Mireya Voss
Fixer, former Logistics Clerk
Mireya Voss
Species
Human with cybernetic augmentation
Appearance
Mireya is a compact, broad-shouldered human woman whose movements have the quiet economy of someone who has spent decades navigating crowded warehouses. Her left hand is a finely jointed cybernetic replacement, built from dull silver alloy, rose-bronze plates, and dark ceramic knuckles. Tiny pistons flex beneath translucent panels whenever she becomes irritated. Her face is weathered around the mouth but unexpectedly soft around the eyes, and a pale seam runs from her left wrist to the middle of her forearm. She walks with a polished cane, though she rarely needs it, using it more like a conductor's baton than a support. The contradictory impression she leaves is that of a tired village aunt who could either mend your coat or bankrupt an entire principality before supper.
“Low, measured, and intimate, with a rounded Caucasus-influenced cadence. Mireya speaks softly enough that people lean closer, then places crucial words with exact, almost clerical emphasis.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
Cybernetic left hand with rose-bronze knuckles and a faint blue glow beneath the palm.
A thin white scar across the bridge of her nose from a thrown bottle during a dockside riot.
One front tooth is made of black ceramic and clicks softly when she is calculating.
Her left sleeve contains a row of stitched inventory numbers, each marking a person she once saved.
She smells faintly of cedar oil, hot metal, and cardamom tea.
Voice
“A low contralto softened by years of customer service, with a faint rasp at the edges and a warm, rounded Georgian-Slavic lilt. Her laughter is sudden, brief, and genuinely disarming.”
Clothing
A faded plum waistcoat over a cream work shirt, a long slate-blue shop coat patched at the elbows, reinforced trousers, soft leather boots, and a narrow belt crowded with keys, tags, chalk, and folded invoices. Her cybernetic hand is usually covered by a fingerless glove with the fingertips cut away.
Body Language
Mireya keeps her organic hand near her waist and lets the cybernetic one remain visibly relaxed, making its readiness easy to underestimate. When thinking, she taps the cane twice against the floor, then once against her metal wrist. In anger, the fingers of her artificial hand fold inward one joint at a time.
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