1) What's your heritage?
Well now, that’s kind of a hard one to answer? I mean, what does that really mean now a days? Where you come from? Where you were born? Your parents? Their parents? I mean, from what my dad told me, his dad came from a place that doesn’t even really exist now. With borders and identities swapping around so fast, it’s kinda hard to keep track, don’t ya think? Originally, I’m from Boston, but my folks were from Ireland. Yea, not the Tir, Ireland. At least, that’s what my dad used to say. He doesn’t look too kindly on the daisy eaters, and he’s got his reasons to. When someone steals away your country and makes you a second class citizen, it has a tendency to piss you off. Yea, I know, I don’t look too Irish and my name doesn’t start with a O’ or a Mac. Get over it.

2) What would your parents say about you?
A few years ago, they would have probably said they were proud. Their son was sort of serving their “country” honourable, he was making a decent wage and was mostly honest. When I got married to Estrella, they weren’t all that happy. They would have preferred someone who didn’t come from Aztlan, but at least, she wasn’t an elf. My parents were glad enough when they started to get grandkids out of the deal, but when mom died, dad got real grumpy and shut in. Now, he doesn’t say much, and that’s mainly on the account he’s suffered a major stroke four years ago. He can’t do much by himself now expect look pissed; especially since I don’t let him drink. I guess now he would say I’m an ungrateful asshole who pissed away the family name by marrying some burritos munching brown skank. I guess you can’t make everyone happy, can you.

3) What historical events does your character remember?
Well, the 68 election, with President Colloton was a pretty big deal, at least for me. First time I voted for someone who actually made it into office. That and the fact I felt proud as hell she was UCAS Military. Yea, I know, it didn’t exactly serve with her, or even close to, but still. She’s kind of one of us, so that made me feel real good. I still got a bunch of pins and buttons in a box in the garage.
There’s also 2064. Now that was majorly fucked up. Crash 2.0 and my last year in the 82nd Airborn. With Martial Law going on, I actually had boots on the ground in DC. First time in the capital if you can believe that. I’m telling you, soldiers should never be used as police; we ain’t trained for that. That shit keeps me up at night. It’s also the year dad had his stroke and being a grunt simply didn’t work anymore. I mean, I was 26, I already had two kids and a third was on the way. My dad couldn’t take care of himself anymore, and even is Estrella worked full time, we were in the shit. Neck deep. Plus, they weren’t about to promote some grunt ork like myself. Heck, with my pretty mug, the humans don’t like me, the orks don’t like me and I hate elves. So yea... fun. Like I said, 2064 was a pretty damn big year for me.


4) How did you get into shadowrunning, and why?
By 2065, I had moved to Seattle to work construction with my uncle, from my mom’s side. He always needed big guys, and that’s sort of where I fall into. Plus, I had taken some welding courses in the army, which I figured I could put to use. The money wasn’t too bad, but it wasn’t near enough. So I started doing muscle work. I’d be working the day breathing in cement dust, and at night, I’d work the door at some fancy clubs. They liked me, those nightclub people. I look good in a suit, and I’m usually twice as pretty as those trolls they usually hire. During the summer, I even worked security at shows and events, which wasn’t too bad either. I got to work outdoors. The music festivals were the best, except when you got puked on. After a while, doing security work just paid better than construction, so I left that. Estrella was pissed, and I understand. You see, my woman, she worries. Can’t blame her. But the kids kept growing up, the bills kept pilling up, and the nuyens weren’t coming fast enough. So, after a while, I stopped looking too hard at who was footing the bill. Now a days, I don’t even want to know who’s paying.

5) What is your living space like?
Honestly? It’s fragging cramped! Even thought we got a decent house in Renton, even with the garage, the place is packed and overflowing with stuff. There’s my wife, Estrella, my dad (who’s in a wheelchair by now) and our three kids: Rosalinda (15), Gustavo (12) and Tomas (9). Can you guess who picked the names? I really don’t mind, frankly. I love my kids. We’ve got a semi decent backyard, with dying grass and everything. Tomas still loves it, especially during the summer, but my two oldest, they’re getting too “grown up” to have fun outside. Rosalinda has her own room, and the two boys bunk together. Hopefully, when I net enough cred, I’ll be able to move my dad into a home and free up his room. Somehow, I can’t see us living like this for much longer. Still, I keep the garage off limit: it’s my space, and the lock of the door is usually enough to keep the kids out. Last time Gustavo snuck in, I gave him such a back hand he didn’t talk to me for a week. At least now, he knows it’s off limit. I don’t like it, but I’d rather not having my kids play where I keep a crate of grenades. Even if it’s under lock and key.

6) What are your beliefs / convictions (if any) and why do you hold them?
This is going to sound really damn ridiculous considering the line of work I do but I try to be as honest as I can. Sure, I’ll lie to cover my ass and my team, and to protect my family, but I try real hard not to be an asshole on a daily basis. I just try to be direct and up front with people, as much as I can. I got little time for bullshit, and as far as I know, more people have died because of someone else’s bullshit more than anything else. Maybe it’s because of the army, but I really think that loyalty is important: you gotta stick by your people no matter what. I mean, in the thick of it, all you’ve really got in the world is the people around you. Conviction wise, I guess you could say I’m convinced most elves are fragging slitch. I’m probably biased because of everything my parents told me, but up till now, no one has proved me completely wrong. They talk a lot of wind and usually seem to think way too highly of themselves.

7) what do you think is your most annoying / worst trait?
My wife says I’m real stubborn, and I think I’d have to agree with her. I think I’m just hard working, but I can admit sometimes I can be hard to deal with when my mind is set on something. Hell, that’s how I eventually convinced Estrella to marry me in the first, so who can blame me!

8 ) What megacorp do you like the most? the Least? Why?
That’s a hard one also. I really like Ares. I mean, generally, they don’t seem to ooze too much bullshit, and they make solid product: real American stuff. I mean, most of the stuff I use both at work and at home is made by Ares... But I have to admit I’m also something of an Horizon fan. We finally got hooked up with their trid sports and movies package last month and hell! I could just sit at home and watch the trid all day and be happy.
Now, the least? SK. Definitly the Dragon corp. Why? I dunno, most germans I’ve met were dicks. Plus, I don’t trust a company that mostly run by a giant lizard. I know, it’s not very reasonable. Blow me.

9) How did you come to know your contacts?
Jerry and I did not only our Basic together, but we also spent our entire time in the airborn stuck in the same squad. I mean, I like Jerry, he’s a good solid guy. For a while, I guess you could say he was my friend. When I left the army, we sorta drifted apart, like people do. Recently thought, he got transferred to a comfy desk job, here in Seattle. He works supply for the Metroplex Guard, pushing paper and numbers around. From what he says, he’s pretty good at his job. I don’t doubt it, mostly because last year, for my birthday, he gave me an Ares Alpha. He said technically that I had already paid for it with my tax dollars, so I should feel too bad.

10) What do you do on a day off?
Like those happen! Right. Well, on the rare occasion I do have a day off, I try to do nothing at all. I sit in the backyard, I barbecue, I give a ton of money to a babysitter and I take my wife out.

11) How did you come to learn your skills at your present proficiency?
I’d have to say everything comes courtesy of the UCAS Army, although what little Spanish I know I picked up from Estrella yelling at me.

12) Are there any moral limits on what jobs you take or things you'll do?
Jobs with a lot of collateral damage make me cringe. And by that, I don’t mean propriety damage. I just... well... I don’t particularly enjoy having a ton of deaths on my conscience. Yea, I know, I’ve probably killed two dozen people who didn’t really deserve it but still... Call me crazy, call me hypocrite, but I still make a distinction between civilians and OPFOR. Oh yea; no kids. I don’t fragging care how big the pay is, I don’t do kids. That’s just fragged up.

13) How do you view magic / technomantic abilities?
Why the hell not, I guess. I don’t understand it. I don’t even pretend I do, but if it works, why not use it?

14) How do you view augmentation / implantation?
Necessary. I know I’m not the smartest or sharpest guy on the block, and I need every little damn edge I can take to make it back home. So I’ll take what I can, and as much of it as I can. If that means I have to become a toaster to provide for my family, so be it.

15) What do you think of ordinary life and those who live it?
I wish like hell I could have that, but I don’t give myself any illusion. Maybe when I’m wise and old, I’ll be able to kick my feet up and grab a cold beer. Now that would be nice.

16) What would be a bad nightmare for you? Any deep-rooted fears? Why is it so frightening to you?
I’d say... something happening to my family. I know the risk comes with the job, but I could never stomach something I did coming back to hurt my family. Actually, now that I think about it, I would be crushed if one of my kids turned out like I did. Thank God, they all have their mother’s look and brain, so they’ll have a lot more opportunities that I did.

17) What is your 'sacred object' or 'close one', and how did they become so important to you?


18) What did you want to become as a child, and what are your goals now?
I have no idea what I wanted to become when I was a child. I guess I wanted to be like my dad: big, strong, smart. I guess I did turn out like my dad. I’m big. I’m strong, and I’m probably as smart as he was. I guess perspectives count for a lot when you’re a kid.
Right now, I need to get enough money to get professional care for my dad. He can’t live like this. And the house is getting... well... small. The kids are growing up and I know it ain’t exactly tomorrow, but I’ll be damn if they can’t go to college when the time comes.

19) What does your character look like, and what inspired her choices?
George Earnest is basically built like a professional football player. He’s tall, broad shouldered and has a certain sway in his steps. Beside the large and low forehead, it would actually be hard to call George an ork, even though he’s most definitely one. He smiles easily and is generally an easy going guy. He’s recently started cutting his hair really short, mainly to hide the fact he’s already beginning to get bald.

20) How did you get your street name?

It was a night to be on the prowl, Breaker slammed the westwind 3000 into low gear, on the virtual edge of flight as he passed the bimbo box sedan to his right. Rigging and being a part of the vehicle is great, but some times you have to feel the accelerator under your foot, the smell of synthetic leather off the steering wheel's cover, and hear the pure of a real gasoline engine. This piece of art was far to delicate to enjoy from the virtual world. Even without being plugged in Breaker hugged every turn, and avoided every bump with expert precision, trade mark of some of the ware he had taken the liberty to have installed.
He brought the sleek sports car to a squealing halt in front of the Blacklady night club, named after the ebony statue that was it's centerpiece. Every head looked his way when Breaker exited the Lamborghini style door with his usual wide grin on his face. He tossed the Valet the keys commenting on how he just had the body work finished when he looked to the door to see Grinder the tough ass ork bouncer eyeing him with a knowing glance. Breaker raised his hand for an awkward fist bump when he saw him. David Price, storming furiously at Breaker and the borrowed Westwind.
Leaving George hanging Breaker almost knocked the scrawny valet over trying to get the keys back. The Westwind would be back in the body shop, and no one would be the wiser. A perfect plan.

Csilla ran over the details of the meet again through the link in his goggles, checking and double-checking the information, simultaneously tapping in addresses and planning his route between the gated community and the meet point. It was a simple enough job; Point A to Point B, through unfamiliar - and dangerous - territory. He'd mapped out most of the area of Bellevue, through experience and reviewing recorded footage of his parkour; getting to the meet point wouldn't be an issue. Getting through Redmond, however...

Down, Cat whispered in his ear. The dwarf slid down immediately at that feline voice hissing inside his mind, depositing his body further behind the well-manicured bush. The urban explorer suit clung tightly to his slim frame, creaking softly against his flesh in the night, the black latex whispering its stress. The moon glittered low in the sky, rising towards its azuth, casting the garden even further into shadow; but had it not been for the dark suit, the large bush and his small frame, the CorpSec guard policing the grounds of the community would have seen him as a maglight flashed in his direction. The CorpSec, a knife-ear in armored bodysuit, frowned and peered towards the bush the dwarf was concealed within. Shaking his head, he turned away, muttering to himself. "Thought I saw something... these night shifts are really fragging me off."

Csilla waited until the sounds of the CorpSec goon faded and all that was left were the sounds of the night; engines humming along streets beyond, the faint noises of chittering insects, the steady thump-thump-thump of... Csilla's cheeks reddened as he looked up at the building behind him, noting the light gleaming through the solid window. Well, at least that detail having gone unnoticed wouldn't frag him; the inhabitants were far too busy. He knew them; knew everyone in the community, and they knew him. Had they opened that window and looked out, the crimson-and-blonde hair would have been a dead giveaway. Better to move while they were preoccupied. Pulling the gloves on, tightening their wrist-straps, drawing the form-fitting armored hood over his head and resecuring his goggles over the opening for his eyes. A quick look to make sure the coast was clear; then out from the bush, leaping to the wall, over the fence, trusting in Kane's hacking skills to have disabled the sensors over this miniscule bit of gate.

His feet hit the ground on the other side of the wall, and he was off, a map on the corner of his goggles showing his location and that of the meet. Full speed, no hesitation; all care melted away in the burn of muscle, the heat of breath blowing back against his cheeks from the hood, the city blurring around him as his vision tunneled to what was just before him, his thoughts only on clearing this obstacle then looking for the next. Csilla was left behind, the good Corporate dwarf; Paws-in-Shadows moved over, through, or under all that in his path, lost in the night, Cat whispering in his ear.



A bullet sparked off the dilapadated building in front of him; his limbs ached, his lungs burning for air as he skidded, faceplanting against the building's side, hands up at shoulder-height to keep his weight from carrying him into it. Twisting, back against the wall, glancing down the alley; and in the edge of his vision, the ork gangers who wanted him. Well, not him; the package dangling from his belt, secured with four nylon straps surrounding its oblong edges, bouncing against his thigh. He should never have tried to go through at the ground level; better to be late than to be shot. Pushing from the wall, he darted down the alley, leaping towards the chainlink fence at the end; small fingers caught the top, booted feet hooked into the holes in the links, propelling him over. Hitting the ground running, he scrolled the map, looking for ways out, but the Redmonds were perhaps the worst-mapped part of the city. All up to his senses now.

There; the sound of chainlink shattering, the roar of an engine behind him, automatic fire sparking across the buildings surrounding him. One round caught him in the back of the hip, but the armor plating of the jumpsuit kept it from doing anything other than bruising. The Roadmaster behind had a massive ork that looked closer to a Troll on the reinforced mount, belt-fed heavy machine gun spitting bullets. But Paws had his out; parking garage, there on the left. He faked two steps to the right, heard the whine of the machine gun change as its angle went to cut him off, and then bolted left, leaping atop a junked car roof, then onto the stone wall surrounding the garage. Momentum carrying him forward, pushing off the wall, leaping as hard as he could from the wall. His chest impacted the side of the garage, his arms scrabbling for purchase on the concrete floor. Too smooth; drek! Then his fingers caught a chain, and his other hand came to brace. Bullets bit into concrete as the Roadmaster came to a halt; he was a dangling target. Another bullet caught in the armored plating of the jumpsuit as he twisted the weight of his lower body up, bringing his stunted legs up and over.

Go, go, go, Cat whispered as he came onto his feet and more bullets ate at concrete, dust falling around him. Laying a hand on the package to keep it from bouncing as he took off, the angle of the building cutting off the machine gun. Racing for the ramp down; perhaps he could find a way out at ground level. Barking automatics as he reached the top of the ramp forced him to reevaluate that decision as bullets whizzed around him. Leaping across the gap between ramp and floor, cutting off the gangers below, landing in a roll and flipping onto his fee and racing for the ramp across the way.

I need a wall! he screamed in his mind; the Spirit responded an acknowledgment, materializing to cover his tracks. It took the form of a glowing GridGuide agent, feminine in form but lacking defining features, a double yellow line down the center, its arms and legs dotted with white lines. The spirit opened its mouth; a prerecorded message escaped. "This road has been closed. We apologize for any inconvenience," it stated as the gangers raced up the ramp after the dwarf. Hands extended, becoming giant red STOP signs, as the parking garage shuddered; the ramp shattered beneath the gangers, and the roof above fell inwards. Gangers collapsed in a shower of concrete and dust, some half-buried, others rolling clear of the wreckage.

Thank you, Paws whispered to the spirit, who returned the sentiment in the form of another prerecorded message. You have two points remaining on your license. Thank you for using GridGuide, your Guide through the city. The dwarf's feet were on the ramp; collapsing the path wouldn't stop the gangers for very long. The moon was high up in the sky; he'd be a black blot against its pregnant form, easily traceable through the air. No choice but rooftop now, though. Up a ramp, across the parking lot, up the ramp, across, up. Then he was on the roof of the garage, and he did a quick double-check on direction before taking off across the roof.

Leap, roll, twist; from one roof to another, across, leaping across broken central air units or sliding beneath ducts, leaping from the roof and landing in a roll on another. He heard the gangers shouting, the Roadmaster below, easily keeping pace; they took potshots with the mounted machine gun, their AK-97s, their pistols as he leaped between roofs and they were afforded clean shots. Those were the moments he feared the most; the impact of a bullet could alter his flight, and he was barely clearing the rooftops as it was. But there it was, just ahead; darkness gave way to bright lights. The border to Snohomish, where CorpSec would watch him die, and Knight Errant would pepper the goons to keep them in the Barrens. Just four roofs left... three... two... his lungs were screaming, wanted more than the steady, even breaths he kept pumping in and out of them. His arms and legs were aching, straining with exertion. One more roof. There it was just below, the border!

He pushed from the roof, sailed through the air; a three-round burst caught him in the midsection, spun him rapidly to the right. What a sight; a dwarf in a jumpsuit in an uncontrolled pirouette through the air. He felt cold night air through the jumpsuit; one of the bullets had penetrated, but only just, leaving a deep bruise in his abdomen. He hit the roof on his side, groaned; the package was on the other hip, at least. But he kept rolling, too much momentum and not a hard enough stop. Curling into a ball, rolling side over side, protecting the package with his core. And then there was no more roof; free fall, the swooping sensation in his stomach telling him the landing wasn't going to be pretty. The ground rushed up; his back met it, his head bouncing, protected by the armored hood so his brains stayed inside his skull. Dazed eyes looked up; he heard startled gasps, saw familiar faces of wageslaves on a night out, flashing lights blurring his vision further. A large ork above him, lips moving; he couldn't make out what he was saying. A hand reached for him; he swatted it away, or tried to, his arms failing him as he no longer had an understanding of up and down. A gun came off the ork's hip, pointed down at him; he recognized the expression on the ork's face. He lay there as the massive ork hefted him up, led him into the foyer of the club, stuffed him into a security room and closed the door. The thumping bass of the music within married the thumping in his head from hitting the ground.

"Just a little nap," he muttered from behind his helmet; or he thought he did, thought he felt his lips move. Then he knew no more for at least an hour.

1. Katusro Minamoto also known as Kastu Was born as the son of a very high ranking Corp family. His father Ishiro was the leader of the red samurai division, and his mother was a corp mage working in his fathers old team.

2. Ishiro is proud to call Katsuro his son, he was a shining example of military bread combined with great magical skill. Star of the red sam elite at the age of 21.

3. N/A

4. It as a sad day when Katsuro was thrown into the shadows. He does not know the true reason behind it. It is said that his father shammed the corp and his family greatly, his father was killed and he was thrown from the corporation with a note saying, Prove your honor, and your usefulness and perhaps you shall one day be accepted back. He was unsure of what to do, soon he remembered defending corp holding from groups of criminals known as shadow runners and knew that this one of the better ways to use and grow his skills. He met a man named Ganji that had many friends in high places among the Yakuza it was Ganji who set his first run up working for the Yak.

5. Katsuro's living area is a sham of what he was used to. it was a small house in a rough neighbor hood. it included a kitchen, 2 bedrooms, a den, and a small area in which he could train his blade skills as well as care and clean his weapons.

6. Of the shinto relegion he believes in kami. He believes magic must be learned as all things, through training and discipline. you must learn how the world works, in order to change it. He firmly believes in his corporation and its goals.

7. His most annoying trait would be his ego, he feels he is superior to most others in most aspects of his life. That or his level of seriousness, he rarely cracks a smile these days. (though he is learning, whether he wants to or not, how to lighten up)

8. He is of course totally loyal to Renraku. he greatly dislikes Mitsuhima.

9. He met his contact not long after he was thrown from the corp when Ganji saw him fight off a pack of gangers that had thought to make an easy target of someone who was out alone. Ganji noticed his skills and jumped on the chance to have someone so practiced as a runner recommendation.

10. Katsuro normally has very little time for fun, He enjoys practicing with his Katana, honing his magical skills, cleaning his gear. If he wants a break from the norm he usually heads to a club in an attempt to find a bed partner. Or, he will purposefully look for a fight with some low life gangers.

11. He was trained by the best of the best at renraku, grommed from age 8 to be the top of the elite in the red samurai of Renraku.

12. While working for the corp. He was instilled with several morals. one, Kill those who would harm your family, your goals, the corp. His father taught him honor, though the honor he learned has no problems with shooting a man several 100 meters away, though there is something about doublecrossing and shooting men in the back that he does not like.

13. Magic, of course is for the elite, the greatest of men. Magic is a means through which man may empower himself and do things others would only dream of. by and by, he cares not much for technomancers, though would, most likely, bring one to renraku should he find one.

14. Augmentation is the way the weak attempt to contend with the strong. It is a means of attempting to replicate the deeds great men can do.

15. Ordinary life has no place with Katsuro, he finds it boring, the lax of discipline appalling, and the way that they waste their lives doing menial things urks him, though he makes no judgements on those who live this life, he feels a slight pang of disgust at some.

16. one of his only fears is forever being shamed and cast out of Renraku elite.

17. His only sacred objects are his sword, his rifle, and his Tattoos. each one represents an aspect that is himself.

18. his dream as a child was to follow his fathers footsteps and become head of the renraku elite Red Samurai. He still seeks to eventually fulfill this goal, though the one closer at hand is to be accepted back into renraku with honors.

19. he is 6 feet, tall for his ethnic background, Black hair, green eyes, muscled and athletic build. farily well looking as well as an heir of confidence and superiority.

20. His street name is Katsu, or Victory. He earned this name after several runs went bad and he was able to snatch them out of the fire by taking out opposition. He has never lost a fight he has been in so far.

1) What's your heritage?
Caucasian, human. A bit of a minority in the barrens.

2) What would your parents say about you?
He's a bright kid, when he applies himself. The boy always had a knack for cars but he plays around too damn much.

3) What historical events does your character remember?
Crash 2.0 That's when everything went from a cozy middle class corp family to barely legel Denizens of the barrens. He was young but Breaker still remembers his father's panic.

4) How did you get into shadowrunning, and why?
You do what it takes to make a living in the sixth world. Sure I'm a decent mechanic but if you want a real lifestyle you need the nuyen.

5) What is your living space like?
Well I like to call it my rocking bachelor pad over my body shop. I'm pretty careful with what I eat so there is usually some fresh non-stuffer shack food in the fridge. Becareful if you walk around without any lights on. You are likely to trip on a piston or manifold I brought up to clean while watching The 13th Street boyz wreck some kids in combat biking.

6) What are your beliefs / convictions (if any) and why do you hold them?
Live hard, drive fast, and break for no one.

7) what do you think is your most annoying / worst trait?
People tell me I smile too much. Maybe they just don't smile enough.

8 ) What megacorp do you like the most? the Least? Why?
Well its hard not to like Ares. I mean Damian Knight is the pentical of playboy with awesome toys. Not to mention they own pretty much the entire north American auto industry. Got to say I hate Aztech. I mean sure the blood magic and all that other bad Juju they are mixed up in is scary, but seriously man. They own stuffer shack. That's got to be the biggest plot to undermine the UCAS population I've ever heard of.

9) How did you come to know your contacts?
Well I've been working with Jimbo for a long time. Get alot of parts from his yard. That Knight errant guy? I've done a couple of jobs on his cruiser for free when he was a gum shoe. Now Rehab the dwarf smuggler... I met him at the black lady. Did a job or two for him. He's the one who got me into actual rigging. He's also been pretty good about seting me up with some of the gear i need for it.

10) What do you do on a day off?
If I got the extra cash I'll lounge around at the Black Lady for a few hours. Always have a nice suit ready for that. If not, well I've always got stuff to tinker with at the shop. My folks moved back to a corp, I might visit them, but I try not to test out my fake IDs too much.

11) How did you come to learn your skills at your present proficiency?
My father was a mechanic before the crash. After the world turned upside down he was doing chop jobs in some pretty shady shops. He taught me the basics. After that I started looking up some engineering on my own. Some one told me I'm smart enough to have a BS in mechanical engineering. I don't know about all that but I'm getting a bit of a rep as Mr. Fix it if I do say so myself.

12) Are there any moral limits on what jobs you take or things you'll do?
I don't think i'm into wet work. Like.... uhh bad juju.

13) How do you view magic / technomantic abilities?
I'm pretty sure technomancers are cheating. Mages? Hadn't thought too much about them. They are rare enough around here. I'm guessing they are all like Brimestone P.I. on the trids. throwing fireballs, and roughing up mafia goons in fist fights for fun.

14) How do you view augmentation / implantation?
Biologically we are all just machines. If you can tweak and tune a machine to perform better, then you should.

15) What do you think of ordinary life and those who live it?
Your call chummer. When they write your obituary do you think it will be interesting enough for a stranger to read?

16) What would be a bad nightmare for you? Any deep-rooted fears? Why is it so frightening to you?
Losing everything. Its like the night of the crash. Everything you worked for or attempted to build up is gone in an instant. I guess that would mean by extension i'm scared of guns, bombs, knives, car crashes, banks, broken glass, and getting the wrong medicine at the free clinic. Man I'd loose my mind if i thought about it like that all the time....

17) What is your 'sacred object' or 'close one', and how did they become so important to you?
That would have to be my body shop. I spent a ton of time trying to build it as a business. Getting the gear, and building a rep. Rehab showed me there are easier ways to make my creds but those tools are my life man.

18) What did you want to become as a child, and what are your goals now?
I was all about being an astronaut. I mean come on, we still don't have a significant presence on mars. Today? Well I mainly just want to get next month's rent for my body shop. Its the one thing I've managed to scrounge together in this town.

19) What does your character look like, and what inspired her choices?
At any given time you would probably find me in a jump suite with the arms tied off around my waist. I try to clean up as nice as possible though. I keep my hair short, that just comes down to being pragmatic. Long hair gets in the way of every thing. Well since getting into the "Biz" I decided I should at least try to look the part. I got one of those awesome trench coats like Brimstone PI wears. Flaming fist on the back and everything. Now I look like a runner.

20) How did you get your street name?
Breaker's Body Shop. I found the shop before I got the name. It had been abandoned, apparently some big gang fights had happened near it, and the owner abandoned it. I started doing jobs out the garage and people began to call me Breaker before i knew it./