Duston Rhodes Jodes [+]

'D U S T Y R H O D E S'
'D U S T Y R H O D E S'

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^{_{"The roads are home, Night City never will be."}}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Duston Rhodes Jodes _________________________________________________________ 23 | ♂ | Bi-Sexual _________________________________________________________ Unmarried | Smuggler/Solo | Jodes Family P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E [+] ▼ P H Y S I C A L T R A I T S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Build - Tall, broad shoulders, well muscled ► Ethnicity - White suntanned ► Hair Colour - Auburn hair and beard ► Eye Colour - Brown eyes ► Other - Cuts, marks, and burns dot his body, mostly healed. - C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S [+] ▼ C H A R A C T E R I T E M S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Custom Quadra Type-66 Avenger "Clydesdale" - Custom tuned Nomad Cruiser, faster and more durable, it's been armored more than average. Built for border jumping, ramming Shiv off the road, and out running anything that it doesn't like though it eschews onboard weapon systems other might enjoy. Hand built and tuned by Dusty. Milspec ► Nomad .44 Magnum Revolver "Sam" - A rebuilt and retooled Colt fourty-four, old and tested with modern actions and equipment onboard it's as lethal as anything you'd pay an overblown gun store for. Basic ► Nomad gun kit - This kit carries the part for two unfinished guns, a grenade launching platform and high end anti-vehicle rifle. As well most tools to service and strip guns even basic spare parts for many fire arms. Expensive ► Nomad .44 Magnum Lever-Action Rifle "Henry" - A common rebuild these shorted rifles are more commonly seen on the bike holsters with cut down barrels for Outriders. Featuring stronger lever with a larger ring allows Dusty to spin it forward then back. Basic ► Jodes Leather Jacket and Bullet proof vest - Nomads gotta Rep there families, their rides and their looks are designed to do just that. Jodes especially take care of their own who range far from the family, as such Dusty has a proper Kevlar vest in with the heavy leather jacket. Basic ► Grafted Muscle - Grown muscled implanted into the body, increasing strength basically undetectable. Basic ► Muscle & Bone Lace: - The result is that the tissue is both stronger (physical strength is enhanced) and more resistant to damage. Muscle and bone lace will enhance overall strength and durability, but not to the degree of an actual artificial cyberlimb. Expensive ▼ K N O W N A S S O C I A T E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Name - Description/Relevance ▼ S K I L L S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Nomad Mechanic - From guns to cars to generators or more, Dusty has fixed them all time and time again. Life among Nomads means everyone has to help however they can, Dusty found his talent for gunsmithing and automotive work early and quickly had many fast friends among the convoy. Guns, Bikes, and Cars are what Nomad life revolves around, thus Dusty's skill meant he became someone they depended on greatly. Nomad mechanics are often asked for in town and cities, the Jodes have some of the best from mostly farming and rural background they know how to fix and keep things going long after the corps have intended them to fail. ► Tire Squeal'n Smuggler - Most of the best drivers have to chip in and run the car with their chrome and if you knock systems it out suddenly their as shit as they come. Manual control, hands on the wheel shifting it up and down at just the right moment. A symphony of engine whines and gear changes or quiet long hauls across empty highways, Dusty can do it all and happily. ► Jodes Cowboy Charisma - Charming and none to easy on the eyes, Dusty has the Jodes backing for his job and knows how to sweet talk his way through. Unlike many others he is really that generous, polite, sensitive about how he makes others feel. The Jodes are more welcoming than most other nations, many link to the remnants of their southern hospitality in trying to make everyone comfortable and welcome over fretting over little things. ► Fast hands, strong hands - The Bioware isn't just for bar fights and mechanic work, his increase strength of hands means his well practice lighting draw is backed up the strength to it on target if they prefer to get closer a mean bash to the skull with three pounds of steel in hand. Practiced in brawling with his siblings and family back home he knows how to throw hands. Shooting and brawling are things you learn growing up, though he's made more friends than corpses in bar fights. ► Pic'n and Grinning - Music is something else that differs between nomad tribes but with their roots firmly placed the South and agriculture. Jodes have loved the sounds of guitars, mournful songs, and other sweet melodies played in that old classic country style. So the music that Dusty brings with him is often different to much of the Night City life, almost alien yet he finds many with Noamd connections or true lovers of sound are quick to ask him about it. He'll sing and play a song a too from his own ability on occasion if asked by a friend. He prefers Blues, Bluegrass, and just about any variation of older country tunes. -

C H A R A C T E R H I S T O R Y C H A R A C T E R H I S T O R Y Born North West territories Duston's earliest memories is of the open road, endless fields of crops, cows, chickens, pigs and more. Early years were spent moving around, as his folks moved between the harvests and the job sites. Taking work everywhere, he never lacked for company and his mother under his constant pestering during their time trapped in the RV together would teach him about how guns worked. The middle child of five his mother was realized when he would sit quietly as watch her work on repairing and servicing the guns of the clan. By the time Duston was ten he had started to repair and build guns right there next to his mother when they were on the road. When they were in camp he spent his time learning about the vehicles they operated, he was incessant so soon when ever vehicles were getting repaired you'd find Duston right next passing tools and asking questions. His siblings took to farm work, gunslinging, and ranching like he did to cars and gunsmithing as his parents proudly watched them all grow up. The other four still with the clan, when Duston declared he wanted to become a smuggler for the clan. By sixteen he was learning to tear rubber and shoot Shiv out windows, he'd taken to riding shotgun in convoys like many of the younger members he was eager to take of the Raffen Shiv. Learning to throw grenades, shoot guns, and lead targets while moving at more than a hundred miles per hour. When he wasn't on the road, working on guns, or tuning up his car, he was singing music around the campfire or helping herd cattle. Duston was fast tracking his career after they had taken Quadra Avenger off some Wraiths he'd set to work trying to get it running. It took him nearly two years, more parts, swearing, and whacking the damn thing with a wrench when it wouldn't listen to him than he ever thought it would. However when it was his baby, his pride and joy "Clydesdale" he called it after the big fucking charger horses Knights to bear down on people with, this beast of a car could matched the name. While a normal Javelina is refined for speed, combat, without losing it's racing pedigree Dusty took the car to it's logical extra adding extra too in the interior for rear seating/storage, increasing truck space, and up armoring it. Of course if you increase the weight you need more power, so adding two turbo chargers to the Avengers much more massive engine. Finally changing out the automatic gearbox for a manual and getting a proper old school wheel in the thing. The Clydesdale is one of those nomad vehicles where people look it and drool, with it's better shocks, fuel economy, and ride comfort it has become the perfect mile muncher for Duston to cruise between home and Night City. Of course, opting to run without weapon systems and targeting computers like others meant that he had to depend on speed and armor to make up the difference. Or whatever weapons he brought with him, as he modified the passenger windows to be able to open up, mostly for being able to pick up fast food but shooting is good too. As such before he set out on first run to night city, his mother presented him with a Militech Cowboy Grenade launcher they had acquired for him to defend himself. Taking his older sister with him on his first trip to Night City they were moving shipment Nomad made firearms for the city's gun dealers. As restored older firearms are fairly popular on the second hand market, especially among those not looking to pay corporate prices for guns they don't have the chrome to handle. The goods made it safely across with no issue, during his first trip he got the bioware upgrades he wanted turning an already well built farm into an impressively muscled and strong young man. His sister spent most of the trip in the Aldercado's camp trading news and gossip while Duston got to work making contacts in the big city. It was during his first trip he met 8ug 8ear, or as he would to know her Bea, a good Netrunner with a penchant for merc work. Though he would meet a few others over the years T-Bug and Jackie Welles a pair of mercs who worked with on separate occasions during the coming years. Panam was another he remembered from the Afterlife and her partner Nash, in reality though he found himself around the middle of the rung for mercs and that was where he liked it. He came into town to make cash and send it home for when times got back they had a stash to rely on. Over the years, he drifted in and out of the city, but found himself working for just one fixer more and more, Rogue. Rogue lied that she had someone who kept a low profile, who did the job the right way and if it went bad got out of the city for a few months. Dusty was someone she could depend on to handle problems and never bring any to her door. Unfortunately the problem with a seasonal Merc is that they aren't always here when you could use'em and the problem when you go in and out, is that when things get really bad and you go back your never quite sure what you're walking into. However, Duston didn't stay away long, making yet another trip in to the city chatting with 8ug 8ear most of the way in only to find out most of his contacts were missing, dead, or gone. So... He got in touch with the Aterlife's bartender Claire sent her over a his Resume, namely a list of completed jobs, NCPD reports, payment records, and more on his previous jobs smuggling, solo work, and driving jobs. This Eddie character, he knew nothing about her or really if they even carried that he was one Rogue's regular Mercs. Most of the people who could vouch for him weren't around anymore and Bea wasn't gonna be able to help she was more on the info gathering side than anything. Especially after her close encounter with the Tyger Claws, he'd need a new Net Runner backing him up at least. Maybe he could look up some of T-bug's friends she was the best he'd met in the business, hell maybe even get answer on what happened to her from someone. Whatever happens next, Duston has what a nomad needs to survives guns and his ride. D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E Duston stands around six foot six inches, well muscled from years of labor combined with his bioware has made him strong as an Ox, with broad shoulders to match he's handsome in the classic way tall, broad, and strong. Along his face a well trimmed auburn that matches the slightly shaggy short hair he keeps bundled up under his broad Stetson hat. Moving down across his chest is usually a plain black T-shirt with a kevlar vest over it. Over his shoulders a heavy set brown duster of leather with the Jodes symbol emblazed across the back for all to see. As his hip sits his revolver and on his back rest the lever action both ready for use at a moments notice. A pair of heavy steel work boots with worn syn leather adorns his feet, if you watch him long enough you'll him produce a cigarette and twirl it between his fingers, he's trying to quit smoking again. A flask hidden in the pocket over his heart holds whiskey in it for when things in the city weight him down to much. Occasionally he'll tap the wood finished handles of his pistol just to occupy himself also like a nervous tic. Regularly running his fingers through his beard he is often slow to start a conversation but sincerely interested and intent once he does speak with someone. P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) Duston has a handful of goals at the moment, one rebuild connections here in the city, two find out what happened to all the folks he used to and give them a send off, find a new Netrunner to run support for him someone whose not gonna sell him out either, make good money to send him to the folks and earn some good will from other mercs and fixers once again.

Went back through and finished things up.

Svetlana Petrovna Shaposhnikova [+]

Svetlana Petrovna Shaposhnikova
Svetlana Petrovna Shaposhnikova

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^{_{"I’m a blank slate in a broken body wearing a dead woman’s face. Past that? I don’t know who I am."}}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Svetlana Petrovna Shaposhnikova _________________________________________________________ Age 29 (b.d. 2048) | ♀ | Sexuality Bisexual _________________________________________________________ Single (Divorced) | Muscle | Former USSR Netrunner, links with the Valentinos P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E [+] ▼ P H Y S I C A L T R A I T S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Build - Toned and chromed ► Ethnicity - Russian ► Hair Colour - White ► Eye Colour - Heterochromic cybernetics, amber and light blue ► Other - Extensive cybernetics, predominantly older models. Prominent scarring on face, neck, and other parts of body. Tattoo on thigh. - C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S [+] ▼ C H A R A C T E R I T E M S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Constitutional Arms Unity (Basic) - a 12-round capacity semiautomatic handgun in .45 caliber. ► Katana (Expensive) - A skillfully crafted katana taken from the body of a dead Tyger Claw. Shaposhnikova’s favored weapon. ► Cyberware (Poor) to (Expensive) - Attempting to list every piece of chrome in Shaposhnikova’s body would be a truly Sisyphean task. It might be easier to list what isn’t artificial. Approximately 60-70% of Shaposhnikova’s body has been replaced with augmetics, and most of them were top of the line, too - thirty years ago. Most of her body has been through at least one, and more likely five or six previous owners before making its way to her. Most of it is incompatible with modern connectors and requires frequent tuneups just to stay functional. As it stands, the cybernetics certainly put her well above the ability of an unaugmented human - but she’d be so much scrap metal against someone packing the equivalent amount in new corp gear. ► Archer Hella EC-D i360 (Basic) - Cheap and reliable. ▼ K N O W N A S S O C I A T E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Josefina Costa - Shaposhnikova’s former wife, affiliated with the Valentinos. Zero combat skill, black market connections. ▼ S K I L L S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► + Combat - Despite no formal training, Shaposhnikova displays excellent combat skills and is skilled at using her extensive augmentation in melee or at range. The primary and probably only reason you might want to hire her. She’s good. ► + Intelligence - Curiously, Shaposhnikova retains her excellent logical thinking abilities and skill at mathematics. ► + Fearlessness - Shaposhnikova seems completely immune to fear. ► - Language - Shaposhnikova is almost completely unable to write, displays significant difficulty in typing, and struggles to remember many words. ► - Charisma - Though not a cyberpsychosis risk, Shaposhnikova’s odd mannerisms and general “weirdness” make her ill suited to lead any sort of interpersonal assignment. -

C H A R A C T E R H I S T O R Y C H A R A C T E R H I S T O R Y This one? Hah. A true tragedy, fitting for the stage plays of Ancient Greece. Born in the city of Novosibirsk in the Union of Sovereign Soviet Republics to midranking employees of SovOil, Svetlana Petrovna Shaposhnikova was easily set up for a relatively comfortable life at first. My sources say she was a bona-fide little tech whiz from day one, and apparently young Svetlana could often be found tinkering with scrap electronics or in the midst of a deep dive into the local net while other children were playing. Raised by loving parents who nurtured her interests from day one, there were, even then, inklings that young Svetlana might have something of the troublemaker in her blood. You see, young Svetlana was not only enamored with technology, but like many of the passionate youth of the world possessed a fierce sense of right and wrong and a determination to enforce it whenever she could. You knew who to call on for righteous vengeance, and vengeance would be swift and uncompromising, it seems. Svetlana picked up more than a few injuries as a result of angering the wrong people or ending up too far in over her head, but never seemed to learn the lesson. Despite all of this, she blossomed into what seems a genuinely skilled Netrunner with the skill and gumption to, according to some, maybe one day break into the big leagues. She found employ first in small time gigs, nothing much I can dig up there, but quickly attracted the attention of SovOil - in part due to her parents’ connections within the corp. Quickly she proved her worth and her skill, and secured generous pay for her hard work. Everything seemed lined up perfectly for the young woman, and she was poised to coast into an easy life. But as before, she could not leave well enough alone. With her newfound skills she redoubled her miniature vigilante crusade, hiding behind skillfully constructed layers of defensive ICE and anonymized signatures. Guy I contacted was genuinely impressed by it at the time. All the same, she was working on borrowed time, and it was not long before she drew the ire of the regional Organitskaya, who placed a price on her head. Left with little in the way of recourse and living every moment with a target painted on her back, our young Svetlana fled the USSR. She had no real destination in mind, distraught over the upending of a comfortable life and like a fish out of water, desperately out of her element. Like detritus from all over the world, she wound up in our absolutely lovely City of Dreams - where, by all accounts, she settled in pretty quickly and established herself as a freelance netrunner of considerable skill. She found a wife, too, Josefina Costa, married her after a year. Everything I found suggests it was nothing less than the perfect picture of a happy marriage. She was a rising star in the netrunning scene and was fielding jobs from the corps in the city, had a nice apartment, a well padded savings account. Even found some inquiries with a local IVF clinic. Wholesome shit. Naturally, it couldn’t last. The hamartia of this little Greek tragedy, dear Svetlana’s justice-dispensing streak crept back up, and seems she spent more than a few of her off hours trawling the net looking for wrongs to right. And boy howdy, she apparently found one. What it was? I can’t figure it out. She didn’t want to say what whenever she did mention it, and she was good at hiding her tracks. ‘Course she can’t answer that question herself, now. Whatever it was, though, she wouldn’t let go. Everyone warned her to drop it. That pursuing it further would only end poorly for her. All the same she kept at it. Persistent, if nothing else. Whatever she was doing it seems to have pissed off some powerful people. Again - girl covered her tracks well, but near I can tell she dodged two prior assassination attempts before they got her. The peripeteia of our little tragedy occurred on June 7th, 2075, at approximately 7:43 PM in her apartment’s living room. Skilled netrunner to the core, they never got her while she was plugged in. A spiked BD though? That’s another story. Should’ve killed her by all accounts, but she survived - just barely. I’ll take Shaposhnikova’s own words here, next. <Snipped quote> Poor thing. She suffered extensive retrograde amnesia. Can barely remember a single thing about Night City. Woke up paralyzed with a stranger standing over her. Can’t even remember her own passwords. Ripper was right - she can’t even write her own name in English or in Russian. Can barely type. Takes a minute to string a simple sentence together and forgets key words anyway. Speaking to her you’d think she was a simpleton among simpletons. She can hold a sword in those antique store find hands of hers just fine, though. Apparently she can still do complex mathematics, too - can even write it just fine. Moment she tries to write actual words? Boom. Nothing. Brain’s a hell of a thing isn’t it? You can probably piece together the rest of what happened next. She and her wife divorced. Shaposhnikova’s big fat savings account was entirely wiped out overnight to pay for whatever chrome she could get - I suppose when your alternative is being bedridden with most of your nerves fried, chrome that’s older than you are is less of a problem isn’t it? ‘Course, the money only partly went to the chrome. The rest of if ensured she was actually able to use it all. Apparently large chunks of her nervous system had to be patched up - and that, at least, seems to be good quality. Guess she was already thinking of future upgrades. Something like 60-70% of her body is cybernetics? She’s pretty much skin stretched over chrome and a few surviving organs at this point so I can’t say it doesn’t make sense. Oh, and all that netrunning skill? Gone. Completely. Seems to have damaged that natural knack for it, too. She’s gone and picked up a sword now. And that’s why I wrote all this up. Despite everything - she’s good with that sword. Real good. Even on chrome old enough they wouldn’t get carded if they were people, she’s good. And good thing too, or she wouldn’t be paying her bills. You might be wondering - that much chrome? That vintage? This chick sounds like if she hasn’t already shown up on a headline with MaxTac she’s due for it any second. That’s the funny thing. Far as I and everyone else in contact with her can tell, she’s perfectly stable - or at least as stable as anyone in her position can be. I have a hypothesis - I don’t need to explain cyberpsychosis to you, hopefully, so I’ll skip over that part of the lecture. She’s talked about clinging to any sense of self she can - she’s already dissociated. Unlike those lovely chums in Maelstrom she didn’t choose to get that extreme, nor did she ever exhibit signs of ever being anything but a genuinely pleasant person beforehand. Now, hear me out - but I think she won’t start seeing us fleshies as beneath her because she mourns what she has already lost, and doesn’t want to lose any more. Heh, something poetic about that. Clinging so hard to any sense of self remaining that it gives her a stronger grip on reality than some people with a quarter of the chrome she’s packing. D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E Svetlana Petrovna Shaposhnikova is a woman of average height, with piercing cybernetic eyes of mismatched color. Catching a glimpse of her on the street might not betray much about the true extent of her augmentation. A long black coat conceals most of her arms, and her hands are usually gloved to conceal any trace of the cybernetics beneath. Baggy pants likewise conceal that her legs, too, are artificial. She is the spitting image of a woman who wishes not to have the extent of her augmentation noticed. By anyone. Unlike most of her body, her leg chrome is actually from this decade, rather than dad’s three times recycled hardware. Some of the only cyberware installed before her ‘accident’, the legs were accompanied by what was at the time a humorous tattoo on her thigh, an in-joke between her and her at the time wife. Now, it serves only as a reminder of what she’s lost. Persuade her to take off the jacket and things change, and drastically. Her arms, legs, most of her organs, and large patches of her torso have been replaced with cybernetics. Svetlana is less “a woman who is part machine” and more “a machine into which a woman has been haphazardly inserted”. Most of this cyberware is self evidently old. Certainly, when it was released, it was top shelf stuff - but that was in the Time of the Red, when Night City denizens were simply happy not to have died in a nuclear firestorm. Now? Outdated is pushing it. Obsolete might be a better term to use. But it still functions - and it was what was affordable for a desperate former netrunner. Her face and body are well adorned with numerous scars and battle injuries, almost all of them recent. Exactly what you might expect of a mid tier solo with a lack of self preservation. Shaposhnikova is certainly pleasant enough in how she carries and presents herself. She’s even genuinely fun, some times. A lovely sense of dark humor, too. However interacting with her is… strange. As though her personality is a painting of the old one, painted purely from memory alone. Certainly there is a resemblance - but it’s fundamentally wrong. She might be described as an empty slate. An incomplete person trying to recover what has been forever lost. P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) Despite everything, Shaposhnikova is young and full of energy and determination. Maybe she doesn’t have much of a bright future laying in store - maybe the best she can hope for is to become a mid-level merc patching together a new life from the old. Maybe the bottom will fall out, and we’ll see her on the headlines being gunned down by MaxTac. Maybe, just maybe, she might find closure and resolve whatever it was that brought about such an unpleasant turn of events for her. And then, maybe, she can finally put to rest a dead woman’s past and become her own person.