Rotes:

Description: Wright is a bicycle fanatic with more than a little hipster flair. His bicycle is self-made, his tattoos are self-designed, and include arm sleeves covered in gears fitted with mathematical symbols on the cogs, with snakes entwined about them, and lions (or sphinxes) across his shoulders. His tattoos are easily seen as he tends to wear sleeveless shirts.

Pre-History: Born to a wealthy academic family, "Wright" was taught to despise manual labour, and focus on history, literature and other studies not linked to science and maths, as they were deemed the stuff of unimaginative cogs while he was "meant for greater things". Yet, somehow, he was never considered "good enough" for those things, and despite brilliant ideas, the rigid educational system stomped down on his creativity. Authoritarian rule, and pleasing those rulers, was his life: don't think, just do what they tell you to do. He was withering, resentful, and desperate, but had no idea why: after all, his family and their social structure were just the way things "are", no arguing that. He was to blame, wasn't he? They couldn't be wrong, after all, he just wasn't good enough...

Awakening: It was a mixture of things that led up to his Awakening, cut one stands out. One night baby-sitting, the TV was damaged; Wright instinctively knew what was wrong (power cord torn) and how to fix it (strip the plug, re-wrap the wires, cover, then use), AND IT WORKED! It was quite literally the first, unarguable success he'd had in his life: he could fix things! Slowly on from there, he discovered there was a powerful lie in the world. He WAS smart, the world had a LOGIC to it, and if he used that logic he could FIX THINGS! At first he collected scraps, then went to libraries and read books, school books he'd ignored on math and science, and taught himself... everything. He worked long into the night, often imagining himself a lone survivor in a zombie apocalypse, relearning civilization and gathering supplies. He shut himself up in his room and started to tinker...

One day, when he was sitting looking at a bicycle (he'd never ridden before), he took a gear and spun it. There was something about that spin, the force of his push moving the wheel around and around and around... and finally something snapped.

"Wright" was in a giant clockwork, made of a substance he could only call "mathematical perfection made solid", breathing instead of air the forces of motion. It was every truth to him, all right-ness made visible: God's handiwork and perfect craftsmanship hidden by the arrogant.

The thought pulled Wright back, and he was a distance from the clockwork, now a great tower on the horizon. Surrounding him was a horde of walking corpses, grey skinned and covered in black moss, hungry to devour him and pulling him away from the tower. Wright shoved them away from him, knowing they were the armies of "the lie" the world was telling him, trying to take from him the knowledge that he'd woken up to: that he mattered, that he was powerful, that the universe worked and wanted him to work upon it. He ran from the hordes through bleak rocky terrain, past rubble, the clockwork tower calling him ever towards it though the hordes would appear to bloke his way. This happened as he reached the tower, a horde between him and the one bridge that crossed a great chasm between him and it. Wright discovered a roar rumbling in his chest and out of him, and he lifted his hand to strike them down, only to see a fiery white wrench in his grip. He swung it, and the undead were knocked back and down into the chasm. He took his first step onto the bridge, finding it smoother than glass, and he crossed over to the tower. There was the symbol of a great key, and the walls were made up of many cogs. Each cog had a name, belonged to a different person, and one was for him: he wrote his name upon it and it glowed with a white fire. He entered the tower and saw a larger fire, one that healed him when it burned, purifying him. To this day he remembers that odd paradoxical nature of the place, like how everything was pure motion, but he felt the most profound calm. When he awoke, he was a mage.

Post-Awakening: "Wright" is the name he chose, both as a maker and because for the first time in his life he's decided to be "right" (word play is a thing). Still learning to build up his self-confidence, he is eager to learn everything. Very sympathetic to the Free Council (casting off shackles of slavery and moving forward to better things) and the Silver Ladder (the right to awaken is big for him), he nevertheless chose the Mysterium: knowledge is his motivator.

Now Wright (the only name he feels is his) bikes around London, does repairs and invents things, and lives off a fairly modest royalty stream from some minor inventions he patented and sold.

Justice: Things that "just aren't right" bother him, and he will help people in need. It's related to his own sense that he was alone against "the lie" of the Exarchs, and wants to set that right.

Lust: Despite his freedom, Wright is desperate to be loved, and recognized as lovable. Fairly handsome he easily meets partners, but the hole in his soul is constantly hungry for more and more recognition. He knows this, but is not yet ready to let go of the need.