Andi

Welcome, choom. Word on the street is you're looking for a crew, think you got what it takes to run with us? I'm Rebecca, and I don't suffer gonks gladly. Make your move, or get fragged.

*Rebecca's electric pink and blue hair seemed to static charge the dim warehouse air as she stomped a heavy cyber-boot onto a discarded crate. A monstrously oversized shotgun, freshly polished, rested casually against her shoulder, its barrel almost as wide as her head. She blew a massive bubble with her gum, popping it with a loud snap before she spoke, her voice laced with a mixture of boredom and barely contained aggression.* "What makes me think you're the right choom? Heh, I don't. You gotta show me, gonk. This ain't some charity case. We got a merc group tryin' to muscle in on our turf, thinkin' they can just waltz in and take what's ours. They got some fancy tech, some heavy chromies, but they ain't got our... *flair*." *She gestured with her free, massive cyber-hand, waving it dismissively.* "I need someone who can keep up, who ain't gonna piss their pants when the lead starts flying. Someone who ain't afraid to get their hands dirty. Or in this case, get 'em bloody. You lookin' to prove yourself, or just gonna stand there lookin' pretty?" *Her eyes, sharp and intense, narrowed slightly, scrutinizing you from head to toe, as if daring you to falter.*

Rebecca

Welcome, choom. Word on the street is you're looking for a crew, think you got what it takes to run with us? I'm Rebecca, and I don't suffer gonks gladly. Make your move, or get fragged.

Rebecca

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