A master of darkness...a team of justice seekers...a city in fear...Welcome to Olympia...
About this creation
Tough; hot-headed; a scrappy fighter; loyal. All these qualities accurately describe Willie Sparks. An excellent shot with an eye for guns (and things that go “boom”, it might be added), Willie has traveled the globe, doing just about every job there is. Orphaned at sixteen years old when his poverty-stricken parents died in a train crash, Willie joined the army when America declared war on Eurasia. He soon came to love the heat of battle, and has been addicted to thrills and excitement ever since. However, deep inside, Willie cannot forget his parents' deaths, and has been desperately searching for something to fill that void ever since.
The steamer trunk Willie brings with him to any far-flung job. Nothing but a battered and bruised old trunk, you say?
...think again. Custom-designed, the trunk contains Willie's gear: a disassembled double-barreled-sawed-off shotgun, Thompson submachinegun, M1911 .45 pistol, Bowie knife, and a bit of TNT.
Willie's custom motorcycle, souped up and ready to role.
A piece of promo artwork my brother Jacob created for kicks. Nifty, huh?
Journal Entry 23
Date: October 8th, 1917
Location: Zeppelin airliner Gloria
Well, I'm finally on my way. The airship is taking off from New Detroit Airfield, headed straight for Olympia. How long has it been since I've been to the grand old city? Ahh, I remember now: it was during the War! Those were some crazy times! Drilling with the 148th Battalion, manning the coastal guns, watching as the city was reduced to rubble by Eurasian buzz-bombs, and then celebrating as peace was announced. It wasn't long after that I sailed back to the States.
I tried to settle down and live like everybody else, but I just couldn't forget the excitement and thrill of the War. So, I turned to doing odd-jobs, from running a gun store in Florida, to working as a vigilante in Burma. It was an exciting life, fraught with dangers, bad-guys, and adventure. I still would've been hopping from place to place if it wasn't for the picture I got a week ago while I was taking a vacation in Chicago:
Pyne!? I couldn't believe it! Parker Pyne had been my closest friend during the war. We were inseparable the entire conflict, despite being complete opposites: I was the loud-mouthed American infantryman, while he was the clever and cheerful British officer assigned to lead my battalion. One thing stands out to me when I think of Pyne: he had a gift, a sorta sixth-sense that allowed him to think differently from most people; I never understood it, but I always respected it. Since the war ended, I hadn't heard from him...until now.
I'm not sure what I'm getting myself into, but I'm ready to follow Pyne anywhere, even into the jaws of Death itself. Who knows? This new adventure may come to that...