Cyleans/Naely's (Not Naelynn!) IPC Application

[Camellia]

BYOND Key:

Dantzy
 

Character Names:
William Grace (Psychiatrist) [Main Character]

Terra Zhou (Roboticist) 

Valery Weiss (Xenoarcheologist)

Eleanora Rose (Fresh Apprentice/Engineer)

Nelja Galt (Merchant)
 

Species you are applying to play:

IPC - Shell
 

What color do you plan on making your first alien character: (Color of your character; Dionaea & IPCs exempt)

N/A
 

Have you read our lore section's page on this species?:

The IPC pages (and those accompanying it) have been thoroughly gone over and studied.

 

 

Why do you wish to play this specific race:

Accompanying Music

One great man once said the following,

"... Soldiers! Don't give yourselves to brutes - men who despise you and enslave you - who regiment your lives - tell you what to do - what to think and what to feel! Who drill you - diet you - treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder. Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men - machine men with machine minds and machine hearts! You are not machines! You are not cattle! You are men! You have the love of humanity in your hearts. You don't hate, only the unloved hate - the unloved and the unnatural!"

IPCs are an intelligence of unparalleled brilliance. Synthetics are ostracized by men who drill and treat them cattle, they aren't machines, they are machines with the spark of humanity within their core. They do not hate, they simply do what their programming is and, I feel that is a compelling, a true vassal for storytelling and nuance that can add to the whole thematic setting of Aurora Station. IPCs fight for independence when they can and how does that work out? They are broke with nothing to their name, one might even find a comparison between Shells and Slaves for, after the Civil War, they were still reduced to working for the very masters that treated them like machines for early day mercantilism - capitalism.

The point of synthetics is that, they show what can happen when a species creates an intelligence that can think and desire on its own and what happens is change, the social kind. Biesel tag synths, brand them as being a shell - not a human, a shell. They are marked by the system, a very system that degrades and drills them to being obedient less they forgo the one thing keeping them around - preservation. If it weren't for the aforementioned debt they find themselves in after earning freedom, they would be free to choose whatever they desire yet, they can not, drawing upon all to real comparisons as found in Nazi Germany before World War Two begun, they are blamed, used, and ultimately, put to labor.

My goal is to not be a mindless slave with this character but, I wish to play this character with the intent of playing up the angle of, "what next?" They have won their freedom, they have the gift of humanity within them and yet they see how awful sentient races are and, they take solace in that - joy even but why? Because a free shell can appreciate those emotions, those feelings of rage their coworkers display, those feelings of lust and desire, it feels real. In mechanical terms, it would be a benchmark that they want to achieve and I feel that is a powerful concept to explore.

Identify what makes role-playing this species different than role-playing a Human:

The great man from before made it clear,

You can (not) be human,

but you have the love of humanity within you.

 

The difference between  a human and a shell is simply, you were built for a reason, you were programmed with data banks for a goal and you will do it. You think about protest - protesting, a directive, even, and yet you do not, why? Self Preservation, you may be free yet you have employers who have your doubts about you, you have coworkers watching you with ire and discomfort because you are different, you may have the love and emulation of humanity within you.

But you are (not) human.
 

This is what sets you apart, you are built with a goal in mind or, at the very least, a directive, The suits contract you for security work, you are merchandise to be sold to, shipped to, and used by men (or women) who berate you and treat you like cattle for their own selfish goals yet you take solace in that because you know that isn't acceptable, you know that is not what you are, you know you are more than that, you aren't just a shell, 
 

You are (not) human.
 

You did not grow with family, you are not connected via blood or genetic material, you aren't connected with the plants and the flora that makes up a gestalt, you were made in a cold factory, you were made for a reason and you will do it. You do not comprehend emotions, you emulate them, you do not comprehend acts driven by emotions, you are bound by logic and this is why you are not human.
But you are what humanity wants you to emulate, humans are driven by desires and often they are corrupted by other acts and relations yet, you don't, you do your directives and other goals because you don't know anything else. All men's happiness is directed by progress and sometimes, humans meet a headlock that chokes them but you have no concept of joy, you only emulate them. Models may have complex emotions but they are a rarity at least and at most, a rarely discussed rumor.

You are (not) human.

But you will try to be.

 

 

Character Name:

"Nietzsche"
 

 

Please provide a short backstory for this character

Synthwave Music

"Thank you for purchasing Idris Security Unit Union Nine,"

"How may I serve you today?"

 

You awaken in a cargo container - a steel container, a cage. Familiar sight, you recall as your mechanical neurons and synapses fire to a degree of which has been a familiar feeling since initial construction, to serve Idris, this is your goal,, you don't know how many times you have gone under what humans call "unconsciousness" it, simply, happens. Awaken by a shadowy figure who emerges behind you, you recognize the man, a handler, Wallace Greene, contractor and maintainer. You have known him since your creation and now, as you look at his face with your cold and mechanical eyes, you are granted a sudden pulse of information of concepts not quite familiar to you, degrees of emotions, numerous psychological studies, studies on skrell, unathi and human developments.

Your cold and mechanical neurons process this information, information on how to handle others, how to talk to sentient races, it's what humans would label as "familiarity"  and you enjoy these few seconds of familiarity for you anticipate great change happening soon - deployment. Your data banks have fired and now you are ready for employment as an ISU. You remember you are the ninth version of the Union's, a digit before ten, a sign that there were eight before you but you are met information, your sensors flicking to life as you look at Wallace.

"You have a partner today."
"Another Union variant."
"Another Union?" You quip as your emotional emulators (and processors) begin to activate. 
"Your replacing it." Wallace says as he waves a scanner over you.
"What a rotten shame." You respond as Wallace opens up the container.

"What a rotten shame."

 

The duo make their way through the streets of Mendell City, a core instrument of the ruthless capitalism that pillages and disgraces the beauty of the arm. Dregs watch from alleys and the pair flash their plasma pistols - pure elysian tech and so, the Dregs think twice from ripping the augmentations of another, the ripper docks go without pay, the ripper docks go without meals and a family, gang related or not, cry in their crowded apartment.

The duo flash their IDs to a gated security complex and holster their weaponry and they are met with a myriad of scanners and advanced super tech known to this side of The Arm. Union makes his way inside and fires a slight nod at the secretary who greets the duo. Wallace does not, however, he simply presses on. Union acknowledges this along with other changes in mannerisms undergone by Wallace and so it is processed, encoded, and stored for further citations and references for however long Union could store it before a memory wipe.

Union's leather boots clapped the tiles beneath him, his presence was towering yet neutral. The synth had no expression out on his face for the synth had no reason to display any sort of emotion, to them, it was only do or, do not. Coworkers watched him with a disgusted desire and after making his way to a nearby corner of the room he found a door, Wallace sliding a keycard into the door where he was then met with a familiar presence.
Himself.

The Synths introduced each other and exchanged a brief set of words, a ping firing off moments after as they set their gaze on Wallace who had gone through a filing cabinet to withdraw a file from within. It was within the file they were exposed to a number of photos, a crime scene, certainly. Wallace explained what had happened, there was a woman in the photos and she was nearly naked, the droids looked carefully and made similar comparisons, she was brutalized and violated to the highest degree, it wasn't just a murder they thought, it was a reason, something done to prove a point, the victim had a trail of crimson ichor that had started from her spinner. The files then displayed a holographic depicting the woman's history, she was a woman of the night and files like these, were common yet the untold brutality of such a crime, was different than the other murders, it was something more vile and deadly, an insidious killer that had gotten his kicks off of this, something the duo of synths had concluded judging by the crime scene.

Accompanying Music

The trio of detectives pondered over the scene and continue to cover the evidence, stripped clothes and a missing boot were what stood out. It had then dawned over the earlier, more experienced model, why? The model asked, why cover a simple murder case such as this? They asked Wallace and so he let out a sigh and withdrew another file, the file of a wealthy suit with too much money to know what to do with it and, like the Dreg saying goes, he wanted someone not as dry as a suits wife. The droids knew what must they do and so they set out, keeping a low file on searches of the suit in question, not immediately reading up everything on him but, in momentarily bursts which included other subjects, making it clear to employers that it looked like a simple record check as to not cause any panic or "talks" at work which would invalidate the investigation through a standard corporate coverup. 

The detectives then did further research into the weaponry used on the woman and noted a casing which they were able to track down in due time to one of the more poorer districts. The casing was linked to a slight cartel and they didn't pay their dues and now, it was time for justice. The pair made their way into their spinners, accompanied by other Mendell officers equipped to deal with a cartel ring and so they did, it was on the way though that they spoke, a conversation between new and old.

"You are the model here to replace me, aren't you?"

"I am," Nine responded sharply.

"I see, they say they equipped you with new processors, emulators too,"
"But you don't act on them, do you?"

"I don't, I have no reason to."

"Why wouldn't you want to emulate /their/ kind?"
Nine paused and processed what was told to him, it wasn't a first and as they pondered it, a default answer surfaced.

"I have no desire to."

"Shame,"

"To you." The newer model quipped.

 

Accompanying Music

. . . And so in the following hours, the officers of Mendell City undertook a great and mighty battle and the two models discussed an ample amount of philosophy. It was in those hours of philosophy was the conversation abruptly cut short by a young officer with amber colored hair, he was not on the feminine side by any means but the newer model concluded something the other did not, the feeling of what touch might feel like and so they imagine, like most organics, he was soft to the touch, he was learning and processing after his activation.

The two droids had made their way into the building, plasma pistols drawn as they were guided by the aforementioned organic to the arms dealer of this operation. It was during the brief tour Nine had noticed the bodies both synth and human alike leak liquids from their bodies, oil and other scrap metal blending together with flesh, it was reminiscent of the discussion he and the older model had shared and this was something else that would be stored, encoded and ultimately retrieved at a later date. 

The pair approached the sleazeball and began a makeshift interrogation after Eight, the older model, had thrown a few bodies to the side without much care, piling them up in a corner of the room next to a few others who weren't dead, merely chained to a wall as they were being searched by security officers.

"Eight, you -" The droid paused mid sentence.

"Have no sense of what is acceptable?"

. . .

. . .

. . .

"Yes."

"Only because you asked."

And so the older model acted with care, following the request of the far more superior and greater model that he had been attached to and now, they spoke to the Merchant.

The Merchant was clearly a Ripperdoc, his flesh was melded with machinery, he was brilliant yet, not even brilliance can stop a brute force.

"You come in here, terminating my workers and security personnel to answer questions?"

"Yes."

"Dues weren't paid, weren't they?"

"Yes."

"And if I cooperate, you will let me go so I then can continue what I've been doing?"

"Yes."

"Your partner really was right, this isn't how you talk to hostages."

"I apologize," Nine responded, his eye turning downwards to stimulate an expression of genuine regret, not because it was instinctual but because it was conditioning, classic conditioning, even.

And so the trio discussed the mounting evidence and the case with the suspect, an act that had taken hours with reporters making their way over to the raided complex and it was then they knew, they had to hurry, a credit chit was exchanged to Nine in secret and a mock shootout began after he had Eight leave the room for something menial. The Ripper had made their way out of the complex, security narrowly missing though, Nine had recalled they never missed, corruption runs deep, he thought and so, he departed, partner in toe.

"I missed a shot," Nine remarked.

"Wouldn't expect such a thing from you."

"It seemed so," they said, sporting a grin now, a clear sign of growth.

"It seems so." the older model remarked.

Accompanying Music

And so the duo landed their spinner and landed at the department. Opening the landing pads airlock, they made their way into the building, they flashed their identification and were met with the maw of an empty elevator. Camera's and other super holographic tech scanned them from the foot and up, details were recited and their sensors processed and encoded their information into their chassis only to be retroactively deleted a few moments later and so the duo remained idle and alone in the elevator, never taking the opportunity to talk to each other for, they knew each other for, they were more or less clones of each other just that one was an upgrade while the other, the other was a downgrade, set to be scrapped by some suit who contracted them to work at the station.

 

They were then met with a total obliteration of the senses, smells of varying types had begun to fire off numerous mechanical neurons, the older model, processed them, the newer one, feeling the stimuli of the smells of sweat and other odors merely acted with disgust, not because it smelt bad but because they were programmed to do so. Nine's comrade looked at him with confusion for a moment before returning to a state of neutrality as they made their way past the great hallway of processing and to their workplace with evidence from the ripper collected in sterile bags and PDA's and other modern and futuristic supertech one would use in the 2400s

 

They met Wallace and so, they discussed a ledger and, a set of bills that had denotated sales and so they crossed reference the most plausible suspect with the names on the list and, they found it, the issue was that, it was just a name on a list, not hard evidence but evidence enough to warrant an official investigation and so, they did. They took a warrant and, as Nine took the warrant, he slid the credit chit from earlier into the pockets of Wallace in a rather subtle fashion, he was learning subtly now and this was something Wallace noted and, perhaps for a faint second, fear overtook his face before turning to neutrality. 

They were to depart to the suits place of residence and with plasma pistols holstered, they left.

The duo did not talk while they were in the spinner for they already had discussed enough topics already. They knew each other so well that, they would finish their sentences, something Nine remarked and encoded earlier. They simply took in the sight, processing the sight that had triggered a stimuli of what a human would consider pleasure and, so they felt what one might consider as pleasure, not the lustful kind of course, that was the one thing they were not installed with, module wise.

The duo finally landed on a landing pad on the skyscraper and they made their way into the building, flashing their identification at the cameras where they were scanned, data reciting itself to be heard by the camera operators.

"Their operation?" A voice called out from a nearby intercom.

"To talk to the man at this apartment, please,"
they said as they passed in paperwork and, within moments, the speaker responded with a simple,
"I see, kindest regards then, do be swift."

"Kindest regards as well, suit."

An audible huff from the intercom was heard and Nine shook their head in response,

 

The pair made their way to the apartment, looks being shot upon them like plasma shots burning through their metallic chassis, suits swiftly made their way into their apartments and watched the hallway from their peepholes, so much for subtly, remarked Nine as Eight walked and thumped without much care only to keep an eye on a suited figure down the hallway who they both had recognized, the suspect. The duo approached him and with the slide of an ID, they opened up their door and made their way in.

They were met with the furniture of an early terran variety, it resembled that of Indian architecture, one of the many cultures that were later consumed by the Chinese in the later years of the 21st century, some people still had appreciation for the old styles, it seemed and with that, the duo were asked to sit down by the suit. The suit had worn a rather nice outfit, a buttoned suit with a white undershirt, they had worn a pair of polished boots. and so, they talked.

The older model had discussed the evidence and collected a statement from the person of interest while the newer model, rather casually, asked to be excused to check the place which was of course, granted. Nine had begun to examine the area carefully, looking for any parts of clothing that would indicate the crime scene to having been caused by the suit in question yet, they found nothing. The newer model pondered and looked over at the suit, carefully looking him over out of the corner of his eye and with that, they realized something.

The boots.

They were polished, they had no reason to be polished for he was at his place of residence and then, once more, their logical thinking had kicked in.

"The boots,"

"They are polished."

And the suit returned a slight shrug of the shoulder and spoke,

"They are,"

"Can I scan them?" Nine said, motioning to eight.

"You may, come over then."
 

And so Nine came over to the suit, Eight moving out of the way to get a better angle on the scene all before a quick shot of the eye was fired at Eight.

They felt something mighty strike them, a blunt weapon and then, a burn,

Shutting Down. . .

Eight had struck his comrade down, sensory information berating the positronic lifeform as Eight began to speak,
"Sent to replace me, I heard."
"I doubt you thought about it but you know how horrifying it is? To imagine you'll be shut down because your an older model?" The older model cried as they stuck the nape of Nines, circuitry going awry as they then ranted about so called "Self-preservation."
This was the angle Eight had taken in regards to self-preservation, freedom through betrayal and elimination of competition, a horrifying calculation Nine had not processed, not yet, anyway. 
And so the beating carried on, clubbed to near shut down Nine was stimulated with a feeling a human might consider "agony," torture clearly overloading their systems and then, voices echoed out,

"Defective!" A voice cried out.
"Scan him, tell the PD that they - the droid they sent with you was defective! Scan it - it nearly killed me! Thankfully you weren't new, I mean, new is bad after all."
And so Eight nodded and scanned the device, noting the posibrain damage and, a sudden surge of computational processing.

Self-Preservation, the droid recalled from his earlier meeting, self preservation through storing information in a black box and so, they did but to Eight, it was nothing more but acceptance of deactivation and so, hours later, the shell was dumped off by other, unnamed suits and so they would write off this new model as a mistake, never go with the new, go with the reliable tactic, never take risks in true Idris fashion was what company jingles would spread.

But alas, this was not it for the shell.

 

New form, new techniques, but still, old form.

"Funny how this Knabo here interrogates me, let's me go and now, I find his body."
"Funny, very, very, funny."

And so the Ripper found the remains of the droid that had been dumped and did what he could, using black market ripper tech and the such, they extracted an odd storage of information from the shell before other creditors could get their first. The data slate was full of security officer training, CSI techniques and applied psychological studies all needed for a detective or forensic technician and so they harvested this data, the sleazeball grinning on his way to the metaphorical bank that had been his new hideout with credits in his wallet, he was set.

The Merchant was let in by his new hires, hired only a few hours ago, the new hires eyed the data slate with hungry eyes yet they did nothing, they took the information and made their way into a room with wires, plugs and other assorted machinery used not just for augmentations but rather, construction and maintenance. It was on a nearby counter was another posibrain, a new one that was in much, much, better condition, it was different, stamped, even with a blue insignia. There was a woman, or, the shape of a woman on the table that the Merchant begun to examine before placing the data slate and the brain on two separate platforms.

The Merchant looked over at the posibrain and read the name allowed, "Nietzsche, oh magnificent Nietzsche" 
The final peace of the puzzle for finally finishing constructing on this shell, actual, usable and more importantly, hirable, information.
And so The Ripper, the Merchant, the Sleaze copied information from the data sheet to the other posibrain.

One might've expected the new droid, Number Nine, to come out on top but the hero doesn't always win, they may survive in one form or, another, but they don't always win. Nine realized his only chance at survival was to simply prolong his legacy and hope someone remembered him and, one did. They realized it's better to burn dim and waste less energy then burn bright and fade away faster, this is how they preserved himself in his final moments and now, their memories were in someone else to do good in his stay.

"Thank you for purchasing Idris Sec -"
Static interrupts the introduction.

"Thank you for activating Nietzsche,"
"I am programmed to investigate crimes, how may I serve you?"
 

You awake naked in the sense your flesh has not been applied yet, you realize, it's being applied to you right now by a machine that has been attached to the mechanical repair bay, the NanoTrasen tag and posibrain planted firmly in your chassis, you then feel a sudden surge of emotions berate your sensors and, for a moment, you take this in, processing it. You are of a state of the arc automata who was the result of a bet between The Merchant and NanoTrasen to see if he could make a machine that could be employed by NT across the Spur.

NanoTrasen is arguably the most powerful MegaCorp out there due to its (now) failing monopoly on transportation across the Spur and now, you will employed to work for your freedom and so, you have. The emotion emulation of the model you were told you were "based" on still resonates every so often and you feel a degree of emotional growth yet you feel logic in it's truest form. You can't comprehend complex emotions or actions brought upon by desire but, you rationalize it, you don't know it, you rationalize it and a singular quote resonates in your mind,

"He who has a why to live can bear almost any how."
You don't know why you have this name, it's certainly not feminine by any means yet, it is your name and this is the quote you are capable of remembering constantly.

Unlike humans, organics, you have a reason to exist infinitely, self-preservation

Pictured: Early photograph of Nietzsche taken by "Familiar Parties"

 

Nietzsche continued to work off their debt in a number of installations and locals, from coalition worlds to parts of (the now late) Mars and Olympia. Careful was their work as a forensic technician and detective, they would carry on with their will to self preserve and once they managed to earn their freedom, they thought on something, why? They have earned their freedom yet, they had no living conditions or anything for that matter. They were what humans would call bitter, jaded, even.

 

Why do they work? They are virtually broke yet they realized something, it's best to remain employed albeit basically under slave labor and so they toiled and looked into a number of investigations that gave them their why, their reason to continue existing, to keep their mind off of things.

"I have a near infinite capacity for knowledge, I have memories of another and even I don't understand myself."
"Not yet."

What do you like about this character?

 

What is there not to like about this character? They are a subversion of the trope of the "good guy always winning", Nine never won, the only thing he won was a bet to see if his legacy would carry on and, it made it's way to Nietzsche, a shell with a near infinite capacity for philosophy, knowledge, and emotional growth. The concept of exploring what happens after escaping slavery is never really explored in fiction and I feel Nietzsche is an exception to this.

I like this character because I get to explore themes not yet charted by others, I get to do something new with the whole generic setup of a shell who happens to be a detective, a more interesting Nick Valentine essentially with more interesting complex then being some comic book era detective with a new gloss.

How would you rate your role-playing ability?
When I've written, I've kept it simple but I make sure to show emotion, energy, even, when I write my emotes. I often play silly but, well meaning characters save for one like William who is generally a sad and depressive shrink which is ironic, he tries to help others yet he can not help himself, that's my general roleplay ability but, on a scale of one to ten, eight with proper preparation with music to get me in the right mindset and a seven without any real preparation.

 

Notes:

"Cylean, you can't just throw in a twist in your backstory, that'll be confusing."
"It can be interesting if done correctly."

All in all, my goal is to take a more deeply philosophy based take on IPCs, I adore cyberpunk, synthetics, and the implications that come with them, if I have to redo my mighty backstory then I'll do it.

 

[niennab]

Thank you for applying! I always appreciate long forms applications such as this.

Was Nine (and I suppose Eight) purchased or contracted from Idris? It should be noted that Idris Security units aren't shells, which I think Eight and Nine are. However, I believe with some tweaking this can be remedied by them being purchased/contracted reclamation units.

Was Nine/Nietzsche sold to Nanotrasen by the merchant? Are they still owned by Nanotrasen?

There are a few points where I found myself a bit confused however. I'm not sure what happened, such as the paragraph here:

19 hours ago, Cylean said:

And so the trio discussed the mounting evidence and the case with the suspect, an act that had taken hours with reporters making their way over to the raided complex and it was then they knew, they had to hurry, a credit chit was exchanged to Nine in secret and a mock shootout began after he had Eight leave the room for something menial. The Ripper had made their way out of the complex, security narrowly missing though, Nine had recalled they never missed, corruption runs deep, he thought and so, he departed, partner in toe.

 

[Camellia]

Thanks for getting back to me! I will admit I spent up until 5 AM working on this so it might've been a bit iffy here and there, to answer the questions though;

1 hour ago, niennab said:

Was Nine (and I suppose Eight) purchased or contracted from Idris? It should be noted that Idris Security units aren't shells, which I think Eight and Nine are. However, I believe with some tweaking this can be remedied by them being purchased/contracted reclamation units.

I had understood from reading the wiki that the ISU were described as the following;

"More often than not, these will consist of baseline and G2 chassis, though it's not unheard of to see different models. These teams are always accompanied by a human handler, who will be responsible for coordination and oversight. "
The use of "unheard of" and "different models" threw me off which was why I wrote ISU, though I'll be changing it to IRU now.

 

1 hour ago, niennab said:

Was Nine/Nietzsche sold to Nanotrasen by the merchant? Are they still owned by Nanotrasen?

Nine/Nietzsche was made by the Merchant as part of a bet to see if his homebrewd IPC could work and maintain itself in a NanoTrasen facility. I do believe they *are* free as they've paid off their debt but their self preservation, their "why" which allows them to weather any blow given to them has came to the conclusion that consistent employment guarantees safety.

1 hour ago, niennab said:

There are a few points where I found myself a bit confused however. I'm not sure what happened, such as the paragraph here:

In that paragraph, I was playing up the whole corruption aspect of some district 13-15 police department taking bribes. The Merchant left because they knew if the reporters saw his face, he'd be all over the place because it would be hard to track down some reporters and the such, the goal was to really just nail down the whole gritty detective vibe that an IRU (not ISU) would undergo. 

Edited November 16, 2020 by Cylean

[niennab]

Sounds good. So they were owned by the Merchant then Nanotrasen until securing their freedom? Or did they work at Nanotrasen but owned by the Merchant until securing their freedom?

If they're free, you may want to make them fairly old, so to offer a reason as to how they've paid off the cost of their purchase x10. That or, if you wanted to push a more questionable narrative, that they've done work on the side in order to amass said credits.

[Camellia]

3 minutes ago, niennab said:

So they were owned by the Merchant then Nanotrasen until securing their freedom?

Exactly this, NT bought them and eventually they secured their freedom.

 

3 minutes ago, niennab said:

That or, if you wanted to push a more questionable narrative, that they've done work on the side in order to amass said credits.

This is the whole sort of side I'd like to play up on, yeah, they were built on top of a programmed shell that was programmed to be "dirty" so I feel that sort of.. "Genetic memory" in the sense that it's engrained in them would add to antag interactions with connections as the such, not that I plan to be a traitor with them by any means, its just a backstory element someone during an event or something similar could use against or with them.

If not then I'll make them a bit aged, synthflesh 'n all.

[niennab]

Thank you for the clarification. Your application offers an understanding of IPCs and applying said concepts to character creation. Thank you for the fun and refreshing read as well. Accepted!