"I'm not a man or a machine. I'm just something in between. I'm all love - a dynamo. So push the button and let me go."
- Lovin' Every Minute of It 1984 Zomba Enterprises, Inc. (ASCAP)
SOUL AND THE NEW MACHINE
As a Cyberpunk, you grab technology by the throat and hang on. You're not afraid to check out the newest in enhancements, cybertech, and bio-engineering. You're got interface plugs in your wrists, weapons in your arms, lasers in your eyes, bio chip 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 light speed all over the new network of micro-nets, Data Fortresses, and Artificial Intelligences. With cyborg fingers, you pick computer locks, with enhanced senses, you see into the Future.
The Cyberpunk world takes place in the future. It's a violent, dangerous place, filled with people who'd love to rip your arms off and eat them. The traditional concepts of good and evil have been replaced by the values of expedience - you do what you must to survive. This is especially true in the Time of The Red, when an atomic bombing and a massive war between Megacorporations have ravaged the few vestiges of civilization that would be familiar to people in society today.
ITS ALWAYS PERSONAL
The rule is it's always personal. Survival is personal - and the hallmark of these dark times. Cyberpunk characters are survivors in a tough, grim world, faced with life and death choices. How they make these choices will influence whether they end up as vicious animals roaming a ruined world or retain something of their basic humanity. Cyberpunk characters are the heroes of a bad situation, working to make it better whenever they can. Whether it takes committing crimes, defying authority, or even outright revolution, the quintessential Cyberpunk character is a rebel with a cause.
STYLE OVER SUBSTANCE
It doesn't matter how well you do something, as long as you look good doing it. If you're going to blow it, make sure you look like you planned it that way. Normally, clothes and looks don't matter in an adventure, but in this world, having a leather armor jacket and mirror shades is a serious consideration.
ATTITUDE IS EVERYTHING
It's true. Think dangerous, be dangerous. Think weak, be weak. Everything on the 2000s is carrying lethal hardware. Each character in this world is playing a part - a face that person projects to the outside world as the real thing. Never walk into a room when you can stride in. Never look at someone unless you can make it your best killer look. Don't sit around the flat or cube waiting for the next job - get out and hit the clubs and hangouts. Make sure you're where the party starts.
LIVE ON THE EDGE
The Edge is that nebulous zone where risk-takers and high-riders go. On the Edge, you'll risk your cash, your rep, and even your life on something as vague as a principle or a big score. As a Cyberpunk, you want to be the action, start the rebellion, light the fire. Never drive slow when you can drive fast. Throw yourself up against danger and take it head on. Never play it too safe. Stay committed to the Edge.
In the United States, thirty two years of corrupt government and financial destabilization resulted in a nation divided. An atomic bomb and a massive war between Megacorporations, known as the 4th Corporate War, ravaged the few vestiges of civilization that would be familiar to people in society today.
It is the Time of the Red.
Cyberpunks are survivors in a tough, grim world, faced with life and death choices. They're heroes in a bad situation, working to make it better whenever they can. Whether it takes crime, defying authority, or revolution, they are rebels with a cause. They follow three concepts: Style over substance, Attitude is everything, and Live on the edge.
Biotechnica is no stranger to cutting edge genetic engineering. Their 'super crops' and 'Orchards' are helping curb the food crisis across America. Organizations like the Food Investor’s Corp (FIC) have fully endorsed these endeavors. In the last year Biotechnica has revealed what they call 'Reference Forests' to help restore decimated forests and rebuild the lumber industry. With three of these forests already up and running, Biotechnica has been working to grow their operations. The yield from each Reference Forest is enough to rebuild small communities.
However, not everyone is happy about the Reference Forests. Green Fist, an environmental activist group, has demanded that Biotechnica be shut down for harming Mother Nature. In a statement from Green Fist’s founder, "Green Hammer," he explains that, "These genetically engineered trees are an abomination to the Earth. They destroy the ecosystems around them and don’t allow for natural selection. Not to mention that most of the trees grown are not native to the lands they’re grown on. It’s just one big cash-grab, man! We need to shut it down." Some scientists agree with the activist group, but most don’t.
Professor Geri McKennel, lead arborist for Biotechnica had this to say: "What we are doing here is rebuilding whole forests in a matter of a few short years. This is producing clean air and helping restore the natural order. These activists just don’t understand. Yes, we have some trees that aren’t native, but by growing them we may someday produce trees that will be able to grow in the most inhospitable places. We could even grow trees on Mars." The idea does sound amazing, but only time will tell if these Reference Forests are our friend or our end.
I was in the military and used to be a Trauma Team Doctor in Night City. Now i'm a mercenary. I still practice medicine, but I do so on my own terms. My group and I work for much more powerful individuals willing to pay us and who are not interested in getting their hands dirty. How did it get this way? Well. That's a story for another time. Let's just say I love the excitement and challenge being an edgerunner brings. That high. I love the capers. The thrills. Most importantly, the regular feeling of helping the wounded - which is usually my fellow edgerunners. Sometimes things go wrong. And there I am. Sometimes someone needs healing. And there I am. I'm loyal to them, and sometimes something needs to be shot. And there I am. They know I have their back, and they have mine. And there we are.
I'm a blonde. Dark blue eyes. Very little cybernetics. I'm about five foot nine, a hundred and thirty pounds of good eating (as good as it can get) regular exercise thanks to my military training, and a pretty good bedside manner. I like helping people and, well, making money, too. I've also got some pretty crazy stories to share.
But, right now is a story of how we got a job protecting an area of forest for Biotechnica somewhere in the free state of Northern California.
Full name or even my real name don't matter. What you want to know is what I can do, and how I got here, right? Well, let's start with the story then, that's always fun~ I'm from a Nomad Pack, land Nomads specifically. Born and raised in the family, and grew up knowing all the kinks and tricks to being a driver. I'll be honest, didn't have the cleanest track record, but honestly, who does? The family tried to be honest and good to our word and consciousness', but that didn't keep us from being tricked by some wannabe politicians from splitting us up. In a mad-dash, I lost my sister, and so now I'm here. Working my way around the world, looking for her. But hey, that's me, this is a job.
Now as to what I can do? I can do a lot more than the average street-kid, that's for sure. For starters, I bring a better aim than most, along with my technical know-how. Nothing special so far right? Well, that's where I start to get interesting, being from a Nomad pack, before the mad-dash, I managed to grab my ride, a Quadra Type-60, but you can just call her, "Beastie". She's my pride and joy, with a heavy chassis, combat plow, bulletproof glass, and tank of NOS, all that combined makes her an all-round battering ram, good at getting anyone in or out of tight spots~ Seats four, including myself, though you can always squeeze someone into the trunk if you're feeling weird. Any crew or job I'm in, Beastie here follows, and trust me, you want her on your team.
As for me, I ain't much to look at. Just above average-looking with a sharp jaw and eyes, hidden by my military cowboy look, covering my t-shirt and like. I don't got much in the way of cybernetic, too pricey for a guy with a full-time dedication like Beastie.
Anyhow, hope we all get along, but if we don't, remember, I can kick you out of my ride and run you over whenever I want, so don't be an ass. See you in the forest.
My name doesn’t matter. You can call me IO. Or Spider. I don’t care. Don’t let my Arab accent deceive you, I’ll speak circles around you and make you sick from the dizziness. And when you least expect it, I’ll ghost you. You might be wondering how one can ghost without a number, but I knew your all numbers before setting eyes on you. And I can take it all away with a flick of my wrist. You are not safe from my eyes….
That is if I cared enough to spend my time on you that is. I have better things to spend my time on. I’m a netrunner. And like my name suggests, I’m in and out, crawling through any web I can get my hands on, tugging at all the threads, finding any openings, exploiting any weaknesses, and taking what seems valuable. Technology is my strength, my weapon, and my passion. And I work magic on them.
Pulling a reverse Drake, starting from the top and now at the bottom, I’ve found my stride. To be fair, everyone up there were too simple, too complacent, too routine. By comparison, watching paint would be more enjoyable than living like that. Just joined a motley crew who seem as curious as I am. I still do my own work as fixers sometimes pass me work to do for people and even the occasional desperate corpo. For now, I call this place home for the time being. I’ll run my simulations and see if it continues to be worth the effort.
My childhood was pretty cushy. I lived in suburbia, kept safe from the world outside, at least until I was old enough to join the family business that is.
I was always hiding in the shadows as a little girl, pretending I wasn’t there. I didn’t want to interact with others, I liked to be alone. Maybe if I hadn’t been so shy and introverted as a child I wouldn’t be where I am now. My family was good at playing to a person’s natural talents when assigning positions. Training started at the age of twelve, that’s when your childhood was officially over.
“She will make an excellent assassin.” This was the decree of my grandfather and so my destiny was set from that moment on.
Welcome to the Kimura family business where everyone plays their part and you put family above all. Or in my case, until your family screws you over. In case you haven’t figured it out, my family’s “business” was not your average mom and pop shop. We ran a successful mid to high level crime syndicate. I was on the enforcement crew, my sister was part of our tech crew, my older brother was being groomed to run the whole operation when the time came for my father to hand over the reins.
I eliminated my first mark at the age of 16. A smaller crime organization was attempting to push it’s way into the big leagues. They had made the very bad decision to encroach on Kimura family territory. At 11:32 on a Monday night I lay on the roof of the building across the street from Sakamoto Enterprises. All my training had come to this. I took a deep breath, looked through my scope, sited my target and oh so gently pulled the trigger. Hirkaru Sakamoto dropped to the floor, dead. They learned their lesson and stayed away, I learned what it was like to kill someone. I thought it would be worse, but really, it wasn’t a big deal. I’m pretty sure that makes me a bit of a monster but it really helps in my line of work. I do have a line that I won’t cross. I won’t kill innocent women and children so maybe I’m not totally lost.
When you train as an assassin your first marks are always ranged, you don’t get up close until you’ve gotten over the initial resistance to eliminating a mark. In person is much more personal which makes you much more likely to make a mistake. I moved on to up close and personal at the age of eighteen, just before I left the family.
Well, I say left the family but it was more like telling them f**k off and die, I never want to see you again. Guess I was a little bitter about the whole situation with Umeko. She was the love of my life and now she’s gone, vanished to who knows where. I don’t even know if she is still alive. My uncle will pay with his life for her disappearance but first I have to find out what happened to her.
Being an assassin is not difficult for me. It doesn’t hurt that I am small, only a little over five foot and slender but toned from all the conditioning we were put through in training. I keep my dark hair short so it’s easy to disguise if necessary. You will find me dressed in black leathers with my weapons at hand. I was trained in both firearms and hand to hand combat and I don’t shy away from either. I don’t like to stand out so I keep to myself. I live in the shadows, staying under the radar of my ex-family earning money with odd jobs, still searching for her. Looks like I’m off to the forest, this will be new as I’ve always been more of a city girl.
I got the call on a Monday. Biotechnica wanted to see me. For a job. Normally, a call like this would have come from a fixer - that's what they do and how they make eddies - by introducing people like me to people like Biotechnica.
It's fine. I was spending the morning looking over a patient at the Trauma Ward, and could of used the distraction. One of Misha's good friends had been hit by a car, badly. She nearly died. She was a huge mess. The surgeries alone were exhausting, and i'm used to being on my feet and working long hours. I've known Misha for years - met her in the military. You could say i'm her personal physician. She looks out for me, and I look out for her. She hires me to look over her, medically, and other people she knows, and she pays me well. Misha's got banged up pretty good before, but this time her good friend needed help - so when Jenna came into the Ward looking like hamburger, Misha called me immediately. So there I was, and I did my best to save her. Which I was able to.
Now, back to the call.
I was escorted to a very large corporate building, like the one in the picture above. I took it from the car, on my Agent. Inside, I was checked in and escorted dozens of floors up into a sterile, fancy, corporate office with beautiful furniture, fancy artwork, and well dressed people. It was huge, and there was a waiting room. Inside were four other individuals. They looked like mercenaries, like me. It was clear they were also waiting for the briefing, like I was, but we didn't know what about.
"Hello."I said, nodding. I was wearing my hair in a neat ponytail, and I had on my dark office wear. Trim, tight, and neat. "Are you all here for the job, too?"
I got a lead on this job from a fixer that I met while handling a small 'scare the shit out of them but leave them alive' job. Normally this would not be my thing but I'm low on eb so beggars can't be choosers. I walked into the corp building not making eye contact but not avoiding it, as I didn't want to be remembered by anyone. I kept a low profile, and didn't talk with the guy escorting me up. I made sure I knew where all the exits were. When I entered the office to wait, I stayed near the door and kept to myself. Looked like this was a group job as others were waiting here too. Not my favorite but it would pay some bills.
It was a normal morning, had woken up and washed up a bit before heading out of my unit to check Beastie. Was in the middle of checking the air, when I got a call from my usual fixer. He'd been contacted by Biotechnica asking for a driver, and knowing that I was nomad, he rang me up and texted me the details, albeit barebones as they were. All I got was a time, place, and advice to wash up before heading in. Personally, Corps weren't my favorite people, they were too similar to politicians for me to like, not to mention a certain someone I'm still avoiding...still BT was in my good book. Their farms often gave work to Nomad Packs looking for jobs, not to mention, food and fuel are a nomad's lifeblood.
Arriving a tad early, I'd flash cleaned my usual clothes and even took a stroll past a food stall so I could cancel out my usual motor smell with some food and spices. That said, I still drew looks as I walked into the building with my cowboy hat and trenchcoat. A part of me enjoyed the attention, the rest didn't care for it. Thankfully the attendants were cute enough, and they were polite and good enough at their jobs to keep their mouths shut until I got into the room where I had to wait. Noticing some Asian Urban Flash chick already there, he tipped his hat and flashed a smile, before taking his own seat. As the others came, he noticed the urge for silence, and simply hummed a tune while keeping his hat down.
When the 5th person arrived, he tipped his hat up with a pair of fingers, looking over. Flashing a toothy smile, he called over, "Hey yourself, and I suppose we are, seeing how they're putting us in a room together~" The caucasian man had a light and warm tone, with a mixed American accent. That combined with his looks made it clear that he was a Nomad to anyone with a basic knowledge of the city and what lay beyond it. Looking around, he chuckles and speaks toward the group, still not bothering to stand, "I suppose we're due for introductions since one of us got talking. Can call me Qrow, I'm a Nomad~"
After the Medtech and Nomad introduce themselves I clench my hands together for a moment and then relax them, wishing the silence would have lasted a little longer. Great, looks like those two are going to be talkers. I have learned that not interacting with a group of people makes them untrusting and suspicious so I do what I must. I look toward the two and respond. "You can call me Reaper." My voice is just loud enough for everyone to hear, my expression neutral.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Olivia."she said, extending her hand and shaking yours, should you wish. "A nomad, eh? I've heard about nomads. Where are you from?" she asked, just to break the ice, and the silence.
I grin, returning the handshake, "Wanting to get to know me already? And haven't even bought me dinner yet!~" I chuckle at my own joke before nodding politely, "I kid, but I from the Midwest. Think Texas and you're not to far off."
Glancing over to Reaper as she speaks up, I tip my aviators down and wink, "And nice to meet you to lady death. I'd call you tall dark and beautiful, but I don't want to be rude~"
Perfect, he's a flirt too. This just keeps getting better and better. I give Qrow a slight smile, just enough to acknowledge but not enough to encourage, hoping his attention will turn elsewhere.
Olivia chuckled, amused by Qrow's response. "A sense of humor, good. We'll work well together. It's got potential. Texas! Very nice. I've been there a few times."
She turned to Reaper. "Wow, he moves fast, doesn't he? Hi. I like your name. Makes you sound dangerous and mysterious. Which, i'm sure you are, on both counts. Does anyone have any idea what this is about?"
It was another day, another review, another tugging on threads that could lead to something. Simple day with simple pleasures. Little did I expect to be receiving a call from a fixer who I told could call me if they got a bead on a job worth my time. He told me that Biotechnica was looking for an edgerunner with a unique set of skills and it made him think of me. I wasn’t entirely happy to work for a corp, but pay was a little stifled these days, and a girl had to eat.
I pinged the fixer from a burner and told him that I was interested and that I would take it. Before I could dispose of the phone, I get a call telling me a car would be pulling up to my location in mere moments and I had like 10 minutes to prepare my stuff. Jokes on them, I’m always prepared to bounce. Still, the call was so short, I didn’t have time to trace or ask any question. It was all very fast, and it’s hard to catch me off guard.
The ride was a little a strange, the way the ride felt like the driver was trying his best to avoid streets with known cameras. It was a little too indirect. Still, he took me to a very big and shiny building, which I assume that it’ll be where the job would be. The driver then handed me a paper with instructions on what to do next. All very cryptic. It piqued my curiosity, and now I want to know more.
I found myself in a small room with a few people. So this is the crew… Seems roughly put together, but also it seems like trouble was expected. A solo and medic. A frown was starting to form on her face. “IO. Netrunner.” Her Egyptian accent bled through a little despite her attempts to hide it.
"Olivia."she said, nodding. "Nice to meet you guys."
A couple seconds of awkward silence. Then she spoke again, wanting to fill the room with something besides the silence and corporate droning of machines. Or was the the AC?
"I work for Trauma Team when i'm not doing stuff like this. I actually work there part time. On call. That sort of thing. Never actually been in this building. It's nice!"she said, looking around.
It's interesting to me how silence can make some people so uncomfortable. I love silence and even seek it out but I can tell that it's bothering Olivia. Do I help out? I will be working with these people so I guess I will have to talk with them at some point. "Info on the job was pretty sparse on my end, sounds like it was similar for you?" She replies to Olivia.
Relieved to hear some conversation, as most of the time when she was on the job, it was either quiet surgery or barking out orders in the ER Ward. Sometimes, for her, talking was just a pleasant thing to do, and she was definitely on the more extrovert side.
"Ah, ok. Yes." she admitted. "I was wondering if everyone got the same amount of information besides 'meet here at this place and time'."
She took a seat and crossed her legs, hands in her lap. She turned towards IO. "I wanted to ask you, is that a middle eastern accent i'm detecting?"
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"I'm not a man or a machine. I'm just something in between.
I'm all love - a dynamo.
So push the button and let me go."
- Lovin' Every Minute of It 1984 Zomba Enterprises, Inc. (ASCAP)
SOUL AND THE NEW MACHINE
As a Cyberpunk, you grab technology by the throat and hang on. You're not afraid to check out the newest in enhancements, cybertech, and bio-engineering. You're got interface plugs in your wrists, weapons in your arms, lasers in your eyes, bio chip 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 light speed all over the new network of micro-nets, Data Fortresses, and Artificial Intelligences. With cyborg fingers, you pick computer locks, with enhanced senses, you see into the Future.
The Cyberpunk world takes place in the future. It's a violent, dangerous place, filled with people who'd love to rip your arms off and eat them. The traditional concepts of good and evil have been replaced by the values of expedience - you do what you must to survive. This is especially true in the Time of The Red, when an atomic bombing and a massive war between Megacorporations have ravaged the few vestiges of civilization that would be familiar to people in society today.
ITS ALWAYS PERSONAL
The rule is it's always personal. Survival is personal - and the hallmark of these dark times. Cyberpunk characters are survivors in a tough, grim world, faced with life and death choices. How they make these choices will influence whether they end up as vicious animals roaming a ruined world or retain something of their basic humanity. Cyberpunk characters are the heroes of a bad situation, working to make it better whenever they can. Whether it takes committing crimes, defying authority, or even outright revolution, the quintessential Cyberpunk character is a rebel with a cause.
STYLE OVER SUBSTANCE
It doesn't matter how well you do something, as long as you look good doing it. If you're going to blow it, make sure you look like you planned it that way. Normally, clothes and looks don't matter in an adventure, but in this world, having a leather armor jacket and mirror shades is a serious consideration.
ATTITUDE IS EVERYTHING
It's true. Think dangerous, be dangerous. Think weak, be weak. Everything on the 2000s is carrying lethal hardware. Each character in this world is playing a part - a face that person projects to the outside world as the real thing. Never walk into a room when you can stride in. Never look at someone unless you can make it your best killer look. Don't sit around the flat or cube waiting for the next job - get out and hit the clubs and hangouts. Make sure you're where the party starts.
LIVE ON THE EDGE
The Edge is that nebulous zone where risk-takers and high-riders go. On the Edge, you'll risk your cash, your rep, and even your life on something as vague as a principle or a big score. As a Cyberpunk, you want to be the action, start the rebellion, light the fire. Never drive slow when you can drive fast. Throw yourself up against danger and take it head on. Never play it too safe. Stay committed to the Edge.
In the United States, thirty two years of corrupt government and financial destabilization resulted in a nation divided. An atomic bomb and a massive war between Megacorporations, known as the 4th Corporate War, ravaged the few vestiges of civilization that would be familiar to people in society today.
It is the Time of the Red.
Cyberpunks are survivors in a tough, grim world, faced with life and death choices. They're heroes in a bad situation, working to make it better whenever they can. Whether it takes crime, defying authority, or revolution, they are rebels with a cause. They follow three concepts: Style over substance, Attitude is everything, and Live on the edge.
NIGHT CITY NEWS: TODAY 3:56PM
REFERENCE FORESTS: CONTROVERSY?
BY JACKIE MCGEE
Biotechnica is no stranger to cutting edge genetic engineering. Their 'super crops' and 'Orchards' are helping curb the food crisis across America. Organizations like the Food Investor’s Corp (FIC) have fully endorsed these endeavors. In the last year Biotechnica has revealed what they call 'Reference Forests' to help restore decimated forests and rebuild the lumber industry. With three of these forests already up and running, Biotechnica has been working to grow their operations. The yield from each Reference Forest is enough to rebuild small communities.
However, not everyone is happy about the Reference Forests. Green Fist, an environmental activist group, has demanded that Biotechnica be shut down for harming Mother Nature. In a statement from Green Fist’s founder, "Green Hammer," he explains that, "These genetically engineered trees are an abomination to the Earth. They destroy the ecosystems around them and don’t allow for natural selection. Not to mention that most of the trees grown are not native to the lands they’re grown on. It’s just one big cash-grab, man! We need to shut it down." Some scientists agree with the activist group, but most don’t.
Professor Geri McKennel, lead arborist for Biotechnica had this to say: "What we are doing here is rebuilding whole forests in a matter of a few short years. This is producing clean air and helping restore the natural order. These activists just don’t understand. Yes, we have some trees that aren’t native, but by growing them we may someday produce trees that will be able to grow in the most inhospitable places. We could even grow trees on Mars." The idea does sound amazing, but only time will tell if these Reference Forests are our friend or our end.
OLIVIA RAMSEY
MEDTECH
My name is Olivia Ramsey.
I was in the military and used to be a Trauma Team Doctor in Night City. Now i'm a mercenary. I still practice medicine, but I do so on my own terms. My group and I work for much more powerful individuals willing to pay us and who are not interested in getting their hands dirty. How did it get this way? Well. That's a story for another time. Let's just say I love the excitement and challenge being an edgerunner brings. That high. I love the capers. The thrills. Most importantly, the regular feeling of helping the wounded - which is usually my fellow edgerunners. Sometimes things go wrong. And there I am. Sometimes someone needs healing. And there I am. I'm loyal to them, and sometimes something needs to be shot. And there I am. They know I have their back, and they have mine. And there we are.
I'm a blonde. Dark blue eyes. Very little cybernetics. I'm about five foot nine, a hundred and thirty pounds of good eating (as good as it can get) regular exercise thanks to my military training, and a pretty good bedside manner. I like helping people and, well, making money, too. I've also got some pretty crazy stories to share.
But, right now is a story of how we got a job protecting an area of forest for Biotechnica somewhere in the free state of Northern California.
People call me, QROW
And I'm a NOMAD
Full name or even my real name don't matter. What you want to know is what I can do, and how I got here, right? Well, let's start with the story then, that's always fun~ I'm from a Nomad Pack, land Nomads specifically. Born and raised in the family, and grew up knowing all the kinks and tricks to being a driver. I'll be honest, didn't have the cleanest track record, but honestly, who does? The family tried to be honest and good to our word and consciousness', but that didn't keep us from being tricked by some wannabe politicians from splitting us up. In a mad-dash, I lost my sister, and so now I'm here. Working my way around the world, looking for her. But hey, that's me, this is a job.
Now as to what I can do? I can do a lot more than the average street-kid, that's for sure. For starters, I bring a better aim than most, along with my technical know-how. Nothing special so far right? Well, that's where I start to get interesting, being from a Nomad pack, before the mad-dash, I managed to grab my ride, a Quadra Type-60, but you can just call her, "Beastie". She's my pride and joy, with a heavy chassis, combat plow, bulletproof glass, and tank of NOS, all that combined makes her an all-round battering ram, good at getting anyone in or out of tight spots~ Seats four, including myself, though you can always squeeze someone into the trunk if you're feeling weird. Any crew or job I'm in, Beastie here follows, and trust me, you want her on your team.
As for me, I ain't much to look at. Just above average-looking with a sharp jaw and eyes, hidden by my military cowboy look, covering my t-shirt and like. I don't got much in the way of cybernetic, too pricey for a guy with a full-time dedication like Beastie.
Anyhow, hope we all get along, but if we don't, remember, I can kick you out of my ride and run you over whenever I want, so don't be an ass. See you in the forest.
My name doesn’t matter. You can call me IO. Or Spider. I don’t care. Don’t let my Arab accent deceive you, I’ll speak circles around you and make you sick from the dizziness. And when you least expect it, I’ll ghost you. You might be wondering how one can ghost without a number, but I knew your all numbers before setting eyes on you. And I can take it all away with a flick of my wrist. You are not safe from my eyes….
That is if I cared enough to spend my time on you that is. I have better things to spend my time on. I’m a netrunner. And like my name suggests, I’m in and out, crawling through any web I can get my hands on, tugging at all the threads, finding any openings, exploiting any weaknesses, and taking what seems valuable. Technology is my strength, my weapon, and my passion. And I work magic on them.
Pulling a reverse Drake, starting from the top and now at the bottom, I’ve found my stride. To be fair, everyone up there were too simple, too complacent, too routine. By comparison, watching paint would be more enjoyable than living like that. Just joined a motley crew who seem as curious as I am. I still do my own work as fixers sometimes pass me work to do for people and even the occasional desperate corpo. For now, I call this place home for the time being. I’ll run my simulations and see if it continues to be worth the effort.
Reaper's the name, death is my game.
My childhood was pretty cushy. I lived in suburbia, kept safe from the world outside, at least until I was old enough to join the family business that is.
I was always hiding in the shadows as a little girl, pretending I wasn’t there. I didn’t want to interact with others, I liked to be alone. Maybe if I hadn’t been so shy and introverted as a child I wouldn’t be where I am now. My family was good at playing to a person’s natural talents when assigning positions. Training started at the age of twelve, that’s when your childhood was officially over.
“She will make an excellent assassin.” This was the decree of my grandfather and so my destiny was set from that moment on.
Welcome to the Kimura family business where everyone plays their part and you put family above all. Or in my case, until your family screws you over. In case you haven’t figured it out, my family’s “business” was not your average mom and pop shop. We ran a successful mid to high level crime syndicate. I was on the enforcement crew, my sister was part of our tech crew, my older brother was being groomed to run the whole operation when the time came for my father to hand over the reins.
I eliminated my first mark at the age of 16. A smaller crime organization was attempting to push it’s way into the big leagues. They had made the very bad decision to encroach on Kimura family territory. At 11:32 on a Monday night I lay on the roof of the building across the street from Sakamoto Enterprises. All my training had come to this. I took a deep breath, looked through my scope, sited my target and oh so gently pulled the trigger. Hirkaru Sakamoto dropped to the floor, dead. They learned their lesson and stayed away, I learned what it was like to kill someone. I thought it would be worse, but really, it wasn’t a big deal. I’m pretty sure that makes me a bit of a monster but it really helps in my line of work. I do have a line that I won’t cross. I won’t kill innocent women and children so maybe I’m not totally lost.
When you train as an assassin your first marks are always ranged, you don’t get up close until you’ve gotten over the initial resistance to eliminating a mark. In person is much more personal which makes you much more likely to make a mistake. I moved on to up close and personal at the age of eighteen, just before I left the family.
Well, I say left the family but it was more like telling them f**k off and die, I never want to see you again. Guess I was a little bitter about the whole situation with Umeko. She was the love of my life and now she’s gone, vanished to who knows where. I don’t even know if she is still alive. My uncle will pay with his life for her disappearance but first I have to find out what happened to her.
Being an assassin is not difficult for me. It doesn’t hurt that I am small, only a little over five foot and slender but toned from all the conditioning we were put through in training. I keep my dark hair short so it’s easy to disguise if necessary. You will find me dressed in black leathers with my weapons at hand. I was trained in both firearms and hand to hand combat and I don’t shy away from either. I don’t like to stand out so I keep to myself. I live in the shadows, staying under the radar of my ex-family earning money with odd jobs, still searching for her. Looks like I’m off to the forest, this will be new as I’ve always been more of a city girl.
NIGHT CITY
AFTERNOON
MONDAY
I got the call on a Monday. Biotechnica wanted to see me. For a job. Normally, a call like this would have come from a fixer - that's what they do and how they make eddies - by introducing people like me to people like Biotechnica.
It's fine. I was spending the morning looking over a patient at the Trauma Ward, and could of used the distraction. One of Misha's good friends had been hit by a car, badly. She nearly died. She was a huge mess. The surgeries alone were exhausting, and i'm used to being on my feet and working long hours. I've known Misha for years - met her in the military. You could say i'm her personal physician. She looks out for me, and I look out for her. She hires me to look over her, medically, and other people she knows, and she pays me well. Misha's got banged up pretty good before, but this time her good friend needed help - so when Jenna came into the Ward looking like hamburger, Misha called me immediately. So there I was, and I did my best to save her. Which I was able to.
Now, back to the call.
I was escorted to a very large corporate building, like the one in the picture above. I took it from the car, on my Agent. Inside, I was checked in and escorted dozens of floors up into a sterile, fancy, corporate office with beautiful furniture, fancy artwork, and well dressed people. It was huge, and there was a waiting room. Inside were four other individuals. They looked like mercenaries, like me. It was clear they were also waiting for the briefing, like I was, but we didn't know what about.
"Hello." I said, nodding. I was wearing my hair in a neat ponytail, and I had on my dark office wear. Trim, tight, and neat. "Are you all here for the job, too?"
I was hoping one of them would answer me.
I got a lead on this job from a fixer that I met while handling a small 'scare the shit out of them but leave them alive' job. Normally this would not be my thing but I'm low on eb so beggars can't be choosers. I walked into the corp building not making eye contact but not avoiding it, as I didn't want to be remembered by anyone. I kept a low profile, and didn't talk with the guy escorting me up. I made sure I knew where all the exits were. When I entered the office to wait, I stayed near the door and kept to myself. Looked like this was a group job as others were waiting here too. Not my favorite but it would pay some bills.
It was a normal morning, had woken up and washed up a bit before heading out of my unit to check Beastie. Was in the middle of checking the air, when I got a call from my usual fixer. He'd been contacted by Biotechnica asking for a driver, and knowing that I was nomad, he rang me up and texted me the details, albeit barebones as they were. All I got was a time, place, and advice to wash up before heading in. Personally, Corps weren't my favorite people, they were too similar to politicians for me to like, not to mention a certain someone I'm still avoiding...still BT was in my good book. Their farms often gave work to Nomad Packs looking for jobs, not to mention, food and fuel are a nomad's lifeblood.
Arriving a tad early, I'd flash cleaned my usual clothes and even took a stroll past a food stall so I could cancel out my usual motor smell with some food and spices. That said, I still drew looks as I walked into the building with my cowboy hat and trenchcoat. A part of me enjoyed the attention, the rest didn't care for it. Thankfully the attendants were cute enough, and they were polite and good enough at their jobs to keep their mouths shut until I got into the room where I had to wait. Noticing some Asian Urban Flash chick already there, he tipped his hat and flashed a smile, before taking his own seat. As the others came, he noticed the urge for silence, and simply hummed a tune while keeping his hat down.
When the 5th person arrived, he tipped his hat up with a pair of fingers, looking over. Flashing a toothy smile, he called over, "Hey yourself, and I suppose we are, seeing how they're putting us in a room together~" The caucasian man had a light and warm tone, with a mixed American accent. That combined with his looks made it clear that he was a Nomad to anyone with a basic knowledge of the city and what lay beyond it. Looking around, he chuckles and speaks toward the group, still not bothering to stand, "I suppose we're due for introductions since one of us got talking. Can call me Qrow, I'm a Nomad~"
After the Medtech and Nomad introduce themselves I clench my hands together for a moment and then relax them, wishing the silence would have lasted a little longer. Great, looks like those two are going to be talkers. I have learned that not interacting with a group of people makes them untrusting and suspicious so I do what I must. I look toward the two and respond. "You can call me Reaper." My voice is just loud enough for everyone to hear, my expression neutral.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Olivia." she said, extending her hand and shaking yours, should you wish. "A nomad, eh? I've heard about nomads. Where are you from?" she asked, just to break the ice, and the silence.
I grin, returning the handshake, "Wanting to get to know me already? And haven't even bought me dinner yet!~" I chuckle at my own joke before nodding politely, "I kid, but I from the Midwest. Think Texas and you're not to far off."
Glancing over to Reaper as she speaks up, I tip my aviators down and wink, "And nice to meet you to lady death. I'd call you tall dark and beautiful, but I don't want to be rude~"
Perfect, he's a flirt too. This just keeps getting better and better. I give Qrow a slight smile, just enough to acknowledge but not enough to encourage, hoping his attention will turn elsewhere.
Olivia chuckled, amused by Qrow's response. "A sense of humor, good. We'll work well together. It's got potential. Texas! Very nice. I've been there a few times."
She turned to Reaper. "Wow, he moves fast, doesn't he? Hi. I like your name. Makes you sound dangerous and mysterious. Which, i'm sure you are, on both counts. Does anyone have any idea what this is about?"
It was another day, another review, another tugging on threads that could lead to something. Simple day with simple pleasures. Little did I expect to be receiving a call from a fixer who I told could call me if they got a bead on a job worth my time. He told me that Biotechnica was looking for an edgerunner with a unique set of skills and it made him think of me. I wasn’t entirely happy to work for a corp, but pay was a little stifled these days, and a girl had to eat.
I pinged the fixer from a burner and told him that I was interested and that I would take it. Before I could dispose of the phone, I get a call telling me a car would be pulling up to my location in mere moments and I had like 10 minutes to prepare my stuff. Jokes on them, I’m always prepared to bounce. Still, the call was so short, I didn’t have time to trace or ask any question. It was all very fast, and it’s hard to catch me off guard.
The ride was a little a strange, the way the ride felt like the driver was trying his best to avoid streets with known cameras. It was a little too indirect. Still, he took me to a very big and shiny building, which I assume that it’ll be where the job would be. The driver then handed me a paper with instructions on what to do next. All very cryptic. It piqued my curiosity, and now I want to know more.
I found myself in a small room with a few people. So this is the crew… Seems roughly put together, but also it seems like trouble was expected. A solo and medic. A frown was starting to form on her face.
“IO. Netrunner.”
Her Egyptian accent bled through a little despite her attempts to hide it.
"Olivia." she said, nodding. "Nice to meet you guys."
A couple seconds of awkward silence. Then she spoke again, wanting to fill the room with something besides the silence and corporate droning of machines. Or was the the AC?
"I work for Trauma Team when i'm not doing stuff like this. I actually work there part time. On call. That sort of thing. Never actually been in this building. It's nice!" she said, looking around.
It's interesting to me how silence can make some people so uncomfortable. I love silence and even seek it out but I can tell that it's bothering Olivia. Do I help out? I will be working with these people so I guess I will have to talk with them at some point. "Info on the job was pretty sparse on my end, sounds like it was similar for you?" She replies to Olivia.
Relieved to hear some conversation, as most of the time when she was on the job, it was either quiet surgery or barking out orders in the ER Ward. Sometimes, for her, talking was just a pleasant thing to do, and she was definitely on the more extrovert side.
"Ah, ok. Yes." she admitted. "I was wondering if everyone got the same amount of information besides 'meet here at this place and time'."
She took a seat and crossed her legs, hands in her lap. She turned towards IO. "I wanted to ask you, is that a middle eastern accent i'm detecting?"