Description
5'6" maybe, if you don't mind not using world standard metrics. Short legs, but you knew that already. Arms have a certain neon tan to them. And scars. Numerous, near identical scars. is kind of short, kind of curly.
Dressed in the height of fashion...of guitar Strummer rockers in the 1990s, traveling in between cities and shows, piano fighters looking for that next minor hit.
It means grey t-shirts and torn jeans. Oh, but the guitar case holds a bunch of tools.
And in lieu of a piano, an assault rifle.
The Rest
HP: 35/35
Humanity: 38/50
Initiative: d10+8
Lodgings: You know that arcade, the one with the 50 year old consoles, that's north of Club Metal storm, south of the real dead center of Night City? The one in one of those last millen mini-malls? Okay, the storage warriors' pods all up on the other side of the building. There.
Background
Carbon Plague battled my folks when I was dancing in the womb. No true winners.
What did them in was years later, courtesy of my idiot brother. Drift Nation, one way south of here, some years ago. Home then. The parentals had it good with the transporters what worked between there and here. Let me tinker with the cars, the choombots, the cycles, while the professional repair folks handled the air ships.
Fancy.
Her name. Her being the ace pilot of the biggest aero gang. Her being adored by so many denizens of the drift. Me being the short legged, thanks to the Carbon fight, she tolerated, called cute. Brother didn't like the attention not given to him. Others didn't like it either.
What's that? Why the attention? See, the so called professional gearheads fought amongst themselves to work on her ship. Her gang's ships. Fought as in arguing, maybe punching. Everyone could throw a punch what lived there. Me, like I said, I just worked on the land speeders. Didn't try to work on any sky walkers. Didn't ask. Fancy appreciated that. We'd talk about vroomers from before the Red Time. Vroomers, you know. Choppers. Hogs. Yeah, the two wheelers.
So, you still checked in to this, yeah? Because waiting on your ftang belt to be fixed and won't leave the room without it. Righto. Huh? My brother? Yeah, so, he gets razzed extra by the toolie cookies that Fancy would rather talk to little brother than him. Every time she's in our little nation. It's this way for months. He gets mad. Madder every time. Stupid. Stupid mad enough to where one day he brings a gun to a fistfight. Fires it. Special ammo. Phosphorus based.
Did I mention this was a no Wiley Pete Ammo Nation? You never heard of such, did you, before now? See, that ammo, you know, burns in oxygen. Makes for trauma makers of the scarring variety. Of the limb replacement variety.
So, brother gets smashed up after the gun gets pulled away from him. Parentals lose their status with the aeros. Lose their cred with the Drift as whole. Shoulda raised him better, the whole drift said.
Me? Well, first Fancy said goodbye. Off to new paths through the clouds she says. But will make time to vroom thru Night City, she said.
Second? Oh, the day after that. When a few cookies blamed me for wounds and wounded friends. Cut me up they did. One wound on each of them then means one scar on me...now. Don't tell me you didn't notice them.
Third. The week after the day after the goodbye. One of Fancy's friends stopped by the garageland where I was recovering. Said he knew a guy named Flynn. Had some last century machines what needed working. Said they were in Night City.
I left that particular garageland for good that hour. Got the machines working. They're out front. You noticed them. And...your ftang belt is now repaired. Yes, I can talk tech and tech tech at the same time.
Cost? Call it forty for parts. No labor fee, call it even for your labor of listening to me.
Last edited by zevonian; May 28th, 2021 at 11:54 PM.
Character Name: Pasqual Role: Netrunner Gender Identity: Is 'hacker extraordinaire' a gender identity? Background: Pasqual didn't start out on the street. Hers was a life of the wealthy and powerful, something she's a bit touchy about now that she's among the Bourgies. Servants, luxury homes, and the best of everything, including private security to make sure she were always safe. She attended prestigious private schools and her whole life seemed to be on the fast-track to success.
Then, one day, everything went straight to hell.
Everything she knew and grew up with was destroyed in the blink of an eye, and her family was imprisoned. She managed to escape, but was almost completely unprepared for life on the streets, having lived the good life until then. She scratched out survival in the heart of the Combat Zone, living in wrecked buildings or any other squat she could flop for the night without getting zeroed. She had to do a lot of growing up, and toughening up, quickly and immediately.
Fortunately, she was able to put her training and education to work as a Netrunner, making herself valuable enough to barter for her life. Eventually, she began to pick up the pieces and move on, though not without help. She managed to make a good friend on the street, who showed her the ropes as they watched each other's back. She also made enemies, and not all were from the street - where most either kept to themselves or were just looking for a quick score.
Once her family was no longer around to protect her, Pasqual had to worry about an old bully from her prep school days finding her. Pasqual had posted some...humiliating information and it had never been forgotten or forgiven. Given how short-circuited the gonk was, Pasqual wouldn't be surprised if vengeance came in the form of a bullet...or at least a severe ripping. Then again, Pasqual had a habit of getting into trouble using The Net to play pranks. She'd once been friends with the son of the local police chief, until Pasqual posted some compromising information about corruption within law enforcement. Honestly, Pasqual had simply been trying to open her friend's eyes, 'help' them in a way. Instead, she managed to torque off the cops and earn a very public verbal lashing from the now-former-friend. And, of course, there was Pasqual's competitor, another hacker who wanted to prove that they were the best, but always managed to fail. Maybe not a dangerous individual, specifically, but definitely could be trouble while Pasqual was Netrunning.
Just as soul-crushing was that Pasqual's boyfriend was caught up in the same events that brought her family down. He disappeared at roughly the same time everyone else did, and Pasqual was too busy running for her life to keep track of him. The trail was cold by the time she chilled, but she hasn't abandoned hope of finding him yet. She also hopes to restore her family, and personal, reputation. Someday...she'll take back what the bastards took from her.
For now, though, she works as a freelancer, hacking for anyone who will pay. She likes to work alone, buried in her hideaway bristling with computer screens, all the better to monitor...and look intimidating. Local fixers send her clients, poor saps who can barely start a computer, much less run the Net the way she does. She's got a good network going now, and a few backdoors set up in various corporate warehouses she can loot at will, as long as she's cautious. Once again, she's got competition among other hackers, Deckheads who've taken a disliking to her, somehow. So much for a collaborative community...probably just jealous of her upbringing and skill, neh? Losers.
Handle- Pasqual Real Name - Imani Kamau Role- Netrunner
Stats Int 8 Ref 8 Dex 6 Tech 6 Cool 6 Will 4 Luck 6 Move 6 Body 6 Emp 6
Skills Athletics 2 Basic Tech 6 Brawling 2 Concentration 2 Conceal/Reveal Object 6 Conversation 2 Cryptography 6 Cybertech 6 Education 6 Electronics and Security Tech 6 Evasion 6 First Aid 2 Handgun 6 Human Perception 2 Language (Street Slang) 2 Library Search 6 Local Expert 2 Perception 2 Persuasion 2 Stealth 6
Inventory
Funds: 50 eb
-- Armor & Clothing
Kevlar (SP 7, AP 0)
Leisurewear hat, mirrorshades, jacket, top, bottoms, footwear
Generic Chic jewelry
-- Weapons & Ammo
Heavy Pistol - 3d6 Handgun (ROF: 2, Conceal)
Basic Ammo - 40 rounds
Smoke Grenade
Teargas Grenade
Neural Link (7 HL)
Interface Plugs (7 HL)
Biomonitor
Light Tattoo x 2
Skinwatch
EMP Threading
Description
Pasqual is fairly tall (about 5'10") with strong, sharp African features and dark skin. She wears a short mohawk that forms a stripe down her skull and clothing designed to be comfortable and flexible. She cares little for fashion trends, tending toward the practical, and keeps a serious, professional demeanor. She's seen too many yahoos get blasted into a grease spot because they were screwing around, and has been through too much in her life to see it as a joke.
The Rest
HP: 35/35
Humanity: 46/60
Initiative: d10+8
Lodgings: Burned-out shell of a building in the Combat Zone where a bunch of us squat. Plenty of exits and hidey-holes nearby for when the boosters come ripping through.
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Can't think of anything clever, just got tired of updating all my active characters! ♥
Last edited by The Rat Queen; Oct 13th, 2022 at 04:27 PM.