Player: Abram

Character Name: Abram Thewlis

Age: 26

Sex: Male

Species: Raccoon

Height/Weight: 5'10"/ 150 lbs. (Can vary due to his limbs)

Social Status: Outer Class

Description: Abram is, in a very loose sense of the word, a cyborg. Though, it could more accurately be said that he's just loaded with prosthetics. Both of Abram's legs, and his left arm all the way up to the shoulder, are not flesh and bone, but metal, plastics, wires, hydraulics, and gears. By the look of them, they appear to have been cobbled together from scavenged pieces of dead machinery and recently "killed" feral bots. It is not a particularly enjoyable lifestyle, as he must constantly hunt for replacement parts that will maintain, or even in rare cases increase performance, and keep his parts safe from scavengers, but it is one he bears with a grim resolution.

The pieces of the procyonid that are robotic vary in terms of looks, performance, and ability to remain hidden. More often than, he is able to keep his parts generally smooth and maintained, as his life depends on it. He knows where to look to find the parts he needs, but almost never does he find what he really wants. The choices of robotic attachments in the Mid and Undercities generally range from useless to junk. He has two sets of leg limbs: one used for when he wants to be extra stealthy, and another for daily use. The former is almost never used except on special occasions, as the most advanced and well-maintained parts he found went into them. He values them as he does his own life, because losing them means he loses everything.

Abram is a purebred raccoon, but he is anything but an average example of his species. His profession and his lifestyle, which are very much one and the same, have convinced him that he must remain in fairly good physical condition, as if he is without his prosthetics, he is virtually helpless. What little body he has left is healthy (as healthy as an Out Classer can be, that is) and some signs of muscular definition are clear. At least, when he lets people see it. Having lived with his metal limbs for several years (what some would called a miracle), he’s developed himself into a lean, mean, thieving machine, and usually wears heavy coats and wrappings to try and keep his special condition as hidden as he can. When possible he will slap some kind of artificial covering over his robotic parts to try and complete the illusion, though it will always be obvious that something is different about him without the assistance of higher Uniclass technology.

His eyes are a dull brown, and rather droopy, as if he is always sleepy or melancholy about one thing or another, and his grey fur is darker and duller than usual. His mask and the black stripes on his tail are paler than most would think. Overall he seems to always be coated by a very fine layer of ash… something he would tell you is not inaccurate.

Personality: Abram is an introvert, saying little and almost never starting conversations. He does not like being seen in the open, and finding him in bars or nightclubs usually means he has hit a spectacular low that only alcohol can chase away, or he knows it’s a place to safely pickpocket or just frequent when he gets bored. He has an anti-social outlook on life, knowing that his survival depends on his ability to take what he can and convince people he isn’t worth mugging, and prefers to be a looker rather than a participator. Due to this he is a bit of a packrat, and his hidey hole is stuffed with spare parts and odds and ends he has collected, figuring that sooner or later they’ll come in handy.

Abram has no problems with swiping something if he figures it’ll be of use to him. But generally, he doesn’t like to take things that will really hurt someone else, and sometimes even gives to other people something he’s stolen from someone else. While he does like to keep himself in the shadows as much as he can, he has sympathy for the disadvantaged, since he knows first-hand what being on the fine line between free life and slow death is like. Sometimes, a poor family may find themselves suddenly gifted with a new(ish) heating unit, or a homeless person supplied with a valuable piece of machinery he can sell. If he can, he maintains a tradition analogous to Christmas: twice a year he’ll go on a binge of anonymous giving.

Of course, don’t be surprised if something else went missing in the same night.

Abram is quite non-confrontational, and though he does know how to defend himself from people who caught him in his illicit swiping, or from the dangers of Einheit City, he would much rather run for his life (and the safety of his limbs). He has some limited profession in firearms, since the best thieves never let anyone get close, but his metallic limbs, when they function correctly, can quickly become deadly, simply from the impact of swinging them and their pointy bits around. But he rarely commits to this, as spare parts are hard enough to come by as it is. Outright breaking one of his limbs would not be immediately lethal, but absolutely catastrophic in the long run.

After years of maintaining and looking after his mostly robotic body, Abram is also a quick thinker, fast learner, excellent improviser, and survivalist. He can think quickly and calmly in stressful situations, and is never given to outbursts of emotion, be they anger, happiness, or anguish. He enjoys finding out how things work, and could become a proficient hacker, if he had the time, want, and resources. He knows many of the ins and outs of the Midcity, and even has taken excursions into the high levels of Undercity.

In the end, he lives by two rules: Never give them a clear shot, and always have an escape plan.

Background:

Abram’s past up until he began living in Einheit City is sketchy. His parents will likely never be found in the recesses of his mind, though obviously both of them were raccoons like him. Other than that he knows next to nothing. He only remembers a terrible accident when he was fifteen, an explosion of some kind, which covered the ground with smoke and ash. A terrible pain in his legs and arm came soon after, before he blacked out entirely.

When he woke up, he was in the care of robotics expert James Maccabee. An aged and eccentric canine cybernetics professor who had had the fortune (or lack thereof) to live through the reforms of Einheit, and go unnoticed when he stole away from the increasingly hybrid Uniclass, he had taken his skills underground, working for those who had the money, or for crime syndicate lords who needed bots retooled for some nefarious purpose. Abram became his pet project, a living, growing test subject that he could use to uncover how best to integrate low tech with still growing and expanding muscle and nerves and bone. But much to Abram’s dismay, his mangled arm and legs, which could have potentially been saved at some point, were simply hacked off and his body put through a grueling healing and integration process with his new limbs. It was long and painful, lasting a full two years, and the curious were a constant danger. He hated James, but never spoke against him, knowing he was his only chance of survival in the battlefield of the Undercity.

At seventeen, Abram found he had to live on his own. James was killed by a vengeful overlord for demanding too much payment for too little work and joining his rivals after said payments were denied. At first the overlord thought to seize what was James’, and this included Abram. But the plucky raccoon had been chased off by James before the raid, and disappeared into the catacombs of the Undercity.

Abram came to the Midcity three years later, changed entirely from the naïve and terrified youngster he had been. He now knew what life was like in this mysterious and terrifying city, and his life up to this point has been a constant gauntlet of skirting Ministry patrols that may consider his parts a violation of some patent or another, and avoiding those who would scavenge the very mechanisms that give him life and the ability to even use his prosthetics. When he’s not doing that, he’s on the lookout for spare parts. It is a constant and wearying battle to keep himself hidden, safe, and maintained all at once. He has lived in many different locations, and never in the same place twice, making no friends, but several anonymous enemies with his thieving. Sometimes he will take a quick and easy job to get some badly needed credits, but to avoid drawing too much attention, he doesn’t like sticking with them for very long. His life is in near constant danger. But then, that seems par for the course in Einheit.

In the end, he lives by two rules: Never give them a clear shot, and always have an escape plan.