Now Attwell

Overview

Now Attwell is a 24-year-old belt-born worker serving aboard the ICS Valkyrie, specializing in secondary jam clearance within the ship’s processing systems. A third-generation contract laborer, he embodies the rigid adherence to corporate protocols that define life in the outer belt. His unwavering trust in procedure makes him both a reliable worker and tragically vulnerable to the system’s built-in failures.

Background

Born at TMC Processing Hub Epsilon-9, Now was orphaned at twelve when a pressure breach killed his parents, both lifelong sort-line workers. Raised in the company creche, he absorbed corporate manuals like doctrine, signing his own labor contract at sixteen. Unlike his disillusioned peers, Now genuinely believed in the order the system promised—until that trust proved fatal during a routine clearance operation with sabotaged safety protocols.

Physical Description

Now stands at 1.9 meters, his belt-born frame elongated but wiry from years of compensating for low gravity. His posture is perpetually hunched, a habit from navigating cramped maintenance shafts. Sharp features dominate his face—a blade-like nose, hollow cheeks, and pale blue eyes that lend him a perpetually startled look. Close-cropped copper hair and a missing pinky tip (a “badge of honor” from a conveyor accident) complete his appearance. Scars from failed suit seals stripe his forearms, a common mark of his dangerous trade.

Personality

Now lives by the rulebook, reciting safety protocols with near-religious devotion. Eager to prove his worth, he volunteers for hazardous tasks, masking pain or fear with a reflexive “fine, just fine.” Beneath his corporate compliance lingers a quiet superstition—a sliver of asteroid iron hidden in his boot for luck, though he’d never admit to such irrationality. His literal-mindedness blinds him to systemic exploitation, making him tragically obedient to the very rules designed to fail him.

Relationships

• Cade Brennan: Now idolizes Cade as the model foreman, unaware that Cade’s rule-following is pragmatic, not ideological.
• Mira Castell: He avoids her medical bay unless critically injured, then apologizes endlessly for “wasting resources,” frustrating her with his self-effacing deference.
• Djen Li: The sole crewmate Now teased, nicknaming him “Stretch.” Their shared orphan background forged a silent kinship neither openly acknowledges.

Speech Pattern

Now speaks in clipped, technical phrases, defaulting to corporate jargon (“atmospheric anomaly” for a leak, “negative clearance” for a blockage). Nervousness triggers a verbal tic—repeating the last word of a sentence (“The chute’s clear, clear”). He often taps his wrist display after speaking, as if logging his own words for official record.