Saint-Ain't
Mr. Neil Tobias St. James (a.k.a. Sain't Ain't, The Judas Man)
Written by: Null Kit
The desire to be prepared for any potential scenario that might present itself is a crucial element of Shadowrunning, and is in itself the very reason for this data-cache's existence. Magic represents one of the more difficult avenues of information gathering, both in its inherent unscientificness and in the limitated demographic of those who can fully explore its mysteries. However, the magic employed in shadowrunning is drastically different niche than magic used in a corporate-setting, the concept of 'wage mages' and the influence of the arcane on a scale that deals in demographics over simple numbers. For this reason, I've been tasked with contacting and procuring information on an inside-expert, a former Mage (currently of the Shamanic variety) of Ares Macrotechnology who goes by the alias of Saint-Ain't. They have agreed to supply my with the needed information along with his preferred methods of contact for involvement in future runs for our Barkeep, in exchange for assistance in maintaining his present sanctuary within The Concrete Forest. A word of caution: I can personally vouch for Saint-Ain'ts talents as a shadowrunner - the man is, if nothing else, a dangerously competant mage with years of experience under his belt - what I can't truthfully vouch for however, is his professionalism: Saint-Ain't has garnered a well-earned reputation as an anti-corp romantic, with enough sentiments against the AAAs and Ares in particular that I cannot guarantee his reliability if an opportunity to harm one of these corporations presents itself. Caveat Emptor, reader.Mental characteristics
Personal history
The man who would be known as Saint-Ain't was born as Neil St.James, along with four siblings to parents Luke and Janet St. James, both devoted employees of the Ares Macrotechnology megagorporation. Neil and his siblings were, naturally, immersed in the indoctrination and micromanagement of their entire lives to be shaped into the next generation of cogs for the corporate machine. Neil in particular was shown special attention for his magical aptitude and affinity towards astrally percieving, something of a commodity needed by Ares more than usual at the time, and so he was fast-tracked into numerous specialised learning programs that would lead him to a career in one of Ares' magically inclined divisions, eventually settling on internal investigations and enquiries.
'Internal investigations and enquiries' is ares-speak by the way, means he's basically a gopher.
And what's a gopher in human-speak?
Basically, ol' Neil did whatever needs doing that requires magic or astral perception. Like Null said, Ares was in need of talented magic-users at the time, so a sufficiently talented mage might be doing security one day and corporate feng-shui the next.Much of Neil's career was spent mobile, almost to a nomadic extent, as the difference in demand and supply of magically inclined employees would take him wherever Ares needed support in that area, typically in matters of security and ensuring that their business isn't provoking disturbances in astral space (at least, none that might affect their bottom line). Neil earned no shortage of accolades for his service, and with his position came the privilege of a higher security-clearance for an employee who wasn't technically a full corporate citizen. This privilege however, would give Neil a first-hand view at some of the less wholesome elements of a megacorporation that are typically saved for the more indoctrinated of his peers, something which would begin to wear on Neil's conscience. Megacorporations have always been expected to deal with their problems internally, and at the time Ares was't just an adherent to this guideline, it was practically a zealot. Neil's relationship with Ares began its slow and painful end, and the man known as Saint Ain't began to emerge amidst the 2060s, following Ares' victory in implementing Operation Extermination. The corporation wasn't at all content in simply sitting on its proverbial laurels, especially with the crushing expenditures and the naturally limited avenues of profit from a market as niche as fighting insect spirits. The need for quarterly earnings outweighed the perceived risks, and research was changing from simply combatting the creatures to outright exploiting them, such was corporate greed.
If the old Shadowland BBS, god rest its code, is to be believed then this research into making personal use out of insect spirits has been happening on a smaller scale since the '50s, probably earlier. And let's face it, there's not a lot of reason to be skeptical of that...Inevitably, these attempts at researching and monetizing otherworldly abominations would begin to backfire and cleanup crews would need to be sent in, both to contain the mes and to make sure no hint of what happened in those blood-soaked labs would ever reach the public by any means necesarry. St. James, then an experienced combat mage, was brought in to ensure the situation was just as contained astrally, as it is physically. For Neil, the last straw was in early 2068, a simple retrieval operation: A whistle-blower was fleeing Detroit with a datachip full of hard evidence connecting Ares to multiple 'isolated incidents' of insect spirits running loose, intending to trade it for an extraction to an as-of-yet unidentified thirtd party. Neil's team was ordered to stop the whistle-blower's vehicle by any means necesarry and ensure the evidence was either retrieved or destroyed, and they managed to accomplish their objective in a manner appropriate to Ares: with overwhelming violence. The car, although armored, was rendered completely inoperable within seconds of the first shot, and the same could easily be said for everything inside. The damaged datachip was recovered and the whistle-blower was killed in the midst of the shooting. As were his wife and son in the passenger-seats. The team's efforts to engage the target at his most isolated meant there was nobody to witness what had happened, and so the two passengers were immediately written off as 'acceptable collateral damage' while the operatives were offered additional payment to ensure their discretion. For Neil however, this was insufficient to assuage the guilt of what he had done.
I gotta call bull about this. Wetwork isn't exactly everyday for corpsec, but this is the only time he killed a civvie after fifteen years of combat maging?
It happened before, this was just the tipping-point. Folk wonder why people go from 0 to 60 when really they've been at 59 for a while.Before extraction could begin, Neil made an impulsive move that would change him forever: As the rest of the squad admired their work, a pair of flashbangs tumbled down at their feet. By the time the blinding lights had dissipated, the recovered datachip was gone and so was Neil, sprinting down the nearest alleyway, pulling off his tracker-chipped jacket and putting as much distance between himself and his now-former teammates as possible.
What was your plan, sir?
Step one: grab the chip and run away. Step two: think of a plan.Against all laws of propability, Neil was able to succesfully vacate the area and avoid the wrath of Ares, albeit at the cost of his equipment and most of his clothing. Feeling a duty to the corpse whose wife and son he took part in killing, Neil made efforts to restore and publicise the remaining fragmented data on the cracked and worn datachip he stole, but the scarcity of useful data and the lack of any resources beyond the stolen clothes on his back meant he was unable to meet his goals before Ares' PR department stonewalled his goals by way of covering up the incidents with plausibile cover-stories and painting the rogue mage as a 'mentally unstable terrorist'. In spite of his complete naivete of life outside of the corporate shadow, Neil began to eke out a meagre existence in whatever slum or z-zone he could flee to, putting his magical expertise to use in surviving outside of society. Ares' fervour in hunting Neil down waned as his percieved threat to the corporation diminished, despite Neil himself taking up a personal cause in putting Ares down for its atrocities, and began offering his knowledge to anyone with a score to settle with Ares. This escalated from instruction into direct participation, until eventually Neil had found himself embracing the shadowrunner lifestyle under the alias 'Saint-Ain't'. To this day, Saint-Ain't remains in a barrens-settlement known as The Rampart, looking after what little in the way of sane community has cobbled together in the barrens and rarely leaving, safe for the occasional shadowrun against Ares Macrotechnology.
Gender Identity
Male, He/Him
Sexuality
Straight
Education
High-School graduate, claims to have formerly held a bachelor's in 'Appreciation of television'.
Employment
Officially unemployed, Saint-Ain't takes it upon himself to look over any magic-oriented task needed of him by the inhabitants of The Rampart.
Personality Characteristics
Savvies & Ineptitudes
Saint-Ain't's talents as a magic-using combatant are rarely found wanting or unable to meet the standards set by rumors and hearsay, as the man demonstrates remarkable capability in interweaving offensive and defensive casting with his highly honed skills in conventional combat. However, the man himself admits that his style of casting is 'front-loaded', intending to overwhelm enemies within the opening seconds of an engagement but cause him to quickly lose momentum as a conflict continues.
Not a bad way of going about things if you ask me. Folk like us want to avoid extended fights in the first place, so getting a fight finished as quickly as possible is in our best interests.
Alignment
Chaotic Good
Current Location
Age
Uknown, late-30s
Birthplace
Detroit, Michigan
Children
Eyes
Green
Hair
Brown, Mulleted
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Tanned
Height
5'11''
Weight
164 lb.
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