[table][row][cell][color=Gainsboro] 
[hr][h2][color=#0080ff]KC[/color][/h2][hr]
[color=ff3838][sub][b]History[/b][/sub][/color]
[justify]Born to a young misfit couple on Callisto who sold her to one of its many factory estates as a child, Keema was destined for a tough life. She began working on assembly lines soon after the Hollow Mills estate "adopted" her, building holo-hoops and children's data-pads that she herself would never get to play with. At age thirteen, she inhaled her first hit of Lexipand after refusing the drug for years, afraid she would catch the addiction that drove her parents to sell their only child. The gene was quickly triggered, and despite her best efforts, the cycle began soon after. Wake, work, whoosh! Repeat.

It didn't take long for Keema to begin seeking out substances on her own, and eventually she began using money saved for food and rent on purchases of Lexipand. Predictably, compensation from the factory was not enough to cover her newfound extra-curricular activities [b]and[/b] basic living expenses. Only a year after she started using, she vacated her position at the factory to enlist with Drego, a black budget, Callisto-based security guild that seemed to be the only option that would provide her with food and shelter in addition to a modest stipend. The guild was known for recruiting and pumping out young enforcers for the purposes of keeping the peace at factories like the one she grew up in. Keema, physically invigorated and optimistic from the drug use, trained hard and strode to be exceptional in her class. In time, she found that she really did enjoy the feeling of wielding a knife in defense, or squinting into the scope of a rifle, and in fact, had a knack for both. She saved enough of her stipend from friendly discounts toward her "medication" that she was able to buy a very cheap ocular implant for her left eye, which allowed her speedy facial recognition and better interfacing with the scopes she was handling.

Throughout her time training with Drego, Keema continued to meet with her local plug in the back-alley of the Quantum Byte. Whether the oxytocin that flooded her brain was natural or synthetic, Keema felt a deep connection with Aydin Aux, whom she swiftly became enamored with. Handoffs every two weeks quickly turned into once a week meetups, and soon the two were hanging out without any pretenses after her security shifts. Keema had never felt so seen or cared for, nor had she ever shaken from belly-laughs, which Aydin was easily able to draw from her. The young man with the softest hands taught her how to find joy in this shithole, how to snort powders, and how to make love.

Life was going quite swimmingly in Keema's opinion. Unfortunately, that opinion was very much skewed due to the addiction that enveloped her. Despite her best efforts to disguise it, her need for consumption stopped for nothing and no one, and her poor performance during security shifts began to cause concern among the Drego officers. Soon she was discharged from the company, declared too much of a liability and a distraction. She would have been devastated at the loss of her livelihood had Aydin not offered to introduce her to Garran Voith, one of the big bosses of The Syndic Eight. Keema immediately ingratiated herself to Mr. Voith, offering up her skills in exchange for employment and protection. Having no other point of reference, Gravel became somewhat of a father-figure in her eyes, and she did everything she could to do right by him and Aydin. It finally felt like she had found a motley family of sorts to call her own, and Keema allowed herself to breathe easily in their company. She spent many years utilizing her training to keep the guild’s smugglers safe on their routes to and fro, keen on making sure the chemicals to alcohol ratio in her system never rendered her an unreliable team member.

It was a grey evening much like most evenings in the slums of Callisto when Keema woke to find Aydin unresponsive in the bed next to her. The image of him lying there with his eyes half-open, jaw hanging slack, completely departed from his body, burned itself into her core. She felt, but did not register, her trembling fingers fumbling with her holophone to call Gravel and inform him that Aydin's body was cold in their apartment from what she thought was probably an overdose of a narcotic they sold: Soma. The rest of the evening was a blur, and when she finally stopped to focus, she found that she was boarding a ship headed for Europa. She spent the next couple of years frolicking about in a manic whirlwind, working as a gun-for-hire and indulging her raging hedonistic tendencies in love hotels, clubs, and dingy bars. Soon the well of available jobs dried up, along with her purse, and she crawled her way back to Callisto in search of her old boss and the possibility of a new gig.[/justify]

[color=ff3838][sub][b]Personality & Reputation[/b][/sub][/color]
[justify]When properly medicated, Keema is loud, jovial, and quick-witted. The hardships she's faced seem to only encourage her upbeat "Life is too short to pout" attitude. People often observe that she has no inkling of the concept of personal space. Always one to run headfirst into the fray, Keema acts first, asks questions later, and will try just about anything once. When she feels connected to someone, she is a fiercely loyal and protective entity. One can usually tell when she is off her "meds” when she becomes the complete opposite of her regularly presented self. So if one sees her dipping into her little red tin, it’s probably best to pretend they didn’t.[/justify]

[color=ff3838][sub][b]Appearance[/b][/sub][/color]
[justify]Keema stands at an average of 5’8” with tattoos littered around an athletic build. Her red hair falls just past her shoulders and is shaved on the sides. The human eye, her right eye, is a muted green color. Her left eye is a fifth generation ocular implant; it looks slightly glazed over with a gray iris in the center. There are several thin scars on her face from knife injuries and some blemishes due to her dry skin, courtesy of all her drinking; though she still considers herself relatively attractive. She's usually wearing her big black combat boots and loose-fitting clothing, and is always sporting a worn, black leather utility belt that has two small pouches and two sheaths for her switchblade and pistol. There is also a simple titanium band around her right pointer finger that she never takes off.[/justify]

[color=ff3838][sub][b]Strengths & Limitations[/b][/sub][/color]
[justify][list][*][b]Strengths: [/b]If focused and properly functioning, Keema's combat training is top notch, especially when it comes to long distance sniping, hand-to-hand, and knifework. Her ocular implant is quite helpful when scanning for faces in crowds or scoping out the dark. She likes to think she's great at rallying the squad. It's also rumored that she is a generous lover.
[*][b]Limitations:[/b] Her addiction to stimulants and alcohol provide her obvious physical and mental limitations, as well as the consequent withdrawal periods, which render her relatively useless. She possess the inability to stop and think through a plan. Some folks may also find her a bit too brash when she's "on". Her ocular implant refuses to cooperate sometimes.[/list][/justify]

[color=ff3838][sub][b]Miscellaneous[/b][/sub][/color]
[justify][list][*]Keema is listed as discharged from the Drego corporation.
[*] Left eye is a cybernetic ocular implant. It allows for more precise aiming, quick facial recognition, and night-vision. Of course, it’s only fifth generation and hasn’t gotten updated in quite some time, so…
[*] Keema never leaves the house without a pack of cigarettes and lighter, her trusty switchblade, a standard issue pistol, a green flask, and a small red metal tin that’s kept close to her person at all times.
[*] If there's music, she will dance. No questions asked.
[/list][/justify][/color][/cell][cell][sub][sup][color=2e2c2c]____________________________________________________________________________[/color][/sup][/sub][hr][color=Gainsboro][h3]◤  [sub]“My finger twitches faster than my brain, so don't make me think too hard.”[/sub][/h3][/color]
[img=portrait goes here]https://i.postimg.cc/Jzm3YmKZ/Keema-Collum.jpg[/img]
[hr][color=ff3838][b]Full Name:[/b][/color] Keema Collum
[color=ff3838][b]Age:[/b][/color] 30
[color=ff3838][b]Homeworld:[/b][/color] Callisto
[color=ff3838][b]Occupation:[/b][/color] Gun for Hire
[color=ff3838][b]Affiliation(s):[/b][/color] N/A
[hr][/cell][/row][/table]

[hider=Everest]
[i]This fuckin' guy. He's so cute with his bright eyes and big plans! The pressed collars, the pleated pants, the perfect smile... I've seen his configuration a million times over back on Europa. Except this one has yet to invite me along for a line in the bathroom. Oh, I'd say yes in a heartbeat! Everest would probably know where to get the [b]good[/b] stuff, too. Not that he'd know how to really enjoy it... I could show him, though. I could really expand that little corpo mind of his. Show him that there's more out there than productivity reports and performance reviews. He handles the crew well enough with his fancy talk. And he doesn't smell! Always a plus, especially with a face like that. Maybe once he's done playing pirate captain, we could actually have some fun.[/i][/hider]
[hider=Vĩnh]
[i]Ms. Bookworm! Ms. "Please stop leaving your clothes on the floor"! The bottom to my top! Bunk, that is! I'm really careful not to leave my [b]other[/b] shit out in the room - she has this weird habit of cleaning all the time. Actually, I'm sure she'd believe me if I told her it was just regular-degular medication. She's got a kind disposition like that. Or maybe it's just a coping mechanism. I can tell that she's hiding her pain, sometimes. I would offer her something from my stash, but I doubt she'd accept the help. It's been actual ages since I've been in the company of someone so... [b]sober[/b]. It's honestly sweet, the way she's warmed up to me. I mean, what's not to like? I'm sure she's got an interesting story for those black eyes and detachable limbs. Maybe she's already told me... Eh, I can't remember. I just hope I don't trip on her freakin' arm in the middle of the night! That would be mighty awkward. But also - kind of funny?[/i][/hider]
[hider=Garran]
[i]I would follow Gravel to the ends of the black and back. I'm sure that's no secret to him. Or anyone else, for that matter. I can't hide the way I look at him: like a personal compass, my own north star, or an anchor, steadfast and unwavering. Garran never asked for that, though. He's been through so much. [b]I've[/b] put him through so much! I left him once, with a body and a mess, and I'll never atone for that, no matter how I try. Nothing will ever bring back our sweet boy. But by some twisted miracle, the old bastard is still here. Alive and kicking. I have unbelievable luck on my side if he still trusts me enough to bring me onto this crew with him. He may be the one person who could ask me to get clean and I would at least consider it. I fucking love that man! I really, truly do. And even if he'd never, ever say it out loud - I know he loves me, too.[/i]
[/hider]
[hider=Jax]
[i]Oh, Laughtrack? That boy RULES! Why aren't all teen-somethings just like him? Actually, why aren't all spacers just like him? In another life, I was awarded a little brother, and it was Jax. While the rest of the world wastes time milling around with their thumbs up their asses, he and I will be sitting next to each other, legs swinging, watching things combust and go BOOM! until the black swallows us whole - and we would [b]still[/b] have a better time. I have no idea where he gets all that energy without the "fuel", but thank the stars I'm not the only one around here who knows how to have a good time. I really hope he makes it. I'll do my shitting best to keep him afloat. The kid deserves a shot out here.[/i]
[/hider]
[hider=Rol]
[i]I've never seen anyone as passionate in the kitchen as this man. Or rather, I've never seen anyone spend as much time as Chef does in the kitchen. Come to think of it... I don't know if I've ever seen the guy outside of the kitchen. At meetings in the lounge, sure, but I'd believe it if someone said the guy actually sleeps in there. He seems a little quiet. But maybe that's just because I'm usually yapping at him. I'm sure he loves it when I barge in to keep him company with my awesomeness while he stirs and stirs and stirs. Meals in my life were never really "prepared" so much as assembled on a plate, so this idea of having an internal chef is entirely new to me. But hey, I'm not complaining! The times when I do have an appetite, he takes care of me. I make sure to say please and thank you, of course. I'm not completely out of touch. Plus, he keeps his brewed kombucha flowing, and that makes me a happy gal. [/i]
[/hider]
[hider=Ramon]
[i]This one... He's a tough nut to crack. And I thought Gravel was crunchy! At least I could crack a smile out of [u]him[/u] every now and then. This one is a steel fortress. A [b]moody[/b] steel fortress. A moody steel fortress that was born from a tube! At least, according to the rumors. I bet this guy has some crazy ass stories... Maybe one day I'll get him to share a drink with me. I could probably get him to open up, for sure! Help him take a load off and get a little loose! I'm great at that! He's so tightly wound. It's a miracle he ever gets any sleep. Actually, I've never seen him sleep with my own eyes so. Maybe Jax was right - maybe he's just actually a robot. Honestly, I think if Jax and I shut up long enough, we could probably hear the guy tickin' away. Like a bomb. What happens when the clock finally stops? Pffft. I have no idea - But I definitely want to be there to watch.[/i]
[/hider]
[hider=Desna]
[i]Truthfully an icon in her own right, with a cigarette glued to her lips and the neck of a bottle plastered to her hand. We're kinda the same in that way. She'd honestly be a cute little raisin if it weren't for that pointy attitude of hers. Apparently she has a bone to pick with everyone! Well, she [b]did[/b] get really mad at me that one time I caught her humming in the balcony when I walked by. It's probably why she hates me now. And keeps calling me fuckin' Kasey. I told her it's K-C. Like, just the letters. My name isn't Kasey. Maybe she just getting old and can't hear properly, so she doesn't realize that the "kuh" and the "ssss" sounds are separate. I should start wearing a name tag around her. Or maybe she's just constantly buzzed? I mean, listen, I get it. It's boring as hell on this ship. I should convince her to share whatever it is she's sipping on...[/i]
[/hider]
[hider=Sara]
[i]When I think about Bambi, I think about those SFN recruitment posters with the cliché smile pasted on a face and a thumbs up to show that they're "one of the good guys". I can tell she's never taken a pill for fun in her life. That's fine! She's nice enough without them, bless her. In fact, I envy her normalness sometimes. I kinda wish it'd rub off on me. The total complacency. The blanket likeability. The badass piloting skills! Although if I've learned anything in this life, it's that everyone is burying something. Especially someone who is as composed as her. Hell, it's probably buried soooo deep at this point that she doesn't even know what it is anymore. At least [b]I[/b] know what my thing is. And when I'm burying it, I bury it with a good fuckin' time. One day, maybe soon, maybe not - that thing will catch up with her, and I'll be ready with my stash. Like a good buddy.[/i]
[/hider]