A mad scientist, a cyborg, a visionary, a man of god
In the Cosmic Era, the Cosmetologist is a highly skilled geneticist, and they are consulted on everything from hair remedies to exotic full body alterations.
A tall lanky man with a distracted air, well versed in arcanotechnology, parapsychology, and a collector of molds, spores, and fungus.
30 job types/classes for PCs in the Cosmic Era
A stern matron, 1950's pinup and failed protector against nuclear winter.
Her first contact will be on a laptop or mobile unit of some kind. The text "Can you help me?" will be written all over the screen.
Ms. Carlyle has made her presence known.
The massive computers of the future don't always communicate with the puny humans through soft chimes and a soothing voice over the PA/intercom. Sometimes they have a special android body that serves as their own super surrogate
Formerly Andrew 'Dandy' C. C. Yates, the Scranton Psychopath, now Andrew 12-C66
An attractive older woman with more degrees than a thermometer
Because someone must come up with new ways to kill.
A vampire Blood Doll, her master, and the workshop they share
We need to gather the cam-droppers and bulldog gears off of number six, yes the wrecked number six. Then, with those pieces and the short drive off of number three we can put number four back into action.
Abelard von Richter
The only son of Dr. Nicholas Farthing, Ironwing has dedicated himself to the destruction of his father’s Fabulous Engine.
The Mughal of the Gremils, the Shah of Lag, the most devoted of Mathom.
Mercenary. Hacker. Charm school graduate. Teddy bear collector. Raver. Troll.
What weight has legacy, what strength has a name, in an era when the stars themselves bend to the will of man, when the gods have been forgotten?
Devoted to the Goddess of War, Prince Yakaw is second to none in the crafting and use of swords mundane and magical.
“Where do they get those marvelous toys” you ask. The other hero smiles, “I guess you have not been hooked up.” He hands you a card.
Maker of Devices for the Discriminating Operative
Hanging on the arm of a wealthy upper crust man, she was the perfect arm charm. But you swear, you have seen her before.
A hypercaffinated ball of technical investigation energy.
The Nomin gypsies have a fiddling competition every year, known as the Danse de Velose. Beaters hit out the rhythm on taut drums and the competitors start to play, slowly at first. Youngsters can compete, but are soon pulled away by worried mothers, before the competition becomes too dangerous. After two hours the haunting tune has become dazzlingly fast. You can resign at any time, but the moment you make a mistake you receive an arrow through the neck. Strings may snap, but the players must play on. The whole affair never lasts much longer than three hours, and the last fiddler playing is crowned king of the gypsies.