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Yeah, I finished up my first draft already. Lemme know if you have any issues with it.
22 | Human | Male | Security/Weapons Tech/Manual labor
Character Post
22 | Human | Male | Security/Weapons Tech/Manual labor
Character Post
A lone human walks through the streets of Hammer City, a crime-ridden megacity on a planet sitting on the outskirts of a major junk field. He nods to a few groups of people that he's familiar with, but he only stops at the sight of a familiar figure. An older gangster, one of relatively legendary status around town. He catches the can of soda tossed to him and leans up against the concrete wall beside his friend and mentor.
"Out by yourself again, Felix?"
"Don't call me that. Had a fight with Dad again."
"Can't say I'm surprised."
They stand in silence for a bit, listening to the sounds of the city nightlife. After a while, the younger gangster speaks up.
"So, Ultra..."
"Yeah?"
"Does the kinda stuff you do ever... weigh on you? All the fighting and stuff?"
"Not really. I follow a code, y'know. Protects me from moral quandaries like that."
"Just been thinking about it lately. 'Specially when I think about my dad."
"Ain't this stuff you should talk about with that shrink?"
"Shaddup. Mom says it's good for me to talk to her."
"Hey, man. I didn't say nothing."
With that, the young man sighs. "I'll catch you around." He pushes off the wall, adjusting his grip on the guitar case slung behind his shoulder. Ultra nods farewell. As the young gangster walked away, he couldn't help but feel a bit unsatisfied with the conversation. He wasn't sure what he'd wanted from it, but he couldn't deny that he was looking for an offer of help, or something. He was sick of this city, and Ultra had been one of the few people he knew that went out of their way to help him. On a whim, he diverted from his regular route around the city to go stop by the spaceport docks.
It wasn't the first time he'd been there, but it still wasn't a part of town he frequented. That probably had something to do with it primarily being the territory of Queen's gang, who were generally at odds with both his father's organization and the group of guitar-wielding bruisers he hung with. Still, he liked watching the massive cruisers slowly drift into the air, or the swarms of smaller craft fluttering into orbit on the way to their next stop. He spent a long while on an old concrete bench, thinking about the lives of people that don't have to get tired of looking at the same old city their whole lives. As the sun started to rise above the horizon, he was pulled out of his thoughts rather suddenly by a familiar voice behind him.
"Figured I'd see you here, after what you were saying earlier."
The young gangster stayed silent a bit, not sure why Ultra had bothered tracking him down so soon after their chat. The older gangster eventually chuckled slightly, taking a seat beside him.
"If you want, I could help you get off world. I know a few guys that left town to make something bigger of themselves back in the day."
He didn't respond immediately, thinking things over in his head. Ultra had been looking out for him for years, but he generally wasn't too generous with anything but advice.
"Why would you go that far for me? I don't trust charity."
"Not a bad policy. I do want something in return, but it's nothing major."
"...Fine, I'll bite. What is it?"
"You don't like your name 'cuz your dad gave it to you, right? Then I want you to take mine."
"Hell you mean by that?"
"I want you to be Ultra from now on. I wasn't the first Ultra, and I don't want to be the last."
"You seriously want to help me? I'm not sure I have much to offer outside the gang."
"I'm sure you'll figure something out. You can carry cargo crates, if nothing else.
"Fine. If you really mean it, I'll be Ultra for you. Whatever that means."
"It'll mean whatever you make it mean. That's the great thing about being Ultra."
The younger Ultra chuckled as he looked out at a massive cargo freighter dropping out of orbit. "I'm counting on you, then. Get me outta here."
"Out by yourself again, Felix?"
"Don't call me that. Had a fight with Dad again."
"Can't say I'm surprised."
They stand in silence for a bit, listening to the sounds of the city nightlife. After a while, the younger gangster speaks up.
"So, Ultra..."
"Yeah?"
"Does the kinda stuff you do ever... weigh on you? All the fighting and stuff?"
"Not really. I follow a code, y'know. Protects me from moral quandaries like that."
"Just been thinking about it lately. 'Specially when I think about my dad."
"Ain't this stuff you should talk about with that shrink?"
"Shaddup. Mom says it's good for me to talk to her."
"Hey, man. I didn't say nothing."
With that, the young man sighs. "I'll catch you around." He pushes off the wall, adjusting his grip on the guitar case slung behind his shoulder. Ultra nods farewell. As the young gangster walked away, he couldn't help but feel a bit unsatisfied with the conversation. He wasn't sure what he'd wanted from it, but he couldn't deny that he was looking for an offer of help, or something. He was sick of this city, and Ultra had been one of the few people he knew that went out of their way to help him. On a whim, he diverted from his regular route around the city to go stop by the spaceport docks.
It wasn't the first time he'd been there, but it still wasn't a part of town he frequented. That probably had something to do with it primarily being the territory of Queen's gang, who were generally at odds with both his father's organization and the group of guitar-wielding bruisers he hung with. Still, he liked watching the massive cruisers slowly drift into the air, or the swarms of smaller craft fluttering into orbit on the way to their next stop. He spent a long while on an old concrete bench, thinking about the lives of people that don't have to get tired of looking at the same old city their whole lives. As the sun started to rise above the horizon, he was pulled out of his thoughts rather suddenly by a familiar voice behind him.
"Figured I'd see you here, after what you were saying earlier."
The young gangster stayed silent a bit, not sure why Ultra had bothered tracking him down so soon after their chat. The older gangster eventually chuckled slightly, taking a seat beside him.
"If you want, I could help you get off world. I know a few guys that left town to make something bigger of themselves back in the day."
He didn't respond immediately, thinking things over in his head. Ultra had been looking out for him for years, but he generally wasn't too generous with anything but advice.
"Why would you go that far for me? I don't trust charity."
"Not a bad policy. I do want something in return, but it's nothing major."
"...Fine, I'll bite. What is it?"
"You don't like your name 'cuz your dad gave it to you, right? Then I want you to take mine."
"Hell you mean by that?"
"I want you to be Ultra from now on. I wasn't the first Ultra, and I don't want to be the last."
"You seriously want to help me? I'm not sure I have much to offer outside the gang."
"I'm sure you'll figure something out. You can carry cargo crates, if nothing else.
"Fine. If you really mean it, I'll be Ultra for you. Whatever that means."
"It'll mean whatever you make it mean. That's the great thing about being Ultra."
The younger Ultra chuckled as he looked out at a massive cargo freighter dropping out of orbit. "I'm counting on you, then. Get me outta here."
Character Ties
1) TBD later if accepted. Do not fill out.
2) TBD later if accepted. Do not fill out.
2) TBD later if accepted. Do not fill out.
Inventory
1) 1) The Axe- A modified electric guitar, kitted with a kinetic modulator and sturdier materials. Basically a sledgehammer.
2) Sawed-off shotgun
3) Golden cigarette lighter
2) Sawed-off shotgun
3) Golden cigarette lighter