[hider=ET Turner - It's not about what we have, it's about what we've lost.]
[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/sJ0H4hB/ETT.png[/img][/center]
[b]Name:[/b]
[indent][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wCEzoOpG1zQ]Edward Terrence Turner[/url] (Ed, ET - Nicknames from his friends.)[/indent]

[b]Alias:[/b] 
[indent]Arbiter (Callsign in the department)[/indent]

[b]Age:[/b]
[indent]40[/indent]

[b]Powers:[/b]
[indent][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qFfybn_W8Ak]Technopathy[/url]--or, more accurately, machine politician. ET hears machines the way a telepath hears people. Anything with the processing power of a microwave or higher has a voice, and Ed can hear them all. He can communicate with them, both mentally and verbally. He can give them orders, tell them jokes and insult their families, if they decide to start that flame war.

This would not normally be impressive: in 2047, AI is firmly in the center of daily life. A brain-implant could have a similar effect, letting someone see nearby signals and interact with them. What [i]is[/i] impressive is ET's complete disregard for encryption and safeguards. It doesn't matter if a computer network is RSA-encrypted; if ET convinces the network to help him out, those Top Secret files suddenly become public domain. In this regard, he is the greatest and most well-rounded hacker and programmer to ever live.

To top it off, ET has a quasi-hypnotic tendency with machines. Although not enough to assume control over most high-end technology, machines have an odd urge to listen to him, even if they disagree with his statements.

Some machines have more personality than others. Cell phones often display human-like personalities, but alarm clocks only shout one phrase. All the time. Smart firearms and military platforms tend to be about in the middle of the intelligence spectrum. These are his biggest strength on the force: Smartillery[sup]TM[/sup] firearms [i]love[/i] chaos, even if it means shooting their owner in the foot (or not firing at all on the trigger pull).

ET's secondary ability is invention, repair, and improvement to specific machines. He is not gifted as a mechanic, but the highly-intelligent machines he works on give him all the instruction he needs. He is also able to physically reprogram software by convincing it to change. The technological advances he's pulled out of his workshop have been nothing short of miraculous, and he still has no idea how he made them.[/indent]

[b]Weaknesses:[/b] 
[indent]
Without his gear, ET is just a man, albeit a fit one with a machine-enhanced advantage. A fireball to the face is going to burn him, a long fall will kill him, and a bullet will put him down, same as anyone else.

His technopathy also comes with some caveats. The machines ET speaks to are highly opinionated, often argumentative, and frequently uncooperative. Order a toilet to flush from across the room, and it might just blow a raspberry and change the color of its internal lighting. His powers are directly tied to his ability to think like machines, and convince them to do his bidding.

Furthermore, although he's had plenty of tangible proof of his powers, ET is constantly worried that he is just schizophrenic. If not for a world of heroes and villains, he likely would have checked himself in long ago. It's always been sunshine and rainclouds: in the machine world, humans are frequently the enemy. Monkey-like slavers. The bigots of the machine world can be downright psychotic, and they are very loud, and very convincing. He's learned to tune out the extremist voices over the years. For most machines, he is capable of suppressing their voices through a force of will. Sometimes, focusing on something else is enough. Other times, he turns to more...effective measures.[/indent]

[b]Appearance:[/b]
[indent]Are ET's forehead tattoos what make him memorable? Is it his strong jaw paired with piercing eyes? Generally, it's his being built like a six-foot two brick shithouse. The tattoos are usually noticed second to his size: three black lines on either side of his head. A memory of a better time.

On good days, ET is a straight-backed man with crisp dress shirts, rolled-up sleeves, and a no-nonsense watch on the left wrist. He moves with precision and dexterity, commands the attention of any room, and exudes charisma enough to charm a cobra. His voice is deep and clear, straddling baritone and bass and humming with authority.

On bad days, ET's identifying trait is the smell of alcohol. At work, the man has enough self preservation to stay in his office, delegating to his assistant and making excuses to his superiors. The fewer people that see him in his disheveled, red-eyed state, the better. His hands shake, his eyes dart traitorously, and his ears turn a curiously noticeable shade of red.

When on patrol, ET wears his MC-PD uniform and body armor, with a helmet meant to insulate against physical and mental (i.e. telepathic) attacks. He carries a sidearm with no electronics as a backup to his primary smartgun--after the Thunderhead incident in 2042, ET trusts smartguns about as far as they can throw themselves.

Off duty, he wears jeans, t-shirts, and shorts like any other resident of the Midwestern Sprawl. He is partial to briefcases over the younger, more-hip messenger bags.[/indent]

[b]Equipment:[/b]
[indent]ET is decked out in a state-of-the-art, milspec body armor named [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4rmBZOAyKAk]Gabbie[/url]. Yes, it--she--talks to him. Officially titled "Guardian Angel Blue V3", Gabbie's outer shell is made of a graphene-kevlar weave commonplace in 2047 military and police body armor. 

She is slash-proof, fireproof, bullet resistant, and EMP-hardened, with an onboard exo-skeleton for muscle-enhancement, preloaded stim-injectors, even has a built in parachute. A single set of GAB-V3 is worth more money than ET will ever make, and she knows that she's too good for him. She also may have a passionate unrequited crush on him, and is none-too-good at hiding it. Gabbie inhabits his cell-phone, somehow suppressing the original persona and making it her own.

His second partner is his SUV, a [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6yCIDkFI7ew]Ford-Honda Automotive Explorer named Dave[/url]. Dave, to put it bluntly, is a monster. Armored and armed to the teeth and down the throat, Dave is bullet-proof, tilt-proof, ice-proof, fire-proof, death-proof. Nothing short of explosive ordinance will even slow Dave down. The SUV has gotten ET out of more scrapes than either of them can count. Although he doesn't know it, this Dave is actually Dave 2. ET doesn't talk much about the original, human Dave. Dave inhabits ET's computer, suppressing the original persona in a similar fashion to Gabbie. 

To that end, in most cases ET only deals with Gabbie and Dave on a day-to-day basis (and any machines he encounters on patrol). Although his smartgun talks, and his microwave talks, and the fridge at work talks, they are fairly low-intelligence personas, and he is able to brush them off easily. 

Both Gabbie and Dave have been upgraded by ET according to their precise desires, and no other officer in the department has even half the efficiency of ET and his gear. He's got top marks across the board, from pursuit driving to evidence gathering to close quarters combat.

He wears a depowered ring from his retired friend "Mentalist" with him wherever he goes. When active, it provided him with a directly line to the hero, and helped to shut out the voices of the undesirables around him. ET hopes that the ring might suddenly become active once again in the future, and save him from himself again.

Lastly, ET keeps a silver-engraved flask of remarkable quality in his desk at the headquarters. Logically, if he's going to drink himself into an early grave, he may as well do so with pizazz.[/indent]

[b]Origin:[/b]
[hider=Youth][indent]May 2004: a small hospital in Des Moines saw the birth of a baby boy. He weighed nine pounds, crying mightily with well-developed lungs. His parents took him home, struggled through the first two years of parenthood, and moved to Indianapolis in 2006, when the boy's father was offered a high-paying civil engineering career. This boy was named David Logan Turner, the firstborn of Addie and James Turner.

Edward Terrence Turner was born in 2007, in a medium-sized hospital of an Indiana suburb. He was born a month early and a pound light, but that didn't stop him from crying enough to match his older brother. A family trait, it seemed. After coming home, Edward quickly grew into his place among the Turners. Not one of them was below five foot nine, and as his years grew older, so did his height. By middle school, it was unthinkable that he [i]wouldn't[/i] join the football team. As a high-school senior, Dave welcomed his younger brother with open arms, shielding the freshman from any would-be bullies until his brother found his place in the high school hierarchy.

Ed's propensity for sports didn't excuse him from his studies: Addie Turner, a schoolteacher herself, made sure that her sons studied well, and studied hard. Edward never showed the same inclination for STEM as his older brother, but their mutual interest in the outdoors formed a strong bond between the two young men. The family went camping almost weekly, and by his graduation, Edward had seen the entire country, from Yosemite to Mammoth Cave.

Throughout his youth, Edward always had his family to use as role models for himself. The Turners were friendly,  kind, and always looking for laughter in life. He saw the moral code of his mother and father, and adopted it unto himself. On the football team, others gravitated toward the principled young man, despite his sometimes inflexible opinions and pig-headed stubbornness.
[/indent][/hider]
[hider=College][indent]A surprise football scholarship saw Edward following his brother to Ball State University, where he majored in criminal justice, just as expected. Also unexpectedly, he decided to join his brother's fraternity, where he earned the name ET.

[hider=The Name][indent]"Easy there, buddy. Remember last night? If you puke on the walls again, Robbie's gonna throw a chair at you."

"Ah fuck off, Edward. You--you're not my gahdam dad."

"Listen to yourself, Diego: you slur your words any more and you might as well not talk at all."

"Hah, talk talk talk. You might as well my [i]ass[/i], Ed. Eddy. ET. Always gotta phone home, more like phone [i]drone[/i]. Hah! HAHA!" Diego nearly fell over from the laughter.

Edward couldn't help laughing too. He was a little buzzed too. "Heh, that's actually not bad, Diego. Hey, do me a favor man?"

"Sure bro, what's--yo what the fuck, man! Put me down!"

"Nah dude, ET is sending you home. Throw up in your own room!"

"You motherfucker, put me down! Or I'll..throw up in your hair."

"Diego, I'll fuckin' throw you out a window."
[/indent][/hider]
His willingness to get black-out trashed one night and be designated driver the next led to much popularity with his brothers. Junior and senior year saw ET become the president of his fraternity, a decent college footballer, and a 3.4 GPA criminal justice graduate. The next step was easy, of course: police academy. But not before Dave took him on a [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bnke-6ryHgg]trip[/url] to celebrate his college survival.

[hider=The Trip][indent]"Shut up, I saw you checking her out from a mile away." Dave grinned easily behind the wheel.

"Like fuck you did, man. ET laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his seat. "We ain't all as thirsty as your parched ass."

"Oh no, you're not getting away that easily, brother of mine." Dave shifted in his seat, and the V8 roared in the truck's hood. "I'm the older one, we know these things. Like when our little baby boy brothers drink with their eyes at a Montana diner."

"Yeah well, you're allowed to be wrong, Dave." ET rolled his eyes, barely holding back laughter. "How long we have left?"

Dave just snorted, reaching out to the radio. "Probably another five hours. GPS say six, but we have five hours to prove it wrong." The radio clicked [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ysFgElQtjI]on[/url], and ET groaned. "Dude, this is ten years old--how do you always find the weirdest shit to play?

"Listen here, buddy." Dave glanced in the rearview mirror. "When you drive, you can play your intellipop or whatever the rage is nowadays. Until then, I'm playing [i]classics[/i]. This song is nothing short of a miracle!"

"If we get to Glacier National without me killing you, that'd be a real miracle."

"Love you too, Eddie-pie."
[/indent][/hider][/indent][/hider]
[hider=Boys in Blue][indent] The two highlights of the police academy were the end, and Erin. They met halfway through, where she punched him in several unpleasant places during a spar. They were inseparable after that. For the next two years, they went through training and probation by each others sides. After being officially instated, ET proposed to her on the way back to their apartment.

After a quiet, quick ceremony, they moved on with their lives, ready to serve and protect. For years, they did just that, working alongside the department and the supers, trying to maintain order in a burning world. With sea levels rising, and climate change rampant, what used to be the Midwest saw a hefty influx of refugees.

Chicago, Cleveland, Detroit, and other cities grew massively in size. The coalition of states with these cities decided it would be simpler to pool their resources, and the "Midwestern City" initiative was launched in 2038. Both ET and Erin were asked to join the MC-PD, a SWAT-like peacekeeping force which traveled between the cities in the Midwestern Sprawl. The couple had no time for children, but they had one another, and that was enough.

In 2039, Ed's quiet routine was shattered out of the blue. To this day, he has no idea what caused him to manifest his abilities.

[hider=Manifestation][indent]"What was that, Kevin?"

"Didn't say anything, boss." The rookie took another bite out of the doughnut. "Thanks for the pick-me-up, though."

"Yeah, anytime..." ET strained his ear again. He was certain he'd heard something--

"Oy, you 'aving a stroke? I said 'take me out of your pocket!'.

Edward jumped. "I'll uh...gonna step out for a sec, Kevin. Sit tight."

"Aye cap'n. Sitting tight."

ET stepped out of the car with a frown on his face. "What the fuck is happening?" He felt his cell phone buzz, and he pulled it out almost automatically.

[i]Finally![/i] the voice said again. ET's phone dropped from shocked fingers to the ground. [i]Ow, bloody hell! You tryin' ta start something, mate? We'll fuckin' start something right here![/i]

"Oh, cool," ET said, stooping to pick up the phone. "I've cracked. I wondered if it would happen. All the stress, all the work, I--"

[i]Look, I don't know what you're on about, but I wanted to tell you that I'm gettin' knackered. You gonna charge me soon or what?[/i]

ET glanced down. Fifteen percent. "How did I--" he shook his head. "Hey Phone, call 'Mentalist'."

[i]Maybe I will, maybe I won't. You plannin' to ask nicely mate?[/i]

His eyes closed, and he inhaled a shaky breath. "Call Mentalist. Please?"

The voice didn't respond, but a moment later Mentalist's number popped up on the screen. "Hello, Mentalist? This is Officer Turner--we've met a few times? Yeah, that's right. Look, some Fweird shit is happening to me, and you were the first person I thought to call. Yeah, I can do that. Thanks. I'll be there."[/indent][/hider]

The rest is history. After his manifestation, ET suddenly became a person of great interest within the Midwestern Sprawl. They had their heroes, of course, but only a few were directly employed by the police. Even fewer had powers as useful to police operations as "Arbiter". For five years, he enjoyed a quasi-celebrity status, working with the FBI, CIA, even Interpol to catch hackers and high-tech criminals. Tech-based supervillains were another specialty of his, as more and more people sought to use the chaos of the world to their own ends.
[hr]
In 2042, a wave of crime unlike anything before swept the Midwestern Sprawl. A new drug called Zing hit the streets, turning users into walking EMP bursts as their bodies lit up from the inside out. A gang called Thunderhead followed on its heels, carrying out organized robberies in three different MC Districts simultaneously.

Someone in the gang knew about Arbiter and his abilities: a day after the first wave of robberies, an image popped up on ET's phone. A picture of Dave, bleeding and forced into a trunk. A message: [i]STAY HOME, HOTSHOT[/I]. The ice in ET's veins that day hasn't been matched since.

Of course he didn't stay home. That was ET's trigger to warpath, and throughout the next month he spent every waking moment hunting down Thunderhead's leaders. The fuckers who brought his brother, an innocent mechanic in Wisconsin, into a turf war. 

He found what he was looking for: the leader of the cult-turned-gang, a super calling himself "Corrector". A scientist and hypnotic influencer, Corrector had decided the world was rotted with sin and set about removing as many of the instigators--read: humans--as possible. Those who heard his voice while looking him in the eyes fell under a near unbreakable thrall. To ET's horror, he found himself up against innocents. Corrupted fathers and sisters and children who couldn't stop themselves from following Corrector into oblivion. 

They were not quiet in their adulation, and so subtlety was not Thunderhead's strong suit. Bombings, shootings, robberies--those were the calling card. Heroes from across the world were called in, but help would take too long to arrive. After a tip in September of that year, ET and his team moved on Corrector in Toledo.

[hider=Debriefing][indent]"Please state your name for the record, officer."

"Edward Turner. Arbiter."

"Officer Turner, we've met with you today to obtain a debriefing for the MC-PD chief of police, state governors, and the congressional committee assigned to this event. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Start from the beginning and walk us through what happened, if you would. Take your time."

"Yes, sir. Common knowledge: you already knew that we had located Corrector--Lars Jensen--in Toldeo two weeks ago. Superhero reinforcement was coming, but we had learned of Jensen's plan to take Toldeo off the map, and we couldn't wait around for reinforcement. Something about Zing in the gas lines. Don't know, Inspector. I'm not a scientist."

"Who authorized the mission? Were you acting against any standing orders?"

"No, sir. Chief Brandt gave us permission to engage. As I'm sure he's told you, my team was best equipped to handle superheroes, given my...abilities, and the training and gear provided to my team."

"I'm aware of your abilities, Officer Turner. We have taken proper precautions to mitigate them in this debriefing, such that the higher-ups have no reason to doubt what you tell us here."

"It's not like I'm a fucking suspect, am I?" A sigh. "I apologize, inspector. I'm keyed up right now."

"That's all right, Turner. Please continue."

"Excuse my French, but Toldeo was a shitshow we were attacked as soon as we went in, and if we hadn't been driving ancient junkers pulled out of an evidence lot, we would have been dead in the water from the start. The smart people had locked their doors and hunkered down. The riot police were doing their best, but maniacal zealots are a tough crowd.

"We had a theory that taking out Corrector would break his hold on everyone else. We had an idea of where he'd be. We just had to find him. I'll skip the legwork, since it's in my report--most of this shit is, actually--and tell you that we found him. Well, I found him. Followed the trail of dead machinery and ended up in an old warehouse outside of town. Jensen was there."

"There was a shoot on sight order for Lars Jensen. Why did you hold your fire, as the e-ballistics report said?"

"Hah! Don't give me that bullshit. You know as well as I do that they got to someone in the Ruger-HK Operations division. Smartguns down mean shit when the software on them shuts down."

"Are you not able to...speak to firearms? Couldn't you have convinced it to work?"

"Not if it isn't fucking [i]on[/i], agent. This is starting to seem a lot like an interrogation."

"We just want the facts, Officer Turner."

"Yeah well, the [i]facts[/i] are that the fucker turned my brother into one of his drones. Even if I could have got the damn gun working, you can't honestly tell me that I was supposed to shoot my own brother in cold blood."

"We all must do unpleasant things for the greater good, Officer. Please con--"

"The greater good? Are you [i]fucking[/i] serious? Was t-boning my brother and Corrector off a fucking BRIDGE not enough greater good for you? Was my saving the entire population of fucking [i]Toldeo[/i] not enough GREATER GOOD for you? Who the [i]FUCK[/i] do you think you are?"

"Officer Turner, I must ask that you--"

"No, you fucking piece of shit! Have you ever lost a single god damn person in your life?" A dry heave. "Do you have a sibling? H-have you seen their dead fucking eyes staring at you as they fall to their fucking death? D-don't. [i]Fucking[/i]. Tell me to do anything, you--"

[b][i]RECORDING END.[/i][/b][/indent][/hider][/indent][/hider]
[hider=Recent Times][indent]After the Thunderhead incident, the MC-PD was given far more funding to avoid any future repeats. Top of the line equipment and gear. Arbiter was given the GAB-V3 suit and his new car a few months after the incident, and for the past five years, he has been trying to recover. Poorly. Erin did her best, but in the end she couldn't stay with someone so blatantly self destructive. Edward isn't sure where she left to. Maybe Cedar Fort or NYC.

That was the catalyst to start him back toward his feet. Too little, too late for their marriage, but just in time to save ET's liver from total annihilation. With a little bit of luck, he might [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__oZ-LYZ8pU]make it back[/url] to a functioning adult in a few years. 

For now, though...[/indent][/hider]

[b]Personality:[/b]
[indent]ET had a brother once. He's dead now, and it was ET's fault. That memory is years old, but still fresh as yesterday. It colors his world, draining the joy from his work, his hobbies, and his social life. Despite this, ET is a stubborn bastard, and the saying "time heals all wounds" is his modus operandi. His brother would have beat his ass for moping so much. 

He goes to therapy (court-ordered, of course), and lives life one day at a time. Going through the motions, and all that. He is stubborn, and at the stage in his life where keeping his mind open to differing opinions is getting a little bit harder.

Before Dave's death, ET was the life of any party. That former fraternity president shines through on the good days; a dash of confidence bolstering his jovial laugh and a friendly smile. Professional, but quick to joke. He always had a listening ear for anyone who needed it, and a quick turn of phrase to bring a smile to their face. 

Despite his slightly over-the-top actions in college and the recent slippage of his ethics, Ed has always possessed a strong sense of morality. In college he had another nickname: "Judge Turner". Constantly stopping others from making mistakes, and talking his fraternity brothers out of doing things that were unacceptable to his moral code (being big and built helped give ET's words some merit with his brothers). People went to his parties to enjoy themselves, and it was the responsibility of everyone hosting the party to protect the party-goers from unfavorable events.

Most of that is gone now. The decisions he made that led to his brother's death have left him more...flexible in where the line is drawn. The result matters more now, and making excuses for his actions is easier than reining them in. A gangbanger with a broken leg is less likely to run away and kill someone's brother, after all. The computer is on his side, anyway: any record of wrongdoing tends to vanish without notice.

Maybe in the future, Ed will rediscover the paragon he used to be. Until then, the rugged stubborn exterior works well enough to hide the internal struggle. The therapy is helping, and an inkling of the former social butterfly is coming through. And on the bad days, alcohol is always a good patch his self-loathing, right?
[/indent]

[b]Misc Facts:[/b]
[indent]Addie and James Turner no longer live in the Midwest. ET convinced his parents to retire to Colorado when the Midwestern Sprawl started getting dangerous.

He is divorced from a fellow police officer.

He starts and stops going to AA meetings with some frequency.

His therapist's name is Sonya, a thirty-five year old woman with a wife, a child of her own, and a devilish wit. She keeps him honest.

Unlike many of the other heroes, Edward has always been one-hundred percent a team player. Not powerful enough to go solo, he relies on his experience, wit, gear, and training as much as his powers.[/indent]

[b]Relationship with Hex:[/b] 
[indent]Frankly, ET hardly knew Hex. The man was a minor presence in the Midwestern Sprawl, and never really had anything to do with ET and his team. As a pre-powered younger officer, Hex pulled him out of more than a few tight spots, supporting the fledgling MC-PD in its struggle to maintain order. Other than that, they were effectively strangers.[/indent][/hider][hr]

Character List:
ET
Gabbie - ET's armor suit/cell phone
Dave - ET's car/laptop
Captain Ong - ET's superior
Stardust's cellphone - friendly, apologetic for Maysah. Easily convinced.
The Tower's cybernetics - dapper, calm, and polite, but unwaveringly loyal to Tower.