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Cyberpunk: Cascadia (Open|OOC)

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Anowa
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 16984
Founded: Jul 29, 2014
Left-wing Utopia

Cyberpunk: Cascadia (Open|OOC)

Postby Anowa » Thu Feb 04, 2021 8:46 pm

Image
>>IC<<


The Pacific Northwest has always had a unique history when compared to other regions of North America. It's colonization period of the early 1830s was wracked with hazardous journeys and administrative confusion. In the late 1800s, the former territory known as Cascadia became parts of Oregon and Washington, parts of Idaho, Montana, Nevada, North California, Utah, Wyoming, Yukon and Alaska. A bioregion separated by two national borders and nearly a dozen state lines.

In the 1900s, three major cities formed around the Salish Sea: Seattle, Vancouver, and Victoria. These cities would continue growing until the 2020s, when the Night City Holocaust caused a boom in traffic into and out of the region, seen as a safer alternative to night city by many smaller corporations not wholly deadset on planting their capitalist flags in the California city. In the 2030s and 40s the three cities slowly but surely ended up becoming a single megalopolis, rivaling even Night City, a reconstructed LA, or New York. While the individual cities are still known by their names, Cascadia is usually referred to when speaking of the greater area of those three cities. Yet it's become the administrative nightmare it once was in the 1800s.

The city became a special economic administrative zone, not wholly controlled by either the NUSA or Canada, but with a national border still running through it, nothing more than signs and a neon blue line denoting it; and a single mayor and city council. The city remains a popular destination for corporations despite the reconstruction of Night City, primarily due to the Canada half having positive relations with the European Economic Community, and thus less legally stifling trade and patent paperwork, and the NUSA half having the more lax laws and regulations allowing the corporations to do what they need to in the name of profit. This all preventing a collapse that left the rust belt in ruins. Yet the city is not without flaws.

The year is 2078, Cascadia is a rainy, depressing, and undecorated urban sprawl rivaling those in China. Neon eyesores and advertisements decorate nearly every square foot of outside space, and the same mayor has been re-elected for the last 7 elections with a 75% majority in every single one. It's corrupt, it's a discount of a much more legendary city, and it's about twice as polluted (although that last one has efforts to fix it). Though the region is still a hive for those who want to make a name for themselves without competing with the notoriety of legends of Night City.

For those who want to simply make a fortune, luck has it that the International Electronic Corporation has lost a biometrically locked container thanks to the efforts of a few now dead chooms. The container, filled with anything from Nazi gold to the secret to immortality is still at large, and a lot of people are looking for it. Whatever it is, it'll fetch a pretty penny.

Welcome to Cascadia.

Cyberpunk Cascadia is an RP that is to take place in the same timeline/universe as Cyberpunk 2013, Cyberpunk 2020, Cyberpunk RED, and Cyberpunk 2077. Not Firestorm or v3.0 though, those have been declared many things, including cancerous, unaesthetic, and yucky (but you probably already knew that). You, the player, are to take the role of a denizen of the city of Cascadia, a city that formed after the greater areas of Vancouver, Victoria, and Seattle all ended up merging into a single conglomerate wrapping around the Salish Sea over 50 years. Playing as either an independent mercenary, a crooked cop, some obscure media, a netrunner, or some gonk in a gang. Speaking of gangs, there's a few in Cascadia, both familiar, and some not:

Rising Star Triad: Following the absolute destruction of Hong Kong and it's indefinite uninhabitability, a majority of the Hong Kong Triads were forced to find a new home. For Rising Star, this home was Cascadia, a comparatively recent establishment in the city, they have nonetheless managed to obtain and hold their foot in the door of the city. They mostly involve themselves in running illegal gambling rings, racketeering, and other financial crimes.


Inagawa-kai (Yakuza): The local branch of Inagawa-kai family has been in the area for a long time. It wasn't until the late 2020s where they started making themselves distinctly known in the city. They tend to have some actual positive PR, as they operate in areas US cops won't, giving them a rather unexpected role as local law enforcement... at least against folks that mess with their business. Said business includes drug and human trafficking and financial crimes, it's also rumored they have some hefty connections to Arasaka.


Victoria Bratva (Soviet Mob): A sect of the Soviet Mafia, it's membership has a lot of ties across the sea to Vladivostok. Somewhat disorganized and more focused on turning profit than actually controlling tracts of land, they tend to stick around their small port section of Richmond and it's surrounding areas. Though just because they don't have any more territory doesn't mean they can't get it. Their primary means of business are weapons trafficking and, somewhat ironically, legitimate businesses as a cover for their arms trafficking. Most weapons in the city have come from them.


The Silver Slash (Silvers): The Silver Slash were a gang that originated in Night City back in the late 2010s, an origin in which has largely been forgotten to time. A guardian gang, their MO isn't crime, but rather preventing it. While not officially sanctioned, neither the local PDs nor the RCMP or FBI are too concerned with them, namely because their presence in the city helps protect some areas so they can focus on more serious things. Unlike most gangs, they're pretty all inclusive and wholly subsidized by local businesses looking for protection. That being said, don't think that because they wear a rather flamboyant uniform doesn't mean they can't kick your ass. Typically found around hospitals, small businesses and the independent clubs in the city.


The Aldecaldos: A group of one of the Seven Nomad Nations, the Aldecaldos are primarily based in the badlands of Northern California and Nevada however, the Nomad nation has various cells/families up and down the west coast of North America, constituting it's number of almost 10,000 members. That being said, the family in Cascadia is comparatively small, numbering a few hundred. No one tried to start fights with them, namely because they have the capacity to wipe out any gang that throws the first punch. Not too concentrated in any specific spot (except a small camp North of Mt. Rainer), they'll be found working as Farmers in Delta, or in Seattles various protein farms. Either that or as smugglers or dealers, has some binding relations with the Bratva on account of being an alternative source to buying small arms.


Red Chrome Legion (Legion): Skinheads, and not the British punk kind, rather the kind that will burn a cross on your lawn or hang you from one of the few remaining trees if they think you're what they call 'sub-human'. Neo-nazis in every sense of the term, except now with heavy armaments, armor, and a scapegoat in the form of the still mystery riddled Night City Holocaust. Their number has grown enough since 2020 that they've expanded to pretty much every city along America's west coast. The Red Chrome Legion typically wears red chrome plated cybernetics, and when applicable, usually a right shoulder pad on whatever armor they wear. Most have identifying tattoos in the form of stylized swathes of red ink. They have no concentrated territory, but nonetheless are hated by every other gang in the city.


Of course, with these gangs, there's also individuals you'd need to contact to actually put you into contact with most of them. Because simply walking up to a group of gangers on the street and asking for a job is likely to end poorly. These folks are called fixers, and in most cases are untouchable by the independent mercs in the city, mainly because killing the people who give you a job is a good way to become a statistic. So lets go down the list:

Aleksandr Talitsyn: A Russian exotic from Vladivostok, he is wanted in the USSR for a string of bank robberies and murders. Arriving in Cascadia some 12 years ago, he has since managed to make connections with nearly every organized crime group in Cascadia, a feat that, after obtaining a club in a jacked up poker game, has made him the go to mediator. With his club 'Velvet Staircase' in Vancouver acting as a staunch neutral ground. An amiable sort, he can usually be found behind the bar or in his office.


Kakashi Kiryu: A former lieutenant in the Yakuza, Mr. Kiryu is a native to Seattle, rather than a Japanese national, an oddity given his former position, an even greater oddity considering he managed to officially retire from a high ranking organized crime position. Surprisingly calm, and notably dry in humor, Mr. Kiryu can typically be found in a web cafe he runs in Seattle's Japantown, a legitimate business he started with his wife to maintain his wealth. He's also blind, so try not to toss anything at him without announcing it.


William Henderson: A fish boat captain and former Nomad, he left the wandering lifestyle on good terms, settling down in Victoria as a fisherman rather than taking odd jobs. An eccentric fellow, his pirate themed way of speaking and dressing tends to turn most people off immediately, but somehow he manages to maintain a steady level of contact with folks all across the city.


Harry Gaylord: Harry has been a long time resident of the greater Vancouver area for about 70 years now. He's been involved in almost every part of organized crime there is, and has been an associate for nearly every criminal gang to come and go through the area over the years. His jobs are usually exclusive and high paying, and typically involve actions with a very small margin of error. If you manage to end up on his list, it means you've made it somewhere. Just don't try to find him, he finds you instead. Just whatever you do, don't laugh.


Marcus Smith Marcus Smith owns the 'Grunge Wheel' in Seattle, a lazrge and rather well performing Casino. A boisterous, rotund and jovial man, his outward facade can very quickly change if you cause trouble in his casino. Most of his jobs involve personal disputes and debt collection, but they pay decently. Though every so often a gem rolls into his cage and he sends someone to deal with a break to the monotony.


Of course, outside of these individuals, you may be contacted by any number of folks specifically for certain jobs, and remember, bringing some backup certainly helps in some situations and on some jobs. Best to make more friends than enemies.
  • Decisions
    My word and the word of anyone I appoint as a Co-OP (yes, there will be co-ops) is binding. If you don’t like a decision, you can, of course, ask for us to reconsider it. Once. If we made a decision you don’t like, complaining for pages and pages is not going to endear you to anyone. Not me, not the Co-OPs and not your fellow writers.
    On that note, my word won't necessarily overrule the word of the Co-OPs.
  • Post Quality
    While I typically don't care too much about short posts, please put the effort in to have proper spelling, and grammar. Ideally, try and get more than a sentence in. If the whole of your post is "John Wayne scheduled a cigarette commercial." don't be surprised if no one responds to you.
  • Posting
    Nothing is worse than making an RP only for it to die. Please try to make at least one post every 48 hours or so. If you find yourself unable to post, please let me know in the OOC thread. If it looks like you've abandoned a character in the middle of a fight scene I might decide to kill them off... I'm kidding... maybe.
    On the other hand, a page and a half of IC in a few hours, is close to too much to handle for a number of people, especially if the pace continues as they try to post. Try and keep a happy medium of not too fast but not too slow in terms of thread activity, at least IC wise, blow the OOC up if you want.
  • OOC/IC Etiquette
    Remember the Golden Rule: don't be a knob. Attitude classed as passive aggressive, rude, outwardly antagonistic, uncooperative, or otherwise rude behaviour will not fly in this thread, period. ICly, be the character you want, say whatever, do whatever, but remember to disconnect between character conflict and IRL conflict. A single outburst is not damning for thread participation, but if it continues into multiple events, you will be removed from this thread.

    IC wise, so long as you aren't soloing everything in your path without harm, you should be good to go, remember, failure is the greatest method of character development.
  • Character Death
    It happens, no one likes it, no one may particularly want it, but there are times where it's unavoidable. Remember, death is the second greatest method of character development. And besides, if there wasn't a chance for them to not actually be dead, it'll probably happen. So long as no one finds a body.
  • Keep if PG-13
    This is a given, site rules dictate this. My disappointment will reach untold levels if the Mods roll up like a Chilean Army helicopter.
This is the box in which I put questions that are asked a lot, or which are probably a good idea to put here, almost as if this is a box for Frequently Asked Questions. Who'd've thought that?
  • Empty at the moment, because no questions have been asked yet which fit the criteria.
  • Full Borgs are acceptable, just make sure they aren't a Dragoon or something notably illegal for a comparatively normal person.
  • Exotics are also acceptable, just don't make it weird.
  • The world's your oyster otherwise, use whatever character you want, the 2020 Sourcebook even says "The story is more important than the fighting" ...unless it's blatantly overpowered or powergamey.
Code: Select all
[box]
[list][b] Name:[/b]
[b]Aliases:[/b] (What they go by when on the job)
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Appearance:[/b] [spoiler](A picture or description, you don't have to get obscenely descriptive, but at least make sure you get the mental image across)[/spoiler]
[b]Goals:[/b] (What is your character aiming to do?)
[b]Cyberware/Bioware:[/b] (What sort of chrome they have?)
[b]Equipment[/b]: (Whatever they may have stuffed into their pockets or waist bands on a normal day)
[b]Job[/b]: (Are they a Techie? Media? Solo?)
[b]Backstory[/b]: (Their life story)
[b]DO NOT REMOVE:[/b] 2183
 [/list][/box]
Last edited by Anowa on Tue Mar 02, 2021 11:10 pm, edited 7 times in total.
Awards:
Tie Winner: Most Involved in P2TM, 2016
Winner: Best Crime RP, 2016

An Intro to Anowa

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Anowa
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 16984
Founded: Jul 29, 2014
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Anowa » Thu Feb 04, 2021 8:47 pm

reserved
Awards:
Tie Winner: Most Involved in P2TM, 2016
Winner: Best Crime RP, 2016

An Intro to Anowa

User avatar
Transoxthraxia
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 22055
Founded: Jan 19, 2013
Benevolent Dictatorship

Application

Postby Transoxthraxia » Thu Feb 04, 2021 8:52 pm

Name: Cassiana Maeve O'Rourke
Aliases: "Red Guard" professionally, "O'Rourke" by her former comrades in CommPar, "Cass" by friends who want to get under her skin, and "Maevy" by her long-dead brother.
Gender: Female
Age: 28
Appearance:
Image
Standing at exactly five feet eight inches and weighing one hundred and thirty five pounds, almost none of that - three pounds of the brain to be exact - is human. Red Guard's entire body is composed of various parts and synthetic organs that are mostly standardised in an analogous system to Raven Microcybernetic's Gemini product, albeit with the caveat that most of her tech is either aftermarket, blackmarket, or both. However, with every job she closes, she undergoes an operation or two to get closer to standardisation - and thus avoid the complications that may occur when a full-body conversion isn't standardised. Instead of standard ExoDerm skin, however, she orders a pricey, specialised flexible type of chrome-like metal that gives her the appearance of being a living, breathing, metallic being. Being quite expensive, she tends to be frustrated when the metal is damaged - even a small scratch can set her off. However, she asked her ripperdoc to include a trio of notches above her left eye as a sort of tattoo - to represent her parents and brother.

She also has Techhair and cycles through a number of sets that range from bright red, bone white, deep purple, and even royal blue depending on her mood, the perceived tone of an event that she's attending, or even the day of the week or time of the day. Her most common-worn hair is the one pictured.

Overtop of her chrome exterior, Cassiana has a number of different "tattoos" that betray her identity as a "communist". Most notably she has a hammer and sickle imprinted on her left collarbone, which is usually the most visible mark. She also has a red star on her left hip.

Goals: Since arriving in Cascadia, O'Rourke and her Red Army Faction have slowly been growing apart from one another and their original mission. The RAF was formed as a necessity and a desire - a desire to liberate the people from corporate tyranny, and the necessity of survival following their exile from CommPar. However, revolutionary idealism soon gave way to pragmatism. The members needed money for places to live and food to eat. As more money was made, the RAF became a microcosm of CommPar, and O'Rourke's group slowly and unceremoniously evaporated. O'Rourke still nominally believes in the struggle against corporate dominance, but her ideals often come second to her desires and "needs" - including the newest fashions, trends, and tech. A sizable amount of subconscious guilt has slowly begun to build up as a result of this. So, in short, her goals are nominally the destruction of the corporate system and the creation of an equal society for all, but de facto are most about the pursuit of profit and the maintenance of her lifestyle.
Cyberware/Bioware:
  • A jury-rigged version of the R.M.C Gemini full body conversion set. This effectively has removed her brain from her human body and put it into a robotic shell that is then designed to appear like a human body. She initially had to assemble the parts from a number of different sources, meaning that there is occasional unreliability and her software is unable to be updated past a certain point. She is currently working on saving up for a second, complete R.M.C Gemini, so that she can be transplanted into that.
  • Some assorted cyberware associated with her R.M.C Gemini full body conversion. This includes things like synthetic lungs to simulate breathing, and a synthetic digestive system so that she can eat and drink things, but not process them.
  • Metallic chrome body plating. When receiving her full body conversion, O'Rourke opted instead of synthetic skin to get metallic chrome plating across her new robotic body instead.
  • XM-02 "Liberator" Cyberdeck. A homebrewed cellular cyberdeck built and paid for by CommPar's blood money, Liberator was constructed in part by, but mostly for, O'Rourke during her time as the lead of CommPar's cyber division. With twenty memory units and speed to match the best NetWatch has to offer and data walls that would put most independent netrunners to shame. One of a kind, and of a surprisingly high manufacturing quality, it's Red Guard's most beloved implant, and the one that, along with her body, she is continuously trying to improve.
  • Self-ICE. Basically a failsafe ICE program that automatically gets tripped, alerting O'Rourke and scrambling to protect her in the case that a netrunner tries to get into her system. It's a self-contained unit independent of her system's other ICE, meaning that it's akin to spaced armour, or a shield, being the first line of defense against a would-be net-intruder.
  • Kiroshi Optics Basic Eye Module. She's had a number of modifications put into her cyberoptics, including LowLite(tm) vision, Anti-Dazzle, and a small Video Camera.
  • An extendable 12-inch blade in her right palm.
  • Subdermal Armour. While her metal plating is, well, metal, it's still relatively thin. This armour is meant to reinforce the plating and protect all of the wiring and electronics beneath it.
  • Audio Homing Tracer. This allows O'Rourke to follow an audio source that's been marked by the tracer as far as one kilometer away.
  • DataTerm Link. O'Rourke can interface with DataTerms and download any data on them.
  • Built-in Translation Software. O'Rourke can hear most common languages that aren't English and have them translated for her.
Equipment: The equipment that she's packing does depend on the day and what she's doing. If she's on a job, she'll usually have with her:
  • H&K Majestic-12. Her prized possession - the rare Majestic-12 fires like a dream, but is expensive and hard to get your hands on. O'Rourke keeps hers with her almost always.
  • A book-sized printer that she can interface with to print off important documents.
  • A hand-held scanner, that allows physical items to be scanned into digital images and for digital images to be displayed.
  • A number of chips that store various programs that she has.
  • Various "hard" tools to get into places that her hacking programs wouldn't otherwise be able to, and to maintain some of her own external cyberware.
Job: Independent mercenary & netrunner in Cascadia.
Backstory:
Born in 2050 and raised in the megacity that was once Chicago, Illinois, to parents of Irish-American descent, Cassiana's childhood memories feature heavily her family's slowly-disappearing middle class lifestyle. Both her parents worked for Zetatech, whose Chicago division became increasingly demanding of the pair following their competition with other firms, especially Fuyutsuki, for the domination of the local tech market. Since her parents were always either working ten or twelve hour days or sleeping, she was mostly raised by her older brother of two years, Nicholas, who would walk with her to school, make her meals, and help her with her homework.

The dream of a comfortable, middle-class lifestyle would ultimately be impossible to maintain for the O'Rourkes, however. By the time that Cassiana was ten, her father began developing a rare form of adrenal cancer as a result of poor-quality implants that he had willingly received to improve his job performance. Instead of doling out the money required for his treatments, Zetatech opted to furlough him instead, slashing his benefits and his only source of income. In response, Cassiana's mother took on increasing responsibilities in the company in a bid to earn more income to treat her husband's illness. Even Nicholas, twelve at the time, looked for odd jobs in between school and homework.

As her father's illness progressed, her mother buried herself in work for Zetatech. Becoming increasingly desperate for money, she signed up to test an experimental version of ZetaTech's BodyComp. During this time, both Nicholas and Cassiana became affiliated with CommPar, a local gang which had its roots in the old Chicago labour movement but had been forced into underground crime to sustain itself. Both children would work as mules and message-bearers for the gang until Nick was officially made a full member when he was sixteen.

Shortly after this their father finally died, and not a week after his death, Zetatech fired their mother as a part of a purge related to an assault made by CommPar on a Zetatech installation. Knowing that her children were affiliated with CommPar, they severed their ties with her and the family and went so far as to temporarily kidnap Cassiana's mother so they could forcefully removing the prototype BodyComp they had implanted some years earlier. Cast out, deprived of her husband and her source of income, and with two children that needed care, their mother gradually succumbed to cyberpsychosis, partially as a result of the stress, and partially due to the large amount of implants that she had received to maintain and advance her career in Zetatech.

The two teens struggled to take care of their mother, whose condition worsened despite the pricey medicine that they bought. Nick especially became increasingly desperate to treat and theoretically cure his mother's condition. By the time that he was twenty and Cassiana was eighteen, the pair enlisted the help of CommPar to kidnap a pair of low-level Zetatech employees who they believed could help alleviate their mother's condition. To the surprise of no one except the siblings, the employees were unable to help. Before they could be released, a retaliatory strike by Zetatech in conjunction with the local Badges resulted in Nick's death and Cassiana being severely wounded, receiving severe, permanent burns on much of her body, losing both legs, an arm, and the function of a number of organs.

One of CommPar's major industries in Chicago was the illegal smuggling and distribution of cybernetic implants. When they discovered Cassiana and a few others still alive following Zetatech's retaliation, they patched them up. Cassiana especially received a large amount of treatment to remain alive and return to a fairly normal state of operation following the incident. However, when her mother learned of Nick's death, she threw herself out of their apartment window, ending her own life.

Walking away with survivor's guilt over her brother and a permanent debt to CommPar, Cassiana became heavily involved with the gang. Simultaneously rising through the ranks and becoming increasingly hateful of her own humanity's weakness, she became obsessed with CommPar's "ideology". CommPar, also known as the Communist Party of America - Chicago Chapter, nominally subscribed to a Marxist-Leninist doctrine of total social and economic equality: a popular sentiment in a world dominated by class divides and law-abusing corporations. As the organization was forced out of the ballot boxes and onto the street through corporate foul play, CommPar's leaders began paying lip service to the ideology as a matter of survival, emphasising the use of the colour red and the hammer and sickle as symbols of the gang rather than the ideology behind it. They began focusing on illegal activities such as smuggling and the drug trade to ensure a steady flow of funds to protect their own and ensure that the corps couldn't wipe them out. But along the way, profit superseded ideology.

But that didn't stop O'Rourke, whose understanding of communism was limited to "tearing down corporate control" and "equality for the people", from becoming a vehement ideologue. During the next five years she spent in Chicago she quickly rose through the ranks of CommPar, investing most of the money she made back into her own body, gradually abandoning what she called her "useless meat", until, when she was twenty three, she underwent a full-body cyborgization, transferring her brain into a completely robotic body.

Following her transformation, she became ruthless in her quest to "destroy corporate control". Taking up the moniker "Red Guard" and forming an elite group of gang members known as the "Shock Army", she became CommPar's premier netrunner, ultimately becoming head of CommPar's Net Division, as well as the leader of the Shock Army. For two years she pursued the domination of Chicago's criminal underworld by CommPar in the hopes that, once they stabilise their position as a criminal syndicate, they would then be able to work on the systematic destruction of corporations in Chicago. But as CommPar expanded, O'Rourke noticed the leadership's disinterest in attacking corporations. When she was twenty six, she undertook an unauthorised raid of an Adraka convoy heading into Chicago. Despite putting up no resistance, Red Guard had both the driver and the security complement killed.

The provocation of Adraka Robotics was a massive setback for CommPar. For years, the gang had secretly relied on Adraka not just turning a blind eye, but actively aiding their stealing and smuggling of Cyberware to the black market to maintain a profit despite their massive profit losses and buy-outs. Adraka, debilitated as they were following numerous conflicts with other corps, still acted as a corporation with legal protection - that protection extended to extrajudicial retaliation.

A brief but bloody street war broke out between CommPar and Adraka's bought-out allies, but it quickly subsided as the sides came to a compromise: CommPar would make regular "anonymous donations" to Adraka's income every year, and O'Rourke, known as "Red Guard'' to Adraka, was to be eliminated. In return, Adraka would remain complicit in CommPar's smuggling and distribution network in Chicago.

Shortly after the deal, O'Rourke was invited to a "party congress" - in reality an attempt to kill her - but she narrowly escaped following a tip-off by an old friend, Thomas Calhoun. O'Rourke gathered up a number of her own loyalists, mostly drawn from her Shock Army, in an attempt to wrest leadership of CommPar away from those who had made a deal in exchange for her life. Donning the title "Red Army Faction", a second shorter, and even bloodier street war broke out. However, the attempt was unsuccessful - a move of desperation that would ultimately result in the death of a number of O'Rourke's friends. Facing defeat and certain death if she stayed in Chicago, she gathered up a small group of her Red Army Faction members and went west - to Cascadia, where she believed she could start her struggle over in a fresh environment.

O'Rourke's idealism got her to Cascadia, but only just. Shortly after her arrival in the city, her Red Army Faction began to fall apart as financial realities began to overtake the group. Revolutionary missions were foregone for paying jobs, and where money was once rare, it became plentiful as the experienced RAF members handily outperformed their competition. As money began flowing in, O'Rourke and the others soon set their ideals second to their profit. As cushy apartments, luxurious food, and pricey guns became the norm, each member of the RAF slowly went their own way as independent mercenaries.

Now, as an independent merc and netrunner, O'Rourke's forged a reputation as a dependable, if not a little pricey mercenary. Cassiana, over the course of half a year, enough Eurodollars to afford a comfortable apartment. Since then, she spends most of her days either working on contracts or hunting for them. During the nights, she can usually be found trawling the city's nightlife; from clubs and bars to overnight-only clothing stores, Cassiana rarely sleeps before the sun rises.

DO NOT REMOVE: 2183
Last edited by Transoxthraxia on Fri Feb 12, 2021 1:17 pm, edited 12 times in total.
Where must we go, we who wander this wasteland, in search for our better selves?
In Egypt's sandy silence, all alone,
Stands a gigantic Leg, which far off throws
The only shadow that the Desert knows:—
"I am great OZYMANDIAS," saith the stone,
"The King of Kings; this mighty City shows
"The wonders of my hand." The City's gone,
Nought but the Leg remaining to disclose
The site of this forgotten Babylon.

We wonder, and some Hunter may express
Wonder like ours, when thro' the wilderness
Where London stood, holding the Wolf in chace,
He meets some fragment huge, and stops to guess
What powerful but unrecorded race
Once dwelt in that annihilated place.
The Nuclear Fist wrote:Transoxthraxia confirmed for shit taste

User avatar
Endem
Minister
 
Posts: 3168
Founded: Aug 19, 2018
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Endem » Sat Feb 06, 2021 5:11 pm

This is a tag, a app tomorrow
*insert cliche signature here*

User avatar
Endem
Minister
 
Posts: 3168
Founded: Aug 19, 2018
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Endem » Sun Feb 07, 2021 5:31 pm

    Name: Tristan Del
    Aliases: "Tri"
    Gender: M
    Age: 34
    Appearance: Tristan is a caucasian male, hair on the sides of his head is completely shaved off, leaving only a very short mohawk like strip of hair atop his head ( something like this: https://coolmenshair.com/wp-content/uploads/undercut-mohawk-3.jpg ), he sports a stubble beard. Lines from various surgeries and operations from ripperdocs run through his body, skin in several places ( shoulders, neck and knees) was replaced with a see-through substitute to show his subdermal armor, as well as a obvious plastic case on his cyberlimb, and cyber eyes, though looking vaguely human, notably the colors were purposefully Inverted, thus making the sclera look black, iris look orange, and the pupil white. He is physically fit, 185 c.m tall, 75 kg.
    Goals: Not become a psycho, get baloperidol and a psychoshrink, and make their way through the world
    Cyberware/Bioware:
    Biomonitor
    Left Hand Sensory Extension
    Adrenal Booster
    Mechatronic Core
    MicroGenerator
    50 Meter Sonar
    Cyberoptics, aside from normal wavelength, it can perceive IR/UV, look... Human enough
    Right Hand and Arm replaced with a Cyberlimb, additional mods include a Spike Hand, EMP shielding, and a cheap, transparent plastic covering
    Pain Editor
    Lotsa Subdermal Armor
    Endoskeleton
    Reinforced Tendons
    Equipment: Techtronika RT-46 Burya, Militech M221 Saratoga, Knife, 3 X-22 Flashbang Grenade, assorted tools.
    Job: Solo
    Backstory:
    Tristan was born in West Europe in 2044, and from an early age he was fascinated with cyberware, and the abilities it granted, going even further, he soon felt his body was somehow incomplete, as opposed to the much more common disdain of the European population on cyberware, preferring bioware instead. He underwent several surgeries before his, at the time modest by American standards, new mechanical extensions made him flee his country of birth due to persecution, he does not talk much about that time.

    He became a solo soon after, working various odd jobs at the time, his first one was a stint with the Polish Harbingers, though that job ended for the same reason he had to flee in the first place, he had been since 'round the world and back. His various jobs include being briefly contracted in Brazil on an escort mission, or running from Laos with a bunch of Thai, he even once was in the middle of Atlantic, being contracted to hunt whales with some crazed captain.

    On every other job he managed to get another cybernetic, another enhancement, many times he spent nearly everything he got from a job on yet another component, using the rest to move somewhere else and get another job, it was a lonely existence, and in the back of his school he always had a nagging feeling that he was still incomplete, somehow, so he kept on putting chrome into him.

    Eventually, he felt what he feared, at first it was, not that weird, he just stopped identifying with the people he worked with, he reasoned, obviously because they were strangers, and because the life of a nomad made him do that, then he stopped to mind killing, slowly but surely, chrome after chrome, chip after chip, he sliced and diced his humanity away. He felt it, it came to him as he was kneeling down in a back alley of some African city, inspecting the corpse of the target he just killed, he was teetering, on the edge of losing it.

    He was horrified, probably the very last shred of humanity left within him making itself known, he was on the verge of becoming a cyberpsycho, too much chrome, too little mental fortitude, and now Tristan needed to watch him, keep everything in check, lest he falls over the proverbial edge, guess the folks in Europe had been right about something. He, in his wandering around the world, eventually came to Cascadia, sneaking in to avoid the need to register, looking to snag some jobs, this time though, to get the drug baloperidol, and maybe to learn where can he get a Psychoshrink to look at him, assuming he doesn't succumb in the meantime.
    DO NOT REMOVE: 2183
Last edited by Endem on Wed Feb 10, 2021 2:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.
*insert cliche signature here*

User avatar
Segral
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1643
Founded: Sep 06, 2017
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Segral » Mon Feb 08, 2021 11:34 pm

    Name: Leon Saint-Fleur
    Aliases: Lily. He hates the name, but by this point, it's stuck on him for good.
    Gender: Male
    Age: 31
    Appearance:
    Image

    Standing 6'1 and weighing in at an even 215 pounds, Leon's most significant traits are his massive biceps. Not one with the time or cash flow for expensive or extensive Fashionware, he's focused on funneling whatever money he's got into making his body perfect in every way. Thanks to a combination of excessive training and some decent muscular implants, his muscles are practically clay-chiseled from head to toe to the external eye, decorated some by no less than 18 light tattoos ranging from a small bird on the back of his right hand to a full-body angel across his back to a large lily flower across his sternum, hence part of the reason for his alias. These tattoos, in addition to the rest of his form in certain places, are somewhat odd in texture and shape due to ripperdoc-implanted subdermal armor, the most noticeable of these places being two narrow grooves above his knees as well as two bumps just below his ears. Other visible enhancements include his (slightly uneven) teeth, which have two gold crowns that house his Radio Link, an obviously crooked nose that looks like it's been fractured at least once, and a small metal patch on his heel that acts as his motion detector. He's got a twitchy left eye that he won't explain, and is rumored to have gotten certain implants to his groin following a particularly nasty shift bouncing at a nightclub, although he'll vehemently deny it if you ask him about it.


    Goals: Keep doing what he's doing. Survive his shitty detective job, do some jobs on the side without pissing the wrong people off, and collect enough money at the end of the day for rent, cable, and child support. Don't become a psycho like all the rest of those Voodoo Boys back home, save up enough cash to get out of this work and open up his own tattoo shop.

    Cyberware/Bioware:

    • Grafted Muscle
    • Muscle & Bone Lace throughout his body
    • Enhanced antibodies
    • Cyberoptics System implanted into his left eye, upgraded with low-light vision, anti-dazzle, and video recording that syncs up with his Cyberaudio. Due to the less than up-to-code nature of the implant, it causes chronic pain to his face and also results in constant twitching of the eyelid.
    • Cyberaudio System implanted into his inner ears, complete with Radio Link, level damper, audio recording that syncs up with his Cyberoptics, and a voice stress analyzer. However, due to the poor nature of the implant, the radio only goes about half a mile.
    • Motion detector implanted in his heel
    • Nasal implant that heightens/boosts his sense of smell, complete with filters for drugs and poisons
    • Some subdermal armor, mostly on his torso and upper limbs
    • Fortified tendons
    • Bakumatsu Dialect Chip for whenever he needs to talk with his Triad fixers

    Equipment:

    • Militech Crusher Shotgun
    • Malorian Overture Revolver
    • Militech m-10AF Lexington Pistol
    • Knife

    Job: Detective, one of the crooked variety

    Backstory:
    The story of Leon Saint-Fleur starts thirty-one years ago in a place very far away from Cascadia, Night City, or even the New United States. It was in Port-au-Prince, the capital of the island nation of Haiti, a place that was poor, poor by literally any definition of the world, but safe, safe from American invasions to the north and south of the island. Leon had been one of the lucky ones. His father had been an executive for a small AgriCorp working to revitalize Haitian farming, and a business like that paid well. The young Saint-Fleur lived in a decent house in Petion-Ville, rode to school on a decent tap-tap bus, ate decent food and enjoyed decent luxuries. It was all set out for him; he would go to the State University, or maybe an international school on scholarship if he could wrangle it, and then he would work for his father's company. He'd made his peace with it, all that was left was to actually do it.

    But then, when he was thirteen, the storms came. Haiti was no stranger to the occasional hurricane, but these ones were unlike anything anyone had seen before. They were vicious, and they ripped a country with subpar construction at best to shreds. Cities fell apart, roads were reduced to rubble, farms were blown to bits, thousands and thousands died. The government tried to keep it together, but by 2062, their budgets exhausted and their government in shambles, they gave up. It was time to get the hell out of dodge, leave this cursed rock and move somewhere where opportunity and a way forward existed. Leon's father was reluctant to do it; even with his company and his farms destroyed, he didn't want to leave his homeland, jump away from a place where he didn't know the language or the people, especially the language. Americans didn't speak Creole, or French. But they had to go; there was nothing to do here, nothing of value anyways.

    The family fled with the last of their people, fleeing all the way to the Pacifica District of Night City before settling down in the rapidly expanding New Haiti neighborhood. Eventually, the whole city was the New Haiti neighborhood, and the Voodoo Boys had replaced the city council and the police as the runners of the street. It was poor, all of it was poor, even worse than downtown Port-au-Prince had been. How were you supposed to get richer when you barely understand nearby conversations and had lost everything to a massive thunderstorm? His mom did okay; she was a rare dentist in Haiti and understood enough English to get by. Opening a clinic was too expensive, but enough people were broke enough to take any teeth-cleaning service they could get, even if it meant sitting in a basement with whatever tools had been hurriedly packed into the family luggage. Other migrants poured through the house to gossip and get their teeth cleaned, and sometimes, a Voodoo Boy would come in asking for a kink in their Radio Link to get fixed up. However, her success was her son and husband's loss. Leon didn't handle the uproot well, and in between struggling through high school as an ESL student, began to associate more and more with the Voodoo Boys that flooded through his house, never officially joining the gang, but coming dangerously close. He hung out at their netrunners' houses, got into smash-fuelled barfights with them, and got seven full tattoos from their local parlor. His father was even worse. Frustrated at his lack of ability to find work and his inability to pick up English, the man began to deteriorate, shutting himself off and turning into a depressed husk. He nearly drank himself to death in two years, but he ate until his heart failed first.

    It was a wake-up call for Leon. He realized that he would slowly kill himself if he tried to stay in Pacifica, and that he needed a way out. So, two days after he turned 18, he gathered up whatever money he had collected from odd jobs, grabbed the high school diploma that he had barely gotten, and began to hitchhike his way to Cascadia, cutting off all of his old ties in the process. A few months later, he was right inside the heart of the city on the Seattle side, ready for a new life and a new purpose.

    Since then, his life has had its ups-and-downs. After holding a few night jobs, including bouncing, bartending, and freelance tattoo inking, a skill that he had picked from his Voodoo Boy friends, he got himself hired by the Cascadian Police Department as a beat cop. However, that job in and of itself had problems. The pay for the job was barely enough to afford a closet, and the guns they provided certainly weren't enough to deal with the absolute shit he was getting drenched in on the street, even after he got promoted to detective. Especially given the fact that poverty had kept him in his meat and flesh body without so much as a speck of metal. He was in perfect physical shape, but that could only go so far. He needed money, and he needed a lot of it, and that was how he approached his first fixer. Soon, he had deals worked out with most of the major gangs. Turn a blind eye to their conduct on the street and web, do a few jobs here and there, and get paid for it. If the pay wasn't in cash, the pay was in new hardware, or even better, surgeries. At first, it was simple stuff, muscle implants, lace, a motion detector for his heel, but once he established a rapport, he got his eyes, ears, and nose opened right up, even if the implants were a bit less than correct. The pain was pretty bad, but he could ask for pills for that. And that's how he's reached 31. Work as a "detective" by day and night, fit his gigs in between, and if there's time left over, catch a few hours of sleep. Life's never been better.


    DO NOT REMOVE: 2183
Last edited by Segral on Tue Feb 09, 2021 11:29 am, edited 1 time in total.
yea bro idk

User avatar
Anowa
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 16984
Founded: Jul 29, 2014
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Anowa » Mon Feb 08, 2021 11:51 pm

Endem wrote:
    Name: Tristan Del
    Aliases: "Tri"
    Gender: M
    Age: 34
    Appearance: Tristan is a caucasian male, hair on the sides of his head is completely shaved off, leaving only a very short mohawk like strip of hair atop his head ( something like this: https://coolmenshair.com/wp-content/uploads/undercut-mohawk-3.jpg ), he sports a stubble beard. Lines from various surgeries and operations from ripperdocs run through his body, skin in several places ( shoulders, neck and knees) was replaced with a see-through substitute to show his subdermal armor, as well as a obvious plastic case on his cyberlimb, and cyber eyes, though looking vaguely human, notably the colors were purposefully Inverted, thus making the sclera look black, iris look orange, and the pupil white. He is physically fit
    Goals: Not become a psycho, get baloperidol and a psychoshrink, and make their way through the world
    Cyberware/Bioware:
    Biomonitor
    Left Hand Sensory Extension
    Adrenal Booster
    Mechatronic Core
    MicroGenerator
    50 Meter Sonar
    Cyberoptics, aside from normal wavelength, it can perceive IR/UV, look... Human enough
    Right Hand and Arm replaced with a Cyberlimb, additional mods include a Spike Hand, EMP shielding, and a cheap, transparent plastic covering
    Pain Editor
    Lotsa Subdermal Armor
    Endoskeleton
    Reinforced Tendons
    Equipment: Techtronika RT-46 Burya, Militech M221 Saratoga, Knife, 3 X-22 Flashbang Grenade, assorted tools.
    Job: Solo
    Backstory:
    Tristan was born in West Europe in 2044, and from an early age he was fascinated with cyberware, and the abilities it granted, going even further, he soon felt his body was somehow incomplete, as opposed to the much more common disdain of the European population on cyberware, preferring bioware instead. He underwent several surgeries before his, at the time modest by American standards, new mechanical extensions made him flee his country of birth due to persecution, he does not talk much about that time.

    He became a solo soon after, working various odd jobs at the time, his first one was a stint with the Polish Harbingers, though that job ended for the same reason he had to flee in the first place, he had been since 'round the world and back. His various jobs include being briefly contracted in Brazil on an escort mission, or running from Laos with a bunch of Thai, he even once was in the middle of Atlantic, being contracted to hunt whales with some crazed captain.

    On every other job he managed to get another cybernetic, another enhancement, many times he spent nearly everything he got from a job on yet another component, using the rest to move somewhere else and get another job, it was a lonely existence, and in the back of his school he always had a nagging feeling that he was still incomplete, somehow, so he kept on putting chrome into him.

    Eventually, he felt what he feared, at first it was, not that weird, he just stopped identifying with the people he worked with, he reasoned, obviously because they were strangers, and because the life of a nomad made him do that, then he stopped to mind killing, slowly but surely, chrome after chrome, chip after chip, he sliced and diced his humanity away. He felt it, it came to him as he was kneeling down in a back alley of some African city, inspecting the corpse of the target he just killed, he was teetering, on the edge of losing it.

    He was horrified, probably the very last shred of humanity left within him making itself known, he was on the verge of becoming a cyberpsycho, too much chrome, too little mental fortitude, and now Tristan needed to watch him, keep everything in check, lest he falls over the proverbial edge, guess the folks in Europe had been right about something. He, in his wandering around the world, eventually came to Cascadia, sneaking in to avoid the need to register, looking to snag some jobs, this time though, to get the drug baloperidol, and maybe to learn where can he get a Psychoshrink to look at him, assuming he doesn't succumb in the meantime.
    DO NOT REMOVE: 2183

Accepted.
Awards:
Tie Winner: Most Involved in P2TM, 2016
Winner: Best Crime RP, 2016

An Intro to Anowa

User avatar
Segral
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1643
Founded: Sep 06, 2017
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Segral » Tue Feb 09, 2021 11:31 am

Segral wrote:
    Name: Leon Saint-Fleur


App finished, feel free to take a look whenever.
yea bro idk

User avatar
Mandicoria
Senator
 
Posts: 4001
Founded: Sep 10, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Mandicoria » Wed Feb 10, 2021 1:30 pm

    Name: Amélie Gauthier
    Aliases: Biker
    Gender: Female
    Age: 26
    Appearance:
    She stands at an above average 6'0. her body itself is fit, well maintained, and quite muscular to back up the constant heavy hitting she does. Can't be a fighter if you ain't in shape.

    Her Face
    She wears her biker outfit whenever on the job.

    Goals: Be free or die trying.
    Cyberware/Bioware:
    Circulatory:
    Syn-Lungs
    Blood Pump
    Adrenaline Booster

    Skeletal:
    Dense Marrow
    Microrotors
    Bionic Lungs
    Microvibration Generator

    OS:
    Biodyne Berserk

    Immune:
    Pain Editor

    Nervous:
    Maneuvering System


    Equipment:
    Melee:
    Machete
    Butcher's Cleaver
    Throwing Knives

    Ranged:
    Militech M-10AF Lexington

    Job: Hired gun.
    Backstory:

    Born from a well-off Quebecois family that immigrated over to Cascadia decades ago. Amélie's had a better position than most would starting off in life. Considering the rampant squalor of most of the population worldwide. But one thing that was a constant for most of her early life was on how much of a failure she was on a personal level, and to her own family. With her ALMOST failing out of schooling, and preferring to simply live an almost reclusive lifestyle. Where she would just smoke weed all day, then go out and having sex with whatever degenerate friends she had left in her life. Needless to say she didn't have very good relations with the rest of her family. As a matter of fact her family relationship got so bad they practically just forced her to move out. She was lucky though, they at least kept paying bills and giving her enough money to continue that lifestyle. All at the low cost of never talking to them again.

    Life was good when she moved out. Yet there was something missing from it all. She had enough money to live on her own for potentially the rest of her life, sure, but she felt this... restriction with her life. Sure she was free to continue with her outright hedonistic lifestyle, but she was never as free as she could be. She had to pay rent even if she could save up the money to buy the damn apartment, but why should she restrict herself to doing these things? Why should she HAVE to comply with others who think they hold some sort of "power" over her. Hell she was just as restrained as she was when she was with her family, if not more so. No offer of escape.

    That was until she found out about the seedy underworld of Cascadia. Getting some new friends through her old ones, and most importantly. Setting up a new career for herself. She had the money to get the gear, and she already stayed physically fit enough to fit the work. Granted it was for superficial purposes rather than practical, but it helped. All it took was a bit of commitment, and that's exactly what she had. With her taking contract work as hired muscle, hired guns, etc. for the past few years now. Only getting better at her craft as time flew on by. With her feeling even more free and excited with each job she took, and every life she extinguished. Her lifestyle at home would stay the same, but with these jobs it was perfect.

    Yet not all is good with her. With time passing by, she'd become more and more bold. Bound to get on someone's radar, or do something horribly stupid to fuck up her deal. She doesn't give a shit about that though, not like she's gonna live past 30 anyways.
    DO NOT REMOVE: 2183
very bitter left wing trash. also a proud SRA member
feel free to telegram, i don't care
What if Humanity was as Important as it thought it was... But it turned out to not be a very good thing.
also i rip off warhammer, DOOM, and halo unapologetically
Highly suggest listening to this when reading anything I post about this nation.
A [1.18] civilization, according to this index.

User avatar
Transoxthraxia
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 22055
Founded: Jan 19, 2013
Benevolent Dictatorship

Postby Transoxthraxia » Fri Feb 12, 2021 1:14 pm

My app should be complete now.
Where must we go, we who wander this wasteland, in search for our better selves?
In Egypt's sandy silence, all alone,
Stands a gigantic Leg, which far off throws
The only shadow that the Desert knows:—
"I am great OZYMANDIAS," saith the stone,
"The King of Kings; this mighty City shows
"The wonders of my hand." The City's gone,
Nought but the Leg remaining to disclose
The site of this forgotten Babylon.

We wonder, and some Hunter may express
Wonder like ours, when thro' the wilderness
Where London stood, holding the Wolf in chace,
He meets some fragment huge, and stops to guess
What powerful but unrecorded race
Once dwelt in that annihilated place.
The Nuclear Fist wrote:Transoxthraxia confirmed for shit taste

User avatar
Anowa
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 16984
Founded: Jul 29, 2014
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Anowa » Sat Feb 13, 2021 7:34 pm

Segral wrote:
    Name: Leon Saint-Fleur
    Aliases: Lily. He hates the name, but by this point, it's stuck on him for good.
    Gender: Male
    Age: 31
    Appearance:
    Standing 6'1 and weighing in at an even 215 pounds, Leon's most significant traits are his massive biceps. Not one with the time or cash flow for expensive or extensive Fashionware, he's focused on funneling whatever money he's got into making his body perfect in every way. Thanks to a combination of excessive training and some decent muscular implants, his muscles are practically clay-chiseled from head to toe to the external eye, decorated some by no less than 18 light tattoos ranging from a small bird on the back of his right hand to a full-body angel across his back to a large lily flower across his sternum, hence part of the reason for his alias. These tattoos, in addition to the rest of his form in certain places, are somewhat odd in texture and shape due to ripperdoc-implanted subdermal armor, the most noticeable of these places being two narrow grooves above his knees as well as two bumps just below his ears. Other visible enhancements include his (slightly uneven) teeth, which have two gold crowns that house his Radio Link, an obviously crooked nose that looks like it's been fractured at least once, and a small metal patch on his heel that acts as his motion detector. He's got a twitchy left eye that he won't explain, and is rumored to have gotten certain implants to his groin following a particularly nasty shift bouncing at a nightclub, although he'll vehemently deny it if you ask him about it.


    Goals: Keep doing what he's doing. Survive his shitty detective job, do some jobs on the side without pissing the wrong people off, and collect enough money at the end of the day for rent, cable, and child support. Don't become a psycho like all the rest of those Voodoo Boys back home, save up enough cash to get out of this work and open up his own tattoo shop.

    Cyberware/Bioware:

    • Grafted Muscle
    • Muscle & Bone Lace throughout his body
    • Enhanced antibodies
    • Cyberoptics System implanted into his left eye, upgraded with low-light vision, anti-dazzle, and video recording that syncs up with his Cyberaudio. Due to the less than up-to-code nature of the implant, it causes chronic pain to his face and also results in constant twitching of the eyelid.
    • Cyberaudio System implanted into his inner ears, complete with Radio Link, level damper, audio recording that syncs up with his Cyberoptics, and a voice stress analyzer. However, due to the poor nature of the implant, the radio only goes about half a mile.
    • Motion detector implanted in his heel
    • Nasal implant that heightens/boosts his sense of smell, complete with filters for drugs and poisons
    • Some subdermal armor, mostly on his torso and upper limbs
    • Fortified tendons
    • Bakumatsu Dialect Chip for whenever he needs to talk with his Triad fixers

    Equipment:

    • Militech Crusher Shotgun
    • Malorian Overture Revolver
    • Militech m-10AF Lexington Pistol
    • Knife

    Job: Detective, one of the crooked variety

    Backstory:
    The story of Leon Saint-Fleur starts thirty-one years ago in a place very far away from Cascadia, Night City, or even the New United States. It was in Port-au-Prince, the capital of the island nation of Haiti, a place that was poor, poor by literally any definition of the world, but safe, safe from American invasions to the north and south of the island. Leon had been one of the lucky ones. His father had been an executive for a small AgriCorp working to revitalize Haitian farming, and a business like that paid well. The young Saint-Fleur lived in a decent house in Petion-Ville, rode to school on a decent tap-tap bus, ate decent food and enjoyed decent luxuries. It was all set out for him; he would go to the State University, or maybe an international school on scholarship if he could wrangle it, and then he would work for his father's company. He'd made his peace with it, all that was left was to actually do it.

    But then, when he was thirteen, the storms came. Haiti was no stranger to the occasional hurricane, but these ones were unlike anything anyone had seen before. They were vicious, and they ripped a country with subpar construction at best to shreds. Cities fell apart, roads were reduced to rubble, farms were blown to bits, thousands and thousands died. The government tried to keep it together, but by 2062, their budgets exhausted and their government in shambles, they gave up. It was time to get the hell out of dodge, leave this cursed rock and move somewhere where opportunity and a way forward existed. Leon's father was reluctant to do it; even with his company and his farms destroyed, he didn't want to leave his homeland, jump away from a place where he didn't know the language or the people, especially the language. Americans didn't speak Creole, or French. But they had to go; there was nothing to do here, nothing of value anyways.

    The family fled with the last of their people, fleeing all the way to the Pacifica District of Night City before settling down in the rapidly expanding New Haiti neighborhood. Eventually, the whole city was the New Haiti neighborhood, and the Voodoo Boys had replaced the city council and the police as the runners of the street. It was poor, all of it was poor, even worse than downtown Port-au-Prince had been. How were you supposed to get richer when you barely understand nearby conversations and had lost everything to a massive thunderstorm? His mom did okay; she was a rare dentist in Haiti and understood enough English to get by. Opening a clinic was too expensive, but enough people were broke enough to take any teeth-cleaning service they could get, even if it meant sitting in a basement with whatever tools had been hurriedly packed into the family luggage. Other migrants poured through the house to gossip and get their teeth cleaned, and sometimes, a Voodoo Boy would come in asking for a kink in their Radio Link to get fixed up. However, her success was her son and husband's loss. Leon didn't handle the uproot well, and in between struggling through high school as an ESL student, began to associate more and more with the Voodoo Boys that flooded through his house, never officially joining the gang, but coming dangerously close. He hung out at their netrunners' houses, got into smash-fuelled barfights with them, and got seven full tattoos from their local parlor. His father was even worse. Frustrated at his lack of ability to find work and his inability to pick up English, the man began to deteriorate, shutting himself off and turning into a depressed husk. He nearly drank himself to death in two years, but he ate until his heart failed first.

    It was a wake-up call for Leon. He realized that he would slowly kill himself if he tried to stay in Pacifica, and that he needed a way out. So, two days after he turned 18, he gathered up whatever money he had collected from odd jobs, grabbed the high school diploma that he had barely gotten, and began to hitchhike his way to Cascadia, cutting off all of his old ties in the process. A few months later, he was right inside the heart of the city on the Seattle side, ready for a new life and a new purpose.

    Since then, his life has had its ups-and-downs. After holding a few night jobs, including bouncing, bartending, and freelance tattoo inking, a skill that he had picked from his Voodoo Boy friends, he got himself hired by the Cascadian Police Department as a beat cop. However, that job in and of itself had problems. The pay for the job was barely enough to afford a closet, and the guns they provided certainly weren't enough to deal with the absolute shit he was getting drenched in on the street, even after he got promoted to detective. Especially given the fact that poverty had kept him in his meat and flesh body without so much as a speck of metal. He was in perfect physical shape, but that could only go so far. He needed money, and he needed a lot of it, and that was how he approached his first fixer. Soon, he had deals worked out with most of the major gangs. Turn a blind eye to their conduct on the street and web, do a few jobs here and there, and get paid for it. If the pay wasn't in cash, the pay was in new hardware, or even better, surgeries. At first, it was simple stuff, muscle implants, lace, a motion detector for his heel, but once he established a rapport, he got his eyes, ears, and nose opened right up, even if the implants were a bit less than correct. The pain was pretty bad, but he could ask for pills for that. And that's how he's reached 31. Work as a "detective" by day and night, fit his gigs in between, and if there's time left over, catch a few hours of sleep. Life's never been better.


    DO NOT REMOVE: 2183

Accepted.

Transoxthraxia wrote:
Name: Cassiana Maeve O'Rourke
Aliases: "Red Guard" professionally, "O'Rourke" by her former comrades in CommPar, "Cass" by friends who want to get under her skin, and "Maevy" by her long-dead brother.
Gender: Female
Age: 28
Appearance:
Standing at exactly five feet eight inches and weighing one hundred and thirty five pounds, almost none of that - three pounds of the brain to be exact - is human. Red Guard's entire body is composed of various parts and synthetic organs that are mostly standardised in an analogous system to Raven Microcybernetic's Gemini product, albeit with the caveat that most of her tech is either aftermarket, blackmarket, or both. However, with every job she closes, she undergoes an operation or two to get closer to standardisation - and thus avoid the complications that may occur when a full-body conversion isn't standardised. Instead of standard ExoDerm skin, however, she orders a pricey, specialised flexible type of chrome-like metal that gives her the appearance of being a living, breathing, metallic being. Being quite expensive, she tends to be frustrated when the metal is damaged - even a small scratch can set her off. However, she asked her ripperdoc to include a trio of notches above her left eye as a sort of tattoo - to represent her parents and brother.

She also has Techhair and cycles through a number of sets that range from bright red, bone white, deep purple, and even royal blue depending on her mood, the perceived tone of an event that she's attending, or even the day of the week or time of the day. Her most common-worn hair is the one pictured.

Overtop of her chrome exterior, Cassiana has a number of different "tattoos" that betray her identity as a "communist". Most notably she has a hammer and sickle imprinted on her left collarbone, which is usually the most visible mark. She also has a red star on her left hip.

Goals: Since arriving in Cascadia, O'Rourke and her Red Army Faction have slowly been growing apart from one another and their original mission. The RAF was formed as a necessity and a desire - a desire to liberate the people from corporate tyranny, and the necessity of survival following their exile from CommPar. However, revolutionary idealism soon gave way to pragmatism. The members needed money for places to live and food to eat. As more money was made, the RAF became a microcosm of CommPar, and O'Rourke's group slowly and unceremoniously evaporated. O'Rourke still nominally believes in the struggle against corporate dominance, but her ideals often come second to her desires and "needs" - including the newest fashions, trends, and tech. A sizable amount of subconscious guilt has slowly begun to build up as a result of this. So, in short, her goals are nominally the destruction of the corporate system and the creation of an equal society for all, but de facto are most about the pursuit of profit and the maintenance of her lifestyle.
Cyberware/Bioware:
  • A jury-rigged version of the R.M.C Gemini full body conversion set. This effectively has removed her brain from her human body and put it into a robotic shell that is then designed to appear like a human body. She initially had to assemble the parts from a number of different sources, meaning that there is occasional unreliability and her software is unable to be updated past a certain point. She is currently working on saving up for a second, complete R.M.C Gemini, so that she can be transplanted into that.
  • Some assorted cyberware associated with her R.M.C Gemini full body conversion. This includes things like synthetic lungs to simulate breathing, and a synthetic digestive system so that she can eat and drink things, but not process them.
  • Metallic chrome body plating. When receiving her full body conversion, O'Rourke opted instead of synthetic skin to get metallic chrome plating across her new robotic body instead.
  • XM-02 "Liberator" Cyberdeck. A homebrewed cellular cyberdeck built and paid for by CommPar's blood money, Liberator was constructed in part by, but mostly for, O'Rourke during her time as the lead of CommPar's cyber division. With twenty memory units and speed to match the best NetWatch has to offer and data walls that would put most independent netrunners to shame. One of a kind, and of a surprisingly high manufacturing quality, it's Red Guard's most beloved implant, and the one that, along with her body, she is continuously trying to improve.
  • Self-ICE. Basically a failsafe ICE program that automatically gets tripped, alerting O'Rourke and scrambling to protect her in the case that a netrunner tries to get into her system. It's a self-contained unit independent of her system's other ICE, meaning that it's akin to spaced armour, or a shield, being the first line of defense against a would-be net-intruder.
  • Kiroshi Optics Basic Eye Module. She's had a number of modifications put into her cyberoptics, including LowLite(tm) vision, Anti-Dazzle, and a small Video Camera.
  • An extendable 12-inch blade in her right palm.
  • Subdermal Armour. While her metal plating is, well, metal, it's still relatively thin. This armour is meant to reinforce the plating and protect all of the wiring and electronics beneath it.
  • Audio Homing Tracer. This allows O'Rourke to follow an audio source that's been marked by the tracer as far as one kilometer away.
  • DataTerm Link. O'Rourke can interface with DataTerms and download any data on them.
  • Built-in Translation Software. O'Rourke can hear most common languages that aren't English and have them translated for her.
Equipment: The equipment that she's packing does depend on the day and what she's doing. If she's on a job, she'll usually have with her:
  • H&K Majestic-12. Her prized possession - the rare Majestic-12 fires like a dream, but is expensive and hard to get your hands on. O'Rourke keeps hers with her almost always.
  • A book-sized printer that she can interface with to print off important documents.
  • A hand-held scanner, that allows physical items to be scanned into digital images and for digital images to be displayed.
  • A number of chips that store various programs that she has.
  • Various "hard" tools to get into places that her hacking programs wouldn't otherwise be able to, and to maintain some of her own external cyberware.
Job: Independent mercenary & netrunner in Cascadia.
Backstory:
Born in 2050 and raised in the megacity that was once Chicago, Illinois, to parents of Irish-American descent, Cassiana's childhood memories feature heavily her family's slowly-disappearing middle class lifestyle. Both her parents worked for Zetatech, whose Chicago division became increasingly demanding of the pair following their competition with other firms, especially Fuyutsuki, for the domination of the local tech market. Since her parents were always either working ten or twelve hour days or sleeping, she was mostly raised by her older brother of two years, Nicholas, who would walk with her to school, make her meals, and help her with her homework.

The dream of a comfortable, middle-class lifestyle would ultimately be impossible to maintain for the O'Rourkes, however. By the time that Cassiana was ten, her father began developing a rare form of adrenal cancer as a result of poor-quality implants that he had willingly received to improve his job performance. Instead of doling out the money required for his treatments, Zetatech opted to furlough him instead, slashing his benefits and his only source of income. In response, Cassiana's mother took on increasing responsibilities in the company in a bid to earn more income to treat her husband's illness. Even Nicholas, twelve at the time, looked for odd jobs in between school and homework.

As her father's illness progressed, her mother buried herself in work for Zetatech. Becoming increasingly desperate for money, she signed up to test an experimental version of ZetaTech's BodyComp. During this time, both Nicholas and Cassiana became affiliated with CommPar, a local gang which had its roots in the old Chicago labour movement but had been forced into underground crime to sustain itself. Both children would work as mules and message-bearers for the gang until Nick was officially made a full member when he was sixteen.

Shortly after this their father finally died, and not a week after his death, Zetatech fired their mother as a part of a purge related to an assault made by CommPar on a Zetatech installation. Knowing that her children were affiliated with CommPar, they severed their ties with her and the family and went so far as to temporarily kidnap Cassiana's mother so they could forcefully removing the prototype BodyComp they had implanted some years earlier. Cast out, deprived of her husband and her source of income, and with two children that needed care, their mother gradually succumbed to cyberpsychosis, partially as a result of the stress, and partially due to the large amount of implants that she had received to maintain and advance her career in Zetatech.

The two teens struggled to take care of their mother, whose condition worsened despite the pricey medicine that they bought. Nick especially became increasingly desperate to treat and theoretically cure his mother's condition. By the time that he was twenty and Cassiana was eighteen, the pair enlisted the help of CommPar to kidnap a pair of low-level Zetatech employees who they believed could help alleviate their mother's condition. To the surprise of no one except the siblings, the employees were unable to help. Before they could be released, a retaliatory strike by Zetatech in conjunction with the local Badges resulted in Nick's death and Cassiana being severely wounded, receiving severe, permanent burns on much of her body, losing both legs, an arm, and the function of a number of organs.

One of CommPar's major industries in Chicago was the illegal smuggling and distribution of cybernetic implants. When they discovered Cassiana and a few others still alive following Zetatech's retaliation, they patched them up. Cassiana especially received a large amount of treatment to remain alive and return to a fairly normal state of operation following the incident. However, when her mother learned of Nick's death, she threw herself out of their apartment window, ending her own life.

Walking away with survivor's guilt over her brother and a permanent debt to CommPar, Cassiana became heavily involved with the gang. Simultaneously rising through the ranks and becoming increasingly hateful of her own humanity's weakness, she became obsessed with CommPar's "ideology". CommPar, also known as the Communist Party of America - Chicago Chapter, nominally subscribed to a Marxist-Leninist doctrine of total social and economic equality: a popular sentiment in a world dominated by class divides and law-abusing corporations. As the organization was forced out of the ballot boxes and onto the street through corporate foul play, CommPar's leaders began paying lip service to the ideology as a matter of survival, emphasising the use of the colour red and the hammer and sickle as symbols of the gang rather than the ideology behind it. They began focusing on illegal activities such as smuggling and the drug trade to ensure a steady flow of funds to protect their own and ensure that the corps couldn't wipe them out. But along the way, profit superseded ideology.

But that didn't stop O'Rourke, whose understanding of communism was limited to "tearing down corporate control" and "equality for the people", from becoming a vehement ideologue. During the next five years she spent in Chicago she quickly rose through the ranks of CommPar, investing most of the money she made back into her own body, gradually abandoning what she called her "useless meat", until, when she was twenty three, she underwent a full-body cyborgization, transferring her brain into a completely robotic body.

Following her transformation, she became ruthless in her quest to "destroy corporate control". Taking up the moniker "Red Guard" and forming an elite group of gang members known as the "Shock Army", she became CommPar's premier netrunner, ultimately becoming head of CommPar's Net Division, as well as the leader of the Shock Army. For two years she pursued the domination of Chicago's criminal underworld by CommPar in the hopes that, once they stabilise their position as a criminal syndicate, they would then be able to work on the systematic destruction of corporations in Chicago. But as CommPar expanded, O'Rourke noticed the leadership's disinterest in attacking corporations. When she was twenty six, she undertook an unauthorised raid of an Adraka convoy heading into Chicago. Despite putting up no resistance, Red Guard had both the driver and the security complement killed.

The provocation of Adraka Robotics was a massive setback for CommPar. For years, the gang had secretly relied on Adraka not just turning a blind eye, but actively aiding their stealing and smuggling of Cyberware to the black market to maintain a profit despite their massive profit losses and buy-outs. Adraka, debilitated as they were following numerous conflicts with other corps, still acted as a corporation with legal protection - that protection extended to extrajudicial retaliation.

A brief but bloody street war broke out between CommPar and Adraka's bought-out allies, but it quickly subsided as the sides came to a compromise: CommPar would make regular "anonymous donations" to Adraka's income every year, and O'Rourke, known as "Red Guard'' to Adraka, was to be eliminated. In return, Adraka would remain complicit in CommPar's smuggling and distribution network in Chicago.

Shortly after the deal, O'Rourke was invited to a "party congress" - in reality an attempt to kill her - but she narrowly escaped following a tip-off by an old friend, Thomas Calhoun. O'Rourke gathered up a number of her own loyalists, mostly drawn from her Shock Army, in an attempt to wrest leadership of CommPar away from those who had made a deal in exchange for her life. Donning the title "Red Army Faction", a second shorter, and even bloodier street war broke out. However, the attempt was unsuccessful - a move of desperation that would ultimately result in the death of a number of O'Rourke's friends. Facing defeat and certain death if she stayed in Chicago, she gathered up a small group of her Red Army Faction members and went west - to Cascadia, where she believed she could start her struggle over in a fresh environment.

O'Rourke's idealism got her to Cascadia, but only just. Shortly after her arrival in the city, her Red Army Faction began to fall apart as financial realities began to overtake the group. Revolutionary missions were foregone for paying jobs, and where money was once rare, it became plentiful as the experienced RAF members handily outperformed their competition. As money began flowing in, O'Rourke and the others soon set their ideals second to their profit. As cushy apartments, luxurious food, and pricey guns became the norm, each member of the RAF slowly went their own way as independent mercenaries.

Now, as an independent merc and netrunner, O'Rourke's forged a reputation as a dependable, if not a little pricey mercenary. Cassiana, over the course of half a year, enough Eurodollars to afford a comfortable apartment. Since then, she spends most of her days either working on contracts or hunting for them. During the nights, she can usually be found trawling the city's nightlife; from clubs and bars to overnight-only clothing stores, Cassiana rarely sleeps before the sun rises.

DO NOT REMOVE: 2183

Accepted.

Mandicoria wrote:
    Name: Amélie Gauthier
    Aliases: Biker
    Gender: Female
    Age: 26
    Appearance:
    She stands at an above average 6'0. her body itself is fit, well maintained, and quite muscular to back up the constant heavy hitting she does. Can't be a fighter if you ain't in shape.

    Her Face
    She wears her biker outfit whenever on the job.

    Goals: Be free or die trying.
    Cyberware/Bioware:
    Circulatory:
    Syn-Lungs
    Blood Pump
    Adrenaline Booster

    Skeletal:
    Dense Marrow
    Microrotors
    Bionic Lungs
    Microvibration Generator

    OS:
    Biodyne Berserk

    Immune:
    Pain Editor

    Nervous:
    Maneuvering System


    Equipment:
    Melee:
    Machete
    Butcher's Cleaver
    Throwing Knives

    Ranged:
    Militech M-10AF Lexington

    Job: Hired gun.
    Backstory:

    Born from a well-off Quebecois family that immigrated over to Cascadia decades ago. Amélie's had a better position than most would starting off in life. Considering the rampant squalor of most of the population worldwide. But one thing that was a constant for most of her early life was on how much of a failure she was on a personal level, and to her own family. With her ALMOST failing out of schooling, and preferring to simply live an almost reclusive lifestyle. Where she would just smoke weed all day, then go out and having sex with whatever degenerate friends she had left in her life. Needless to say she didn't have very good relations with the rest of her family. As a matter of fact her family relationship got so bad they practically just forced her to move out. She was lucky though, they at least kept paying bills and giving her enough money to continue that lifestyle. All at the low cost of never talking to them again.

    Life was good when she moved out. Yet there was something missing from it all. She had enough money to live on her own for potentially the rest of her life, sure, but she felt this... restriction with her life. Sure she was free to continue with her outright hedonistic lifestyle, but she was never as free as she could be. She had to pay rent even if she could save up the money to buy the damn apartment, but why should she restrict herself to doing these things? Why should she HAVE to comply with others who think they hold some sort of "power" over her. Hell she was just as restrained as she was when she was with her family, if not more so. No offer of escape.

    That was until she found out about the seedy underworld of Cascadia. Getting some new friends through her old ones, and most importantly. Setting up a new career for herself. She had the money to get the gear, and she already stayed physically fit enough to fit the work. Granted it was for superficial purposes rather than practical, but it helped. All it took was a bit of commitment, and that's exactly what she had. With her taking contract work as hired muscle, hired guns, etc. for the past few years now. Only getting better at her craft as time flew on by. With her feeling even more free and excited with each job she took, and every life she extinguished. Her lifestyle at home would stay the same, but with these jobs it was perfect.

    Yet not all is good with her. With time passing by, she'd become more and more bold. Bound to get on someone's radar, or do something horribly stupid to fuck up her deal. She doesn't give a shit about that though, not like she's gonna live past 30 anyways.
    DO NOT REMOVE: 2183

Accepted.
Awards:
Tie Winner: Most Involved in P2TM, 2016
Winner: Best Crime RP, 2016

An Intro to Anowa

User avatar
Brettenwald
Senator
 
Posts: 3868
Founded: May 03, 2019
Father Knows Best State

Postby Brettenwald » Fri Feb 26, 2021 9:01 am

    Name: Petra Reed
    Aliases: Athena, Pete/Petey to her friends
    Gender: Female
    Age: 25
    Appearance:
    Standing an androgynous 5 feet 10 inches and weighing in at about 150 pounds, Petra's lean build isn't exactly going to strike fear into anyone. She's pretty fit, though, and what she lacks in sheer size and strength she can make up for in agility and being a small target. Her neck-length brown hair is usually just there and not styled or anything, though she does keep it back with a headband when she's working in her shop or wearing her helmet. She kept her eyes green when she had her implants put in.
    Image

    Strapped in, loaded up and ready to kick ass, she gains a couple of inches in height and presents a significantly more formidable appearance:
    Image


    Goals:
    Short-term:
    • Get acquainted with either Marcus Smith or Kakashi Kiryu since she's getting tired of sitting at her workbench all day and itching to get back in action, keep her bank account in the black, generally stay alive and healthy.
    Long-term:
    • Don't get flatlined, move to a somewhat nicer part of this shithole, keep doing what she loves. She's also kinda interested in finding the lost IEC container, but that's equal parts pipe dream and avarice. Going legit with her engineering work would be nice, but she knows she doesn't have the qualifications to go corporate plus she'd hate the stress & rigid organizational structure anyway.

    Cyberware/Bioware:
    • Muscle and bone reinforcement
    • Optic implants in both eyes with anti-dazzle, night vision, video recording and thermal imaging capabilities
    • Ear implants with audio recording functionality as well as a Bakumatsu dialect chip and a built-in radio
    • Subdermal armor all over
    • Biotechnica Neo Lungs and heart monitoring implant

    Equipment:
    Weaponry:
    Her beloved Tsunami Nekomata sniper rifle gets stored in a secret compartment in her apartment unless she's on an assassination job. She keeps a Militech m10-AF Lexington pistol, a Militech taser with a modified trigger mechanism and computerized targeting system so it won't fire if it's in its holster or aimed at her (you don't want to fry your own cybernetics, just other people's) and a pair of Jagdkommando tri-blade knives concealed on her for everyday work and general protection.
    Tools and stuff:
    In addition to her everyday weapons, she's probably got these on her on any given day:
    • A small soldering iron and a compact tool kit for on-the-go maintenance
    • A set of lock picking tools in case she needs to break into somewhere on a job
    • A compact first aid kit
    • One or two spare ammo clips for the Lexington
    Exoskeleton:
    Designed and built by her from only the finest black-market Army surplus power armor parts, Petra's exoskeleton gives her a major boost in physical capability, not to mention intimidation. She can lift up to 400 pounds, jump farther and higher while landings take less of a toll on her, run faster, and hit significantly harder. The downside is it's a pain in the ass to get on and off quickly so she usually only wears it on jobs, but the strength and power are worth it. The suit doesn't currently have any armor panels but she's designing those for the future, she wears body armor in the meantime. She's also got a helmet attached to it with augmented reality displays on the inside, interfaces to her optic and ear implants, LIDAR sensors and cameras so she has a pair of eyes in the back of her head, a breathing mask with air filters and a voice modulator. It's controlled through an electrode link like a 'trode netrunning connection.

    Job: Indie hired gun, currently in between clients and doing electronics repair to make ends meet.

    Backstory:
    Brought up in one of Vancouver's Beav Central corporate neighborhoods by a pair of Biotechnica corpses, Petra's childhood was perfectly normal and utterly boring in every way... until she got into cyberware engineering in her late teens. Displaying a natural gift for all things mechanical and electronic, she started making money on the side by doing repair and design work in concert with a ripperdoc's apprentice who just happened to be a member of a gang called the Black Suns (and her boyfriend.) Despite its eventual fracture and disbanding after the death of its leader, the taste she'd gotten of underground life made her want more. Much more. She started hanging out with the wrong kind of crowd whose tastes eventually morphed from graffiti, vandalism and car theft to armed robbery, drug dealing, and protection rackets. Discovering formerly unknown prowess as a markswoman, she became the group's go-to sharpshooter in addition to maintaining whatever cyberware members needed her to. She doesn't go in for too much chrome herself, though, preferring to spend her hard-earned eurodollars only on stuff that helps her work and occasionally modifying it to work with her self-made stuff.

    Internecine power squabbles broke them up too, but she managed to stay neutral and avoid retribution before (or perhaps because of) packing up and moving out of her old turf. These days she hangs out in a workshop and apartment in Seattle's old Industrial District down by the railyard, repairing cyberware for any client regardless of gang affiliation and doing design and fabrication work for herself when she's not employed by anyone looking for her less legal services. In her free time, she likes to do a little casual 'trode netrunning, maybe go out and do a little graffiti art, take photographs or just hang with friends. She doesn't owe anyone a damn thing, she's got a bed to sleep in with a roof over it, she's living life on the edge, she's making decent scratch and she doesn't have a bounty on her head that she's aware of: all things considered, Petey's pretty happy.
    DO NOT REMOVE: 2183
Last edited by Brettenwald on Fri Feb 26, 2021 12:44 pm, edited 2 times in total.
BRETTENWALD
Your friendly neighborhood chonky Nordic-German "constitutional" monarchy, featuring vast areas of unspoilt wilderness, pagan religion, and a society on the verge of a watershed moment after decades of militaristic isolationism have almost finished crumbling into dust.
NS Stats not used, factbook completion will occur about when hell freezes over, and this nation is basically what happens at 3 AM when I overdose on Godspeed You! Black Emperor and Game of Thrones.

User avatar
Anowa
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 16984
Founded: Jul 29, 2014
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Anowa » Sat Feb 27, 2021 8:54 pm

Brettenwald wrote:
    Name: Petra Reed
    Aliases: Athena, Pete/Petey to her friends
    Gender: Female
    Age: 25
    Appearance:
    Standing an androgynous 5 feet 10 inches and weighing in at about 150 pounds, Petra's lean build isn't exactly going to strike fear into anyone. She's pretty fit, though, and what she lacks in sheer size and strength she can make up for in agility and being a small target. Her neck-length brown hair is usually just there and not styled or anything, though she does keep it back with a headband when she's working in her shop or wearing her helmet. She kept her eyes green when she had her implants put in.
    Strapped in, loaded up and ready to kick ass, she gains a couple of inches in height and presents a significantly more formidable appearance:

    Goals:
    Short-term:
    • Get acquainted with either Marcus Smith or Kakashi Kiryu since she's getting tired of sitting at her workbench all day and itching to get back in action, keep her bank account in the black, generally stay alive and healthy.
    Long-term:
    • Don't get flatlined, move to a somewhat nicer part of this shithole, keep doing what she loves. She's also kinda interested in finding the lost IEC container, but that's equal parts pipe dream and avarice. Going legit with her engineering work would be nice, but she knows she doesn't have the qualifications to go corporate plus she'd hate the stress & rigid organizational structure anyway.

    Cyberware/Bioware:
    • Muscle and bone reinforcement
    • Optic implants in both eyes with anti-dazzle, night vision, video recording and thermal imaging capabilities
    • Ear implants with audio recording functionality as well as a Bakumatsu dialect chip and a built-in radio
    • Subdermal armor all over
    • Biotechnica Neo Lungs and heart monitoring implant

    Equipment:
    Weaponry:
    Her beloved Tsunami Nekomata sniper rifle gets stored in a secret compartment in her apartment unless she's on an assassination job. She keeps a Militech m10-AF Lexington pistol, a Militech taser with a modified trigger mechanism and computerized targeting system so it won't fire if it's in its holster or aimed at her (you don't want to fry your own cybernetics, just other people's) and a pair of Jagdkommando tri-blade knives concealed on her for everyday work and general protection.
    Tools and stuff:
    In addition to her everyday weapons, she's probably got these on her on any given day:
    • A small soldering iron and a compact tool kit for on-the-go maintenance
    • A set of lock picking tools in case she needs to break into somewhere on a job
    • A compact first aid kit
    • One or two spare ammo clips for the Lexington
    Exoskeleton:
    Designed and built by her from only the finest black-market Army surplus power armor parts, Petra's exoskeleton gives her a major boost in physical capability, not to mention intimidation. She can lift up to 400 pounds, jump farther and higher while landings take less of a toll on her, run faster, and hit significantly harder. The downside is it's a pain in the ass to get on and off quickly so she usually only wears it on jobs, but the strength and power are worth it. The suit doesn't currently have any armor panels but she's designing those for the future, she wears body armor in the meantime. She's also got a helmet attached to it with augmented reality displays on the inside, interfaces to her optic and ear implants, LIDAR sensors and cameras so she has a pair of eyes in the back of her head, a breathing mask with air filters and a voice modulator. It's controlled through an electrode link like a 'trode netrunning connection.

    Job: Indie hired gun, currently in between clients and doing electronics repair to make ends meet.

    Backstory:
    Brought up in one of Vancouver's Beav Central corporate neighborhoods by a pair of Biotechnica corpses, Petra's childhood was perfectly normal and utterly boring in every way... until she got into cyberware engineering in her late teens. Displaying a natural gift for all things mechanical and electronic, she started making money on the side by doing repair and design work in concert with a ripperdoc's apprentice who just happened to be a member of a gang called the Black Suns (and her boyfriend.) Despite its eventual fracture and disbanding after the death of its leader, the taste she'd gotten of underground life made her want more. Much more. She started hanging out with the wrong kind of crowd whose tastes eventually morphed from graffiti, vandalism and car theft to armed robbery, drug dealing, and protection rackets. Discovering formerly unknown prowess as a markswoman, she became the group's go-to sharpshooter in addition to maintaining whatever cyberware members needed her to. She doesn't go in for too much chrome herself, though, preferring to spend her hard-earned eurodollars only on stuff that helps her work and occasionally modifying it to work with her self-made stuff.

    Internecine power squabbles broke them up too, but she managed to stay neutral and avoid retribution before (or perhaps because of) packing up and moving out of her old turf. These days she hangs out in a workshop and apartment in Seattle's old Industrial District down by the railyard, repairing cyberware for any client regardless of gang affiliation and doing design and fabrication work for herself when she's not employed by anyone looking for her less legal services. In her free time, she likes to do a little casual 'trode netrunning, maybe go out and do a little graffiti art, take photographs or just hang with friends. She doesn't owe anyone a damn thing, she's got a bed to sleep in with a roof over it, she's living life on the edge, she's making decent scratch and she doesn't have a bounty on her head that she's aware of: all things considered, Petey's pretty happy.
    DO NOT REMOVE: 2183

Accepted.
Awards:
Tie Winner: Most Involved in P2TM, 2016
Winner: Best Crime RP, 2016

An Intro to Anowa

User avatar
Anowa
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 16984
Founded: Jul 29, 2014
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Anowa » Sat Feb 27, 2021 8:55 pm

IC should be up sometime in the next few days
Awards:
Tie Winner: Most Involved in P2TM, 2016
Winner: Best Crime RP, 2016

An Intro to Anowa

User avatar
Brettenwald
Senator
 
Posts: 3868
Founded: May 03, 2019
Father Knows Best State

Postby Brettenwald » Sat Feb 27, 2021 9:34 pm

Anowa wrote:IC should be up sometime in the next few days

Woo! Can't wait!
BRETTENWALD
Your friendly neighborhood chonky Nordic-German "constitutional" monarchy, featuring vast areas of unspoilt wilderness, pagan religion, and a society on the verge of a watershed moment after decades of militaristic isolationism have almost finished crumbling into dust.
NS Stats not used, factbook completion will occur about when hell freezes over, and this nation is basically what happens at 3 AM when I overdose on Godspeed You! Black Emperor and Game of Thrones.

User avatar
Mandicoria
Senator
 
Posts: 4001
Founded: Sep 10, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Mandicoria » Sat Feb 27, 2021 9:57 pm

Ready to crank out the hotline miami soundtrack. 8)
very bitter left wing trash. also a proud SRA member
feel free to telegram, i don't care
What if Humanity was as Important as it thought it was... But it turned out to not be a very good thing.
also i rip off warhammer, DOOM, and halo unapologetically
Highly suggest listening to this when reading anything I post about this nation.
A [1.18] civilization, according to this index.

User avatar
Brettenwald
Senator
 
Posts: 3868
Founded: May 03, 2019
Father Knows Best State

Postby Brettenwald » Sat Feb 27, 2021 10:13 pm

Mandicoria wrote:Ready to crank out the hotline miami soundtrack. 8)

I've got Depeche Mode locked and loaded over here.
BRETTENWALD
Your friendly neighborhood chonky Nordic-German "constitutional" monarchy, featuring vast areas of unspoilt wilderness, pagan religion, and a society on the verge of a watershed moment after decades of militaristic isolationism have almost finished crumbling into dust.
NS Stats not used, factbook completion will occur about when hell freezes over, and this nation is basically what happens at 3 AM when I overdose on Godspeed You! Black Emperor and Game of Thrones.

User avatar
Anowa
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 16984
Founded: Jul 29, 2014
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Anowa » Tue Mar 02, 2021 1:02 am

Awards:
Tie Winner: Most Involved in P2TM, 2016
Winner: Best Crime RP, 2016

An Intro to Anowa

User avatar
Transoxthraxia
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 22055
Founded: Jan 19, 2013
Benevolent Dictatorship

Postby Transoxthraxia » Tue Mar 02, 2021 10:10 am

Nice, looking forward to getting a post up soon
Where must we go, we who wander this wasteland, in search for our better selves?
In Egypt's sandy silence, all alone,
Stands a gigantic Leg, which far off throws
The only shadow that the Desert knows:—
"I am great OZYMANDIAS," saith the stone,
"The King of Kings; this mighty City shows
"The wonders of my hand." The City's gone,
Nought but the Leg remaining to disclose
The site of this forgotten Babylon.

We wonder, and some Hunter may express
Wonder like ours, when thro' the wilderness
Where London stood, holding the Wolf in chace,
He meets some fragment huge, and stops to guess
What powerful but unrecorded race
Once dwelt in that annihilated place.
The Nuclear Fist wrote:Transoxthraxia confirmed for shit taste

User avatar
Mandicoria
Senator
 
Posts: 4001
Founded: Sep 10, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Mandicoria » Tue Mar 02, 2021 2:40 pm

Will be getting my post up later today, or tonight, or tomorrow. Depends if i'm still gonna be busy ;-;
Last edited by Mandicoria on Tue Mar 02, 2021 5:01 pm, edited 1 time in total.
very bitter left wing trash. also a proud SRA member
feel free to telegram, i don't care
What if Humanity was as Important as it thought it was... But it turned out to not be a very good thing.
also i rip off warhammer, DOOM, and halo unapologetically
Highly suggest listening to this when reading anything I post about this nation.
A [1.18] civilization, according to this index.

User avatar
Brettenwald
Senator
 
Posts: 3868
Founded: May 03, 2019
Father Knows Best State

Postby Brettenwald » Tue Mar 02, 2021 9:53 pm

First of probably many dumb questions: how would I get Petra in contact with a fixer? Just walking in to Marcus' casino or Kiryu's internet café and asking for a job seems kinda rude, but maybe that's just my IRL social anxiety coming out. I don't want to piss off someone with that kind of status in the underworld.
BRETTENWALD
Your friendly neighborhood chonky Nordic-German "constitutional" monarchy, featuring vast areas of unspoilt wilderness, pagan religion, and a society on the verge of a watershed moment after decades of militaristic isolationism have almost finished crumbling into dust.
NS Stats not used, factbook completion will occur about when hell freezes over, and this nation is basically what happens at 3 AM when I overdose on Godspeed You! Black Emperor and Game of Thrones.

User avatar
Anowa
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 16984
Founded: Jul 29, 2014
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Anowa » Tue Mar 02, 2021 11:12 pm

Brettenwald wrote:First of probably many dumb questions: how would I get Petra in contact with a fixer? Just walking in to Marcus' casino or Kiryu's internet café and asking for a job seems kinda rude, but maybe that's just my IRL social anxiety coming out. I don't want to piss off someone with that kind of status in the underworld.

Well, typically it would be a system of "They call you, you don't call them."

Most of the up and comers would go to a place like the Velvet Staircase given it's status as a pretty reliable neutral ground, to at least make some contact with others in the underground, who in turn might have connections with said fixers. Think of it like Cascadia's equivalent of Afterlife in Night City.
Awards:
Tie Winner: Most Involved in P2TM, 2016
Winner: Best Crime RP, 2016

An Intro to Anowa

User avatar
Brettenwald
Senator
 
Posts: 3868
Founded: May 03, 2019
Father Knows Best State

Postby Brettenwald » Tue Mar 02, 2021 11:47 pm

Anowa wrote:
Brettenwald wrote:First of probably many dumb questions: how would I get Petra in contact with a fixer? Just walking in to Marcus' casino or Kiryu's internet café and asking for a job seems kinda rude, but maybe that's just my IRL social anxiety coming out. I don't want to piss off someone with that kind of status in the underworld.

Well, typically it would be a system of "They call you, you don't call them."

Most of the up and comers would go to a place like the Velvet Staircase given it's status as a pretty reliable neutral ground, to at least make some contact with others in the underground, who in turn might have connections with said fixers. Think of it like Cascadia's equivalent of Afterlife in Night City.

OK, cool. Petra's based in Seattle, so I'll just have her hop on Cascadia's equivalent to NCART and crash on a friend's couch in Vancouver for a day or two to hang around the Staircase looking for work if that's all right with you.
Last edited by Brettenwald on Tue Mar 02, 2021 11:48 pm, edited 1 time in total.
BRETTENWALD
Your friendly neighborhood chonky Nordic-German "constitutional" monarchy, featuring vast areas of unspoilt wilderness, pagan religion, and a society on the verge of a watershed moment after decades of militaristic isolationism have almost finished crumbling into dust.
NS Stats not used, factbook completion will occur about when hell freezes over, and this nation is basically what happens at 3 AM when I overdose on Godspeed You! Black Emperor and Game of Thrones.

User avatar
Anowa
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 16984
Founded: Jul 29, 2014
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Anowa » Wed Mar 03, 2021 2:03 am

Brettenwald wrote:
Anowa wrote:Well, typically it would be a system of "They call you, you don't call them."

Most of the up and comers would go to a place like the Velvet Staircase given it's status as a pretty reliable neutral ground, to at least make some contact with others in the underground, who in turn might have connections with said fixers. Think of it like Cascadia's equivalent of Afterlife in Night City.

OK, cool. Petra's based in Seattle, so I'll just have her hop on Cascadia's equivalent to NCART and crash on a friend's couch in Vancouver for a day or two to hang around the Staircase looking for work if that's all right with you.

Sounds good.
Awards:
Tie Winner: Most Involved in P2TM, 2016
Winner: Best Crime RP, 2016

An Intro to Anowa

User avatar
Mandicoria
Senator
 
Posts: 4001
Founded: Sep 10, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Mandicoria » Wed Mar 03, 2021 7:22 pm

After much delay, post is up. *dab*
very bitter left wing trash. also a proud SRA member
feel free to telegram, i don't care
What if Humanity was as Important as it thought it was... But it turned out to not be a very good thing.
also i rip off warhammer, DOOM, and halo unapologetically
Highly suggest listening to this when reading anything I post about this nation.
A [1.18] civilization, according to this index.

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