Vigilante

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Vigilante
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Detective
Pistolero
Face
Player [1]
Metatype Human
Street Cred 1
Notoriety 1
Public Awareness 0
Titles and Awards 0
D.O.B. Not Found
Folder [2]
Priority
Metatype - E
Attributes - B
Magic/Resonance - E
Skills - B
Resources - A

Character Information

Current Events

A newcomer to Seattle but not to the Shadows, his latest dead end trailed off here and now he's bumming it around in the middle-dark looking for work and drinking himself slowly to death while trying to figure out his next steps.

Summary

A Runner with a burned out Chip-Jack, not sure where his original personality ends and his BTL begins. Stable. Efficient. Driven to find answers to how he ended up like this. Reliable and consistent.

Background

It's the question that his driven my life, defined it as I know it. The single overiding purpose to my being ever since I woke up in that alley in Hong Kong ten years ago with a burned out chip-jack in the back of my head and a head full of BTL memories that no amount of cyber- scrubbing, whiskey or juju can fix. What was I before I stuck that chip in my head? Was I some random junkie? Was I washed up runner or a cop? Was I a politician or a gangster? Was I just a nobody looking to escape an empty life with the fabricated memories of a 20th century film noir detective? I don't even know if it's me that's looking for the answer or if it's just part of the program that fried my neurons. I have skills... Did they belong to who I was before or are they just a part of the beetle?

These skills help me walk in the shadows, help keep me alive even when I just want to crawl into a dive and pound back grain alchohal until I die. The skills get me work and the work leads me onward. City to City. Sometimes I find traces. Sometimes I find peices. A sense of deja-vu. A barely glimpsed face in the rain that vanishes when I start looking for it to hard. Questions piled on questions. For a price I can find the answers to most. You come to me with a problem that needs solving? I can figure it. If I can't I can find the people who can. The only thing I can figure out is my own personal mystery.

Who was I? Why do all the cyber-docs and deckers I talk to tell me that the ruined chip-jack in my skull shows signs of being sabotaged? Where did all the ware I am sporting come from? Half of it I only found when I hit up a cyberdoc for unrelated issues. There has been some serious gene-twisting done in me, some heavy nuyen stuff to make me faster and more reactive... Not to mention the shakes I get if I am ever to far away from my next hit of drink or whatever drug suits my mood. The come down aint anything like what I seen other druggies go through. What am I? Am I the chip or the man?

Goals

  • Find out his past

Living Arrangements

Redmond Appartments

Narrative Significant Qualities

Run History

Affiliations

Contacts

Organizations

Allies

Enemies

In Character Information

Symbols and Signatures

Hard to miss a guy with a partial cyber-skull like his.

Matrix Search Table

Shadow Community Table

SINs

John Jacoby - Private Investigator

Appearance

Clothing

Matrix Persona

A flat 2d Blue Man

Vehicles

Media Mentions

ShadowGrid Profile Comments