[OOC] Reference & Characters

Hollow glade · Jan 23, 2022

Hey hey!, welcome to Life on the Edge's OOC Thread. A slice of life roleplay set in Night City, heavily inspired by the Cyberpunk Red TTRPG and Cyberpunk 2077 videogame. Live the life of a mercenary, an Edgerunner, on the fringe of society, where many engage in illegal or semi-legal acts or life-styles. One day we go complete a dangerous job as a team, another it's groceries. We navigate the complexities of living on the Edge, bothersome neighbors and keeping up with the latest cyberware implants. And we do it together.

You don't need to have played the games, but you should be willing to read up on lore and other necessary topics in order to get the most out of the experience!

In this story, I play as a character as well as a gamemaster. I'll get us jobs and keep us busy as we go from a makeshift group of gonks to having a permanent private booth at the Afterlife. I'll describe the settings and handle NPC's. I will provide context, maps, imagery, lore, links, anything I can and consider necessary. I'll be there for you in an active group DM here in the forum as well as on discord(Estraven#0244). If you have any questions, suggestions or concerns you can let me know. I'll be happy to assist. (This includes triggers, I want to have a realistic, cyberpunk flavored setting, not be an asshole to my players. Let me know if you have any, please)

This roleplay will be gritty, violent and dark at times, serious and heavy topics may come up often.
MATURE CONTENT WARNING.

As a cyberpunk, you grab technology by the throat and hang on.
You're not afraid to "0 out" the newest in "enhancements", cybertech and bioengineering.

You've got interface plugs in your wrists,
weapons in your arms, lasers in your eyes, and biochip programs in your brain.

You become the car you drive, the aerodyne you fly, the guns you shoot.
You dive headfirst into computer systems, using your mind to hurtle at lightspeed down the rabbit holes of NET Architectures.
With cyborg-fingers you pick computer locks; with enhanced senses, you see into the Future.

Cyberpunk is also an attitude.
You wear the most "in" clothes, know the right people, and follow the right crowds.
You plan your crimes in the most select clubs and bars;
your enemies are Corporate armies, cyborg biker gangs, power-armored assassins, and computer-wired Netrunners.
Your weapons are nerve, street smarts, bravado, and the Minami 10 smartgun on your hip.

Are you ready now? Of course you are.
You can't wait.
Now You're Cyberpunk.

Cyberpunk RED ©: the roleplaying game of the dark future Pondsmith
R. Talsorian Games Inc - 2020 Pg, 21.

We will play through different scenarios, and come out of them walking calmly, hacking through or guns blazing. It all depends on our actions. There will be collaboration, love, backstabs, dynamic battles. There will be no dice, and so I must be able to trust everyone to write coherent combat scenes. Not everyone can ace it all the time. We'll ace some jobs and fuck up others. That's life, in and out of the Edge.

The experience will be tailored to the characters we make. Like you'll see below, there's different types of mercs. They condition the kinds of jobs we can take, how much we get paid and whether we're able to pay rent each month. Jobs may come through my character, or you can learn about them from your environment. Pay attention! I'm looking for a varied group of many talents.

Your characters are going to see an ad mine puts up on the net and on the streets, looking for a group of 3 to 4 mercs to share a small appartment with and to work together as a team. You will all benefit from a higher quality lifestyle, better paying gigs, shared contacts. He's got some rules, and he wants a one on one interview before you're in for sure. Can't trust anyone in this city, and we've all got enemies. 5 years or 5 minutes into this life. Think of characters who'd be interested in this opportunity. For example, someone who always follows the rules and is afraid to break the law wouldn't answer. Neither would someone who's doing very well by themself and needs 0 help.

UPDATE 25/04/2024

As a second group moves in, my character will set you up with a different guy for a living situation. It's still the same prompt, but we will have two separate groups at least when it comes to living. They may work together or split into teams!.

Please remember I'm always open to suggestions from my fellow players, communication is key in order to have fun!.

It's the year 2073 in the Free City of Night City (NC), an autonomous city on the border between North and South California, on the Pacific coast of North America. It is a modern multicultural metropolis of the 21st-century, overrun by corporations, corruption, organized crime and gang violence. It was established at the head of Del Coronado Bay. Founded by Richard Night, it was known as Coronado City before its renaming in 1998.

It has wide streets and dense urban skyscrapers and megabuildings that are home to millions of residents. It's considered a thrilling and exciting location to visit, as well as an interesting and vibrant place to live for those of means, and a hellscape to the city's disenfranchised; its world famous slogan is "The City of Dreams", originally changed from "City on the Edge of Tomorrow." By 2077, Night City was voted the "Worst place to live in America".

Link to relevant street slang

Primary view of the map

Extra link to an interactive map

Mercenaries (Mercs) are hired people that work for clients to do any kind of job. They usually work with fixers as their middle men.

Cops, or Lawmen can range from private detectives, to beat cops, to government agents.
Corporates (Corpos), or Executives (Execs), are the fancy dressing, unprincipled employees of corporations, wealthy and persuasive.
Netrunners are hackers, with a cybernetically augmented interface system implantes in their body. With a brain-computer interface implants, they roam the Internet.
Nomads were once corporate wage-slaves, who got fired and blackballed from employment, and now they roam the badlands as travellers and motor-gangs.
Rockerboys are rebellious musicians who use music to fight authority. They are like '80s punk rockers who look down on corporate as the traitors to the craft.
Solos are hired hit-men and bodyguards. Due to their professionalism and constant training, they have the ability to perceive danger and notice traps.
Techies (or Techs) range from technicians to cybernetic specialists. They are usually underground techies, who do "off-the-record" work.
Medtech/Ripperdocs: Your cousin down the street is just like you, but he's a Medtechie. In a world where half of medicine is related to mechanics, it makes sense.

The biggest, baddest gangs in Night City

They occupy mostly the Watson district and northern Kabuki. Maelstrom are known for violence and being obsessed with cybertechnologies. Their desire to constantly improve themselves has turned most of them into less human and more cyborg creatures.

The Animals are about 3000 individuals that occupy a lot of areas of NC, but have no specific isolated turf. They present a high threat and are known for using pain editors, using combat drugs and they often opt to augment their limbs.

The Animals are an aggressive street-fighting gang. They frequently organize ultra-violent raids and illegal underground fights. They often organize and participate in cage fights, duels and all kinds of opportunities to demonstrate their raw power.

The Voodoo Boys are small in numbers, with only around 200ish members. They do not present a high threat on the streets, but are extremely dangerous inside the cyberspace. They occupy Pacifica’s Coastal View normally. Specializing in netrunning they are presumed
to consist primarily of Haitian blood. There is not much proven information about this gang. It is known, though, that they devote themselves to discovering the deep secrets of the Old Net.

Most of the financial income for the Voodoo Boys comes through hacking of databanks and accounts. They constantly violate NetWatch laws and regulations. They also hire themselves out as merc netrunners.

The 6th street gang was founded by old-fashioned American patriots, who saw in themselves as a civil police. They mostly respect other gangs’ turfs, and can be encountered in Santo Domingo and Charter Hill. In the fifty years since its formation, this gang has changed. Today their primary activities and source of income are robbery, extortion, gun smuggling and car stealing. Not so patriotic anymore.

While not very dangerous in general, gang members often equip themselves with cyberoptics, pain editors and health monitors to assist them in their daily activities. They're often seen having bloody conflicts with members of the New Organitskaya.

The Mox is a small gang, consisting of about 200 members. They usually can be found around Lizzie’s bar in Kabuki. They often augment their bodies with optimal camo, cooling systems and cyberlimbs.

The gang was born following the death of Elizabeth Borden. She was an owner of a strip club and a former prostitute. She was known for caring for her girls and treating them fairly and protecting them. The Mox have a long-lasting conflict with the Tygers gang, who killed Lizzie in a revenge-inspired action.

One of the larger gangs in Night City is called the Tyger Claws. Their turf is Westbrook and Watson’s Kabuki. This gang’s approach to business resembles the Japanese yakuza’s one. The gang owns more businesses than any other gang in the whole city.

Abduction and torture are a small portion of the repertoire of the gang’s members’ daily activities and source of income.

The Valentinos is a significant force in Night City. They call Heywood district their home. The majority of the members are of a Mexican heritage. Valentinos openly display their tattoos and religious beliefs. They own many legitimate businesses in NC – restaurants, car shops, nightclubs and more. They also specialize in braindance experiences.

Other relevant gangs

SCAVENGERS

There is much that is unknown about them. They are ruthless lowlife scum with no respect for life and ethics. Scavengers do not follow or obey any specific philosophy. The only thing they care is themselves and making profit.
They can be encountered literally everywhere in Night City.

Assault, abduction, dismemberment and mutilation are the most frequent activities that secure this gang’s regular income. Scavengers are the main supplier of low-end illegal cyberware. You should be very careful if you decide to purchase from them. The piece you buy
may have been just freshly extracted from a poor citizen and there is absolutely no guarantee if that piece of hardware will fit in your body or cause functional issues.

BOZOS

They are a sadistic prankster gang that is almost extinct. But lately there's been rumours of a possible return. All of them are insane
to one degree or another, with about a third of them firmly in the grip of cyberpsychosis. Their bodies are not mere costumes... they have actually been biosculpted to look like clowns. Complete with permanent frowns and long floppy feet.

They will torture or murder people for their own entertainment. They especially enjoy playing on people's fears and anxieties. It is rumored their last leader was a former Arasaka research tech, and that he makes various devices for them. Many Bozos have packed themselves with cyberware. Bozos can occasionally be found in the Net as well.

BRADI BUNCH

The Bunch is a poser gang who use bio–sculpting to look like members of an old sitcom. A small time family posergang, The older "adult" members run the gang, their territory, and protect the runaway children and "children" of the gang, who steal and compete for family support. Membership consists of runaway or orphaned children. Extended families are territorial and protective of their members.

WILD THINGS

There are about one hundred 'dorpher gangs in Night City, sharing drug sources and quick (illegal) ways of raising funds for more drugs. Mostly clones of each other, they burn through their members as fast as their bodies fail.

The Wild Things are distinctive because they are survivors. Initiation is only open to seasoned 'dorphers who have been on the streets for a year with another 'dorpher gang. They've been in some battles in the past, but are not involved in any turf wars at this time. With a
street-tested membership, the Wild Things are bad company; cynical and predatory. They've been around a long time and there's barely a hundred left of them after Militech started culling them. They seem to be done, though.

THE GREYS

They are a nomad gang whose members are people from outside NC, as well as orphaned children. They are what's left of the Aldecaldos after a massive, sudden disappearance.

A small family of tough love, divided in small groups that know the badlands like the backs of their hands. They take guard contracts, smuggle weapons and tech in and out of the city. They try their best to rid the city of Scavengers and what's left of the Wild Things. They're also constantly hunted by corporations and their fellow nomads, The Wraiths.

NEW ORGANITSKAYA

A branch of the original Organitskaya from the New Soviet Union. Tired of petty disputes over the same territory and resources, a few families of the russian Mafia (Aminev, Ikanov, Dubrovsky, Garin) moved across the world and funded this gang around 40 years ago. They rapidly multiplied and reproduced, taking roots. They're known for being all blonde, even if fake, and making ceremonies with blood.

They keep to the most metropolitan areas, and are known to deal with corpos often, playing as their pawns in their feuds. Most other
gangs will shoot them on sight, but there's always a handful more of them. Not even the original families have been eradicated, with or without a turf.

RED CHROME LEGION

Militant neo-fascist, otherwise known as "skinheads", individuals, focused on terrorizing others. Almost extinct as they've been hunted by almost every other gang for years.

STEEL VAQUEROS

A Nomad Pack whose ragtag convoys make the coastal highway run from the Santa Cruz agriplots to the southern cities. They take in anyone who displays skill, dependability, and who can keep up. Smart and relatively honest, they have supply deals with several groups trying to smuggle tech and people in and out of NC.

THE RECKONERS

The Reckoners are one of the many apocalyptic cults that have sprung up since the war. They roam the streets, preaching the coming
Harvest of Souls, recruiting from the homeless, and looking for donations, often taken from your unconscious body. A few are serious crazies who want to evoke the End Times right now with blood and C4.

THE WRAITHS

They are the largest group of Raffen Shiv, or rogue nomads. This group mostly travels at night, preying on the sleeping and unwary.
Their leader is named Dogkiller, and is rumored to wear clothing of human skin. They have a long history of frequent conflict and warring with the other nomad groups The Wraiths also have a custom near 1000 horsepower car that they roam the Badlands in called the Reaver.

While nomads usually operate in a judicial grey area, the Wraiths ignore the law. They are vicious as well as aggressive and have dominated the areas surrounding Night City. They raid small villages as well as attack small groups of nomads and attack weakly guarded corp transports. Cyberware and other equipment used by the gang include reflex boosters, pain editors, heavily modified vehicles, and possibly military-grade equipment.

The Corporations (Megacorporations or MegaCorps) are giant, multinational companies that dominate the Cyberpunk world. They can range from simple media corporations to worldwide security firms, the only thing you have to remember is that they will kill anyone that stands in their way. The corps in this world are often seen as sovereign nations of themselves, and use their power to change the world around them.

A helpful link to all corporations.
This is here in case you're interested and mainly for the lists, in case we want to reference specific ones.

A link to Cyberware from the 2077 videogame
Always consult the DM or ask in the OOC chat group if you need help!, some pieces might be incompatible, plus there's more knowledge to be shared from the TTRPG's fashionware and cyberware tables

This is a multi-thread RP with an IC group chat, our appartment and then the different city districts. Feel free to ask ANY questions, anytime.

RULES

All site rules apply regardless of the mature tags
Must have availability to post 1-2 times a week
No metagaming, powerplaying, etc.
No minimum post length, but keep it appropiate to the scene

UPDATE 25/04/2024

No AI writing
No AI generated images

Me, @Machina Somnium
@Script
@TheZanta
?????
?????

3 free bunk beds and a sweet chance | 15:56 by A.I. Bunny:

Hard working merc with a brand new appartment in Watson, mega-building 11. Looking to form a merry band of fellow mercs. We all win, so don't be a gonk and call. 4 people are better than one, see where I'm going with this?, Bigger home, better weapons and tech, more contacts... more safety when we're working. Come on, who doesn't want that? We split the edds fairly, pay rent, get big, get fucking rich.

Corpos, fuck off. Medias and Rockerpeople, I don't like you but we could talk about it. Fixers... you have better places to be lol, and you wouldn't want to live with your boss either. Ripperdocs, you can use up all the hot water and I'll never even look at u wrong.

Megabuildings are the same as they've always been. Here's some general schematics I've made, ignore the measurements because they're wrong.

> Sent at |02:51| from A.I. Bunny<

Handle: Bunny, Bun for friends, bun-bun for In/outputs.

Role/s: A hot mess, but I try to specialize in stealth related jobs. Quickhacking solo with fun techy knowledge.

Abilities: I'm good at scouting, blinding gonks to take them out, quickhacking, stealing and killing.

***
Gear:

When it comes to Iron, lately I've been packing a fun HJKE-11 YUKIMURA smart pistol, Overwatch sniper rifle that I take with it's an outdoor job and is silenced, and a M251S AJAX AR with thermal damage. I have wolvers for close combat, and a smart link ofc.

Then there's the cyber part. Interface plugs, STEPHENSON TECH MK.2 Cyberdeck (5 slots, Ping, Memory Wipe, Reboot Optics, Weapon Glitch, Synapse Burnout is my usual build but I shuffle according to the job), the cheaper kerenzikov, 2 MK2 Kiroshi optics with chyron, color shift, and microOptics. Amplification in the ears, and reinforced tendons in both legs. I got some light subdermal armor after this last one, because extra jumps come with extra bruises, won't stop most bullets though.

Cyberware:

A lot of fashionware, including a biomonitor, light tattoos and EMP threading. You don't need all the deets on that part.

Neural link, Cybereyes, cyberaudio suite, a standard cyberhand and cyberlegs with realskin covering.

***
Where did you come from?:

Got thrown into the streets of Watson, and stayed between its southern districts, the center, and japan town mostly. Really I've moved around a lot. Then it's been odd jobs and gangs, some more humilliating than others, until now. I was living on my own, fucking the (past) landlord, but It's gotten old and I'm making better money as a merc. Hence why I'm looking for chooms. It's sucked a lot, but I've also met a lot of people.

Got any references?: Past landlord will speak wonders of me

, and some motel workers around Kabuki know I'm solid.

What's your dream?: Private booth at the Afterlife, become a filthy rich living legend, and I NEED TO GET LYNX PAWS INSTALLED they're awesome and 85k ;_;

Recent picture: You'll see me in the interview or you won't, lol.

***
Other:
Age: 29
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 127 lbs

I have a BD recorder installed, but it's been deactivated by my past employers, nasal filters that work whenever they fucking like, and very, very rarely decide I don't deserve to live. I've managed. I have room for a chip, but I don't use it, ever. A.I. Bunny is my Agent, by the way.

Congrats. If you're seeing this response It's because you've caught my interest. That and we might be living together. So you deserve to know a bit about me as well.

View attachment 11022

Hollow glade · Jan 28, 2022

Character interviews and more! [OBSOLETE]

Like the compact neighborhood it was, on the vertical, mega building H11 was busy as ever. Close to the top, in apartment number 665, the sound of the projectors and a ventilator were accompanied by footsteps. A person with light skin and lighter hair, dressed in black and blue, walked from room to room. He scanned them thoroughly, looking for imperfections. He’d been cleaning it for days, it smelled like chemicals and the synth udon noodles he’d had for lunch. Most surfaces were impolute and impersonal. The blinds were open to let natural light inside.
There was only some background music now, his belongings inside the lockers of the first bedroom to the left, and the very basics. Impatiently, he waited for his first guest... a little nervous too. There was always a chance It’d be a cyberpsycho with murder tendencies. He must be close, Taro… or Tachi. His information checked out, he seemed pretty capable, and Bunny's agent had come back from the data pool with some fun pictures of him to show. Some were more professional than others. Ms. Hina really had spoken well of him, too. Snakebite had been a bit tricky, but it had all been all good in the end.

Bunny smiled. All and all, they weren’t far in age, and it was a decent option for a roommate that didn’t look too crazy.

His contemplation was interrupted around five minutes later than the time he’d scheduled the interview for, by a metallic rap upon the door. The feed from the hallway camera showed that his first guest had finally arrived. Tachi had stepped back from the doorway and was leaning back on the far wall with his arms crossed, sporting a familiar neon-lined leather jacket that had been a frequent feature of the photos on his socials.

The young edgerunner looked up to make eye contact with the camera with his uncovered eye, flashing a grin and lifting his hand in a small wave.

Well he didn't look like a cyberpsycho, good! The door let out a small buzz before opening. There stood a person just barely taller than Taro was. With a half shaved head otherwise covered by straight white hair that looked like it emitted its own light. He wore a black jacket with some blue fluff around the neck, and tight black pants as well as combat boots.

"Hey handsome." He spoke with a grin, "Why don't you come in and tell me if you go by first, last name or handle?" He said after, leaning against the small kitchen island.

Taro strolled into the apartment, casting his eye around with a curious gleam as he took in the compact but fairly well outfitted space. His gaze eventually came to settle on Bunny, and he returned the grin with a smirk, pacing over and nimbly hopping up to sit on the counter itself, angling himself toward his host.

“Opening with flattery, huh? I like it. Most people call me Tachi, but Taro’s fine too,” he replied, half-quirking an eyebrow. “If you wanna get all personal.”

Well well, this he could work with.

"Preem, Taro it is~" He replied, looking the other up and down.

"Do you want to start with a tour, or do you want to answer a few questions first? 'cuz then I'd rather move to the couch. And if you'd like anything to drink it's either bought from the machines or orange juice. Not synth." With the last part he nodded toward the counter, where there was a jug full of an organge liquid. He'd kept it in the fridge for a bit. Vitamins be damned.

“Fancy,” Taro observed, “don’t mind if I do.” He swivelled around to hop down on the island’s other side and pour himself a glass of OJ, as casually comfortable as if he’d already moved in. “And couch questions sound fine by me,” he added, then gave Bunny an amused look. “Long as there’s not a hidden camera anywhere I oughta worry about.”

He winked and meandered over to the sitting area, trailing a hand along the couch’s back as he went. “Pretty nice place,” he mused. “How’d you come by it, all on your lonesome?”

"I've got friends all over." Said Bunny with a shrug as he went to get a glass of juice for himself. Then he followed Taro to the couch.

"The last tenant was a crazy gonk no one fuckin' liked. A gal I knew talked to a friend of hers… and said I could stay for a bit, get a taste of luxury or some shit. Once I was in, I wasn't fuckin' leaving. So we made a deal. As long as rent is paid and the place is well looked after, they ask no questions. So that's where you come in. Yeah? Was all that backstory real? I gotta ask. It checks out with what the media says, but damn," he whistled, moving to sit comfortably on the couch.

Taro slouched down onto the couch and leaned back into the seat, his gaze drifting away from Bunny toward the ceiling. His smile stayed fixed in place, but there was an almost imperceptible dimming of the good humour in his eye in response to the question. “What can I say? Corps like to keep things in-house sometimes. Sometimes that means their very own home-reared pet mercs. I’d say ‘organic’ too, but…” he held up his right hand and tapped it with the fingers of his left, producing a slightly metallic rapping noise despite the layer of artificial skin. “That’d be a bit of a misnomer.”

He rolled his head to look back at Bunny with a chuckle. “Long story short, I abandoned ship as it sank and took my toys with me. I like working for myself way better. My boss is a hottie.”

Bunny nodded along, listening and adopting a bit more of a professional attitude. For all of a few minutes, really. On the couch, he slipped some of his juice and scooted a bit closer to Taro.

"Can't argue with the truth, had to check on that, though. So let's move on to lighter topics, hm?" He said, with a breathy laugh along with Taro's light chuckle.

"What kind of jobs do you prefer to pick up? I don't know if you've had a chance to read up on the info I sent about myself. It was just today." He said, turning to face the other, sitting with one arm over the back of the couch.

“I took a look,” Taro nodded, the easiness returning to his smile. “Not a bad resume. Glad someone has some net skills, ‘cause you don’t want to rely on mine.” He chuckled again and shrugged. “Security gigs’ve been my main thing. Stand around, look equal parts pretty and like I can put someone in the fuckin’ ground, get paid for it - it’s not bad. Don’t have the rep here for the better-paying ones though, so… when it comes to needing eddies fast, I take wetwork. Hits.”

"In your defence, very high paying solo work I think takes either… stratospheric streetcred, or looking like a tank. Quite literally sometimes," said Bunny with a snort.

"Hmm what's a kind of gig you'd never, ever take?" He continued to ask, looking to see a reaction. The limits of Taro's morality, maybe. At least he looked comfortable here. But then again, who wouldn't be?

Taro chewed on the question for a few moments before answering, as if running through scenarios in his head. “Not in the business of killing kids,” he noted dryly. “If that wasn’t a given. Or anything with OTT collateral damage. Tend not to take hits on just any old rando, either. I want a rep as the guy that offs gangers and bigshots, not the guy that puts old Nana Hendricks from the coffee shop in the gutter for a handful of eddies.”

He shrugged and grinned. “People don’t tend to hire guys carrying as many sharp objects as me for that sort of work, though, when some bozo with a switchblade’ll do. Oh, and I figure it goes without saying… suicide missions are a no-no. I’m a cocky little shit, but even I know I have limits.”

Right, valid principles. Bunny himself didn't care all that much for the collateral damage. But it was a good level for hard limits.

"I ain't in the business of dying either, no worries. Wouldn't want to send people as hot as us to die anyway. Kay, your limits are good. I can work with that." Said Bunny with a nod.

"Ever shared a room before? Any interesting habits I should know of? Oh and feel free to ask back. Makes this feel a bit less like an interrogation." Another few sips of juice.

“Shared bunks back with Arasaka,” Taro answered with a shrug. “Since then I’ve had space to myself, but I’m no primadonna. I do call top bunk in whatever room I get, though.” He grinned.

Leaning back with a sip of his own drink, he hummed thoughtfully. “As for habits… don’t do any of the hard stuff, but I like to party with Smash. Is taking my time to look good while doing dirty work an interesting habit? I figure we share it, if so. Oh, and I have been known to make light conversation with myself, because I enjoy the sound of my own voice.”

He huffed a laugh and gave Bunny a lopsided smirk. “Okay, I’ll fire one back. What’s your favourite story from a job?”

Well he wasn't stupid enough to call Arasaka to ask about Taro's living habits. They'd probably think it was a prank call anyway.

"Heh, you can pick top anytime you room with me," said Bunny, winking at the other man with a mischievous grin on his face.

Taro returned the grin. “I’ll keep that in mind…” he murmured under his breath.

"I figure looking good isn't a bad habit, unless you occupy the bathroom forever in the mornings. We only have the one after all. But eh, I'll risk it with that." Bunny then shrugged, not really caring about loud inside voices.

"I think it has to be this one time I… it's a little embarrassing," he laughed a bit, swiping his hair back for a moment.

"It was one of my first jobs. I had only recently gotten the tendons upgrade to my legs. Dunno if you've ever tried it but it's a bitch to control and to learn. I tripped over a cable and accidentally tackled a Maelstrom gonk who fucking shot at me. We were both falling, and I kicked at the air. Long story short, he was jelly against the pavement and I made it out with a dislocated shoulder and bruised ribs. Managed to trigger the extra jump to fall into a trash container. Never been afraid of falling ever since. You time it right, you can jump from practically anywhere." He explained, even if sometimes he had broken something by goddamn landing wrong.

"Got any enemies or crazy exes that may try to come fuck us over?" Was the next question thrown at Taro.

“Probably made a few enemies since I got here, but nobody’s sworn vengeance on me in a hot minute,” Taro answered with a snort. “Kill people for a living you’re gonna piss off other people, but it’s not like I wear a nametag when I’m working. Don’t think any of ‘em are smart or determined enough to track me down. As for exes, nah. More of a one-night and done guy.”

He shrugged. “Only thing that you might want to keep on your radar is Arasaka, but I really fucking doubt they care enough to send people after me here. Probably think I died with the rest of them, and I never got told any of their big secrets anyway.”

"I think we're gonna get along just fine. We'll have to discuss house rules when it's the four of us. What's your opinion on bringing people over? I'm also a one night and done kinda guy. Though having roommates I guess I'd try to go to their other person's place. Or anywhere else really. We could even room together, I don't mind taking the bottom bunk. Or sharing from time to time," said Bunny with a smirk and a wink. After making a mental note for his agent. Keep Taro's gorgeous face away from Arasaka security cams.

“I don’t like bringing my hookups back to my place anyway,” Taro shrugged. “Don’t generally trust a guy I’ve just met with the place I sleep. I figure the same discretion wouldn’t be a bad idea for all of us if we’re gonna be collectively pissing people off, but I guess it’s not a hard line.” He returned Bunny’s smirk.

“And I guess if they already know where I live, it’s a moot point.”

"Alright alright. We should probably give you the little tour, 'cuz I'm all out of questions" Before things escalate or something, went unsaid. Bunny laughed a bit, as he looked into Taro's eye. His own were looking blue today.

"I'd take you out for a drink though, when I have the time." If only he didn't have many more interviews to do in the following hours… he got up from the couch, stretching his arms a bit. Maybe the flirting was a strategy, one that worked. But this guy seemed genuine enough.

Taro snickered, hopping to his feet in turn. “I’ll hold you to that,” he remarked. “Go on then, let’s see our grand palace in all its glory.” He gestured for Bunny to lead on..

"Well here's our living room, the blinds open and close. Top notch tech. It doubles as a ballroom or a… somewhere to have tea," joked Bunny in response. He stepped up toward the kitchen.

"Microwave, oven, we'll divide the fridge space. We have some dishware from the owner and as long as we all agree to wash it I think we could share. Sink, cupboards. You know how it is… next here is the bathroom," he walked over to the next room and opened the door. It had a lock, one toilet, one shower and one sink. Basic, with a bit of a weird mirror. But it seemed to do its job just fine. Everything was white. The general smell of chemical products increased significantly. Bunny stood by the door, gesturing for Taro to walk in and look around. There was a single bar of soap, very elaborate, on the sink. And about 5 small bottles of different skin and hair products on a small shelf in the shower.

“I was somehow expecting even more,” Taro remarked with a teasing look at Bunny as he glanced over the shower’s contents. He gave the room only a cursory look over before stepping back out. “Well, it’s a damn sight better than the public washroom in Kaneko’s, I’ll tell you that.”

"Oh there's more. But there's not enough shelf," said bunny, sticking his tongue out for a second. "I just keep them in the bedroom instead. And… yeah this bathroom is a small luxury really. Did you have to use a public one for long or something? That fucking sucks." He led Taro out of the bathroom and into he next room. This one had walls lined with lockers, storage space. It opened at the back into a slightly bigger space. There was lay-back seat, similar to what Netrunners and Ripperdocs used to work. But only in shape and design. At first sight it didn't have much more functionality. There were a few screens though, work computers, the like.

"So yeah this is for personal stashes, weapons, ammo, and I guess working. I'm calling it a workroom too. Some of the screens I installed, they were mine. But the biggest one was already here." He explained himself. On the desk rested a half dismantled silencer, the right size for a gun. As well as some tools. The locker rows had some name tags. In one was written, Bunny. The rest were empty for now.

“Sounds like a place people other than me will be using,” Taro noted with a grin. “Y’know, aside from the storage. I try to avoid deskwork, it doesn’t agree with me. Or I don’t agree with it. Or both.”

"Not even for tinkering with your own weapons? Getting real close and personal makes things better, you know," said Bunny, amused. He'd keep Taro's preferences in mind, but they may still have to take turns with desk work. Still, if the netrunning was left for himself, then… hm.

“Oh, tinkering, sure,” Taro smirked. “That’s not deskwork, though. That’s… workshop work. Different stuff.” He waved a hand at the computer vaguely dismissively.

"Yeah you're right." With that, Bunny led Taro back to the main room.

"Next come the grandiose bedrooms." He said with a snicker, pinging the door. It opened into a small space. Narrow, with the bunk beds to the left and kind of into the wall. To the right there was a line of lockers, then a big window and a desk were visible.

"The bedrooms and the bathroom have locks on the door. I really want to replace these lockers with a dresser, too. But it'll take some time to save up for it."

“Cosy,” Taro remarked, peering into the little cubbies for the beds. “Not much room for activities, but y’know. I’m an improviser.” He smirked. “Still better than a loft. Although it was a cosy loft, I’ll grant. I could do worse.”

"Hah! The way I see it with a bed and a desk there's plenty of room. But yeah this is it, might get cozy when there's four of us living here. I can show you the other bedroom, it's where I'm staying right now. And then we can talk business." Said Bunny, leaving the room after patting the bed a bit. There was some dust on the bed covers, Hm… he'd clean it later.

“I could definitely do worse for a roommate,” Taro noted with a grin as he followed after Bunny. “I shared a barracks with a sardine tin of grizzled brutes for like three years, this is still pretty much luxury by comparison. The smell, my god. It was demonic.”

He received a loud bit of laughter before Bunny muffled it by covering his mouth.

"I don't even want to imagine it! Worry not, I'm a fine roommate. Will even cuddle you during cold nights if you're into that." He'd share where he had had to sleep, but there was still some fear of rejection. And Taro was cool, so he'd keep it.

The room wasn't that different. Actually, it was the exact same. Except for a thick laptop on the desk, turned off. There were some clothes laid on the bottom bunk, different outfits. Most lockers were closed, some beauty related products rested on top and also on the desk. A white and pink stuffed teddy bunny sat on the bed as well.

"Well, now you've seen it all," he'd forgotten to put both the laptop and the teddy away.

“Aww,” Taro plucked the bunny off the bed and held it up with a grin. “Now that’s adorable.” He gave the rabbit a teasing little scratch behind the ears before setting it down again. “I’m sensing an aesthetic here, and it’s cute.”

"Damn, gonna be jealous of a toy," Said Bunny, shaking his head. He was smiling, maybe blushing a bit. But he'd never admit that. Bless makeup for providing cover.

"I've got a brand to uphold, you know? People associate cute with harmless a lot of the time. Nothing further than the truth." He added, winking and blowing a kiss at Taro before leaving the room. He returned to the kitchen island and used one hand to prop himself up and sit. Just like Taro had done in the beginning.

Taro sidled after him a moment later, leaning onto the counter beside his host and grinning up at him. “So. Business talk?”

After crossing his legs, one over the other and shifting so he was slightly turned in his guest's direction, Bunny gave him the scare of the rent.

"We pay between 2715 and 3000 eddies a month, between four of us. Depends on how the value of everything fluctuates. That includes the actual rent, utilities, phone connection, TV, and a very basic diet of kibble. You know, can't have anyone starving to death if they don't have enough edds for prepacks." It was expensive, but it wasn't impossible to keep up with, especially if they worked well together.

"So it's around 700 per person every month. Give or take a few dozen edds." He said with a conciliatory smile, resting a hand on Taro's shoulder.

“Little steep,” Taro murmured. “But I guess it could be worse. Cheaper than living solo, at least. Plus we’ll pull in better cash with a team. In theory.” He hummed and shrugged. “Yeah, I can work with that.”

"Good! That should be it. Unless you have any questions or requests for me. Or something to tell me, really. Anything that could put the team in danger, any preferences you could have when it comes to the other roommates…" He patted Taro's shoulder in light affection, looking at him in the eye.

Taro met the other man’s gaze steadily, the easy smile staying fixed upon his face. A half-beat passed before he shrugged. “Is it too much to ask they’re all as good looking as us? Maybe we can moonlight as a boyband. Or would we be daylighting as one?”

He chuckled. “Other than that, nope. I trust you’ll put us together a team that won’t fall at the first hurdle. I mean, I guess hurdles are your speciality,” he pat Bunny’s leg with a smirk. “So that’s probably not an issue.”

"Doubt I can make the boyband dream happen, but we'll see what I can do… Alright,” Said Bunny with a smirk, visibly relaxing under Taro's touch.

"Then you're in and I will see you soon, when you're all ready to move... Or we can go out for a drink later tonight, whichever works better for you. This was nice, but I do want to get to know you better."

“Hm…” Taro made a show of looking contemplative, drumming his fingers on the counter-top and tilting his head to one side to let his bangs hang askew. Then, after just long enough in suspense he smiled again and straightened. “Sure. A drink sounds fun. It’s been a while since I had a night out with planned company.”

He shot Bunny a wink and turned to pace toward the door. “You can show me if those fancy legs of yours are any good for dancing, as well as jumping,” he added with a coy glance over his shoulder. “Afterlife at eight?”

With a breathy laugh, Bunny walked him to the door.

"Afterlife at nine thirty or no show. Got interviews until nine. But I'll be there handsome, don't you fuckin' doubt it." He leaned against the doorframe for a second while Taro walked out the door. One thing he was sure of, was that he danced like a god. So this guy would be in for a good night regardless of how and where it ended.

“Looking forward to it!” Taro turned to grin back at him as he paced backwards down the hall. “I’ll get a head start on the drinks for you.”

With a final half-wave, half-salute, he disappeared around the corner toward the elevators, and was gone.

And after a great start to his evening, Bunny smiled and pinged the door. It closed, he went for some more 'ganic OJ and then dusted the bedrooms before the next person arrived.

Unknown to both of them, a tall blonde in a suit had been watching them from a careful distance. For both the arrival and the departure of Taro.

Hours and hours had gone by since the first interview had taken place. Bunny had to be honest as he washed fresh blood from his wolvers. The water ran from the tap in the kitchen sink and washed it away. The smell didn’t, though. He hadn’t expected any blonde gonks to come to a fucking appartment rent interview to call him a svoluch. He hadn’t zeroed him, but he’d wanted to. Better go back bowing and scraping for corps. It was all they were good at.

Alright, he cleaned up any other remains of blood before he sat to check who the next person was. His eyes lit up, the ripperdoc! right. He’d left him for last hoping it’d lift his spirits. Truth be told, he was ready to do almost anything to get him on board. Cheaper rent, such dick, whatever. Especially because his story checked out, Padre Ibarra spoke well about him, and damn… having a doc at home would make everything so much easier. Even if he was on the blacklist of some corps, which… he really did need the details about. Hopefully his desperation wasn’t as obvious as it felt. He went into the bathroom to wash his face, freshen up, brush his hair a bit maybe. It definitely looked like Raul knew his worth, so he didn’t have the upper hand in this one. Unless he was some sort of fake, please no. Eh, It was about time for him to show up, so Bunny walked over to the kitchen island and leaned his side against it. Same way it had started for everybody.

45 Minutes Prior

Raul hefted his cred chip in one hand as he took a drag of his cigarette. He switched his stare from the Data Term and back to his cred chip. He tossed the chip in the air lightly, and caught it gracefully as he grunted. Technically it was impossible for someone to feel the weight that more data carried, but Raul could have sworn he felt the painful difference after sending Biotechnica half a payment.

That wasn’t too bad. Half payment month, and the Big Day when the Admin Fees (And the renewal fee, and the history fee, and the servicing fee…) all got charged and capitalized probably wouldn’t be for a few months.

That meant it’d be Scavengers in a few minutes, not an Arasaka Rent-a-Squad. Surprisingly, despite the vast difference in their effectiveness, they actually had damn near identical response times. He set his Agent to update his screamsheets and download the latest episode of his soap before logging off and setting off.

There was this dark alley by the Megabuilding he was supposed to head to. He had scoped it out earlier, and decided it was exactly where they’d jump him. It’s where he’d do it. Raul took the last drag on his smoke, burning it down to the filter and exhaling the noxious fumes out his nose. He cracked the vertebrate in his neck, drew his Iron, and walked into the awaiting ambush.

“We the repo men, Choomb—,” the wretches’ choo slurred exclamation was cut short as the micro-flechettes from the pressurized self-propelled slug pierced his brain. There were six of them, which really would have sucked for Raul if they’d been the Arasaka Puppets. But fuckin’ scavs? It was perfunctory at best.

He flashed with the ‘dorph wave shot into his meatcube by the sandevistan, and felt the nano-alloy reinforced muscles tense as he exploded into motion. He jerked to the side roughly as he ran towards two of the scavs who stood nearly shoulder to shoulder. As he felt the bullet go through his left shoulder—which was a sight better than the heart-shot it would have been otherwise—he grit through the pain and pressed his left thumb down with his index finger before flicking the thumb at the scavs.

He was already drawing a bead on the fourth scav’s head as the monowire was pulled by the counter weight, and through the neck of the grouped scavs. It wasn’t a knife through hot butter. It was a monowire through bone, the comparison was an insult. Raul shot the fourth in the head and dove behind a concrete bench.

He calmly began to lay out the supplies he’d need to patch up his bullet wound. Raul ignored the sound he swore must be grinding gears as the two remaining scavs decided if they should go check on him or not. It was simple psychology, and not the complex kind seeing as scavs as a rule weren’t exactly gifted in the mental department.

He waited three seconds, when he knew the scavs would have both started to move forward in the open. Then he quickly popped out and aimed his gun at the pair before ducking back. Not exactly sterile quarters, but it’d do. Raul quickly doffed his jacket, draping it over the bench arm. At the sound of the sudden intake of breath, Raul quickly jumped out in the other direction and fired twice without aiming.

As the bodies dropped dead from the smartgun, Raul sat and set to work on his arm. It wouldn’t do to meet a new business associate all shot up.

—

A cigarette smoldered in Raul’s lips as he stood before the door to apartment 665. He glanced around at the surroundings—Default MegaBuilding Trash Chic—and shrugged to himself. Humble beginnings maybe. Truth was, he just needed more bodies to get on bigger paying jobs. He wasn’t going to one man his way out of his mountain of debt.

He took a drag on his smoke and pressed the door chime.

It rang, playing a standard melody. It was custom, but unoriginal anyway. Inside, Bunny brought up the views of the cameras outside, comparing the view to the picture he already had of Raul. Sure, different clothes but that was definitely him. The door slid open with a buzz.

There stood Bunny, looking the medtech up and down with a raised brow. His head was half shaved, with luminous white hair, straight, shoulder length. What was visible of his skin was heavily adorned with EMP threading. He wore a camo tank top, tight black pants and military style black boots.

"Hey handsome, want to come in and tell me what you prefer to be called?" He said, flashing the man a smile. He'd take a sniff later. But smoking was a tolerable vice.

Raul arched an eyebrow as he looked at the… he paused and considered the greeting and didn’t assume. Still, he had to be sure this was the right place and everything was aboveboard. Wouldn’t do to mistake a Joytoy for the new boss.

“You’re Mr. Who about the shared conapt for a new crew, right?” he asked as he casually looked up and around the person behind the door. A nearly imperceptible orange light blended in with his amber eyes as he peaked at the IF through his Kiroshis, looking for anything odd.

"Drop the -Mr-, it's just Bunny. And you are...?" He asked, actually walking a bit closer to the door and leaning against the frame this time.

Raul moved closer towards Bunny. He didn’t see any heat signatures indicating hidden threats, and the place just didn’t seem the type to have infrared countermeasures. That was enough to mollify his paranoia that this was a setup for now.

“Handle’s Bones,” Raul said as he extended an arm. “Name’s Raul, but if you didn’t already know that then I don’t think I want to work for you,” he said in a casual matter of fact tone.

"Relax, choom. The point was to see if you knew. Wouldn't be the first faker I got to meet today." Answered Bunny, shaking the man's hand with a steady grip.

At first sight the apartment was very clean and with very white furniture. There was a lingering chemical smell mixed with blood if one paid attention.

“Alright hermano,” Raul said as he relaxed and casually rubbed his index finger over his left thumb, locking the monowire back in place. “I can be chillen the city, y’know how it es. Sorry, the Heywood leaks out of me sometimes. I’m here thinking of chippin’ in, you already know that. How you want to play this, what do you need to know?”

Tough day, sure, Bunny hummed in response to that, with understanding.

"I was gonna play it the same as I have with the rest of my visitors today. Well, almost the same. You say you're blacklisted by corpos. I'm not stupid enough to think you're here out of some whimsical want for adventure in company of whoever I can scramble together. So sit your ass down wherever you find most comfortable and give me the details on what that means, exactly." He said with a shrug. No playing around with this one. He signaled with his hand, that the other man could pick where they talked next. There was the kitchen island and then the couch to the back.

Raul grunted a coarse laugh as he pulled one of the chairs out of the kitchen island and sat down. He flicked the fingers on his right hand and like a magic trick a cigarette popped out of his jacket sleeve.

“Gotta appreciate a gato that’s thorough in their research,” Raul said as he put the smoke to his lips. “Mind if I smoke in here?” he asked.

"Go for it" Said Bunny, sitting on the other chair with his legs crossed.

“Thanks,” Raul said as he brought the tip of a fingernail to the cigarette. His nail flared red-hot for a moment, igniting the smoke. The smell of tobacco and synthweed filled the air as Raul took a long drag.

“So, of course you’d want to know about the blacklist. So, you’ve no doubt asked yourself how does a Heywood son end up with all of that fancy medical training? Answer of course, is debt. Turns out, under the right promo, the right quarter, and the right marketing strategy that you can end up real fucking deep in corporate debt.”

Raul paused to take another drag, before offering the smoke to Bunny.

He took a drag with an appreciative little noise before offering it back. He'd call this man a gonk, but he still wanted a medtech in his corner.

"Mhm, so, consequences?"

Raul took the smoke back, and took a long drag as he considered how best to answer. Last crew had ended up selling him out, so he had to flatline them. It really was a pain in the ass to work with groups, but damn if it didn’t pay.

“Let me put it like this. Poor, Expensive, Luxury. You know how different your life is depending on where you fall on the Edds-a-Year scale,” Raul said as he gesticulated with his hands, accentuating his statements.

“Well, turns out debt is like that too. Manage to land in a deep enough hole, it’s like you’re a whole superstar. I actually have a valid membership to several Biotechnica owned establishments and they sell me shit at a discount. Meanwhile, I owe them like, fuck choom, 7 million edds? Some shit like that,” he shook his head at the absurdity of it every time he contemplated it.

“I have an account, so far in the negative, it’s specially managed. My case manager is this bomb ass chick. Great lay too—apparently not against their policies—and she handles my financial black hole as closely as Saburo Arasaka’s fucking personal accountant. Oh there’s also biweekly hit squads,” Raul said, adding the last in casually.

At first this felt like some basic course on personal lifestyles that he was being given by this guy. He'd been ready for a number, a high number because… well, he was here hoping for an opportunity, or something. Yeah, tens of thousands, maybe hundreds. He'd been mentally prepared to hear this guy owed well over 300k, maybe.

"Did you just say seven MILLION?" What the fuck? It sent Bunny to swear in a whole other language, maybe russian. It also came delayed, because of course Raul had just kept talking.

"Wait, fucking slow down wowwww Superstar alright! What the hell do you mean seven million of debt, at least, and bi-weekly hit squads? Fuckin' elaborate??" He demanded, not even bothering to play nice. It was also typical as hell from corpos to just let you keep buying shit. Even after you owed them already, why not? More edds for them.

“Now it’s your turn to relax choom,” Raul said as he took a long drag of the smoke, before passing it along. “You’re not really getting it. My debt is so astronomical it’s imaginary. Last week it was 11 million. Should be around 4 million tomorrow morning. The hit-squads are the payment plan. A lot of that money is how they cybered me up, all subtle and expensive like,” he “explained” not trying to make the insanity make sense. Fuck it, it was his life, absurd as it was. Fucker wanted to know, might as well tell him.

“It’s usually scavs,” Raul said, trying to soften the blow. “Yeah, it’s sometimes some other posergang, and once a year it gets dicey when they add their bullshit ‘administration’ fee bullshit. But basically, if they kill me, I get repo’ed and someone gets all the tech. Each one I kill instead, is a credit on my account.” Raul paused for a second, setting up the low blow.

“I can probably negotiate a full payoff with a cool mil easy, that’s what private booth at the Afterlife pays out I’ve heard. That’s where we’re going, right?”

Fine, he'd been ready to listen so he had. Bunny took a long drag, if anything to drown his quickly spiralling thoughts. And to keep quiet.

"Tsk, well aren't you a fuckin' genius…" he hissed, passing his cig back to Raul. Bunny got off the kitchen chair and took a long, deep breath. The booth at the Afterlife was sort of a life-long deal. But no way was he keeping up with hitmen twice monthly for like, the next ten fucking years. But he was a medtech, and he didn't have any others lining up for this.

"And you've made it on your own so far. How long has it been exactly?" He asked, as he paced from one side of the room to the other.

“Going on about five years now, that I’ve been juggling ‘payments’,” Raul said, his tone nonchalant. “Often it’s just a single dumb hunk of muscle, but yeah. Me and Santa Muerte talk a lot, on both sides of my profession.”

Raul took a long drag and finished the cigarette off. “Bag Man,” Raul sniffed and shrugged his shoulders. “You already know my resume. Hot as can be, but heat to match is brought. We gonna keep fucking around? You know you probably won’t see another qualified Medtech until you actually need one, I’m cheaper than Trauma Team, and with me you know it’s as simple as I gotta keep the edds flowing, but you’ve heard Padre, I’m solid. So whatchu gonna do, compadre?”

"I wish we were fucking around! You're in, I'm not going to get a better offer for a medtech. I'm well aware. But we've jumped from me being well ready to suck you off so you'd stay… to this. And it sucks, but also like, er… are you okay? Because it can't be good for, eh, whatever. Do you want to take a look around? Talk about rent or, dunno, anything you couldn't ever tolerate from other roommates?" He wanted a bit, very much thinking he was in his fuckin' right to do so. Also he'd have to see how the rest of the team took it. Not that they had another option. But it wasn't the best news.

"Also I have 'ganic orange juice. Do you want some?" He stopped pacing to actually head to the fridge and pour himself a glass.

“Yeah, I’ll take some,” Raul said, taking the offer for the juice first, while he pondered. He wasn’t quite sure if he’d found an unicorn, but fuck him if this guy didn’t seem to be an idealist. Maybe it was his ticket after all, maybe not.

“Choom, I’m steady as a rock. Ain’t nothing I’m going through that isn’t just an extension of the streets, and this is Night City. Doesn’t really matter much to me where I’m bunking to be honest,” he said as snap, flick and up went another cigarette.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not an asshole. I’ll be cool, maybe even fit in, but I’m not necessarily out to make best friends. It ain’t my first rodeo, let’s see if you all don’t die on me or try to sell me out first. I know you’ll get my rent as low as it can be, and if you all want to live then everyone has to pitch in for the medical supplies, fair?”

"Medical supplies thing, fair. Sure." Said Bunny, pouring another glass of OJ that he then put on the kitchen island in front of Raul.

"Rent is 700 eddies for everyone. I don't do best friends. I've got contacts, inputs, outputs… and teammates. I ain't about to sell you out, but that you'll see. Words mean shit nowadays. And if anyone else tries, they'll be deepthroating my yukimura before I blow their brains the fuck out. Goes the other way too, superstar." He said, gesturing, imitating what it was like to shoot someone in the head. At the end, he winked at Raul, and took a few sips of juice right after.

“Hard, Man,” Raul said with an approving nod as he took a drag on his smoke and chased it down with some of the juice.

“Man, this is the good shit,” he said, smacking his lips. “Make a mean screwdriver. Anyhow, numbers work for me, provided everyone understands only life saving procedures are gonna be pro bono. Anything elective, I’ve got reasonable rates. If that’s all cool, let’s shake on it and count me chipped in, choom,” Raul said before finishing the juice. The cigarette smoldered as he waited for Bunny.

With a smirk and a nod, Bunny was glad to shake hands and bag himself(and the team) a ripperdoc.

"Very glad to have you" He said, before finishing his own juice. Hmm, it was time he got going as well. He had a date after all.

After an entire day of interviews, a good party and an even better night, Bunny felt ready to tackle the next batch of legend wannbe’s. That didn’t start until noon, so he took his time to laze around for a bit and enjoyed a long hot shower. He'd soon have to share, so he better enjoy it while he could. Then he compared tech, made some calls, and squeezed fresh OJ for the new visitors. There were also the new add ons to their monthly budget for medical supplies, vehicles to consider… and oh shit she'd be here in fifteen minutes and he still didn't have his face on!. Bunny dropped the tablet and practically ran over to the mirror, makeup kit in hand. It'd be a bit improvised, but still good.
//
It had been another restless night. Naturally, the streets of Watson weren't all that quiet during the night hours, but there were other troubles on the mind of Kirchhoff. She wore today a black tank top and a synth-leather overcoat, and in preparation for her interview with Bunny, she brought with her some of her gear.

As Kirchhoff walked through the foyer of the megabuilding, she reached into her overcoat and took out a flask. She needed to calm her nerves somehow, especially since the sleep didn't really help. She popped the flask open and took a quick swig from it before quickly capping it and concealing it again. She scanned the doors along the hall until her eyes fell upon apartment 665. She shook off her nerves and with a deep breath she rang the bell on the door panel.

It buzzed and startled Bunny, who growled.

"Shit, shit … had to be on time!" He complained out loud, bringing up the live feed from the cameras outside. Yeah that was Kirchhoff alright, he recognised her quite well. She was the only one of the three he recognised as he read through her application. But whatever, he let her ring the doorbell again before leaving his makeup as collected as possible and heading for the door. He waited, as he had for everyone, leaning against the kitchen island as he let the door slide open.

"Come in!" He called, if anything to see what she'd do. There was some confidence in the familiarity they shared.

Kirchhoff hesitated for a moment before stepping through the door, laughing quietly to herself. "Hope I didn't catch you too off guard." Her voice was deep, and she spoke with a Nordic accent. She smiled cordially as she got herself acquainted with the abode.

She was familiar with Bunny. Did some work for him in the past. Regardless, she wasn't totally friendly with him yet, and she had to sell herself as being a viable roommate and business partner. God knows how that's going to go.

"Nah, I'm never off guard, Hun. Skipping the pleasantries because we know each other. The fuck are you doing here? Hm? Didn't expect to get an app from you of all people" He said. All the flirting he could possibly do left for later, when someone a bit more masculine looking was in her place.

"Tired of your old life? Feeling lonely? Looking for friends?" He asked with a hum and an arched brow.

The woman scoffed, folding her arms in front of her. "No, none of that midlife crisis shit. I'm getting my old life back," she clarified. "I'm tired of hiding around in the shadows, and I need a way to get myself back out there without having to watch my back every ten seconds. Figured that someone else with sharp eyes could help me out with that."

Her polite smile was replaced by a more wry one. " 'Sides, my skills are wasted sitting around doing grunt work for Reggie."

“What old life? there’s no going back from the edge. I guess you could get a better life, new, shiny, but it’s never gonna have less lawmen shitheads after your ass. Not unless you skip town and get a full body redo.” He said, because shit had to be clear. It was fine to dream, but dreams down to Earth, please.

Kirchhoff let out a dry laugh. "Of course not. I'm not stupid. No, I just want to do my work and evade the law effectively like any other techie worth their salt. Lawmen are abundant, but they're also corrupt gonks that will forget anything for the right sum of eddies. Or with the right set of quickhacks, of course."

Bunny seemed to relax a bit at that, good, so she wasn’t actually delusional.
“Alright, that’s something I can get behind… I do like to use mindwipe quite often. So tell me, Kirchhoff, what exactly are you bringing to the table?” He asked, still leaning against the kitchen island.

“Oh, and I’ve got ‘ganic OJ, want some¿?”

"Fuck yeah I do, that's the good shit," Kirchhoff replied, leaning up against the wall. "As for what I bring, you know my work on the tech side, I don't need to ramble on about that, I imagine. But I figure you need a good Netrunner for your group, and I'm no slouch on the hacking side of things, either. I got some preem hardware, this Mk. III Raven Microcyber. The RAM recovery is insane."

She sighed. "I'd dabbled in datamine breaching and the like for a bit, but I had T-Bug to mentor me once I got a bit more serious about it. Don't know if I could have asked for anyone better to teach me what I know now."

"T-bug? Shit I hear she's amazing. How'd you manage that? Still in contact?" Said Bunny, surprised as he went to get two glasses and some of the juice.

"Oh, yes, she's fantastic. Met her the same way I meet anyone else; did some repairs, clocked her wares. She's real cautious, that's for damn sure." Kirchhoff hummed, a more pensive look in her eyes. "She's been radio silent as of late. I'm hoping she just managed to get out of this shithole of a city like she wanted, but I can't be too sure."

"Unlikely, choom. My condolences." Said Bunny, only half serious.

"I've got the other two roomies already, so you'd be a last addition. I hope you don't mind sharing a bedroom with a guy. Because that's kind of inevitable. And it ain't gonna be me." He explained, putting the OJ glass before Kirchhoff.

Kirchhoff shrugged before taking the glass of OJ with a nod toward Bunny. "As long as they're not going to get fresh with me. Regardless, I trust your judgment," she said. "At least you haven't given me a reason not to."

She took a sip of the OJ. Wasn't often that she got to drink some proper organic juice, but it was welcome when it did happen. " 'Preciate it."

"Dunno how much of a perv he is, but we'll find out eventually. And hey it's no prob. So you've got your own equipment yeah? For netrunning I mean. Because I don't even have the goggles. Only hacking you'll see me do if I can help it is the quick kind."

"Yeah, of course. Got the virtuality goggles, interface plugs, the whole she-bang." She tapped the back of her neck where the plugs were installed. "What kind of crew do you got so far? What's everyone doing?"

After a nod and a few sips of juice, Bunny nodded.

"Well apparently I've signed up to be a sort of midway fixer for us. That and anything that requires subtlety and strategising, my shit. Then we've got a preem fuckin fighter. He's got the looks and the viciousness, and a ripperdoc. That last one's your roommate to be. He's got some issues that will extend to all of us once we start workin' together. But we'll be fine, or die." He explained with a shrug.

"Either way, having a doc at home puts us miles before any other gonk in this hellhole. Real survivalist too, so we won't have to watch over his ass. How's your fighting, Kirh?"

Kirchhoff smirked. "Ah, well, if I'm rooming with the ripperdoc, I don't have too much to worry about." She chose to ignore whatever issues Bunny was describing. Issues usually meant people were looking for them. Frankly, that could be said of any edgerunner, that wasn't news.

She took another sip of the OJ. "I prefer to avoid fighting if it can be avoided, but I'm no slouch. I prefer to stick with blades and the like. Just quieter than any gun, even with the silencers. Of course, being able to quickhack during a fight helps me a lot, too. It's funny just how pissed a merc can get when you reboot their optics in the middle of a fight."

Bunny laughed.
"That's all good and understandable. Where I'm involved, an optic reboot is the symptom of incoming death."

"All good so far, really. Got any questions for me? Want to take a look around?" He asked her, making a wide gestures with his hand.

Kirchhoff looked around the apartment. It seemed standard for a unit that will carry four individuals. "I guess my main question is where are we getting these jobs from? I imagine we're getting some more serious gigs with four of us." She looked at the doors to the bedrooms. "Oh, and where am I sleeping?"

He showed her the desk work room, from where she could do some netrunning. The very small bathroom, too.

"I worry about the jobs. But mainly... fixers, I guess sometimes the NCPD?, Whoever the fuck pays more. Same as any other Merc" He explained, walking her to the bedroom that was further from the main door.

"This'll be your bedroom, I guess. A bit tight, you can choose top or bottom bunk" Said Bunny.

Kirchhoff nodded. "Well, I suppose that's it then, yeah? When's move-in?" She looked at the beds for a moment. "Oh. And let the ripperdoc know I take top. Bunk, that is."

"You can tell him yourself. And dunno, sometime next week I guess? There's shit we all gotta take care of, luv" Said Bunny with a shrug. He let the bedroom door close behind them both.

"Now, I say this with our best interest in mind. But we had some dealings, we've shared the streets for a few years… so start telling me exactly what you know, or think you know about me. Yeah? Full honestly if we're gonna be working together soon." He said. And really, he wasn't the most menacing person at first sight. But in a small room, possibly armed, he was at least hoping to look like enough of a threat (or none of it) that Kirchhoff would comply without giving him much trouble.

Kirchhoff quirked an eyebrow. She was anticipating something like this happening. She was pretty used to mercs trying to bolster themselves and posture like they're the big bad wolf. She maintained her cordial composure, as if to challenge the attempt at intimidation.

"I know you've been a merc for four years. That's no small time. I've always worked more in my lab than out on the streets. I know you ran as a Maelstrom ganger, and you've been around some real fuckin' cyberpsychos knowing that. I know you don't like Ruskies. Lucky you, I'm Norwegian. I know that I don't know your name, but you know mine. I know you chose me for a reason, because if the only reason is because you knew me from somewhere, then you're a moron."

She paused for a moment to finish off her glass of OJ. "Conversely, I chose you for a reason; I know you're not a moron. But I also know you're smarter than to piss off a crew member, especially one who you'll depend on for your security."

Bunny hummed, thinking about what she’d just told him. He had an inkling there might be more.
“Don’t see why checking the kind of background check you might’ve done would piss you off, Kirch. Really… calm your tits. Don’t threaten me with betrayal, ‘cause it’ll come get you fucking tripled the moment i smell it. I ain’t going to tolerate that, not from you, not from anyone. Same goes for the rest of our chooms. So lets be nice, anything else that comes to mind? I'm not so into gossip about my person.” He ended up saying, leaning his back against the still closed door. The person who might be in charge of his security could handle a bit of prodding, he was sure about that.

Kirchhoff only smiled in return. "You only asked what I know, no threats at all. I'm not the gossippy type, I guarantee I've done some stupid things just like anyone else has." She hummed, watching as Bunny effectively blocked the exit. If it were a matter of being nice, this would not be how it were to go. "But trust is earned. Frankly, I don't trust you yet, and you shouldn't trust me either. Doesn't matter how long we've shared the streets with each other. For all it matters to you, I don't know you at all. And I intend to treat it that way."

“That’s really not why I asked, honey, there has to be a minimal amount of trust anyway. We’re about to move in together with another two people. So you trust us not to gut you at night, and you’re gonna trust me to get you jobs. We’ll have to trust you to do some hacking. So sure, no personal trust, but we can’t work from zero. And something you’ll learn about me, is that I like to know what goes around being said. Got any other questions?”

The polite smile on her face had faded at this point. "I never do a lousy job. From a professional perspective, you can always count on me. I protect my crew. I keep my business partners safe. But as of now, all of this is strictly professional. If there's talk on the streets about you as a person, I'll let you know. But right now, I've told you what I know that matters. No more questions."

“Good to hear, any annoying habits when it comes to living with you, or stuff you just can’t deal with?” Said Bunny, lifting his back from the door, that buzzed and opened as he stepped back into the main living space.

With that, Kirchhoff returned to her amiable self, a polite smile on her face. She walked through the door. "I listen to music late at night, but I got in-ear implants for that. Other than that, I'm easy as long as nobody fucks with my stuff, and I'll keep shit clean around the apartment. Gotta do my part to keep things liveable. Any other house rules I should know about?"

"Not for now? I guess don't use other people's stuff. Rent is 700 a month for each one of us, it covers utilities and basic as fuck diet of kibble. But I usually go shopping at the Arasaka waterfront. Steal some of their premium 'ganic packages. They don't care all that much. Hmm, I'll let you all know when the move-in day is, and I want you to ask around for any new hits on Raul Fernando Escobar Ruiz. Handle, Bones. Please, it's for our professional wellbeing…" He told her, walking her to the door already.

Kirchhoff nodded. "Heard that. I'll keep a tab on him. Considering this is for our professional well-being, I imagine this is our ripperdoc. I can get any hits on the Net taken down if need be. I'll ask around if there's any anywhere else." As she walked to the front door, she gave Bunny a firm nod. "If that's it, then, I'll see you on move-in day." She offered her hand to the man for a handshake.

"You'll find them for sure, so yeah take 'em down without attracting a lot of attention. They get listed by corporations, so I imagine it's… whatever. Don't get fried while doing it. And I'll see you then" Said Bunny, hesitating, but accepting the handshake after a moment. His grip was firm and he was quick to let go.

Her grip was noticeably firm and stern. As she let go, without another word, she turned and left through the doorway. She took another quick swig from her flask as she walked through the foyer.

> Sent at |01:47| from Your-Favourite-Asshole<

Handle: Shade under a willow tree. Shads, Shade, Bitch. Depends on how you're feeling.

Full name: You know It. Not gonna type it, this has shit encryption.

Role/s: Netrunner, info bro, spy, hacker, sharpshooter, stabber.

Abilities and gear: Netrunning, deep diving, infiltration, spionage, long range combat or very short cqc.

I develop experimental quickhacks in my free time, and act as an information broker for some fixers. U knew that.

Cyberware: I'm cybered up, again, not a safe channel.

Where did you come from?: Where did you go?, We roamed the streets together choom, you know my life story better than me. I know yours too, liar lol. You spoke so highly of your new friends I'm gonna join you after all. Don't want to get left behind.

Got any references?: You

and DW says hi.

What's your dream?: Money, recognition, freedom, chaos.

Recent picture: You literally just saw me.

Other:

Age: 29
Gender: lol
Height: 6'1''
Weight: I'm kinda skinny but I got some muscle, fuck off.

Hollow glade · May 14, 2024

Character sheets

Handle: Tachi
Full name: Tachibana Taro
Role/s: More of a Solo than anything else, but I know one end of a techtool from another - mostly enough to do maintenance on my own gear. In dire straits I can fill in for a Netrunner, but that's... not ideal, let's say.

Abilities and gear: I prefer close combat to ranged, but I know my way around both. Swordplay and SMGs are my signatures, but if it's sharp or shoots bullets, I can make it work. Prefer to use light armorjaks to stay mobile. I come equipped with a smart SMG and an as-smart-as-it-needs-to-be nanoblade katana. Top of the line shit, courtesy of my former employers.

Cyberware: Neural link w/ biomonitor, interface plugs, kerenzikov (reflex enhancer), & chipware socket w/ tactile boost (I can feel people moving by touching a wall 20 yards away, it's pretty neat). Cybereye w/ chryon (HUD) & targeting assistance. Cyberarm w/ subdermal grip, retractable armblade, grapple hand.

Where did you come from?: My parents were Corp Techs over in Japan, nothing high up the chain - they worked technical gigs at some Arasaka research facility. Main interesting part was it was all hush-hush, top secret stuff. I got to live in an apartment with a fridge that talked to me, so that was pretty cool. We weren't so far into comfy corpo territory that I didn't end up running with a gang for a bit when I was a teen, but it was pretty tame. Dad worked security and that's where I ended up too, learning to shoot and fight for bitches in suits. Even got a job at the same place as my parents. Domestic as hell, just with added martial arts classes and compulsory cyberware.

Things went to shit a few years back. Some terrorist group - hell, maybe edgerunners - hit the place. It went boom, my 'rents died. You know, standard stuff. I survived and got the hell out of there, decided I didn't want to be on Arasaka home turf anymore, so I ended up in Night City. Land of new starts, right? Right.

That shit's behind me now. It's not important. But you asked, so here it is. Don't make a whole thing out of it.

Got any references?: Been staying in the loft over Kaneko Noodles for a few months now. The owner, Ms. Hina, can vouch for me, I haven't stabbed her in her sleep yet! That's the minimum requirement, right? As far as work goes, I've been hiring out for whoever's paying. Some security work, some hit jobs. If you want to chat to one of my fixers, you can ask for Snakebite at Club Toxicity. Just try not to piss him off? Fair warning, it's real easy.

As far as Arasaka work goes, you'll have to take my word for it. That facility wasn't on file, so I've not got any documents. But if you buy my story, you know I'm good - they don't hire just anyone off the street for their security teams. I went through some pretty hardcore screening and training with them. Was practically groomed for it, and yeah, it's as creepy as it sounds.

What's your dream?: Live fast, die young? Seems the most realistic dream to aim for. If we're talking pipe dreams, I wanna be one of those guys that's so rich that they just pay other people to do everything for them, snap their fingers and the city jumps to attention. More realistically? Rich enough to be able to pick and choose my contracts without worrying about feeding myself. Milestones, right? Rich enough to be able to chill, and not worry about it, that's the vibe.

Recent picture: My cybereye's not "prettied up", so I tend to leave the patch on when I'm not on the job. Plus, eyepatches are cool, right?

Other Basic Info:

Age: 24
Gender: Male
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 124lbs

Handle: Kirchhoff
Full name: Sofie Ohnstad. If you call me Sophia, I'll gut you. Fucking yanks.

Role/s: I'm a proper Techie. My shit is all over NC and you may not even realize it. Hell, some of your gear may have been under my hands at one point. The way it seems to me, though, looks like you may be in need of a Netrunner more than anything, and that just happens to be my next best trade.

Abilities: I've been fucking around in networks and circuits for longer than I haven't been, you get me? I've been breaching datamines for years, practically just for fun (well, the Eddies are a bonus). On the hardware side, I can upgrade, augment, and repair whatever wares you need me to tinker with. Don't care if it's your cyberware, your iron, or even your fashionware. I'd rather not be the one doing the killing, but if need be, I can put someone down nice and quiet.

Gear: Got myself this cute little Stinger that I've done a bit of rigging on. It's not the real deal or anything, just a basic ass knife that I've been fucking with for a while. Shoots some poison into the poor gonk it goes into. I'm not a gun kinda gal, and I'd rather make things nice and personal if I'm gonna go around killing. Plus, most other iron is too damn noisy.

I do have a Mk. III Raven Microcyber Cyberdeck for your typical high-buffer, high-RAM hacking needs. Like I said, I ain't one for guns blazing and murder abound, so I set that up with Sonic Shock, Ping, System Reset, and Remote Deactivation. The way I see it, if you have to get into a gunfight, that means you've already lost. Call me a pussy, I don't give a shit. Also got some virtuality goggles I use a Farinata tech tool kit for most of my tech work. If it ain't broke... you get it.

Cyberware: Visual cortex support and Kiroshi Optics Mk. III. You sure as hell want your techie to have sharp eyes. Also got a biomonitor, neural link, interface plugs, yadda yadda yadda.

Where did you come from?: Well, shit, I had been a proper Downtown NC kinda merchant way back when. Used to sell and repair wares for a whole crowd of people, some less reputable than others. I may have gotten a little cocky, stiffed the wrong gearhead, and they got the fucking law on me. I was young and I was a fucking gonk. Sue me. Couldn't stick around my old spot. Been in Watson ever since, scrounging most of my Eddies from odd jobs that Reggie gets for me, and in exchange, I ain't dead or incarcerated.

Got any references?: Reggie out in Watson has definitely had my back for longer than I deserve ever since I went on the run. Some edgerunners may remember my name if they've been around a while, I guess.

What's your dream?: I just wanna be able to sell wares again without lawmen breathing down my neck, y'know. Dunno if that means paying them off or just zeroing whatever borg ratted me out, but hey, whatever gets me there.

Recent picture: View attachment 11011
Image Credit: https://www.deviantart.com/annahelme/art/Damillia-Seraph-715547092

Other:
Age: 32
Gender: Female
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 113 lb.

Handle: Sitri. Y'know, like the demon prince in the Ars Goetia.

Full Name: ...Sitri. Sitri Slyker. Yes, that's actually my real name. Look, my mom was an idiot, all right?

Roles: I mean, if I like you enough or I've had a few drinks, sure I'm up for a little- oh. The other sort. I don't know, I don't really like to categorize myself. I trade information. Buy, sell, or steal. You got something you wanna know?

Abilities and Gear: Well, I work as a bartender, so I can mix drinks pretty damn well. I also do kickboxing on weekends, which is good for discouraging a few of the customers who don't know their limits - or don't know mine. Gear? I have a handgun. No, I don't know what kind. I bought it from a guy in an alley and when I need ammo, I take it to another guy in another alley and they sell me the stuff that fits. Yes, I know you could tell me what it is, I just don't care.

Cyberware: Sensory kit, smell and taste. Hella cheaper than sight, I'll tell you that, plus people don't think to expect it. It's good for mixing drinks and knowing if someone's trying to sell me cheap liquor in a fancy bottle. It's also good for knowing where people have been and who they've been with, but I don't advertise that part.

Where did you come from? A shithole. Can I say that in this interview? Okay. 'Cause it was a shithole. I don't think it really had a name, and we weren't really supposed to be there. Grew up squatting in abandoned buildings, hoping the tweakers or the wanna-be techies didn't blow it up under us. Moved around a lot, whenever the corpos or the cops came by and tried to clear the sites out. You live like that and you learn to keep an ear on the ground. Knowing when there's gonna be a raid can save you a lot of trouble, and there's people who'll pay for that information. Couldn't do anything about the tweakers or the techies, but it was enough to give me an edge, get me out of there, get me a few jobs that paid well enough to... well, to get some other jobs, anyway. Enough to get a few little enhancements. Wouldn't mind a few more, but... well, that's the way it goes. You're paying, right?

Got any references? What, you wanna talk to my mom? She says to tell you I'm not living up to my potential, or she would, if she weren't stoned off her ass again. Don't get mad at her, she's had a shit life. She's all right when she's high. She's an asshole when she's sober. I guess you could talk to some of the regulars at the bar if you really want.

What's your dream? I want to put one of the big ones together. You know, when you get all those little bits of information, and they come together into one big picture and it's like... oh, shit. One of those. I want to do one of those, the ones that could change the world. And maybe I will or maybe I wont, but like... I just wanna know. Information's its own high, I guess, and we've all got our addictions.

Recent Picture:
Don't wank on it, okay?

Art by Kittichai Rueangchaichan (Razaras)

Other Info:
Pronouns: she/her
Age: 25
Height: 5'6"
Weight: ...Look, the only reason you need to know that is if you're planning on chopping me up for meat. Are you planning on chopping me up for meat?

kittichai-rueangchaichan-razaras-engee-razarasxhuion.jpg

Did you need anything else, hon? 'Cause I've got other customers...
[spoiler/]

Handle: Saxyman
Full name: Saxton Jaxson
Role/s: Merc or edgerunner
Abilities and gear: Absolutely depends on the job. I don't carry things around for shits and giggles. I've got a stronghold where I store all of my gear and it's in a safe and secret location. I don't trust others not to jack it from me. I'm almost a jack of all trades, except… well, I'm kind of scrawny, so hand to hand combat is my weak point. But! I'm a scrapper and not a quitter. So, there's that.

Cyberware: I came into some money, so I decided to get some help for fighting up close and personal in the form of an implanted Linear frame. It's not the best of the best, but it's pretty handy at keeping me mostly alive. Well, the pain editor chipware helps too, but I'm still getting used to that and forget it at times. Courtesy of a single benefactor that wanted me to find and follow his corpo son, I was given a homing tracer and to make sure I'm not being lied to, I ponied up and got a voice stress analyzer. Saving up for more cyber enhancements, such as cyber arms to have guns or legs for higher jumping. I also really want to get some fashionware.

Where did you come from?: I'm not sure how that's relevant, but alright. Mom and dad were junkies. I mean, just look at my name. I'm pretty sure I was born in a crack house. Dad died when I was three and mom started to date others. Or sell herself… not sure which. Anyways, they decided beating on me was super cool and mom let it happen so she could get her drugs. Fast forward about three years and I was taken from home and thrust into a foster home. It wasn't much better except there were no drugs. I was nothing more than a paycheck to the family. Until I ran away and found myself traveling from Vegas to Night City.

The Greys took me in after I was nearly beaten to death my first night in the city and taught me how to survive. I went on from them and honed my skills to become one of the best nerc around. Or, at least in my mind I'm one of the best. Let's just say I'm pretty damn good.

Got any references?: I've been sleeping in the bed of a pink-haired hottie that helped me in a scrap when I was jumped, so maybe him? He doesn't like strangers that much though. I was just sexy enough to catch his eyes though, so I got lucky. Hmm, maybe the Greys? If they'd talk to you. Definitely not my foster parents or biological mother. She's probably toast anyways.

What's your dream?: Dreams? What are those? I grew up dreaming I'd break free of the hell I was in, but when I got shifted to that foster home, those dreams shattered. Now, I'm just trying to be happy with my boyfriend and make sure I come home to him every night.

Recent picture:

Art by touken ranbu

Other Basic Info:
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Height: 6’0
Weight: 136lbs

Handle: Bunny, Bun for friends, bun-bun for In/outputs.

Role/s: A hot mess, but I try to specialize in stealth related jobs. Quickhacking solo with fun techy knowledge.

Abilities: I'm good at scouting, blinding gonks to take them out, quickhacking, stealing and killing.

***
Gear:

When it comes to Iron, lately I've been packing a fun HJKE-11 YUKIMURA smart pistol, Overwatch sniper rifle that I take with it's an outdoor job and is silenced, and a M251S AJAX AR with thermal damage. I have wolvers for close combat, and a smart link ofc.

Then there's the cyber part. Interface plugs, STEPHENSON TECH MK.2 Cyberdeck (5 slots, Ping, Memory Wipe, Reboot Optics, Weapon Glitch, Synapse Burnout is my usual build but I shuffle according to the job), the cheaper kerenzikov, 2 MK2 Kiroshi optics with chyron, color shift, and microOptics. Amplification in the ears, and reinforced tendons in both legs. I got some light subdermal armor after this last one, because extra jumps come with extra bruises, won't stop most bullets though.

Cyberware:

A lot of fashionware, including a biomonitor, light tattoos and EMP threading. You don't need all the deets on that part.

Neural link, Cybereyes, cyberaudio suite, a standard cyberhand and cyberlegs with realskin covering.

***
Where did you come from?:

Got thrown into the streets of Watson, and stayed between its southern districts, the center, and japan town mostly. Really I've moved around a lot. Then it's been odd jobs and gangs, some more humilliating than others, until now. I was living on my own, fucking the (past) landlord, but It's gotten old and I'm making better money as a merc. Hence why I'm looking for chooms. It's sucked a lot, but I've also met a lot of people.

Got any references?: Past landlord will speak wonders of me

, and some motel workers around Kabuki know I'm solid.

What's your dream?: Private booth at the Afterlife, become a filthy rich living legend, and I NEED TO GET LYNX PAWS INSTALLED they're awesome and 85k ;_;

Recent picture: You'll see me in the interview or you won't, lol.

***
Other:
Age: 29
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 127 lbs

I have a BD recorder installed, but it's been deactivated by my past employers, nasal filters that work whenever they fucking like, and very, very rarely decide I don't deserve to live. I've managed. I have room for a chip, but I don't use it, ever. A.I. Bunny is my Agent, by the way.

Congrats. If you're seeing this response It's because you've caught my interest. That and we might be living together. So you deserve to know a bit about me as well.

[OOC] Reference & Characters

Hollow glade

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Hollow glade

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Hollow glade

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