JAY FLORES : THE DEALER

"Spreading anarchy, one gun at a time."

• Is always smoking, regardless of the situation.
• Poor people skills. Always pointing out stuff and comes off as arrogant and selfish.
• No respect for ranks.

• Mutant power enhancing drugs.
• Women and smoking.
• Orchestral music
• Fighting.
• Winning.
• His Bugatti Cincinnati XLR, which won the 2448 award for best maneuverability from FastCars.
• Mocking people.

• 'Savior', a bit. It does help him but still.
• People who ask for help.
• Reading
• Watching movies
• Alcohol
• Recreational drugs.
• Doctor who keep telling him he'll get cancer.
• People who boss around.

Attribute Scale

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INTELLIGENCE: █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █:8/10

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STRENGTH: █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ :4/10

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SPEED: █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █:7/10

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DURABILITY: █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ :4/10

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ENERGY PROJECTION: █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ :4/10

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FIGHTING SKILLS: █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █:7/10

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• HyperCortisone D
• Hyde Formula

• 'Savior'
• Bugatti Cincinnati

• Twin Blades
• Weston 9mm pistol
• AK-144 Rifle

If are reading this, I am dead.
I was given this paper to write out a confession, my final words. But I shall not confess anything I have not done. Instead I will write about the person who will bring you down, dearest Big Brother.

More than twenty years ago I lived in an orphanage. A nice place where all non-mutant children lived; whose parents were mutants, and so were killed, or normal, and were dead. Our caretaker Susan Calvin, a sweet old lady, took great care of us. "It's not who you are that is important," she said to us some nights, "it's what you do." That lady was delusional.

So we lived happily, while Ms. Calvin told us about the great world we would see. Again, delusional. But one day, the day I turned six, the door opened. And in walked a scrawny little boy, whose eyes were larger than they should be( it seemed). But looking at them made me jealous. They were very beautiful; one had green and the other had a red pupil. I have never seen anything that beautiful. Nothing.

The starry eyed child never talked much. He was only four but already seemed bored. Or sad. Forgive me, I was too young then to remember. He was smaller than the others his age but was never bullied. The kids, me included, did try, of course, but he did not respond to any insults. He just sat there, looking at us. As if did not understand what we were saying.

Slowly most kids lost in interest in him; he just sat outside the door on the stairs doing something. I was too busy enjoying and being six to really care. We played hop scotch, ringa ringa roses and Sorry. So for the next two months I saw little of him. He slept on the bunk bed above mine, he sat on the chair next to mine for supper, but he never talked.

One day my friend Carlos got sick. Ms. Calvin freaked out and called the doctors. They took him away and Ms. Calvin told us he would be gone for sometime. Now that I think about it, he never did come back. Anyways, I was bored so I asked the little kid- I didn't know his name then and you don't need to know it now- if he wanted to play. Surprisingly he said yes.

Fast forward two years, I think. Living in this hellhole has made my memories fuzzy. He was my best friend. The little scrawny kid was just a little kid now. I even introduced him to my friend, Smithy and Trigger( they were imaginary but not that you care). He told me about the twins A and B. We played many games, except catch catch because he always managed to win.

I was happy. My little bubble, my little friend, my insignificant life. Unfortunately in this fucked up world nobody remains happy, no Sir. One day I doctor came to the orphanage. He carried a big box. I was scared. My little friend seemed to know him. He didn't come out for the whole day. Ms. Calvin seemed to like the man, but then again she was always smiling so I don't know.

Something inside my little kid snapped. He went back to his silent ways. I still don't know what happened(I do, but you don't). One day we were just playing when ran out of the bedroom crying. Ms. Calvin had gone out and there was nothing we could do. We all stood there as he looked as us and kept crying. I looked at his hand, they were red. He was bleeding. No it wasn't just a small cut but a deep gash.

I was just seven; or eight; or nine. I didn't know what to do. I just looked at his eyes, tears making them more beautiful. It is amazing. I don't remember much as to how he looked except that he was weak and his eyes, his eyes stole the limelight. There were just...

After that my memory just provides fact I learned over the years. Something had fallen on my head and I lost consciousness. Then when I woke up he was all over the news. He had killed two children and injured a third, me. I still don't believe it. He wouldn't kill anyone! You stupid robots. How low have you fallen?

Because the orphanage was close, yes because of that, some couple took me in. Many days I asked if my little friend was coming. Never said yes. Brainwashed bastards. I grew up in their household. Never loved, always 'loved'. I lived by life 'happily'. I learned some law, then some other stuff. Read my file.

But one day it all changed. I met him again! I was so happy! I was so so happy! Alas, in this world nothing can be happy. He had changed. For the worst. No longer he was the starry eyed kid I knew. He was twenty five now. He was not what I expected. I had expected him dead; that's what I was told. And robots never lie about the situation of a person( robots are good? Bah humbug).

He didn't remember anyone. Not Susan Calvin. Not Raymond. Not A or B or Smithy or Trigger. Not me. What was worst than not being remembered by him? He wore contact lenses now! And his eyes weren't oversized!

He was now a normal twenty something person. He was normal in every way now, nothing unique. He walked normally. He insulted, mocked, derided everyone. He had a car. He smoked a lot. Loved him. That's what he was now. Normal.

It still cannot believe it. Why would someone change himself that much? You see what I'm doing here, it's foreshadowing. Dumb robots like you cannot understand. He had changed inside physically too. He was.. part robot. Ugh! I knew then what that happened that night. He had killed those children. He is...a... monster... mutant...

But he is on our side. He is... he went to his friend. They will get his powers back and he is destroy. You are no good for us, Big Brother. Because you lack the same thing all tyrants do, Humanity. Fuck you, Big Brother.

• Lived in an orphanage till six.
• One day looses control over his powers, kills two other children.
• Sent to a doctor who puts the 'Savior' in him.
• Doctor sends him to a hacker.
• Hacker updates his record to deceased.
• Lives with the hacker till he is eighteen, then starts working for him.
• 2 months ago:
• Hacker, now retired, decides Jay is old enough to control his powers.
• The removal process goes horribly wrong.
• When Jay wakes up, the lights are out, room is half destroyed, hacker and an another guy dead and the 'Savior' now sentient(can talk to him on its own volition).

• Added by the Doctor:
• Main part of the 'Savior' releases a chemical as needed to keep the power controlling part of the brain in check.
• One lung + other smaller organs removed. Plugin One added to act as these parts.
• Eye removed. Plugin Two are artificial eyes.
• Plugins Three through Fourteen added to improve precision and ability of Main part.
• Plugins Fifteen through Twenty One added to improve decision making skills of the 'Savior' (To decide when it is and when it isn't required to release chemical)
  
• Added by the Hacker:
• Plugins Twenty Two through Fifty to help Jay (they plugins added a voice to the machine and allowed it to help jay by connecting to the network, finding information, etc)