Futuristic Trauma Team - Recruitment centre

[ThaDruid]

OFFICIAL RECRUITMENT FORM

Name:
"First name and last name, if you will."

Handle:
"Your codename in the field. It must not exceed the limit of two syllables, to ensure maximum efficiency."

Sex:
"Straightforward."

Age:
"Straightforward."

Appearance:
"Pictured or written, it matters not. Know that wearing the company issued combat suit during service is mandatory."

Outlook:
"Are you truly happy with your place in life?"

Reason for being hired:
"Straightforward."

Past Occupation/s:
"Legal or illegal occupations you may have had beforehand."

Experience in the field:
"How much time have you been a loyal employee, and what have you accomplished in this period?"

Internal connection:
"You know another member of the Team from somewhere. Who and why?"

External connection:
"You have one connection that you may trust to get you out of a bad spot. Who are they and why do they owe you?"

Equipment:
"Your preference of the company-issued equipment."
"Gunners recieve an extra-armored combat suit, one heavy weapon of their choice, one sidearm of their choice, one concealed melee weapon of their choice and an assortment of smoke, flash and fragmentation grenades."
"MedTechs recieve a regular combat suit, one sub-machinegun of their choice, one sidearm of their choice, and the MedTech Special: a trusty and compact doctor's bag filled with emergency aid material, stimulants and an assortment of combat drugs of the MedTech's choice."
"Pilots recieve a regular combat suit, one sub-machinegun of their choice, one sidearm of their choice, keys to the Hover-Ambulance and, at their choice, either one remotely-controllable TraumaTeam flying drone or remote control of the Hover-Ambulance, including the various attachments such as the side-mounted heavy machinegun or the external napalm dispensers."

Declared Cyberware:
"Cyberware installed before or after employment into the company. Gunners may have up to 6, Pilots and MedTechs up to 3. Know that having a lot of cyberware installed may signify health complications and the beginnings of cyber-psychosis, if symptoms are not treated accordingly."

Loyalty to the corporation:
"How loyal does the company think you to be, and how much have you really been?"

Reference links:
Cyberware: Cyberware
Armory: MOTORCYCLES (note that rifles and shotguns also count as heavy weapons for the sake of the RP)​

 

[Rusty of Shackleford]

Name:
Issac Garret

Handle:
Slouch

Sex:
Male

Age:
29

Appearance:
(He of course wears the Trauma Team uniform and doesn't have a wrist blade.)

Reason for being hired:
Extensive military training and service

Past Occupation/s:
United States Marines

Experience in the field:
Has been employed for about two years now.

Internal connection:
TBA

External connection:
One of his old war buddies got into the black market selling weapons, so Issac goes to him if he has trouble.

Equipment:

Kriss "Kukiri" 5.56 Assault Rifle


Glock 56 5.7mm Handgun


Extra-Armored Combat Suit

Extendable Shock Baton
Declared Cyberware:
A replacement prosthetic left arm and an artificial heart to repair damage from an explosion.

Loyalty to the corporation:
The corporation is confident that he will keep working for them, while Issac is only loyal to them as long as they keep paying for his sick wife's medical expenses.​

 

[0stinato]

Name:
Ford Redpath, insert joke here about how I make the paths run red with blood or some shit, I don't know.

Handle:
F

Sex:
Male

Age:
38

Appearance:
I'm naturally rather tall and probably could be quite handsome and buff if I wasn't as lazy as I am. I don't really eat well either and that shows in my skin and my belly fat. Or my ass fat. Or most of wherever the fat is. I work out often enough that I can do my duty as a gunner well enough, but I don't really do it for myself or my health, which I keep telling myself to do, then I look in the mirror and go, "eh, fuck it" and carry on eating whatever I was eating before I considered that stupid idea. PS, if someone asks me to go to the gym with them for a social occasion, I will dunk their head in a toilet.
Pictured: F in his natural environment.

​

Not Pictured: Typical Trauma Team wear, extra-amoured and with a poker chip on the front, having been spray-painted on haphazardly with brown paint.

Reason for being hired:
I'll just quote from my acceptance file shall I? "Although Redpath showed considerable irritation and aggression towards the other candidates during training, his indefaticable (hard word) determination saw him become part of Trauma Team. It has been advised he does not attempt interactions with patients, as his attitudes have been described from frightening to sloppy. Bad bedside manner, but effective in the field." That's so inaccurate.

Past Occupation/s:
Not sure if it's an 'occupation' or what, but I was one of the keen-eyed shooting boys in the caravan of Nomads I lived with. I used to go out hunting both for wildlife and for sport. Only problem is, out in those Canadian wastes, you haven't got much animals to kill, so a couple of times we went hunting against gangs in the area, me and the other hunters. My efforts meant we were able to eat, either by taking kills the gangs had gathered, or taking their money to buy whatever we wanted... not that we bought much rather than stole it. So I did that, but after I left all that I counted cards in a casino for a while, got scouted out by the casino people and was asked to work for them, 'cause they wanted me on the inside making them money, rather than on the outside taking money from them. I got less pay than I got from just counting cards, but I got a nice room in a hotel and money off at the bar.

Experience in the field:
I was training for Trauma Team, after I got kicked out of the casino for being too slobbish for their stupid dress-code, for a couple years. I saw I could use everything I knew from growing up in a good job, so I thought I'd give it a go. I got employed for Trauma Team about six years ago, but I've served for about five-and-a-half 'cause I had a six-month suspension for apparently endangering the life of one of my team. It was meant to be a longer suspension, but the guy they had to replace me was useless, so I was called back in, but still punished with docked pay. Still, I've proved myself quite well in the field I think, and also I know not to shoot out the pilot's side window, 'cause that's what had me suspended last time. I don't know how that's endangering anything, even the pilots' suits protect them from glass, it was a bullshit suspension.

Internal connection:
WHO WANTS TO BE MY FRIEND LET ME KNOW, OR MY ENEMY, OR MY RIVAL, OR SOMEONE I PROBABLY ANNOYED IN THE PAST. DID I STEAL YOUR PENCIL CASE DURING ELEMENTARY SCHOOL?! PROBABLY NOT 'CAUSE I DIDN'T GO TO ELEMENTARY SCHOOL, YOU IDIOT DOUCHECANOE.

External connection:
Met a woman who did the same job as I did at the casino, we kind of hit it off, though I'm pretty sure she's a lesbian so that is annoying, but she's older than me so maybe it's best if I don't even try. Still, she said she had formal army training, and had the medals to prove it. I told her I was gonna try training for the Trauma Team when I got kicked out of the casino. She raised her eyebrow and gave me her pager information. I said, Who has a pager these days? and she just shrugged and gave me her number as well. I haven't tried paging her because I haven't got a fuckin pager, but we've done phone calls in the past.

Equipment:
Gunner - extra-armoured combat suit (the front of the suit has received a spray-painting of a brown poker chip), modified hunting rifle with scope and optional mount (my days as a Nomad huntsman will never die!), .45 rather 'well-loved' pistol, concealed taser mounted on the left wrist, assortment of grenades on a belt and bandolier.

Declared Cyberware:
Installed Before:
1) Minute-motion detector - Installed in my heel, this motion detector can be toggled on and off. It is good at detecting very small, minute motions, such as hard-to-see bodily twinges, but has quite a small range... say, the diameter of a poker table...

Installed During Service:
2) Two cybernetic hands (the right one is updated more than the left) - The two cybernetic hands are hardier than my real hands were, although they've got synthetic skin over them too. They look sort of like normal hands, but I don't have to trim the fingernails and also it doesn't have tremors or shake or anything, so that's good. I asked for my two removed hands after the surgery because I wanted to attract a wolf or two, but I was told I couldn't have them.

3) Reinforced knuckles - Installed during the hand surgery thing. They're good for punching if a bad guy gets too close.

4) Adrenal booster - An artificial gland that releases adrenal horemones on command. I'm slightly addicted to it.

Loyalty to the corporation:
I imagine, since I got suspended for a while, they don't like me much. Kind of like a headache that isn't a symptom of cancer or whatever, but is just a general annoyance. I didn't make that analogy up by the way, it was in my annual performance review.

Outlook:
Probably like an empty wallet. Pointless without some dough. And if you got that cash, let's play cards. Properly.

(Let me know if I need to change anything.)

 

[ThaDruid]

Name:
John Smith

Handle:
"Bones"

Sex:
Male

Age:
47

Appearance:
Mean-looking bastard, approaching retirement age. Bald, with tattoos more similar to hi-tech circuits running on the top of his head. A piece of his forehead, near the right temple, has been drilled out and replaced with something metallic apparently. Two cybernetic eyes, buzzing and clicking everytime he blinks. Face always frowning, like he's got an itch that he can't scratch. Big, bushy beard and some metal replacements for his teeth. Body full of scars, and a nifty last-gen cybernetic left arm, colored bright chrome.

Outlook:
"If you don't like it, you eventually manage to accept it. How much time passes until then is all on you."

Reason for being hired:
"Got caught between the crossfire of a booster gang and a Trauma Team, while also operating on the person Trauma Team came in to extract. The girl flatlined, Trauma Team nabbed me and forced me to work for them so I would pay off the "debt". Must've looked like a real nice opportunity to nab a cyberdoc for the corporate fucks, but my days of going against the system are over. Plus, it makes for a cushy job once you get the hang of it. And you get used to having a bomb in your skull."

Past Occupations:
"Worked as a Ripper Doc, or illegal cyberware surgeon as you would call it, for a long while. The city's criminal underbelly knows to pay good money to the guy working sawbones on your body. I even had a fake license propped up on my wall. My actual one expired ages ago. And I was this fucking close to retiring to a nice sunny island before the shitshow happened. Guess good times never last long."

Experience in the field:
"Been working here for the better part of two years. Saved more people than I can count, put a bullet in even more. Catched a bunch of bullets myself, even some shrapnel while trying to shield a patient from a frag 'nade. 'S how I lost my arm. Still haven't got my head brown up. That's a successful couple of years if you ask me."

Internal connection:
To be determined

External connection:
"Now this should be expected, but I was on a couple of gang bosses' payroll before doing this job. Still recieve a couple of phonecalls from them, from time to time. Bastards want to see how I'm doing, or so they say. Anyway, one of them was a real cyber-fiend. He wanted to always be top of the line, and had the Dough to back it up. Surprised he hasn't gone cyber-psycho yet. Guy must be taking his medication. And guess just who supplied him with the stuff under-the-table at below market value? Why John Smith of course. No receipt, no traces."

Equipment:
- Trauma Team combat suit
- P90 SMG with a laser dot attachment.
- Colt Python revolver
- The MedTech Special

Declared Cyberware:
Installed before service:
- Cybereyes with a visual biomonitor installed. John may see his own vitals on a holographic display at any time, or someone else's vitals if he jacks into any of their cyberware.

Installed after beginning of service:
- "Loyalty Implant", a compact explosive charge installed at the front of John's skull. It may only be activated manually by the Trauma Team corporation.

- Cybernetic left arm colored Chrome, with a multi-tool hand and a concealed flamethrower in the forearm. John insisted on the flamethrower.


Loyalty to the corporation:
"As loyal as an old dog who just wants to retire can be. Except this dog has a gun constantly pointed at his head, so I'd say pretty damn loyal."

 

[Osthavula]

OFFICIAL RECRUITMENT FORM

Name:
"Timothy Sacker"

Handle:
"Slacker"

Sex:
"Male"

Age:
"28"

Appearance:
"Strange thing in a form of sorts. Brown hair, average looking person. A beard, nothing unusual. My eyes might move weird sometimes if you don't mind. You might see some resemblances of my dad if you see him on some weird financial electronic magazine. "

Outlook:
"Can't complain. Legally speeding is my job. "

Reason for being hired:
"I can make machines that carry human be the fastest. That is if you take the precaution to arm it. I don't become the fastest driver by following the lines. "

Past Occupation/s:
"Part-time racing driver counts maybe. Anything that involves a car, plane, drone and no speed limits I'm there. "

Experience in the field:
"Not long, three years? But you can't replace me. I'm the best you can get. "

Internal connection:
"I'll know them when I see them... Maybe. Is it important? "

External connection:
"I mean my father can, but no one likes to call him. He gets real whiney. Then you have my mechanics but they also have their temper. I supposed you can call on my mother's best friend's sister's daughter who is a nun, who just might help call an ambulance after her neverending lectures. "

Equipment:

"Well, it is not a lot that I'm demanding. The most important is the Hover-Ambulance, which you need to make sure it is doubled down on armour, and the guns and what not for the other members. The suit I saw everyone had similar things. As for arms, just send the best heavy pistol to my address and they will 'personalize' it for me. Grips, add some decor, carve my name, that sort of things. You have to please them by having their way, you see, or they won't repair my cars on time. "

Declared Cyberware:
"My eyes are tune so they react faster. See how I can turn them this quickly. Creepy-looking, eh? And I have laced my muscles as well as installing the neuralware to enhance reflex. I find them safer than just installing cyberlimbs, when they fail I still have my muscles to use. I train those too, of course. "

Loyalty to the corporation:
"I don't know how loyal the company thinks of me, but hey, the company made me the happiest man alive. "

​