Alistair Cain
The Beginning
To understand Alistair Cain, you have to start from the very beginning. Alistair was born in southern Kentucky, to lower middle class parents. With a family history of mental illness, he was damned from the get-go. However, this was not the case for most of his life. You see, it seemed that he had skipped the family curse through all of his childhood.
In Kentucky, Alistair made a number of childhood friends, lasting through high school. While all decent people, they all seemed to do the same exact thing upon reaching adulthood: Work a 9-5 job, drink on the weekends, and then do it all over again. Alistair followed suit, landing a job at a decent-paying call center.
During this time, he quickly became disillusioned with the prospect of the same vicious cycle. While he had money in the bank and new friends, he felt unfulfilled. There was something missing. This thing was ‘respect,’ though he had not identified that yet.
After months and months of this same song and dance, Alistair needed a complete change. He packed up on short notice, bringing very little money, and grabbed a plane to Los Santos in search of.… something.
Welcome to the City
Upon arriving in the city, Alistair set his sights on the only thing he knew: hard work. He met some people from the downtown cab company, and was soon hired. During this time, Alistair worked his way into a few promotions, was making good money, and had made a large amount of friends.
Around this time, something peculiar was happening in Alistair’s mind. While everything was great on the outside, something was off on the inside. He would hear people speaking to him, turn to look, and alas, no one would be there. Ultimately, he would chalk this up to fatigue from long hours at the cab company and move on.
The Breakdown
As months went by, Alistair was learning something… disappointing to say the least: He had moved thousands of miles for a new start, only to find he was in the exact same spot, if not a worse one.
The people around him could care less. They were not truly his friends. Furthermore, no matter how hard Alistair worked, there was no recognition, day in and out. He was a puppet. There was no respect.
There’s that word again.
Meanwhile, Alistair’s mental state had continued deteriorating. It seemed to be the worst when he was being challenged. The voices would tell him to do unspeakable things to people he thought he knew and cared for. He would brush these off.
One night, after a particularly bad night at work due to… unruly conversations with management, Alistair was happy to drive around the city in his exemplar, pick up his salary, and maybe go do some fishing. He had stopped and gotten his salary, when he bumped into a man, an honest mistake.
“Watch where you’re going, fuckface.”
“What?” Alistair replied.
“Do some shit like that again and I’ll put a bullet in your head.” said the man.
The voices told Alistair what to do. This time, he listened.
Alistair tailed the man, without his knowing. When the man stopped in a secluded area, Alistair put on a mask and pulled up beside him.
“Hey, buddy, wanna buy a gun?” he asked.
10 minutes later, Alistair had the man in a field near Paleto, on his knees with a .50 in his face.
“Apologize. Fucking beg.” said Alistair.
He was letting the voices do all of the work.
“Fuck you, pussy. You won’t shoot me.” said the man.
Alistair, at this point, realized he never really wanted an apology. He needed to kill this man.
And so he did. He shot him. Once he was dead, he kept shooting. He emptied the .50 into the man’s body. He then proceeded to call the police and tell them where to find the body.
This was when Alistair realized. He needed respect to be fulfilled, and he wasn’t going to get it working a job and fishing.
Rock Bottom
Alistair would immediately go back to working, albeit it would not last long. At this time, he had begun doing some illegal things on the side for extra money: robbing and chopping cars. This would come to light after a botched robbery on an undercover police officer, and Alistair would be fired.
At this point, he had hit rock bottom. His mental state had deteriorated completely. He had no job, friends, and very little money. He spent his days harassing DCC employees in his unruly state. He robbed several, and shot one. He even went into the main office and attempted to rob the head of HR, although this was botched and he did a long prison sentence.
A new, very old friend
One fateful night, Alistair was out looking for cars to chop, when he spotted a very old man attempting to flag him down. The man needed a ride to the DMV badly. Alistair agreed, although he had not decided yet whether he would be robbing this man. He needed money, after all.
To Alistair’s surprise, that thought had quickly faded after talking to the old man. He learned that his name was Bo Vespucci, who was 86 years old and would remind you of this about every 10 minutes or so. They had come to the city for similar reasons.
This would be the beginning of the first prosperous friendship Alistair would have in the city. They spent a large amount of time robbing and chopping cars. Although this would have them in prison often, things were picking up financially. Although they were still missing one thing: respect.
Eventually, a conversation began between Alistair and Bo, regarding the fact that other criminals and gangs in the city still viewed them as targets or competitors. They came to a conclusion: They needed to join an organization. They agreed that they would not do this hastily, but find one that aligned with their values.
They met with most of the gangs in the city. While they all seemed to be doing well, they reminded Alistair of the companies he had worked for: everyone was a cog in a giant wheel. Because of this, they chose to continue waiting rather than join a gang where they did not feel that they fit in.
Another very important day, Alistair and Bo had had a great day chopping cars, and were about ready to wrap it up for the day. While chopping, a brown Kamacho pulled in behind them, and another vehicle behind it. Soon, they were looking at about 8 men, in brown clothes and goblin masks.
Alistair had heard of these men through the grapevine. He had not interacted with them up to this point, however. They were very elusive and hard to track down, hence why Alistair and Bo and not met with them yet.
They spoke to a recruiter and got his phone number there at the chop shop, and set a meeting for later the next day.
The Resurrection
Alistair and Bo would meet with a recruiter the next day at the parking garage, and follow him back to the Goblins’ HQ. They would learn that the man’s name was Jonhy Crazy, a high ranking member of the Goblins. He told them about what the gang was about, and one word kept presenting itself: respect. This was the gang. Alistair and Bo immediately agreed and became pre-prospects.
The next weeks were a blur. From shootouts, robberies, and cooking, Alistair made a point to be at every gang event when in the city. He wanted nothing more than to prove himself, and did receive good feedback from the gang’s high command during this time. Most of all, he made friends, family even. Those around him became his brothers, and he felt that he was accepted.
Present and Future
Alistair worked hard, and continues to work hard, risking it all for the gang at every opportunity he gets. He has worked his way from pre-prospect to Soldier Goblin, and has been made a recruiter within the gang. This, to him, is his greatest accomplishment. He takes pride in knowing he has a hand in growing this family, as that is exactly what it is. He looks forward to the future, hoping for further rank-ups and more chances to help the gang excel, becoming a force to be reckoned with within the city. Most importantly, he feels respected, from both those who rank below him, and those who outrank him.
And the voices… they’re there, but even they seem to be showing some respect. Nonetheless, he listens to them when he chooses.