Name: Takamori Saki
Callsign: Kirin
Age: 16
Height: 150cm
Weight: 45kg
Nationality: Japanese
Tank Role: Driver
Infantry Role: Demolitions
Personality: Saki has lived a long, tough life in just sixteen years, and it's made her a bit more pessimistic than most. However, that pessimism (bordering on nihilism) is tempered with an iron will and a paradoxical desire to keep fighting even when she knows the odds are stacked in the house's favor. She also has a very cavalier attitude towards life and death, one that leaves her willing to take risks that would be branded 'suicidal' by anybody tragically inflicted with self-preservation instincts. In her defense, it's hard to not risk your life when you're wearing a bandolier of homemade grenades.
Bio: Once upon a time, the Takamoris were a happy little family. They had lived on Izayoi for generations, tending to their small farm in the highlands. They mostly raised sheep, and chickens, and grew some vegetables. It wasn't an easy life; with just four people (Hyoube, the father; Kyoumi, the mother; Takeo, the oldest son; and Saki, the youngest daughter), there was always work to be done, and it was hard to ignore the obvious steady decline. Still, the little family kept at it, eking out a living as best they could.
And then a horde of mutants attacked the farm, stole the animals, and dragged Hyoube, kicking and screaming, off into the night. Saki was six at the time. It's not one of her favorite memories.
The Takamoris left behind what was left of their home, and moved down into Omi village. They took up residence in a hovel on the edge of town, doing everything they could to keep food on the table. Takeo and Saki did errands for other villagers, and Kyoumi took up sewing, turning whatever scraps of cloth she could find into sturdy, utilitarian clothing. They went hungry many nights, but they were safe in the village, and Saki loved having neighbors to play with. They hadn't had those on the farm.
And then a gang of yakuza kidnapped Kyoumi. Saki has no idea what happened to her, and she does her best to keep it that way. She was nine at the time.
Orphaned, Takeo and Saki left Omi to go to the one place they might be able to find shelter: Cartwright Academy. Brother and sister were admitted to the small school, where for the first time in his life, Takeo had a chance to shine. Two years after admittance, he was made commander of his tank crew at the young age of sixteen, and earned glory and respect in numerous actions against the many hostiles that would have plagued Omi without the Academy's protection. But every moment he wasn't with his crew, he spent with his little sister, the only family he had left in the world. She was beginning to excel in her classes, showing the same promise that he had, and it was sometimes hard to stomach how proud the two siblings were of one another.
...And then Takeo was killed in action against a swarm of drones. They recovered the body, at least. Well, parts of it. Probably. It was hard to tell who was who when the entire tank crew had been rendered into mulch.
Saki was twelve at the time. As her brother was buried with full honors, she made a realization that no child her age should ever have had: the world was shit, and getting worse. What little remained of civilization was the barest shadow of what it had once been, and every day was a losing battle to keep going. If the yakuza didn't burn them down from the inside, then the mutants would probably eat them or something, and if that didn't do it, an AI would probably use them for target practice. And that was if they didn't starve, or succumb to radiation sickness, or freeze to death in the winter, or die from infected wounds, or fucking commit suicide or something.
Realizing this simple, stark truth, most would have given up. Saki, however, decided that she hated the world enough that the best way to tell it to go fuck itself was to keep on living, no matter what it threw at her. She drowned herself in her classes, picking up every scrap of knowledge she could use to fight. She showed great skill in commandeering a tank ("you can't do donuts in an MBT", they said. Saki proved them wrong), and a disturbing proficiency for explosives of all types ("Takamori, for the last god damn time, stop sculpting your C4 into penises." "Make me.").
...Aaaaaaand then Cartwright Academy was reduced to a smoking pile of rubble by some unknown dickhole. At this point, Saki has stopped being sad and started being flatly pissed off.
