Background

1974 saw the creation of the man that would become Darrow. Born into the sub-par Glasgow Royal Infirmary and taken back to the shite streets of Paisley. Darrow saw his youth the same way a lot of them did, days at school, nights planted in front of the Telly or hitting the girls you liked with sticks. Weekends dragged into the city for the ritual of weekend football if Celtic was playing. Following the rabble of the casuals on their ritual of weekly violence and rampant alcoholism. If anything, it was almost the perfect childhood despite what framed it in the shitter parts of the Real heart of Scotland. Despite his mother and father slaving away, money was never able to be enough. And this effect would lead to life in general along with the adoption of bad habits. It wouldn't be long into the start of his teens before he was stealing cigarettes and slinging them for 50 pence a pop around the back of the Gymnasium as rebellion took over the teenage years. As the years began to stack on, the selling increased and eventually shifted up in the world. This would lead to his stint into discovering Hash, and soon after a while. Heroin. With a flow of personal income, life through education became much, much simpler. Especially moving into his later years. Darrow wasn't the most successful student but was at least able to make it all the way through his education without dropping results too low. His best results being in Music, French & Chemistry. It was rather easy to sell back in the day when the streets you thrived in were equally as shit and indulged in each of these pleasures with delight. It wasn't long before he was clasping hands with more hideous creatures and men with sinister goals that supplied what he slung on. Which, at the end of the day, was just business. As he grew into an adult it was becoming vital to survival. With a crippling economy, it became the way for him to live, as the dope he shifted was just as vital for the survival of those who will die from it. Almost as if by deliberate play, Darrow would find himself being pulled over on the 22nd of April 1995 , fortunately enough with not enough to incur a serious enough charge. But enough to halt his life for the best part of 18 Months as he served a sentence, issued at the start of June that year. Time in prison was nothing particularly of note, mainly keeping to himself and out of as much trouble as possible. Upon his release, it was a bit harder to get back into the business. Times and motions had changed, new people were the ones who sold and weren't the kind to play party with those who wanted to share. And now with a charge hanging around his neck, work prospects grew even smaller. That was until an opportunity came like the grace of an angel. An old mate from school was working on cruise ships, and when they were going to port in Edinburgh, he called up an old friend to look for something to smoke. This, hastily blossomed into the two men working on the ship together after a good word was put in. Serving drinks and chatting away to those as he was sent to tend bars, relaying tales of his youth in Scotland to those who'd listen. The Cruise Ships, despite the family friendly allure never always held such standards. Dirty deals and underhanded tactics were employed everywhere, half the staff carrying criminal records since it was the only place that would take them if they seemed earnest enough in working for true. But that wouldn't stop the flow, eventually, drugs would make their way into his hands, and happily out of them again for the more eager and thick-pocketed of passengers. It's also here where the standardized education finally saw some fruitful results, it was along these ships where his practice of French truly found a way to be conversational and not just a man clinging to the memories of education, since its commonness was inescapable. It was the tail-end of winter where life next came tumbling into a new form. The news over the last year had spoken about the mass growth of daisies that had sprouted around the world, and with spring about to brace the Horizon. The ship makes port in the sunshine state. Just in time for what the people had referred to as 'The Collapse.' For the first couple years things went rather swimmingly, despite the initial mayhem and chaos. Things surprisingly settled quickly and the Sunshine State managed to find itself in prosperity to a varying degree. Communities flourished to begin with, steadfast and sure but as resources began to dwindle over time, the necessity for trade heightened, and as communities formed tighter and more in contact. Darrow became associated with the Caravans. Another couple years of doing so through the long journeys across the states, he assisted in a caravan travelling to and from Coalition lands, which, as time went on grew more perilous as the violent Marauders encroached over more land and drew pressure down. This began to cause massive issues in the way of distribution and trade. And as more settlements crashed down and refugees showed up not doing their fair share. Tensions could grow higher and higher, making these trading trips even more vital. It was on one of these return trips where the Caravan was sure it was still in coalition lands did it meet with the vicious attack, in which. Darrow was fortunate to slip away with his life intact, but sadly that was all that survived the slaughter over what was thought as safe roads near the coast to McMorgan. With no way to get back to the people he knew without risking all. He turned to Elsewise, travelling until he found his way from small communities to ravaged landscapes draped in flowers. After a while, he would find himself at the KQZ. Fortunate enough to be allowed within its sanctuary, the man did whatever grunt work was tossed his way, doing his best to earn the simplest living for the safety it offered. Three Years have passed since his arrival in the KQZ…