Hellion

The Return of Magic - An Intro

@MagratheanWhale, updated CS and added a custom image.

Mae Galanis | “Technomancer”

“Give me a box of wires and circuits any day.
People are more difficult to deal with than machines.”

Name: Mae Galanis
Gender: F
Age: 19

Appearance:

Standing at just under five feet, Mae doesn’t mind the fact that her smaller, petite stature keeps her hidden in plain sight which compliments her introverted nature. And being rather on the androgynous side, typical clothing for her had always been more or less “streetwear”, or at the very least, tshirt, jeans and sneakers. Very rarely did she ever dress up for an event, unless it was absolutely necessary. Thick dark hair usually obscures at least half her face.

Personality:

Introverted | Focused | Caring

A borderline introvert, for the most part, Mae is quite friendly and outgoing to those she knows, and rather suspicious and close-minded to just about everyone else. Her relationship to technology and the like, however, seems to surpass any human connection, as her comfort level is always highest when surrounded by programming language and the warmth of a motherboard.

History:

Mae was an only child, fostered by two loving parents who were firm but not up in her business twenty-four-seven. So, the girl spent a lot of time alone. But, as a tinkerer at heart, it was time well-spent, becoming interested in computers, electronics, and essentially how things went together. But even moreso, how they came apart and what was inside that made them tick. Time online helped to teach her just about anything, especially as she dove headfirst into the world of programming, encryptions, and hacking. Sure, it wasn't all glamorous like the movies depicted, but to a girl who loved to explore, the internet was a sea of untapped playgrounds.

For the most part, Mae was a typical introvert hailing from a bustling city, having only moved a few times in her young life due to her parents' work situation. Their long hours had Mae home by herself most of the time, which was a blessing and a curse, especially for a latchkey kid.

At nineteen years old, magic that slept deep within her psyche since birth began to manifest. Perhaps she was a late bloomer, or this was normal for someone like her, but it triggered without warning. As she sat in her bedroom mindlessly trudging through a first-person shooter, the initial wave of a strange yet familiar telepathic connection came, fusing her senses with that of the gaming console. Digitized voices, binary waves, electronic pulses, cryptic code, and holographic images surfaced as though an imaginary “heads-up display” had appeared before her. Mae had no idea what to do, and was unable to essentially shut it off, as the mental exhaustion became too much, too soon. She cowered in the corner, her mind continuing to reveal more of this unknown world, lights flickered, the television fizzled out, and as the power within her grew, there began an incessant exchange of cryptic information that she couldn't quiet, as though every piece of technology within a small radius was reaching out to her like a beacon.

Eventually the sound of her own cries echoed from the bedroom, and both parents rushed in to see their daughter curled up in a dark corner, shaking her head and confused, while electrical devices in their house -as well as surrounding homes- behaved erratically. They were at a loss, But what could her parents have done? What could anyone have done? Mae did her best to explain the situation to them, however the magnitude of the events were simply too much to comprehend.

It wasn’t until she received an email from a mysterious sender -the “benefactor”-, opening her eyes to a world that she only figured was a myth, told to scare or warn. But, something deep in the back of her mind assumed the timing of the email and the manifestation of these “abilities” were no coincidence…

Equipment:

► Apple Watch
► iPhone 13
► Bluetooth earbuds
► Pocket-sized USB backup charger
► Pack of “IceBreakers” chewing gum

Magic:

Technomancy (shadowjack) - ability to understand and manipulate/hack electronic technology through clever use of telepathic connections and obfuscation. With regard to general electronic devices, it allows the user to tap into the unit and “speak” to it to an extent, so on a simple scale, a microwave could be remotely hijacked.

Those devices, however, that are networked or connected to the internet, can be quite tricky and require a greater level of mental focus in order to “travel” through cyberspace. A user can easily get lost as well, their mind jacked into the framework for so long that it can take hours or days to come back.

[ Note: Her eyes take on an almost emerald iridescence when telepathically interfacing with a machine or traveling through the internet. Focus for her is key, and will have earbuds in and music playing as she works to filter out any ambient interference. ]

Limitations:

Like any telepathic ability, usage can be extremely mentally & physically draining depending on the level of challenge while interfacing with a particular electronic or computer system. There is even a chance that her mind could be locked into a system, while her body remains in a dormant state, which could prove fatal if left unchecked for too long.

The Return of Magic - An Intro

Oh no worries. I can edit. I wasn't quite sure what direction to go into anyway, but your feedback helps :)

The Return of Magic - An Intro

<Snipped quote by MagratheanWhale>

discord.gg/2eYBqTJe

@MagratheanWhale

Awesome. Here's a draft of my "technomancer". Let me know if the abilities work with your concept of magic or if it needs to be tweaked. I also tried to make the History fairly generic, but let me know if anything specific should be included.

WIP - Mae | “Technomancer”

Name: Mae

[picture] TBD

"Character quote" TBD

Gender: F

Age: 19

Appearance:

Standing at just under five feet, Mae doesn’t mind the fact that her smaller, petite stature keeps her hidden in plain sight which compliments her introverted nature. And being rather on the androgynous side, she leans toward gender neutral and simple wardrobes, especially those that don’t draw unwanted attention. She keeps her dark hair short most of the time, shaved down to the skin on one side, and a few ear piercings.

Personality:
Introverted | Focused | Caring

A borderline introvert, for the most part, Mae is quite friendly and outgoing to those she knows, and rather suspicious and close-minded to just about everyone else. Her relationship to technology and the like, however, seems to surpass any human connection, as her comfort level is always highest when surrounded by programming language and the warmth of a motherboard.

History:

Mae was an only child, fostered by two loving parents who were firm but not up in her business twenty-four-seven. So, the girl spent a lot of time alone. But, as a tinkerer at heart, it was time well-spent, becoming interested in computers, electronics, and essentially how things went together. But even moreso, how they came apart and what was inside that made them tick. Time online helped to teach her just about anything, especially as she dove headfirst into the world of programming, encryptions, and hacking. Sure, it wasn't all glamorous like the movies depicted, but to a girl who loved to explore, the internet was a sea of untapped playgrounds.

For the most part, Mae was a typical introvert hailing from a bustling city, having only moved a few times in her young life due to her parents' work situation. Their long hours had Mae home by herself most of the time, which was a blessing and a curse, especially for a latchkey kid.

At nineteen years old, magic that slept deep within her psyche since birth began to manifest. Perhaps she was a late bloomer, or this was normal for someone like her, but it triggered without warning. As she sat in her bedroom mindlessly trudging through a first-person shooter, the initial wave of a strange yet familiar telepathic connection came, fusing her senses with that of the gaming console. Digitized voices, binary waves, electronic pulses, cryptic code, and holographic images surfaced as though an imaginary “heads-up display” had appeared before her. Mae had no idea what to do, and was unable to essentially shut it off, as the mental exhaustion became too much, too soon. She cowered in the corner, her mind continuing to reveal more of this unknown world, lights flickered, the television fizzled out, and as the power within her grew, there began an incessant exchange of cryptic information that she couldn't quiet, as though every piece of technology within a small radius was reaching out to her like a beacon.

Eventually the sound of her own cries echoed from the bedroom, and both parents rushed in to see their daughter curled up in a dark corner, shaking her head and confused, while electrical devices in their house -as well as surrounding homes- behaved erratically. They were at a loss, But what could her parents have done? What could anyone have done? Mae did her best to explain the situation to them, however the magnitude of the events were simply too much to comprehend.

It wasn’t until she received an email from a mysterious sender -the “benefactor”-, opening her eyes to a world that she only figured was a myth, told to scare or warn. But, something deep in the back of her mind assumed the timing of the email and the manifestation of these “abilities” were no coincidence…

Equipment:

TBD

Magic:

Technomancy (shadowjack) - ability to understand and manipulate/hack electronic technology through clever use of telepathic connects and obfuscation. With regard to general electronic devices, it allows the user to tap into the unit and “speak” to it to an extent, so on a simple scale, a microwave could be remotely hijacked.

Those devices, however, that are networked or connected to the internet, can be quite tricky and require a greater level of mental focus in order to “travel” through cyberspace. A user can easily get lost as well, their mind jacked into the framework for so long that it can take hours or days to come back.

Limitations: Like any telepathic ability, usage can be extremely mentally & physically draining depending on the level of challenge while interfacing with a particular electronic or computer system. There is even a chance that her mind could be locked into a system, while her body remains in a dormant state, which could prove fatal if left unchecked for too long.

The Return of Magic - An Intro

Love the modern fantasy genre, so definitely interested if there's still room :)

Cyberpunk2077: 5th Corporate War

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The Netrunner scanned the room. First through the lens of the virtual construct which materialized in the form of the science fiction character, Kasumi. And then, through a series of screenings, pinging internal networks as she perused brief packets of data on each of the members present for the meeting. She really didn’t know much about any of them going in and wanted to be prepared for any surprises, and yet from the intel gathered within just a few seconds, she wondered if this was really the best group to pull off such a mission. Would the integrity hold? The list of cyberware on a couple of the mercs was astounding, only posing the question of whether their gear would be a liability if not kept in check.

But why did this matter to Qiara? She wasn’t running the show, nor would she ever want to. A responsibility like this is not in her wheelhouse. She supposed her real concern was more about trust of course. Trust in her teammates. Trust in the fixer. As well as her own interests in this new gig. The euros gained could definitely help her in upgrading some personal netgear, stuff that NightCorp never bothered to assist with as it wasn’t in alignment with the plans for their top netrunner and cyberguru.

Qiara’s relatively abrupt “leave of absence” from the Corpo world had been a surprise, but also she felt some liberation as the heel of the industry slowly lifted from her neck. Perhaps there were bigger things in her future?

Then Eddie entered the room, and Qiara felt her heart jump a bit. Things were starting up and perhaps she wasn’t as mentally prepared to dive into a new chapter of her life as she thought. Of course, as the beautiful Fixer began the run-down in her opening statement to the group, the Netrunner suddenly had doubts of whether or not she made the right choice in accepting the offer. She had never been in a situation like the one she found herself in now, and that alone frightened her.

She had a bad feeling about the whole situation.

Or maybe it was just the breakfast granola and fruit smoothie churning in her gut.

Cyberpunk2077: 5th Corporate War

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[:: Heywood Apartment | Meeting Day ::]

The meeting details came in that morning, and her heart jumped for a split second at the notion of possibly having to leave the confines of her Heywood apartment for the filth and wretchedness of the Night City’s more questionable areas. Especially bringing her into the heart of Watson’s Little China, where Afterlife resided, and plenty of other undesirables. It wasn’t that Qiara hated Night City, per se. No way. It had more life and color teeming within even the smallest of its veins. But rather, she saw -much like her father Lucian- a better Night City that was taking too long to surface. And one that wasn’t living under the polished designer heels of corporations, but rather had a real say in where it was headed. The people were the ones who needed a voice.

But the city was her home nevertheless, housing both a playground within the Net, and a Heywood flat that had become a part of her as much as she was a part of it. Imagine having to leave a safe haven, one you’ve spent countless hours molding and fashioning to be the perfect sanctuary for both realspace needs and those within the Net itself.

The Heywood datafortress was built from the ground up, ironclad one could say, and mostly thanks to Qiara herself. Of course no one would know this. Not her neighbors, or the elderly community who mostly resided within the string of apartments and condominiums that lined a few blocks, or the corpos with their multiple flats and overpriced clutter safely tucked away in lock boxes and walk-in closets. Nah, no one would know except for her and one other…but she was no longer on the material plane, and most likely floating in some wonderful outer dimension. Or in a dream, perhaps.

T-Bug was so many things. She could have been so much more.

---

“So why are you going through with this again, Q?”

The young woman stared into the bathroom mirror with tired eyes, as the reflection of someone she did not always recognize returned the gaze with an expression of bewilderment. Talking to herself as always. Through the anxiety. Through the confusion. The halogen light directly above her head had a low buzzing that bothered her. Something she had been meaning to ask building maintenance to take care of. But did it matter today? Not really. What mattered was that she simply had to push forward. This was a new line of work. New possibilities. And hopefully the information she needed to pinpoint the location of her grandmother’s digital consciousness in the Net. As fragmented and scattered as it might be.

A few moments later, dressed in nothing but a black lace bra and low-cut panties, Q stood at the end of the hallway which led from her bedroom into the expanse of the brightly lit living room and kitchen area, turning her nose up slightly at the mess. And by “mess”, there was nothing more than a few items displaced on the couch, coffee table, and even slung over one of the bar stools near the kitchen counter, in an otherwise minimalistically decorated living space. She was, for the most part, a neat freak, never allowing things to be out of place for long as it seemed to only drive the obsessive compulsiveness further. Before she knew it, the girl would be wiping down glass side tables, running the vacuum across glossy tiled floors, and sanitizing the kitchen counters because she felt things were just not clean enough. But, mostly it was just nice to use her legs while doing all these tasks, even if it was for a short while. The anti-rejection serum helped the pain tremendously each day to cope with her cyberware, and manage to function normally. But she was always reminded by sharp pain in her joints of the small of her back, that she would never be normal again.

---

“Ah-huh, and what is this bit of info going to cost me?”

“You know a kiss wouldn’t hurt, choom”

Qiara sighed audibly enough that her contact on the other end of the call could hear the obnoxiousness targeted directly at him. “Be glad we aren’t swimming in netspace right now, because I swear I’d kick your ass to the point that you’d be forcefully jacked out for an eternity.”

“One day, I’ll get that kiss” The other chuckled in a low gravelly voice that added a whole new level to cringe.

“I hate you.”

“I know.” The man was silent for a moment. “Anyway, I couldn’t really find jack on this Fixer you told me about. More like whispers, but nothing really confirmed. Not even sure the lady is new to Night City.”

“Yeah I don’t know.” Q rubbed both sides of her forehead. “Thanks for trying. I’ll catch ya later.”

And before the other could chime in with a last ditch effort of some awful flirtatious comment or snide remark, the communication was cut and the Netrunner sat her head back against the chair cushion to collect her thoughts. She knew little-to-nothing about this person, other than she went by the name “Eddie”, which probably held its own brand of irony. But, regardless of what really brought them together, Qiara was determined to go through with the job, and hopefully the meeting would clue her in enough to know just how far into the deep she’ll need to dive.

The time rapidly approached for the meet, which was to take place within the bowels of Afterlife, a place Q had never been inside, at least not in physical form. Safety was her number one concern, and the young woman had more protocols setup than most in her line of work. Anything to keep her distanced enough from danger but close enough to the action as it were. Holographic projections weren't anything unusual for business exchanges in Night City, and yet while most were direct-line connections to the host machines, Qiara took it a few steps further by layering firewalls and breaking up her own datastreams into billions of encrypted packets that anyone attempting to locate, interrupted, or otherwise hijack the connection would be in for a shit ton of work. By then, the Netrunner would be long offline. Of course, while it might be a lot of skill involved, there’s also an immense amount of luck that comes into play.

“Ah, I see you picked an old favorite.” Nix commented on the incoming transmission from Q, and confirmed that all was secured on their end, giving the green light to proceed with the projection.

Several optic lenses scattered throughout a small area lit up with beams of colored light near the workstation Nix sat at, going from one spectrum to another, as data was exchanged and the form of a figure materialized. A hooded character, the upper part of her pale face obscured by shadow, and dressed in a dark gray and white bodysuit, which had been the avatar indicative of a character named Kasumi Goto, who was from a popular video game of the 20th Century.

“You know me, Nix, always a fan of the old school.” Her avatar allowed a slight smirk across its lips, as a few glitches smoothed out in the projection and it was virtually impossible to tell the form wasn’t real. As far as all present at the meeting were concerned, it was about as good as they were going to get of the Netrunner in the flesh for the time being.

She gave Nix an appreciative nod, before turning her attention to the others who had shown up.

“I-uh, hope this is acceptable.” Qiara mumbled mostly to herself, folding her hands in front of her and trying to keep a steady enough composure while standing in a room full of mostly strangers. But, she was still far enough away, as this was her realm and it was easy enough to fake it from behind a wall of endless code.

Cyberpunk2077: 5th Corporate War

..
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_{collab with
@Ruby}
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Early mornings in Night City meant you could actually hear beyond the typical chaotic noises of people and industry; past the thick residue of a society choking on its own vomit. And even in a place such as that, sunrises still had the tendency to elicit feelings of a rebirth, whether for the city itself, or the people trying to make a living within its many folds.

Qiara stood on the balcony of her fifteenth floor Heywood apartment, steaming cup of coffee in hand, and dressed in nothing but a long, black tee which hit about mid-thigh, and a simple rainbow graphic of a retro and distressed “Apple” branding on the chest. The shirt had been one of her favorite pieces of clothing, being a gift from her father, Lucian, back when she first began exploring her chosen profession. One of the few reminders of a time before the accident, when life just felt simpler and made sense. The cold breeze felt good on her fair skin, and disheveled dark hair, which seemed to rarely see a brush these days. But what did it matter? She had been out of work for almost two weeks, and while she wasn’t hurting for eddies due to a fair savings account, the anxiety of not having a steady stream of solid work or income couldn’t be ignored for long. Fuck this medical leave…

The light of the new dawn peeked from behind the massive cityscape, between the cluster of corporate-owned skyscrapers and atmospheric congestion. “Today is the day, then?” She whispered to herself with eyes closed, as though her words would be carried off with the passing wind into an unknown realm of opportunity.

Perhaps.

It was late morning by the time an unexpected encrypted holo-call came through, which used a set of datakeys she had not seen in quite some time, but a sequence which bore a resemblance to a known contact. After a few seconds of unraveling the string, she noticed the call was coming from someone she had not heard from in a couple of years.

“Hello Nix.” She gave the slightly distorted holographic upper body of the dark-skinned Netrunner a half smile. “Long time.”

“Indeed.” The other nodded in agreement, still sporting his signature round shades that felt like they’d gone out of style ages ago. “I won’t take up much of your time, Q, but there’s someone you might want to meet who has access to intel regarding a certain person of interest that no one else in Night City has managed to gain.”

The woman arched an eyebrow, knowing who this “person of interest” Nix spoke of was, but at the same time curious as to who would be on his radar. And while she doesn’t quite trust the Netrunner, Qiara also knows he has proven legit on past dealings, and his intel and instinct about certain contacts and data has allowed him to stay at the top of his game for years, especially matters concerning the Old Net.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” Q couldn’t help it really. She had been looking for her grandmother -Vivian Rhyne- for several years, hitting one deadend after another. “Can this contact be trusted? Have you worked with them before? Who are they?”

There was a few seconds of silence from Nix, mostly avoiding the barrage of questions that seemed irrelevant considering the source. “Someone who can help.” He finally responded.

“Fine.” She sighed, not wanting to get caught up in twenty questions with a guy who barely spoke in full sentences to begin with. “Send me the deets.”

“No need, choom. They’re waiting in the lobby.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Qiara’s heart jumped a few beats and she almost lost a handle on the orange juice she’d been nursing for awhile, spilling a bit on her desk in the excitement. “Please tell me you’re fucking around?”

Nix was silent.

“Of course you’re not.” She sighed, quickly pulling up camera feeds to the ground floor lobby, front entry, and parking garage. A smartly dressed woman in white attire was sitting in one of the many chairs that lined the elevator walls in the main lobby.

“How did she get-” The woman stopped herself, knowing full well how this stranger gained access. “Forget it. I just wish there could have been more advanced warning.”

“Mhm.” Nix nodded, rubbing the bridge of his nose where his sunglasses sat. “Prob’ly don’t wanna keep her waiting.” Nix said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Anyway, I’m out. Just be cool.” And with that, the call ended and the holo image dissipated into digital dust.

“Great.”

---

She took less than five minutes to change into something appropriate enough for an initial meeting with someone she had never spoken to in her life. Which meant at least a nice ivory blouse with lace sleeves, a pair of black jeans, and dark close-toed wedges. Her short hair was manageable, she figured, not the typical wind-blown mess she was accustomed to, but more tamed. As the elevator doors opened into the lobby, Qiara let go of a breath she’d been holding pretty much the whole way down. She moved her powered wheelchair out onto the freshly polished marble floor, the rubber tires making a bit of a squeak as they turned slightly to face the blonde woman in the very well-tailored pant suit.

“Hi.” She smiled, her fingers on the chair’s control console a bit fidgety. “I-um, was told you wanted to see me?”

Waiting hadn’t been the difficult part for Eddie. She wasn’t fond of this arrangement; there was a reason she had taken the alias she had when she arrived in Night City. People wanted a leg up in the crushing life that was society and culture of 2077. It wasn’t great deeds, it wasn’t great works, it wasn’t how virtuous you were, or how many lives you affected for the better that meant anything in 2077. It was money, eddies, and that was the cleanest way to operate as a Fixer that she knew.

Trading information and favors could be a dangerous game. At its very core it made Eddie anxious, this entire situation she found herself in. She had spoken with the client about it, but the client was brief and dismissive.

“I don’t have the information,” she had told the client, close to stubborn.

For the first time ever, the client sounded almost…confused at her. I do. It will be given to you at the appropriate time. For now, secure her efforts in the overlying goal. The data she seeks is located in remnants of the Old Net, we know where, we know how to get to it, it is complete as it can be. I recruited you to manage this effort, Etta Elizabeth Autry, you will do what is necessary.

She might as well have been Dorothy, trying to argue with the Wizard of Oz, for all the good it did her. The information was sent over, she went over some of it with Nix, who was fascinated by it. That was a plus, he was too distracted to realize just what he was really looking at; payment. All Nix knew was that it was a window into the kind of data fortress people in 2077 were arguing about whether it even still existed, or not.

Or if it had ever existed, in truth, in the first place. Oh, she now knew and had known before, it existed. She wasn’t so sure about the story of it’s creation, let alone how it maintained through the years, but for sure it existed. White seemed appropriate for the meeting, even though it was Heywood, and somehow white and luxury seemed more apropos to Charter Hill than Heywood, but her initial instinct was something she typically followed, so white it was.

The entire pants suit was ballistic silk, thick with an almost sand silk quality to it, but supple and shimmery in the light of the lobby. Getting in hadn’t been that difficult, Nix offered help, but she preferred to do it herself. If she gave up on her Edgerunner skills, they might decay, and that was the quickest path to death in her mind.

Her top was sleeveless, and her shoulders were touched with a slight chill, but it would do no good to show it as Nix gave her the word that he had talked to the woman, so eyes would be on Eddie now. She stood when the elevator hummed to life, arms laced behind her back casually, left hand holding her right wrist, a faint smile frozen on her red painted lips and brows perked just enough to express openness and warmth on a wavelength distinctive to body language.

She thought back to Alice at seeing the chair, to highschool, to Pine Trees and the giggle fits of girls. The memory was brief, and so far away she had to remind herself that, yes, that had once long ago been her life. Very, very long ago.

“A source at NightCorp told me one of their best netrunners was on long term medical leave. Thought they might need some work. Given your merc-like history as a netrunner in the past, it inspired the idea you might want a job. This will be a very involved job, and last longer than the average kleptopunk gig…but the payment is ample, and in your case, unique. In addition to monetary, I offer information on where to find and how to access the digitized psyche of your paternal grandmother.”

Blunt cards on the proverbial table.

“I can give a few minutes, if you want to think it over,” through the entire speech, the smile remained frozen; neither diminishing, nor growing, so much as a shade on the ruby red painted and glossed lips of the Fixer. Never did she so much as move, or take her eyes off the woman’s line of sight.

And as it turned out, she thought…the doing of the meeting and proposal was, in fact, worse than the actual dread of doing it when she spoke to the client.

A few minutes…wow, that’s generous. Qiara mused, although said nothing for a few moments, as the woman’s words swirled around in her head, and the promise of information to her grandmother’s data could not be overlooked. How much did this person actually know? Maybe she had some ties to NightCorp, or perhaps has done contractual work for them in the past. Or maybe still is? The endless questions came at lightning speed, giving her neural implants a run for their money in the process, and causing a bit of anxiety to well up. But, the young woman simply smiled in response to the other who stood patiently awaiting.

“I accept.” She said rather flatly, surprising herself at such a prompt response to a job offer she barely knew anything about, but appealing to the curiosity within regardless. However, she needed some assurance of that carrot dangling from the string.

“Under one condition, though.” She caught herself biting her lip out of nervousness. Unsure if this was even the right time to ask. “Do you at least have a single shred of proof to your claims of information regarding Vivian Rhyne?” Eh, yeah, that sounded a lot less confrontational in her head. “I mean…I’d like to know that you’re good on your word, considering the key stipulation of this agreement weighs heavily on such information.”

“Alt Cunningham helped her escape to a Ghost City. I could tell you where, and you could be distracted trying to get to her yourself, but my contact is absolute beyond certain you’re not unlocking the right doors without being the best Netrunner there ever was, or will be…and I could really use you not distracted while my life and the lives of others will depend on you being at the very top of your game, so let’s just say you’re not getting to her without the map, the keys, and a little help.”

Eddie’s smile had vanished, a right eyebrow curiously perking above the left instead, “Fair?”

“Fair.”

Cyberpunk2077: 5th Corporate War

Just an note I don't really have much in the way of plans for my character so I'm going to just sit him in the diner unless you want me to have him go rough up some thug across the street or something.

@vancexentan

No worries. You're free to do as much as or as little as you want

Cyberpunk2077: 5th Corporate War

[ :::: 21:30 | Harmony Church | Little China | Watson District :::: ]

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“If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you been here?”

There was a pause from the older woman, who placed a gentle hand on the head of the little girl curled up fast asleep next to her on the dusty and scuffed hardwood floor. Judging by the momentary twitching of her petite frame, most likely dreaming of a much better place than their current setting.

“Too long.” She sighed, glancing over the disheveled interior of the old church from their vantage point at the foot of the altar. The woman, pushing close to forty, dark lines under tired eyes, and wearing layers of second-hand clothing to keep out the chill that loomed in the air like an apparition, stared blankly across the expanse of the dimly lit inner sanctuary before reeling her thoughts in. Shoulder-length brown hair covered part of her face where she’d tried to hide a bruised cheek. “But it’s all we have for now.” She swallowed, her throat parched from the dry, stale air. “It’s just a shame the city had to come to this. Bastards roam the streets, the rich get richer, and everyone else…well they wither away to be forgotten.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” The younger of the two women nodded, her voice was kept low enough to combat the immense acoustics of the open room, not wanting the exchange of words between the two to carry any further than needed. “You and your daughter shouldn’t be living like this.” She shook her head. “No one should have to live in filth.”

“Look miss, I appreciate your stance on the matter-” The older one broke eye contact briefly to check on her slumbering offspring, running fingers through the girl’s dark, wavy hair. “But please don’t feel like we need to be your charity case either. We can manage. I only want what’s best for this one.”

“Of course. And please, call me ‘Q’.” The other nodded, allowing a warm smile to stretch across her lips. “And I don’t see you and your daughter as some ‘charity case’, but rather hope for the future of this city. It was a dream that Bug had, and I hope to carry that dream for her as long as I can, with the tools and resources I have at my disposal.”

The older woman cracked a smile and nodded, wiping a tear that welled up before making its way down a single cheek. As if by impulse, she reached to take the hand of the younger woman in her own, only to be reminded too quickly that there was no skin-to-skin purchase, but rather the momentary disruption of the holographic projection emanating from the podium just above their heads. Her appearance, however, shrouded in the guise of a hooded figure dressed head-to-toe in simple and unremarkable black and dark grays; the upper half of her visage obscured by the dense shadow of the hood. Q simply cocked her head, the woman’s gesture more significant than she expected.

“I’m sor-” She choked on the words momentarily, trying to hold back her own emotions. “I’m sorry I can’t be there in person.”

“It’s fine.” The woman retracted her hands, seeming a bit embarrassed. “T-Bug was a good friend to the cause, and we really do appreciate what you’re doing to help, as well as keeping her precious spirit alive.”

And alive was exactly what Qiara had hoped for after so much time had passed since her friend T-Bug was zeroed while on a job for the fixer, Dex. And while the man’s own death didn’t bring her friend back, at least there seemed some poetic justice, as karma was a bitch no matter who you were.

One of the lesser known things about Bug was that she had a heart for Night City’s less fortunate -especially women and children- and did what she could for various shelters and programs that facilitated the fight against poverty, domestic violence, and the failing foster care system. A cause that really hit home for Qiara, and a fight she hoped to continue on; for her city and for her friend.

“Look, I gotta go.” Q sighed as proximity alerts were sending flares from various unauthorized transmission packets. “This network isn’t as secure as it once was and I’d rather not push our luck.”

“Understood. Thank you again.”

And with that, Qiara jacked out of the network, allowing her consciousness to slowly return to where she had physically been the whole time: her Heywood apartment. As she had done a million times prior, the girl keyed in the correct protocols to back out of the system so as to not fry her brain in the process of disconnecting from such complex systems. And when things settled enough, she lifted the HUD visor from her head, and removed a few of the multicolored insulated connectors from small serial port holes just behind her ear and neck. This process was about as old and stale as any routine could get, but better to play it safe than be a cocky and (eventually) dead runner, assuming that you’re impervious to the unpredictabilities of the Net.

No one is. T-Bug knew that.

It had only been a few days, and being on medical leave from her position at NightCorp sucked, mainly because she really had no idea how long the term would last. Was it up to her when it ended, or merely a thumbprint from her physician, clearing her for active duty once again with the corporation? Sure, her position, salary, and corporate access would be kept secured until her reinstatement, but she felt a void deep down, as though she needed to be needed. Somewhere. Although, she was at least relieved her medical benefits and Trauma Team privileges were kept intact, something of which was paramount in her ongoing condition regarding cyberware rejection. An irony really, having to maintain a certain lifestyle and career choice using technology that could just as easily end her life, or send her mind over the edge where many in her line of work don’t return.

The nature of the game.

However, no matter where she spent her Net time, by the end of the day, Qiara was mentally exhausted, and only wished to crawl into a warm, bubbly tub for the rest of the evening. And so a routine it was, to keep herself at the top of the game each day, jacking in and out of various datapools and fortresses, updating and rewriting programs, and continuing her search for her grandmother’s missing data, all while having very little in the way of a social life. But why? She didn’t need the company of strangers to occupy her mind when she had the virtual world as a sufficient -and frankly, safer- alternative to dealing with people face-to-face. Friends she had, maybe more than expected, but most were also just as introverted as she, and used the Net as not only an escape from the emotional drain of the real world, but a social platform as well, meeting like-minded others for a night out on the town, or perhaps to feed a particular sexual need that would never surface in the physical realm.

Either way, she was ready to end her day as she slowly stood up from the powered wheelchair, a piece of equipment she’d been mostly confined to since the accident years ago. The cybernetic implants fused and networked to the nerves, bones, and muscles of her lower extremities did most of the work, allowing her to use her legs for a few hours at a time as any normal person would before the need for anti-rejection medication was needed. A huge drawback due to a very rare genetic makeup, but a life she had no choice but to adjust to if she wanted to continue on.

Taking a few steps toward the window, she opened the blinds only to realize that it was raining, something that was tough to hear with the entire building itself being very well insulated from noise and the elements. Qiara loved the rain though, her eyes flicking from the countless droplets running down the glass to the neon cityscape engulfed in a shroud of wet and cold. Perhaps the rain was good for NightCity, as it washed away the waste from moments prior, even if only for a little while.

Cyberpunk2077: 5th Corporate War

Round II of reviews are finished!

Congratz to the following sheets:

@Mao Mao Bluejay
@vancexentan John Brown

Feel free to post your CS in the character tab at your leisure.

Also, GMs are continuing to review submissions, so stay tuned!