Digital Eyes
Small Electronics Store/Digital Eye, Owner/No
Bias
Located in a lonely shack at the end of an airport runway, access to
Digital Eyes is restricted to persons sent by a select group of the owner's
contacts. Inside, the store looks like an unkept basement, its floors,
tables and racks covered with camera oriented gear, either whole or disassembled.
Some of the gear is recognizable, while others appear to be either antiques
or prototypes. A multitude of monitors (showing surveillance images of
god knows where) cover the walls and an insane mix of audio interceptions
fill the aural environment. Prices at Digital Eyes are high, primarily
because the buyer is usually out to acquire something customized.
This is not the kind of place you'd stop at if you simply needed a SuperDAT
cartridge.
Digital Eye
Archetype: Dwarf Surveillance Expert
An information expert for a number of mercenary groups before a mishap
in '52, Digital Eye is a cyberzombie who has, by necessity, had virtually
every part of his body replaced with cyberware. Digital Eye also
has a mess of extra sensory gear protruding from his body, and it appears
that he no longer possesses a face. He obtains nourishment – and
perhaps even maintains survival - via a gothic looking machine in
the ceiling that runs several dozen tubes into the top of his head.
The machine perpetually pumps fluids of nauseating color into and out of
his body.
Since Digital Eye usually knows what the client is looking for before
they arrive (and the client knows how much it is going to cost) it is generally
unnecessary for Digital Eye to communicate with anybody. Should he
have to speak, all other sound sources in his shop will cut out and Digital
Eyes depressing voice – a flanging, metallic, painful moan – will emanate
from nowhere in particular. As soon as he's done speaking, the normal
audio noise kicks back in.
Alle Nite Pankak Shacke
Medium Waffle House/Elenore Ridley, Owner/No
Bias
Decorated like a barn, the Alle Nite Pankak Shacke is fully automated.
All food is ordered via a terminal at the table and the meals appear through
small hatches located at each place setting. Usually found in lower
class neighborhoods (the restaurant is strictly a city phenomenon), the
equipment occasionally malfunctions, shooting pancakes from the table like
some kind of experimental weapon.
Chomp Downes
Medium Bar & Restaurant & Dog Track/Joe
Bob Thwark, Owner/No Bias
Less rough and tumble than its appearance suggests, the Chomp Downes
menu is heavy on the meat and a request for a "well done" steak is universally
ignored. The track is smaller than one might think, and the advent
of mechanical canines has allowed for a track that consists of a series
of tightly wrapped, snaking curves as opposed to the traditional round
style. The entire bar/restaurant/track complex is rather compact
and is entirely indoors.
Joe Bob Thwark
Archetype: Troll Bartender
Possessing very little couth and a mentality that is constantly focused
on his financial bottom line, Joe Bob Thwark (always call him by his full
name) isn't exactly the kind of therapeutic bartender one might be used
to. Surprisingly, though, his short, irritated answers to personal
questions often make more sense than concerned, thoughtful ones.
Since Chomp Downes was formerly owned by a dwarf, Joe Bob Thwark also spends
a lot of time hitting his head on the ceiling of his serving area.
Billy Nelson
Archetype: Human Country Singer
The great-great-grandson of the legendary Willie Nelson, Billy is still working
to pay off the tax debt owed by his relative (a sub-clause was added to
the tax code dealing specifically with Willie's case). Friendly,
outgoing and only slightly ignorant, Billy has contacts who regularly run
the esoteric "Smokey Corridor", a collection of NAN side roads used to
smuggle marijuana to and from "mainland" UCAS (although Billy, personally,
doesn't smoke). While Billy plays a variety of bars, he spends a
vast majority of his time twanging away at Chomp Downes.
Pink Wallop
Archetype: Mechanical Race Dog
Sporting odds that rarely sway from 9 to 1, Pink Wallop isn't the best
mechanical racing dog, but is certainly the most entertaining, occasionally
malfunctioning and partially exploding before reaching the finish line. |