[hider=Shadowblade] [center][img]http://oi68.tinypic.com/2m3mog4.jpg[/img][/center] [hr] [color=9e0b0f][b]Name[/b][/color] [color=gray]Birth name: Lost, records expunged Corporate ID: #4821823490 Alias: Mr. Johnson Omega Codename: Shadowblade[/color] [color=9e0b0f][b]Age[/b][/color] [color=gray]34[/color] [color=9e0b0f][b]Gender[/b][/color] [color=gray]Male[/color] [color=9e0b0f][b]Nationality[/b][/color] [color=gray]American [/color] [color=9e0b0f][b]Occupation[/b][/color] [color=gray]Mr. Johnson- For anyone who runs the streets outside of direct corporate control, life is always dangerous. Things happen, people get hurt and shit breaks. People in the shadows either end up with a network of contacts or they end up dead. What does an honest criminal need to do in order to get yourself fixed up without giving the mindless hordes of mouthbreathing corporate wageslaves a chance to rat you out? You gotta know a guy, who might know another guy who is willing to do something on the DL for a fistful of cash. If your problem happens to be that you had a disagreement with corporate security and left with a few more holes than you started out with, you'll wanna know where the nearest street doc is rather than check yourself in at the local hospital. Depending on how well connected you are and how much cash you have to spare, he might even sanitize his equipment once a week. On the other hand, if your highly illegal cybernetic enhancements are the ones who took the beating, then "I know a guy" might refer to Mr. Johnson. [i]Cyberfix[/i] is the name Omega has given to the particular business front that Mr. Johnson is involved with running. Here is where Mr. Johnson can put his knowledge and experience servicing and repairing cybernetics to good use. He prefers to accept payments in the form of cash, though he is not above bartering. On a regular basis Mr. Johnson ends up plying his trade in return for spare parts and as a result, his regular supply of second-hand (or worse) parts guarantees his shop can stay open to those with less than stellar bank accounts. Of course, some procedures are messier than others and often require a bit of something extra to help get them through the pain. To this extent, Mr. Johnson almost always knows a guy he can hook you up with, courtesy of the other business ventures Omega is involved in. That being said, besides a slew of painkillers of varying potency, Mr. Johnson likes to keep the substances of more questionable application and legality as separated from his (almost) legitimate business as possible. At present, the mixture of corrupt local law enforcement readily susceptible to bribes and his policy of keeping the more overtly criminal activities to a minimum in his shop have resulted in a relatively successful business model so far. Shadowblade- Within the cybernetically enhanced street gang, Omega, Shadowblade serves much of the same purpose as he does with his "day job"- that of keeping people on their feet and ready for anything. Additionally, through his "day job", Shadowblade memorizes and catalogs people who come through his shop. Keeping track of information they let slip when hopped up on pain meds and noting the varying legality of parts they are equipped with, Shadowblade helps scout potential new members for Omega as well as pick out new targets for the more vigilante element of the gang. If you fuck with the Enhanced, then Omega [i]will[/i] find you. As his name might suggest, Shadowblade is rather proficient with knives and more than willing to use them on behalf of the gang when out on a mission.[/color] [color=9e0b0f][b]Place of Residence[/b][/color] [color=gray]The Foundry. Mr. Johnson lives and works at the same place- and old firehouse that had been abandoned for some time before it was legitimately acquired by members of Omega. Within this complex, Mr. Johnson has claimed a large section of the firehouse garages as his work-space and housing arrangements, even going so far as to have a cot in one corner next to a couple gurneys. He generally refuses to live in any building where he cannot sleep on the first floor, or sleep in any room where there is only one main entrance/exit. In a pinch, being able to jump out a first story window usually achieves better results than any other floor.[/color] [color=9e0b0f][b]Cybernetics[/b][/color] [color=gray]Wired reflexes- Shadowblade has a somewhat older version of the more contemporary wired reflexes enhancements, dating back to the days when the system effectively put your body into a state of perpetual seizure, controlled and directed by a build-in computer system in order to enhance reaction speed and movements well beyond what an unaugmented human is normally capable of. The downside is that it often results in twitchiness and sporadic muscle spasms when used- leading to more than one instance of accidental stabbing when reflexes kick in before mental recognition takes control. It is the sort of thing he does not rely on in his daytime line of work, where a single involuntary twitch at the wrong moment can leave someone without a functional limb or worse. Datajack- Implanted into the base of his skull, this allows Shadowblade to establish a direct neural interface with other electronics either for diagnostic purposes or hacking. Additionally, it includes a chip implant in order to give Shadowblade direct connection to the Databahn as necessary. Cyberlimbs- Shadowblade has had both one arm and one leg replaced against his will with cybernetic limbs. At one point they would have been considered top of the line and nearly indistinguishable from a regular limb. After years on the street, Shadowblade has had to do a series of tune-ups and parts replacements. While the craftsmanship is almost always done by his own hand and as a result is highly functional, there is no longer any mistaking the limbs for anything other than cybernetics.[/color] [color=9e0b0f][b]Bio[/b][/color] [color=gray]For a select handful of people, this world is a paradise full of technological marvels that were reserved for science-fiction only a scant couple hundred years ago. For everyone else, it's shit. The kind of place where your only escape from the crushing reality of your useless dead-end life is the few hours provided by a nice shot of NEON or a few drops of GIGABYTE. Unfortunately, such a dependence can land you in a situation where you find yourself jobless, penniless and unable to pull together enough to get your next fix. The sort of situation where you might consider giving over custody of your own child to some sketchy corporate entity looking for any legal guardian willing to sign a few consent forms and forget they ever had a child in return for a fistful of cash. After all, they're usually just an accident to begin with, so why would you be stuck footing the bill for their upbringing? After all, there is always such a high demand for new participants in the testing of new cyberware. At any rate, citizen ID: #4821823490, who would later in life start calling himself "Mr. Johnson", was acquired as a business asset by a small subsidiary branch of Geiger Institute of Cybernetics. He started off at a young enough age that he barely retained any memories of life before the institute or of his biological family. His early life was not a particularly happy one. Though nothing done to him was overtly malicious in intention- it was simply the result of an institution that did not see their test subjects as people, where everything was done with the meticulous callousness of scientific advancement. He did not go without proper food or education, as someone somewhere down the line had evidently crunched numbers and come to the conclusion that healthy, physically and mentally capable participants who were able to be at least partially self-reliant when not actively being put to use made for the best results. His only real companionship growing up consisted of the other participants in a similar situation to his own, who often were grouped together for education, meals and whatever unstructured time they were allowed. Still, he was put through a fairly regular regime of test and experimentation, largely centered around testing the human bodies ability to acclimate to cybernetics, starting from as young an age as possible. After running operations for over a decade, eventually the lab was shut down as a result of ethics violations. Now, if this had been tied to all the potential human rights abuses perpetuated on a daily basis it might have fooled someone into thinking that there was some small measure of justice in the world. Of course, we've already established that the world is shit. The real reason things came grinding to a halt was that one of the fancy department heads in charge of overseeing the project was caught embezzling staggering amounts of money straight out of the megacorp grants supporting the project. Needless to say, [i]that[/i] was the sort of thing Geiger takes very seriously. Within days of the news surfacing, activity within the facility ground to a halt, as countless employees waited nervously to see if a new project head would be instated or if they needed to look for employment elsewhere. It was in this lull that a sizable group of participants decided to stage their own uprising. Rather than let himself become embroiled in what seemed a foolhardy effort, Mr. Johnson decided to use the resulting chaos to abandon those who chose to fight back and make good his escape from the Institute. After his escape he spent several years on his own, convinced that the Institute was hunting him. A fairly accurate guess, seeing as how he had inadvertently stolen a small fortune in cybernetics when he had run off. Having spent the better part of his life under megacorp. custody, his perception of their reach was greatly inflated. Convinced that they had eyes everywhere and that everyone secretly worked for the Institute, he did his best to avoid any social attachments and mostly stuck to dumpster diving and robbing convenience stores to eke out a meager subsistence. While he managed to last some time while keeping any interaction with other people to a minimum, that was not ultimately a sustainable option. As it turns out, cybernetics are in need of constant maintenance, with pieces that end up eventually failing and in need of replacement. For that, you need connections with people who have connections with other people who can acquire the parts you need. Due to the circumstances, this inevitable wound up with Mr. Johnson getting himself involved with Omega. Initially wary, he did not take too long to embrace the ideals of the group, working to carve himself out his own small niche in the gang. While back in the institute, it was expected that the company property installed within each participant be kept in pristine condition, thus Mr. Johnson came to Omega with a solid set of skills to make himself valuable if provided with the proper resources to make use of those skills. Though he primarily settled into the role of glorified repairman and Omega recruiter, while out on missions with his crew he took to referring to himself by the alias "Shadowblade" after his weapons of choice. [/color] [hr] [center] [img]https://i.imgur.com/nKF4pkh.png?1[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/7CVgr94.png[/img] [/center] https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/168477-s/ic [/hider]