Name: Malachy Connors
Age: 23
Height: 5’6
Weight: 151 lbs
Nationality: French American
Appearance: Somewhat scruffy looking, Malachy has curly brown hair reaching his shoulders, unkempt with a mullet, underneath a peaked cap. Slightly flat end nose from a time he got punched in the face, slight stubble. He wears a mottled leather jacket with some harder plastic shoulder pads and elbow pads over a grimy red shirt, a pair of black leather fingerless gloves and a single silver ring on his left pointer finger. He wears a heavy duty belt with a change dispenser and multiple pouch pockets over brown slacks and leather boots with metal toecaps.
Bio: Malachy was born to Pierre and Francine Connors in Paris, a pair of gypsies etching out the meekest of livings in the “cour de miracles.” They sold small bits of tech they stole and scavenged from scrapyards and shop trash cans, the only thing that could give them the smallest profit in their life of poverty. Malachy was brought into the ‘family business’ and quickly picked up on repairs. He noticed patterns in-between devices and actually started to work on them when he had a hand free from his parent’s usual work. Eventually, his parents were run down during a police raid on a cyber terrorist gang hiding underneath Notre Dame, leaving Malachy alone.
In a stroke of luck, he managed to get some work in a home devices manufacturing company, a worker in Zillion Corp’s factories as a simple drone at the conveyor belt. It was underpaid and dangerous, but it gave him enough to continue carving out a meagre existence. He was eventually promoted after showing his skills and became a delivery driver, despite not being licenced to drive and having only brief training from a senior member of staff. He continued with this job and improved his driving skills, often becoming reckless when he drove, to the point where he crashed a shipment and fled the country when Zillion Corp sent out hired goons to kill him for his mistake.
He fled to the USA and hid out there, taking a job as a taxi driver for a little while until he was in his 20’s, got sick of his employers and broke one of their knees before quitting in his entirety. He took out a heavy lone from the bank with an idea in his head to set up his own single manned taxi service and work for himself. Thus, the “Pidgeonhole Taxi Service” was born. Malachy made a name for himself as the ‘winged chariot’ by escorting paying customers through even the most dangerous of terrain, no matter what their story. However, the debt collectors for his loan continued to hound him even as he enjoyed his success. Thus, he turned to a last resort option, the Risk Rally, with his streetwise taxi driving skills and a souped up cab, intent to take it all the way and pay off his debts, and maybe have a little extra for a nice place on the west end of town.
Theme: youtube.com/watch?v=eyRoXZDtKzo 
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Ariamis,
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