Recent content by Ryan Graves

Ryan caught the crunch of boots and lifted his chin toward the sound, smirking as Sammy pulled up and flipped his visor. "You the guy?" Ryan queried, voice gravel-cut. His optics flashed half-assed translated words as @The Watchman greeted him. "Name's Ryan, you have a familiar face, Sammy...

The desert wind caught the loose hem of Ryan's jacket as he stood with one boot propped against the shattered curb outside Room 6, the last sliver of his cigarette embering out between his fingers. He flicked it down, crushed it underfoot, and exhaled—calm, steady. The kind of breath a man takes...

Watson District — NCPD Lockdown Zone Outside a half-dead noodle bar, southeast alley behind Kabuki Market The sharp click of a lighter flared briefly in the dark, casting a flicker of red-orange glow over Ryan Graves' face before the flame died and the cigarette nestled between his lips began...

Name: @Ryan Graves Reason: Bank Heist & Laundering Loot Thread Title: See Below Money Earned: 200,000 eb Links to Threads: Calling All Cars Major Crimes Do Me A Favor Staff Approved: @Nefadar

Name: @Ryan Graves Reason: Monthly Income - Street Ronin (Solo) Thread Title: N/A Money Earned: 2000 eb Link to Thread: N/A Staff Approved: @Nefadar

Welcome to the site!

Ryan smirked around the cigarette, exhaling a slow stream of smoke as he slapped the money shards into Bella's waiting palm. "Mostly legit." he cocked a coy grin, "Maybe a little fireworks." He leaned back against the worktable, arms crossing as he watched her inspect the payout. Even through...

The streets of Heywood pulsed with their usual nocturnal rhythm, lowriders creeping past, neon saints reflecting off polished chrome, and the murmur of street deals being made in dark corners. Ryan knew this part of town better than most, hell, he grew up here. Cutting through alleyways and side...

Ryan pulled up outside Red Dirt on his Yaiba Kusanagi CT-3X, the sleek bike purring like a beast beneath the neon-lit sky. The bar’s exterior glowed with a deep, rugged red hue. As he dismounted, he discarded his cigarette butt and straightened his red jacket. Stepping through the door, Ryan’s...

Glass shattered, neon lights flickered, and the bass-heavy pulse of the club drowned beneath the roar of gunfire and screams. Ryan stood with a knife in hand, the ganger beneath him sputtering, having collapsed onto the ground with spray of crimson painting the floor. Redline’s knuckles were...

Ryan kept his eyes on the road, knuckles tight around the Emperor’s worn steering wheel. The city lights faded behind them, replaced by the industrial husks of Rancho Coronado’s half built megastructures and forgotten factories looming like skeletons in the night. The Emperor’s engine growled...

“The Loft” Redline Crew Hideaway Heywood, Night City Ryan leaned back against the worn wooden table in the clubhouse, arms crossed, eyes locked on the small pile of money shards stacked between him and Beau. The red underglow lighting bathed the scene in a warm, almost sinister hue...

Ryan leaned back slightly, letting the cigarette smolder between his fingers as he listened. The Parlor's glow pulsed against the glass and chrome, casting long, shifting shadows across the room. The whole place smelled of aged whiskey, synth-smoke, and expensive cologne, the kind of joint where...

Ryan didn't answer right away, too busy ripping out the steering column's casing with practiced efficiency. Wires spilled out like exposed veins, a tangled mess of outdated security that barely slowed him down. His hands were steady despite the aftershock of adrenaline still buzzing through his...

Ryan sat there, stretching his freshly tuned cybernetic palm. Smooth. Efficient. Anders did good work, always did. But that didn’t mean Ryan had to like the lecture that came with it. He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah, well, poetry doesn’t pay the bills. And neither...