Bee, Male, 32
Aliases: Not Listed
Employer: Not Listed
Function: Not Listed
Born in Dothan,Alabama to an iron worker and a factory worker, Alistair was the oldest of three. A younger sister Annabell and a younger brother Aiden. Alistair and his family moved around a lot, finally settling into Huntsville, Alabama when he was about Fourteen. Alistair's father would die around his 16th birthday, leading him to drop out of school to help his mother with his siblings. This would lead Alistair into a life of a crime.
An older Alistair, now about nine-teen would travel across the south east and mid west to hustle, steal cars, deal drugs, sell knock offs, whatever it took to provide for his family. Around the time he was Twenty-One he would have made a lot of money through out the years, eventually enough to pay for his sister's college. He would continue down that path stashing back most of the money he made in a secret location no one knew about, for a rainy day.
Ten years before becoming a bee it all finally caught up with him. He was arrested in Chicago for grand theft auto, grand larceny, and weapon charges which would lead to him being convicted and sent to federal prison in Chicago for twenty years. He was a model prisoner, did his time quietly until one day his life changed.
He was asleep in his cell a cold Chicago night, when he woke up in pain, screaming and grabbing his head. That is when he must have been stung. A raw burst of anima came from his body and destroyed his cell wall, and that is when he took his chance to escape. He jumped from the hole in the wall and made his way over the outside fence, where a rookie guard was waiting for him. Alistair took off running, but the guard fired and hit him in the back of the head killing him, or so he thought. He would awake a hour later in the morgue and would scare the examiners as he made another run for it, escaping this time. He would find clothes and vanish from the grid.
He would spend a few weeks held up in an old safe house he kept in the slums of Chicago when finally a knock on his door happened, expecting it to be the police Alistair readied himself to run when the door was busted open by a massive goon with a slick guy with shades in the goon's shadow. The slick guy would toss a dufflebag in front of Alistair. "You are going to need this I think." the shady guy said. Alistair approached the bag cautiously, his eyes lit up when he saw it was his money that he stashed back all those years ago, as well as some more winter clothes and a plane ticket to New York. "You have an 'oclock with some very important people two days from now. I'd be there if I was you, don't make me have to come looking for you" and with that and a smug smile the shady man walked out.
Alistair would arrive in New York and find his way to the Labyrinth, in which he was shortly knocked out and "examined" by their doctor. Shortly after he was instructed to meet up with Kristen Geary for his briefing and in take. When he entered her office she would start right away with the spill and assignments. "Wait a sec" Alistair would finally say. "I ain't agreed to anything yet." Geary would laugh and retort, "Adorable, you think you have a choice. Listen here convict, you don't have a choice. We own you, you are corporate now. Your sister just had a kid you know, and your brother? He is starting college soon." she would say with a wicked grin. It was then Alistair knew he had no choice but to sign up and do as he was told, for their safety. Still it wasn't all bad, he was able to pick up his hustling where he left off, and the Illuminati even paid him. All he had to do was put up with the nightmares he would see.
So Alistair has been a field agent, using his skills he picked up over the years to his advantage.
Most of the time when you see him, he looks disheveled, his hair is shaggy, and he looks like he has lived a hard life, and looks to have been a heavy drinker in the past. He tends to wear shades most of the time with a leather jacket, jeans, and a beanie. Unless he needs to look nice then it is a button up shirt, slacks, and loafers. He always wears a confident smirk, and isn't actually that bad to look at.
He heals super quickly, he could be shot and the hole would start to heal instantaneously.
He carries around a money clip when in town stacked to the brim with hundreds at any given time. He seems to well off despite his appearance.
Inside his coat pocket, and on the fridges at his various homes you could see some drawings, looking as if some children drew them
He can play the guitar rather well, and is an okay singer.
Anything to do with a heist or criminal activity.
Talk to him about music
He is also single and considers himself somewhat of a ladies man
Always up for random RP if you see him.