metal shell, and Salvo wasn’t about to waste it living a boring life.

Positive traits
Charming
Convicted
Unwavering

Negative Traits
Overly bold
Mostly uncaring
“Sacrifice the few” mentality

SKILLS
Gunslinger
Salvo’s chassis was built for deadeye accuracy, though the age of his model makes his expert skill less sharp. However, his ability to hit targets with a repeater is still deadly to anyone in range. He’s not too bad with a six shooter, either.

Superior Might
Salvo’s superior metal alloys as a replacement for flesh make him able to withstand a good amount of punishment. He’s built to last and doesn’t get knocked down easily. His chassis is good at dealing out punches as well as prying open doors. Not being human means Salvo doesn’t need oxygen and doesn’t have to deal with radiation problems in space or on a planet’s surface.

Experience on the Job
Salvo had been a sheriff for years now and racked up enough experience in the field to bolster his survival capabilities. Salvo is used to the daily actions required for the vigorous jobs necessary and is a capable leader to those that need guidance in the moment.


EQUIPMENT
Lever Action Repeater
Revolver
(3x) RigidCuffs™
Datapad with secure link to Governmental servers
Lucky cowboy hat

BACKSTORY
Salvo can’t recall the majority of his former life as a human. He recognizes he’s made mistakes, learned from them, and spent a good chunk of his life on the wrong side of the law. However, anything he remembers is in the form of muscle memory. He can’t directly recall anything from his past, before his time as a construct. Every now and then, in stressful moments or in deep reflection, Salvo will get glimpses into his own past. He’s not sure he likes who he was, or who he is now, but it’s the cards he’s been dealt. His biggest question; is his personality just a construct, something written onto a hard drive to be given to any chassis that needed one? Or was he a singular model, with a direct purpose of being a copied personality? He hopes getting in good with the authorities can help provide him with the right resources to discover what he needs. Finding out who he was is one of the only reasons he bothers with a job at all.

Salvo booted up in a scrap yard on Venus, not sure what was happening. It took nearly two days to learn how to control his limbs of metal and rust. He had no recollection of who he was, where he was, or how he got there. Salvo, not even sure of his own name, looked for anything he could hold on to that could ground him in reality as he tried to understand his situation. The sticker attached to his chassis, just barely in sight, was an old, worn out label marking him as “salvage only.” Due to time, some letters wore off, leaving Salvo with his newfound name. What else would he call himself? Greg? Not a chance.

He learned to walk, and control his robotic flesh over time, eventually being able to make it out of the landfill. It took another week for him to learn how to speak. He wasn’t much more than another android in the busy streets of a Venusan mega city, akin to a drunkard outside a bar. Most didn’t pay him any mind, leaving him to search helplessly for an understanding of what his life meant.

Through a few loose connections, he found a robotic practitioner who helped piece together bits of his past, and how he got to the landfill without his memories. With more understanding of how his chassis worked, he took to the stars, partaking in odd jobs and doing as much research as he could in his free time. However, it didn’t take long for Salvo to reach a dead end, and with nowhere else to look, he decided to head out to the wilds of the solar system. Mostly in a desperate hope of finding peace, or maybe answers, Salvo knew one thing from his past life that kept showing up; he lived his life out in the stars. He knew the cities of the developed worlds weren’t for him - but neither was farming life, or herding cattle. No, Salvo had a knack for gunslinging and he wanted to make the most of it.

Salvo joined up with the federal government’s Deputy program, and scoured the far reaches of humanity for outlaws, bandits and lowlifes. It was a good way to keep him entertained while periodically getting leave to look into his past. It wasn’t until his Sheriff died in a gunfight that Salvo realized he wasn’t averse to a raise and promotion. More money, more influence on where his posse went, more chances to discover what the hell was going on with his past.

And also more chances to earn a new name for himself in the wilds.​

 

[Dragongal]

Everett Warren
Detective

APPEARANCE

Everett is more worn than in the picture - his once raven hair is now lightly peppered with bits of early gray from stress. He’s typically fairly well-dressed, with his signature trench coat having metal plates along the left arm and side. He wears the semi-formal clothes most of the time as it gives an air of authority that tends to come in handy in his experience - especially when running across other System officers of rank. Also, by taking off the trench coat and making minor adjustments, he can easily look like he didn’t just step back in from the worst crime scene this side of the milky way. He wears heavy boots for the varying terrains he gets himself stuck in, and if they’re going into something dangerous, he’ll pull on a kevlar vest.

Species: 100% human
Age: 32
Weight: 180
Height: 6’3”

PERSONALITY
He might come off as a jackass, and while he is, Everett is also the first to pull someone aside and check that they’re okay. He notices everything no matter how small, which can help him to pick up lies and secrets, even the innocent kind. He firmly believes that nobody should be forgotten like an abandoned cold case. His experience as a detective is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, he can be a charismatic con-man who works well with groups. On the other hand, though, he’s developed some poor coping habits for the constant stress of the job. These include some OCD-like tendencies and alcohol abuse depending on the level of stress. Most of the time he can keep his dysfunctional habits private and hidden. His most common one is going days on minimal sleep or less while working on time-sensitive cases. He also keeps multiple files of every unsolved case, each file increasingly detailed - and correspondingly increasingly coded.

Positive Traits
Observant
Charming
Works well in teams when needed

Negative Traits
Stressed
Snarky
Little sense of self-preservation

SKILLS

Subtle Interrogator
Always the charmer, Everett is quick to strike up conversation and get people talking. If he’s lucky, he can convince people to address him as a friend.

Keen Eye
Everett’s main skill is noticing things. He notices excessively tiny details constantly, but this can become overwhelming at times. He also has been known to be so distracted by a theory running through his head that he just walks away from his group to examine a piece of evidence.

Experience
Everett has been solving murders and missing person’s cases for over 10 years. He holds a record number of cold cases solved, and specializes in missing persons cases. He has to work with kids more often than he likes, and he's surprisingly good at it. His experience has given him some solid experience in legal matters. He’s incredibly observant, and quick to see connections that may be intentionally hidden. This also means he is very good at hiding things himself.


EQUIPMENT

Protective Trench Coat
Gas-Powered Semi-Automatic Handgun
Sliver - A robotic bloodhound trained to respond to Everett's commands. It's relatively smart on its own, but not an AI.
Break action single shot shotgun (Emergency use)
Kevlar Vest
Custom Locked Datapad
(2x) RigidCuffs

BACKSTORY
Everett was born on Mars. His father was a lawyer, and his mother is still an information officer for the government. His family was relatively happy, and Everett had planned on training AI dogs for police use until he was 14 and tragedy struck, leading him to decide to become a homicide detective. With all his wit and spite, it was enough to pass all of the tests with flying colors, in spite of any tolls the stress would take on him.
As a top candidate, Everett got to skip the modern 7+ years as a police officer. At 18, he joined the System’s homicide detective training program, a rigorous accelerated training program designed to produce the best detectives for the System. He passed with flying colors and a bit of cheating, and quickly earned a name for himself - both for his skill at cracking cold cases, and for disregarding orders. As a PI hired by the System, he’s allowed to take cases that the System doesn’t - but when they send him somewhere, he has to go. And hey, he’s jumped from Earth to the moon to Mars to Jupiter - there’s got to be lots of lost people out in the farthest reaches of the system.​

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

WIP​

Central operation response engine
C.O.R.E

APPEARANCE

Hologram humaniod projection above




Species: Ai construct
Age: unknow maybe a few hundred years?
Weight: a few tons
Height: ten meters (his core that is)

PERSONALITY
Core personality these days is that of a worried fellow decommissioning did a number on his self confidence now constantly doubting himself he feels like he's worthless and doesn't know why he was decommissioned but, his core Directives push him to keep trying to uphold the law and fond out what happend to him leaving core in a wierd position of wanting to quit but he can't

Positive traits
Encourages others
Fairly wise (just on history stuff)
Good listener
Negative Traits
Cowardly
Lacks self confidence
Self destructive mindset
SKILLS
Long memory- being a huge ancient AI has its perks such as long memory
Machine override- with some time and effort, core can take over tech that isn't inheritly part of his network or relink old bots, newer technologies arnt compatible tho and he can't take them over.
Multi tasking- basically he was designed to do hundreds of things at once

EQUIPMENT
Big ironsx15- old combat/law enforcement bots used by core to get around.

BACKSTORY
C.O.R.E’s story is a long one, and if anything has affected many places greatly. For core’s original purpose was to serve as planets centralised fully autonomous drone based law enforcement system originally consisting of three classes of drone the tiny hat like hovering “deitos” designed for small arrests and surveillance, hulking walking tanks knowns a thumper only brought out if a extreme show of force or quelling some rebellion was needed. And the ubiquitous “Big iron’s” creepy hound like drones that stalked the landscapes of Pluto and preformed most laws enforcement tasks The system worked wonders for a time till complains about the inhuman nature of the big irons, new smaller humanoid robots called deps where added an eclectic mix of combat bots that where well armed but able to act rather human and fit into human places. Still complains continued and most bots where retrofitted with hologram projectors to Give CORE a true human “figure” to work act as its representative. Whatever happened after that is a mystery but Core along with its drones where decommissioned eventually it’s main body a titanic building sized fort/server now lays buried somewhere in the wastes of some frontier and dotting the landscape buried by time and dust collections of hundreds of drones mostly big irons lay dormant and wasting away thier resilient alloy weapons and components all highly prized enough that their are those known as drone prospectors that spend thier lives searching for these dumps to disassemble refurbish and sell parts or even repurposed drones. All look for some legendary find or even CORE’s central command structure.



What of Core itself? The once proud and confident AI after many years left dormant and just alone along with its decline to obsolesces that even it doesn’t really understand . Has left it paranoid and unsure of itself. Managing to restablish connections with a few Big irons somehow. Now it’s goals are simple. 1) find its body 2) find out what actually happened to themselves 3) continue preform it’s duties.. even if it doesn’t think it can. Afterall the worlds seemed to move on well without core.. do they reall still need them around?

 

[Kabboom]

NAME | Billiam W. Teomothy VIII
Nickname | Billy, Big-Iron, Big-Iron Billy, Billy Bob

APPEARANCE |||




Species: Human (cyborg)
Age: 24
Weight: 189lbs
Height: 6'2 with "horn", 6'0 naturally

PERSONALITY
Billiam is very optimistic and down-to-earth, and is also first to volunteer for everything, even if he had no idea what that thing entailed. First to wake in the morning, and not one to hesitate from a little (or a lot of) manual labor, Billy's always got his head firing on all cylinders. His enthusiasm has its limits though, and where his happy-go-lucky mannerisms can't help him, his feisty disposition aids him in fights and altercations of all kinds. He's got a very rudimentary sense of right and wrong, and he acts according to those senses most of the time; in times where those senses don't apply, he can be found being absolutely perplexed by everything and trying to stumble through it, often unsuccessfully.

Positive traits
- Optimistic
- Persistent
- Pep talk enthusiast
- Team player

Negative Traits
- Uneducated
- Cocky
- Lack of experience
- Stubborn
- No sense of subtlety
- Simplistic

SKILLS
- Quick Draw - fast hands for the big iron.
- Basic Mechanic Skills - that cyborg hand is self-crafted after all. Self-taught, Billiam can work most mechanical scrap materials to his favor, as long as it doesn't require advanced coding or anything too energy-related, like shielding or whatever.
- Improvisation Under Pressure - thinking on the fly, Billiam will try his damnedest to McGyver something together to get himself out of any harm he finds himself in.
- Fuckin' Robot Arm, Dude - Billiam's got a robot arm. That's a skill... right?

EQUIPMENT
- Homemade robotic left arm, complete with hydraulics and claw fingers. 'Forearm' section has compartments for extra tools.
- KR60 'Lemat II' Double Revolver / "Big Iron": Discontinued for impractical reasons, Billiam found this fixer-upper while scrapping stuff. Brought up to snuff with a cannibalized single-shot plasma launcher replacing the lower "revolver".

- Scrap Metal Body Armor: Made of scrap metal, serves as body armor. Not very effective against your rootin' tootin' marshal long guns, but good enough to stop a scrap junker's cobbled-up peashooter.

BACKSTORY
Working as a scrapper in Martian junkyards since as far back as he can recall, Billiam was a family man: everywhere he looked, he was surrounded by family. The Teomothy family was abundant in numbers but lacking in accumulative wealth, leading to the boys frequenting junkyards and sweatshops, while the girls frequent the scrap markets to secure a spot to sell junkyard loot. The runt of the litter, being the 8th child to be named after their father Billiam, he found himself being under the special care of his sweet mama, Bama-Deen. Bama-Deen taught him the essentials of life in this universe, classics such as: treat others like they treat you, shoot first if a stranger squints at you angrily, treat a lady right, never dig a bomb out with a shovel, etc. He didn't follow that bomb-shovel one very closely, because he struck a "decommissioned" missile with his shovel and it exploded in his face and gave him his attractive 'horn' lodged in his left forehead, narrowly missing the important bits. Regardless, he soldiered on - there is no room for a rest in the Martian junkyards, since scrap is worth its weight in gold if you find the right stuff, and there's many a shooter in the wastes ready and rearing to deep six a fellow man if it meant bagging an extra loose screw.

Luck struck him in the ass one day, during a particularly heated shootout in a dust storm. Some no-good scrappers were trying to do some 'pre-emptive salvage' on a prospectin' ship owner refueling near Billiam's junkyard, and Big Iron Billy just had to join the fray, testing out his new six-shooter with the finishing touches laid on it. Fifteen shots later, the fight was settled and the ship owner offered a seat on his ship while Billiam waits out the storm. The prospectin' feller took an interest in Billy's dead-eyed aim and offered him a job as a personal bodyguard on the ship - with permission from Bama-Deen and a promise that he'll send money back to her, off went Billiam to the stars. The work paid well - until the ship blew up while he was stationside. With his employer and place of employ gone in one fell swoop, Billy Tim did what anyone would do: immediately look for bounty hunter postings. Bama-Deen will get her money - Momma raised him, now he's gonna return the favor.

 

[fickleglory]

NAME: Cassie Nova
Nickname: The Wraith




APPEARANCE

Species: Human
Age: 26 years
Weight: 164
Height: 6’ 0’’

PERSONALITY
If you were only allowed to describe this woman with one word, it would be intrusive. Don’t let her eyes deceive you, it’s what her ears focus on that's your true concern. Despite knowing everyone’s secret, Cass can lack the awareness to shut her howling trap. Perhaps her intention is to manipulate her opponent to believe if she did know anything, it would’ve slipped by now. Nonetheless her strides express confidence and demand for eyes. If she adjusts your step, it's as if no one is there.

She may be far from home, but the residue of her old lifestyle can give her away. Cass isn’t shy to stick her nose up when something is below her.

Positive traits
Quite on her feet
Pretty Privilege
In-the-know

Negative Traits
Self-centered
Judgmental
Sheltered

SKILLS
Tinker: She’s no secret agent, but she always attempts to seek knowledge. She’s technically skilled in small gadgets. The type to be right under your nose.

Shadow: Her boots are lined with rubber soles. She doesn’t need to announce her presence with the click of her heels, you'll see her when she wants you to.

Dirt: Everyone has something to hide and she’ll always seek to find it. It’s wondrous how this girl isn’t in the black mailing business.


EQUIPMENT
Red satin bandana, black when it's reversed
Ladies’ compact with powder, blush, and lipstick
Rubber lined boots
Hard Drive eye
Belt pouch
Ammo pouch: 25x rounds
Tinker Tools: for delicate, gadget work
Gadgets: 3x Communication earpieces, 2x button cameras
Diary, ink, and pen
Primary: SImilar to Henry Axe- Lever action

BACKSTORY
"But the Solar System is so big, would anyone really know who little ol' me would be?"

The Golden Girl of a large city on Earth. Her life is cushioned and luxurious. Born into a powerful militant family she's also the daughter under someone with a good range of wealth and connections. She's pursued an easy career in law enforcement.

Many benefits came with the Meray name. It is trusted, respected, and praised by default. It made them more gullible to her pretty prying peepers. Everyone had something to hide... Slowly she developed a hunger for intelligence and invested into her hobby of gadgets. Things that go unnoticed, buttons, rings, even a teddy bear played as her eyes and ears.

Nothing would prepare her for the corruption within the system. Files upon files of it. Even of her own father. To her dismay, she has made her more than a bargaining chip now. Her head could reveal the best kept secrets to criminals across the System.

Expected to be studying abroad she had made her decision to leave home. She has re-branded herself under the alias of Cassie Nova. (Sounds more like a stripper's name, but whatever.) With papers and passports, even a file in the system, she can prove her identity. (Not sure how she got away with that.) Jet black hair, blue contacts made her akin to Deborah Marey. But Deborah had gone missing a few years ago. Her things were found in a gutter, blood and hair found at the scene. No cameras, no leads, the tracking device in her arm found miles from her luggage.

In that time she intermingled with other law enforcement while climbing the ladder of favoritism. Invading more and more privacy. Amassing a ridiculous amount of information. In her time in law enforcement Nova's skills were focused in tinkering and sneaking. Shoot outs became less her thing after losing an eye. A fine replacement came to not only expand her memory, but hold proof of what existed.

Now she is offered a task far out of her comfort zone. Nothing could prepare her for Deadweight.

 

[0stinato]

Name: Moscur Alir

Nickname: Mos, Del

---

APPEARANCE

Excuse the lack of western-style attire; been advised to have long-sleeved shirts and actual trousers (ie, not shorts). But I can’t draw all that rn, I’m going off old art.

Species: Human

Age: 28

Weight: 135lb (60kg)

Height: 5’8” (173cm)

---

PERSONALITY

‘He grew into his duties on the farm an’, to his credit, didn’t make a fuss when Tobor left. He’s become a mature young man - well, he’s not as young as I always think of him as, but perhaps that’s just because I’m his mom! - an’ all I can say is I’m glad he’s goin’ where he reckons he ought to go. I jus’ don’t wanna be called up by the sheriffs and asked to come down to identify a body one day. That thought scares the hell outta me.’ - Agina Alir, mother

‘Ah’ve got a folder in ma office jes’ for his papers. Ah make sure to print ‘em off. He don’t always tell me when he’s gettin’ one published though, so sometimes ah gotta bully ‘im for the information.’ - Rigad Alir, father

‘He would try to play my guitar even when I told him not to. I kept asking for my own room because he kept touching my stuff, but dad wouldn’t let me move to the spare room. I got so mad at him when I went upstairs and found him taking the needle of my record player apart.’ - Tobor Alir, brother

‘I love my little brothers so much. I didn’t think I even wanted a relationship when I was younger, but as soon as my little brothers came along I realised that, one day, I really want kids, I really want my own family ranch. Though… I’d have to hire someone to slaughter th’ animals ‘cause I just can’t do that.’ - Del himself


Positive traits

- Cute

- VERY cute
- Dedicated to his craft. In the same way that gym rats are focused on their sets, reps and how long til their next gym sesh, Del is similarly obsessive about his vocation. He’s been known to draw blueprints on beer-stained tables with chalk during social outings.

- A friendly stranger. Del has his defences to be sure, knowing that trusting everyone will only get you thrown into the dust, and maybe kicked a few times, but he’s gregarious, friendly and intelligent.

- Able to work on many different types of tech. From vehicles to weapons to robotics, Del has at least some affiliation and experience with all of them. Though he likes some things more than others.

- ‘Past the redline’ - Pushes things (items, vehicles, etc) past their capacity sometimes. This can result in more use being gained from them, but at the expense of the durability and safety of the item.


Negative Traits

- Not great with animals. He has a great love for them but they don’t seem to like him much, at least not when they first meet him. They can probably sense he’s nervous or something, or maybe it’s just his god-given birthwrong to be terrible with animals. The only animals that liked him upon first meeting him was Bettie, the old goat on the ranch, and his horse Big Tug, who’s a very bold personality for a horse.

- A bit of a coward. Although he no longer flinches at gunshots, since he has worked on and tested guns, he would rather not be directly involved in a fight. But his skills and morals push him into bounty hunting. He also likes to travel.

- A horrific and constant danger to himself and others. Despite the cowardice, he has no qualms at all about testing prototypes or designing dangerous (and, on several occasions, very illegal) tech. He’s daring in all the wrong ways and has had to destroy blueprints in the past for fear of the ol’ sheriffs getting wind of them.

- Really enjoys several good, strong drinks at the saloon, most evenings. Sometimes to excess.

---

SKILLS

- Engineering. Del has been working on tech since he was a lad. His parents own a cattle ranch on Rhea and, due to the family being the only workers, his mother set up a lot of experimental tech to automate certain jobs. Del learned to love engineering from his maintenance of these machines, getting his arms scratched up from the rust some of them ended up accessorised with.

- Explosives. Building off his Engineering ability, Del has some decent proficiency with explosives. Knowing he wasn’t suited for shoot-outs or quickdraws, Del decided to dabble in something that he considers more controlled. Unlike a gun, which you can fire anywhere, things like dynamite require some setup, which soothes his cowardly nerves. It is worth noting that he takes extreme precaution around explosives, right up until the teeth-gritting moment of setting them off, where his boyish brain rejoices in the big loud destruction noise.

- Basic medical training. Owing to his own terror of death, Del took on basic medical training. He is by no means a field medic or surgeon but knows triage and how to take care of the wounds of humans or animals with minimal resources. He’s a good backup, if nothing else. He can also recognise a sick cow in a heartbeat, which is a vastly useful skill, I promise.

- Horseriding. Del and Big Tug as a unit move quite efficiently. Due to his ranch life, Del is quite used to saddling up and riding with the cattle, as well as corralling them if he needs to. The only thing he wishes is that he could actually use a lasso, since that would complete the look entirely.

---

EQUIPMENT

Compact tool box – Just the essentials, for field work

BIG tool box – EVERYTHING. Would be for field work if he could carry it without going red in the face. Usually transported by Big Tug(horse).

Bulletproof poncho – His old ranch poncho, revamped by himself, to have several compact layers of bulletproof material. It’s a bit ragged but pretty warm.

Cowboy hat with plating – As with his poncho, he’s made the hat into more of a helmet. Just in case something decides to fall on his ever-so-precious brain.

‘Winchester’ Rifle – Not actually a Winchester, but looks and acts like one. It’s been pulled apart and put back together several times, all for the purposes of ‘improvement’. It has a small red piece of cloth tied around the barrel.

‘Prospectors’ Explosive Kit’ - Dynamite, gunpowder, shrapnel bombs, a spool of fusing. All kept in a very safe, durable kit box. And yes, it’s VERY safe. Del checked by throwing it down some stairs once. Well, twice. A few times. But it’s EXTREMELY safe.

Basic medical pack – Just the essentials. Maybe a small flask of alcohol (that’s definitely for wound sterilisation and not for drinking…)


Misc:

The ‘Mesh Log’ – A small electronic device in which Del records his location from time to time. Instead of having an invasive and potentially dangerous tracking device, Del was given a more traditional way of logging his location after the meshing. He is happy to do this, since he’d rather his mesh was recovered if he did die, rather than it getting destroyed due to being lost.

Camera – Obvious reasons. And also for engineering purposes. See a bit of kit you like? Take a picture from several angles and work out how it works later.

Bottlecap collection – From beers and beer brands from lots of different places around the sol system; an alcoholic travel album. They make cute tinkly sounds.

Heavily-thumbed romance novel – Only the twelfth time he’s read it.

Chunky memory stick – Del always wears it around his neck, but doesn’t like talking about it.

Improvised ammo – Some of it explodes and scatters shrapnel, some of it is alcohol-based incendiary ammo, some of it splits apart at a certain velocity to cause multiple wounds. Take your pick. Crafted item for use by others (ie, for support not for DPS).

---

BACKSTORY

A full-on ranch-boy, Del grew up with one older brother and two younger brothers. Once you hit 14 on the Alir ranch, you had a full-time job. His older brother, Tobor, disliked the demands of that sort of life, and took off into the stars to find a more exciting career. Del hung around for longer, taking on Tobor’s responsibilities, until he heard about a prototype brain-mesh technology that needed people to test it.

The details, in brief, described a complex mesh with a non-invasive learning AI embedded, which would absorb experiences and knowledge once picked up, which the AI would integrate into itself. The mesh would then be applied to a new person once the previous user had died or retired, and the new user would remember the experiences and knowledge as if it was their own.

There were a vast array of meshes in progress, including some dedicated to engineering. To qualify for a mesh, you had to be fully prepared to go forth and learn, travel and gain as much experience as possible to build up a ‘living encyclopaedia’ within the AI.

For three years, Del worked towards the goal of qualifying for an engineering mesh, including taking on engineering training, and teaching it. He learned the more academic types of engineering, including paper-writing, but always preferred the practical approach.

Whether it was his personal dedication to tech, or his studying, Del was approved for an engineering mesh, and became the second person to have this particular one. His skill with engineering from then on became increasingly incredible, especially for his age: though, when people learn the particulars of the brain mesh, it becomes understandable as to why he has achieved what he has. One would probably find out what his memory stick holds if they were to read one of the papers he has written, but who actually reads academic papers anyway?

One reason he’s taken on a bounty hunting role is because, in doing so, he can a) travel (important for the mesh), b) do some practical engineering, c) earn some money to help his parents pay the people they hired when he left and d) he sure don’t want any dastardly rogues and ne’er-do-wells running around the sol system, so why not do something about it? He also seems to need a bit of a break from the academic stuff for a while, since he gets immediately distressed and fatigued when the topic comes up.

 

[Foster]

NAME: Asher Rediker
Nickname: Ash, The Blade of Ship’s End, and on one occasion ‘fuccaneer’.




APPEARANCE

Species: Human cyborg
Age: 27
Weight: 93 kg (Look, all the exercise in the world can’t shed the weight of all that metal strapped to his body)
Height: 5’10”



PERSONALITY


Asher could most efficiently be summed up as criminal with a heart of gold. He would of course beg to differ, quick to point out that he’s firmly on the right side of the law, at least officially. The heart of gold he’d begrudgingly allow. His transition from pirate to bounty hunter was based on his strong moral code, and it’s the driving force behind most of his decisions. Pinning down exactly where he draws the line in the sand isn’t easy at a glance, but rest assured that you’ll know if you’ve crossed it.

Quick witted and sharp tongued, Asher isn’t for everyone but don’t be fooled by the act, he’s a big softie really. He’s got a weakness for the vulnerable and a stick to sharpen for those with unearned fortune.



Positive traits


The aforementioned 24-carat gold heart

Quick learner

Cunning

‘bigger picture’ kind of guy

Street smarts


Negative Traits

Abrasive

Prideful

Holds a grudge

Not educated in a traditional sense, doesn’t know much that couldn’t be taught to him by smugglers around a poker table.

SKILLS

Vehicular savant

Asher has a natural proclivity towards vehicles of all shapes and sizes and is quickly able to get to grips with even those he has little experience with. He prefers things that fly due to his upbringing but is happy to take the wheel of pretty much anything.

Razors edge

Personally Asher believes that the old adage ‘never bring a knife to a gun fight’ doesn’t apply to him. Years of training and playing with blades has given him the ability to use them very effectively, be it up close and personal or throwing them at a distance. He can also perform a few knife-based party tricks.

Many hands make short work…

Less of a skill and more of an artificial bolster to his physiology, Asher has a third set of limbs in the form of two robotic arms that have been bolted on to his body. They are positioned beneath his natural arms and can fold away behind his back quite neatly when not in use. This extra set of hands is useful for all kinds of tasks, from working complex machinery or holding multiple weapons to making washing up a breeze.

Bird brained

Through a nifty little cybernetic implant Asher is able to see through the ‘eye’ of Tobias, the artificial owl. Useful for recon.



EQUIPMENT

2x N&P 22 CO revolvers.

8x weighted throwing knives, kept in a series of sheathes running down Asher’s sides.

2x Fleetfoot combat knives. The edges of these puppies can be superheated to provide some extra cutting power and are kept in over the shoulder sheathes.

Father’s tricorn hat and helmet. The two are inseparable, a series of electromagnetic seals prevent the hat from falling off. Capable of all the things you’d like a helmet to do, reduce injury, hold oxygen, etc.

A custom hip flask inscribed with the words ‘All my love, your dearest Pete’. Asher has no idea who Pete is or was, but admires his taste in flask design.

A worn pack of traveling cards.

Protective coat and cloak, interwoven with fibres designed to help with the dispersal of energy on contact. This makes it particularly useful against laser or other energy based weapons but offers no bonus protection against more traditional kinetic weapons.

Kevlar waistcoat worn beneath coat and cloak.

1x Flexicuff

1x integrated data cuff. A one-stop-shop for all of Asher’s technical needs. Worn on his right wrist it is essentially a data pad that doesn’t have to be held, nothing fancy but it’s robust and gets the job done.

1x novelty classic astronaut bobble head. Perfect for sticking on the dashboard of any vehicle.

Tobias- An avian machine that functions as a companion for Asher. Tobias does not have a complex A.I and is about as smart as a crow.

BACKSTORY
Asher’s young life was one of excitement and peril, as one might expect for a kid being raised by cargo pirates in and around the rings of Saturn. Their ship ‘Penance’ was the only home he’d ever known, and it’s crew were a collection of unruly older siblings for him. Being the son of the Captain didn’t mean he had it easy however, and he was put to work as soon as he could walk. Every crew member had to prove their worth, even him. They started him off with the easiest tasks, cleaning the ship or organising hauls, but as time went on he was able to become a fully fledged member of Penance like everyone else.

Despite being pirates and smugglers there was a strict moral code aboard the vessel. They exclusively targeted rich corporation transports or cargo ships and violence was a last resort. It was important to shake their targets up, but most working for these sorts of corporations didn’t need much convincing to part with their goods rather than their lives. It was a good system, and for a long time all was well. Sadly the good fortune of Penance and her crew couldn’t go unnoticed forever. Supply routes bolstered security and a series of bounties were put out for members of the crew.

As things became more and more desperate Asher’s father was forced to make some difficult choices, commanding his crew to attack smaller vessels that were often family owned and worth very little. The returns they were making just couldn’t sustain them. So Penance and her crew were sold to a crime syndicate in the hopes that they would finally be able to make ends meet again. Under this syndicate hauls were plentiful, but the rules of engagement had changed. Almost every boarding resulted in a bloodbath, and as time went on Asher became aware of some of the other activities the syndicate took part in. There was no way they could continue like this, under the thumb of these people and he wasn’t the only one who had reached that conclusion. Before their next attack Asher staged a mutiny alongside several of his crewmates, attempting to reason with his father that the path they were on wasn’t worth the blood being spilt, that they had strayed too far from their original code of only targeting the rich and powerful. To this day Asher couldn’t tell you who fired the first shot. His father, one of his fellow mutineers, hell it may even have been him. When the shooting stopped Asher was the only one left standing, looking down at the hole he’d made in his father’s chest.

Forced to flee the syndicate, Asher everything behind in search of a new life, hoping to put his skills to use for a better cause. Those bounty hunters that had been hunting him half his life had occasionally seemed like decent sorts, so that seemed like a good place to start.

He ended up laying low in Ship’s End for a while, a satellite colony just outside of Mars that worked to take apart derelict spacecraft for salvage. Work here was easy to come by, and he settled in amongst the many other workers taking apart the great metal skeletons of ships past their prime. There was no way for him to know if he’d ever had bounty put out against him personally but staying low to the ground until the heat was off seemed like a good idea. Even once he began bounty hunting Ship’s End remained his base camp for a time, as he’d grown fond of the rag tag community there. But eventually he had to move on, a new position as a Deputy walker was calling to him in the outer colonies…