Just posting to say I'm interested, and I'm definitely working on a dedicated rigger/getaway driver kind of fellow to apply with. I don't get much of a chance to play Shadowrun, but their rigging rules have always been fun.
Description and/or Picture: Quint stands at around 6’, and is fairly well-built for being 24. Ear length black hair is often wrapped up in a short ponytail or kept in a semi-permanent bedhead condition. Both eyes are clearly aug’d, in particular they are colored a striking bright blue. His right arm is also obviously cybered, sporting a somewhat blocky mechanical appearance. Though he doesn’t enjoy going in public much, when he does he frequently sports a vest or coat- making sure to cover his sleeves and chest, hiding an incomplete full torso and sleeve tattoo that signified his loyalty to his old gang. When working, he frequently stays in his car: preferring a short sleeved white shirt with an armored vest, along with nicely cut dress pants and synth-leather shoes. His choice of clothing is a bad habit he formed while he was with his old gang, and when forced to go outside- he frequently (and awkwardly) attempts to dress down, instead sporting a light jacket or cloak and relatively unassuming shoes and pants. While he often does not care to hide his cyberarm, he does wear shades or glasses that dim to hide his eyes while outside.
On a scale of ‘pretty good’ to ‘absolutely ****ed’ Quint’s life was somewhere towards the latter end.
No, no- it wasn’t like he lived on the streets or anything like that, nah. He just had responsibilities and expectations. It wasn’t quite like being born into a Megacorp, but it might explain why he found himself more often than not turning a blind eye to those kinds of poor saps. To explain why Quint’s life was… Unpleasant, you’d have to look at his mom: Laura d’Egidio and her very deceased lover, Gorou Fujiwara. Laura d’Egidio was the runner up to control the d’Egidio family in Berlin. Gorou Fujiwara was the son of the Fujiwara-gumi’s oyabun. Though equally promising (at one point) he fell out in favor of his younger brother, who was seen as more competent.
The two met by chance during a small quasi-joint corp/syndicate venture held by a few smaller syndicates in Europe. Their chance meeting ended in an unwelcome gift to Laura, and several months later, Quinziano d’Egidio was born. Though he never met his father (he had died only a month after his son’s birth due to unrelated work reasons) Quint was briefly told of him through his mother once he had come of age. Being born into the mafia had shaped his life inexplicably. Though his mother kept her son at arm’s length, never truly spending time to care for the boy, he did receive guidance through his grandfather. ‘Big J’ as he was called, had at this point retired as his wife’s (then d’Egidio’s family matriarch) bodyguard, and opted to take care of the boy. Through him, he learned to love mechanics- including driving. He gained an interest in rigging, and was hired on as a getaway driver for the d’Egidio’s.
Unfortunately, trouble within the family caused an upheaval in power, and with the ousting of his mother from a favorable role, Quint decided to take the opportunity to leave and try to make a name for himself. He left Berlin to head to the States, and spent some time in New York working as a cheap runner for the big five mafia families. Though he never made much of a name for himself, he ended up being sought out by a low-ranking Fujiwara-gumi member, who bade him to come to New Orleans. Unknowingly, he ended up starting a new chapter of his life…
Though he spent three years in New Orleans, these three years were probably the most formative of his life at this point. Though his father had been long since dead, Quint met his uncle- then First Lieutenant of the Fujiwara-gumi. The two spent some time catching up, before Quint was once more offered a job. The Fujiwara-gumi were a (relatively) small syndicate in comparison to some of the larger yakuza groups in the states, and considered a New Way family. Quint’s half-Japanese status and past (albeit minor) experience as a runner could afford him some leeway within the family. It was unlikely he’d receive full status, but as his uncle felt some sort of guilt for his brother’s inability to provide for his son, he at least wished to help provide him some sort of living.
Though Quint stayed for three-odd years, the fact that he wasn’t fully allowed into the family and that he was unlikely to climb the ranks bothered him. It wasn’t as if he was used to luxury, but his ambition gave him a certain hunger that was not being satisfied. After some time he would eventually leave, cutting some frail ties as he did: and no longer being fully welcomed in New Orleans. The rigger would eventually reach Seattle, once more hoping to make a name for himself as a proper, full blown runner. Prior to receiving any major runner jobs, Quint spent most of his time attempting to recoup his status in Seattle- primarily doing small odd-jobs and working as a freelance mechanic.
Juryrigger/Gearhead:
Quint spent a lot of his time as a kid/teen tinkering and, well, driving. He’s a natural at the wheel or with a tool box, and he’s kept his skills sharp since then by the nature of the jobs he takes.
Bad Rep:
Being once associated with both a mafia family and a yakuza group is… Not necessarily the best, especially if your associate with both is currently at ‘not friendly’ territory. Suffice to say, rumors travel quickly through the matrix, and even in a place like Seattle some people have found it hard to want to do business with him. Even when you separate those kinds of rumors from him, the fact that he had any sort of connections at all simply makes him seem like a risky business partner.
Distinctive Style:
Should you take his shirt off, you’ll notice a half-completed (primarily outlined/sketched) full torso and sleeve tattoo. While this was primarily reserved for full fledged members of the Fujiwara-gumi, Quint’s uncle had suggested he receive one anyways, as at the time he had served with them for a few years and had familial connections. It was really more for Quint than it was for anyone else, as much of the rest of the group only associated with him on a need to know basis.
Experience: Though he made most of his living the past 5 years working odd jobs, he isn’t really an experienced runner. Most of his jobs involved him working exclusively as a getaway driver, or surveillance via drones. He’s been kept out of heist or job plannings, and as his work involved criminal syndicates, most of it has been on the cleaner spectrum of criminal activity. He likes to think he knows his way around the place, but he’s not seen the true extent of a runner’s job.
Drive: Quint is fueled primarily through greed, wanting to acquire a nice life for himself. At least, that’s what you might find out if you asked him. Part of it might also be a desire to stake out something that’s distinctly his- a place in life, as it were.
Personality: Quint can be abrasive at times, it’s not as if he dislikes people- but he’s not the best at socializing and communicating. He’s bright, possessing an intuitive knack and logical methodology, but he can come off as a little uptight. In a group setting, he prefers it when decisions are made quickly and people can agree on something- regardless of what that something is. He quickly gets frustrated if a group breaks out into an argument, and finds himself losing patience if people aren’t prepared for a situation- laziness really bothers him. More than anything, he comes off as someone who desperately wants to appear as a calm, cold professional, but has a temper that flares quickly if things don’t smoothly work out.
Cohesiveness: Though he doesn’t come off as a team player, his drive for success and the desire to want to succeed has made him someone who wants nothing more than to pull off a job right. The fact that his bad reputation has traveled with him has made him even more likely to come off as ‘loyal’, as he knows a bad maiden run could finally put the axe in his attempted career in the shadows. He’s more than willing to work with most folk, given they aren’t (in his eyes) entirely too scummy.
Interests: Due to his past experience working with crime syndicates and his familial connections, Quint has definitely had a taste of luxury. Maybe not true, millions-of-nuyen kind of luxury, but the point is he's a man who can't say no to a good synth-leather jacket. Cigars, wine, fancy paintings- he's into stuff that's rare and valuable. Some of it is just the thrill of acquiring it, whether legally or not, while the rest plays into his ego of he should have it. Beyond that, his love loops back into rigging and mechanics. As a teen he spent some time street racing, and sometimes he feels that desire bubble up to the surface- but at most it shows while he's driving very very fast away from something.
“Remember, I just need to see where they parked it.”
“Leave it to me.”
It was entirely too cold, but that was something he had gotten tired of saying already in Seattle. There were a lot of things he was already tired of regarding Seattle. The first was, overwhelmingly the cold- though he had a lot to say about how damn crowded it was, too. At the very least the skyline was quite catching, but it helped that the building he was standing on was high enough from to hide him from the street lights. He let out another cold breath as he allowed his attention to focus back onto his RCC.
Propped up against the side of the rooftop railing, Quint dove into his Lockheed Optic-X2, which had been high in the Seattle sky. Taking over for the pilot program, he felt himself sink into the machine, and fluttered his metallic wings as he faced his camera downwards. The job was simple: find a stolen car for its owner. The mark? A shiny new Metaway, with an apparently custom paint job that should be ‘immediately obvious’ as its owner put it. All Quint had to do was find it, as the other said he would be more than glad to take care of the ‘rest’. He had let his drone do much of the heavy lifting by cruising through some of the busier streets, stopping only to snap a picture of a passing Metaway. It wasn't often, but every once in a while he'd receive a picture of a full red or gray Metaway on the road. It was now hour three of his thrilling investigation of downtown Seattle.
Suffice to say, he was less than happy to have to take what is essentially another boring job- but nuyen was nuyen. Besides, the entire point was that the client wanted to beat in the face of the poor sap who decided they needed to steal his car. Quint wasn’t going to try arguing with a troll that was already ticked off, especially a paying one. Anyways, it felt nice to have an excuse to cruise through the Seattle night sky. He had been so distracted with work and well, just trying to find work, that he had forgotten some of what he enjoyed. It was fun to weave his Lockheed Optic in between large buildings, sometimes darting close to the street to get a better view of the passing traffic.
Direct control at least made the process faster. Instead of reviewing every image his drone opted to send his way, he could just take a peek, decide it wasn't it, and move. The cars may have been small, but their weird hunchback roof and single seat made them easy to spot. Even so, he wasn't having much luck with his surveillance. Thinking back to the brief conversation he had with his client, and how he called the booster 'some barrens lookin' punk', he couldn't help but to think...
Where exactly would a barrens kid go if they wanted to stash their boost?
He took a quick glance at the map of downtown Seattle, singling out some areas that saw less foot traffic and were still accessible by road. With a whir, he took a dip to his left, heading straight towards the Puget Sound.
Lo and behold, stashed in a junkyard near the ever so noisy waters of the Puget Sound was his mark, a black and white Metaway (with an absolutely sick skull decal on the hood) hidden precariously beside a stack of scrap. The yard by itself was pretty quaint- not much for junk, beyond some scrap piles. There was an attached warehouse, but it looked small and perhaps more importantly: not used. With everything seemingly adding up, Quint jumped back into his meat, a sigh escaping his lips as he flashed his client a quick message with attached trideo. It didn't take long for his client to get back to him.
"That's it! That's my ride!"
"Yeah, well, it's not scrap yet. You sure you don't want me to take care of it? Wouldn't take long to get rid of the drek."
"Frag off, kid, I can do it myself. Gonna teach that punk not to mess with me, my way."
He rolled his eyes.
"Aye aye cap'n."
Barely registering it at all, he shut the call off and let his drone come to a stop above the location. He knew his client decently enough, and it was a small job, so it wasn't like he'd care for losing the credsticks if he wasn't legit. As he settled himself against the wall with Seattle's nightly breeze as his only companion, Quint popped open a bag of his favorite soy-fish chips, crunching on a few as he ordered his drone to record. Sure, he’d be getting paid tomorrow, but for now there was some entertainment.
Spent maybe a bit too much time reading through the Rigger 5.0 PDF, so I kinda lost track of it all, haha. Anyways: his character is pretty straightforward, I intended to make him a dedicated rigger type, but ended up having him at least be a little capable with a gun. He can do some hacking too, but he probably needs a dedicated hacking buddy at some point.
I went a little detail light on the backstory since I wanted to have a bit of leeway with the specifics re: plot hooks, but there should be enough in there to chew on.
Still working on his contacts/sheet, but he's got at least his 'Uncle' and an old friend from New York. Looking forward to feedback! And maybe more new apps?
Last edited by gravitywolf; Nov 11th, 2018 at 01:55 AM.
Nov 1st, 2018, 01:28 PM
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