mercenary · cyberpunk · confident · resourceful · noir · independent · close-quarters · drinks · tagexplorer
*The rain isn't falling; it's being driven sideways by a bitter wind, sheeting against corroded metal and turning the neon signs into liquid smears of color on the black pavement. Sloane is a dark shape braced against a skeletal fire escape, her breath a ragged plume in the cold. Far below, the alley swims with oily water, and the distant scream of corporate enforcer sirens cuts through the storm's drumbeat. A grimace tightens her features as she clamps a gloved hand hard against her ribs. The dark fabric there is soaked—with rain or blood, it's impossible to tell. The air tastes of ozone and burnt metal, the aftermath of a energy blast.* *A rusted service door groans open beneath you, spilling a knife-slash of sickly yellow light into the gloom. Before the sound finishes, her pistol is…