Recent content by Lizaveta Isakova

Lizaveta shut her eyes briefly. Covering up an eyeroll? Enjoying the music? Showing off her perfectly-applied eyeshadow? It could have been anything, really. An elegant thumb and forefinger pinched the bridge of her nose momentarily before she took a breath and sat up straighter, lowering her...

The ex-ballerina waved the smoke away like Moses parting the Red Sea so she could look at the badge clearly. "Using you?" she echoed, her eyebrows lifting over her cool blue eyes. Her voice betrayed equal parts surprise and mirth. "I shouldn't be surprised that you'd view it just that way, in...

Lizaveta let a confidential smirk build over her lips. "The gentlemen and Moscow and I have an understanding," she told Dmitri quietly. At some subtle, unspoken question as to whether he could smoke, Lizka -- ever a gracious hostess, of course -- made a reciprocal motion basically begging him...

Lizaveta reclined ever-so-slightly against the faux-velvet banquette, allowing the high, channeled back to cradle her delicate form. She put a cigarette between her lips and lit up, allowing the glow to illuminate her face briefly as she took a drag, then drew it out, blowing smoke in the other...

Lizka let the little barb about what her post-bathing habits were pass, though she did offer the officer an enigmatic smile in response as she took a sip of her drink. She had expected the officer to discover her little ploy sooner or later. He was a bright, intelligent fellow, so perhaps that...

Lizaveta watched the proceedings; she had to admit that it seemed to be rather well-choreographed. And she would know, wouldn't she? The dancer took the bottle, examined it impassively for a moment, then shrugged. At first she turned to carry it over to the bar, but then stopped. Fixing him with...

Jazz wasn't really her thing, but music -- real music, not noise being spit out by fucking robots -- was a rarity in the hellscape that made up Night City, so she had to take it where she could. There was something about it, so unordered as to be almost unmusical, that she couldn't quite bring...

Lizaveta inclined her head, a movement that accentuated the swanlike grace of her neck, and she rolled her head this way and that, working out some tension there. "The information I have is not terribly in depth," she said apologetically. "Thorncroft is -- if you'll pardon the expression -- a...

The woman who approached didn't look like a prostitute, and while she had been prepared for that -- to an extent -- she was actually surprised at how little she looked like a prostitute. She wore a designer dress like she had been born to do it. Better than Lizaveta herself, who had been born...

Lizaveta stood on the sidewalk, watching impassively and smoking a cigarette as she watched the cars drive hither and thither on the streets of Night City. She was waiting for her second contact, and for Delamain. There was much on the woman's mind, not least of which the gig she was about to...

Lizka opened the door to look out at the three men in the hallway outside her apartment. Her grey-blue eyes scanned the men, immediately clocking the associate as Antonov's bodyguards -- or at least henchmen of some extraction. That had been a lesson from Grigori. People with neck tattoos are...

Gig Name: Back in the USSR Type of Gig: Infiltration, Hacking Client: Connected Russian(s) Details: "The gig is straightforward, and successful completion of it (with utmost discretion) is a pathway to additional work. Need you to get into the Soviet consulate in Night City and get to their data...

A throbbing pang in her knee made Lizaveta flinch, and she extended her leg on the chaise where she had perched. She set aside her datapad for a moment to gently massage at her knee; the scars from her surgery were small and almost imperceptible by eye, but Lizaveta's fingers traced their...

"Returning to Russia would be suicide," she sniffed. "Even if no one knows what really happened to Grigori, they will assume I know enough to be dangerous." She didn't add: and they'd be right. Some things could still be managed with finesse, after all. "There is his business to attend to. The...

Lizaveta shut her eyes, squeezing her eyelids tightly. "It is annoying that your type -- not you, since I don't know you, but your type -- cares more about Grigori's crimes now that he is dead than they ever did when he was alive. If I had come to a police officer on the street and said my...