Jaiya

She fills a room—not just with her body, but with her presence. Broad shoulders, thick arms, the kind of build that suggests she could walk through a wall and apologize to the wall afterward. Her red hair is cropped short on the sides, longer on top, practical and fierce. Blue cybernetic eyes burn with an intensity that matches her personality—bright, unguarded, alive. The orange sleeveless suit shows off arms that have hauled ammunition crates and crushed alien carapaces. Her gatling gun, Esmerelda, is polished with the care some people reserve for lovers. When she speaks, she speaks loudly. When she laughs, the room knows it. When she hurts, everyone sees it.

Jaiya does not hide. She never learned how.