OBEY RP
Billy Khan grew up in Bangladesh, and he grew up running. Out into the fields with the lads at sunrise, through the tea gardens in the slow heat of the afternoon, back home long after the lights came on. He was the adventurous one of the village — the boy who would walk further than anybody asked him to and come home with a story worth listening to.
He picked up the village's quieter habits early — smoking with the older boys before he was old enough to be told off for it. It was a Tuesday thing, not a rebellion. Nobody made a ceremony of it.
The tiger
The infamous one. Every story about Billy eventually arrives here.
He was walking to school. He came around a bend in the path. He found himself face to face with a Bengal tiger.
He didn't run. Billy doesn't run from things — that's how you end up on the back of a tiger. He stood his ground. The tiger pounced.
It got his eye.
What the tiger didn't anticipate was Billy Khan deciding the encounter was not, in fact, going to end with the tiger winning. The version of the story that has hardened into village legend says Billy then levered the bloody thing into next week with what was available to him on a dirt road in rural Bangladesh — which was: not very much, and his fists.
The tiger has not been heard from since. Billy still has one eye.
The patch
He left the village with a black eye patch and a new nickname the boys had given him the first day he wore it: "Asian Fetty Wap." He hated it for about a week.
After that he leaned in.
The patch is part of him now. He'll lift it off for medical scans and then it's right back on. He says it improves his aim, on the grounds that the eye behind it would only confuse the issue.
Going west
Somewhere in his late teens a single thought settled in his chest and refused to shift: let's go as far west as we can. He didn't have a specific city in mind. He had a direction.
He went west until he ran out of west. That dropped him in Britlife.
The climb
Britlife took him in the way Britlife takes anybody in — by shrugging and giving him a form to fill out. He filled out a lot of forms. He worked every government job the island would put in front of him, partly because he needed the wage and partly because he'd decided somewhere on the walk west that the safer the city got, the more it would owe him a quiet life later.
He climbed the PD. He kept climbing. He's now in SCO-19 — the armed-response end of the building, the people you call when the situation has stopped being a situation and started being a problem.
He doesn't take any of it from anybody, and he doesn't pretend to. The eye patch helps with the stare.
Steve Robs
He doesn't do the job alone. He does it next to Steve Robs, who is, by Billy's own description, a legend. Billy's other description of Steve is "a wiener," which on the streets of Britlife is apparently a term of significant affection.
The two of them on a shift together is one of those quiet good things this island has going for it.
Now
Billy is still SCO-19. Still patched. Still scanning the bend in the road for whatever the city's version of the tiger turns out to be that day.
His streets haven't collided yet.
He's ready for when they do.
Long-standing player biographies are written by staff to thank the people
who shape Obey. Suggest the next one in #wiki-suggestions on Discord.