Umm, yes please. If possible, I'd like to res my gunslinging adept from the massive multi-player game.
I'm leaning Jacksonville. Chi-town it is. Sounds fun.
Handle: Baby Hardcore
Metatype, sex, age: Human/M/19
Role: Gunslinging Adept
Brief concept/history:
Baby Hardcore's first memory is a group of bikers coming to his house to stand guard while his mom loaded him and his sister up to get the fuck out of dodge. Three years later it was the same thing, only this time he knew they were called BACA -- Bikers Against Child Abuse -- and the guy put up a little bit more a fight, which didn't end well for him. A few years after that, he called them himself his mom was all slotted out and hadn't bothered to do anything like laundry or cook for a few days. They showed up, or whatever, but it's not like there was really a lot they could do, as it wasn't like they had a rich uncle they could go and live with or anything. So, by fourteen Baby Hardcore took to the streets, and in no time he could squat with the trolls, steal with the street urchins, and take a beating from Lonestar like an Urban Brawl MVP. He even got himself an adopted family. There's Midge, an ork who he calls mom, and her girlfriend, Cassie, an elf he calls dad. They got themselves a nice little spot. Hell, it doesn't even when the rains hit. . .usually.
But, you don't really wanna hear any of that drek. That's not the shit that got him in the shadows, and it's not the shit that people are gonna mention if you bring up Baby Hardcore. You see, this kid, when he was all of seventeen-years-old, got into some of that voodoo, that nasty stuff, and just like Robert Johnson he walked himself to the crossroads, and he asked to be the best. Jury's still out on whether Baby Hardcore got his end of the bargain -- and the truth is he most certainly didn't -- but one thing is indisputable. He came back from that trip with a milky right eye. It gives ya the creeps just to look at it. And he was awakened after that, all right. Kid started shooting straight, running fast, and I think we all know how that story's gonna end. Shame really. He's barrens street trash, for sure, but he didn't hafta go down that road.
Appearance:
Baby Hardcore looks like a squatter through and through, with a mop-on-top mohawk, neo-anarchist patches on his clothes, and the kind of tattoos you get from a guy refurbishing some twentieth century tech -- what the hell was a Walkman? His right eye is completely white, though he sees out of it just fine, thank you very much. He's completely unaugmented, though he wears enough chains and spikes in his clothes to set any of the scanners on him like he's some cybered up troll street sam. Still, he's got an innocent smile, a slight gap-tooth, and slightly crooked nose that makes some people just want to take care of him. He's always treated those people like family.