The Prison <OOC|Open|Interest>

[Stattr]

Interested.. interested.. a few questions before I roll a character, if I may?

I'm guessing PMT due to plasma weaponry, we clearly have reasonable robotics technology for the Halflings; but what about the software side? Are robots a thing in the Prison -rare or otherwise-? And as for that matter, AI?

Their are robots, but only those who are "recycled" (Half human and Hlaf robot) if I recall correctly.

Second, what kind of defenses are we talking here.. do people wear armor or not bother with it? Guns are clearly the norm, but considering the possible resource-scarcity, do people use melee weaponry still beyond emergencies?

no armor that I am aware of

Finally: Are there any forms of towns, cities, markets beyond faction-controlled HQs? A single free market town, centrally based? Strings of unaligned villages? Or are the front lines defined on who's in front or behind them?

I'll get to work on a guy now.. oh; crossbows aren't irrelevant are they? Seems less resource-intensive than firearms for one.

[TechTown]

NAME:Nicholas "Satyr" Sparksson
GENDER: Male
AGE: 31
No picture, I'm afraid. I'll do my best with wordplay, however I'm probably only a mediocre wordsmith.

*ahem*...
A bizarre-looking person, even in the varied populace of the Prison. Nicholas is clearly a halfling even at a glance. Though it could be said he's taken the word perhaps a tad too literally. The lower half of his body replaced by robotics, thus walking on legs of steel and brass. The lower half of his spine and small of the back is covered in metal plates designed to flex akin to large scales or armor, with his upper body remaining fully human. And no, I'm not saying anything about the state of his 'plumbing'. Even I'm not sure. I'll just say that 'plumbing' is pretty accurate for him.
The legs are clearly not built on the standard model, bending back and ending in claws more resembling a bird's talons than a human foot. This esoteric appearance earned him the name "Satyr", a name that Nicholas has in turn applied to his legs and lower-spine. At least he's stable on his feet with them however, and with his improvements is rarely beaten in sprinting. And let's face it, who can beat a robot-legged man in endurance running? He's banned from leg-related sporting events, incidentally.
Now let's get to the human side of things. Light frame, olive-skinned, hardly surprising with the Prison 'recycling' all sorts of skin tones. Dark brown medium-length hair, approaching black, is tied back to avoid getting into the eyes. Clothing is utilitarian, shirt and jacket in dark greys and browns with toolbelt and occasionally crossbow bolt bandolier. Clothing universally hangs about a foot below the belt line like a tunic or tabard to act as covering for whatever he hides down there. Probably just a hatch. One of the few armor-users seen around in the Prison, possibly due to the weight his legs can take. When ''out in the field'', he commonly wears a chain breastplate and bracers under the bandolier. Mostly useless in the gun-using prison, he claims. It's simply a case of ''better safe than sorry''. Orange-tinted goggles too; -normally hanging around his neck- connected via a matrix of wires leads down to the small of his back under the outer layer(s) of clothing to allow for the heads-up display. Most are redundant backups in case a single wire is snapped, but enough being broken disables the goggles or certain functions.

ALIGNMENT: Follower of the Impossible, for the time being
PROFESSION: Roboticist/Halfling mechanic
EXPERTISE: Roboticist - Able to understand, manipulate robots and robotic parts. Transfers to related technologies and some computers, though not a programming specialist. Within reason, he's not a genius with technology, just someone with some talent and a bucket of experience at fixing Halflings up to throw at a problem. Not too shabby with most weapon technologies though, and has rudimentary biology and first aid from working on halflings with doctors at tech-joints.
Gargoyle - On-board computer within the Satyr parts gives Nicholas additional support in dealing with any virtual and cybernetic phenomena, but for battle capabilities; in addition to a constructed pair of vis-gogs, short for visor-goggles as it happens, gives Nicholas warning against incoming projectiles, zoom function and marks distance. Unfortunately, no infra-red or suchlike. Just a zoom. Takes pictures, but no film function. Computer is called "Gargoyle", for.. reasons. Yes yes.
WEAKNESSES: Battery-Powered - Modified parts have a greater draw on bodily resources than typical halflings, requires charging one every week with minimal usage, or every three days typically. Spare fully charged batteries CAN be substituted, but weight and unique shape mean this is uncommon in the field. Lack of energy cripples him.
Poor senses - Sight is sharp -to inhuman levels when hooked up to Gargoyle- but hearing, scent and touch are dulled. Easily surprised, ambushed or remains unaware to hazardous environments. Also burns food if he forgets about it, not smelling the smoke. But that's not particularly relevant here.
WEAPONRY: Repeater crossbow. Think of the Crossbow in Bioshock for an idea of it's operation -and look, in hindsight- a cartridge of a half-dozen bolts are loaded onto the bow and a single lever draws the string back and prepares a bolt for firing. I'd like to note Nicholas is capable of using firearms, about above-average to good marksman with one. Hell he could make one in his shop aside from the ammunition! However forsaking gunpowder does lower his expenses.
Not quite a weapon.. per sae, but the Satyr legs are clawed and -like nearly every halfling part- extremely hard and pretty durable. Kicks are painful, and with the happy little bonus of what amounts to a pointy vice on the end of each. Have fun.
A dagger completes the assembly, but I'm pretty sure every man and his dog has a dagger or knife -just in case- in the Prison anyway. It's probably taken as granted.

Apparently "Born" in the Prison with the cybernetic replacement/augmentations, Nicholas retains no memory of parentage or receiving the -then standard human- parts and thus is assumed to be a Prison-born. Registered simply as "Spark-son" for parentage in the local archives, he would later adopt the label as his name. Growing up in what was a fairly neutral area, Nick was simply a street urchin with more metal than most; until he eventually almost stumbled across a mechanic's shop and started to learn the craft.
Proving to have a talent and a wish to improve the lot of his fellows in the slum area, he experimented on junk and them his own parts; developing the skills he retains and polishes to this day. With the arising of the "Impossible", he was struck with the idea of an outside world with far superior technology, one that could build the Prison for one. Now partly disillusioned with the actions the faction is taking; he holds on to the hope that breaching the Prison would allow for a higher quality of life with the outside technology.
Currently working as a halfling's equivalent of a doctor for their non-organic parts, he studies the Prison in general in his spare time. Hoping to find some hidden back-door out or some exploitable weakness that exists. Thus far, he's found many ways it's indestructible. Or occasionally takes remarkable offense at being examined. Because of this 'hobby', he occasionally finds himself with parties of more... mercenary natures for mutual protection in his exploration.
A dark-humored fellow, he's well aware of the hypocritical position of belonging to a faction who's methods he doesn't believe in, and the pointlessness in his search. Still he finds amusement in the antics of others and of the various factions, lending a "satyr"ical look on events. It's just his gig, y'know? Doesn't make friends and comrades particularly easily, but has been known to defend the ones he does make to scary lengths.

"Is this goin' to take much longer Satyr? Only I got things tah d-"
"You move, I'll cut your arm off and finish fixing it without you. Stay still."
The grumbling 'patient' now mostly silent, the mechanist busied with the tattooed street bruiser's mechanical arm. Half the size of the massive man on his workbench, arm stuck out to allow the delicate tools of the halfling 'fixer' to enter under the protective plates the weaponised limb.. the man in charge was nevertheless the 'doctor' of the proceedings. And seemingly not just because of the operation.
"What happened to you anyway Jay?.. I take a couple days sightseeing and I find you with some of my best work torn in half.. you been fightin' with Sammy the watsit.. sandwich? Sausage?", peering over the top of his lenses; the mechanic looked at the bruiser's face with some genuine worry. "He's bad news, you know that."
"...the Slicer. That's whut 'e calls hisself. An' it weren't him. Some geezer who breezed into town. I.. someone started a fight 'n' this happened.", muttered "Jay".
"Hrmmh. And so you're not going to step onto those streets again just to get this marvel broken I hope, to defend your imaginary line in the mud to show who's dirty street is supposedly who's.."
"I-it's not like that, you know that Nick.. we all were in the fights when we were young'uns.. heh, though you got out of it."
"Speaking of 'getting out of it', your arm's repaired. Reconnecting.. there. Yours to break, again. Should probably upgrade soon y'know, but while I'll patch you up cheap; I'm not a complete charity. Even I need to eat somewhat.. oh, and do yourself a favor and actually keep it oiled this time? There's a good fellow."
Grinning sheepishly, the gang leader slipped out of the workshop. A small pile of money left on a bench as payment, leaving the fixer in the room alone. Sighing, Nicholas tidied the equipment away; throwing a metal hook into the steam-cleaner for next time someone needed both a doctor and fixer.. those cases could so easily be a nightmare, fortunately it was just a scratch that had hit awkwardly.
Solder iron hooked there, that 2'' goes.. there, tidy everything away to be ready to make a mess of again the next time someone needed their repair-work repaired.
Shaking his head with a chuckle, Nicholas paused by the interior door from the workshop. Harsh white lighting illuminating the grisly-looking disembodied limbs.. fingers and eyeballs waiting repair or installation lined up on the locked glass-fronted counter, even a couple of display pieces, an arm with shotgun built into it taking the dubious pride of center stage in this hellhole of a town. All as it should be, even the faint red stain on the floor was in it's way reassuring.
"Until next time..", he muttered. Flicking the light off for the night.

Chucked some lengthy parts into spoilers to minimise post size, anything that needs polishing, replacing, needs shooting me in the head for?

[New Sapienta]

<whistles>

[Mondrova]

Is this going anywhere. I mean no IC even, pretty premature death of a thread.

[Ile Tobi]

And 2 unreplied application what about co-op.

[New Sapienta]

I do believe this RP has been abandoned gentlemen.

Who shalt become the ney OP/Co-Op?

[TechTown]

...well, this sucks. Was really looking forward to what was going to happen here; though I'm certainly not OP material.

[Stattr]

...well, this sucks. Was really looking forward to what was going to happen here; though I'm certainly not OP material.

I am...I've Rped and made two RP's, been Co-op for many more.. I'm not joking either.

[TechTown]

...well, this sucks. Was really looking forward to what was going to happen here; though I'm certainly not OP material.

I am...I've Rped and made two RP's, been Co-op for many more.. I'm not joking either.

[Stattr]

I am...I've Rped and made two RP's, been Co-op for many more.. I'm not joking either.

Monty Python and the holy grail. Loved that one.

Gimme till at least sixth hour...

[TechTown]

Alas, an rp that failed before it could even begin..

Mr. Krabs, if you would be so good..