"I don't mind tinkering with small electronics and the like but I find AIs to be much more interesting."'
|Ryan Edward Letowski|
|Karma||Renegade of the Wastes|
|Profession||Sphinx Surveillance Employee|
|Face Claim||Jared Leto|
Ryan was born in the scourge of the southwest, New Reno, to a mother who had more kids than she could count on his fingers from any number of men. Working as a prostitute in a world with such shoddy birth control methods oftentimes meant the johns his mother entertained left her with more than just a pile of caps on the nightstand, after all. Ryan earned his name from the surname of the man his mother was pretty sure was his father, and it's the only thing he ever got from the man. Not that it mattered much; the number of bastard children roaming the streets of Reno was so plentiful they could have easily started their own west coast Little Lamplight.
It was hard to make a clean living in New Reno. The streets were riddled with hookers, pimps, bookies, gang bangers, wanna-be mobsters, addicts, and any other number of unsavory characters, and without any means to get out of dodge, a teen-aged Ryan fell into that circle. He had taken to scavenging the abandoned buildings to occupy himself, finding old Pre-War radios, toaster, terminals, any and all sorts of electronics that he would take apart and attempt to put back together. The trash bins behind the Chop Shop was always ripe with scrap electronics and old fusion batteries, and one day when Ryan was dumpster diving for parts he was confronted by old man T-Ray, the owner of the Chop Shop. The Bishop family employed the mechanics of the Chop Shop and didn't exactly take kindly to thieves snooping through their things. Ryan argued that garbage was garbage and maybe the Bishops shouldn't get so bent out of shape about it, which T-Ray didn't take kindly to; the teenager was dragged inside for his smart mouth, and Ryan was sure he wasn't going to live to see seventeen.
While waiting in the Shop for his what he assumed was going to be a death sentence, T-Ray started asking the sixteen-year-old questions, who he was, where he came from, why was he digging through the trash. Nervous, Ryan offered up nothing but the truth, and T-Ray-- who had only intended to scare the kid a bit and keep him from snooping around again-- was impressed enough by his apparent technical skill that he passed the word along to the Bishops that he may have found them a gangly, twitchy wunderkind. A poor kid from the streets of Reno didn't exactly have the option to say "no" to one of the biggest mob families in the city, and before he knew it Ryan was working as a techie for the Bishop family.
Working at the Shark Club casino brought some unexpected perks. A roof over his head, a steady supply of food and water, and best of all, stability. Ryan went from a constant life of uncertainty to one of routines and rules, and for the next twelve years he fell into a comfortable, if not entirely scrupulous, lifestyle. It wasn't until the death of Mr. Bishop that things changed; his son took over running the family, and with the change in leadership came a change in policy. Mr. Bishop had used idle threats and manipulation to keep the underlings in line, but Bishop Jr. took a different approach. He was more of a "hands on" leader, in the most literal sense. Fuck something up, and he'd get his hands on a tire iron to crack across your kneecaps. And that was just for the first offense.
More and more employees were taking extended "leaves of absence" or had "decided to pursue other opportunities" that the fear or getting his legs crippled by his new cutthroat boss was putting Ryan in constant fear for his safety. He understood where the man was coming from: strike fear into the peons to earn quick and ironclad respect, establish yourself as someone not to be trifled with... Yeah, he got it, but that didn't mean Ryan liked it. Still, running off in the middle of the night was a surefire way to get tracked down and shot, and so Ryan bid his time, keeping his nose clean and his head under the radar until the rising tensions between the Bishops and rival crime family the Wrights came to a head. There was a shoot out on the casino floor, gunfire and smoke filling the air, mass confusion and chaos rolling in from all sides--
Really, the perfect time to make an escape.
Ryan disappeared sometime between the first bullet being fired and the last, eventually skipping town with a group from the Happy Trails Caravan Company who were on their way to negotiate a possible deal with the Crimson Caravan in New Vegas. Ryan tagged along as far as Freeside, eventually landing a job at the Atomic Wrangler fixing slot machines and... less than kosher robots. It wasn't as luxurious a gig as the one at the Shark Club, something Ryan admittedly missed, and upon hearing of a new casino opening on the Strip, he decided to throw his hat into the ring and see about landing a job on the surveillance team...
Continuing Adventures Edit
Ryan is a bit of a chameleon. This isn't to say he's some mysterious, shady sort of fellow who tends to blend into his surroundings in some attempt to appear as something he isn't. What it means is he's prone to presenting himself as something else to please the people he's interacting with. A lifetime of being pushed aside or treated poorly has left him somewhat attention-- and affection-- starved. He's always himself at the core, perhaps, but depending on who he's dealing with, he may go so far as to make himself feel uncomfortable in order to gain their approval. The bottom line is, he's the sort of man who wants to please everyone around him, even if such a lofty goal is near impossible. It's a habit that's gotten him in some sticky situations in the past, and it seems thirty-two years wasn't long enough for Ryan to learn his lesson.
When he's not worried about appearances or social standing, or when someone tells him to knock it off, the real Ryan is a finicky, particular man, liking things to be just so and getting irritated or upset when they aren't. He's prone to getting stressed out, and blowing little things out of proportion is hardly out of the norm. But this persnickety nature lends itself well to someone who's detail-oriented, and that description fits Ryan well. It's a trait that helps fuel his passion for tinkering with computers and robotics, a hobby where a keen eye and the neurotic tendency to double-check everything is a plus.
If Ryan's truly comfortable around someone a sarcastic, self-deprecating sense of humor starts to show through the cracks. He can be rather morbid, not shying away from topics others may find offensive or uncomfortable, though he's aware such topics may not be fit for everyday conversation and thus wields them carefully. He isn't prone to offering himself up as a confidant, finding the burden of keeping someone else's secrets just that; a burden. Ryan is equally as unlikely to disclose any upsets from his past or willingly talk about his emotions, feeling like he's being a nuisance to the other party involved.
- Deborah Letowski (mother)
- Edward Finch (father)