19 year old Male Human, mundane
Concept
Street Dodger, shell games, pickpocket, any other sort of related acts.

Description
An unruly mass of brown hair meets you're gaze, "ahem", looking down you see the thin face below this mane. He is thin, but not gaunt, his eyes the same basic shade of brown as the hair, with a similar sort of... oily quality to both. He smiles easily most of the time, not always in a sincere way though. He seems to have some form of perpetual stubble, forming a patch on the end of his chin. He is young, but looks weary, as though always being a little short of sleep. When not running a shell game, or some other similar form of dodge, he usually in a sort of reclining posture, slumped against a wall or post if standing, or slouched down in chair. He is whip thin otherwise, and seems to have some nervous inner energy working, constantly. He tends to fidget occasionally, often cracking various joints in a constantly changing barrage of clicks and pops. His clothing is also rather neutral, usually a lot of brown and some black. The clothes aren't new, but they appear to be in good shape, especially the shoes, a pair of hikers that are of a quality, a little too nice for this neighborhood.

Background
The flower of youth, what a sweet notion, my flower got plucked when I was thirteen, by a "TIG" (Training Instructor and Life Guidance Councilor) who had a thing for boy flowers. I got sent to the camp as an alternative to serving the 1500 hours of society restitution activities I had acquired in school and in two trips to see the youth council. It was determined that I had a "sharp wit" and a rebellious bent toward authority, as a psychological and social retaliation against my estranged father. My biggest problem with authority was that everyone was always in authority over me, when you are always the smallest person in the area, well other kids aren't as advanced thinkers as the youth council.

The next few years weren't a lot of improvement, full incarceration for breaking and entering left me in for more of the same, a lot more. I fought when I could, always loosing, but time in medical holding was always better than the normal lockup. I found my best option was usually to run when I could, rare as that option is inside, it has served me well outside. I continued to deal with my best two weapons, a smart mouth and a quick thought. My mouth got me into as much trouble as my mind could try to keep me out of, lucky for me, on my last lock up, the med center wasn't as crooked as most and provided dental implants as replacements before I was released.

After a few more times in and out of lockup, I steered clear of any more B&E. I discovered that I had hands as quick as my feet and working outside gives room to run if the deal goes wrong. I floated around, working with a couple different partners as a snatch and fly operation or operator and shill in some form of shell game. Running a dodge in ganger territory isn't usually too dangerous, as long as you pay some form of protection, and staying clear of the better sectors, keeps Lonestar off of you.

Everything seemed to be going smooth, till all hell broke loose. The gangs were constantly at a stand off in the barrens, the big boys ruled the roost, the second tiers tried to act like they did too, and the rest kept an unease peace of knowledge that an all out war would cost too much for all involved, until the Kingsgate wars broke out. Somewhere in all this my latest partner, a somewhat savvy orc I knew only as “Pops�, had disappeared. I think he must have gotten caught in the 8's explosion, cost me too, he was going to score us some nova, and my stash is tapped.

Most of Twiggs' skill focus will be geared towards his unique niche, (palming, perception, running, and shadowing) with some skills in street etiquette, negotiation, con. (Haven't decided on cyber if any yet)

Concept
Name: Twitch
Race: Human
Age: 23

Background:

Twitch was the son of Mike and Dawn Jackson. Mike was a pharma-synth representative and Dawn was a wage slave at a different company. Twitch grew up as Clive and excelled at science, especially chemistry, which his dad pushed. At the age of 14 Twitch lost his mother who died in a car accident, this sent his dad into depression. Life moved on as it usually does. His mother’s death and dad’s depression pushed him inside a shell which his output was school.

After he left school he got a medical internship geared towards being a pharmacist. He excelled at it and really enjoyed researching the different reactions to chemicals in the body. He became a habitual user of ((Can’t remember the drug’s name, is in arsenal the drug that gives you an auto-addiction to it will fill in the info when I get home)) as well as G3 for the slight edges it gave him. Life was good…

His dad was laid out on the floor when he got home, a syringe next to him. OD’d the coroner pronounced it. Now being an orphan shook Twitch’s entire life he moved from the mild stimulants to different drugs, stealing from work he started doing drug production selling his excess to anyone who wanted it. This lasted for about 6 months before being found out on a routine audit on the chemical cupboards. He was tossed out of the program and without any other skills he moved onto street production. This lead to a shit time for Twitch, being from a relatively sheltered upbringing, he never met the ‘cream’ of society. He quickly picked up skills for survival using what he had at hand, chemicals and knowledge of productions. He began using drug cocktails for combat drugs to keep himself alive, but the come down was a full on crash leaving him. He tried to keep the use to a minimum. He is trying to get into a gang for some protection and so he can spread his operation a bit.

Details:
This is the first idea to him, a guy that’s fallen from his life. Will have high mental logic middle rest of the stats, skills in chemistry ((active version if you’re running the rules that it has to be)) and other normal skills but not many combat skills. I probably will throw up a different version where he comes from the streets rather than school. But this is a quick write up while at work.

Malice aforethought, n (law, legal term)
A predetermination to commit an act without legal justification or excuse. A malicious design to injure. An intent, at the time of a killing, willfully to take the life of a human being, or an intent willfully to act in callous and wanton disregard of
the consequences to human life; but malice aforethought does not necessarily imply any ill will, spite or hatred towards the individual killed.
West's Encyclopedia of American Law, edition 2. Copyright 2008 The Gale Group, Inc. All rights reserved.

The children are gone. In many ways I did kill them. I had no hand in it and there was nothing I could have done to prevent it and I certainly did not bear them any ill will, but kill them I did. It is my fault for the simple fact that I didn't
see it coming, that I even believed them to be safe there. Maybe it was even my fault from the beginning for allowing them to come near to me at all. They still might have died, and their deaths still would have been pointless and sad but it wouldn't have been so open and divested.

Fate is cruel. Or no, not fate. Rather She is. Even now while I try to shield my mind from Her in grief, I can hear the whispering. I heard nothing when they died. Nothing when those things teared through them. Nothing when they penetrated the den and slaughtered the little ones. I can hear her trying to console me, but I violently push the faint voice to the back of my head.

You might think I am mad now. Hearing strange voices is probably as bad as talking to myself. Hell, there are times I wish I were just one of the plain crazy hobos littering the streets. But things are a bit more complicated for me. And I am too smart dressed to be a bum anyway. Truth be told is, I am a bona fide mage. And that remarkably medication-resistant voice is not a bad case of schizophrenia but rather the caring hum of my Mentor. My Totem, for those of you fictional listeners that are only familiar with the Hollywood slang of it. I know many might kill or even do worse in hopes of acquiring the "gifts" that I have but let me tell you, they ruined my life.

I had a promising career. I graduated from a renowned law school. I immediately got taken under the wings of a seasoned attorney. I had it made. I had a quick tongue and a sharp wit. And best of all I was down-right ruthless. I didn't care whether my clientele was innocent or not. As long as i got paid to defend them that's what I did.
Then She came. You see, I am a sleepyhead, so to speak. It is very rare for a dormant magical gift to awaken after the 20th birthday, but it does happen. And I was "lucky".

It started with mild headaches and restless nights full of disconcerting dreams. They gradually got worse until I was chucking sleeping pills like breath mints. Then from time to time I would have strong feelings of deja-vu or my vision would become royally screwed up like I was having a particularly bad trip. That stuff reached its peak in midnight out-of-body experiences. Or at least at that time that was what I thought it was. Then came the day in court when the visions started.

It is one thing to present your defendant if you only mildly suspect he might have done it in the back of your head. Try doing that if you have visions of his victim's dying breaths and last moments full of excrutiating pain.
Turns out that my current client at that time was an exceedingly sick fellow. I saw things the prosecution itself would not have dared to pin on him. At that point my memory becomes a bit fuzzy. I learned two things later though.
The first was, that I apparently puked my guts out. For some reason I still remember that I had a salmon and cress sandwich that morning. The second thing was the uncomfortable one. As it turned out, my "testimony" earned my client the chair. And not the comfy one in the attorney's lounge. That alone was not a bad thing. Thinking back on those first visions and the things he did, they still make me squirm. And that is after all what I have witnessed in this godforsaken hellhole. The really bad part happened afterwards.

Turns out that intentionally getting my client condemned was something my Seniors at the office did rather not enjoy.
Apparently they also took offense at the nature of my revelations. So, declaring me mentally ill and unstable, i got handed the pink slip and got kicked out of the office. Also, it seemed like that sick, soon to be executed, ex-client of mine had rather techno-versatile friends. Because the next thing i knew my bank accounts had been emptied and i almost bit the dust twice when first my car and then my whole flat exploded. I took the hint and made myself scarce.

Well, one thing led to another, and before I knew it I was the proud owner of my very own cardboard in the friendly neighbourhood of Redmond. At that point I was still wearing the same tuxedo as in the courtroom, mind you. Just an amusing anecdote. I somehow managed to shake my mortal foes (I deeply suspect my Mentor had something to do with that. She taught me a lot of things, even when I was less than willing to listen) and for quite some time I was, not exactly happy, but less eager to throw myself from a highway.
I somehow found myself to be the patron of a bunch of half starved street kids, giving my life a resemblance of purpose I guess. Maybe I tried to do some good for once, although I certainly never thought about it that way. But for some time life was as good as it probably gets around here. And for some time even She was mercifully silent. Then Black October came and shook the Barrens. I believed my little ones to be safe, and for weeks we never even saw fighting. Then came Halloween. And while I was out trying to scrunch up some sweets, because a few of the brats wouldn't shut up about it, something raided our hideout.

I don't need to look at them with my inner eyes in order to know what it was. I don't even dare to. I fear the residue pain and suffering that lingers on those lifeless and emptied out puppets would crush me. I can hear her whispering again now. Urging me onward. I gladly oblige this time.

William Callahan.

Will is an odd case. A defense attorney turned street wizard, he still somewhat resents his gifts and clings to memories of his former life. Tradition-wise he would very probably be a classic hermetic, with a slightly modified version of the Dark King Mentorspirit. Think Death of the Endless if anyone is familiar with The Sandman series.

He'll probably be a veteran mage as far as the Gutter mechanics allow, with a spell list mainly composed of health spells like heal, antidote or fast and other things that primarily would be useful for his role as a foster father of a bunch of late street kids. He might have the odd manipulation spell like Shape Concrete and one spell of the combat school at most for defense purposes. Skill-wise and Attribute-wise he will have high charisma and logic, paired with a bunch of knowledge skills related to his former profession and a moderately high influence group. Throw in a point in athletic with a golf specialization.

I still picture him running around in his old actioneer business suit and with a suitcase.

At the beginning of the game his actions all will carry a certain amount of fatality. He deeply blames himself and his passiveness for the deaths of his charges. The relation with his mentor will probably suffer from this too. On the one hand he understands her basic principles about life and death, the inevitability of which and the meaning that underlies it. But at the same time he deeply suspects that she might have purposefully steered him into this position to exactly "make her point clear", and he can't yet forgive her for that.

Will Callahan

Human - 0bp

Positive Qualities(-20bp):
-Magician -15bp
-Mentor (Dark King) -5bp
-Home Turf -0bp (this one actually seems kind of off, but i guess i can refrain from using it at the beginning)

Negative Qualities(+35bp):
-SINner +5bp
-Another +30bp worth (sadly i need this, and i already have a few things in mind)

Attributes(-195bp):

Body 3 -20bp
Agility 2 -10bp
Reaction 2 -10bp
Strength 2 -10bp

Charisma 5 -40bp
Intuition 3 -20bp
Logic 5 -40bp
Willpower 3 -20bp

Edge 2 -0bp
Magic 2 -25bp
Essence 6


Action Skills(-110):
- Sorcery Group 3 -30bp
- Conjuring Group 3 -30bp
- Assensing 2 -8bp
- Astral Combat 1 -4bp

- Influence Group 3 -30bp
- Perception 1 -4bp
- Pilot Ground Craft 1 -4bp

Spells(6x3bp, -18bp)
-Heal
-Cure disease
-Nutrition
-Alleviate Allergy
-Stunbolt/Powerbolt
-Foreboding

Knowledge Skills (24bp free)

This currently leaves me with 2bp left i think.

The small warehouse was damp and dark. Scarcely illuminated by shards of light entering through boarded up windows, like bright wounds in the shadows. In the back of the hall where the man was crouching the darkness was almost tangible and the only source of faint light was the glowing tip of his cigarette.
Now and then he would draw on it, and its extending glow would briefly reveal dark blotches and stains on the ground. If he inhaled particularly deep the orange light would wash over several lifeless bodies a few feet away. At those times you would have just enough time to note their disconcerting shapes and the weird angles of their limbs before the shadows would mercifully swallow them up again.

"It wasn't your fault, you know?"

A pale girl with black hair was standing a few meters behind him in one of the stripes of light.

"I told them it was safe. It obviously wasn't. I shouldn't have left them alone."
"I might as well have killed them myself."

The girl looked up from him to a sliver of almost obscenely blue sky in one of the windows.

"There was no way you could have known this would happen."

The man got up and crumbled the still glowing cigarette butt in his fist.

"You knew."

The girl hesitated for a moment and absentmindedly touched the silver ankh hanging around her neck.

"Their time had come."

"So that's what this is to you then? One big fragging parable?"

The girl pursed her lips and stared at him defiantly.

"That hurt, you know?"

The man strode past her towards the exit of the warehouse.

"Like I care right now."

Outside he blinked into the dawning light of All Saint's Day. Overshadowing his eyes with one hand his other searched through the pockets of his business suit. The suit had certainly seen better days, once midnight black and elegant it was now dusty and torn. Yet it was still a pretty smart suit and it made him look slightly out of place here in Kingsgate. His hand finally found what it was looking for and procured a crumbled pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out with his lips and then fingered for his lighter.

"What are you going to do now? You certainly don't look like you want to hear my advice any time soon."

The girl was behind him leaning against the splintered doorway.

"Your advice was what got me into this situation in the first place, so no thank you, My Lady."

He fumbled the lighter open with one hand and lighted his cigarette. The girl frowned.

"It was you that came to me for counsel and help."

The man barked a short laughter. "Yeah, right."

"It was your soul that was suffering from all that injustice and sanctimony you witnessed in your life. And it cried out to me."

The man combed his slightly longer black hair back with his hand and looked at his desolate surroundings.

"Well, you certainly helped to improve my standard of living then."

The girl smiled sadly.

"That wasn't what I meant, and in your heart you know it. You just can't admit it to yourself."

The man glared at her, but before he could answer there was a wavering next to him as if the air had become liquid at that place and something had just upset the surface. A moment later a small and bright goldfish hopped out of it and swam through the air to the man. He seemed to listen to the fish for a moment, then nodded and the little thing jumped back into the air and vanished with a barely audible plop.

"You heard him, Will. So what are you going to do? You will probably need others."

The man loosened the knot of his tie and started walking away from the warehouse with his hands deeply buried in the pockets of his pants. The girl sighed and then watched him until he vanished around the corner. From behind her in the back of the warehouse in the shadow she could hear the questioning voices of children. She turned around with a half-smile.

"I know he is stubborn. But, you know him. He'll come around."

Then she walked back into the building, and after a few feet the shadows seemed to rise up and swallow her and the voices.

English N
Japanese 3
Latin (Legal terms) 2
UCAS Law (PK) 4
Rhetorics (PK) 2
Mathematics (AK) 3
Psychology (AK) 3
Magical Theory (PK for a Hermetic mage? Not quite sure) 3
Philosophy of Life and Death (IK) 2
Scavenging (SK) 1
Kingsgate Area Knowledge (SK) 1

Personality
"I'm simple fellow, omae. Living in the street makes you to be simple, don't you think? We all live day by day using whatever necessary and whatever we have to survive this harsh place we call home. Most of people, including me sometimes, become too simple. In my opinion, most of us are just an animal, using our instinct and muscle, instead brain to survive to see the next day."

He is cynical, who believes himself as realist, and put on the mask of optimist.

Description
"What do you wanna know? You've seen me and heard me. What else do you want to know more?"

He's an average guy that doesn't stick out too much from any physical aspect. He's about 2 meters in height, have dark skin, shaved head. But besides that no one really remembers anything else about him after seeing him just once.

That is just from looking at him. Once you had some conversation with him, however, those description changes drastically, depends what kind of mask he put on.

He believes that interacting with others is kind of game he can play, and plays well. He may act as if he's just someone that came too far from his safe house in the bell, just to taste the "edge," or street hardened street ganger with no fear of whom to die in the fight.

Sometimes, if he feels cheep, he'll use personafix.

Quotes

Background
1. Where and in what kind of environment did your character grow up?
"Shelter at the Catholic church of St. Charles. Yeah, I that's the one in the Black Plague's turf. It wasn't too bad. Of course I did get beat up a lot by looking like human."

He's born in Nov. 26th of 2050 at the shelter of Catholic church of St. Charles. He's life wasn't too bad living in the shelter and church, getting some degree of education was possible in the church and food wasn't tasty, but at least there were food to eat. So, all in all, he's youth wasn't too harsh, although he's human resemblance put him in a lot of trouble as well as lot of beat up. But at least he had his parents with him almost all the time.

2. What are your character’s relations with their family? (Does your character keep in touch? Where are they now?)
"My family? There are no family living in the street, omae."

His biological parents, both are Black Plague members, are long dead. Both of them had been infected with HMHVV in '57 got killed by "family" members, when they have found out. He saw the whole event when he was only 6, and he still silently hates all Black Plagues.

He now believes there are truly no "family" in the street. Only "packs" of animals, who's interests are for themselves only. He knows he's only one of the animal of the street too.

3. Does your character have an ethnic background? (Is it relevant to them?)
"Well, you see my skin? This ain't too much tan or spray-on body color, you know?"

He's not sure of his true ethnic background. Although he believes he's descendent of African American.

Appearance
4. What does your character look like?
He stands tall at 198 cm, with lean and toned body shape. Although he looks as if human, he is an elf. Only elfish trait he got is sharp facial features, but that can be done with cosmetic surgery now days, plus he does lot of cosmetic surgery to go with the current trend, he's not even sure what he's real face looks like anymore.

5. What does your character dress like?
Most time he'll be dressed in some not-too-restricting cloth, jeans and long-sleeve shirts are his usual dress code. He did own lot of clothing 2 years ago, but right now, only cloth he got is one that he's wearing currently, which is black combat boot, dark and loose jean, long-sleeve shirt, lined coat, and sunglass. During the down time, if he has money to blow, he'll most likely to spend on cloth to expand his choice.

6. What are your character’s physical quirks?
When in conversation, he does use lot of facial expression and body movement.

Skills, attributes, resources
7. What did your character always want to be? (How did they go about getting this job/position/ability/image? Did they succeed?)
When he left the Church of St. Charles, he did what he can to survive. Selling body was what he could do best at the time, so he did just that. On the occasion he had better job at playing some actor roll, mostly extras on the porn sim, and he had this dream about becoming the actual actor sometime. While he knows it's too damn hard to become an actor in sim movies, he did go to the auditions many many times, but all got rejected. Which lead him to make his own sim movies (mostly porn) starting himself. Selling these armature sim movies was not bad, but didn't bring the money as he wanted to. That's when he decides to make BTL (mostly dreamchip) and start producing it. He gave up on his dream to be an actor now.

8. Where and how did your character learn their Active and Knowledge Skills?
Most skills are learned through out living in the street. He has learned the combat and physical skills when he was fighting to survive in the street. Social skills, when he was selling body and acting and technical skills when he was producing BTL and Sim porn.

9. Where and how did your character get their major equipment and ‘ware?
He doesn't own much of gear now. Only thing he have right now are set of cloth, bike (which he stole after leaving prison), and low-end commlink he just picked up from pawn shop. He doesn't have any cyberwares yet, but he met a cell mate who knew someone in the Redmond who had connection with this street doc and have agreement to install cyberwares once he gets to the town.

10. Where and in what kind of place does your character currently live?
He used to live in Evergreen Height APT, paying the protection fees to local gang. Now, he doesn't know where to live, he hopes he'll be able to go back to same place.

11. Who are your character’s contacts? (How did they become contacts? Why do they still talk to your character?)
Street Doc, who'll do the cyberware implents once he's in the town.

12. Who are your character’s enemies? (How did they become your character’s enemies?)
He doesn't like Plagues and there belief. Most of all, he hates Father Ron for implanting that stupid ideas to the gang.

13. For Awakened characters, how did your character learn their magic? For non-Awakened characters, how does your character feel about magic?
Magic in the show biz is great. But if I ever see a mage out on the open street, I'll be cautious.

Personality
14. What are your character’s personality quirks?
Besides hiding behind masks of other persona, none.

15. What are your character’s likes and dislikes?
He loves sex and sim movies. Dislikes Plagues. Other than that, he can live with almost anything street life may throw at him.

16. What is your character’s moral code?
He's moral code is 7 deadly sins and opposite of 10 commandments.

17. Does your character have personal beliefs?
He now believes there are truly no "family" in the street. Only "packs" of animals, who's interests are for themselves only. He knows he's only one of the animal of the street too.

18. What are your character’s personal motivations?
He's motivation to live and survive in the street is to kill Father Ron. Or better, make him see he's idea in the Plagues are fault, thus his life are too.

Running with the gang
19. Why does your character run with the gang?
He hasn’t run with the gang yet. He'll be coming home, found out he's protectors are gone, and starts recruiting. He decides to run with the gang for the protection, and many be his skill in computer and BTL production will make him little stronger animal to survive in the street.

20. When and how did your character join the gang?
Never joined the gang yet.

21. How does your character contribute to the gang? What is his role; not just in terms of how he/she makes money, but where does he/she fit in the social hierarchy?
He can give them BTL operation as well as Counterfeit operation.

22. What would make your character ever leave the gang?
He'll leave when he sees they are no longer benefit to his survival.

23. How does your character feel about their life in the gutter as part of a street gang? What is their view of the rest of the world? (i.e. Non-gangers)
He now believes there is truly no "family" in the street. Only "packs" of animals, whose interests are for them only. He knows he's only one of the animals of the street too.
Rest of world is not any better than street life. Only thing different is that one wrong step in real life makes you come to the gutter, but wrong step in the gutter get you gutted

24. If your character could have their ideal life outside of the gang, describe what that ideal life would be.
If he could have ideal life, it'll be life of movie star. Red carpet, super models, Champaign and party.

25. What ambitions does your character have for the gang as a whole? What ambitions does your character have for their place within the gang?
As a member of gang, he'll want the gang to grow big, and stronger. Which helps him to survive longer and many be hit big. For the placement within the gang, he'll not care what place he's in as long as he gets covered.

26. If your character is a recent addition from another gang, how does your character feel about joining a new gang? If your character is not a recent addition from another gang, how does your character feel about the new arrivals to the gang?
When he joins the gang, it's his first gang to join. He's not excited about it, but feels it's his time to become one of animals in the pack to protect him from the other packs of animals.

27. How does your character view relationships within the gang, both romantic and friendship? How does your character view relationships outside the gang, both romantic and friendship?


28. What is your character’s view of the other gangs in the area?

29. What is your character’s attitude towards/view of the gang as a whole?
He now believes there is truly no "family" in the street. Only "packs" of animals, whose interests are for them only. He knows he's only one of the animals of the street too.

30. What is your character’s view of each of his fellow gang members? Answer for each gang member listed below. (Update this as membership roster changes or significant events occur. Specify events or reasons that led to changes in perception. Do not delete prior perceptions, just add what has changed and why.)

Name: Alex Cole
Street Name: Haven't decide one
Sex: M
Age: 20
Race/Metatype: Elf (30 BP)

Stats
Body: 3 (20 BP)
Agility: 3 (10 BP)
Reaction: 3 (20 BP)
Strength: 3 (20 BP)
Charisma: 6 (30 BP)
Intuition: 3 (20 BP)
Logic: 3 (20 BP)
Will: 3 (20 BP)
Edge: 2 (10 BP)

Active Skills (118 BP)
Dodge 1 (+2 Melees)
Unarmed 1
Club 2 (+2 Bo)
Pistol 1 (+2 SA)
Athletic Group
-Climbing 1
-Gymnastics 1
-Running 1
-Swimming 1
Perception 1
Con 2 (+2 Seduction)
Etiquettes 1 (+2 Street Gang)
Negotiation 1 (+2 Bargain)
Cracking Group
-Cyber combat 3
-Electronic 3
-Hacking 3
Electronic Group
-Computer 2
-Data Search 2
-Hardware 2
-Software 2
Pilot Ground Craft 1 (+2 Bike)

Knowledge Skills (18 Free BP)
BTL Dealers 1 (+2 Redmond)
Computer Background 1 (+2 BTL Production)
Counterfeit Operation 1 (+2 Black Plague)
Gang ID 1 (+2 Redmond)
Gang Turf 1 (+2 Redmond)
Gang Politic 1 (+2 Redmond)

Qualities (-30 BP)
Home Ground (Free)
Human-Looking (5 BP)
Addiction (Mild, BTL) (-5 BP)
Allergy (Mild, Sunlight) (-10 BP)
Scorched (-10 BP)
SINner (Criminal) (-10 BP)

Gears (20 BP)
Lined Coat (700)
Cyberware
- Commlink (Fairlight Caliban w/ Novatech Navi) (11500)
- Cyber Eye Rate 3 (w/ Eye Recording Unit, Flare Compensation, Image Link, Low-Light Vision, Thermographic Vision, Vision Enhancement (Rate 2), Vision Magnification) (7750)
- Cyber Ear Rate 3 (w/ Audio Enhancement (Rate 2), Damper, Ear Recording Unit, Select Sound Filter (Rate 2), Sound Link) (6750)
- Simrig (5000)
- Muscle Replacement (5000)
Suzuki Mirage (6500)
(6800) to spend on Gears (Programs, Lifestyle, other gears)

2 unspent BP remaining

Personality
Twiggs is a hyper little guy with a healthy dose of paranoia. He fidgets quite a bit, cracking various joints at random. He slouches most of the time, seeming like he wants to meld into walls, furniture, etc. He likes to talk a lot, especially talking trash. He can be annoying at times, most people either like him or hate him, with few feeling indifferent.

Quotes
"Hoi chummer! Come on, find the red queen, not the black queen, remember red is right. You look like a smart fella' come on ten nuyen, easy money."
<grunts> "yeah, nice shot flat face. that tough guy thing works for ya, sorry what I said about you're mom, I forgot she only likes getting slotted by orcs" <more grunting>

Statistics & Race (0 bp)
Height: 165 cm (5'5")
Weight: 59 Kgs (130 lbs)
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Brown

Gender: Male
Age: 19
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Race: Human


Attributes (200bp)
BOD 3 AGI 5 REA 4 STR 2 CHA 3 INT 4 LOG 3 WIL 3 EDG 3 ESS 4

Qualities (-10bp)
Positive
Toughness (10 bp)
Home Ground (0 bp)

Negative
Addiction, Mild (Novacoke) (-5 bp)
Criminal SIN (-10 bp)
Weak Immune System (-5 bp)


Active Skills (106bp)
Skill
Rating
Att
Total
Cost

Blades (Kinives)
1 (3)
AGI
6 (8 )
6 bp

Climbing (Freehand)
1 (3)
STR
3 (5)
6 bp

Con (Fast Talk)
1 (3)
CHA
4 (6)
6 bp

Dodge
3
REA
7
12 bp

Etiquette
2
CHA
5
8 bp

Negotiation
2
CHA
5
8 bp

Palming
4
AGI
9
16 bp

Perception
3
INT
7
12 bp

Pistols
2
AGI
7
8 bp

Running
3
STR
5
12 bp

Shadowing
3
INT
7
12 bp



Knowledge Skills (0 bp) (21 free)
Skill
Rating
ATT
Total
BP

Redmond Gangs
3
INT
7
0 bp

Area Knowlege (Redmond)
1 (3)
INT
5 (7)
0 bp

Sport Stats (Urban Brawl)
1 (3)
INT
5 (7)
0 bp

Club Music
2
INT
6
0 bp

Fences (Redmond)
1 (3)
INT
5 (7)
0 bp

Drug Dealers (Redmond)
1 (3)
INT
5 (7)
0 bp

Lonestar Procedures
2
LOG
5
0 bp

Street Hustles
3
INT
7
0 bp


Languages
Language
Rating

English
N

Spanish
2

Or'zet
1



Contacts (6 bp)

Sutherland
Fixer C2/L4
It's said that those who can't do, teach. Such is the case with Sutherland, a thirty-something male pawn shop owner. He was never any good at the violence of the streets, and lacked any motivation to understand the more technical aspects of the Sixth World. What he did have, however, was an uncanny ability to organize and a memory for names, faces, and abilities. Over the past three years he's successfully parlayed his meager skills into a small business 'fixing' probems. Coming from the streets, he's familiar with the gangs of the area and how useful they can be to certain corporate or shadow entities. He provided the necessary interface between the Ghurkas and several employers, resulting in three or four mutually beneficial jobs. To say he has a soft spot for Twiggs, would be misleading, he recognizes that the skinny little dodger is a good source for a steady supply of cheap gear, so taking care of eack other is sound buisness. Twiggs also likes to talk more than his average customer, and a little company now and then is a nice change.

Resources (8 bp)
Â¥20,000 to spend
Gear List


Money
Low ¥3d6*50