Marley Manson

Marley Manson was... a character. Most of his life, he spent going against the grain. He didn’t like school, he hated fitting in, and just wanted to stand out. When he was fifteen he got his first tattoo in the slums of Chicago. After he barely made it out of highschool, that was it for him. Marley began to travel the continent. He spent this time experimenting with all sorts of dope, unlocking every part of his brain... or so he thought.

It was in some part of Cascadia where it happened. Marley was probably in some sort of run down apartment, chatting up the local scumbags. High off his mind, The hippie was on his way home when he was slammed into a van by a masked assailant, and knocked out. He woke up, tied down to a steel chair.

His immediate thoughts reaction was that he was picked up for organs or augs. But... something more sinister was happening. Unbeknownst to him, a remnant of the CIA had picked him up. They had restarted a long forgotten program called MK Ultra, but had modified it. Over the course of many months, Marley had been molded into a perfect little killing machine. His mind was already mush from the drugs... all he needed was a little push from the feds. His meaty limbs had been upgraded to augments, and his brain was effectively split in two. When the trigger word was said, Marley went black. Something else came out of him.

No one really knows what happened to him for the next couple of years. Marley's timeline is spotty at best. Most of his life was a collection of waking up in strange places.

By the ripe age of 28, Marley had become affiliated with the Ura Giri. He just really goes with the flow. The CIA, or what’s left of them, could still well be lurking in the shadows, his handler waiting to call on him once again. But for now? He was on his way to Ukiyo city, to escape Sendai the shithole.

“If you like Pina Colada’s, And gettin’ caught in the rain...”