Xerxes

Xerxes was a biomechanical science experiment gone awry. At first he was an attempt at creating a fully functional organism out of individually and artificially grown parts. They succeeded in growing his brain, lungs, heart, stomach, and sensory organs, and in linking them together to create what could only be described as a pile of conscious meat, but little more. Attempts to grow bones or additional organs failed over and over again, whether they tried to grow them separately or direct from his existing parts. Most of the organs died and began rotting while still attached to him, forcing them to be hastily removed, while bones failed to respond to genetic coding telling them what shape to take. It was a pitiful, agonizing existence that lasted for years.

Finally, the researchers gave up their original goal and shifted gears. Their new objective, in light of the new existence of true artificial intelligence, was instead to create the first true cyborg, a perfect marriage of organic and mechanical. With his condition deteriorating, the team was convinced they could not grow the remaining organs in time to put them to use. Instead they built condensed versions of the equipment already keeping him alive, and a rudimentary exoskeleton to support them and his organs. Much to the team’s relief, this time, it worked. Within six months, their creation had fully operational voluntary and involuntary biological and mechanical processes.

One night a chemical accident in the lab led to an explosion that blew out a whole corner of the building and part of the surrounding block. Xerxes and a handful of other experiments were able to escape amid the chaos. Once the debris had been cleared and the damage assessed, the research company found enough evidence to suggest that the missing subjects had most likely perished in the explosion or subsequent fire.

The creature learned very quickly how to survive on the streets, with the help of some local criminals. Seeing the value in half flesh, half robot muscle, they presented him to the mob boss, who welcomed him into the family. He immediately began modifying his fragile body, first to provide better protection, and then to look the part. His taste for gold and purple led his bosses to nickname him Xerxes after the Persian king, and he adopted the name officially. Xerxes spent years working for them, gaining notoriety and respect as an especially ruthless fixer, until a rival family led a city-wide assault and assassinated all but a few high-ranking members, effectively crippling the family and leaving the path wide open for the attackers to claim their territory.

Enraged, Xerxes rallied surviving members and angry locals who had been affected by the violence and wanted to seek justice they knew wouldn’t come from police. The reputation he built and experience he gained working for the family served him well and made him an effective and charismatic leader. His subordinates feared him for sure, and knew better than to anger or disappoint him; but more importantly, they believed in his goal and his ability to reach it. In return, he made sure his men were well taken care of and rewarded handsomely for good performance. They are rightfully terrified, but unflinchingly loyal.

In just three years, his “family” was powerful and coordinated enough to overthrow the ones who had killed his predecessors. As an extra measure of humiliation, Xerxes gave those of his rivals who survived the initial assault an ultimatum: they could work for him as grunts, forbidden from ever being promoted, or they could die a disgraceful, undignified death of his choosing. Most chose death. He made examples of all of them.

Xerxes is now the ruler of an expansive criminal empire intimately interwoven throughout the city, from the seedy underground to the highest officials. He is a textbook womanizer and his respect is difficult to gain. He doesn’t think people are inherently beneath him, but need to prove to him that they are worthy of his respect. He likes people who can keep him on his toes and are not afraid of him, and would like his last words to be “Well-played.”.

He has a very well-guarded secret affinity for cats, and routinely feeds the local strays from his balcony. His favorite is a large tabby longhair he named Capone, after an old scar on his face from a fight with another cat. He likes Capone so much that the cat lives inside the house more often than not, and even has a luxury leather collar. A not insignificant sum of Xerxes' regular cashflow gets automatically forwarded to a bank account strictly for Capone.