Luna Masako - “Lunar Rabbit” on nearly every board, CDN included - is a talkative, friendly, and foul-mouthed woman who’s found that her calling in life is shooting people. Once a failed college student quickly going nowhere (unless you counted dead-end jobs and failing the same classes over and over again as somewhere), she managed to snag a low-grade PMC job with a bit of resume exaggeration, and quickly found herself fighting all over the galaxy, putting holes in gangbangers, terrorists, Batarians death squads, Geth, supremacist militia, other mercs, corporate goons, Terminus pirates, or good ol’ fashioned Reapers.
IF YA WANT MY BODY AND YA THINK I'M SEXY
She's lean - someone used to marching long distances or manual cycling. Tan olive skin consistent with her Southeast Asian heritage... and jungle fighting... or being lazy on a beach. Arms have some heft to them - someone used to lugging heavy weaponry around without a gyro or extra motors. She has a pair of almond-shaped brown eyes. A mouth with moderately full, ridged lips, and a somewhat pointed, but small nose, with slightly sharp cheekbones. She has straight black hair that doesn't show much care, beyond being washed consistently and not reaching below her shoulders. It's tied into a neat bun when she's on a mission.
Even in high-grade combat armor, she still manages to look like a university student.
Without meaning to, she gives off an air of 'been there, done that' - expect some bullshit about how 'this was just like the miner insurrection at Ares Prime' or 'wow, they're using the same gear as those terrorists who took over the Nakatomi arcology' or rambling about the torture tactics Columbian Cartels in New Detroit use during the heat of battle.
Her custom-made armor is oddly angled, like certain gunships or fighters, aerodynamically shaped. The helmet is no exception, resembling the front portion of an ultra-expensive atmo fighter . A variety of visual sensors form goggle-like formations on where the eyes normally are on a human, and two swept-back antennae reminiscent of jet fins or rabbit ears sit on the side of the helmet.
Out of battle, she dresses simply - durable work pants and shirts either consisting of "ironic" sayings or references to various human pop culture or obscure bands.
Born on Earth, in a city just outside the sprawling San Francisco-San Jose megacity, to parents of East and Southeast Asian descent. Other than being really interested in action trideos, and the usual tantrums as a wee child, her childhood was normal. She found herself stuck in college - either failing the general education requirements or repeating a year, to the point she had to drop out. Her future was either a minimum wage job and getting her very Confucian parents really, really mad, or join the military.
On the advice of her bounty hunting cousin - who got her into the whole 'shooting imaginary virtual people' deal - she decided to try her hand at shooting things without getting dishonorably discharged from the military by being a lazy fuck. Through some luck, lots of ad-searching through endless tacticool wanna-be operator catalogs, and a bit of resume exaggeration (read: outright lying) about her time in the USAF Civil Air Patrol and Navy JROTC through most of her teens (which provided her with marksmanship training, search and rescue, damage control, some other stuff the military likes having you do, and earning her the ire of actual Systems Alliance personnel), she managed to score her first job - a start-up "security contractor" made up of various cops, Army personnel, street-smart ex-hood rats looking for a way out of the ghettos without signing their life away to the military, doing what was too expensive for rent-a-cops and too cheap for actual PMCs.
First time she shot someone - well, something - was at a startup weapons manufacturing company making and shipping police-grade rifles. Some local street gang decided to raid it to get a leg up in the eternal arms race of street warfare, and crashed a technical through a security checkpoint and right into the lobby.
The PMC congratulated her on her first series of willful murders. The team leader even bought champagne… mostly as an excuse to get the rest of the team drunk, because Luna can't drink.
After that, it was slightly more action-packed - hauling around minor celebrities doing minor charity work in majorly poor areas, "augmenting" cops in sections of the barrios where the gang members had better guns than the cops, riding around in armored cars, trying not to be bored.
And then the Reapers came, and then it became really action packed, and then no one bothered looking up if she was ACTUALLY an ex-sailor, because everyone was too busy trying not to die.
Since then, her official resume's been everywhere. Batarians, Blue Suns, drug cartels, neo-Nazi militia, geth incursions, terrorists, human supremacist organizations, insurgencies, even dangerous wildlife - you name it, she's probably fought it, main exception being most major militaries. She's not itching to get hauled before a military court.
She's often switching from a freelancer to joining up with a major PMC on a whim, always as their version of a temp, if temps dealt in bullets and grenades. Where there's a fight, she's there.
Primary: a customized Jormungand-manufactured N7 Valkyrie converted to full auto. Aside from some changes, like a different buttstock and a stylized, aerodynamic (and extended) barrel, it remains somewhat the same.
Secondary: A N7 Eagle with an extended barrel and an extended clip.
For the most part, she's the most skilled with assault/battle rifles and machine guns of both the light and heavy flavor, but has had done her fair share of close-quarters combat with pistols, shotguns, and SMGs. Don't ask her to snipe from ten miles away, though. She also has a basic knowledge of hand-to-hand combat from half-remembered karate lessons she took in college and watching gang members trying to shank her squad members. She also has basic knowledge of demolitions (how to throw a grenade properly, where to place the front towards enemy, when not detonate explosives so you don't blow yourself up), search and rescue, survival (mostly limited to starting fires and cleaning and skinning animals after shooting them in places that doesn't ruin the meat), basic emergency medical treatment (hard to miss out on when both your parents are medical doctors). She's also trained in restraining prisoners and searching them carefully, picking up a few lessons from cops and ex-cops she's served with, often times from the worst ghettos, barrios, favelas, etc. of the galaxy. On the other side, she has picked up a few surviving-in-prison techniques from fellow mercs who were ex-cons, such as fashioning shivs and prison slang.