GRip grew up in Victoria, the largest city in Callisto. Victoria was the capital city, but also the most urban of all the cities on Callisto. Much like on Earth, the street gangs that made it off Earth took to the major cities like Victoria. Factions built up to support one another.  Families made power plays to control districts of the city and surrounding areas.  It wasn’t hard, either. All it took was a little extortion, a few donations to campaigns.  As a result, corruption is rampant and most people don’t have a particularly long life expectancy. The cops are corrupt, the government is corrupt, and nobody trusts anyone. 

GRip (real name: Devon Washington) was one of many kids left to the streets at a young age. But he had a talent: he was fast. He was light on his feet, he was agile, and that got him scouted to play football. And he was damn good at it! They slotted him into the Wide Receiver position for the Victoria Callies. Before long, he was the hometown hero! He was someone that people looked up to as proof that you could make it in this hellhole of a moon. 

GRip got his name because he could hold a ball better than anyone else. He was the star player for the Callies, for better AND worse. His antics on and off the field got him into trouble on several occasions. He had a hot temper, one that would get him fined regularly. But that was part of his appeal. He had a larger than life bad boy persona, and he loved it! That was his brand. He didn’t care about the fines, and neither did his employer. As long as he was allowed to suit up every week, that’s all that mattered to them.

Eventually, GRip decided that his bad boy image needed some legitimacy to go with it. So he reached out to some of his childhood friends, the ones who were still alive, at least. They got him hooked up with one of the drug runners. Someone who could give him a package at his hotel room to slip in his luggage and bring home. He was the perfect mule! Nobody ever suspected him!

Until another drug runner got pinched. Trying to save his own hide, he sang like a canary. Gave up all sorts of names. And when Devon Washington’s name came up? Ooh boy, the cops pounced on that! They had a high profile target, picked him up right as he got back to Victoria, and they nabbed him right as he was stepping off the team shuttle. The gossip was too much for Callie management. They released him from his contract, his old friends sold him out to save their own hide, and the gang he partied with slipped into the shadows, unwilling to go down with him. He was alone, and he was furious. 

After a couple outbursts while on bail awaiting trial, his bond was eventually revoked and he was sent to jail. There, his temper got the better of him and he got himself into a few too many fights for jail staff. He picked up even more charges, lengthening his stay. Eventually the charges piled up high enough that he was looking at several years in prison.

Once he reached prison, he ran across some of his old gang. The one that didn’t care about him when he was in trouble. And, in the heat of the moment, took his anger and rage out on them. They weren’t even high ranking members of the gang, but they were his target. This got him a lot of unwanted attention, particularly from the shot callers that did rule his block.

These guys were about to jump him when news broke about The Condemned Project. And instead of taking him out, they did him the biggest favor they could. They talked to other shot callers and made arrangements for GRip to fight anyone and everyone they could. It was the perfect strategy!

…Until GRip started winning.

Turns out that all that time on the football field made GRip hard to hit in The Arena. His natural athleticism turned him into a dangerous threat, and the fame of outright slaughtering his opponents tickled GRip’s ego in all the right ways. He loved The Arena! This was his true calling, this was where he was going to make his name. And to start, he was going to get revenge on the old gang.

GRip started challenging everyone from his old gang that he could. Not wanting to be branded a coward, they accepted each and every challenge. They threw all of their resources at their own guys, because SOMEone needed to kill GRip. He was too dangerous.

Too dangerous is right. Their efforts were for naught. GRip slaughtered them all. Eventually he broke through all the footsoldiers and started targeting officers. The officers didn’t have anything to work with. No favors, nobody to extort, no more enforcers, and it was a bloodbath. He took them all down, one by one.

Finally, after he reached to top of his gang and killed him like it was nothing, he looked out at the other gangs in the arena who were watching him. “Let this be a lesson to you ****heads!” he shouted. “Don’t **** with me!”

The other gangs were afraid, and rightfully so! Was he going to target their organization next? Thankfully, he mostly ignored them. They hadn’t crossed him the way his old gang had. So he sat on his little throne, a kingdom of one, with a reputation of brutality and violence to back up his name.