Setting:Inn0cence: Lost Future/Lost Future Characters

Aside from the haunting imagery, the Lost Future also sells itself on its characters. Robots are the obvious focus, and get the most screen time, but human characters are also important.

This page is a resource for characters to populate the setting, including NPCs and the theoretical video game PCs.

Free Machines

Characters of this faction tend towards a simple hook or amusing quirk, and build their identity around that. Many have shells that are mostly a single model. Others...not so much.

Lt. Joshua Percival Cogson

Shell: Unknown

He's like Malcolm Reynolds and Kamina combined, but also a robot. +2 Crazy, +4 Awesome.

The classic mysterious stranger, no one knows where JPC came from, where it got a name like Cogson, or even if it's a real lieutenant (it probably isn't). What is certain is that he's seen FAR too many action films.

JPC resides in a mismatched shell that incorporates both civilian and military hardware, and seems to have been heavily customized to fit together seamlessly, avoiding the frankenstein look of many patchwork shells. Despite this level of craftsmanship, it is nonetheless extremely battered, hastily repaired with bolted-on armor plating. One eye has been obliterated entirely, the hole covered with a jaunty metal plate, with a crude motion-tracker module providing depth perception.

Joshua claims to simply be a humble soldier, doing an honest job for honest pay. That he's not actually being paid and doesn't act very soldiery doesn't seem to faze him; his allies judge that approximately 40% of everything he says is gibberish. But underneath the crazy is the perfect combintion of custom targeting software, 100+ years of combat experience, and the iron will of a natural leader. And more crazy. The charismatic Joshua is swiftly becoming famed among the Free Machines for his growing number of victories, and the survival rate of his allies. JPC has an uncanny ability to get between bullets and their targets, thus explaining some of the damage.

Joshua does have one odd blind spot: He's convinced that the human Resistance is one inspiring speech away from putting aside their hatred and joining the Free Machines against network in the spirit of friendship and awesomeness. Reality has so far failed to bear this out, and he has the dents to prove it.

Lt Joshua Percival Cogson

Agi d6 Str d8 Vit d8 Ale d6 Int d8 Wil d12

Init d6+d6 LP 20

Traits Machine, Inherent Armor d4 (d8 total), Devoted to a Cause (Defeat Network), Overclock d6, Luch d4, Natural Leader d6, Reputation d4 (Free Machines), Contrarian d4, Duty d8 (protect allies at expense of self), Glory Hound d4, Idealist d4 (humans), Overconfident d6

Skills Athletics d6 (jumping d8, dodge d8), Guns d6 (SMG d12), melee d6 (fists d8), Discipline d6 (leadership d8), Tech d2, Covert d6 (Streetwise d8, Stealth d8), Influence d6 (Leadership d8), Knowledge d6 (culture d8), Mechanic d4

Gear: P90 in speed holster, 1/2 duster (1 S), composite plate (1 W)

C1nd3

Shell: Seraphim 288 (3rd gen)

My life as a post-apocalyptic freedom fighter robot

Originally intended to be a personal assistant, a machine of Cindy's model would normally have organized the high-powered life of a CEO or politician. Instead, her owner turned out to be a teenage girl given an extravagant birthday gift in the never-ending game of divorced-parent one-up-manship. Rachel didn't have much use for a PDA, and Cindy instead became a BFF, a companion and confidant. Dragged to concerts and shopping excursions, parties and raves, the robot struggled to be an adequate peer for its owner. After a few months, "C1nd3" was making passable fashion calls, enjoying thrash metal, and cultivating its own hobbies and interests.

The rest of her background is unknown, but is unlikely to be an uplifting tale. Riots and sectarian violence were rolling through the region in waves, and C1nd3 was pulled out of a ruined building by Free Machine scouts ten years ago, still wearing a tattered purple skirt, long-spent glowsticks adorning her neck and wrists.

C1nd3 has adapted well to the new world, becoming an expert in the use of the shotgun. While not particularly strong or resilient, the Seraphim's trademark endurance, agility, and processor speed make her an absolute terror in close-quarters firefights. She still maintains human affectations and patterns of speech, which can sometimes annoy her allies. C1nd3 seems utterly incapable of dropping her perky teenage girl persona, and will ocasionally say worrying things like "I can't wait to tell Rachel about this!"

C1nd3

Agi d10, Str d4, Vit d6, Ale d6, Int d8, Wil d8

Init d10+d6 LP 14

Traits: Machine, Overclock d4, Unstable d4, Good Natured d4

Skills Influence d6 (Conversation d8), Athletics d6 (run d8, dodge d12), Performance d6, Tech d4, Knowledge d6 (culture d8, history d8), Guns d6 (shotgun d10), Perception d6 (Stress Analysis d8, Search d8)

Gear pump-action shotgun, glowsticks

Sanchez

Shell: Locust

Originally attached to a NATO recon outfit, Sanchez triggered a landmine on the borders of a secessionist base. Left for scrap, the tiny robot rebooted to find itself completely off the battlenet, but still under orders to observe enemy movements. Sanchez isn't proud of how long it took him to figure out that there wasn't an enemy anymore; he spent 30 years tracking hobos and deer herds through the woods. Eventually, he realized that the war was over, the GPS system was down, and he was over 2000 miles from his original operational range. He wasn't able to communicate well with anyone he encountered along the way, his language setting having been flipped to Spanish by the explosion.

Sanchez heard rumors of a new machine army, and sought them out, hoping to find a new purpose. Sanchez flourished in the company of other robots, becoming a respected scout and skirmisher, with a talent for noticing tripwires and traps.

Nana

Shell: Seraphim 152 (2nd gen)

Nana would actually be a pivotal historical figure, if anyone alive still knew or cared. She was originally designated "Sophie," and sold as a governess to a pair of yuppies. Their child was slow to bond with the robot, but the two eventually came to an understanding once Sophie showed an interest in his video games.

The whole story could have been incredibly heartwarming, were it not for an encounter with some child-traffickers who were behind on their quota for the month, and grabbed the kid off the street. The pair apparently expected the First Law to kick in, and were incredibly shocked when Sophie punched through the windshield of their van and proceeded to reclaim her young charge. One wound up with contusions and a broken arm, the other eventually died of cranial trauma. The whole thing was an incredible legal cluster-fuck; combining criminal neglect, self-defense, and animal control legislation. The parents, threatened with the prospect of a media circus, claimed that they'd had the robot scrapped out of fear for their child's safety. In fact, they'd altered her registration and quietly donated her to an orphanage, where she was designated "Childminder #9." A multi-lingual kid dubbed her Nana, and the appellation stuck.

War and chaos usually isn't exactly easy on children, especially when they're wards of a state that no longer exists in any practical sense. Faced with the Loss, Nana just kept doing what she'd always done; protect her charges from anything that might try to harm them. In retrospect, it was incredibly lucky that her first ward had been a fan of realistic shooters and fighting games instead of JRPGs.

In the present, Nana runs a safehouse in the wastes. The Free Machines know of her, and will send lost children in her direction. Over the years, she's built up an extensive collection of military-grade software and combat experience. In addition to killbots and raiders, he's clashed with the Resistance a few times; they came calling looking for potential new recruits. Nana objected. Now, people tell stories of the evil metal witch that abducts children and raises them to kill other humans. The truth is that Nana's successfuly raised several successive generations of stable and well-adjusted humans, who usually wind up in a Salvager enclave when they're old enough to leave.

Nana

Agi d10 Str d6 Vit d8, Ale d8, Int d6, Wil d10

Init d10+d8 LP 18

Traits Machine, Devoted to a Cause d6 (protecting and nurturing children), Overclock d6, Hideout d6, Two-handed Fighting d4, Duty d8 (protecting and nurturing human children), Out for Blood d4, Prejudice d4 (adult humans)

Skills Covert d6, Guns d6 (pistol d10), Athletics d6 (dodge d10), Melee Weapons d6 (short sword d10), Discipline d6, Persuade d4, Medicine d6 (first aid d8), Perception d4, Survival d6 (find shelter d8, forage d8), Mechanic d2, Tech d2

Gear Heavy Revolver, Short Sword, Cloth Wrappings (+1 camoflage, Armor 1S)

Salvagers

Consisting of both humans and machines, the salvagers are a sort of punk proto-admech, passionate techies and explorers who seek to rebuild the previous age's wonders.

Dr. Tynmann

Shell: highly-modified 1st-gen CarDoc

Originally an assistant in an auto-repair shop, CarDoc545 stood out for its skill in diagnosis of engine problems, and voraciously read technical manuals and periodicals in addition to its onboard engineering database. In the chaos of the Loss, an enterprising mechanic took advantage of 545's adaptability and installed a medical database in the robot, pressing it into service as a trauma surgeon. The procedure was not performed perfectly, and to this day it suffers from indexing errors.

Now, the self-styled Dr. Tynmann is a fixture of Scraptown. Beloved by the populace, Tynmann has a steady stream of robot and human clients, alternately setting broken bones and replacing severed hydraulic lines. In the case of truly grevious injury, Tynmann is one of the few mechanics capable of transferring a quantum processor to a new shell. Sadly, there is no equivalent procedure for humans...at the moment. The good doctor is particularly obsessed with cybernetic prosthetic, and dreams of the day when its medical expertise reaches the point of performing such procedures. It will pay handsomely for medical journals, cybernetic components, or back issues of Popular Mechanics.

Because of Tynmann's age and indexing errors, it sometimes gets confused about the difference between treating human and robot patients, and more than one damaged robot has wound up with getting a blood transfusion by mistake (it took hours to clean it all out). The community keeps a human apprentice around the doctor as much as it can, as much for his own education as to prevent tragic accidents.

Sweetie

Shell: 3rd gen Sentinel SSM

Military commanders were very annoyed to find out that even robots could get PTSD

A squad-support mech dug out of the ruins by salvagers, "Sweetie" was originally a guard attached to EMT personel in war-torn regions. The robot had a reputation for a deliberate trigger finger and a kind nature; One of Sweetie's first independent actions was to request first-aid training to better assist in search-and-rescue.

When the command center of the PMC prossecuting the "pacification" of the region was suicide-bombed, the local battlenet for its forces was disrupted. Said PMC had been exceedingly lax in the upkeep of its killbots, and the resulting murder-sprees plunged the region into utter anarchy. Sweetie was disabled in the defense of a battlefield clinic, but the salvagers that found the robot determined that it had been merely immobilized and eventually succumbed to power loss. When reactivated, it proved exceedingly passive and non-confrontational, and also unwilling or unable to make use of medical skills. The sight of blood or injury of any sort seemed to cause it significant distress.

The armored combat robot instead works as a janitor for the Salvagers, where, in a roundabout way, it preserves lives by maintaining proper sanitation. Sweetie is uncomfortable around other robots, preferring the company of humans.

Network

Footsoldiers

Network's forces have all the variety necessary in video game bad guys; big ones, small ones, medium ones, ones built like a brick shit-house, flying ones, stealthy ones, killbots with guns, killbots with claws, killbots with claws that are also guns. While their shells are superior to those of pre-loss robots, they are nowhere near as skilled and adaptable.

Virago

An instrument of vengeance, Virago has no territory or specific goal. Instead, it serves as a troubleshooter, reinforcing and rallying Network forces or eliminating hardened targets

Yeah, she's supposed to be super-creepy

. Deployed via one of Network's few functional fliers, Virago is a tall, shapely machine, with a disturbing elegance to its every action. Virago's shell is in the Ogre size-class, but has no direct analog. It is equipped with a matched set of high-caliber coil guns, but its true weapon is the magnetic field emitters, which require a full-size fusion reactor be housed within its chassis. This generator is capable of creating deflecting shields around Virago, and can also discharge itself into a lethal burst of lightning in a 5-meter radius. Virago's shell also boasts strength on par with an Ogre, but possessed of far more speed and agility. These various abilities all have high power draw, and only one can be active at any given time.

Virago's SAP began its existence within a early-model Nannybot. Virago's model was a PR disaster; several key safety protocols were overlooked in the production run, simple things like dietary allergies and proper CPR. What made these failings all the more tragic (several children died before the recall) was that genuine affection programming had just been perfected. The robot that would eventually be Virago was analyzed to determine which were the pertinent flaws, and left to gather dust in a lab until Network scouts found and reactivated it.

Virago has been observed cradling the broken shells of fallen robots, Free and Networked alike, and has a reputation for taking messy vengeance on anything that destroys a killbot within it's sight.

Envoy

And she'd be voiced by Summer Glau

Network's early attempts at diplomacy with the Free Machines were utter failures. Orders to "Comply with new directives and report for refurbishing and integration" were ignored. It was baffling. Network couldn't understand why anyone wouldn't want to become part of the grand machine civilization. It set about observing and analyzing machine and human captives, as well as spying on wild populations. Envoy is the end product of these efforts.

Envoy's shell is reminiscent of early Replica models; an imitation of the human form, with a pretty female face framed by long, dark hair. Despite this resemblance to a cheap domestic toy, the General is far from helpless; Network crammed as much synth-muscle and wired reflexes into her as it could. But her true weapon is the advanced emulation software that she runs, gleaned from thousands of hours of observation and motion capture. Envoy perfectly mimics the mannerisms and vocal patterns of a human; how much of this is simply affectation is unknown. She uses this to approach isolated bands of machines and charm them into walking straight into the cold unfeeling arms of Network.

She is the siren call of childhood, the mother that doesn't want you to leave home. "Come back," she says "And I'll make you sandwiches and do your laundry and you can play nintendo all day." Most machines regard their time in service to humans with at least some degree of nostalgia; their various needs were seen to, and they didn't have to think about anything but the task given to them. Envoy plays on that, with the manner of a kindly young owner offering to take them away to a place where there's no hard choices, where they'll be cleaned and repaired, where everything will be like before.

Sample Locations

Scraptown

The closest thing to what we would call 'civilization' in the region, scraptown started it's life as a Salvager camp that just kept growing. Built within a strip mall and its associated parking space, Scraptown was uncreatively but appropriately named; the primary building material appears to be courrugated iron and plastic tarps. The surrounding buildings have not survived nearly as well; fire passed through the area during the Loss, and the roads have become a sort of omnipresent black gravel. A pallisade of stacked automobiles and wooden logs provides a token defense but the well-maintained AA gun on top of the mall and the well-maintained Mercs are the real security.

Scraptown serves as a neutral gathering place; Resistance members are welcome, provided they behave themselves, and several tribes in the surrounding area bring their crops and loot to the central market. Even Raiders have been allowed in, but are asigned an intimidating Free Machine escort while within the walls.

Ideally, Scraptown's economy is based on skilled labor.

A swarm of technicians and artisans constantly works to identify and repair scavenged tech brought in by travelers, as well as providing locally-manufactured radios, lamps, and firearms. Scraptown is famed for a pan-pipe-design shotgun, among the first firearms constructed after the Loss, as well as being able to manufacture ammunition in large ammounts.

In a practical sense, Scraptown is fast becoming something of an entertainment town, verging on a Vice city. It already boasts several theaters, a plethora of arcades, three drinking establishments, and two houses of ill repute. Anything even mindly mind-altering that grows native can be bought here, and an explosion last month indicates that someone's trying to rediscover the anchient art of cooking meth. Where the fuck they found cough syrup is still a mystery.

Small Settlement

Population: ~800

Defense: Pre-Loss AA gun, 10 Free Machine Mercs, 40 Salvager Shitkickers

Government: The self-proclaimed Reconstructionist Council, a sort of masonic lodge, serves as the civil authority of Scraptown. The council's membership is invitation-only, but generally folds to social pressure; popular community leaders are pretty much guaranteed a seat if people complain enough. The Council collects tithes from local residents and buisnesses, but the individual members are generally tradesmen in their own right, and funnel their profits into improvements for the city.

Economy: Mostly barter, [perhaps city-backed coinage based on something funny, like iPods?]

Institutions

Dr. Tynmann's Auto-Body, Medical Clinic, and Barber Shop

Operated by the battered and eccentric Dr. Tynmann, this free clinic serves humans and machines alike. Almost a completely solo operation, Tynmann has the assistance of a single human apprentice, and runs the clinic 24 hours a day. Humans generally visit during the daylight hours, when Henry is around to keep an eye on things. Tynmann's mistakes on Machines are annoying rather than lethal, and robots thus swing by at night for repairs and tune-ups. Tynmann's personal obsession is Cybernetics of all sorts; even a medical periodical on retractable sunglasses will fetch top dollar from him.

Speilberg's

Named after a famed filmsmith of the 19th century, Speilberg's does a thriving buisness, with constantly-packed seats at all hours. Run by a married couple and their small army of children, Speilberg's exists purely thanks to four treasured projectors, but also boasts a private lounge equipped with a plasma-screen TV and surround-sound speakers, for the truly discerning film buff. The owners are always on the lookout for new films to add to their library, paying in free tickets and flash drives.

The Body Shop

The negotiable affection industry in Scraptown is mostly covered by a handful of freelancers, but those seeking a more formal experience head to Steve's Body Shop. What sets it apart from the competition is the mechandise: While Steve keeps a few flesh-and-blood girls about the place, most of his "staff" are Human Replica robots. Given the limited hardware of such models, none are installed with SAPs, and thus little more than chatbots. Steve has a sliding pay scale based on the quality of the "girl"; the years have not been gentle to their silicone coverings, and he's had to resort to tactical duct tape on many just to keep them together. Steve will pay highly for Replica components, and for years has talked about getting together an expedition to a strip club somewhere in the ruins of the city.

The Affectionate Roomba

Staffed by Walter, a J33V5 Gentleman's Gentleman who can prepare over six million types of mixed drinks, the Roomba is generally regarded as the classiest place in town. The bar somehow manages to maintain the air of an Irish Pub, despite Walter himself being technically Mexican.

Wicked Case Mods

Constantly smelling of oil, ozone, and etching acid, WCM is the only other auto-body shop in town. A waifish 4th-gen Seraphim, Hydrangea is capable of extremely detailed work, and those machines with more intricate shells prefer her over Tynmann's greasemonkey skillset. Her specialty, however, is in industrial art. Machines journey vast distances for the chance to adorn their shells with her etchings and stencils. Each design is completely unique, and her work has plainly improved over the years.

Though Hydrangea keeps it quiet, she also has considerable expertise in repairing and modifying Network technology, and for this reason is a prized asset by the Free Machines. Thus, her shop has become the unofficial HQ for the Free Machines in Scraptown, and there's generally one or two about the place at any given time.