Average height, average looks, and perfect teeth, topped with a mop of brownish-reddish hair. Goudy is usually seen in a trenchcoat, rumpled jacket, loosened tie. He smokes old-fashioned combustion cigarettes and is sometimes seen fidgeting with an antique Zippo lighter. His standard default expression is a cocky grin beneath a trace of post-hangover puffiness around the eyes.

Goudy has been on the Street a year or so, a fixer specializing in tracking down the particularly obscure and arcane. He’s said to be working with a partner. Of course, nobody on the street has actually ever seen or met this partner; it’s just as likely another line of bullshit from Goudy pretending to be cool. Maybe it makes him feel important. Who knows?

Word is that Goudy is some particular corp family’s prodigal son. Some folks have speculated about what was involved in this particular fall from grace; but Goudy isn’t saying, and everything else is just rumor. However, it’s pretty clear from his cramped-studio-and-kibble lifestyle that he’s not getting any proceeds from home.

Goudy is an odd mix of suspicious and rash. The kind of guy who will check all the casino odds and history and end up putting it all on 17 black. While some call it stupid, Goudy prefers to think of it as the triumph of hope over a sense of overwhelming futility.