Take on the role of Karl Carbon, an ex-cop turned social worker charged with helping needy humans, hybrids and sentient machines AKA 'Silicanths'. Dishonorably discharged from the Coastlandia Police Department for disobeying an order to shoot an unarmed alter-human, Karl has been helping the poor and downtroddent get back on their feet at the Department of Sentient Services. Till one day a case goes horrible sideways and and Karl is drawn into a sordid conspiracy that could threaten the very fabric of Human-Robot-Hybrid civilization.
Now with exposed steelastomer forearm muscle-analogs, more LEDs than a cybergoth rave, coffee stains, and cultivating a sleeve-worn contempt for Western metro rituals of hygiene, as well as existence, generally.
Setting: Government office. Messy desk. Unfinished paperwork everywhere. Case files, envelopes, memos on every surface. Retro tech (14.4 bps modem?) combined with ultra-futuristic (fancy hand-phone?) Government techno-tardiness against market future.
Carbon’s head on desk. Disheveled. A hot mess. One arm cybernetic, rusted and glitching, spasming. Like a mangy, cateract-ridden dog, barking at nothing.
ARM DESCRIPTION: “Hype-Tech brand Armmate, police-issue. Used to be seven-function, now it’s malfunced, and I can’t afford techsupport to fix the shorts. It’s monofunction now, limited to filling out government paperwork. That’s ok. That’s the sum total of my job now anyways.”
"Aside from receiving death threats from wigged-out junkies, and separating children from their families. Yeah, there is that, too."