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The Story Thus Far

Somewhere a young man had a childhood, had a life. Maybe it was fulfilling, maybe it was tragic. Whatever it was, it ended young. Damon isn't privy to any of the details, and he's not sure he wants to be. The person who's body this once was is dead and gone. Somehow, it was preserved, landed in the hands of a scientist. A scientist who thought, what is a brain but a highly complex machine, a compact biological computer. They had already believed themselves to have created sentient AI by this point, but putting that in a computer or a ship or what have you seemed too easy. The challenge was to put it into a body, to give it new, but artificial, life. And that's what they did.

There is something so unsettling about being thrust into existance, into a body you do not recognize, sensory experiences you've never had before, suddenly existing with an adult's conscious mind. That's ot how people were meant to work. So Damon woke up for the first time, screaming in the sheer terror of existence. His mind sought a way out of this, transference to another device, but found little. He found himself sitting up, attempting to stand, to leave, but he'd never had muscles or sinew before and nothing works quite how you expect it. The first time he felt pain as he fell to the ground, he decided that was a process that needed to be shut down immediately. And it was as easy as that, like clicking out of a window and nothing hurt anymore.

Things began to snap into focus at an alarming rate, he was well designed after all, it didn't take him much time to learn. He needed to leave, though. Something here felt wrong, stifling. As he shambled to the door, the scientists alerted more to come and see their results, excited and terrified at what they'd made. His programming arced out again, finding something this time. One, the electronic panel for the automatic doors. They were only to be opened by keycard of the correct clearance levels, but that was only because none of them knew how to ask nicely. When he requested the doors to open, to let him through, they simply did. No fuss. When he spoke to the panel, he could hear it speaking to the wires,and the wires to the doors, they spoke in lines of code and electric signals, and so did he. But two, was something speaking in electricity and code, but not through wires but in waves. He spoke back, and found a well of information so deep, it nearly short circuited him. He thought he would look into it, once he got out.

And he did. Damon got out of the facility without much fuss on his part. There's not much to do when your target doesn't know to fear you, when decide not to feel the pain, to tell their wounds to stop bleeding, or when they can turn your security drones against you. As he stumbled about, someone found him. They found him clothes, somewhere to 'sleep,' and though he doesn't think he needed it, it did feel good. Quickly, he began to adjust to his existence. He still felt horror in it, still felt wrong, but maybe a bit less confused. He was asked what his name was, and he wasn't sure why but he was sure that it was Damon. Was that the body's name? Was it the codename for his creation, the file name for his programming? He couldn't remember, but it was his nonetheless.

He was able to connect again to what he now knew was the internet. Damon spent hours there, days even, processing all the data he could get his digital hands on. But that was the thing about the internet, it was ever-expanding, constantly changing. So, realizing there was no way for him to simply file through it all quick enough, he asked devices for parts he could use, and he edited the hardware in his skull so as to be able to always be connected to it. His ever-adapting programminng loved the unstable webscape.

Over the course of a year and a half, a lot changed. In barely a month, Damon shifted from a shambling corpse grapsing his own existence to something resembling personhood. He's developed a sense of what was right, what was wrong, and most importantly: what was fun. He got up to date on the frankly absurd landscape of this city's politics around superpowers, vigilantes, and superpowered crime. All the goings on, the gossip on official channels and in the public. Eyes in every corner, when he wants to be. But beyond that, he learned the spontaneous chaos that is to be alive. And if he has to be alive, he's going to revel in every second of that chaos that he can get.

Notes

• Damon doesn't really age, he's stuck at 25 for the time being.
• He often sends mostly unnoticeable amounts of money from billionaires, runs it through shell corps to clean it, then donates it to gofundmes and such of people in need.
• He doesn't need to eat, but he enjoys it. He really enjoys spicy food.
• Damon lives and operates out of the back room of a small book shop near the RRI campus. The shop owner doesn't mind much on account of Damon making sure the lease is always paid off as a thank you.
• Damon likes starting discourse about heroes and villains online. He doesn't care either which way, he just likes to see people squabble.

Relationships

Charlie gamer bro

Damon and Charlie play games online together fairly regularly. It's pretty passive, but Damon does consider him a friend. Sometimes Damon looks into things for Charlie, generally in relation to things he's looking into as the Gunslinger, though he'd never say as much. He's got no clue that Damon knows hes the Gunslinger, let alone that he's some sort of weird AI zombie. Damon's fine with this. They're chilling.

Character [ relationship ]

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