Opposition

closed or whatever don't look at this

The Girl With Empty Eyes

╚══════════════╝

[The Stranger who lost herself in the emptiness]

AT A QUICK GLANCE

►5 feet 3 inches tall
►120 lbs
►Japanese American
►Short, straight black hair
►Consistently wears a black beret and round sunglasses
►Wears a black jacket, black skirt, and black leggings
►Looks to be in her early twenties

APPEARANCE

A certain poise seems to offset the girl’s small stature in presence and presentation. She is slight, but appears more active than emaciated. Her movements are decisive, quick, and careful, with a bit of an airy quality to the way she tries to mimic a sense of grace with each subtle gesture at ease. She keeps her black hair straight and short, often brushed behind her ears to keep it out of the way and settling along her neck. With a pale tint to her skin the girl’s eyes are made all the more prominent, striking not so much because they are imposing or uninviting, but rather because of the sheer emptiness that they seem to hold. She is almost always caught somewhere between a sly, pretentious expression and an unreadable poker-face.

The girl is clearly very exact in cultivating and maintaining her style on a daily basis. She prefers dark colors in sleek outfits that are a mixture of functional and fashionable. With either a dress or a shirt and skirt, she is sure to accessorize with a practical jacket, leggings, and her signature array of berets to choose from. She is the sort who also has a sort of unhealthy obsession with sunglasses, her favorite pair being distinctly round.

ANYTHING... OFF?

Something’s incredibly off. She’s unreadable. The girl seems to be locked in a perpetual state of duality. Empty eyes. Empty expression. Empty gestures. Her composure and resolve are entirely alien, but carry a sort of knowing grace that unnerves all onlookers. She knows something you don't. She's hiding it. Her poker-face is impeccable. Dread, just being around her. Don't trust her.

OTHER

"Duality in all things.”

---

Yeah, I'll come back if you'll have me this time around. I'm glad to see you're still grinding this continuous storyline, and I've got some ideas waiting in the wings, though I'll have to be caught up on the wild 'world-eater' lore.

Lostman Graffiti [Urban Fantasy]

I'm also drawn to Urbex/Occult club or sharehouse ideas though am 100% for the mega-complex love game. That would absolutely put writing skills to the test and leave tensions high.

Really I could go for most of the ideas. Shiftmates/in the same degree program/a cult? are all interesting options as well. The concept I'm toying with could work for any of the above.

The Gilded Age | Getting Filthy Rich and Richly Corrupt in America | Nation RP

This is just the era that piques my interest. I'd love to give it a shot.

Forest Interest Check

Curious. I'll be watching.

Lostman Graffiti [Urban Fantasy]

@ERode
I've not got a character age in mind yet, as that will depend on the overall concept I'm going for, but university level should suffice for me as well. In the same vein, I'm not quite sure about having any particular abilities yet, as I wanted to clarify a bit of the lore regarding the Lostman. Are these only the result of granted wishes or could it happen in a more unplanned manner?

Mainly, I'll be holding off on drafting a character concept until we have everything settled and a character sheet ready. For the most part, I focus on character/plot development in RPs. If the plot involves unraveling mystery, that works great.

Lostman Graffiti [Urban Fantasy]

I'm unsure if I am yet able to meet the regular posting requirements, but the idea is rather interesting, so I'll be watching.

𝔽𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪: 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝔾𝕒𝕞𝕖 - Cyberpunk Political Intrigue Roleplay

𝔽𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪: 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕒t 𝔾𝕒𝕞𝕖

Hoist the Black Flag, Broadcast to the Masses!

𝕊𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕥 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕤

ℝ𝕖𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕞 ℤ𝕠𝕟𝕖, 𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕥𝕙 ℂ𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕊𝕡𝕣𝕒𝕨𝕝
𝔸𝕡𝕣𝕚𝕝 𝟙𝕤𝕥, 𝟚𝟘𝟞𝟝 𝟙𝟠:𝟚𝟘
[ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕖, 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕧𝕒𝕟] 𝔼𝕩𝕖𝕔𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘...

_{@DeadDrop@Jarl Coolgruuf}

Serena seated herself in the kind of generously large leather armchair that had to be a century old, and if it was a century old, then it was kept in pristine condition—like in a senator’s house or something. She practiced her poses in the array of screens and battery of lenses forming a wall in front of her, sent a devious grin into the cameras, a grin which became even devious-er when she caught sight of her reflection of her reflection in her oversized cool-gal sunglasses. Her associates were the only others in the room, though there were to be plenty more spectators soon.

“Associates,” she said. “Lawyerman.” She contorted her body in a way that only the unnecessarily augmented might be able to so she could face him. “You’re job is to deal with… lawyer things.” It was always hard to keep Petrukov’s focus, even in times of great importance. Even then, she fiddled with the control panel on her microphone board, not content to start speaking again until her voice had an overlapping resonance to it, you know, like a god. “If someone wants to take the stream down via, you know, the law.” She nodded to Johnny and gave him a thumbs up. “Kill ‘em...”

“Also, I’ll count on your advice. I hope you read the speech ahead of time. I forgot to email it to you.”

“Bodyguardman!” Petrukov twisted once again until she was facing the door. A lone burly man with cybernetic arms stood in front of the door in that classic bouncer-surveying-the-place, arms-crossed, not-looking-too-happy sort of way. Despite the protests of her media manager, Serena had demanded that he be in the background of the cameras’ footage, mostly because he was the biggest person in the room. “Look menacing.” She hit him with akimbo finger guns.

“And Hackerwoman!” Serena twisted, paused, sipped from a cocktail glass of some fizzy, very-likely non-alcoholic drink. “I’m sure our collective enemies don’t want the masses to hear the manifesto of the Pirates, but someone—” her voice wavered a bit, as though she were actually getting emotional. “Someone must address them. It must be me. So… Action stations! Send the blasts on my massive social media accounts.” In her call to action to her employees, Serena had completely forgotten (or disregarded on purpose) her media manager as well as the small press team that was allowed on scene, relegated to a mostly empty corner save for a few folding chairs.

Serena spent the next few minutes screwing with the modulation and pitch of the music on her control board. After all, it was the centerpiece of the whole broadcast. What was her loyal following without pPirated music. When the minute-long countdown clock started, she finally settled on a song, satisfied with her masterfully-mixed queue. A tension blossomed in the room where the silence then festered. 20 seconds.

“Now,” she twisted again in her seat, mirrorshades facing off with the cameras. Petrukov was the sort that never quite sat right in chairs, but she was assured she looked regal and Pirate-y nonetheless. “Hoist the Black Flag!”

10 seconds.

“Miss Petrukov. Uh, there’s no place to hang it up, and all you brought was the flag…” The voice of her publicist seared into her brain and made her boss’s steely gaze falter for just a second. Serena knew just what to do.

“Bodyguardman!”

5 seconds. 4 seconds. 3 seconds. Action…

>>>𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘...
>>>...
>>>...

“People of the Twin City Sprawl and greater America,” the Pirate Captain spread her arms wide in a grand gesture. Those waiting in the broadcast chat were already flooding the window with spammed messages. “As you know, the final debate for Twin City Sprawl Councilwoman candidacy is fast approaching. My crew has just arrived in the Reclaim Zone to prepare ahead of time and ensure our enemies are playing by the rules.”

𝕎𝕙𝕠 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕘𝕦𝕪…<<<

ℙ𝕚𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖 ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕪 𝕠𝕟 𝕒 𝕓𝕦𝕕𝕘𝕖𝕥<<<

𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕝𝕒𝕘<<<

“But the Pirate Army is quite an observant group, and it is as you suspect!” The broadcast hit a spike of Labyrinth interference, though its cause was rather unclear, particularly due to the spike of 3D viewers in the net. With the projection array in a once quiet, calm, blank space of Labyrinth, it was suddenly swarmed with signals and signatures, all prying eyes, all with varied intentions.

“And they’re not the most careful bunch either. Information was once a commodity best left to anarchy. Now, the attempts to regulate and protect the Labyrinth to hide the secrets of megacorps is muddying the space for its base users.” Stray signals shot from the growing horde of black code-streams now swarming the broadcast. It was hard to tell who was trying to access what, but the number of viewers continued to climb.

“Even now, their secrets are hidden behind complex security protocols… No match for any Pirate with half a brain. So the debate in the Reclaim Zone will be quite an important one. For those of you that cannot attend live, please ignore the censorship of the mainstream media and direct your attention once again the Pirate-streamed broadcast free of charge. Gatch, Faren, Washington,” she paused. “The other guy—they’ll all have secrets to reveal at the debate, I’m sure. If not...” Petrukov sighed and shrugged. “Perhaps the Pirates will help them along the way on that matter…”

The Pirate Bodyguard was as solid as a rock with his arms spread wide to proudly display the jolly roger. This was what he lifted for. Not a single of his rippling muscles moved. Like steel.

“But the point is the Pirates will have a gambit of their own prepared. Something big—something you’ll all love, I’m sure—is coming. Something that will rock the entire election, the entire system even! All we can say now,” Serena sent an off-camera smile to her lawyer. “Is that you’ll all have your minds made up. Only days away. Await the revelation of the Pirates in the Reclaim. Here for the people in a time of danger, there’s no way to vote. Cast your ballot black.”

Petrukov let the message simmer for a bit, playing with her control board so that her image faded to a silhouette. “That’s all for now my faithful free spirits. I must attend to ensuring the freedom of the people, but the stream goes on! My staff will remain to answer questions from the masses!”

She snapped her fingers and the black flag fell over her visage, concealing her in an even darker blackness. That was the signal. A horrible screeching sound resounded through the mics as her Bodyguard started pulling the large chair back and then offscreen. It certainly wasn’t as dramatic an exit as she’d hoped.

𝔽𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪: 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝔾𝕒𝕞𝕖 - Cyberpunk Political Intrigue Roleplay

Hold My Vodka-Mountain Dew Voltage

>>>𝔸𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕛𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕃𝕒𝕣𝕘𝕖 𝕎𝕖𝕓 𝕠𝕗 𝕊𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕦𝕝𝕦𝕤...
>>>ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕝𝕪 𝔸𝕦𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕕, ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕝𝕪 𝕀ℂ𝔼'𝕕, ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕝𝕪 𝔸𝕟𝕘𝕣𝕪...
>>>𝕃𝕠𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕃𝕒𝕓𝕪𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕙… 𝕆𝕣 𝕊𝟘𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘...
>>>...

He was webbed, like a spider, she thought. The crawling spirals of code and ICE swirled about him like a cloud of pheromones to the unsuspecting Mega-hacker. It obscured his suave step, at least to someone lost in thought, wrought to ponder the awful concepts inherent in the swirling data maelstrom. She strained her eyes, trying to focus on the epicenter of the storm, but the signals she received were far too many. She cocked her head to the side, interpreting an inverted line of Labyrinth leaking out of his tech.

Another beast. Another creature.

Spider

Lost in its web

Approaching fast! Fuck,
React!

We’re back. Back, I tell you.

Lost.
Mad.

Still trapped.

Still in the game? Another enemy? Lash out and attack!

But alas, Delilah just stood there, like a drooling idiot. This time it was the patterns in his glasses that cast their spell upon her. The red and blue filters only further abstracted her mente scindendris, SPECS, mental picture— so elaborate.

She would not be beat! Damn it.

The Shaman of the Labyrinth had no weakness.
She, the Genius.

But this opponent was different.

Different.

Held his own kind of magic, in fact.

Alert! Alert! Calling all players in the 𝔾𝕒𝕞𝕖 to their brain battlestations. There’s a dangerous mage. Their distance apart was no more than a few paces.
Delilah sent out a distress call to her bodyguards right away.

>>> ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾…

But it didn’t quite go that way. She hit, perchance, a different contact. She didn’t have bodyguards. It was just the Shaman, alone, locked in that head of hers.

>>> “ℍ𝟛𝕝𝕡! 𝕀'𝕞 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕜!”
>>> ...
>>> ...

>>> ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾…
>>> “𝕀𝕥'𝕤 𝕒 𝕨𝕚𝕫𝕒𝕣𝕕!”
>>> ...
>>> ...

Wait…

>>> ℙ𝕀ℕ𝔾…
>>> “𝕎𝕒𝕚𝕥...”
>>> ...
>>> “ℕ𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕕. 𝕀 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕫𝕒𝕣𝕕...”
>>> ...

𝕊𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕥 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕤

ℝ𝕖𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕞 ℤ𝕠𝕟𝕖, 𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕥𝕙 ℂ𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕊𝕡𝕣𝕒𝕨𝕝
𝔸𝕡𝕣𝕚𝕝 𝟙𝕤𝕥, 𝟘𝟞𝟝 𝟙𝟠:𝟚𝟘

_{@Atrophy@Sandy@Valor}

Delilah could only imagine the assault she had perhaps ‘accidentally’ enacted upon Citizen K’s interface of choice with her onslaught of pings. She could have sworn she actually hallucinated the sound of a tablet erupting with notifications, but then it faded away. The Wizard reached her, cornered her near the wall where he could hush his voice and save face as much as he could.

“You told me you were going to stay in ‘The Dungeon’ today. You know, when important folks who shouldn’t be seeing your face are around.”

“The Woman Cave grew stale and boring and out of snacks. I came to scalp information from the upper class.” Delilah posted up against the wall and crossed her arms. Surveying the crowd, she recognized that most of the conniving candidates were too busy with their bourgeois scheming to notice the invisible hacker. The invisibility thing got to her sometimes. She was invisible in the Labyrinth. It had to carry over at least somewhat here in reality. “And I changed the codeword. It’s the Woman Cave now.”

“The Pirates and Gatch have their own netrunners running their own games and surveillance operations here you know. You’ll want to watch for them, and maybe even get us some useful information that they leave vulnerable?”

“Speaking of Pirates, and boats, and information, one of Amalgamation’s barges is anchored 30 miles off the South City coast on the same latitude as the new land purchase—that dead sector. What’s that for?”

“You did what to Amalgamation info?” Oops, the hustler thought. That one was a bit too loud. Samsara pitched down to a near whisper for the next line. “Couldn’t you be a little more useful with your targets? There are unencrypted Labyrinth instances flooding this complex, and if you get me in trouble with Amalgamation, I will fire you. Fire you into space or something. We cannot mess with them—especially that project.”

Delilah felt the come-down approaching, she pulled the E-Drug soft from her neck and discarded it on the floor in plain sight of any onlookers. Turns out she had put it back in the box half-empty. A new low for sure. It would have been worse if Samsara hadn’t swooped down to palm the object away from view before anyone got to identify the cartridge. Delilah started off towards the snack table to find something to replace the incoming wave of bodily and emotional entropy. Already, dangerous levels of something 𝔽𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕖 negativity were threatening to take hold. If only she knew the prime wave of ℍ𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 was yet to hit. Bootleg homebrew cartridges were strange like that.

Just like the rest of the expanding universe, slowly losing heat…

It was all downhill from here…

“You never even hired me. I’m out here hustling, free-lancing. Amalgamation should be proud of me and give me more robot parts.” Once she secured the deck on her person with a shoulder strap, Delilah drummed her hands on the table, surveying her options of vastly superior food to what she was used to. Drinks too. She decided those came first, but she was second in line, after another woman who also by the looks of it needed to desperately drown her demons. “Besides— Gatch and his goons are too easy these days. I’m a ghost, Samsara. A spooky ghost.”

Delilah poured up her own concoction—vodka and… something blue. She thought it was an energy drink at first. The color was really all that mattered. It matched her hair, and half of her vision. Samsara either adjusted his glasses or rubbed his temples, taking a long breath—the kind that concealed an internal scream. He reached for his inner pocket and sought out his flask. Nothing. Another sigh. Or a growl. He stiff-armed Delilah, assaulting her until he felt the flask in her—no HIS—jacket pocket. Very strong brandy. It was classy, like him, he thought.

“I mean, fuck Gatch. Doesn’t the world have enough dirt on him?” Delilah was the one on the ‘too-loud’ side of the scale this time. She might have accidentally drawn some eyes. “Aren’t the Reclaim people done with him yet? I am. Send him my way. I’ll rip off his other arm. The flesh one.” She turned to the corporate-type sipping their own cocktail next to her. “Am I right?”

Samsara did another glasses-adjust//face-to-palm. He took a few steps back from Delilah, realizing the grenade he had run into all too drunk himself in the bar that fateful day and trying to distance himself from her. She wasn’t quite done, though. Delilah did a survey of the room, struggling a moment to discern faces in the filter of red and blue. It didn’t take her long to settle on a set of familiar eyes and old-school lumberjack hipster beard.

“Michael Faren! You and your hunter-gatherer cronies are probably in the market for discarded ripped-off flesh arms, right? I could have sworn that was what your campaign was about…”

Faren looked offended for the smallest microsecond. Then, he looked to his posse and did his absolute best to contain his laughter, eyes falling upon Samsara. “Is she—”

“Oh no… De—”

“Listen here, Michael!”

“Michael?” One of the NLP’s stylish gangers muttered from the crowd. Delilah furrowed her brow. She wasn’t deterred. Samsara had taken to standing as close to the wall as possible, his glasses almost bumping the decrepit brick. His flask was almost empty.

“How ever will Gatch deter your silly protest?” She gave her best attempt at a posh, ironic, mocking tone. It was almost indistinguishable from her usual demeanor. A number of the NLP cluster shot each other nervous glances, all eventually settling on Faren himself. “What ever could defeat a bunch of Anprims?” She looked around, calling to the crowd. “Does anyone have any preventable diseases on hand?”

“How does she…”

“Who—

“Are we…”

The air was, needless to say, dense with questions. Something was wrong, Delilah felt. The atmosphere of banter was suddenly replaced by a sort of tension. Maybe it was her bloodstream constricting, she thought. That was what it usually was.

“What?”

𝔽𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪: 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝔾𝕒𝕞𝕖 - Cyberpunk Political Intrigue Roleplay

Amelia "Glory" Batalia

G L O R Y
25 | Female | 6’2” | AB+

General Information

“I solemnly swear to devote my life and abilities...”

NAME: Amelia Batalia

ALIASES // TITLES: Glory. Chosen as part of an alias initiative to help protect the identity of security operators at Knight Enterprise.

SEX: Female

AGE: Twenty five.

APPEARANCE:

Image Reference

Amelia stands at a grand six feet and two inches tall, which is far above the normal average for females. This is one of the most obvious indicators that Amelia hit the genetic lottery. Amelia’s skin is a fair cream color, and is blemish free thanks to an intense self-care routine. Amelia’s short, bob cut hair is light brown and frequently a bit messy. Amelia’s eyes are green, and she was blessed with unerring 20/20 vision. However, her eyes typically appear pink due to the special contacts she wears on a regular basis.

Amelia’s overall body shape is toned and athletic, which is both mandated and maintained by her chosen career. Amelia’s bust is fairly generous, another example of how she hit the genetic lottery. For clothing, what Amelia wears depends on what she’s doing at the time, but the outfit she typically defaults to is a white shirt with a dark blue jacket with a yellow interior and yellow faux-fur collar lining. This dark blue jacket also has a layer of kevlar sewn into to provide Amelia with some additional protection. On the right shoulder of this jacket is a Knight Enterprise patch.

Amelia also keeps a pair of aviator style sunglasses propped up on her forehead, though she does have a case for them if needed. Amelia also has a pair of heavy-duty shooting gloves that she wears. The right glove is missing it’s index finger cover by design, and allows for the shooter to maintain all flexibility in their trigger finger so as to ensure maximum control and accuracy.

Amelia also wears a pair of denim hotpants with a brown leather belt. Hooked into this belt is a brown leather holster and tactical pouch combo. This holster is also bound to her right thigh by two additional straps and is supported by double band webbing wrapping around her waist. Amelia wears one stocking on her left leg, as when she tried wearing one on both legs it caused too many issues with the holster. Finally, Amelia wears a pair of heavy-duty work boots that have both steel-toe inserts and reinforced soles to give Amelia a firm grip on nearly any surface, even ones that are typically too slick for good contact.

OCCUPATION: Amelia’s current occupation is employment at a small security firm known as Knight Enterprise. They’re barely big enough to be on the map, but their overall lack of corruption and cheaper pricing means that they manage to score big contracts from time to time. Currently, Amelia is contracted out as general campaign security, meaning that she’s travelling to basically anywhere a speech or rally is being held to provide on-site security.

Psychological Profile

“For once in this business, my closet is clean.”

Honorable | Rigid | Reliable | By-the-Book | Punctual | Overzealous

PERSONAL GOAL: Amelia doesn’t really have a personal investment in the current election, but she is contracted out to provide security for the duration of it, so she is obligated to remain around and protect all speaking candidates, regardless of platform.

Outside of the campaign, Amelia has a desire to bust some of the members of the old gangs she fell in with. Most of the people there, at least as far as Amelia remembers, were just lost kids that couldn't get a job. However, high up on the ladder were some genuinely bad people, and Amelia wants to do her best to see them behind bars.

CAMPAIGN GOAL: Amelia wants to see the world improved and personally views The Central Party as the best party to do that, but doesn't support Joshua Gatch due to the fact that unemployment rose while he was mayor. Unfortunately, nobody else has garnered the support of the central party and Amelia has been left politically hamstrung because of it. Interestingly, despite her overall favoring of the central party's ideals, Amelia privately favors Chen Dao due to his outreach towards less-advantaged people with his augmentation monasteries.

However, Amelia is still publicly neutral and doesn't openly advocate for any one candidate as part of her security contract.

PERSONAL PHILOSOPHY: Amelia is a moral and upstanding person that generally doesn’t deal under the table. Unlike some of the stories that come out of The Enforcers, Amelia doesn’t take bribes and doesn’t like to deviate from standing orders unless it’s proven to be absolutely necessary. She also doesn’t like to gossip while on the job, and remembers that company secrets are, in fact, company secrets and not something to disclose on a regular basis.

POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY: Amelia’s political life is rather uninteresting, but she does generally support The Central Party since she views it as the least problematic of all the parties. She knows that it’s not perfect, but she likes the fact that it doesn’t seem to have an agenda that actively forces people to change their lifestyle. She doesn’t exactly approve of The Central Parties dealings with some of the more extreme megacorporations, but tells herself that hopefully, in the end, the government will “wash its hands” when the time comes.

SECRETS: When Amelia was a teen, she used to fall in with street gangs and various muscle groups because she grew up in a poorer area and it was difficult to find sustainable work. She didn’t quite do anything illegal herself, but the mere involvement with some of them would be grounds for a thorough interrogation, especially since Amelia now works in private security.

FEARS: Amelia’s greatest fear is losing her job in security, since it’s been one of the most stable jobs that she’s ever had and she had to work incredibly hard to earn the position. Aside from that, she does have the general fear that she’ll be caught up in a firefight and have her life ended by a single lucky shot, though she tries to remind herself that this is the risk she accepted when she chose to work in the field of security.

REPUTATION: How the world views Amelia is generally dependent on their own moral standing. People who like to operate lawfully generally consider Amelia to be a likable person that is an easy hire for most situations. Those who like to get their hands dirty typically try to avoid hiring Amelia, as her upstanding nature will typically cause them a headache since she’ll typically be at odds with their disregard for protocol.

LIKES:

List

Practicing her shooting.
Exercising.
Taking long showers.
Nice food, particularly burgers.
Sweets, in particular pocky.

DISLIKES:

List

Insects, especially insects in her apartment.
Having people in her personal space for longer than a minute.
Sour foods.
Having food expire.
Being covered in filth.

QUIRKS:

List.

Amelia carries around an excessive amount of ammo for her gun.

Amelia’s favorite phrase is “I would rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it”, which helps to explain why she carries so much ammo.

Amelia still has a teddy bear from when she was young. Thanks to modern materials it’s still durable, but Amelia likes to keep it hidden.

Amelia snores a little, but denies it.

Surprisingly, Amelia’s genetics are rather compatible with cybertechnology. If she were to get augmented, her body would take to it well.

Background Information

”The future is shaped by the past, but with enough defiance you can shrug off a bad start to something.”

Amelia’s background is fairly standard for someone growing up below the poverty line in the modern era. Her parents were poor, and thus she was also poor. Luckily for Amelia, she did have the advantage of winning the genetic lottery. Her physical capabilities, being above average, allowed her to excel in rapidly growing job fields like security. Since she didn’t have the money for a gym membership, Amelia honed her body by running and jumping around the slums of the reclaim zone that she grew up in, effectively teaching herself parkour as she went.

However, Amelia didn’t get into a security firm right away. They simply weren’t looking for new hires in her area, and so Amelia fell in with some local gangs and muscle groups. Amelia was kept rather low tier in the gangs, partially because she wasn't very good at actually delivering threats to people, and partially because the people in power wanted to keep as many people as downtrodden as possible in order to stay in power. However, Amelia's life with the gangs was shattered when she was told to intimidate a shopkeeper for protection money on her own. She was given a screwdriver and told to put it through their kneecap should they not have the money. Amelia bounced along happily, as this was just normal business to her and people usually coughed the money up pretty quickly. She was also eager to "prove herself" after having been near the bottom of the ladder for months.

When Amelia arrived at the shop, she picked the lock on the back door and snuck inside. There she found the owner, and her worldview shattered. The owner was old and withered, confined to a wheelchair with his legs mangled beyond repair. He glared at Amelia angrily before beginning to shout at her. "Oh, here to 'collect' again, are you?! Huh, punk?!" He began to wheel himself towards Amelia aggressively, and Amelia turned and ran, dropping the screwdriver as she went.

Confronted with the harsh reality of her gang work, Amelia's view shattered. She never went back to the "hub house" to report what had happened. She instead ducked into a random bar to hide. The gangs never really bothered with the bars, mainly because they were one of the few places in the slums that made enough money to afford security. Luckily for Amelia, there was a recruiting officer there that night. With nowhere else to go, Amelia begged for a job. Thankfully, he said yes.

Amelia's former comrades in crime never heard from her in person again, but a few news reports featuring her have riled them up. They're furious that she's "gone legit" and abandoned their operation. However, thanks to the alias initiative that Knight Enterprise put in place, they know little about her current whereabouts, and even then only a few remember her. However, those few have become powerful people within the gangs and might become a thorn in Amelia's side should they learn where she's working.

Amelia has been working for Knight Enterprise since she was twenty three, and was only recently assigned to the campaign trail after a college of hers developed a really nasty case of shingles and had to be submitted to a local hospital for treatment. Knight Enterprise was never one to leave a contract short staffed, and so Amelia was dispatched to fill in the gap.

Operative Information

“This is Glory, go ahead.”

AUGMENTATIONS: None currently.

EQUIPMENT:

Amelia’s equipment

Amelia’s gun: FuryTech “Grizzly” .50 AE handgun.

Image Reference

Grizzly is Amelia’s handgun and weapon of choice for security detail. It’s chambered for the beastly .50 Action Express cartridge, and holds seven rounds total per magazine. Amelia has chosen to specialize in this large caliber specifically because of the growing influence of dermal implant armor combined with standard body armor.

Amelia has also had her Grizzly modified with what is known as a “Smartgun System” that feeds weapon data to a pair of synced Augmented Reality (AR) supporting devices, be these cybereyes, glasses, goggles, or contacts lenses. Amelia’s smartgun features are slightly inferior compared to other smartguns because she uses a pair of contact lenses to sync up with her gun instead of the widely accepted cybereye implant. The most obvious aspect of the smartgun system is the camera it uses to gather information to feed its various assisting tools. On Amelia’s gun in specific, the recoil spring plug was replaced with a camera. Since this is in a very active part of the gun, the camera has specifically been heavily reinforced and all optional hardening upgrades have been added to it. Including the lens being made out of ballistic-rated materials that are virtually impossible to damage indirectly. So, essentially, Amelia doesn’t have to worry about the camera lens getting scratched up and her smartgun feeding her incorrect information, or that the recoil of her gun will break the internal parts of the camera.

In combat, Amelia’s smartgun features the following information displayed in a HUD or floating around the weapon depending on circumstance:

Distance to target.
Remaining ammunition.
Trajectory projection laser to assist with aiming. (Visible exclusively to Amelia’s AR contacts.)
Bullet drop/sway calculation, with the trajectory projection laser adjusted accordingly.
If the gun has the safety engaged or not.

When Amelia engaged maintenance mode on the smartgun system it instead gives her a different display of more technical data that can be used to check if the gun needs repairs, this includes information like heat buildup in the gun, material stress, and part wear. It also keeps track of the time between maintenance sessions and warns Amelia when the gun needs a routine disassembly and cleaning.

Amelia typically keeps one magazine loaded in her gun with a round in the chamber and the safety on, and carries no less than six additional magazines in her tactical pouches.

FuryTech “Smart” Contacts.

These contacts are what house the smartlink technology that’s linked to Amelia’s gun, as well as augmented reality (AR) technology. As a way of differentiating them from regular contacts, they’re colored pink. When worn, they color correct to eliminate the pink hue and then provide an unobstructive AR HUD. Features of this hud include:

Time.
Weather alerts.
Location of smartgun linked weapons.
Smartgun smartlink.
Light and glare correction.
GPS.

Sunglasses: Amelia’s aviator sunglasses aren’t anything special. She just likes wearing them for when it’s too bright for the smart contacts to correct entirely.

Handcuffs: Amelia has two pairs of well-made handcuffs should someone need serious detaining.

Radio: Amelia has a high end handheld transceiver, and it includes an earpiece for when Amelia needs her hands free.

Cellphone: Amelia carries a flip-phone styled cellphone. It lacks some of the functions of a more modern design, but since Amelia’s work-mandated programs can either use AR or don’t mandate a touchscreen, Amelia is able to get away with the older form factor.

SKILLS:

Marksmanship: Amelia is a good shot with her pistol, and can even manage good long-range shots due to the great power retention over distance that the powerful .50 AE rounds provide.

Close Combat Training: Given that Amelia’s primary weapon is a pistol, she’s also opted to train herself in hand to hand combat for defense in the event that someone manages to rush her at a bad moment. In specific, she’s been trained in a mix of boxing and wrestling.

Attention to detail: Amelia’s security training involved picking out minute differences between setups and paying careful attention to security cameras, and as such she’s capable of spotting small differences that would indicate something has been tampered with, and she’s good at watching a dozen security screens at once for suspicious activity.

Athletics: Amelia doesn’t skimp on her personal fitness, and has gotten some more official training on parkour ever since she joined Knight Enterprise. Amelia’s stamina allows her to run for approximately forty minutes without stopping.

FLAWS:

“Protocol dictates…”: Amelia is extremely strict about protocol. This is a bit of a double edged sword in that while it makes her look good to her superiors, it means that it also takes her a long time to accomplish some things that could be accomplished much quicker by some others. As an example: sending all evidence off for testing and letting the “thinkers” at Knight Enterprise get it correct instead of risking getting something wrong. Meanwhile, the person responsible has already managed to get out of the scene and is well on their way to a safehouse.

Structurally dependant: Amelia is highly dependant on having a good chain of command, clear orders, and consistent communication with the other members of the security detail. Should she be forced to improvise without any kind of commanding officer, her ability to effectively respond to a situation will be extensively hindered.

Rigidity: Amelia has been given extensive scenario training, and unfortunately it’s been effective at drilling specific situations into her without room for adaptation. Amelia will frequently be quick to come up with a plan, but her plans are almost always the same and simple pattern recognition will allow people to interpret what she’ll do next with ease.

Overzealousness: Amelia is frequently keen to see something through to completion, even if it’s something small that really doesn’t need to be figured out. Thus, her time is easily consumed by menial work, like filling out situation reports. When Amelia dedicates herself to a task she works until it’s done, frequently at the expense of getting anything else done.

NOTES:

Amelia’s personal vehicle is an Engitech Mirage motorcycle.

Knight Enterprise is a medium-level security agency that has the resources to branch out an open another office in another megaregion. However, due to a lack of locations to expand to without serious competition in a rapidly saturating market, Knight Enterprise has decided to keep it's strength collected in the reclaim zone.

The gangs and muscle groups the Amelia used to be a part of have, in the years that she's been away from them, fused into a collective known as the "Reavers of the Lost and the Damned." On the surface, they frequently tout that they provide opportunities for people who aren't taken in by places like Knight Enterprise and other growing job markets, but within the group there exists a "high table" of extremely influential people that use The Reavers as their personal army. Unfortunately, a few of the people who still hold a grudge against Amelia for leaving them and joining Knight Enterprise have seats at the high table. Latest reports put the number of associates at about one-hundred.

Amelia’s relations with others.

Character name	Relationship
The Flux Shaman	”Them? Uh… To be honest, I only know what we’ve got on file about them, and to be even more honest their file is about as large as a kitchen napkin. Seriously, it’s like three paragraphs. They’ve hit the Knight Enterprise servers a few times, probably doing some kind of job, but outside of that I don’t really do too much computer stuff. The tech guys groan every time they find any evidence that they’ve been around, though.”
Stella Solomon	”Stella’s a pretty nice bartender. I’ve seen her a few times, and her drinks are top-notch. She sure does like her gossip though, and I’ve also heard of a few idiots getting chewed out the next morning for being a little too friendly with Stella from time to time. Put a few glasses of hard liquor in them and they like to forget that complaining about the “massive amount of patrol duty” they’re doing is a company secret.”
Citizen K	”Citizen K… You know how I said that The Flux Shaman’s file is a napkin big? Well, Citizen K is a bit bigger than that, but it’s all filled with hearsay. We know that they were involved in a mixed bag of gang activity and black-hat cybercrime, but at the same time we have nothing that we can actually pin on them. So Citizen K’s file fits on two napkins. Not one.”
Johnny Lovecraft	”Okay, so this one doesn’t fit on a napkin. And we get a name that sounds like it belongs to a human! Johnny here is your pretty standard modern merc: Little regard for the law, no goals outside of more money and more power, and previously a part of the scrapteam. The main concern is that someone beat out Gatch on hiring him. At the very least, he isn’t augmented. Can you imagine the amount of hell someone could raise with ambitions like that if they were augmented? Nasty stuff.”
Lott Ramana	”Who? … Oh! Her! Green earrings! Yes I remember now. She seems pretty nice, and she appears to know Stella pretty well. I haven’t had the chance to interact with her too much but I don’t think that I’d have anything to dislike about her. ...Well, maybe one thing. Her karaoke could… Use just a little bit of work. Just a little! Okay, maybe more than a little… But it’s workable!”

Updated, revised, and re-revised. Now with relations!

@Valor

You're good to move to the character tab. Let me know in the discord how you plan to put Amelia into the current scenes so I can plan accordingly.

---

Gonna try and summarize what's going on throughout the group. Please let me know if I got something wrong so I can correct myself and prepare and such.

Current plan is to put up a Delilah post within the coming days, then soon after I'll be advancing the scene for Kay, Johnny, and Delilah, so they can continue to interact. Bork is working through his post to advance scene 2, after which Stella and he can get on with wrecking things. Atrophy and Sandy are gonna collab outside on Swathe Street. Firecracker and Whale are preparing to interact in Central Square as well. I think that's everything. Work hard—for the sake of Cyberpunk.