Name: Noua
Age: 23
Race:Undercity Elf
Zone of Birth: Schwebenwagen Heavy Industries
Current Employment Alignment: Rebel
Description: A tall and thin undercity ELF with long blonde hair and pale grey skin. His life in the coolant-soaked undercity tunnels of Schwebenwagen Heavy Industries has led him to be relatively unused to the tropical temperatures of the surface, he opts to wear nothing on his upper half, while allowing himself a pair of tight leather trousers to cover his legs and a pair of ankleboots to protect his feet. He covers his missing left eye with a black eyepatch. His remaining eye is fittid with a rangefinder and his arms are extensively augmented, with the right containing a miniaturised rotary gun and the left containing various technician's tools and a techcasting focus. He also carries a revolver on his hip, just in case.
Personality: He is socially inexperienced and has difficulty talking to people who he doesn't know, which he hides behind a dour expression and no-nonsense attitude. This has the unfortunate effect of driving some people away, but those who spend time with him see a quietly affectionate and voraciously determined man with a protective streak. Despite his attempt to defend himself with a mean façade, he all but melts in the company of those who present a warm and nurturing demeanor.
Abilities: Noua is well-versed in the repair and maintenance of various technologies and, due to his time in the rebellion, has picked up a notable knack for rigging up munitions and explosives.
Relationships:
Doamna: Cyberdrider in command of his rebel cell and the closest thing he has to a mother-figure. She used to be the coordinator of his old maintenance squad, and is largely responsible for his decision to join the cause.
Stamp: Artificate who awakened during a power surge caused by a lightning strike. Noua's squad was dispatched to assess the damage and perform repairs, but Noua decided to help them hide their awakened state and took them back to "conduct further repairs."
Important Life Moments:
Growing up in a dank undercity of Schwebenwagen Heavy Industries, Noua was born though the ELF procedure to live a long life of keeping the zone's massive robotic workforce running. Dispatched in one of many maintenance squads, he learned of how the rest of the populace cowered in small villages as their holdings company preferred to leave dangerous and malfunctioning tech husks to roam the surface, rather than spend a single cred to scrap them. As each day passed he grew sick of seeing the fearful eyes peering out of windows at him, but felt that there was nothing that could be done. That is, until his coordinator met him privately with a proposition.
She had been watching him, gauging his reaction to how the surface dwellers lived, and had deemed him suitable to help her with a side project she and a few other coordinators had been working on. Members of other squads had been fitting the robotic workers with discreet devices that could be remotely triggered, causing them to sabotage production lines and attack authority figures. Noua agreed. As time went on more of these devices were installed, and eventually there were entire factories of drones waiting to turn on their masters. A year after he had joined the operation, they were activated.
Thousands of mindless Drones went berserk, turning the district from an efficient machine into a warzone. The maintenance teams and their arachnid leaders withdrew downward with the nearby villagers, creating a secure society of rebels and fighters at the heart of a maze of underground tunnels and ducts. This was all well and good, but it would only be so long until supplies ran dry and the corps they had disrupted got to them, so Noua made a choice.
He, along with Stamp, left their corporate zone in search of allies and other companies that would have an interest in the downfall of their competitors.
Quotes:
"Can we please hurry this up? I feel like my skin's gonna evaporate out here."
"Yes, my hand has a vibrate function. No, you may not try it out."
"I'm horny, you're horny, this couch is machine-washable. Drop the pickup lines and drop your pants while you're at it."