Standing at just under six feet with disheveled hair and bags under his eyes, Nathan blends in seamlessly with the vagrants and junkies who populate the lower income portions of Kingstown. A far cry from his younger years when he wore suits to work, he now is lucky to even get a matching pair of socks. Underneath whatever clothes he ever finds lies an amount of lean muscle he’s gained through a combination of street fighting and the mechanical parasite that has attached itself to his back. Nathan has a sometimes misguided sense of justice and many times while trying to take matters into his own hands his anger tends to make him a hypocrite. He has taken up placing black grease paint on the eyes of the criminals he leaves in order to send a message to both them and the community at large that he is there and they are seemingly blind to his presence.
Nathan had gotten a job in accounting early in his twenties at what he assumed was just another corporation dealing in a wide variety of businesses, and spent most of his days staring at a screen with a blank glare. During those years he was terrified of doing anything aside from the daily grind. He began dating a coworker form a different department. For a time he life stagnated and Nathan became depressed.
As time went on Nathan turned to a bottle in order to make the time pass. Those months were a blur to Nathan. His performance at work began to falter, he began to stop socializing, and his partner began to become worried. On one of his drunken nights after an argument with his partner he broke into the corporation and blacked out, or so he tells anyone who asks about it, and woke up with a mechanized spine and a voice in his head.He wasn’t proud of what he did afterwards and with no warning he left the city without saying a word that next morning.
With what little he had left in his wallet he drifted from city to city and finally came to Kingstown hoping here he could have a fresh start and try and forget about who and what he was.