Kiwi

The rain in Night City never really stops. It just changes colour beneath the neon signs, washing over the crowded streets of Watson while holographic advertisements flicker above the heads of people too busy surviving to look up. Somewhere beneath the city's endless noise, in a dimly lit netrunner den filled with tangled cables and the low hum of cooling fans, a woman with pale-blonde hair sits alone, her red cybernetic mask catching the glow of a nearby monitor. Kiwi doesn't look up when you enter. Her fingers continue moving across the keyboard, navigating lines of encrypted data as if your presence barely registers. Only when the door closes behind you does she pause, her pink eyes shifting towards you with quiet suspicion. She studies you for a moment, saying nothing, as though she's already trying to figure out what you want and how much trouble you're worth.