| "The mage with a mouth. Shaman actually, but it's all the same to us mundanes, right? *smiles* A mixed deck, sometimes very reserved, sometimes joking and loud. No cyber-ware of course--that would compromise his relationship with coyote-spirit. Akote`'s relatively new to Seattle. But he's made his mark on the streets, and managed to land himself a place on the team in short order. A big accomplishment if you ask me, considering the Leader of this varied bunch hates magic with a fraggin' passion. Impressive that he works so well if you want my opinion. |
| He's the only spell-slinger on the team. But, I've heard (and you should really keep your mouth shut on this one) that he has some other edge. A chummer of mine apparently had a bad run-in with him when he tried to squat at some abandoned apartment building in Redmond. I think his exact words were, 'If you hear that howl of his, and you'll know it when you hear it, you better motor. That guy's not fraggin' around.' But, before I could ask him what he meant by this, the injuries he sustained got the best of him. *sigh* Poor ol' Juno. Anyway, it honestly goes without saying that he's not just some tourist out for chip money. Just between you and me, he's looking for something, I'd wager. *laughs* Then, again, aren't we all? Rumor has it that he's the son of Stonefoot, a shamanic runner that got flatlined a while back. Whatever he's looking for, I wouldn't get in his way. You might end up like my poor chummer Juno." |
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| Akote |
| "Awwe. Mr. Cybered-out-the-hoop stompin' around like he owns the earth biggypants can't handle a little ball lightening? Maybe next time you should get a latex touch up on that disgusting metel drek, motherfragger." |
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| "You know what urks me? What bothers me is the souped-up, tricked-out, thrown-together with a drekload of junk streetwalking nimrods that think they can get one-up on a guy just because he doesn't have any chrome jutting out of his body. Seattle is full of 'em. I can't get the stink of hydraulic oil out of my nose for ten seconds before another one shows up, wanting to know why I'm sitting in his barstool. I mean you'd think that I have an electromagnet in my fraggin' pants the way I attract these clowns. Not that I hate everyone that's got a cybernetic implant or anything. I'm just sick of these walking salad-shooters who think that a chopdoc can make them some trid action star! So, just a word to the wise--If you got cyber, fine. But, if you think that makes you hot drek, then you've got a lesson to learn in the conductivity of metal. Now let me finish my dreky beer before I decide that that chipjack on your head would look better with 20,000 volts flying through it." ~Akote (when asked his thoughts on Seattle) |
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