Dolor "Mo" Motus
To the town of Agua Fria rode a stranger one fine day...
Dolor Motus (a.k.a. Mo)
Dolor Motus is a 95% total conversion cyborg, or in his own words a "synth identified ind'vidual." He works in and around ISC space as a freelance contractor, specializing in corporate and governmental espionage with a smattering of small unit tactics, intimidation, and assassination job on his resume. He enjoys the finer things in life, like nice suits, something good to smoke (his lungs being the largest biological portion of his remaining body, by mass) and seeing new and interesting places.
Physical Description
Body Features
Molor Dotus stands 5'6" at the head (5'10" if you count the hat) and cuts a generally unassuming figure. He is outfitted in what might charitably be called "Diaspora Chic" although the tailoring on the suit is too nice to blend in the Diaspora and the style is too archaic to really fit the ISC. His upper faceplate is inarticulated and non-mobile, and with the exception of his eyes- two round grey orbs with a single red dot on the middle- absolutely devoid of motion. His actual face starts further down, with a darth-vader style "grille" in the shape of a moustache, covering the lower half of his face. His chin is another non-mobile plate. The whole texture of his skin is like hardened ceramic, almost yellowed, with the exception of that grille, which is a deep shade of cobalt steel. When he speaks, red lights spark across it, following the soundwaves produced.
His suit is that same shade of deep cobalt blue-black, with the exception of his accent pieces, which are muted, almost faded orange-yellow in tone. He's wearing a bolo tie emblazoned with some logo for a ranch you've probably never heard about. His hat is flat on top, with a wide brim. The most notable aspect below the neck is the gaping hole in the front of his neck, which has an almost naval style hatch to it. by unlocking the hatch and swivelling the gate out of the way, Molor (Mo to his frenemies) can smoke, and does so often. He tends to alternate between cigarillos with a holder, an ancient-looking wooden pipe, and a mechanical vaporator, subject to local laws and the availability of dried products. He disdains anything overtly hallucinogenic, although he'll try anything once.
He does not wear shoes. He has to put his pants on from the waist down- his boots, cobalt with orange piping, are built into his feet. He can deploy spurs when required (or desired- riding is a little unsightly, and might dirty the suit).
His build is almost portly, a little rounder than you'd expect from a fully mechanized being. This allows his profile to be even less assuming, and allows him to store a large variety of materials in what would otherwise be considered his stomach.
