Character concept: Lonely lost sweeper/writer.
The idea is a Lost who desperately wants to find someone like her, someone else who knows what life is infected by the W/ML Virus. She escaped onto Mars and found that the skills the project gave her allowed her to become a Sweeper far too easily. In-between jobs she writes books, her wishes made writ.
Background: Lost
Faction: Mercurial, in the way that the first sentence describes it. She has no interest in trying to be "human", the Lost and the Asyncs should go there own path. Lovely parallel with the uplits and AGIs: Made by humanity, in the image of humanity and raised to try and become as human as possible, yet still not of humanity.
Motivations/Memes: Writing the truth, It's a very lonely world, Cognite must know more.
Lost'y part:I was later told that the transition between the Simulspace and reality was to be smooth, planned out as it was. That was, of course, before the whistleblowing and media attention forced the early closure of the project. How it actually happened was something else. Just hanging around with my friends, doing a bit of target practice, and then I was floating in a healing vat, with a Dr. MacLeod pulling me out of the white gel. There were... six or eight of us in his group and I was one of the last ones he took out. The room we were in had... Hundreds, thousands, all lined up and yet he only chose our group. I only recognised two people in there, one guy from my geography class and another who lived maybe six doors down. He talked with amazing confidence, even as we were escaping and guards tried to stop him and us from escaping. He must have been either an Async or a quite able psychosurgeon, as he just told the guards to hand over their weapons and they did. The, with no delay, he shot both of them in the head, calmly ripped out their cortical stacks and proceeded on. Nothing too shocking, I'd seen similar events in the simluspace's alleys and dark corners, but the complete lack of reaction on his part.... It was unfathomable with how our minders always fussed about behaving and kindness and all that... We would be taken to a small shuttle by him, before he grinned at us and said the last sentence before I left Phobos.. I'll never forget it, not willingly at least.
"The technical term for what you can do is the Watts-MacLeod virus, and for that you can thank me."
First Adventure:Mars is not a nice place to live if you're Lost. When the story of the escapees broke, billions of credits were spent on Ego hunters. Evading ego hunters, especially Direct Action hunters, when they have detailed psychoanalysis of you is a rather difficult task. I needed to get off the Red Rock. I gathered a few like minded people, and we went Ego Hunting. Ego Hunting is an odd job. No qualifications are needed, and the right targets were... Well, to use a cliché... No Questions asked. Of course, those people are typically the hardest to kill. So, a plan was made. The target was the leader of a Barsoomian group that opposed the PC, while the contractor failed to identify themselves (OOC: It begins with O and rhymes with Blight). We went in, lightly armed but with extensive usage of what another non Lost Async called "Slights". We came out four fewer, but with a bloody Stack clutched in a victorious fist. Waiting for us were Ego hunters. It was a slaughter, Plasmaburst mines and Assault Rail rounds killing us, the barsoomians, everyone left right and centre. I got out only by the non existent skin of my teeth (bloody stupid phrase) by grabbing a Buggy and getting the fuck out. The Contractor seemed surprised that we managed to get the stack to him, but he paid us anyway. The increased Credits from not having to divide it so many ways has let me buy my way onto a ship bound for Venus instead of Ego Casting. Finally of this fucking dust ball and into somewhere else. Fuck Cognite. Fuck them.
