Fandom Cyberpunk: Streets of Fire applications

[Midrick]

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In Character

Thornhill - Casanova

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Cyberpunk

Streets of Fire

App Details

Roster

Major NPC's

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• App Details
  01

  App Details

  Not Backing Down. Never Backing Down.

  GM Notes

  001

  Greetings all Cyberpunks! Here is where the story of your character begins, one thing to keep in mind though is that the cyberpunk universe is violent, brutal, beautiful, and tragic. The dark future is for sure not all sunshine and rainbows, but that makes the bright spots stand out even more in the long run, keep that in mind when writing the backstory of your character. Another thing to keep in mind is that while this is the beginning of your characters rise to legends of Night City this is exactly that, the beginning, while I have no doubt they'll be the next Morgan Blackhand with the gear to match, you'll only have access to the basics for now.
  
  along with writing the development of your character's journey until the present, there are eight attribute's that you will split 40 points into, with no attribute being lower than three and greater than eight. This will give me a good idea of what your character is capable of doing with their natural ability outside of any external factors like cyberware. An example of a stat spread would be:
  
  Intelligence: 3
  Reflexes: 7
  Cool: 7
  Technical Ability: 3
  Charisma: 3
  Agility: 4
  Empathy: 7
  Body: 6
  
  Each character is also afforded ONE unique piece of equipment to start with. Whether it be a weapon, vehicle, or piece of cyberware (No, you may not start with an apogee sandevistan) is up to you but try and make your character's reason for having it stay within the realm of possibility and not some piece of god tier equipment that they just happen to have.
  
  Borrowing another concept from the games cyberware capacity, your stats will determine how well your character handles different types of cyberware as well as the overall capacity your character. Characters that have a high reflex will be able to adapt to using a sandevistan much better than a character who doesn't and will suffer a lesser penalty to their capacity because of it. Your empathy represents how well you interact with other people and the world among other things, installing cyberware and traumatic experiences that you will be subjucted to in Night City will drain your empathy, and if it gets too low your character will start to suffer from cyberpyschosis.
  
  One last thing, and I'll capitalize it for the people in the back, BBCODED CS'S ARE NOT REQUIRED. As long as it has the meat of what i've specified below, you're straight in my eyes.
  

  Basic Info

  003

  Theme:
  
  Image:
  
  Name:
  
  Alias(s):
  
  Age:
  
  Role:
  
  Date of Birth:
  
  Ethnicity:
  
  Nationality:
  
  Occupation:
  
  Place of Residence:
  
  Gender:
  
  Sexual Orientation:
  
  Stats:
  Intelligence -
  Reflexes -
  Cool -
  Technical Ability -
  Charisma -
  Agility -
  Empathy -
  Body -
  

  Appearance

  004

  Height:
  
  Weight:
  
  Hair Color:
  
  Eye Color:
  
  Appearance: (Brief description of their appearance and style.)

  Lifepath

  005

  Personality: (A paragraph or two about how your edgerunner acts and how they think.)
  
  Backstory: (Your egderunner's story so far.)
  
  Relationships: (Relationships with other edgerunners or people important to your character like family or an input/output)

  Gear

  006

  Equipment: (Short list of what Iron or other equipment you'll be packing)
  
  Cyberware: (Only one piece of cyberware per slot unless it's something that can come in pairs like cyberlegs, arms, eyes etc. Cyberware that is just there for flavor or cosmetic purposes won't count against this list.)
  OS -
  Neural -
  Optical -
  Respiratory -
  Circulatory -
  Nervous -
  Dermal -
  Skeleton -
  Hands -
  Arms -
  Legs -
  Feet -
  
• Roster
  02

  Roster

  Come join the dance of destruction. valor, sweet as a kiss.

  Edgerunners

  Oscalie Clawette

  Medtech

  Madowasu Azamuki

  Solo

  Siegfried Koning

  Panzerboy

  Pawel Krupnik

  Rockerboy

  Dina Sansarita

  Media

  Tetsuro Kincaid

  Solo

  Hwang Sujin

  Netrunner

  Vaitiare Moreau

  Solo

  Zakhar Tarasov

  Medtech

  Celin Holiday

  Rockerboy
• NPC
  03

  Major NPC's

  A thing of Beauty. Will never fade away.

  Eddie DiPiero

  001

  Ethnicity: Italian American
  Nationality: Free States (Night City)
  Alias(s): Nice guy Eddie, Eddie the Head
  Age: 28
  Height: 5'9" ft (175 cm)
  Weight: 158 lbs (71 kg)
  Role: Fixer
  Place of Residence: The Glen, Heywood
  Gender: Male
  
  From the start of his career as a merc, Eddie knew he was never going to be a legend. It wasn't a matter of being a gonk or just plain inept, he could handle himself in a fight if push came to shove, it came down to risk vs reward, and he was much better at making sure the reward outweighed the risk, for himself at least. Running with a crew that was well known in the biz, Eddie was the unofficial brains of the outfit making sure whatever harebrained plan their leader, Jacques, made didn't end up as a bloodbath. Eventually though, Jacques' crew ran out of luck. Whether from betrayal or just plain coincidence, a job to steal data from a militech executive went wrong, a protracted firefight ensued, and out of the 9 crew members Eddie and the crew's netrunner, Misha, were the only ones to make it out.
  
  Despite the disastrous conclusion to the gig Eddie managed to successfully klep the data with the help of his then input Misha, and was payed an exorbitant amount of cash that no longer needed to be split 9 ways, Eddie was able to live comfortably in ensuing months while he waited for the heat to die down. The trauma from the events however didn't leave him, paranoia and and grief over what was a second family putting a wall in between him and some of his only remaining friends and input.
  
  After a brief hiatus and reinventing himself, Eddie returned to the game, this time as a leader of his own crew instead of a subordinate. A combination of a friendly surface and charismatic intrigue earned Eddie his newest nickname, but underneath the facade lies an extremely ruthless and cunning individual. As long as you do right by himself and the crew, Eddie is more than happy to be his namesake, a nice guy. Just don't force him to be the bad guy, a bad guy with a very creative imagination and not many moral qualms about what he desires, especially if he desires retribution out of an actual slight or just petty spite.
  
  After a slew of minor gigs with one-off crews to see if he was capable of performing by some fixers high in Night City's food chain, Eddie began recruiting from the new blood at the Afterlife to form a more permanent crew and gain better and more lucrative jobs.

  WIP

  002

  Ethnicity: --
  Nationality: --
  Alias(s): --
  Age: --
  Height: --
  Weight: --
  Role: --
  Place of Residence: --
  Gender: --
  
  WIP

  WIP

  003

  Race: --
  Alias(s): --
  Age: --
  Height: --
  Weight: --
  Role: --
  Place of Residence: --
  Gender: --
  
  WIP

  WIP

  004

  Ethnicity: --
  Nationality: --
  Alias(s): --
  Age: --
  Height: --
  Weight: --
  Role: --
  Place of Residence: --
  Gender: --
  
  WIP

Code by Nano

 

[0stinato]

​

• The Basics
• Presentation and Past
• Gear and Gigs

• 
  
  
  Name: Oscalie Clawette
  

  
  Alias(es):

  
  
  

  
  

  
  DOB: 11 Jan 2050 (27)
  

  
  Gender: Female (she/her)
  

  
  Nationality: Haitian
  

  
  Occupation: Bodysculptress
  

  
  Residence: Watson (in-house clinic)
  

  
  Sexual Orientation: Demisexual
  
  
  Personality
  
  Aspirational but loyal, Oscalie is keen to make a splash on the unforgiving world of Night City. Even though life has all but proven she is not destined for an existence in the starlight as a rocker, she tries to get eyes on her using her musical knowledge whenever she has some time off. Otherwise, although it is not her dream, she works hard at her bodysculpting business, and will rarely bat an eye at dubiously-sourced cyber- or fashionwares she buys for that job. She is no pushover, but can be edgy at times. That is, she tends to think she is okay, but the city has taken its necessary toll on her, meaning her threshold for experiencing horrors is both high and low: she is rarely traumatised by events, but instead loses some degree of humanity which is possibly worse for her and others. These days, due to her prior experiences finding violence necessary, she is quick to jump to that as a solution, but is no stranger to talking things out. However, she is not the most insightful of people and her intensity can be off-putting. She is quite warm to those she values, often socialising with them and offering help if they need it, though does expect something in return: Osca isn't here to break the mould of non-altriusim.
  
  
  
  Biography
  
  Previously ‘imported’ to America as a more ‘exotic’ (not her choice of words) Doll, Oscalie found that style of life of life in Night City to be unforgiving. When it wasn’t Tiger Claws or Corpos threatening the club she worked at, it was a Tiger Claw or Corpo reducing her to her programming and using her for all the depraved actions you could think of. Upon one particularly nasty occasion, a run-in not with a Tiger Claw nor a Corpo, but a Maelstrom chump looking to sate his lust, Osca was badly damaged. She was discovered by Zakhar, who, relating to being down on one's luck, offered to patch her up in return for an IOU. Oscalie accepted this, not planning on ever repaying it, and returned to work as a Doll for one more year. This time, however, she was a bit smarter, and began to flirt with Mox connections.
  
  Leaving the Doll occupation of your own accord was rarely received well, so Oscalie had to learn very quickly to defend herself before things got too ugly for her. Even after that, self-defence was required: being Haitian, she was suspected to have connections to the Voodoo Boys which naturally came with some people taking exception to her.
  
  From her experience as a Doll, she was very familiar with bodysculpting, with knowledge of ubiquitous facets that enhance someone’s appearance while remaining discrete and understanding of the artistry of fashion sculpting. She learned to become a bodysculptress, a life path that was a natural fit for her. At this time, she became reacquainted with Zakhar, and found a way to settle her debt with him - he saved her from extensive damage, so she did her best to prevent his damage growing too painful. Quickly, she became (in)famous for her ‘claws’, the long, reinforced metal apparatus that double as surgery tools, and triple as weaponry. Some customers come to her little store in Night City just to go under the ‘fingernail’ of Oscalie Clawette, and come away with high-quality fashionware. However, customers the Mox send always come first - they looked out for her once upon a time, and now it is her looking out for others. Despite this skill, her real love is music, but in this world of neon and dust, dreams never come true.
  
  These days, as Night City becomes ever more competitive and Oscalie grows increasingly twitchy, she is always looking for an outlet for some of that excess strength. She spends her time mostly working (bodysculpting or the occasional act of force the Mox may require) or frequenting a nearby dive where she engages in her one act of altruism: performing with her guitar for free. Minor jobs for a pittance of eddies won't cut it anymore. She's got to go bigger.
  
  
  
  Theme
  
  
• 
  
  
  Height: 5'10"
  

  
  Weight: 220lbs or something
  

  
  Hair Colour: Black
  

  
  Eye Colour: Grey
  
  
  
  Appearance Description
  
  Her outfit style choices lie somewhere between Urban Flash and Asia Pop; she typically enjoys bright colours and soft materials, and dresses unusually. While it isn’t so unusual to find the average person sporting incredibly tiny shorts or just fully showing their whole chest, Osca tends to add an eccentric flair to her outfits, such as wearing a loincloth-like article on her lower half with nothing else than underwear. In fact, this is often the case, since she sports a tattoo in an unusual location: in an effort to keep her business relevant on the Night City web, she has a QR code tattooed on her left buttock so it behoves her to keep that part of her exposed as often as possible, no matter how often the rest of her might be covered up. At least that way, should anyone be trying to sneak a picture of her, they might just get redirected to her business.
  
  She has a few other marks on her body of interest: on her shoulders she has some swirling tattoos that are designed to draw attention to the most… provocative areas of her upper body; she also has a scar on her left thigh, that her subdermal beauty enhancement tech can’t quite get rid of; she has a few pieces of jewellery including eyebrow and ear piercings and uses makeup quite sparingly for an ex-Doll.
  
  
  
  Relationships
  
  No significant other at this time. As you can imagine, sexual activity isn’t exactly something Oscalie values super highly anymore. She sees that sort of thing as very cheap and accessible and would even provide it to the right person the right time, but emotional intimacy is much rarer to find. As for family, there is no connection she has to them. Being shipped out of Haiti to become a Doll at a young age will to that to a woman.
  
  She has had various working relationships through her life however: take Heartstop, a brawler of a woman in the Mox who even Oscalie had to admit was better at grappling than she was. Then there was Diamond, Heartstop's input, a mousy pacifist netrunner who ended up being too nervous to go through with her planned bodysculpting at Oscalie's workshop. Back in her Doll days, she was close with a male Doll who went by the name Max T. Thrust (the T stood for Turbo), but he went off the radar a few years back.
  
  Zakhar - Fellow Medtech whose history with Osca goes back a bit. She is responsible for the tech that allows his steady supply of necessary medication to easily be applied.
  
  Aza - An acquaintance whose prowess with blades is aspirational enough for Osca to want to learn from.
  
  STRIGOI - Not a relationship per se, but Paweł is a bit of an idol to Oscalie. Although she is not his typical fan, his brand of manic music appeals to the bestial side of her, and she has been to see live gigs. He made it in music, she didn't - that's left her a bit conflicted, but she can't deny what she enjoys.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  Intelligence: 4
  

  
  Reflexes: 5
  

  
  Cool: 3
  

  
  Technical Ability: 7
  

  
  Charisma: 4
  

  
  Agility: 6
  

  
  Empathy: 4
  

  
  Body: 7
  
  
  Role
  Medtech (Surgery Speciality)
  
  Cyberware
  (Only one piece of cyberware per slot unless it's something that can come in pairs like cyberlegs, arms, eyes etc. Cyberware that is just there for flavor or cosmetic purposes won't count against this list.)
  OS -
  Neural – Emotion Peripheral (cosmetic only) – a small LED screen sticking out of her head that is build into a lightweight metal object in the shape of a musical note. The peripheral reads her likely emotion and displays it on the screen (with 92% accuracy), Braindance recording tech.
  Optical – Cybereye.
  Respiratory - Anti-choke apparatus - a remnant of her Doll days, this simple tech prevents a client from killing upon breath play.
  Circulatory -
  Nervous - yes I am thanks for asking
  Dermal – Biomonitor on wrist, Sub-Dermal Armour, Doll beauty enhancement tech (cosmetic)
  Skeleton -
  Hands – The Claws (flavoured Rippers) – Oscalie uses these for both as weapons and as tools for surgery.
  Arms -
  Body - Mr. Studd (definitely not just cosmetic wink wink eh??)
  Legs -
  Feet –
  
  Equipment: (Short list of what Iron or other equipment you'll be packing)
  Flying-V Guitar – she DID want to be a musician, after all. You should see her claws on that thing.
  Medical Kit - for medical emergencies.
  Bottle of sanitiser - it's not empty. It's really not. See?
  Mechanical toolkit - just the basics, to tune her hands from time to time.
  Light pistol - not easy to use with hands like hers, so she prefers not to have to pull it out.
  
  

 

[Karcen]

• stats
• looks
• life
• combat

• 
  Name: madowasu (Aza) Azamuki ( last first)
  
  Alias(s): kitty ( only by isabella)
  
  Age: 25
  
  Role: solo
  
  Date of Birth: March 5th 2053
  
  Ethnicity: Japanese
  
  Nationality: Night city native
  
  Occupation: Edge runner
  
  Place of Residence: Lives with girlfriend in Wells springs
  
  Gender: Female
  
  Sexual Orientation: lesbian
  
  Stats:
  Intelligence - 3
  Reflexes - 7
  Cool - 7
  Technical Ability - 3
  Charisma - 3
  Agility - 7
  Empathy - 5
  Body - 5
  
• 
  
  Height: 5' 7"
  
  Weight: 250lbs
  
  Hair Color: blonde
  
  Eye Color: Red eyes in the style of a cat ( large iris little white slit pupils )
  
  Appearance: preferring to wear tighter/ more exposed clothes Aza tends to trend towards darker clothing. She tries to claim she is being practical as her camo only covers so much, and she doesn't really need clothes to cover her implants. She tends to avoid bright neon colors as it reminds her to much of her tiger claw days. her skin is pretty much indistinguishable from real skin and her build looks lean and natural despite all the work Isabella has done. Still her ears and tail are stand out feature and anything she wears needs a hole for said tail. That is another she prefers tight clothes, lose clothing has a tendency to rub on her tail and distract her.
  
• 
  Personality: Aza is a bit of an odd ball, she more often tries to play the ninja more than that just being who she is. She tried to be quiet and mysterious, but always feels as if she just looks really dumb acting like that. She hilariously has taken to a mix of the samurai code of honor and the way of ninjas which does make her very loyal, never betraying the client or fixer are at the opt of her list of rules for herself and others. This means she is very trustworthy as a courier for any type of cargo as she won't ask questions or get curious about what she is moving. While Aza won't admit it she is a little similar to the cats she now resembles, but not far enough to need to add nyan to the end of her sentences, she just moves more like one. when not in work mode or after people have become closer to her Aza is rather friendly and even sometimes even easily distracted if she isn't trying to act while on the job. While she doesn't like explaining her relationship with Isabella knowing that many will find it very odd and weird she still does love her despite everything and find isabella anther home to be her once safe can comfy place she can rest and relax.
  
  Backstory: born Seki Hikaru in The japantown district of Night city Seki never actually knew how many generations of her family had lived in night city she doubted her parents were fresh immigrants given both actually had okay jobs for the area. Seki would have had an okay life she planned to go to school get a job ect be a boring productive member of society. Her up brining wasn't exactly sheltered though and as with most any kid in night city she got in a few fights. She once beat up a kid at school , they started it, only to get jumped latter because the kid had family in the tiger claws. This event actually became a core memory an association with the gang and revenge.
  
  Her normal night city up bringing of just barley getting by would be shattered when her father was taken by scavs. They only found this out after he had been missing for a month when the cops had her mother I.D his body after it was found in a scav haunt. While scavs working in tiger claw turf wasn't unheard of it was never welcomed. Seki after finding out who killed her father, or well the general idea of who did not a specific gang member did the only thing she could think of and threw her life away to join a gang to get back at the scavs. Seki became a tiger claw as while she could in theory go after the scavs herself, she wasn't that dumb to think a 12 year old could defeat grown men and women without help. While she was still young Seki did display skills and a ferocity that got her attention from higher gang members. This wasn't the best thing as well if she was going to go higher in the gang, which she wanted to do, she had to get some chrome.
  
  During this time her relationship with her mother had all but broken. Seki had ended up dropping everything when she joined the gang and nothing her mother said could get her to leave it. In the end Seki was kicked out from her home and well needing money and knowing how to get in she robbed her own mother. It was a low point btu to her the means justified the end as even already she had been helping to take out scavs, she was doing good her mother just didn't understand. That was always how she justified it, yeah she did bad things but she was helping in the larger sense of things. it was all just her telling herself lies and part of her knew that.
  
  With the money taken Seki would go to the gang that would happily " help" her with the rest though she had to get the chrome they wanted. Being way to far in as she already had spent a few years and had no where to go, Seki agreed. The gang had a few rippers that got " protection" in exchange for " discounts" on work and so they took her to one. The gang decided having seen Seki had skills with a blade to get her a simple sandy and a few other mods, to make her a killer.
  
  A killer she would be, without even the normal justifications she used to have. She was honestly lucky her body took to the chrome well else she might have gone a bit crazy. Seki would get several upgrades as she rose in esteem of the gang, though never truly a famous member. her life would change again when she was 18 and like any other night she was with the gang and today they were just mugging people. Seki had long grown beyond the task of actually doing the mugging, but someone has to watch the newbies. She was just there to make sure the newbies didn't get in over their heads and deal with trouble marks. After a few hours of mugging the new gang members would find themselves picking the wrong woman and getting shot at. Seki would just roll her eyes and in a blink the woman was dead. Before Seki could launch into a lecture towards the newbies about what to do she noticed the woman looked familiar, very familiar.
  
  In a few heartbeats mid sentence what she had done fully hit Seki, her mother, she had just killed her own mother. She had joined the gang because a gang member had killed her father and she had just killed her mother. She had done it with out thinking. The world spun, but she couldn't move, her mind started to fray. she had been stable thanks to the gang her family, but she had just killed her real family a person she despite every thing still loved. The world went red and Seki blacked out. When she came too latter she was surrounded by bodies. her mother, the claws, people that had been unlucky around her. This was bad, btu at least whatever episode she had wasn't going full cyberpsycho. In the end int he dead of night Seki ran now fully alone and covered in blood.
  
  While she couldn't leave the city Seki could hide in other areas of the city and commit petty crime until she could do something, anything to escape the situation. Seki would in time end up in the shop of one Isabella Avalon a ripper that was more willing to cut deals or so the streets said. Seki explained she wanted a new look a full sculpt. Isabella thought on it and made an offer if Seki let Isabella chose her new look then there would be a significant discount. Seki agreed and when she woke she was a cat girl. This while surprising was likely even better than what she had thought up as well now she looked completely different. Isabella would keep Seki int he shop a bit after the sculpt was done and got Seki to tell her her story. Seki was surprised when Isabella offered to let Seki stay with her and she agreed anything was better than where she had been staying.
  
  The two would form this develop a relationship and Isabella would do all the chrome work one Seki or as she was now known madowasu Azamuki or kitty by Isabella. This helped as Aza took up the only job someone in debt with no real education or skills could do, she became an edgrunner. Isabella actually have been one a few years back so helped Aza get int the game setting her up with some fixers she knew. Now years latter Aza is still with her and still doing her job. She sometimes does wonder what the price to have her debt forgiven by Isabella would be as the life of edgerunning is almost as draining as gang life.
  
  Relationships:
  
  Spoiler: Isabella Avalon

  

  
  Age 43
  gender: female
  occupation: ripper doc
  description: Aza's girlfriend and ripper doc. Having originally met Aza under her real name she was the one who would change the girls looks for a price. After that she would quickly take a shine to Aza and invite her to stay with her. She is an odd one a retired edgerunner that couldn't go far turned doc to help others get killed following their dreams. Her relationship with Aza is odd to any outsider but somehow they make it work
  Oscalie Clawette: A friend of Isabella that Aza has helped train in combat
  
  Tetsuro Kincaid: Aza finds him annoying not because of any issues with his personality but be ause of she decides to speak Japanese only he can speak it back. That completly ruins the mystique to her.
  
• 
  Gear
  006
  Equipment:
  main weapon: Katana
  side weapons: Several small throwing knives
  last line weapons: mantis claws
  
  Cyberware: (Only one piece of cyberware per slot unless it's something that can come in pairs like cyberlegs, arms, eyes etc. Cyberware that is just there for flavor or cosmetic purposes won't count against this list.)
  
  OS - Dynalar Sandevistan
  Neural -
  Optical - cyber eyes ( modified for cat eyes) cosmetic
  Respiratory -
  Circulatory -
  Nervous - Synaptic Accelerator
  Dermal - Optical Camo, Gene-Tek RealSkinn ( cosmetic changed her skin tone)
  Skeleton - Cat's spine: a unique peice of cyberware that goes through the spinal column. Created by Isabella fir Aza it is a mix of scratch built and recycled Sandy parts. The cat's spine allows aza to enhance either the slow down rate of her sandy or its duration. This however puts great strain on the body and can only really be used with cyber limbs and eyes.
  Hands -
  Arms - Mantis blades
  Legs - Cyber legs ( modified easy to remove double jump)
  Feet -
  Cosmetic- Cat ears and tail
  

 

[Worthlessplebian]

• Basics
• Appearance
• Product History
• Specifications
• Workhorse

• 
  Art by Kobe SekName: Siegfried "Sigi" Koning;
  
  Alias(s): V0lk;
  
  Age: 29;
  
  Role: Panzerboy;
  
  Date of Birth: 26.11;
  
  Ethnicity: Caucasian
  
  Nationality: German-US Citizen
  
  Occupation: (Former) Militech Engineer, (Currently) Autoshop Mechanic;
  
  Place of Residence: Watson, NC;
  
  Gender: Male;
  
  Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual;
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Stats:
  Intelligence - 6
  Reflexes -5
  Cool - 5
  Technical Ability - 6
  Charisma - 3
  Agility - 5
  Empathy - 4
  Body - 6
  
• 
  Height: 6'1 (185 cm)
  
  Weight: 174 lbs (79 kg)
  
  Hair Color: Black;
  
  Eye Color: Grey;
  
  Appearance: Siegfried is unremarkably plain, his countenance unspoiled by the excessive modifications, cosmetic or otherwise, frequented by many of Night City's residence. His face is accentuated by a youthful leanness, inquisitive and determined, complementary to his long, jet hair hanging below his neck, the inky hues framing the stark, spectral greys of his eyes. They gleam like the moon, radiating a sense of familiarity. Siegfried was broad, but svelte, his fair skin pockmarked with puckered scars and lengthy abrasions, as though he were carved from marble then made worn by time's erosion and the crash of waves, whittling rock into shape. Memorabilia of the many tumbles, falls, and slides he garnered over the years. He often affects a well-worn, bright crimson long-coat, tight combat fatigues, and a near-signature helm, smooth featureless plates of ivory and coal, that bore an artistic skull-like sigil. Often, he is also found in stained coveralls when he isn't tasked with a job.
  
• Personality: An archetypal corporate engineer, Siegfried is a staunch wall of professionalism and flint-edged perfectionist. He approaches many aspects of life with a cold, analytical process, more suited in the programming routines of a machine than man's dynamic, vibrant mind, however, he obfuscates this mechanical line of thinking beneath a poor, thin veneer of relaxation and mellow attitude, but cracked with a smile stretched too wide, matched with eyes that gleam lifelessly or flickering with emotion. Sigi tends to ramble frequently, especially during extensive repairs, whether the topic of the machine itself or the latest developments in a variety of sporting competitions. He is apathetic, cold to a fault to the multitude of fresh miseries inflicted upon the souls around him, even electing to dole out the gunpowdered cruelty himself in equal—or greater measure. But he is not wholly anesthetised to the barbaric violence pervading 'round him, going so far as to stop altercations himself when taken beyond his tolerances.
  
  He enjoys the pleasures he allots himself, frequently celebrating successful endeavours with an inexpensive spirit or the dalliance of an escort. In fact, he is loath to accept anything from anyone unless Siegfried requested it himself and only very rarely has he done that. This is born from the inescapable well of paranoia clutched in his heart, churning his stomach like a vile cancer. Or perhaps, it is the reason he has survived for so long on his own. At the cost of himself or many others. But for each of his faults, vice, and failings, he is remarkably determined to succeed. He will try and try and try and try. Until he is broken or his obstacle is broken upon him, dashed against the wall of his resolve.
  
  Backstory: Born and bred by an aspiring pair of managers within the Euro Business Machines megacorporation, Siegfried "Sigi" Koning had been smothered in the white, velvet shroud of luxury and silver spoon enjoyed by his pedigree's affluence. From the earliest age, Siegfried bore witness to the fractious duplicity, treachery, and sycophancy plaguing the corporate world — sinful favours exchanged behind closed doors, funds embezzled from projects in desperate need, and voices silenced by the tattoo of gunfire. The young boy's upbringing melded seamlessly within this pitch world; hounded by his parents' expectations, left cold on lonesome starless nights, forced into arbitrary competition after competition. But never was their hand raised against their forged pupil. He had been studious in his education, devoting himself with the same zeal he recognised in his parents, a fleeting hope they would appreciate his efforts beyond the niceties they flaunted to others.
  
  By his early teens, he had already been enrolled into an internship program dedicated to expediating employment into EBM's massive workforce.
  
  Until the coup was enacted. When the megacorporation's greed had finally outstripped their sensibilities, EBM launched a deep strike attempt to overthrow the German government before drowning beneath a hailstorm of lead and blood. Siegfried's parents, however, retained enough pragmatism and self-preservation to have plotted their escape from the company's ill-fated cascade of terrible decisions. They fled to America, their freedom and prosperity abetted by a contact within Militech who received a minor reward for corralling them into the corporation's vice-grip. Siegfried's education had been concluded by that time, a fitting tool to be shuffled into Militech's kit. He had all but accepted his lot in this God-forsaken world, toiling away underneath the rank stench of motor oil, the blaring artificial light from the lumens above, and the incessant chatter of his coworkers. He found a love for the field amidst it all like savouring the cold wind on a starry night, its chill biting deep into exposed flesh. But even newfound appreciation could not stem the rolling tide of frustration. Siegfried broke. Buckled beneath the weight of dissatisfaction, the mind-shearing agitation of the inefficiency of his work, and the decades of his life wasted in service to these superfluous machines of profit and growth.
  
  He cleaved his life from work, disappearing within thick palls of black smoke and burning wreckage. Unburdened, he hastened his enmeshment within civilian life and the vicious criminal underworld. There were difficulties, but he preferred the harsh trials to the monotony of corporate life. Now he relishes the place of simplistic splendour he forged with his own, scarred hands. Finally able to relax in the pleasures he was denied.
  
  Relationships: Zakhar "Iron Lung" Tarasov — Employer: Siegfried is frequently responsible for transporting Tarasov's illicit supplies throughout NC, distribution or collection in exchange for eurodollars or medical services;
  
• Equipment:
  - Militech Arms Avenger
  - Militech Mastiff
  - Tech Toolkit
  - RapiDeploy Sheath
  - Unidentified Motorcycle;
  
  Cyberware:
  OS - N/A
  Neural - N/A
  Optical - N/A
  Respiratory - N/A
  Circulatory - N/A
  Nervous - N/A
  Dermal - Subdermal Armor
  Skeleton - N/A
  Hands - See Arms.
  Arms - Cyberarm (left): Customware - The F3nr1r - Drone Domination & Manipulation is a custom piece of cyberware designed by Siegfried Koning to manipulate and enhance his bike's capabilities via remote control of an onboard drone unit installed by Koning himself. It allows him to rapidly call the bike to his position and instruct rudimentary commands. It also allows the usage of mounted weaponry, located at the motorcycle's front. However, due to Koning's paranoia, it is limited by its low-tech construction from the hardened, outdated comm-method, the input lag caused by Koning's physical tapping, the rudimentary AI only able to execute simple orders to its forced deactivation if enough damage is dealt.
  Legs - N/A
  Feet - N/A
  
• Theme:
  
  

 

[ThaDruid]

Art by: Deathburger
​

• The Basics
• Presentation and Past
• Gear and Gigs

• 
  
  
  Name: Paweł Krupnik
  

  
  Alias(es): STRIGOI (Stage name)
  

  
  Date of Birth: 25th December 2054
  

  
  Gender: Male
  

  
  Nationality: East-european descendant, Night City native
  

  
  Occupation: Ex-roadie for Tinnitus, Rocker, Edgerunner by night
  

  
  Residence: Shitty megablock apartment
  

  
  Sexual Orientation: Fucks with everyone
  
  
  Personality
  
  
  Anger is his motive force, suffering's an afterthought: when you come from nothing and can rip everything from the greedy hands of fate, you know you've found your freedom.
  And Paweł has found his in STRIGOI, discarding any notion of normality to live a life of extremes, plowing through the destiny that was set out for him like a single-minded ram, existing only to burn out hard and fast, raging against whatever becomes his hatred of the week, be it the corporations, the gangoons who prey on the weak, or the indifferent masses who let it all happen. As frivolous as they may seem, his constant condemnations at the world are felt as very sincere and engaging, and people flock to him with morbid curiosity and admiration, like bystanders to the greatest car wreck of the world.
  A cyberpunk through and through, severe with himself and those around him but with a sense of judgement that looks up to an unattainable ideal. Night City has given him a taste of a dream that he would die following. Paweł does not do it for the fame, the fans or the attention: he does it to send a firebrand message, whatever that may be.
  
  
  
  Biography
  
  
  A wastrel from the poorest parts of town, close to the industrial district of Northside, Paweł's childhood was mostly spent making himself look as small and unnoticeable as possible. Of course he would develop a sickening taste for the frightening and the grotesque: he grew up surrounded by it. Dorph heads, criminals, joytoys, and the unforgiving hand of the lawmen, simply another gang under a different name: he learned that pretty soon, as a kid he had a talent playing lookout for the grown-ups. It's not that little Paweł fell in with a bad crowd. Little Paweł never had a choice in the matter.
  
  He fired his first gun at age 10, shooting one of his playmates by mistake with a vending machine Slaught-o-matic that still had a few bullets in the clip when it got discarded. The other kid survived. They never played again.
  
  As the years went by, so did the extent of his wheelings and dealings to carve out a little space for himself in unforgiving Night City. The big break came when a friend of a friend introduced him to the Totentanz. Red lights, thumming music, chromed freaks, no one to bat an eye or an optic visor at his scars, his bruises, his shitty clothes. A place to feel at ease, a place to indulge. And indulge he did, for a few years that whizzed by in a tornado of sensations, he became a known quantity of the scene, began integrating his first implants, began producing his own music, began accelerating.
  
  It took a while to find the perfect fit, the perfect sound for his expression. A secret science, brutal chemistry: cranking everything up to the max and then finding perfection within the extreme. Raw, ruined instrumentals, throat-ravaging screeches, merciless hammering of war drums. It took a while, and to do so he had to learn from a trio of true masters. Paweł practically begged on his knees for Tinnitus to take him as their roadie, he'd do anything: being close to them was a reward in itself. He had a way with words, a smoldering emotion in his eyes. He learned. He tweaked. He discarded those same eyes for a digitized visor. He kept living, faster faster faster.
  
  He began playing, at first simply opening for bigger names. The music resonated, turning simple concerts into cult-like gatherings, events of a religious weight that caught the listeners by the soul. He fed off of the people, invigorated by their emotion, nourished by their power. STRIGOI was birthed by the malcontent multitudes. He parted ways with the band, distancing himself from Maelstrom. He had no part in that. He had his own message, his own identity, spreading like a virus.
  
  Finally, a place in the world. What he always wanted. He had it all figured out.
  .
  .
  It's not enough. The world is sick. The suffering does not end.
  .
  .
  I can change that. They listen to me.
  
  
  
  
  Theme
  
  
• 
  
  
  Height: 180cm
  

  
  Weight: Probably gets to 100kg with all the chrome
  

  
  Hair Colour: Blonde
  

  
  Eye Colour: Neon, changes often
  
  
  Appearance Description
  
  
  Every edge of Paweł's blocky frame screams pain, hardship and grinding of teeth. The "extreme rocker" persona that he shows off on stage is not a part he plays, it's a true facet of his most intimate being that he pridefully shows off in unbridled glory. Spikes and leather meld with military wear and old bloodsplatters, scratched and beaten and then patched back up again with kevlar and iron wires. He usually goes shirtless underneath his jacket, showing off a thick but solid frame, chaotic with scars that break up a constellation of tattoos in the BrutalBlack style.
  A stray bloodhound who's long bit through his collar and now roams free through the darkest tunnels of Night City.
  
  
  
  Relationships
  
  
  WIP
  
  A limited but very dedicated cult following, lots of overlap with Totentanz regulars, Maelstrom affiliates and the infamous boostergang itself. His main contact with the gang are the three members of the Tinnitus techno band, whom he's worked for before.
  
  Important people:
  
  RICTUS: Obsessed chromejock, solo for hire and childhood friend. Introduced Paweł to edgerunning.
  
  "Menpo" Jones: Watson tattoo artist and underground ripperdoc. Responsible for most of Paweł's body art.
  
  Zakhar 'Iron Lung' Tarasov: Reliable drug dealer pharmaceutical supplier
  
  Other playas who want the connection let me know
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  Intelligence: 3
  

  
  Reflexes: 5
  

  
  Cool: 7
  

  
  Technical Ability: 3
  

  
  Charisma: 7
  

  
  Agility: 4
  

  
  Empathy: 5
  

  
  Body: 6
  
  
  Role: Rockerboy
  Cyberware:
  OS -
  Neural - Noisefreak's Hearing Amp [Specifically tweaked for use by musicians, amplifies user's hearing and allows them to single out unique noises even in loud environments]
  Optical - 'Strom-lite Visor [Able to switch between different wavelengths, zoom and take pictures/record. Offers greater resolution than traditional sight, but it ain't no Kiroshis. Usually acts as "transition-chrome" for gangoons who are considering the Maelstrom initiation]
  Respiratory -
  Circulatory - Blood Pump [Backup haemorrhage stopper. The crowd usually goes wild seeing the singer bleed out on stage.]
  Nervous - Pain Editor [Increase or decrease pain sensitivity on a whim]
  Dermal -
  Skeleton -
  Hands - Pneumatic Wrist-Spike [For lethal self-defense. Technically illegal.]
  Arms -
  Legs -
  Feet -
  Flavorware - Sharkgrin Special™ Vampires [Teeth filed to a point], Voice Modulator [Add sound filters, mimick others' voices]
  
  Equipment:
  ICONIC GEAR PIECE: Strigoi's Leathers - A rockerboy's patched-together bulletproof synleather-kevlar outfit, decorated with studs, spikes, and a fearsome holo-rendition of a demonic vampire beast on the back. Offers solid protection, unmatched style, but is also VERY recognizable.
  DB-2 Satara - Power shotgun, supercharged shots are able to punch through cover
  Noisefreak's Portable Synth-deck - Can record and play on the go, with a wide database of premade and custom samples. Paweł willingly set it to apply a raw filter to the music it produces, making it sound like the audio files are corrupted. Also works as an amp.
  Electronic Bass-tar - Apex predator of the instrumental landscape, ugly to look at and unwieldy to play, the Bass-tar offers unprecedented sound-range and sound RAGE, becoming a tool of sonorous warfare when in the hands of a true master.
  
  

 

[StormWolf]

​

• >//: CRITICAL INTEL
• >//: APPEARANCE
• >//: DOSSIER
• >//: ASSETS

• 
  
  Name: Tetsuro Kincaid
  
  Alias(s): Ronin
  
  Age: 30
  
  Role: Solo
  
  Date of Birth: 04/04/2048
  
  Ethnicity: Japanese/Caucasian
  
  Nationality: Dual citizenship; Japan, Pacific Confederation
  
  Occupation: Mercenary // Edgerunner
  
  Place of Residence: Kabuki
  
  Gender: Male; he/him
  
  Sexual Orientation: Bisexual, hetero-leaning
  
  >//: STATS
  Intelligence -- 3
  Reflexes -- 7
  Cool -- 5
  Technical Ability -- 3
  Charisma -- 3
  Agility -- 6
  Empathy -- 6
  Body -- 7
  
  THEME:
  
  
• 
  Height: 6’2”
  
  Weight: 210lbs
  
  Hair Color: Black
  
  Eye Color: Blue
  
  Appearance:
  Even though Tetsuro left behind his corporate kill-squad days behind him, he still dresses sharply for a street samurai. While the sleek black and graphite of his three-piece may be more off-the-rack than the custom tailored Jinguji wardrobe he used to frequent, Tetsuro is still fills his suits out well, possessing the lean muscle of a seasoned killer. The one affectation he wears over the ballistic weave businesswear is a crimson trench coat with quilted carbon viber inseams, accents, and armor plates - a SkidRow Trench armorjack .
  
  While not as well-kempt as he was on the job as he used to be, Tetsuro’s short beard is etched by old scars and the geometries of EMP threading woven into his cheekbones and temples. Shoulder length, jet black hair is often tied up into a modest bun at the back of his head. Loose strands fall free to frame a severe countenance and stern, steely blue eyes (and usually a set of amber mirrorshades).
  
  Though mostly covered from the eyes of the public, Tetsuro’s body is sleeved in tattoos reminiscent of the old yakuza, if with a geometric futurist flair. They could never be confused for the gouache Tyger Claw light tattoos, as Tetsuro was from a higher, older guard when he got his ink. Below his right ear, there is a tattoo of a red chrysanthemum; where the Arasaka brand had once sat at the center, it has been blacked out.
• 
  >//: Peronality Profile
  Tetsuro is a pragmatist. Stern, austere, and severe. When he's working, he's working. This makes him prickly, jaded. He is one to measure a situation diligently before springing to action.
  
  Still, he enjoys his creature comforts and routine. He frequents the Saucy Noods stand in Kabuki for a bowl and a beer and commutes to Japantown at least once a week to have dinner with his sister and her kids. Though quality ingredients are hard to come by, Tetsuro loves to cook.
  
  Photos in Minami's apartment show a man that used to readily smile, but has grown guarded since their exodus from their motherland.
  
  >//: History
  For most born into the Time of Red, amid the post-war climate crisis, especially among the denizens of Chiba City’s sprawl, they know hardship greater than most. Tetsuro did not. From the start of his life, he knew the comfort of his family estate. A legacy to Arasaka and their yakuza roots via his mother’s side of the family.
  
  Tetsuro was brought up on the merits of the Arasaka old guard through Zaburo’s dojo and western corporate-military practices through his father’s tutelage. Such extracurriculars provided the young Tetsuro a fast track through the Arasaka academy. Alas, when the time for selections came, he was not chosen for the vaunted yojimbo positions, guarding the most valuable personnel within the corporate structure - a disappointment among the family, no doubt, but Tetsuro still served with distinction as a member of Arasaka special operations structure; an agent of Arasaka’s market forces.
  
  Where his sister climbed the ladders of power through board rooms and offices, Tetsuro was another cog in the machine; another piece of the meat grinder. Minami Kincaid had always been Tetsuro’s charge; his dearest friend and confidant. As the years marched on, Tetsuro remained static in his vocation while Minami soared ahead. She found herself in a marriage that was advantageous amid the warring factions within Arasaka. She had two children by this contract before things started to go sour.
  
  Tetsuro had never anticipated being an uncle, he hadn’t expected his sister to come to him bruised and desperate for a solution. Minami’s marriage was always something political, but it had turned into a form of imprisonment. Her husband was of the Kiji faction within Arasaka, while the Kinkaids were always allied with the Taka. In a perfect world where cooler heads prevailed, Tetsuro could have found a way to extract Minami in a pain-stakingly planned op - he had, after all, grown accustomed to such asset acquisitions and liquidations.
  
  But this was his sister. His niece and nephew.
  
  Tetsuro resolved his sister’s marriage with twin claps of thunder in her husband’s corner office. The die had been cast and the clock was ticking. It took all of Tetsuro’s financials - and no shortage of theft from the family estate - to secure new papers and secure passage out of Tokyo to Night City.
  
  Leaving the lap of luxury behind, the Kincaids fought to survive like anyone else in the City of Dreams. Tetsuro took to the streets as an Edgerunner, putting his skills as a Solo to work. As two fresh transplants to Kabuki and Japantown, the Tyger Claws tried to sweep Tetsuro and Minami up into their syndicate. Something the Ronin aggressively objected to.
  
  The death of Saburo-sama and the tumult that followed put the Kincaid’s on high alert. Arasaka forces would be out in earnest, which would complicate life for the deserters. Thankfully, someone else seemed to be keeping them busy. In the year since, Tetsuro has been putting himself to the grindstone, making a name for himself while putting whatever savings he can muster towards a semblance of a more comfortable, non-kibble lifestyle for his sister and her family. Once they are stable, he can consider worrying about himself.
  
  >//: Relationships
  Open
  
• 
  >//: Equipment
  Weapons: Constitutional Arms Liberty (10mm), D5 Copperhead AR, Throwing knives
  Vehicle: Thornton Galena G240
  Unique: Kendachi Mono-Three - a high tech katana with a biometric key in the grip matched to Tetsuro’s family gene-marker. When keyed, the micro-serrated carbo-glass edge flares neon red as it vibrates four thousand times a minute. An excellent quality weapon for carving gangoons up like shawarma.
  
  >//: Cyberware
  OS -
  Neural - Zetatech Kerenzikov
  Optical - Raven Cyberoptics - Multispectrum Lense (Low light/ infrared/ UV), Targeting Scope
  Respiratory - Nasal Filters
  Circulatory - Nanosurgeons
  Nervous -
  Dermal -
  Skeleton -
  Hands - Subdermal Grip
  Arms - Gorilla Arms
  Legs -
  Feet -
  

 

[Beann]

• .
• .
• .
• .

• Basic
  Bio
  Combat
  Theme
  Art \\Villain to Kill

  Name \\ Hwang Sujin
  Alias \\ F0UR
  Age \\ 27
  Gender \\ Female
  Sexuality \\ Heterosexual
  
  Date of Birth \\ 15 NOV 2050
  Place of Residence \\ Little China
  
  Ethnicity \\ Korean
  Nationality \\ Korean-US Citizen
  Role \\ Netrunner
  Occupation \\ Edgerunner (part-time), Gambler (full-time)
  
  Height \\ 5'5"
  Weight \\ 140lbs
  Hair Color \\ White
  Eye Color \\ Blue
  Appearance \\ Sujin is not one to stand out but does enjoy wearing the color blue. She prefers comfort over fashion and doesn't have the time (is too lazy) to change her hairstyle. Typically seen wearing simple black leggings and an oversized blue jacket.
  
  
• Basic
  Bio
  Combat
  Theme
  Art \\Villain to Kill

  Persona \\
  Exudes a cold and prickly persona to hide the fact that she's a big softie; the prime example of a tsundere. She acts like words don't hurt her but will cry in the bathroom ten minutes later. Sujin has a gambling addiction that translates to real life decisions, always choosing to all-in or take the highest risk for the biggest reward.
  
  Bio \\
  Formerly considered a child-genius, Sujin was scouted and sponsored by a subsidiary of Militech to develop a new security software. While most of the work was hers, she had help from a friend in the early stages of coding. After the successful launch of the software, a high-profile security breach occurred months later and conveniently, her friend had a solution prepared. While her friend was praised for the quick fix, Sujin’s reputation was tarnished as only her name was on the infamous software and she was blacklisted from any legitimate work.
  
  From then on, she turned to underground netrunning, taking whatever menial hacking jobs she could find for scraps. In her free time (which is a majority of the time), she participates in virtual gambling, hoping to win enough to establish a comfortable lifestyle for herself. Unfortunately, her tendency to bet all her winnings in hopes of doubling it usually never pays off.
  
  Relationships \\
  TBD (Open)
  
  
• Basic
  Bio
  Combat
  Theme
  Art \\Villain to Kill

  Stats \\
  Intelligence - 8
  Reflexes - 7
  Cool - 3
  Technical Ability - 8
  Charisma - 3
  Agility - 5
  Empathy - 3
  Body - 3
  
  Equipment \\
  

  • Lucky penny
  • Loaded dice
  • Taser
  • Generic revolver

  
  Cyberware \\
  OS - Tetratronic Rippler MK 1
  Neural - Dataterm Link
  Optical - Zetatech Cyberoptics (Thermograph Sensor)
  Respiratory - N/A
  Circulatory - N/A
  Nervous - N/A
  Dermal - N/A
  Skeleton - N/A
  Hands - N/A
  Arms - N/A
  Legs - N/A
  Feet - N/A
  
  
• Basic
  Bio
  Combat
  Theme
  Music \\
  
  

  Music \\ purple drip boy

 

[Steve Jobs]

CYBERPUNK: STREETS OF FIRE

Identity

Vaitiaré Moreau

VI

Freelancer

OCCUPATION

EDGERUNNER

100%

Section 01. Registry

AGE

32

DATE OF BIRTH

August 5, 2046

HEIGHT

6'2"

GENDER

Cis Female

ETHNICITY

Tahitian & French

NATIONALITY

Night City

PLACE OF BIRTH

Papeete, Tahiti

PLACE OF RESIDENCE

Arroyo

SEXUALITY

Unknown

ROLE

Solo

APPEARANCE

Vaitiare is a tall, muscular woman who wears her chrome on her sleeves. Unlike most people, she doesn't consider it necessary to look human. They serve as a reminder of her past mistakes and the reason she became an Edgerunner. Her green eyes burn with determination while severe cheekbones give her the appearance of someone older and more experienced. One would think with such a worn expression, she wouldn't invest in something as frivolous as fashion, but it's quite the opposite. She adorns her locs with fabric bands and metallic cuffs, often swapping colors based on her mood. When she isn't on a gig, she'll swap her form fitting clothing for looser clothing reminiscent of retro trends.

Section 02. Statistics

STATISTIC 01: INTELLIGENCE

3

STATISTIC 02: REFLEXES

5

STATISTIC 03: COOL

4

STATISTIC 04: TECHNICAL

5

STATISTIC 05: CHARISMA

5

STATISTIC 06: AGILITY

4

STATISTIC 07: EMPATHY

6

STATISTIC 08: BODY

8

SYSTEMS//CYBERWARE
OPERATING None
NEURAL None
OPTICAL None
RESPIRATORY Syn-Lungs
IMMUNE None
CIRCULATORY Bioplastic Blood Vessels
NERVOUS None
SKELETAL Titanium Bones
HANDS ICONIC - Militech Shock Masters (L & R) - A prototype she snagged before starting the strikes, the Shock Masters are capable of shorting out weak cyberware and flatlining people with a heart condition.
ARMS Militech VetSmartⓒ Arm Prosthetics (R)
LEGS Militech VetSmartⓒ Leg Prosthetics (L & R)
FEET Militech VetSmartⓒ Foot Prosthetics (L & R)

EQUIPMENT

Militech VetSmartⓒ Maintenance Kit: A general maintenance kit for her prosthetics. It includes lubricant, spare parts, a few proprietary tools, and adapters.
Backpack: A hiker's backpack that holds clothes, toiletries, and laptop.
Crowbar: Handy for packages and self-defense
DB-2 Testera: A durable, double-barrel shotgun that uses traditional ammo.
Militech M-10AF Lexington: A standard, reliable pistol.

Section 03. Background

PERSONALITY

Vaitiare is a conflicted woman. It's impossible for her to be neutral on a subject because she has a strong sense of justice but knows she's in the minority of Edgerunners. Her allies, her fixers, and damn near all of her clients are liars, hoarders, and cheats. They recruit her because they can't or won't do the dirty work alone; she accepts because her brother's tuition isn't going to pay for itself. The turmoil plays out in little ways like anonymously tossing a few eddies towards the kids whose parents she killed or negotiating for less casualties. It sways her towards any gigs that stick it to the corpos and lawmen who failed her.

Her family is both a burden and a boon. She knows that without them, she could have a life of her own, but what good is money if you have nobody to spend it on? Instead Vaitiare takes small comforts like buying the family a robot dog or taking them to a movie (a real movie and not a BD). Most days that's enough, but some days the back of her brain itches. It longs to restart the movement.

It longs to watch the world burn.

EARLY LIFE

Vaitiare didn't always live in Night City. Born in Papeete, Tahiti, her family immigrated when she was around ten years old in search of greener pastures. For all of Night City's failings, the euros were worth more than the pacific franc and Night City was a cheaper move than to France. Though she barely spoke English, she found herself as the go between for landlords, teachers, doctors, and any intermediaries once she picked up the language. Between school, helping her parents fill out job applications, and later, taking care of her younger brother it was a miracle that she had anything resembling a social life.

Being the babysitter for first generation immigrants, 6th street members, and retired corpos, Vaitiare had a tangential connection to every family within Santo Domingo. Combine that with a few weeks as a cleaner and dog sitter and she became a fly on the wall and a trusted confidant for those who either couldn't or didn't want to go to therapy. She'd be the first to hear about the latest scandal coming out of the district and in some cases, those having to do with the higher ups of the industry. It was easy to bond over gossip, but it didn't equate to true friendship. As she grew older, those who sat with her at lunch suddenly couldn't answer calls or prevent her resume from being tossed in the trash.

No one wanted to be associated with the high school wash out stuck in her hometown or the woman who knew all the skeletons in their closet.

SIGNIFICANT EVENTS
25/03/2056 The Moreau family moves to Night City, NUSA

16/06/2064 Vaitiare graduates high school. She forgoes college due to not acquiring any scholarships and instead, begins working at Militech as an assembly technician.

15/06/2066 Vaitiare discovers that one of the machines she was operating had a safety measure removed...the hard way. An internal investigation shows no negligence on Militech's end and files the incident under "self-harm." Militech, the charitable company that they are, replaces her lost limbs with their line of VetSmartⓒ prosthetics, free of charge.

28/05/2067 Her father is diagnosed with radiation poisoning after years of working for a nuclear waste disposal company. Though Vaitiare encourages him and the rest of the affected workers to file a lawsuit, little comes about it. As it turned out, a pro bono lawyer friend is no match for a corporation.

23/06/2067 Militech decides to amp up production to prep for "something big" (so says the grapevine). Vaitiare takes on a second job to help pay off the family's mounting debt but finds that while her prosthetics could keep up, she could not. On the advice of one of her co-workers she gets Syn-Lungs implanted to bolster her energy. Then Bioplastic Blood Vessels to improve circulation and Titanium Bones to hold herself together. Sadly, ripperdocs come with their own prices and very few take health insurance.

20/02/2068 With the family's savings drained, Vaitiare's father declines further treatment, causing an argument to erupt between the family.

01/09/2068 Vaitiare's father dies and is cremated. They scatter his ashes along Del Coronado Bay. Trying to recoup some of their expenses, the family sells the house in Rancho Coronado and moves to Arroyo.

20/05/2069 Vaitiare's mother begins to forget. People, places, words...and soon what she's doing. The family doctor diagnoses her with early onset dementia. She forcibly retires from her cashier job and Vaitiare becomes her primary caretaker.

20/11/2072 Vaitiare organizes a strike against her workplace. Leading with a walkout, everyone circled the factory with picket signs and marquees demanding higher wages and more employee protections. No Gods, No Masters spread like wildfire, inspiring factories across the state to do the same. The machinery of Santo Domingo was drowned out by the chorus of workers rallying for a better life. Tear gas, rubber bullets, and actual bullets riddled the area as the NCPD was called in to quell the riots. Where the 6th Street gang would have normally been enough to contain the damage, the issue had split its members down the middle. After two weeks of nonstop fighting, the NCPD (assisted by Militech security) squashes the protest at Vaitiare's (former) workplace and arrests anyone that hasn't died. Vaitiare is released from prison a few weeks later.

25/12/2072 Vaitiare breaks bad. Being a registered felon doesn't leave you with many job prospects and even fewer if you were the face of a labor movement. Still, she pursued her remaining connections and delved into the criminal world. It didn't matter how menial or dangerous the task. She had no questions, no complaints, and no paper trail. At first she was a maid, then a chauffeur, and a repairman. Then a smuggler, a getaway driver, and muscle for hire. Transitioning to the criminal underground proved easier than she thought and raked in more money than petty tasks, but she hasn't managed to squash her conscience.

Section 04. Extra

FACECLAIM CREDIT

Resistance Illaoi, Bo Chen
Chemical Reactions, Danguiz

THEME SONG

RELATIONSHIPS

Manavai Moreau (Alive) - Her mother. Having been diagnosed with early onset dementia (due in part to her husband's death), she relies on her daughter and son for full time care. She seems to believe that her husband is alive and that Vai still works at Militech.
Tevaiharoa Moreau (Alive) - Her younger brother who is currently balancing a part time job and college.
Mylan Moreau (Deceased) - Her father.
First Lastname (Deceased/Alive) - WIP
First Lastname (Deceased/Alive) - WIP
First Lastname (Deceased/Alive) - WIP

CODE BY SEROBLISS

 

[Avi2023]

'IRON LUNG' MEDTECH

full name

Zakhar Tarasov

alias

Iron Lung, ‘Iron Lung’ Tarasov, Zak

ethnicity

Slavic

Nationality

American xxxx (arrived in his late twenties)

Occupation

Riot Supplier

Place of Residence

xxxx (moves around, main clinic is in Pacifica)

d.o.b.

February 9th 2042

height

6'3

hair

Dark brown, tied in a low knot. Hits his shoulders.

eyes

Dark brown, almost black.

Build

Broad shouldered though a bit sickly. Zakhar wears a gas infuser to mitigate the complications of a few cybernetic implants gone wrong. The infuser looks and partially functions as a gas mask. Developed by a fellow Organ member with his input. Further rigged by Osca.
Wears a weathered poncho, marred with scars and scratches. Faded black thin hoodie underneath. Utilitarian, sturdy canvas pants with many pockets holding emergency meds. Tourniquet straps on his left bicep. Sturdy scuffed boots; more for purpose than aesthetic. Belt also holds emergency tools. Enough pouches to look a little suspicious.

Gender and Orientation

Male. Demi.

What is Usually in His Pockets

For himself: Thiamine, Azathioprine, Adrenaline, Deusizine, Tonic Liquid (enough to last a few weeks before restock)
For general use: Surge, Stim, Speedheal, Rapidetox, Bandages (box of Slap Patches), Saline (2 pints of Blood Substitute™), Antibiotic Glue, Morphine, Alcohol, Chloral Hydrate, a couple of cans of Spray Skin and Shower In A Can
Tools: Bootleg Trauma Team Field Kit, two generations old Bodyweight Portable Intern Unit, and a DermaStapler

Stats

Intelligence: 7
Reflexes: 5
Cool: 6
Technical Ability: 7
Charisma: 3
Agility: 3
Empathy: 4
Body: 5

body modifications

Respiratory (Soviet Cybernetics can be seen at his sternum, as well as his jugular)- Company funded implant that refuses to leave. Because he would not survive a replacement, he uses his infuser to constantly administer drugs and filter the air around him. Thiamine, Azathioprine, Adrenaline, Tonic Liquid and Deusizine specifically.
The added adrenaline to his system gives him focus. The thiamine also gives him more overall health, but he is weak to poisons and infection.
Should his mask be removed, he slowly goes into acute respiratory failure and cardiac arrest. Would likely flatline without intervention within 48 hours (over the counter asthmatic treatments curbs the death threat but makes him physically useless beyond moving around slowly). This time is slowed by 63% if he still has his mask but runs out of drugs.
Anyone besides himself exposed to his ‘personal concoction’ would experience a steroid-like high that would most likely end in a heart attack.

Voice of the Soul

Death

REQ.

VIS.

да нет, наверное [da net, navernoye]

Grew up in Moldova. Worked in a chemical plant for the first part of his life. Experienced lung damage and neurochemical imbalances from working in the ‘vats’, a factory supplying military chems. Company-funded cybernetics replaced his lungs and esophagus as compensation. And although 2077 USSR has some of the best medical science in the world, nothing compromises the production of military support. Pollution and workers rights being one of the many sacrifices. Finding out post op that his body disagreed with implants, and having contracted a novel form of Black Lung, Zakhar now has a compromised immune system and severe asthma. No amount of modern chrome is able to completely curb his condition due to biocompatibility issues and neurological impairments caused by the toxins. Was prescribed bronchodilators and anti-inflammatory drugs to avoid acute respiratory failure. Kept him wheezing.

Was fired after making complaints, nearly imprisoned for it. Tried to find someone who could replace his lungs without killing him for a few years but was largely unsuccessful. Connected the Organiskaya for help. They moved him to the US to look for more options and work as their freeagent. Got into medicine to solve his own problems. Started working as a ‘under the counter’ Medtech in chem factories to keep other people from experiencing what he did.

Currently working as a riot supplier. Willing to help anyone who pays, via eddies or favors, or obtains a workplace injury. And if they pull on his heartstrings well enough.
Actively connected with the Organiskaya and the underground drug trade. Makes some himself as a side gig. Constantly updating his mask and the drugs he manufactures.

Personality

Callous and indifferent unless you've proven difficult to get rid of.
Friend for life if you make it that far.

Loathes Corpos. Generally dislikes people, bit of a rabble rouser for that reason (“Murder is ok”).

Better Pharmacist than Ripperdoc. But he can do the basics. Doles out recreational drugs occasionally to make some eddies, but specializes in mixing aerosols.

Quirks

Fairly superstitious.

Relationships

Has a sister back home, everyone else he hasn't seen in decades.
Pawel Krupnik STRIGOI is a regular client.
Helped Osca back in the day, she tweaked his rig as repayment. Friends/Mutuals.
Siegfried ‘Sigi’ Koning is his courier.

HIST.

PERS.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[SomebodyElse]

Theme:

Image:


Name: Dina Sansarita

Alias(s): Jet

Age: 23

Role: Media

Date of Birth: August 6th, 2055

Ethnicity: 3/4 Caucasian, 1/4 Hispanic

Nationality: American

Occupation: News Journalist, Paid Driver/Assassin, Edgerunner

Place of Residence: Apartment in Heywood

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: Bi-sexual

Stats:
Intelligence - 5
Reflexes - 5
Cool - 5
Technical Ability -5
Charisma - 5
Agility - 5
Empathy - 5
Body - 5

Appearance

Height: 5'8

Weight: 130

Hair Color: Black with blonde streaks

Eye Color: Orange

Appearance: a toned but scrawny brunette with tattoos, she gives off the appearance of a tough goth girl who gets into a lot of trouble.

Lifepath
Personality: Dina is pretty quick to simply say f'it and throw hands. She has an incredibly dark and sarcastic sense of humor. She sees lots of things as pointless and simply likes to have fun and make fun of situations. She doesn't have a ton of patience and will start a fight with anyone that tries to mess with her. In her view she lives a pretty meaningless life working for a news conglomerate, and her typical entry level job is quite tiring.

Backstory: A Street orphan that eventually got taken in by the Valentinos, she was known to get into fights in local fight clubs as a kid, eventually one of the Valentinos took notice of her skills and took her into the Valentinos. She worked for them for awhile, making quite the name for herself after completing various jobs, although it was good money she eventually became disillusioned with the Valentinos when they ditched her on a job. She was left having to fight her way out of a rival gang's hideout by herself. From then on she left the Valentinos and decided to make her own path as a news journalist.
She would grow to hate the job as a news journalist because they would decline to publish many stories she had written that addressed the real problems of Night City. They often deemed them as too controversial. She secretly is a Hitman/Driver, known as "Jet" to the underworld.

Relationships:
Valentinos - Disillusioned but still they respect her and her decision, could potentially pull in some favors from them.

Gear
Equipment:
Typical Sniper Rifle with Scope

Cyberware: (Only one piece of cyberware per slot unless it's something that can come in pairs like cyberlegs, arms, eyes etc. Cyberware that is just there for flavor or cosmetic purposes won't count against this list.)
OS - Biotech MK1
Neural -
Optical - Kiroshi Stalker Optics
Respiratory -
Circulatory -
Nervous - Visual Cortex Support
Dermal -
Skeleton -
Hands - Shock Absorber
Arms -
Legs -
Feet -

 

[Slowpokie]

Theme:


Image:


Name: Celin Jo Holiday
Alias(s): Powder Peechy
Age: 25
Role: Rockerboy (song & performance artistry)
Date of Birth: 03/03/2052
Ethnicity: Polynesian/Latino
Nationality: American
Occupation: Braindance tech
Place of Residence: Watson, Night City
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation:

• Appearance
• Stats
• Personality
• Backstory
• Relationships
• Gear

• 
  Height: 5’8
  Weight: 166
  Hair Color: Blonde-peach (dyed)
  Eye Color: Orange (optics)
  Appearance:
  An appearance derived from the plastic doll look of the Mox and an inspired ‘Gyaru’ makeup style, Powder’s most striking feature is his eyes, consisting of multiple layers of eyelashes, white concealer, black eyeliner, and orange optics to give the illusion of larger eyes.
  He has short hair dyed blonde that fades into a deep peach orange, and brown skin.
  
  Powder wears a large yellow coat that hangs off the side of his shoulder, with orange fluff alongside the zipper. Beneath the coat is a simple pair of shorts with neon pink boots.
  
• 
  Intelligence - 3
  Reflexes - 3
  Cool - 3
  Technical Ability - 7
  Charisma - 7
  Agility - 3
  Empathy - 8
  Body - 6
  
• 
  Powder is a dreamer with his heart on his sleeves. Gentle, soft-spoken, and unfortunately naive, he walks through life entirely on emotional impulse, believing it all to be a part of some greater spiritual plan the universe has set out for him.
  
  Although he projects a mellow attitude, he can get overly emotional very quickly and easily. He's extremely soft hearted and ill-suited for the rough exterior Night City has. But he never gives in, just wipes his eyes and keeps pushing forward.
  
• 
  Powder Peechy, born Celin Jo Luv, is the son of Lorna Luv, a legendary Rockergirl and founding member of what would become the Mox.
  During the riots of the late 2060s following the death of Elizabeth Borden, she personally led several huge attacks on Tyger Claw-owned businesses throughout Night City, all while drowning out the sounds of violence with her ballads.
  Following the end of the riots, her music skyrocketed into success, and Lorna used it to put the newly rebuilt Lizzie's Bar on the map as an exotic club.
  Eventually, Lorna left Night City to take on the road, leaving Powder in the care of the Moxes who'd regarded her as ‘their princess’.
  
  Powder spent his teenage years in or around Lizzie's Bar, where he bonded with various members of the gang. In the absence of a mother, the Mox became a family to him.
  But he wouldn't officially join them until much later, when he made himself useful by becoming an apprentice for their braindance techie.
  Powder had a keen eye for detail and bringing out the best in a virtu, with several of his products being bestsellers in the bar. He had a gift that could not be disputed, and a successful career as a BD editor was all but guaranteed for him.
  
  But tweaking virtual thrills forever was something Powder didn't desire to do. His passions lied in music, a trait he inherited from his absentee mother. And with his music, he sought to reach out and enrich whatever soul and heart Night City had left.
  But unlike his mother who launched into the spotlight, Powder's music only had an extremely niche audience he built by selling his own virtues to anyone who'd buy. But it wasn't enough. If he wants his message to reach everyone in Night City, he needs to go bigger, needs to get his name out there.
  
  No matter what.
  
• 
  The Mox - Having grown up around the Mox, as well as eventually becoming their braindance tech, Pow has a very strong loyalty towards them and their ideals, to the point of being oblivious or turning a blind eye to their flaws.
  He often incorporates Mox culture into his music.
  
• 
  Equipment:
  - Double barrel shotgun
  - Grenades
  Cyberware:
  OS -
  Neural - Cyberaudio (digital recorder link.)
  Optical - Braindance recorder cybereyes Respiratory -
  Circulatory -
  Nervous -
  Dermal -
  Skeleton -
  Hands -
  Arms -
  Legs -
  Feet -
  

 

[Teh Frixz]

Theme:


Name: Amaryllis Noble

Alias(s): Amy, Burnout

Age: 18

Role: Huscle, Solo

Date of Birth: 06/04/2059

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Nationality: American

Occupation: Rimbo, Huscle, Joytoy

Place of Residence: Night City (Squatting around Arroyo)

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: Het but eddys is eddys

• Appearance
• Stats
• Personality
• Backstory
• Relationships
• Gear

• 
  
  
  Height: 5’ 9”
  
  Weight: 238lbs
  
  Hair Color: Black
  
  Eye Color: Red (Implant)
  
  
  
  Appearance:
  
  It was pure luck that Amaryllis had corpo care before getting back alley borg’d. Most of her body in excellent to prime condition due to higher than average healthcare standards and some minor genetic tweaking by Mr. and Mrs. Noble pre-birth. She’s taller, almost lanky, with an excellent figure and a higher than average metabolic rate. A cute freckled face accented by large eyes and a perfect, ‘Noble’ nose.
  
  Now, post Maelstrom, her once pale skin is an ashen grey, eyes replaced by cheap red optics, and limbs lopped off and replaced by enough implants to qualify and a variety shop. She is nearly constantly hot to the touch, smoldering heat out of hastily implanted vents, her posture terrible and walking almost crooked by the weight inside her body.
  
  Halfway to full chrome, not by choice, her body is almost mismatched, scarred by scorch makes from the occasional combustion and cheap implants jutting into one another.
  
  
• 
  
  Intelligence - 3
  
  Reflexes - 5
  
  Cool - 5
  
  Technical Ability - 3
  
  Charisma - 5
  
  Agility - 8
  
  Empathy - 3
  
  Body - 8
  
  
• 
  
  Reborn in the NC, Amaryllis has a personality to match. Due to the restrictions and constraints of her implants she essentially fluctuates between barely having a spark of life and being a raging inferno. Combined with an early diagnosis of an impulse control disorder, she’s difficult to manage. Usually prone to poor decisions and abrupt mood swings
  
  Generally spending her down time lost in drugs or BD’s, she keeps her spark going with copious amounts of food, burning through literal pounds of food, most of it wasted as it’s burned off by her overheated system.
  
  Conversely, the more she’s fed, the more she’s given room to breathe, the bigger and hotter she gets. A product of her immediate environment, she will rise to the occasion and become a party animal, live or die, no holds barred. She’ll throw herself at anything or anyone, fearless, self assured, manic, just burning anyone and anything in her way.
  
  A still burning glittergirl, she rages against her own inevitable snuffing out, a loose flame in the tinderbox that is Nightcity.
  
  
• 
  
  What do you get when you mix an impressionable glitter-girl dealing with a touch of pyromania, a poser Maelstrom input, and a whole shit load of overheating chrome? You get Amaryllis Noble. What she is now really is up for grabs. A chem head, a barely there chrome freak, a freak ass fire goose, a fumigating rimbo, whatever she is, it isn’t gonna last long but it’ll burn a mark of pain onto the city that somebody will remember.
  
  Amaryllis was born into privilege, corpo child, she had clean genes, no risk, one step off from a tube child sort of conception. In a great irony of sorts, her parents meddling around in her genes produced a perfectly healthy baby but managed to add in some quirks they never could work out.
  
  Baby Amaryllis, never wanting for anything, grew up with the best of the best in terms of teachers, therapists and everything but the little flame inside her could never be put out. Diagnosed with an Impulse Control Disorder, her parents never really understood what the issue was, and just fed the flame by trying to mask symptom rather than the root cause.
  
  As a kid she’d teeter totter back and forth between subservient and utterly defiant, peaceful then brutal. It was a constant balancing act that as she aged began to burn her out more and more. By the time she was 14, she started gaining quite the rap sheet, notoriously involved with a series of fires in a spree across Watson. Several bodegas were ashes by the time NCPD showed up to arrest the hard partying Amaryllis.
  
  In yet another misguided attempt to teach their daughter a lesson, they let her spend the night in a cell. It was here she managed to hook up with Thax, at the time, the love of her life. Rigged out in metal, leather, muscle, Thax was the maelstrom love affair she didn’t know she wanted. Turned out, he was a gutter poser, half the chrome he sported just decorative. Still had his meat optics but he looked the part.
  
  Looked less the part the fateful night when wearing colors around real hard gangers catches up with him. Maelstrom tore Thax to bits, not even enough of him left for scopheads to pick through, straight burger. He got off easy though, Amaryllis got off hard.
  
  If she wanted to act like a Maelstrom goose, she’d be one. Frying her brain so hard, they shoved in everything they could, overloading her system to the brink then slapping on thermal vents, flesh burning? Derm patch. When they were done, she was a half alive heap of scrap with a shitty back alley puppet implant tearing her brain apart.
  
  Recovery, never really happened. Parents putting up digital fliers never really found their daughter, but Amaryllis found herself. Overchromed, her corpo funded body was able to survive and adapt.
  
  Eating flames and drinking gasoline, huffing hydro, Amaryllis began chasing whatever she could to dull the pain in her body, mind, and soul. Drugs coddling her enough and only the real freaks accepting her body for payment, she needed eddies.
  
  Word came down the line and she took the shit jobs, burning her way through them in every way. Just being around her when fired up was enough to melt chrome. Enough scrap code running through her head to fry net runners and the volume of thermal damage her claws afflicting enough to turn meat into ash. Acting as something of a huscle, Amaryllis took on more and more work as her cred rose, like a living Molotov she’d throw herself into fights, ripping and burning all she could until the job was done.
  
  
• 
  
  Gregory Noble - Father
  Adrienne Noble - Mother
  Thax - Ex Input (Deceased)
  
  
  
• 
  
  Equipment:
  
  - Few crates of Thermal gel
  - Stolen clothing
  
  Cyberware:
  
  OS - Biodyne 'Beserk' ver. 1.13 Genwon
  
  Neural - Fuyutsuki Mechatronic Core (Discontinued)
  
  Optical - Kiroshi Mk 1 'Gorgon' Optical Support System (Active Recall)
  
  Respiratory - Biotech (Defunct Branch) Artificial Lungs
  
  Circulatory - Biodyne Adrenaline Booster (Overclocked/Force Boosted)
  
  Nervous - Unknown Adrenaline Converter (Indeterminate make/origin)
  
  Dermal - Seacho prototype 'Experimental' Cellular adapter (Failed prototype line)
  
  Skeleton - Epimorphic Skeleton ( Baroque/Homecast)
  
  Hands - See Arms
  
  Arms - a. Militech 'Einherjar' Limb replacement system (Mass produced combat injury replacement, outdated)
  b. Eron Industrial 'Lambent' Hazmat Manipulation Device (Jerry rigged Industrial equipment)
  Legs - Jennken Tendon System (Knock off Jenkins Tendon, prone to overheating unsanctioned by health services)
  
  Feet - See Legs
  
  

 

[americanCaeser]

Theme:


Image:

Name: Michael Smith

Alias(s): N/A

Age: 25

Role: Nomad, Good Samaritan

Date of Birth: May 10th, 2053

Ethnicity: White Caucasian

Nationality: American, Northern Rocky Mountains

Occupation: Member of Good Shepherd Commune (MT),

Place of Residence: Good Shepherd Commune (MT)

Gender: Male

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

• Stats:
• Appearance:
• Lifepath:
• Gear

• 
  Intelligence - 3
  Reflexes - 4
  Cool - 7
  Technical Ability - 3
  Charisma - 7
  Agility - 4
  Empathy - 8
  Body - 4
  
• 
  Height: 5' 11"
  
  Weight: 180~ lbs
  
  Hair Color: Brown
  
  Eye Color: Chestnut Brown
  
  Appearance: Michael is a man of average build with a little bit of height. He wears simple, practical clothing that have no brand on them (in fact, they look almost hand made). He wears a long coat over a leather jacket, button up shirt and t-shirt, pants, and a pair of boots. He has short brown hair, brown eyes, and wears a pair of simple but modern looking glasses. He wears a shoulder holster under his left arm under his coat for concealment, though its made of leather rather than a more modern nylon one.
  
• 
  Personality: Michael is a kind, patient, and considerate old soul. He is a firm believer in the word of the Savior, and does his best to live up to those standards as well as impart those beliefs on others. He always tries to maintain an optimistic view on life, understanding that the world is filled with sin and evil, but also virtue and good as well. This attitude extends to others, and his deeply empathetic soul means he always tries to see the good in people and help them as best he can. Of course, this also means he has a near borderline naivety regarding people, and is willing to give anyone, even those who may not deserve it, the benefit of the doubt.
  
  Michael is also a complete fish out of water in Night City. The sheer amount of filth, lust, greed, degeneracy, and debauchery makes for a harsh culture shock for the sheltered man. The cybernetics so many people in Night City display are dizzying and leaves Michael feeling the odd one out. It is a modern Sodom and Gamorrah, a nation within a jungle of concrete, steel, and damned souls. But despite the insanity and sheer level of selfish indifference, Michael is left amazed. For all its faults, it is a shining gem of human accomplishment. What wonders they could make, what heights they could achieve! All in all, Michael is a man who is a firm idealist who believes in the human capability to do the right thing. Evil does exist in his book, but it is an evil that good always triumphs over, with an open hand of friendship instead of the cold steel sword.
  
  Backstory: The Good Shepherd Commune was once an effort by numerous extremist Christian cults to establish a 'pure' home of true believers away from the decaying and immoral carcass of the United States. Establishing themselves in Western Montana, this effort would actually succeed to a degree as the new Commune would become a self sufficient and well defended island of stability in the turmoil of the collapse of the United States. However, as the years went by and generations passed, this Commune lost its fanatical edge. Selfish cultists were replaced by devout worshippers and grifting demagogues by pious priests. The Good Shepherd Commune enjoyed a peace in relative isolation, trading with surrounding communities and hosting weary travelers. A European author traveling the Pacific Northwest would call them 'Solid proof that there is such a thing as a good Christian'.
  
  It was this community Michael and Gabriel Smith would be born into. Michael was the younger brother, their mother being one of the well respected leaders of the Commune and their father being a teacher. Michael was quickly noted to be a kind and empathetic child and went out of his way to help out wherever he could, and loved hearing stories from the Bible. Gabriel, meanwhile, was more rambunctious, preferring to play with his friends and explore the Commune. As they grew up, Michael more and more became the model Christian, praying fervently and living by the laws of God as best he can. As Michael fit in, Gabriel looked further and further afield. Soon he made clear his intentions to travel beyond the borders of Montana to see America, and he bid his family and brother goodbye.
  
  Michael missed his brother dearly. Despite their differences, they were as thick as thieves, with Gabriel pushing Michael to do more and Michael tempering his brothers antics and temper. He waited for every message, every letter with baited breath and spoke highly of his 'adventurous brother' whenever he could to any who would listen. Then one day, the letters stopped coming. The day Gabriel should have returned did not come. It was as if he simply... ceased to exist. But Michael would not have it.
  
  Against the advice of his friends and family, Michael too set forth from the Compound and traveled in the footsteps of his brother. Following a paper trail of old letters, connecting the dots on maps, and word of mouth, Michael has traveled far from his home in distant Montana. Now he finds himself entering a City more vast than anything he had ever conceived of before, a haystack so massive that he could spend a life time combing through it and still have so much work to do, all to find one singular needle that may not even be there anymore. Yet it is a task he must do, after all...
  
  We can't expect God to do all the work.
  
  Relationships:
  - Gabriel 'Gabe' Smith: Michael's older brother by two years. He left the Commune some three years ago to 'see the world' and spread the good word of the Lord. However, one day the letters stopped coming in and the time Gabe was supposed to return came and went. Many assumed the vicious world consumed yet another good soul, but Michael would not give up on his brother so easily. In a pilgrimage of his own, Michael has followed Gabe's trail south from the untouched wilds of Montana. Now he finds himself at the end of that trail, a truly alien world that the rural son could hardly fathom, an almost mythical land that swallowed his dear brother whole; The City of Night.
  
  - The Good Shepherd Commune: Originally established in the 90's as a cult compound for a massive conglomeration of radical Christian groups, the Good Shepherd Commune has amazingly survived the collapse of the old America and has spent generations not just surviving, but thriving. Time saw their darker and more twisted members and beliefs fade away as the Commune entered a sort of stasis and Zen in the near forgotten shadow of the Rockies. Near self-sufficient, Good Shepherd trades its excess with the produce of surrounding settlements and all are equal before the gaze of the Almighty. Michael was actually poised to become ordained as one of the Communes priests when his brother went missing and he left to go find him.
  
• 
  Equipment:
  - Duffel Bag (Military Issue, 1990's)
  - Two sets of extra clothes
  - Toiletries
  - 1 Old, Worn, but Well-Cared for and authentic St. James Bible
  - M1911 pistol and several magazines, with two boxes of ammo (1 half empty)
  - Hand-Crafted Leather shoulder-holster and rig
  - Maps and leaflets from various western states and regions
  - U.S. Military Canteen
  - 1 Battered Survivalist Book, pages doggy-eared and with many colored paper tabs
  - 1 Worn Cotton Blanket, 1 Linen Blanket
  - 1 Roll of Eddies, bag of silver coins
  - Letters from 'Gabe' Smith
  
  Cyberware: N/A
  

 

[ThatGuyWithSouvlaki]

Theme:

Image:

Name: Anastasia Paparizou

Alias(s): Anibelle

Age: 29

Role: Techie/Nomad (somewhat)

Date of Birth: May 28th, 2048

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Nationality: Greek/American

Occupation: Joytoy (formally), Actress, Smuggler, Solo

Place of Residence: Nomad camp outside city, local motels

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: Bi-sexual

Stats:
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Intelligence

4
Reflexes
6
Cool
7
Technical Ability
6
Charisma
6
Agility
5
Empathy
2
Body
4

Appearance

Height: 5'7

Weight: 120

Hair Color: Black with red streaks

Eye Color: hazzle

Appearance: She is toned with a curvy body with currently a tanned skin with various tattoos relating to generic nomad subjects e.g cars and rattlesnakes throughout her body. Eyes are particularly notable of their hazel colour and sparkle. Several scars and cuts from her time as both a joytoy and mercenary from her body. She usually wears jeans, tank tops and a leather jacket in her current nomad role but has an estensive wardrobe for various roles

Lifepath
Personality:
A bit of a social chameleon, adjust her personality and manner down to her accent and tone. This is a bad habit born from her days as both a joytoy and later actor, doing it so much that she barely knows what she is truly like and what is something she instinctively put on to please the people she is around. Recently she had put the air of a nomad cowgirl; tough, taciturn with a quiet confident calm and a sardonic sense of humour and do everything herself attitude which she affected as part of her training for a future role. She can also be cold and maybe a little bloodthirsty, seemingly taking some joy showing off her gunslinger skill to take down opponents and showing little issue with taking a life. Often considering what she is doing as part of practising her craft than actually doing some serious work. She can also be a vain, taking great pains with her appearance, making sure both look appropriate and also looks good.

Despite all this, she is loyal and protective to those who she grows to respect and care for. She shows some care in those in need and has a soft spot for dolls and joytoys coming once from their world. She is also having a hatred for corpos despite willing to work for them knowing that is the only practical thing one can do in her business. She would not say now to messing with corpos if it won't affect her own image and standing.

Backstory:
Anastasia was born to Solo and a local proprietress of a diner in the Rancho Coronado. The solo passed away on a job not long after her birth, so she was raised in poverty. Her mother could barely make ends meet running a diner while taking care of a small child. Especially, as the diner was constantly beset by 6th Street, looking for payment and taking it in various ways. When she was fourteen, she was helping out in the dinner when an accident caused her to drop plates of food on to one of the gangsters. The angered gangster attempted to beat Anastasia, her mother intervened and got shot in the process for her troubles. The gangster went to continue the punishment of the young Anastasia but the shot got the attention of the police and the gangsters ran.

Anastasia barely had a chance to recover from the loss of her mother before she was taken by the police to a corpo ran orphanage, who used her and other children as slave labour and recruitment pool for their armies. Conditioned were terrible and she received constant abuse. The only pleasure she found was in the semiregular movie night the orphanage held to keep the children pacified. She dreamed of being off the great action heroes of the films especially cowboy like ones with revolvers. She spend only two years there before she decided to run and began living in the streets getting by anywhere she could that included becoming a joytoy.

Her beauty made her quite popular, eventually getting the attention of richer and richer clients. She also learned to charm and act with the clients to get the most out of them including stealing whatever they had on them. One of her clients turned out to be a corpo from film studio who fell for her and was quickly persuade her from taking a minor role in a film. She loved the experienced and worked to get more roles. Gradually her star rose, getting larger and larger roles and gaining more fame, even considered taking a role in an up-and-coming Bushido film but was brushed aside for the director's favourite. However, she found another role that would make her career. "Road to Revenge", an action flick with the Nomad Heroine goes on quest for revenge against gang who killed her clan. It was a dream role, one she took great pain and any influence she had to gain the leading role.

She keen on it she went all out in preparing for it going full method and getting implants to make sure to be as close to the vision of the character as possible. Beyond that, she was able to use her connection to live among the local Nomad clan, getting to know their ways. Nomads took her in reluctantly, seeing her as a rich poser, but slowly she earned her place. She even began to like their way of life and their views of family, earning her respect in turn. From them, she learned some tech skill, how to shoot among other skills. Eventually she was allowed to take part in their operations, including smuggling items into night city and taking the odd role as a mercenary.
Relationships:
TBD

Gear
Equipment: Dual DR-5 Novas, throwing knives,

Cyberware:
OS -
Neural -
Optical - Kiroshi Stalker Optics
Respiratory - Voice modulator (allows for various accents)
Circulatory -
Nervous - Kerenzikov
Dermal - Actor's Skin (allows adjustment of a person skin for one's role, including adding tattoos or change her skin tone)
Skeleton - spring joints
Hands - Ballistic Coprocessor
Arms - Gorilla arms
Legs - Jenkins' Tendons
Feet -




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