I’m delving into the world of Shadowrun this evening, creating a character that could live in that world. Maybe, if I like him, I’ll put him in the world as such…
Horatio ‘Long John’ Marquez
Long John wouldn’t be caught dead in Seattle. There was talk once, years ago, about a run up there by Puget Sound. The yen was solid. All he had to do was ride shotgun on a hacker’s deal. The hacker had the heavy lifting–wreck the sewage system controls. He just needed to turn a few physical nobs to ensure the system was gonna go down as expected.
He didn’t take the gig. He didn’t take it even after the Johnson upped the yen by 35%. He didn’t do Seattle. The backstory never came out–not after the fight with his crew. Not after they took the job without him, made the yen and stayed on and he had to explain to the next crew why he was looking for work.
Work didn’t come hard for Long John. Dang near three meters of Troll, inked from neck to navel in full nano-color that reacted to his mood–or more specifically, reacted to what he wanted people to think he was feeling. It worked as a type of poker face. That helped when his face was marred by tusks and, usually, face paint. Still, none of that was why he wouldn’t go to Seattle.
No, it was the Arcology. They didn’t call it that anymore, but when he was a kid he knew it by it’s right name. His parents knew it too…