Subject: Finnegan, Brendon "Blue". Male, Fomori Troll, Age 29 (Deceased 2061).
Background: Born into the tulmultous times of the early Awakening, Brendon Finnegan had a string of unusual occurances set the stage for a life less ordinary. As a scion of the Finnegan Family during the early stages of the Boston Mafia Wars of the 2040s, Brendon's life was further complicated by his own goblinization into the rare Irish metatype of Fomori Troll. His mother, Boss Carrie Finnigan, was horrified to see her child, which she was dissappointed enough was born a human (She was an Elf), turn into a Troll. Her rejection of him lead to all manner of rebellion. Often dying his fur various colors (Blue was his favorite, and lead to his nickname/street alias), drinking until even his considerable constitution was overcome with drunkeness, and putting himself on the public scene just to present the Italian families with a target, Carrie often remarked to him, "One of these days, you're going to get yourself killed. And I won't even care, anymore."
His mother's cavalier attitude, and appearant incapablity of loving him, lead him to try earning her respect. Still, his second-hand-suicide mentality remained, so he tried his hand at assasinations for the family, becomming a master marksman. Still, he kept his fur as bright as possible, doing his best to present a huge target, as though daring others to find him.
His luck held, however, until, by the age of 27, he had still not earned his mother's respect. Disgusted, he threw together his savings and made for Seattle to try his luck in the shadows, where the Finnegan Family's presence was smaller, and he could build a fate of his own choosing.
He almost immediately fell in with a notable runner group of the Seattle scene, and he took part in several jobs that took him all over the UCAS and CAS. He was building a sizable ammound of cred, both street and nuyen, but was unable to escape his taste for alchohol and partying. In 2061, he found that he had contracted VITAS-3 from someone he had slept with. The street doc informed him that his drinking had aggrivated it beyond the point of treatment, and it was only a matter of time. Wanting to meet his fate head-on, on his own terms, he eagerly awaited one last job to die on, to let his runner chummers have his share of the loot and go out guns blazing.
That last job never came, though, and he succumed to his illness after a particularly heavy night of drinking. His body was found in it's apartment by his friends, one week after his death. The synthahol produced a severe allergic reaction due to the VITAS, and he died in his sleep. His team uncovered his background, and brought him back to Boston. They, as well as half the Finnegan family, attended the funeral. His mother reputedly sobbed inconsolably.
His body is interred in the Boston Ressurection Cemetery in the Finnegan Family Plot.