[OOC] 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝙰𝚠𝚊𝚢

[BingTheWing]

@Sanity43217 As a freelancer, Set is a relatively recent addition to the crew and probably doesn't expect to stick around for much longer.

[Smike]

Did we have a Discord to discuss things?
I was just wondering what everyone had planned for shared background as part of the crew.
With Steven Bates being one of the older members, I was flirting with the idea that he helped found the crew for a job a while back. I’m not committed to the idea of anyone had an alternative.

@Sanity43217

I wouldn't be opposed to a discord group or something, it's easy to coordinate stuff like that there (in my experience.) In any case I don't mind Steve being the one to have started it, I figure Zen's joined through 3D or was put pushed in the group's direction by her other fixer

[BigPapaBelial]

I'm having a hard time putting together a reason for my guy to join the crew.

I really want to pursue the idea of a Corpo ripper doc, but I don't know how to edge him in beyond being someone the crew goes too for work done and to sell mods and chrome they've scrounged up.

Anyone give a guy an in here?

EDIT

Well okay I looked through CSes already posted and did some work arounds. I'm hitting save here in a moment. Let me know if I need to change anything more. Because I don't know what else to add at this point.

[DeadDrop]

Did we have a Discord to discuss things?
I was just wondering what everyone had planned for shared background as part of the crew.
With Steven Bates being one of the older members, I was flirting with the idea that he helped found the crew for a job a while back. I’m not committed to the idea of anyone had an alternative.

@Sanity43217

There won't be a discord, unfortunately. Otherwise, OOC chat here may die out.

[DeadDrop]

@Nytem4re Approved, move him over.

@BigPapaBelial approved.

[Sanity43217]

Steven prefers having at least two doctors on the team because his Trauma Team coverage and health insurance are both expired.

[BigPapaBelial]

@DeadDrop

Alright thank you kindly Dead

[Smike]

Reposting this here cuz I think my edits got lost in the shuffle, removed some of the cyberware and the references to cyberpsychosis. Lemme know if I gotta make any other changes

One Scary Svoluch

_{Zhenya "Zen" Makarova
"The Beast From the East, that's me! Night City's number one Former Soviet Solo."
◄ 48 ▎ FEMALE ▎ 6'8" ►}

_{P R O F I L E
"I'm like a puppy really, a big, strong Rottweiler puppy that loves you until you bother it. Then it rips your face open. Till then, all love."}

Zhenya is a SINless, heavily augmented Solo with no shortage of experience, a thirty-year veteran of corporate conflicts and gang wars across the globe. Like most Solos, she's not quite right in the head after having spilled more blood than could be healthy for her psyche. Over her seven-odd years in Night City she's built a reputation of dependability: you can depend on her to go in guns blazing and leave a lot of bodies behind. She's unsuited for stealth or espionage and is thus relegated to low-tier hits, clearing out rival gangs from street corners or beating the shit out of an informant to send a message.

Physically she sticks out from the crowd, standing far above the vast majority of people without some sort of leg extension bodymod. While her height is somewhat impractical in day-to-day life it does wonders when she's getting paid to shake someone down. Physically she's in excellent shape, looking younger than her near fifty years thanks to some choice surgery before she moved to the Free States. While she's most definitely buff her build hides the augmented strength she can bring to bear. Zen dresses practically, eschewing the flashy neon getups favored by some Solos in favor of simple tank tops and cheap cargo pants.

While not as outright nuts as some of the people living in Night City Zen is most definitely 'off'. All the times she's been shot, stabbed, hit by cars or thrown from buildings has given her a very black sense of humor. She likes to claim that the only reason she's not in Hell is that the devil won't take her. She's long past the point of killing for anything other than money and the sense of power it gives, unbothered by the idea of hurting other people if it gets her what she wants.

However, she's not interested in performing random massacres. What she craves is the adrenaline rush from a proper shootout, the sense of danger when bullets start flying in her direction. Merc work is her outlet for this need to butcher and break people, leaving her in a rather friendly (if overly enthusiastic) state all other times. Zhenya speaks quickly and acts quicker, invading people's personal space as she drags them into rapid-fire chatter about anything and everything.

She's also perpetually broke. Riding the poverty line is far from uncommon in Night City of course but for a Solo with as much experience as she has Zen is embarrassingly low on creds. Her Fixer is so low on the totem pole that he can only offer her jobs that pay a couple thousand eddies a pop and she's in debt to a ripper doc for fixing up her dog after it caught some stray lead. Without a stable corpo paycheck and lacking the the resources she had in Eastern Europe she's forced to live off of cheap takeout while sleeping in her car.

Zhenya doesn't mind. She's free to do what she does best without having to put up with all the boring rank-and-file bullshit Life's a breeze really, except for the fact that she's in a foreign country where she has no friends or family. And that she's a (barely) functional addict with expensive habits.
Putting all of that aside, she's loving life.

Her issue with Night City is that while she's a pretty big fish she's swimming around a huge pond. The screamsheets are full of boostergang shootouts and high-tech hitjobs, so much blood and gore that she kind of fades into the background. Being a giant brawler might have been a good way to get famous back in Yekaterinburg but here she's got a competitor on each block.

Dying isn't what scares Zhenya, everyone gets flatlined sooner or later. What disturbs her is being forgotten after she goes. As loathe as she is to admit it being a lethal cyberjock isn't enough to make people remember her, not without doing something truly impressive. She's not sure what her mark will be, only that it needs to be big.

The other thing Zen fears is being hacked. The idea of losing control of her chrome upsets her to the point that any piece of cyberware with a connection to the Net is automatically turned down. Her gear can still be accessed by drilling into a hardpoint but if some netrunning asshole incapacitates her to the point that they can get under her skin she’s screwed either way.

She takes life as it comes and always with a dogged optimism born out of bravado. Whatever happens, whatever's thrown her way, she'll take care of it just like she did everything else.

_{D A Y S - G O N E
"My oh so very tragic past and triumphant rise to glory."}

"Ancient History, really"

Zhenya Makarova was born in Yekaterinburg, Russia on October 14, 2029, a scant four years after the end of the Fourth Corporate War. Her family was originally loyal to the Soviet Union but broke away in the face of it's increasing corporate control, both of her parents and her elder brother Red Army operatives before signing on with SovOil.

The family was solidly middle-class, living in a series of decent apartments across Russia and the other constituent republics and getting food that was adequate in both quantity and quality. Zhenya received a decent education and had the means to make something of herself, perhaps a middle manager for SovOil or crossing the border to become an accountant for Kang Tao. Hell, with her height she could have played basketball

However, she never took to the idea of a desk job. Zhenya grew up fighting with other children and running from local law enforcement when she and her friends were caught scrawling tags over public property. While not quite antisocial she was uninterested in playing it safe. It was obvious that she was an adrenaline junkie, fueled by excitement more than anything else.

By the time she was in her mid-teens she had a number of infractions on her record, mostly disorderly conduct for brawling and a couple cases of joyriding.

Had it not been for her parents track records of service to SovOil Zhenya would simply another been another gopnik, hanging out on street corners while trying to prove herself as the baddest motherfucker around. Instead she was signed up to serve like the rest of her family, given basic security training before being given a gun and told to defend corporate interests from the same riffraff she had been hanging out with.

While she was hardly thrilled at the prospect of wearing a uniform or taking orders the power that SovOil gave her was intoxicating. She had a license to kick ass, not just allowed but expected to bust the head of anyone who even looked at company property funny. Most of her paycheck was spent on down payments for black-market cyberwear and fueling her addiction to syn-coke with the occasional hospital visit for injuries sustained in back alley brawls. There was a learning curve for the first couple of years, a few citations for excessive force and reckless endangerment, but eventually some pencil pusher managing the personnel roster had a brilliant idea:

Why risk collateral damage and waste a perfectly good goon when she could be reassigned to the middle of nowhere?

With the USSR's old enemy America having splintered into NUSA and the rise of corporate power over the Politiboro most of the conflict in Russia was internal. Besides the usual gangland warfare the various nations of Neo-Sov often had border clashes, to say nothing of the more organized crews making a living off of attacking SovOil storage depots. Zhenya was sent to Siberia to deal with those vultures, the wide open wasteland the perfect sort of environment for someone like her.

That was her life for the next three decades. Trying to stay warm inside desolate SovOil outposts, serving as gunner on AV patrols to clear out bandit camps and laying waste to anything she was told to. In between the months on the job were the weeks-long stretches of downtime, most of which was spent partying or running her own rackets on the side. SovOil didn't care if its guards were selling confiscated contraband or shaking down villages for protection money, as long as they did their jobs.

By her forties Zen had straightened out, more or less. She had figured out how to toe the line when required but found herself growing bored. The hard-partying lifestyle fueled by synth had been replaced by painkillers and sedatives done in private, the running gun battles with would-be thieves in the shadow of the Urals all blurring into one. Siberia was growing old, a change was needed.

"Pretty Recent Stuff"

The opportunity came when her EV was shot down by some booster with a stolen rocket launcher. The low power of the degraded warhead hadn't been enough to blow the vehicle apart and Zen survived the crash thanks to the aggressive amount of cyberware she had installed. With the rest of the crew dead she simply trekked back to base, grabbed her stuff and slipped free.

Her father had passed a decade ago and she hadn't spoken to her mother or brother in years. Zen found it easy to leave her old life behind, crossing the border into Poland and then onto Germany. The no longer United States was chosen as her final destination purely on basis of distance. She wanted to get as far away as possible as quickly as possible and with the help of smugglers she managed to do just that.

Eurodollars were not officially exchanged in the Neo Soviet Union and much of what Zen had earned from her side hustles was spent on making it to NUSA. She needed a job, and what with having spent her whole life as a professional gunslinger, had little in the way of marketable skills. But she had arrived in the early stages of the Unification Wars, NUSA moving to finally bring the Free States back under its thumb. Militech, the real power behind NUS of A, needed more bodies and was willing to bring on a foreigner who wanted to be thrown into the meat grinder.

Zhenya fought at Ridgecrest in what would be the bloodiest battle of the Unification War before marching north for the coming assault on Night City (noting the irony of her home country sending support to the soon-to-be-besieged city), only to be sorely disappointed when the arrival of an Arasaka supercarrier forced the Militech/NUSA army to retreat.

After the Arvin Accords Zhenya was unceremoniously booted from Militech, her maverick attitude and no longer tolerated without a conflict to let her get killed in.

The remainder of her Sov cash was long gone and her salary from Militech had been blown on drugs and picking up new gear. Zen was dead broke with no friends or family to rely on, lacking even a superior officer willing to vouch for her. What she did have was an arsenal of heavy weaponry, some military-grade chrome and the directions to a town she had intended on painting red anyway.

"Here and now"

Night City didn't judge. It took her in like it did every other lunatic merc, a neon playground for her to ply her trade. With her connections far and few between Zen was at the bottom of the pile, an overqualified hired gun for those unbothered by things getting loud. Any decent-paying job she found required more discretion than she was capable or cared to give and there were always expenses. Food, meds to patch herself up with after jobs, new cyberware, various sedatives to numb the aches and pains picked up after a life of combat, so many things to buy and not enough eddies to buy them with.

But Zhenya didn't mind being homeless. She had a car to sleep in and a dog to hang out with, which was about as much as she needed. More importantly, she was free. No bosses yelling orders, no parents to try and impress with her service, she worked when she wanted for who she wanted.

She could be whoever she wanted, even if the person she wanted to be was just a more infamous version of who she already was. She found people willing to work with her, a crew with varied skillsets to complement her expertise in destruction, and with them came better paying gigs.

_{M E M O R I E S}

A Useful Idiot Fixer

Jake Tao- A low-tier fixer, perfect for a low-tier solo. Johnny likes to spin himself as being bigger than he is and Zen nods politely despite knowing full well he's not going to find her a job different than the usual "burn rival stash spot here, shoot a too-curious bennie there." He's useful not because he offers good gigs, he's useful because he offers lots of them. It's the one advantage of working with bottom-of-the-bin clients, plenty of poor people want other poor people dead.

A Useful Competent Fixer

3D- An actually competent fixer, even if he has poor taste. Zen likes to work for 3D because he offers her gigs that actually paid well...or at least he did before he was ran out of his mansion. She tries to throw him a bone now and again in the aftermath of the bordello raid but there's only such much she can do when she's already skipping meals to afford more ammo. He's a a good buddy and a great driver but a very bad source for fashion advice.

A Furry Son

Uncle Sam- Zen's pet, personal therapist, diary and pillow. He's named after the patron saint of her adopted country and he's just the bestest boy in the whole world, yes he is! A stray blast of buckshot took out an eye and a leg but Zen managed to rush him over to a ripperdoc in time to save his life.

_{G E A R & C Y B E R N E T I C S
"All my worldly possessions. It's uh, it's not much."}

Weapons

Mark. 31 Heavy Machinegun- Eighty-two pounds of high-powered weaponry, firing .50 BMG from a backpack-mounted feed system. The Mk. 31 is unwieldy even for those all borg'ed up but its ability to chew through cover, light vehicles and most definitely people make it worth keeping around. Fires a variety of rounds, all of which will absolutely ruin someone's day.

Militech Crusher- The Crusher's small size makes it convenient for use indoors while its eight-gauge payload and twelve-round magazine make it deadly. It's Zhenya's go-to when the situation warrants some semblance of subtlety.

RT-46 Burya- Zhenya's sidearm from her SovOil days and one of the few tech-weapons she cares for. Low-capacity and most certainly not low profile but makes up for these deficits with its sheer power. If it doesn't drop dead after getting shot by a railgun Zen probably shouldn't have shot at it in the first place.

"Rezat" Officer's Sword- Her father's official parade sidearm from his days as an officer in the greatly diminished Red Army, it was given a very unofficial nickname when she inherited it. The titanium blade is sharp, durable, and lightweight while the decorative grip contains pressure sensitive circuitry. A squeeze of her hand sends a current of around eight thousand volts up the blade.

Even if she can't pierce their skin that much juice can inhibit a chromed up opponent just fine.

Cyberware

Nervous System

Kerenzikov- Gives a boost to Zen's reflexes for a brief moment, allowing her to dive out of the way of that grenade or intercept that punch at the last minute.

Sensory

DefnDum Protection System- Zen regularly fires off huge guns inside enclosed spaces, a recipe for disaster if proper precautions aren't taken. The DDPS is wired to Zen's eyes and ears, automatically dampening extremes in decibels and lumens to manageable levels.

Integumentary

Subdermal Amor- SovOil equips its security forces in the Siberian wastes with beneath-the-skin armor plate as an added defense against small arms fire.

Grounding Plating- Bounce Back and MaxDoc can help with bleeding, burns and blunt force trauma but electricity will still happily cripple a chromed-up killer. The dispersal systems through Zhenya's body ensure that any nasty electromagnetism she encounters will simply be brushed off.

Circulatory

Syn-Lungs- Being a muscular giant with metal bones will only get you so far. Zen has to lug around a lot of heavy shit at speed and doing so requires more air than a normal fleshy set of lungs can provide.

Frontal Cortex

Babble-On Translator: Zhenya's English is rudimentary, consisting of enough short phrases and street slang to get by but any conversation more complex than that is beyond her. The Babble-On lets her cheat by automatically filtering words in English into her native Russian and vice versa.

The standard Babble came with the option of Cool, Polite Female and Cool, Polite Male, making Zen sound entirely different than she does when using her actual speaking voice.

Skeleton

Titanium Skeleton- A reinforced skeletal structure to let Zhenya carry extreme weight and protect her knuckles in a fight.

Ocular

Röntgeneyes- A set of ocular implants from the International Electric Corporation. Despite the name they're not actually powered by X-rays but by sonar, the cyberware allowing Zen to see people through walls and track their movement using radio waves. The blurry shapes are sharpened into proper outlines by microcameras so that she knows what's on the other side of the wall. Useful when combined with high caliber weaponry that can shoot through cover.

Immune System

Pain Editor- A good quality Pain Editor numbs the sensation of injury, helping to manage shock and to keep the recipient in the fight, provided the wound isn't lethal of course. Zhenya got hers for cheap from a third-hand dealer which means that it totally blocks out the pain.

This is an extremely dangerous effect because it means that Zen runs the risk of bleeding to death if she's not careful. She won't be able to feel when her outer gear and subdermal armor are breached so she has to constantly check herself to know if she's on death's door or not. As with some natural cases of Congenital Analgesia the effect can be somewhat lessened by being treated with naloxone but this is an expensive and temporary fix.

Miscellaneous

Agent- Zhenya's cell phone, computer, personal assistant and main source of entertainment outside of murder, all in one convenient package.
Galena GA32t- A used model of an already cheap sports car, given to Zen as payment for a gig. Since she has no permanent home it pulls double duty as her bedroom and transportation.
Heavy Armorjack- In the form of an armorweave trench coat with metal plates inserted at strategic points and a laminate armor vest underneath. It won't help much if she gets shot in the legs or the head but its far better than nothing.
Everything Else- Spare ammo, spare magazines, the few hundred eddies Zhenya has left, changes of clothes, a couple blankets and the various drugs she takes. Generally strewn about the floor and trunk of her car.

[BingTheWing]

@BigPapaBelial Hey this is a bit minor, but I'm not sure if Jorick would know for sure if Set worked for Arasaka. Like most netrunners, Set uses a lot of aliases on the net and takes care to hide his true background. Most observant people would figure out that he used to be a Corpo, but nothing more.

[BigPapaBelial]

@BingTheWing

You're probably right I can edit that sure. Corpo would know Corpo though. And maybe Arasaka as well Arasaka has their whole internal culture thing being predominately Japanese bushido-esque. But yeah I can edit it if you like.

[WardenCelestine]

⛨ 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 - 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗨𝗠𝗔 𝗧𝗘𝗔𝗠 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗟 ⛨

_{Maya Erathell
◄ 33 ▎ FEMALE ▎ 5'11 ►}

_{P R O F I L E}

Everyone says that first impressions are crucial when beginning a relationship with anyone. So those who meet Maya for the first time will see her as a calm, cool, collected, and professional individual who takes what she does very seriously. Some may even see her as a drone, showing very little emotion besides what is appropriate in the current situation. While all of this is accurate, her true personality will show after trust is earned by getting to know the individual, fighting alongside them, and learning their intentions. Those that have had the opportunity to earn not only her trust but also friendship, will find that Maya is a sharp and witty individual who cares deeply for those who work alongside her, and can even have a sharp sense of humor along with a warm, cheerful personality during rare occasions.

Maintaining a strict military fitness schedule, Maya keeps herself in top physical condition, though still has the slim female form that other female soldiers retain. When out of her armor, the first thing one would notice would be the color of her eyes, a very vibrant azure blue. She keeps her black hair short, and slightly combed. Due to her genetics, she is lucky enough to look a bit younger than her actual age, which has led to accounts of confusion in the past. The only tattoo that she has is from the early days of being part of Trauma team, upon her back.

_{D A Y S - G O N E}

"The days of the past may be gone but the memories still remain."

Maya was born to a wealthy Corpo family within the city center on [October 13th, 2044] during the early morning hours. Both of her parents were delighted to have their first child, and quickly set to work, ensuring she would have the best life possible. Her education, her work place, and what she was exposed to was quickly set up for her, allowing little to no room for any venturing off into a merciless city that was more likely to leave her dead in some alley then show her a shred of dignity. This kind of protection carried on, and eventually lead into pampering, where she received only the very best that money could buy in all areas.

The years passed by, and Maya would only see short glimpses of what it was like outside of her finely tuned reality. Though at the age of five, her more than idealistic view of life received a small sample of what it was like for those less fortunate. While returning from a school session with her personal teacher Nikolai, an explosion rocked the city center, causing panic and chaos not only within the tower she had once lived in, but also the streets below. Nikolai quickly avoided the falling debris and with a little bit of intuition, had decided to avoid the flaming carnage of what was once her her home. Instead, he attempted to calm the young Maya down, taking her to a small apartment within Japan Town, located in the Westbrook District.

Once arriving, Nikolai carefully affirmed that they had not been followed, then ushered the young girl inside of the compartment complex and eventually up to his personal living quarters. As soon as they had bothered entered, Nikolai locked the door behind him and moved into the living room, turning on the television to the local Night City news station. What showed upon it was Maya's home, or the whole towering building, now engulfed in flames. The reporter spoke about a terrorist attack but due to information that had been passed onto him from Maya's parents, said otherwise. Another Corporation, who they expected to be Arasaka, had been showing anonymous aggression towards their family with threats of retaliation for what they assumed was business deals with Biotechnica or other reasons Maya has yet to come to understand.

This was the first, but not the last time that Maya was faced with the death of loved ones. It dawned upon her that she now had nowhere to go, and no home. She was now at the mercy of Nikolai, and whatever he chose to do with her. Having been family friends with the Erathell's though, Nikolai showed something rare for those who call the city home, kindness and compassion. Nikolai quickly adopted Maya, and continued to do his best to teach Maya everything she would need to know about holding a Corpo position, as well as what life was actually like in the city, on top of doing his best to be a father.

Nikolai had checked Maya's family will, which left everything they had to her. Upon trying to claim these funds and physical items, they were informed that due to legal reasons, all but ten percent of the funds were available. Nikolai decided to hold these funds for himself until Maya was old enough, then pass over the owed money to her.

More years passed by, while Maya tried to step way from her Golden Child mentality, and more into the life of any other day citizen. She was told by her father Nikolai that she would have to prove her worth out there in the real world, and that no one would be there to watch her back once she was alone. This realization had come to her shortly after her parents died, but hearing it from Nikolai had caused something in her mind to change. On the off chance she would be assaulted, she began taking self defense classes for not only hand to hand but also firearms and a surprisingly young age. From this, a new interest began to form, one where she could not only protect herself, but others that needed it.

Maya's chance to try her newly found skills came around the age of 16 while walking home from picking up baking supplies for the banana bread she was going to attempt to make. Near a turn she was supposed to take, she noticed what appeared to be a gang member attacking an older homeless man for the little money he had on him. Without thinking, Maya ran up behind the gang member and kicked out his lower leg from the knee, then brought her right fist down upon the right side of the mans face with one swift movement. It was enough to knock the man out for a moment, allowing the homeless man to run away. Though when she turned around, happy that she had helped someone, another one of the gang members had shown up, ready to teach her a lesson.

When she arrived home that evening, she did so with a broken nose and a black eye, which was lucky for her due to the fact that the gang member had been armed with more than a knife. As would be expected, Nikolai was quite upset with her, but also proud of her in away, though had decided to ground her for her stupid actions that could have easily gotten her killed.

Two years later, Maya came to a crossroad in her life where she was presented with a choice. Nikolai knew she wanted to follow in her parents footsteps, but also knew that she wanted to help others. One road lead to the Corpo lifestyle which ended up with her parents death, and the other a career in the medical field. These were the choices presented to Maya from Nikolai, along with pro's and con's of each. Both would be very difficult, both rewarding in their own way. Maya decided that she would think about her carrier path over the next few days then make a choice when her mind was more clear.

Exhausted from the conversation, she took a cold shower and went to bed, putting much thought into what her future would hold. The night would turn to morning, and the morning into the afternoon when she awoke. Walking out into the living room, she found a data-pad. Upon it, was a message that informed her that Nikolai had to leave Night City to head back to his own home, to care for his own parents, and live his own life now that she had chosen her own path, and could take care of herself. The bottom of the message informed her that he loved her dearly and was proud to call her his daughter while he had the chance. Further below, it explained that everything inside of the apartment, including the apartment itself was now her own and that a large amount of money that was from her parents will had been moved into her account. For three days after, she felt the pain she had felt so many years ago when her real parents died, and found herself alone, once more, within the world.

After three days, she found herself again, and had decided to go with her dream of being a medic, and quickly enrolled for Trauma Team International who had her in an academy within 24 hours. From here, she excelled at her academics and proved that she not only had the talent to be a medic, but also had a prowess for combat. She had finely landed her dream position, and was putting her heart, soul, and mind into it at every chance she could. After three years of studying and working alongside actual members of Trauma Team, she was allowed to partake in her first emergency call as a fully fledged member of T.T.I. putting everything she had learned to use and becoming a valued member of the team she was part of.

During those ten years, a representative from Max-Tac had approached her, offering her to become something more, a combat medic for Max-Tac. Maya had not only heard of Max-Tac, but had seen them in action, how they worked, and most importantly how they gave little to no care for collateral damage. Maya thanked the man for the offer and left him with a simple, I will think about it and get back to you, though she never did. This left her employers confused but also pleased that she had not left them, the feeling was mutual for her squamates.

Though like the wayward wind, people find themselves moving on and setting a new path for themselves. This was the same for Maya after an incident that resulted with the death of many high profile card holders as well as civilians. The line between Trauma Team and Max-Tac was beginning to blur as time went on. After ten years, she found herself resigning from her position within Trauma Team. Thankfully due to her work with TTI, she left with a nice pension which helped her acquire most of the equipment she now owns, and fully paid off her apartment.

These days, Maya finds herself helping on the streets where she can, doing side jobs here and there, and assisting within the Night City Medical Center. Her account lies almost barren with few funds to keep her floating, even with all the work she does. Within her mind, she wishes to not only do more but to become more than what she currently is, to make a positive impact upon the city, and to find who killed her parents.

_{M E M O R I E S}

Nikolai

"My adopted father, he raised and taught me as if I was one of his own. Then dropped me like a brick, moving on to take care of his real family when I was old enough to take care of myself. I do owe him a great debt that I can never repay though. Though I am very thankful for everything he has done for me, and selflessly given. Perhaps someday I will see him again, perhaps not, but only time will tell.

First Lieutenant Mattson

"Mattson was my Trauma Team International instructor, and squad leader for the ten years I was part of TTI. He helped me improve my medical and combat skills to what they are today, along with teaching me about discipline. Eventually, we grew to become close friends, but nothing more than that."

Troy Links

[ENTRY_1]

"Troy was a former employee at Trauma Team international, something we both have in common. Apparently he likes to keep to himself most of the time, tinkering with new things and equipment. More information is needed before an accurate assessment can be formed."

Alistair Liu

[ENTRY_1]

"Apparently Alistair had themselves a corpo position, living the high life while the rest of the city did their best below, sounds familiar. He seems a bit impulsive, self-centered, and egotistical, perhaps I am misreading him, but I doubt it. More information is needed before an accurate assessment can be formed."

Steven Bates

[ENTRY_1]

"This individual stands out among the rest in my honest opinion, and the fact that he is Ex-Max-Tac makes me cautiously Paranoid of him. There is an old rumor that says most if not all Max-Tax are made up from people who were once Cyberpsychos, and after seeing how they shoot anything that moves, would not surprise me in the slightest. He seems like a good man though, but that could be deception. More information is needed before an accurate assessment can be formed, or perhaps he will kill us all before I get the chance."

Jorick Godricksson

[ENTRY_1]

"I always welcome more medical professionals among a squad, and this mans shared history is quite impressive. Here is to hoping we can learn something from each other down the line if everything goes well. Though trust is earned, and at the moment, more information is needed before an accurate assessment can be formed."

Petre Novak

[ENTRY_1]

"Petre is a reserved individual from what I can gather, though some small talk happens here and there. I tend to keep to myself as well at most times. Due to all of this, much more information is needed before an accurate assessment can be formed."

_{G E A R & C Y B E R N E T I C S}

Weapons

M-179 Achilles

Malorian Overture

Militech M251s Ajax

Cyberwear

Mantis Blades [Left Arm Only]

"Arm blades designed with lethality and concealment in mind. As effective as they are flashy."

The blade is superheated to allow for thermal damage as well as cauterization of injuries.

Optical Camouflage

"But..! If you spend a lotta time in the Badlands, it's worth investing in cloaking gear. Holoskin, active camo - what have you."

Allows for almost complete invisibility for a short period of time.

Kiroshi Optics MK.5

"This advanced Kiroshi optical system is designed for the most demanding users. It incorporates the latest breakthroughs in neural-link technology, unprecedented support of optic function and the most powerful scanning algorithms on the market."

Allows for scanning of personnel showing NCPD information on the individual as well as enhanced vision. (Night vision, thermal vision, and able to enhance viewing distance.)

Dynalar Sandevistan [Custom]

"Thanks to trademarked synaptic transmitters, this Sandevistan from Dynalar ensures even more comfort and control in combat situations as well as increased neuromuscular tension."

Increases reflexes both on and off the field of battle as well as increased cyberwear functionality.

Trauma Team Network

An implant that allows the user to search through Trauma Teams extensive database, locating very detailed information on injuries and how to most effectively treat them.

Miscellaneous Belongings

Brennan Apollo (Raptor)

A customized version of a Brennan Apollo Off-Road, more resembling a military motorcycle than anything else. Has a rear seat so someone else can join her if the need arises. The compartments are smaller but are reinforced for security reasons.

Viper Drone

Made up from parts of both Militech and Zetatech drones, this small custom made drone can easily fit inside of a backpack or case for discrete transportation. The drone mostly fills a scout role but can be modified for combat or medical situations. Currently, it has no way to be charged, and requires either a Militech or Zetatech power core, thus leaving it dormant.

Trauma Team Medical Equipment

Maya has kept all of her Trauma Team Medical Equipment, and now carries it with her in a secure military grade backpack in case of an emergency.

Personal Apartment

A small but very well taken care of apartment in Japan Town, located in the Westbrook District. This is where she keeps all of her worldly possessions.

Backpack and outfit

Maya wears a military backpack upon her back, filled with Trauma Team Medical Equipment, a few snacks, small tools used for fixing up weapons and armor, and a couple other useful items.

Her outfit is mostly created from repurposed Trauma Team armor pieces attached to a comfortable flight suit, all recolored to be either black or a dark grey. Due to parts of her armor being made from these pieces, Maya can attach spare magazines, grenades, and other tactical gear of her choice to said outfit with ease.

Acoustic Guitar

An authentic Acoustic Guitar Maya bought around the age of 18 as a side hobby, which eventually lead to her learning how to sing as well.

[DeadDrop]

@Andromedai Approved, move it over.

[Smike]

@DeadDrop I apologize for the nagging but was the reposted sheet fine or are there still changes I need to make?

[Theyra]

Going to have to bow out of this one. I do not have the energy to make a cs, so good luck with the rp.

[DeadDrop]

@Smike I'll get to yours tonight.

Anyone i missed aswell please speak up

[Hyyde322]

Sorry guys, I'm going to have to back out, I have completely lost the plot for my character

[DeadDrop]

@Smike Approved.

Saturday morning, hopefully I'll have the IC up for the RP.

[Smike]

Thanks, looking forward to it!

[DeadDrop]

@Creative Chaos@Smike@Andromedai@Nytem4re@BigPapaBelial@Sanity43217@BingTheWing

IC up, excited to see how this plays out :).

[Smike]

have to finish some stuff up this weekend but should be posting soon