[Other] Cyberpunk: Neon Dreamers

[Ermine]

I think Ritz is done? Like I said, I can easily make her a fixer, too. Just have to change her up a tiny bit. Nbd. I can add or change as necessary if there's anything missing or wrong.

[Drinkslotsa]

I'm not worried about roles, I would prefer you guys play the characters you want without worrying about filling holes in the party.
Artemis is looking good, if Cazual, Ritz and Preacher could have their personalities fleshed out just a touch more it would be appreciated, I really like to get a good picture of the characters so it gives me more to work with for NPC interactions.

Loving the friends and enemies additions, they're a great foundation for dwellers in the Graveyard. If you want to name some people from your pasts that still live in NC, it only gives me more to work with!

[Drinkslotsa]

I should also mention you don't have to be from NC, you could already be a nomad, or you could have travelled to Graveyard because a dream referred you there

[Ermine]

Expanded it, and her role in the crackdown.

[ratchett]

Working on a deeper personality profile for Preacher!

[Classic Gamer]

Ok, updated Caz’s personality as well as added a few “friends” to the list. I figured it was a cop out not to have at least a few strings attached.

[ratchett]

Preacher is updated with more on personality and another friend/enemy entry

[Drinkslotsa]

Thank you very much guys, nice work. Still keeping subs open, probably until October 15th to see if there is anymore interest, I think I'll change it from 4 to 6 players if we can rustle up the interest

[Ermine]

Hopefully we do~

[MrD]

NOMAD Name: NOMAD Role: Nomad Ethnicity:Western European Personality: Anti-Hero. (Rebellious, antisocial, and violent). As his mother used to say "Unhinged is as unhinged does". To live out on the roads, the miles and miles of roads, miles and miles of nothingness, amongst the swirling winds and beneath the chemical skies you have to possess a certain something... a, "je ne sais quoi". For some that's cunning, for some that's speed, for some that's fear, and for some that's greed. But for one, one special one, that something was madness, raging, violent madness. If you're not pack you're prey.... Appearance: Leather, Tattoos, Knifes, Guns, Leather, Tattoos.... Cars....Bikes.... Leather.... Scars and guns and leather... Fire!!! Backstory: NOMAD had a name once, he was sure... He was certain he remembered his mother leaning over his cot as they roared along the open road, the wind buffeted, dust parched road.... He was sure he remembered her yelling above the roar of the engines, the bark of the exhaust, the squeal of the tires, yelling, and yelling, and yelling his name - over and over and over and over.... He was sure..... just.... he couldn't quite remember.... or maybe he'd dreamt it? ---- "You want something getting somewhere fast. No questions asked. Nomad's yer boy. Best runner on the roads and then some!" Pa flicked a thumb at the tattooed giant poking around the engine bay of a heavily modded Quadra Type-66 Nomad's very own "Javelina"... The suit took in the scene a finger twitching in thought on the handle of the case he carried. "Can he be trusted?" Pa laughed, see-sawing his hands from side to side "Trust - Price, Price -Trust - It's all relative ain't it. The question is how much trust you want'in to buy?" The suit adjusted his shades - "A hundred now plus another fifty when the package is delivered." The smile slid from Pa's lips "A hundred and fifty creds is not going to buy you a whole lot of trust." "Thousand." the suit said letting the word sink in "A hundred thousand now plus another fifty thousand when the package is delivered" Pa's mouth went dry, his eyes flicked a glance at the case and back to the suit. A hundred and fifty thousand creds jeez this guy's either crazy or that's some heavy sh*t he's toting A hundred and fifty thousand was more money than any nomad pack could expect to earn in a standard year or probably more like two standard years. "Well I think we've got a deal mister" the smile returned as he stepped forward hand held out to seal the transaction. "Where's it going?" The suit gripped his hand "The Graveyard" ----- The task - "Find the graveyard, deliver the package" - the price was steep but that task was steeper. "Someone out there will no where the place is" Pa had lectured as he'd dropped the case through the window of the Javelina onto the passenger seat. "find them, find the graveyard, don't f*ck this up boy. This is the biggest pay day we've ever had. don't f*ck this up" Nomad just scowled and punched the starter on the dash. The engine roared into life "don't...." Pa's words were left in the clouds of dust which spewed up behind the Quadra as it slewed out on to the highway and sped away. "Graveyard, Graveyard..." he muttered as the miles sped by. "...find the Graveyard...don't f*ck this up..." Well, as it happened there was no 'finding' necessary, he knew exactly where the graveyard was. Ever since the colour had tainted his chrome he'd known where the graveyard was... "Deliver the package... don't f*ck this up boy!"... he scrabbled about in the collective tangle of wires and chips, the empty vials of glitter and black lace in the console besides him and pulled out a shard. He held it up and smiled "F*ck yeah!" he punched it in the stereo an cranked the volume up full. The preachers lyrics screamed from the speakers as the Morgchestra front man lay down some bliss. Nomad gunned the throttle" and then the colour came.... He hated the color in his head... voices whispering... incoherent and vague...distant like his mother...distant like his name... He thumped his temple with his palm "Get out...get out ...get out...." The car veered wildly leaving the road slewing up the embankment before hurtling back down bumping up onto the blacktop, slewing left and right then finding traction and squealing away. "Always in my head, whisper... whisper.... whisper.... Get OUT!" But this time was different this time he heard them clear as if they were sitting right there in the car with him a woman's voice. "Open the case...." He glanced to the case on the seat beside him and heard Pa's words again "don't f*ck this up boy!" "Open the case... Damon" His eyes went wide "Damon!", yeah Damon that was his name. His mother was yelling - Damon, Damon, Damon as they'd screamed through the dust! "F*ck yeah!!!!!" He stamped on the brakes the car shuddered to a stop and he grabbed the case resting it on his lap "Open the case Damon" The name felt good... He thumbed the clasps and lifted the lid. The light on the high explosive flicked from green to red and the digits on the screen by its side started to tick down accompanied by an irritating beep. He felt the tendrils of the net connected device squirreling into his chrome. Opening the case had apparently initiated some corpo tracer ware "Frack!" He slapped the case closed tossed it out onto the highway and gunned the throttle. The car peeled away in a screech of tires. He watched the case dwindle in the rearview mirror and his inner clock counted down the seconds. 5...4...3....2....1... The case exploded dust bursting out mushrooming into the sky a second later and the shockwave thunderclap caught the car sendiing it into a spin. Nomad fought with the wheel barely keeping the car on the road his ears ringing from the detonation. The cloud engulfed him... Seconds ticked by... ..like a bullet shot from a gun the car burst from the billowing cloud and hurtled down the road trailing tendrils of dust. What now? He thought. He couldn't go back to the pack. The Corpo's would be pissed, real pissed, Pa would be pissed... Nowhere would be safe apart from... The colour whispered in his mind "The Graveyard!" Friends: Anyone from his pack. He likes the death metal band Morgchestra so would probably respect Jelijah "Preacher" Cage. The Nomads that run the Graveyard will know of Nomad (Damon) and his "unique" qualities as packs would often meet out in the wilds to trade and share stories. Because of his mental state he doesn't do friendship easily but he's not beyond sharing time with others just he keeps himself to himself and often his thoughts about things a disturbing to others so most people avoid engaging him in lengthy conversation. Funnily enough though since the colour has been visiting his mind he's found new lucid periods of calm where the fire in his brain is just a dull sensation on the edge of consciousness. When not with others he is with his cars or bikes or anything that burns high octane.

[MrD]

Think my app's done now

[Drinkslotsa]

Haven't read it yet but just by the picture Firestarter by prodigy just started playing in my head

[MrD]

Oh yeah you better believe it

[Ermine]

I....don't think I'll be able to keep up with this if it's going to be a faster-paced game. As much as I want to do it. Because Ritz is cool. If you can feasibly say I won't get left behind, I'll stay, though.

[Drinkslotsa]

Given how other games I've been in and DM'd have progressed, I don't think the posting rate will be too fast, but considering the post rate in our other game, I understand the concern. I'd say give the game a chance, if you feel it's too fast, then by all means I understand if you bow out, but I'd hate to miss out on the opportunity.