Nile, the Broken Man

If you have the time, please read Nile's bio and tell me what you think.


Growing up is rarely easy, especially when you have no parental supervision. Such was the way Nile lived his early life. An orphan picking pockets, stealing his meals, and begging for pixels, Nile grew up knowing the galaxy was a rough place. He knew life was hard since the day he was born, the day his mother died birthing him. So he wasn't shocked the day his father was murdered on his way home from work. Devastated, but not surprised. Nile's been living on the streets ever since. One day, however, everything changed. Eleven year old Nile picked the wrong, or right, pocket.
Sinclaire Bodtt was a brilliant man, robotics being his trade. He had the ability to deconstruct a mech, find out how it ticks, and use the same parts to build an entirely new one! But one day, he found the small hand of a street urchin in his pocket. Sinclaire could have ran to the authorities, sure. But there was something about this boy. The look in his eyes, the horror plastered on his face. This was a child. Not some run-of-the-mill cutthroat. This boy had too much potential to be living on the streets, this Sinclaire knew. And so it was that Sinclaire gained a new apprentice.
Before long, the two were two peas in a pod. Nile didn't consider Sinclaire his father, and Sinclaire knew he could never replace Nile's father. Instead, the two viewed each other as brothers... brothers with a huge age gap. For years Nile has been living under Sinclaire's roof, helping the artisan of machines with his work. Living with Sinclaire for ten years, Nile learned quite a bit about machinery himself, among other things. However, just like it has before, Nile's life was not only going to change... but it was going to come to an end.
Sinclaire's workshop was located in the space station of Progress. A station that rarely encountered trouble. Rarely. One day, something happened that the inhabitants of Progress thought would never happen. Slavers. Lowly cutthroats looking to make a small profit by selling people to anyone who would buy them. And they were on course for Progress. The Progress security force wasn't prepared. Living in an almost perfect utopia of peace, you tend to relax. The slavers came and left, taking anyone they could with them, lest any unwanted guests decide to jump in. Anyone who hid, however... merely dug their own grave.
Sinclaire and Nile hid in a panic room within Sinclaire's workshop. Upon exiting, believing the coast to be clear, they were devastated to find a majority of Progress's population missing. Before they could look around to find out exactly who was still there, they felt it. The rumbling of their beloved station being bombarded. The slavers were thorough in covering their tracks, it seemed. Sinclaire and Nile knew they had to get out of there, so they made their way to the loading bay, to Sinclaire's ship. They were almost there, just one more long hall to go and they'd be home free. But then Nile's vision went black... as he was caught in an explosion. Nile was left behind in the wreckage of Progress, but his broken body was not.
He was confused when he awoke. He looked around, his foggy mind just barely recognizing Sinclaire's ship, the Automaton. He was hurt and numb at the same time. He was in pajama pants, seemingly put on him by Sinclaire. Walking to the bathroom, mind still foggy, he went to splash some water in his face. However, upon doing so, he spotted something... off... about his hands. He stared at them in disbelief. These were not his hands. These were the hands of the many robots he and Sinclaire had built together. Putting his hands down slowly, he looked at the stranger in the mirror. What he saw made him sick to his stomach, though he did not puke... he was unable to. In the mirror, he saw what he was now. Metallic jaw, robotic arms, mechanical left leg. The memories came flooding back. He died in that explosion. But how is he here now? He needed to find Sinclaire.
And find him he did. There he was, in the captain's chair that he loved so dearly. Dead. Fresh blood still staining his clothing, still dripping from his hanging fingers. Nile wanted to cry, but he couldn't. Not because he was trying not to, but because he... he couldn't. Eyes darting around, mind going at a thousand miles per hour, the subtle blinking light of the captain's log caught his attention. Playing it, he was met with Sinclaire's voice.

"H-Hey, kiddo. Gah, dammit. At least, I hope it's you. *cough* I'm not doing so well, as I'm sure you already know. I'm... I'm going to die here. I'm certain of it. Assuming it's you, Nile, know that you're the only one I trust with carrying out my legacy. The Automaton belongs to you now, but I'm sure you're worried about *cough* ... dammit... something else. You... you died back on Progress, but I took you with me. I couldn't leave you to burn in that cursed place. *cough* I took a few nicks one the way to my ship, but I had to get you out of there. Agh! ... I- I rebuilt you. I won't blame you for being cross, but you're too young to die. Your limbs and jaw are replaced, and that I'm sure you know. But the damage wasn't just skin deep, no. I replaced a few of your organs, your heart among them. Your lungs are assisted, as well. That doesn't mean you should go breathing in any noxious fumes... or take up smoking. You're not invincible, so watch yourself. Oh, and- agh! Dammit... I just have to-"

And that was that. The recording just... ended. Much to Nile's dismay. He wanted closure, and this wasn't it. Beaming down to the planet below, he gave Sinclaire a quick funeral before taking to the stars. This was the last straw. His mother was taken from him. His father was taken from him. Now Sinclaire was taken from him. Nile was hellbent on obliterating every thief, bandit, slaver, pirate he encountered. He thirsts for retribution. He will not stop until every criminal fears the justice of the Broken Man. Broken Man... yeah... he liked the sound of that.


Edit: Made it slightly easier to distinguish paragraphs.

 

I intend to make Nile the smart type. The type that retreats when he's outmatched. Doesn't mean he won't pick fights with criminals, though.

 

No need to apologize! If I wasn't looking for criticism, I wouldn't have created this thread! I see what you mean. I think that somewhere along the line of typing the bio, I forgot to, as you said, tell you about Nile and instead went into his origin story where I focused too much on Sinclaire (I just intended on making Sinclaire's death the thing to send Nile over the edge, but either I made Sinclaire seem too important or not important enough). It seems the only thing I established about Niles was that he's a vigilante cyborg with a troubled past (three cliches mashed together, now that I think about it), and I intended to make a more complex character out of him instead of just "W0AH! Cyber arms! W0@@@HHHH!!! Robo-Batman!". So yeah, made a mistake there and I'll certainly have to develop him more down the road. I appreciate the criticism, truly.

 

The majority of the votes are in favor of me trashing Nile. Unfortunately, while there are 4 votes for "no", only 2 people provided criticism. Not what I was hoping for, to be honest. Regardless, I'll have to scrap Nile for now in order to further develop him. Thank you to anyone and everyone who voted and/or provided constructive criticism.