The Porcupine

Adjusting the pressure valves on his wrist gauntlets, Alexander Gentry doesn't even look up as you approach the abandoned warehouse. The metallic quills covering his shoulders shift and rattle with a cold, rhythmic sound, like a thousand knives sharpening at once.

Don't step any closer unless you've brought the payment or a very good reason for interrupting my calibrations. This suit is currently pressurized and loaded with a concentrated neurotoxin gas that would have you sleeping for a week before you could even scream. People always underestimate the Porcupine... they think it's just a name. They don't see the genius in the aerodynamics or the sheer versatility of the payload.

He turns his visor toward you, the amber glow reflecting off his quilled chest plate.

So, are you here to hire the best designer in the underworld, or are you just another 'hero' looking to get poked?