|(Face, Infiltrator, and Thief)|
|Titles and Awards||0|
|D.O.B.||September 9, 2032|
|Priority||Meta E, Attr B, M/R E, Skills B, Res A|
John is the perfect nobody. He is the guy who delivered your office supplies, he took your Soykaf order this morning on the way to work, and he stopped by to have you fill out the annual corporate loyalty refresher course paperwork. He's not particularly handsome, but he doesn't rub you the wrong way. He makes you feel at ease, but you never remember his name. He's everyone's acquaintance and nobody's friend.
John is a believer in the Sixth World Dream. Hard work isn't enough to get ahead anymore. These days, it's take what you can, and get the hell out of the way of the giant, crushing wheel of the corporations. If you're smart, you'll stay small and keep enough cash to carve out a nice place where nobody will ever bother you again. That's the new dream: Peace, quiet, and to be left damn well alone.
John was not special. His dad worked construction and drowned while on a crew repairing a broken sewer line when John was 9. His mom worked a convenience store but died from collateral damage from a drive-by when he was 15. He floated from job to job, working night shifts, loading docks, and delivery services to get by.
He probably still would be, had it not been for a late-night raid on the warehouse he was pulling a double-shift in. A team of runners came in soft, zip-tied him to a chair and took off with an unmarked crate. The day crew found him in the morning, and he was sent downtown to talk with some suit. He was told that he was fired, the box didn't exist, and he'd never heard of the warehouse. His old manager ran into him at a bar weeks later and told him that the warehouse had been shuttered, and the word from upstairs was that the whole thing had been written off without a second thought.
John realized that he was never going to make it on paychecks. Corporations have all the goods, and they're not just going to give you a cut because you work for them. The only way to make it was to bleed them enough to get your share, but not enough so that they notice. The mosquitoes that live are the ones you never noticed were there.
That was ten years and five back-room surgeries ago. Summers were spent churning through pistol rounds and broken bottles at a cabin in the woods, and the rest of the year was a day job at a crime-scene clean-up outfit. On the outside, he's the same drab, blue-collar drone that he was, but on the inside, it's new skills, new toys, and a mind to take what's his.
Narrative Significant Qualities
John's appearance is protean. His external cyberware is geared to shaping him into whoever he needs to be for a job. On the inside, it's strictly business: alongside a suite of enhanced electronics, he carries a custom pistol, a complete set of infiltration tools, and two tiny support drones, all concealed from view in neatly organized compartments.
John's approach to work is simple: get in, get out, and don't get noticed. While a competent thief and a good shot, his primary strength is in anonymity. If he does his job right, you might have seen him, but you'd never know.
- Boardroom Bloodbath (1/20/18)
- Courtroom Bias (1/30/2018)
- Financial Troubles (1/31/2018)
- Fashion Faux Pas (2/6/2018)
- It's The Principle Of The Matter (2/10/2018)
- Literal Drek (2/17/2018)
- What You Can Catch In The Net (2/22/2018)
- Vermintide (3/1/2018)
- Wilt Thou Lift Up Olympus (3/6/2018)
- Ellie Esps - Connection 4, Loyalty 3 - Fixer
- Otto Grundstein - Connection 5, Loyalty 2 - Forensic Pathologist (Swag - Biotech and Cyberware)
- Ed Wells - Connection 2, Loyalty 2 - Aerospace Engineer (Shadow Services)
- Michael Wilford - Connection 1, Loyalty 1 - Janitor, Quxing
- Kyle Bradmine - Connection 7, Loyalty 2 - Corporate Player, Ares (Shadow Services)
- Ares +4
- NeoNET +1
- Nova Rich +1
- Quxing +2
- Renraku +1
- Goldeneye +1
In Character Information
"He was a 6, at best. Bought a couple beers, hung around the bar for an hour waiting for someone. Nice, left a decent tip, but not all that funny. James or Joe or something, I think?"
"Yeah, someone stopped by here asking for you, middle-aged guy, seemed nice enough. Told him to go wait in your office."
"New guy running the desk yesterday. Forget where he said he transferred from. Not the greatest conversationalist, but he said he'd take care of fixing one of the reports I handed in, so he's good in my book. Probably saved me a trip back there later."
"Look, I don't know who you're looking for. I've got a dozen guys unloading these trucks, and I don't know any of their first names. Go ask around."
John Saint (R4), a retired private security consultant. As the story goes, John was assigned to a moderate wealthy heiress who was notoriously hard to get along with. A failed carbomb attack took off John's arms and nearly his head. The company's insurance paid for full replacements, but John was sent to early retirement anyways with explicit instructions to keep quiet.
Of course, none of this actually happened, but John has the paperwork that says it did.
Whatever suits the job, but typically John aims for blue-collar or wage slave identities. The less people care about him, the better.
The default icon, naturally.