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Futuristic Lonely Gods | Characters

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Enum

Enum

I'm just here.
73224-space-stars-planet-hand-window.jpg


AWAKENING PROCEDURES INITIATED

BE ADVISED: CRYOSLEEP SICKNESS IS COMMON​

The lights of the stasis pod, though dim, blind you with their horrid blue glare. You reach up to wipe the exhaustion from your eyes and realize just how cold your skin really is against your face. You barely get to read the message on the frosty glass of the pod before it vanishes. Cryosleep sickness is quickly rising in your stomach, though in your exhaustion it feels somewhat bearable. You ponder at the thought that it may just be the sixteen-year-old NU-PASTE in your gut rather than the freezing process itself.

VITALS STABLE. DOWNLOADING PROSPECTOR BIO.
PLEASE WAIT, THIS MAY TAKE SEVERAL SECONDS
...
...
...
DOWNLOAD FINISHED

PROSPECTOR INFORMATION:​

A biography page with your face on it draws itself onto the glass. Its bureaucratic design feels objectifying, as though the machine is implying that you're merchandise. It even has an item code in the bottom left corner. It takes only a few seconds for you to realize that something is wrong.

NAME: [Data Corrupted]
DATE OF BIRTH: [Data Corrupted]
BIOLOGICAL AGE: [Data Corrupted]
CHRONOLOGICAL AGE: [Data Corrupted]
WORLD OF ORIGIN: [Data Corrupted]
​

While trying to load your data, the system fails entirely and displays a massive [HEAVY DATA CORRUPTION] error directly in the center of your vision. Its bright red tinge burns into your retinas, and you can't help but shy away from it. Eventually, the screen clears, and new text appears.

INITIALIZING INTRODUCTION SEQUENCE
VERSION: 000AAA-NULL PROSPECTOR UNKNOWN

A new set of dialogue appears, this time oriented to the left. It types out slowly, as though someone is actually typing to you. A voice from the speakers above you speaks in a low, feminine voice. As comforting as the sound is, you're acutely aware of the fact that it is an AI of some kind.

Good morning, Prospector. The time is currently [SIGNAT OFFLINE. PLEASE CONTACT SYSTEM ADMIN]. Certain parts of the prospector diagnostics systems appear to be offline, and we are currently unable to find your data. As per regulation 2222 1.07-C, you cannot be released until the on-board crew and AI have access to your information. You will have to complete a quick survey so that we can find your information. When you are prompted, please state, loudly and clearly, the data that is requested. If you are unsure about the question, please respond with the word 'unknown.' This process only takes a few minutes. Sabre Tech thanks you for your patience.

Eventually, the biography sheet appears in front of you. A cursor hovers over each section, prompting your response. It takes a couple of tries, but at least it finally picks up your name. You come to the harsh realization that the AI really won't let you go eat something until you've completed the form. Begrudgingly, and with soreness wreaking havoc on your body, you complete the survey. There are several agonizing seconds before the machine finally responds.

Data found. Welcome back, Prospector. You have been accounted for. The other Prospectors in your colony are either awakening or have already been awakened. Coffee and breakfast are being served in the cafeteria of the ship. Today's NU-PASTE flavor is; Bacon and Eggs. Please meet in the cafeteria section in ten minutes for briefing. If you are the designated WARDEN of your colony, please retrieve any prisoners on your ship and have them join you. Note that briefing is a necessity for proper colony management, and should not be skipped.

The cryosleep light turns off, and the pod hisses loudly as it opens. The cold, stale air of the pod is released into the main cryosleep chamber. As you step out, your legs feel numb from the lack of use over the past several years of travel, and you can't help but stretch your aching joints. Your eyes adjust to the room, and when you can fully see you take a quick glance at your surroundings. The walls are a bland dark steel color that barely reflects any of the light in the room. Cryosleep pods line the walls on opposite sides of the walls. Some are open, some are closed. Those that are closed are too cloudy to see into. You notice a small window at the opposite end of the room to the autodoor. The view of the planet below you is mesmerizing, it's a place completely untouched by human hands and thus has all of its natural clarity. Before you have time to really drink it all in, the overhead speaker reminds you that you are to report to the cafeteria for breakfast and briefing. You enjoy what you can, then head to join the others.


IMAGE: What does your character look like? Anime/artistic preferred (makes depicting non-human characters much easier.) A description is allowed.
NAME: Self-explanatory. If your character has a nickname, use the following arrangement: FIRSTNAME "Nickname" LASTNAME
BIOLOGICAL AGE: How old your character appears to be, described in Terran Years (Earth years). Cryosleep prevents biological aging, so do not include that time frame. If your character has been out of cryosleep for 20 years and IN cryosleep for 500, your biological age is 20.
CHRONOLOGICAL AGE: How long your character has ACTUALLY been alive, including cryosleep, described in Terran Years. The absolute maximum is 526 years (Your character would have a biological age of 80 at this point, as the current year is 2562 and cryosleep was developed in 2110). NOTE: Your chronological age should be AT LEAST 14 years older than your biological age.
SEXUALITY: Optional.
GENDER ORIENTATION: Optional.
WORLD-OF-ORIGIN: See the World Classifications section on the lore page for more information. If you would like to have your origin set somewhere besides the Homeworlds, feel free to use a real life planet or make one up. If you make one up, be sure to state its classification as well.
(COLONISTS ONLY) PRE-PROSPECTOR OCCUPATION: What was your job? Usually determines what you do on the colony.
COLONY OCCUPATION: Do you have a designated job on the colony? This can be anything along the lines of agricultural expert, doctor, warden, etc. If you don't want a specific job, just put PROSPECTOR. If you're a prisoner, put PRISONER.
(PRISONERS ONLY) CRIMINAL HISTORY: Why were you arrested?
NOTABLE TRAITS AND SKILLS: What kind of skills do you have? What terms best describe you? Use real ones, terms from the Lore page, or any that you want to make up.
NOTABLE MEDICAL HISTORY: Any cybernetics? Any gene/bio mods? Any surgeries that might affect your performance on the colony?
BACKGROUND DETAILS/HISTORY: Optional. What was life like for you back home? Why did you choose to become a Prospector?

Feel free to make this as pretty as you want, just include the above information.

Sorry y'all. I wanted to do a better character sheet but the one I was working with kept breaking, so it'll have to be this for now.
 
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Extremely basic example character below. It doesn't have to look like this, this is just to help y'all understand the information you're writing down

907cab695009d64bc9ab00d1a1359aa4.jpg

NAME: CEDRIC "Redd" ELANORE
BIOLOGICAL AGE: 32 TERRAN YEARS
CHRONOLOGICAL AGE: 269 TERRAN YEARS
SEXUALITY: HETEROSEXUAL
GENDER ORIENTATION: MALE
WORLD-OF-ORIGIN: SIGNEL 1316-B, GOLDWORLD
PRE-PROSPECTOR OCCUPATION: SECURITY OFFICER
COLONY OCCUPATION: WARDEN
NOTABLE TRAITS AND SKILLS: MARKSMAN, HEAVY WEAPONS OPERATION, TACTICS TRAINING, AGGRESSIVE, PRONE TO VIOLENCE, GLITTERBUG, RED-TOOTHED
NOTABLE MEDICAL HISTORY: STAB SCARRING {Right leg:Small, Face:Faded}, SHRAPNEL SCARRING {Chest:Large, Face:Small}, LUNG TRANSPLANT {Left(84% Efficiency)}, CYBERNETIC LEG ENHANCEMENT {Speed:both(17% Improvement) Strength:both(24% Improvement)}, CHRONIC PAIN {Legs:both}, PARANOID SCHIZOPHRENIA
BACKGROUND DETAILS/HISTORY: N/a


This is the general idea. Feel free to design these however you prefer.
 
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Artist link at end of post



NAME: Victor Askew
ITEM CODE: 1250201

BIOLOGICAL AGE: 28 Terran years
CHRONOLOGICAL AGE: 45 Terran years

SEXUALITY: Bisexual
GENDER ORIENTATION: Masculine

WORLD-OF-ORIGIN: Io​

PRE-PROSPECTOR OCCUPATION: Robotics engineer at Iothermal Plant Delta.

("State colony occupation."
"Probably more of the same, except they never confirmed what."
"Field entry unrecognised. When you are prompted, please state, loudly and clearly, the data—"
"Fine, unknown, unknown.")

COLONY OCCUPATION: Unknown

NOTABLE TRAITS AND SKILLS: General mechanical maintenance. Versatile. Quick learner. Good memory. Goal-driven. Techie. Irritable.

("I mean... what is this anyway, my resumé? I'm also hungry. And unable to give a shit about this."
"Field entry unrecognised. When you—"
"Just...! Next survey field.")

NOTABLE MEDICAL HISTORY: Previously: severe bilateral brachial and manual tremors (Cause: unknown motor disorder). Treated with cybernetic brachial replacements, bilateral. Possibility of further tremors developing elsewhere.

BACKGROUND DETAILS/HISTORY: Lived on Io my whole life. I needed to do something new.
> FURTHER BACKGROUND

Instead of parsing his speech for the relevant data and displaying the bare bones, like the AI had done with all the others, those last words appeared verbatim in front of him, hovering in mid-air. Victor frowned, still sore and nauseous from only his second-ever cryosleep, the longest of the two.

He'd filled out the form the first time what felt like years ago. Actually, it probably was... what, seventeen years since he'd sat in that office and answered their questions? (He still wasn't awake enough for simple arithmetic.) Most of that had been trying to make himself sound as useful and as suitable for the journey as possible, without withholding anything that they'd find out anyway and red-flag him for. Not that it matters now, he thought, petulant. What, would they send him back?

Unless...

Okay, it wasn't a lie. Everything he'd given as an answer, both now and then, was as true as he could make it. But there might have been some gaps. Victor really had lived on Io his whole life, and trained and worked as a robotics engineer at ITPΔ. Then again, most people on Io ended up somewhere like that, or one of the processing plants. Sulphur processing drove the economy, but thermal energy was what kept Io going, with almost all of its population spending their lives indoors. The surface was too volcanic and too toxic for any long-term terraforming to take hold, so instead long-legged architecture covered its surface like mosquitoes, spearing probes and vents into the surface to harvest heat from within.

He'd completed the training, and had maybe seven good Terran years of work before the tremors got so bad that he could barely pick up a spanner. They'd started off small, ignorable, maybe down to stress from when he first started full-time. Finally he'd seen a doctor, who had charged a ridiculous amount of money to poke him, prod him, scan him, and finally look Victor in the eyes and ask him about how often he ate the reddest meat. The accusation, while wrong, was less infuriating than the insinuation. "Well, you probably did this to yourself," they all but said.

By the age of 26 he'd lost his job and no doctor seemed to be taking him seriously enough to actually find a cause. At least, none that he could afford. Finally a friend of his neighbour came to see him, staring at Victor with a strange kind of intense disinterest through modded eyes. "Just the arms?" she'd asked. "Weird." She knew someone who knew a guy, who worked with someone who had treated this kind of thing before.

"It's a permanent solution," they'd said. "Sure you could spend time and money on different meds or mods trying to fix somethin' you don't even know where it is. Have them snippin' out bits of your brain until they find the right spot, that's what they like. They said it's kuru yet? Huh, figures. Prion disease don't show like this, but I guess they're too busy looking for red teeth to care. So. Let me try somethin'."

They'd strapped up his arm and temple with electrodes and jabbed a finger at the monitor readout as he struggled to pick up a pen. "See?" they said, even though he didn't. "The signal's getting to the arm fine. It all just disintegrates here. Sarai was right. I can fix this, no problem. Remove the whole arm, replace it with a steadying cybernetic limb."

"Remove the arm?"

"Look, if you want the brain meds that probably won't do nothin', trust me, go back to your doctor. Or... or maybe with long-term treatment you could scoop out, regrow and replace all the nerve and muscle tissue in your arms. Might be back to normal in... maybe three years, and that's if the tissue grows back good. Or I can do this for you now, you're back to work in two weeks. May as well get both arms done at once, cut down on recovery time."

He'd gone through with it without thinking. Deliberately without thinking. He couldn't afford it, but neither could he afford to be out of work for however long it might take to fix him. And it hurt constantly, with his arms and fingers locked in contractions, in a way that might make a better person more appreciative of life and kind to others, but just made Victor angry at everything and everyone. So he'd agreed to the contract of repayment, and he'd seen the arms they'd fit to him (not tailored to him, but close enough), and then he'd fallen asleep and when he woke up it still felt like his muscles were clenched, but his chest and back hurt too, and the connection between metal and tissue was haphazard and uncomfortable. It wasn't until later, when he was able to sit up and take a drink from a glass without assistance, that he thought it was all worth it.

Of course he recovered: people recovered from worse, in worse conditions than the makeshift surgery room of a shady friend of a friend of an acquaintance. He was soon employed again, and just as quickly realised that he wasn't as good as his job as his memory had told him. In his head his skills had only been held back by his physical abilities, but now... he was out of practice, he told himself, and worked hard enough to ignore the twinges and resurfacing of phantom pains as his body tried to adjust. Victor had told himself he'd learn an instrument, to draw, play sports, everything he had an excuse to postpone. But he didn't. Maybe it was the knowledge that he might fail that held him back. That he was getting older and he'd done nothing.

Well, next to nothing. He had managed to get into a quite remarkable amount of debt, with an interest rate that climbed several times higher than he'd been led to believe. Somewhat higher than he could afford, even without considering the food or rent. He'd asked for a more reasonable loan plan, and was told that they'd take his goddamn arms back if he missed another payment.

So, Victor did the only sensible thing, and signed up for the Prospect Program to get the hell out of there.

"Data found."

The lights flickered off, making him blink, and briefly searing the brightness of the last printed words into his retinas.

I NEEDED TO DO SOMETHING NEW.

(Art used is by wehavekookies)​
 
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Edward G. Tregre: FILE DATA


1611019593135.png
MH : Clincal Depression
PH : Respitory+
BA : 32 Terran Years
CA : 96 Terran Years
S : < N/A >
G : Male
WOO : Io 32-B
GMO : Positive <Recessive>
CMO : Positive <Major>
Profile : Data​

Occupation < Prospector >

Pre-Occupation < Deep Crust Miner >< Farm Hand >< Lab Tech >

Mental Profile < [ Edward Tregre ] has a confirmed case of [ Clinical Depression ] no further action required >

Physical Profile < [ Edward Tregre ] has a confirmed case of [ minor macular degeneration ] in [ left eye ] >

< [ Edward Tregre ] had a previous case of [ major cwb ] in [ both lungs ] with solution being [ respitory augmentation ] >

< [ Edward Tregre ] had a previous case of [ a heart-attack ] no further action required >



Biography​
Leave no child behind. That is the namesake of many orphanages and it holds true as an apt business model in the modern era. When it comes to that parents can not tailor towards their offspring it is then orphanages that offer, or even pay, to take such weight off their shoulders. After all, it is orphanages that breed many of the most loyal workers that the Union has as its blue-collar backbone. In proper mutualistic partnership, the Union keeps orphanages' economic pulse beating so long as this trend is continued.

Edward Tregre is one such child born of an incidental relationship due to someone banging his mother for her cat eyes. He was given to an orphanage at the ripe age of two with no cat eyes to show himself but what he did have were nearsightedness and extreme coloboma. That and the mark of 'GMO' stained his official documentation thereafter. As a genetically modified individual, he was on a set path to harder labor more certain than most. Through the Union's mandatory educational system he learned to read wherein the library system at his orphanage became a sort of parental guardian to him where the authors in the tomes taught him much where his main interest was that of biology and chemistry. Outside of his mandatory classes, he was commonly here away from the judgemental stares of his peers due to his unique looks. Even into adulthood, he could never look someone in the eye and much less stand it. A self-hate slowly brewing.

Overall, Edward was rather book smart but such mattered little as his papers already ordained his placement into a boot camp and eventual labor. When the time came at the age of sixteen he was ready in fact. Taught through his formative years to keep in line he did just that. The Union knew what was best for him. Every child in the orphanage knew of this outstanding fact. The constant reminders from during the Union's educational classes did much in the way of that. When the time came he was ready to be a prime worker to his caretakers. His self-hate converted into a pursuit to not be a sin under the Union's graces.

His first cryo-sleep came shortly after since the outpour from orphanages was decent enough to economically stimulate companies to keep some prime and willing workers on ice until their services were required. Through the charitable employment of the mining company, he was sporadically kept on 'break' as his higher-ups called it. The mining operation was one of the many that speared into the moon of Io leaving festering craters dotting its surface. The great Union did much to provide for its people of that Edward was certain as much as he was of his quickly failing health.

As such, it came as a shock when one day he was awoken from cryo-sleep only to be given a pink slip. It seemed the mining company was on a tight rope and couldn't afford to keep a surplus of people on 'break' as it were. More so those beyond the BA of 24 terrans years. Edward was merely sympathetic to the company not wanting to be a weight of how charitable they had been to him. Perhaps it was due to how laughable he was or that he was already looking past thirty at merely twenty terran years but one of his employers in a mere stroke of humanity or maybe humility set up the sickly Edward with new employment at a local farming complex.

This happenstance merely further instilled into Edward that the Union was in fact looking out for him. Ever the Union loyalist at heart he was quick to keep in prime condition as much of his savings quickly dwindled away into augmentation surgery for a condition called coal mouth. It was a rather stuck on term for anyone suffering from pneumoconiosis due to hard mining labor in the pits. Life was rather docile for Edward in these years learning both agriculture and biological sciences in the farming steads of Io. All the while becoming a firmer zealot of Union idealogy with this new lease on life. The man's intellect from years prior came into bloom. Still, no higher positions existed for him with his papers still holding the GMO mark that was so vastly discriminated against. And rightly so thinks Edward. He knew he had to be held accountable for the sins of his parents and to not be a weight on the Union.

The Prospect Program eventually came along and Edward saw a new path by which he could further progress the Union's ideology outside of its normal reach. Signing up was instinctive to the man to that end. Waking up from another 'break' the man was ready to continue work as usual whatever it may be.
 


♫ ━━ you can run
Luca Priestley
  • 𓂀
    blood is thick
    but innocence is sweeter
    truths tell lies
    and they are none the wiser
code by valen t. Art by gpddassb on devianart
 
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>LOAD FILE: PROSPECTOR INFORMATION
>[ERROR: FILE CORRUPTION]
//SYS_CMMD: RESTART
>SYSTEM REBOOTING...
>FILE RESTORED...

>LOAD IMAGE: [D_HAID]
nUq4n4Ml.jpg


BASIC INFORMATION
NAME: HAIDER, DOUGLAS K
NICKNAME(S): “DOUG” “HAIDER”
BIOLOGICAL AGE: 43 TERRAN YEARS
CHRONOLOGICAL AGE: 57 TERRAN YEARS
SEXUALITY: HETEROSEXUAL
GENDER ORIENTATION: MASCULINE
WORLD-OF-ORIGIN: EUROPA, HOMEWORLD
PRE-PROSPECTOR OCCUPATION: UNION POLICE OFFICER, CRIMINAL INVESTIGATOR
COLONY OCCUPATION: UNION POLICE OFFICER, CRIMINAL INVESTIGATOR

NOTABLE TRAITS AND SKILLS
  • PRAGMATIC
  • INSIGHTFUL
  • ANALYTICAL
  • PERSISTENT
  • SARCASTIC
  • CYNICAL
  • UNSYMPATHETIC
  • IMPULSIVE
  • DESENSITIZED TO VIOLENCE

  • ADEPT PHOTOGRAPHER
  • POOR MARKSMAN
  • DISCRETE SURVEILLANCE
  • CALM UNDER PRESSURE

MEDICAL HISTORY
NOTABLE CONDITIONS
  • CHRONIC NICOTINE DEPENDENCE
  • ALCOHOLIC TENDENCIES
  • MYOCARDIAL ISCHEMIA (FORMERLY)
PRIOR MEDICAL COMPLICATIONS
  • HEART ATTACK DUE TO: [MYOCARDIAL ISCHEMIA]
    • LIST OF AUTHORIZED TREATMENTS
      • CORRECTIVE SURGERY
      • RESULT: INEFFECTIVE
      • CHOLESTEROL AND BLOOD PRESSURE REDUCTION PRESCRIBED
      • RESULT: INEFFECTIVE
      • TOTAL HEART REPLACEMENT
      • RESULT: ADEQUATE
  • SKULL FRACTURING DUE TO: [BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA]
    • NO ACTION TAKEN
  • APPENDAGE INJURY(LEFT HAND) DUE TO: [BALLISTIC TRAUMA]
    • CYBERNETIC PROSTHETIC ADMINISTERED
KNOWN CYBERNETIC AUGMENTATIONS
  • MECHANICAL HEART REPLACEMENT
  • CYBERNETIC HAND REPLACEMENT (LEFT)
KNOWN BIO-MODS
  • NONE
KNOWN GENETIC MODIFICATIONS
  • NONE

BACKGROUND DETAILS
>[ERROR: FILE CORRUPTION]
>SYSTEM REBOOTING...
>FILES RESTORED...
>ACCESSING DATABASE...

>OPEN FILE: //:93297
>LOADING...
HAIDER, DOUGLAS K
UNION POLICE, EUROPA
CRIMINAL INVESTIGATOR
ID - 93297

SENIOR DETECTIVE [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] has proven a vital asset in prior years of service. The data shows a 46 percent success rating in cases of the following categories: HOMICIDE, MISSING PERSONS, FUGITIVE RECOVERY. Out of 147 cases assigned, 66 were pursued to completion.
His success rating is, on average, 12 percent higher than all other SENIOR DETECTIVES in several neighboring precincts. In his 11 years of service, [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] has successfully solved 37 homicides, 23 missing persons cases, and 6 fugitive recoveries. [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] has also sustained four on-duty injuries. [BONE FRACTURE: ANKLE] while in pursuit of a suspect. [BONE FRACTURE: NOSE] during interrogation of suspect. >(suspect restraints not installed properly)< [BONE FRACTURE: SKULL] during apprehension of fugitive, [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] struck with metal object. [BALLISTIC TRAUMA: LEFT HAND] during a firefight with suspect, [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] sustained a wound from a shotgun to his left hand, resulting in a total destruction of the appendage.

Officers of [PRECINCT 070111] describe [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] as highly focused on assigned cases. By colleague testimony, he consistently exhibits logical reasoning and analysis on cases. Unlike some in his precinct, he is not easily dispelled from difficult cases. When evaluated under stress, [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] has proven able to keep focus under extreme pressure such as immediate danger or under time constraints. [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] is reliable when tasked with discrete surveillance, offering accurate photos and offering reliable intel for Union Police. One criticism by the evaluator cited a decrease in marksmanship scoring after he sustained a ballistic wound to his dominant (left) hand.

Furthermore, let the record show that some concerns regarding undesirable behavior have been raised by his superior PRECINCT CHIEF [ALDER, JONATHAN]. According to previous incidents, [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] has had unfriendly relations with many colleagues. On numerous occasions, officers have filed complaints and reported a preference of not working closely with [HAIDER, DOUGLAS]. Apparently, he exhibits insensitive sentiments and distasteful humor. It is unknown whether or not [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] is ignorant of his behavior or is actively disregarding complaints. In addition, [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] has been put on probation once for unprofessional behavior: [ON-DUTY INTOXICATION]. PRECINCT CHIEF [ALDER, JONATHAN] cited that [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] was hospitalized for heart complications due to prolonged nicotine usage, yet did not cease the behavior. PRECINCT CHIEF [ALDER, JONATHAN] has requested a personnel transfer for [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] a total of three times during his service.

>EVALUATION SUMMARY...
SENIOR DETECTIVE [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] has exhibited commendable actions during service. He has a high case success rating, and, aside from a few anomalies, has a consistent work ethic. Although his behavior may be in need of correction, it is in my opinion that [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] remains on active duty.

EVALUATOR: [FRASER, CALLUM]
RECOMMENDED ACTION: NONE

>ATTENTION: THERE ARE (1) FILES THAT HAVE BEEN CENSORED FOR: SENIOR DETECTIVE [HAIDER, DOUGLAS]
>VIEW SELECTED FILE?
//YES
>LOADING...

//:MISCONDUCT CITATION - [HAIDER, DOUGLAS]
CATEGORY: DERELICTION OF DUTY

After discovery of a [MISSING PERSON] location, [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] went against direct orders and pursued the lead. It was recommended by PRECINCT CHIEF [ALDER, JONATHAN] that the safety of the victim not be jeopardized by incautious action. It was in the opinion of [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] that the victim would not survive any further delay of rescue. [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] and partner [PARTCHER, ELIAS] arrived on scene to apprehend a total of three confirmed suspects. Negotiations with suspects broke down almost immediately and a firefight ensued. Unfortunately, SENIOR DETECTIVE [PARTCHER, ELIAS] was killed in action after sustaining a gunshot wound to the face. [HAIDER, DOUGLAS] killed two suspects before accidentally shooting the victim in the chest while the final suspect used her as a human shield. The victim: [DATA EXPUNGED] was transported to the hospital but was declared deceased on arrival.

RECOMMENDED ACTION(S) FOR SENIOR DETECTIVE [HAIDER, DOUGLAS]:
>IMMEDIATE TERMINATION
...
>ACTION TAKEN: RELOCATION TO [WORLD CLASS: PROSPECT]
...
>DELETE FILE?
//YES_
 
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-PRISONER INFORMATION-

-Please know that selling this Info can get you a Death Sentence, Be advised.-

Jackson_Hargreave.jpeg

NAME:
Jackson 'Jack' Hargreave

BIOLOGICAL AGE:
26 Terran Years.

CHRONOLOGICAL AGE:
40 Terran Years.

SEXUALITY:
Straighter than the lines of code in that computer there.

GENDER ORIENTATION:
Male, Why would I be anything else?

WORLD-OF-ORIGIN:
I was born on Earth, Although, The overpopulation of humans was kinda cramping up the planet.

COLONY OCCUPATION:
I'm a Prisoner, I know a good bit about anything and everything. You could say I'm a 'Jack of All Trades'...Ha...It wasn't funny, Was it?

CRIMINAL HISTORY:
  • I was arrested for...I sold drugs...Something I regret But had to make credits somehow...I told my ma I was gonna make her proud...And I feel so guilty now...I'm a failure...But there's a new chance for me, and everyone else here....I'll make it up to you Ma, I promise.

NOTABLE TRAITS AND SKILLS:
  • I respect everyone equally and I never start a fight, I guess I get It from my Ma.
  • I can make honest trades.
  • I can learn just by watching, Yes, I'm a quick learner.
  • I can use Melee weapons better than I use firearms, I like to use my fists If needed.
  • I can do the Kazotsky Kick If you want me to show you...Oh, wait, You're an AI.

NOTABLE MEDICAL HISTORY:
  • Artificial Spine- Back when I was first laboring to get my freedom back, I broke my spine and I had this one put in me. I can do actual backflips and bend either way a bit more than the 'normal' human. I can also lift a bit more too, Making me useful for carrying related tasks.
  • Artificially Strengthened Legs- Although they are artificial, They look entirely real, I mean they even bleed. With these, I can lift something up to 300 pounds without breaking my arms, Due to the Infused carbon and Poly carbonite that makes up the Artificial bones.
  • Asthma- Yes, It hurts when It happens. Very painful when you can't breathe right. I was born with It, And smoke, ashes, fire, etc can trigger it. Although, Im not always able to carry my Inhaler.

BACKGROUND DETAILS:
  • I was born in the Very overcrowded city of New York, Or what remained of it. My Ma was a Doctor and my Father...Well...He...died protecting my mother before my birth. I grew up doing different jobs and I learned quickly, I did business with my Ma and sold Bionics all the time, Learning new things about Implants and such. When my Ma died, A gang of some sort approached me with an offer: 'Deliver and Sell for Us or Die'. I chose the wrong thing, It was the only way for me to make money and stay alive. And now here I am, Doing my best to earn my Freedom back.
 

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It's not really a DnD style thing. Dice is just used when an event needs to affect a random person.
 
cookie5.jpg
NAME: Aki -A17
CHRONOLOGICAL AGE: 29
SEXUALITY: straight?
GENDER ORIENTATION: male
MANUFACTURER: SabreTech
MODEL: Roller Droid Type A
AI CORE TYPE: C
AVAILABLE TOOLS: Personal HABITAT Projector, Structure Scanner Tool, Small Storage Compartment, HABITAT Systems Connection Device, and Adhesive Limbs.
DAMAGE: Medium Damage to Memory, Medium damage to outer shell. Major damage to front left leg. Minor damage to CPU
MEMORY LOGS: Little to none due from damage to it's memory core. The only thing it remembers are it's base functions, name and purpose.
 
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