ART & CODE Amadis's Code Box'o'trouble n Tricks.
- Thread starter Amadis
- Start date
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Name: Lukas Kade
Alias/Handle: Ghost
Age: 21
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Birthplace: Iron Divide, Santo Domingo, Night City
Appearance:
Standing at 6'1", Lukas has a rugged, athletic, and toned build. His short, dark brown hair is usually shaved to a fade. His amber eyes show minor Kiroshi optical upgrades, with a basic UI that can sometimes be glimpsed over the iris. He wears a worn black synth-leather jacket, reinforced boots, street-tier utility pants, and black fingerless gloves—dressed like thousands around him, blending in effortlessly.
Background:
Family Ranking: Urban Streetkid
Parents: One missing, one dead. Grew up with scattered mentors and street contacts.
Childhood Environment: Raised in the worker towers of Iron Divide, surrounded by factory workers, low-pay corpos, unions, and gang influences. Lukas learned early that survival meant thinking fast and knowing who to trust—or better, just getting out alive.
Personality:
Friendly and supportive. Independent and a bit of a gambler, sometimes making enemies as a result. Reliable on gigs, but not reckless. Prefers the little guy on the street—he's no anarchist, but he gets on with rebels just fine. Part action junkie, part survivor, he thrives on the chaos but knows there's always fallout.
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Skills:
• Handguns and small arms
• Driving
• Parkour
• Lockpicking
• Streetwise
Languages:
English, Spanish, Japanese, and Gridspeak
Cyberware:
• Neuroport (Standard) HL: 0
• Kiroshi Optics (Basic) HL: -2
• Shock Hand HL: -1
• Neural Scrambler: Ghost Module HL: -4 (Soon tm)
Ghost Module: Masks the user's biosignature, ID-tags, and radio frequency emissions from standard trackers. Interferes with netrunner pings but doesn't block deeper system scans. Expensive, needs periodic recalibration, and can be disabled by EMPs or shocks.
Empathy & Humanity:
Empathy: 8 – Mostly human, but cyberware is creeping in.
Humanity: 89 – Good-natured despite his upbringing and work. Limited cyberware due to lack of eddies.
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Gear & Style:
• Weapons: SMG: Militech M221 Saratoga with Subdermal Grip, Backup Pistol: Militech M-10AF Lexington
• Gadgets: Two MaxDocs in case of emergencies.
• Outfit: Grey t-shirt, black synth-leather jacket, reinforced combat boots, fingerless gloves, and urban camo pants. Harder to remember in a crowd.
Assets:
• None Yet
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Story to Date:
Born in the high-rise ruins of Iron Divide: IRZ-02, a failed industrial project left bleeding by corpo corruption, Lukas grew up watching friends fall into gang life, corpo work, or factory jobs. Some moved on. Some didn't make it. He went his own way, mentored by a biker named Lefty. His first merc job at 17 went sideways, walking into a Maelstrom ambush instead of a 6th Street stash house. Quick thinking got him out alive, but he learned two lessons—trust no one, and always get intel first. Now he's carving out a name, taking gigs that build rep, pay well, or just keep him alive another day.
Roleplayed Threads:
• [OPEN]
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Starter Post:
At the edges of Santo Domingo, the Iron Divide's skyline stretched high—not the glittering towers of downtown, but cold, rusted shells of a post-industrial wasteland. Some parts still churned out profit off the backs of the desperate. The rest? A ruin housing those same backs.
Neon flickered above, a ghost of corpo ambition clinging to relevance. Rainwater barely had time to settle before it was filtered, drained, or stolen. In other districts, trash piled up. Here, everything had a use—efficiency born from necessity.
The gig was simple: infiltrate a factory-turned-cooperative. The workers had stumbled onto something big—rare chrome worth a fortune. The corpos wanted it erased. Lukas didn't like the job, but better him than some overclocked psycho. Get in, get out, minimize casualties.
Only it was never easy.
The fixer's intel was off. Maelstrom had already hit the place. Workers lay dead against rusted machines, a dream turned nightmare.
Ghost exhaled, checking the mag on his Saratoga. Another night, another risk.
And Maelstrom still had something worth taking.
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Name: Adrian 'Ledger ' Parker
Alias/Handle: Ledger
Age: 21
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Birthplace: Iron Divide, Santo Domingo, Night City
Appearance:
Standing at 5'10", Adrian is lean, with a clean-cut look as you'd expect from a corpo. His blond hair is kept short and slicked back. Pale blue Kiroshi optics gleam under office and street light, always scanning to calculate risk. He wears a well-tailored midnight-blue corpo suit, stylish but not expensive enough to be extravagant, paired with smart shoes and a silver wrist-holo displaying market data and local news stories.
Background:
Family Ranking: Low-Tier Corpo
Parents: His father is a mid-level insurance exec and his mother a data analyst of some ability.
Childhood Environment: Raised in Tower-5, one of the better blocks of the Iron Divide—corporate housing, not luxury-tier but comfortable. Most of what he needed was in one well-protected centralized space. He was educated for a corpo life, but the realities of Night City's economy often strain his sensibility the more he interacts with it.
Personality:
Calm, analytical, and outwardly composed, Adrian is a risk assessor by trade and by instinct. He sees the world in numbers, hard odds, and simple probabilities of success or failure. Always weighing costs and benefits before acting. Under the corporate mask, there's a man who still wants to believe in fairness and doesn't like denying a claim that could save someone's life. He doesn't rebel outright, there's no profit in it, but he's looking for an angle, a way to turn the system to his advantage without getting crushed by it.
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Skills:
• Risk Assessment and Financial Forecasting
• Negotiation and Persuasion
• Hacking: Specialties in Financial Investigations, Identity Confirmations, Anti-Fraud Measures.
• Handguns
• Bureaucratic protocol and etiquette. Well trained in the details.
Languages:
English, Japanese, Mandarin, and Corporate Jargon
Cyberware:
• Neuroport (Corporate Standard) HL: -1
• Kiroshi Optics (Advanced) HL: -3
• Subdermal Armor (Basic) HL: -4
• Vocal Modulator (Advanced) HL: -2 Subtle tone manipulation, assists with negotiations
Empathy & Humanity:
Empathy: 8 – Every denied claim chips away at his conscience.
Humanity: 87 – The system is starting to wear him down, and he has some upgrades.
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Gear & Style:
• Weapons: Arasaka Tamayura
• Gadgets: Corporate-grade holo-tablet, encrypted corpo-grade personal comms, forged ID chips for alternate clients.
• Outfit: Usually a midnight-blue corporate suit, a white synth-silk shirt, polished smart shoes, and a silver wrist-holo with biometric security.
Assets:
• A clean, well-furnished medium-sized corpo apartment in an Iron Divide high-rise.
• Connections in the insurance and financial sectors.
• A hidden private account where he sends some of his money.
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Story to Date:
Living in Block-5, Adrian Parker was born in a better block of Iron Divide, where corpos weren't rich but had security, most of what they needed to hand, and options for advancement. His father, Aarlon, is an experienced insurance executive and led him into the same field, teaching him that in Night City fairness is just a selling point. By 18, he was a junior agent at Petrovski Solutions, an insurance firm with a firm grip on vehicle, housing, personal, and cyberware insurance coverage in Santo Domingo. His mother gave him a software side, she was still mathematically gifted but tried to spend time looking beyond the data she worked with each day, to touch grass with the world outside.
Early on, he knew that the system was rigged against people—offering policies designed to drain eddies while paying little back. At first, he played their game exactly as the rules said. But after denying a few claims that left families bankrupt or maimed without cyberware replacements, it took its toll.
Adrian is searching for something, and he doesn't know what. He still plays the corpo role, keeps his numbers high, and his head down. But behind the scenes, he's gathering intel, skimming for a side fund, and mapping a route to a future where he's more in control of how things run. But when it comes to it, will he step out to stand tall or retire to luxury?
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Starter Post:
Adrian's desk terminal buzzed—a Trauma Team incident with a low-priority client. Failed to maintain his policy obligation, meaning the last payment lapsed just twenty minutes before he needed it. Financial glitch, probably in the processing, but it meant a death sentence for the poor sob.
Adrian sighed and rubbed his temple. Ready to flag another claim denied. Fifty to a hundred thousand eddies saved at least, and probably a nod from his supervisor at dinner. Everything rewarded efficiency, and being on time with the calls kept you in the good books.
"Close it, Parker, policy's policy." Through his headset, his supervisor noticed his hesitation, finger over the keys. Just another name in a file, but for once, he didn't. Ledger minimized his screen, opening an encrypted line and flagged the data to an anonymous server. Maybe there was someone out there that could do something, either way, they didn't have long. You didn't call a trauma team unless it was serious.
He took off his headset and turned his chair to look out the window. Some days, it was difficult to look at your reflection. His optics focused further out at the Iron Divide below—past the gardens, past the corporate towers, and toward the ruined shells the other half lived in.