vietmyke

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Galahad Caradoc

---

The Valheim remnants fought hard, but somehow this disparate group of strangers and newcomers fought harder. While outnumbered, on an individual level, it was obvious that they each vastly outmatched the regular Valheim soldier. Be it the two men that came out of one of the huts, blades flashing as they waded their way through the enemies. One was light and fast, the other was larger and more deliberate, obviously trained in martial discipline despite their unorthodox fighting style, though the way he moved suggested he might've been better off with a larger weapon- like the one one his back. The mages that came to their aid with fire and ice, though both were small enough that they almost escaped Galahad's notice. To finish routing the enemy, yet another came to their aid, dashing in with all the gusto of cavalry came a well dressed woman with thrusting sword in hand. Galahad himself only needed to dispatch a few more soldiers with his halberd before the Valheim morale finally shattered and the soldiers began their retreat.

Though not one to chase down routing soldiers, Galahad nevertheless kept up the pressure until they were well and truly out of the vicinity, close enough to be nearby Izayoi as she pinned down the last remaining fusilier. He grimaced as Izayoi pulled off the man's helmet. Man. In truth the soldier was closer to a boy. Gerant's face flashed in place of the young soldier's. Galahad stood still for a moment as he watched Izayoi interrogate the Valheim soldier with his brother's face. He frowned, and the grip around the haft of his halberd tightened- perhaps she was a demon after all. At the very least the title of Limbtaker seemed apt. Perhaps he should've done as his father commanded and remove her head- while her back was turned to him was the easiest chance he'd get. Looking away didn't help- he even heard Gerant's voice in place of the Valheim soldier's. He opened his mouth to object, but the samurai finished her quick interrogation before he had the chance. At the very least his helmet hid the look on his face, though his pause was notable before he nodded to her.

"The heart of Valheim operations would be the place to find information." He replied somewhat stiffly, "Kurogane is the logical move."

---

Camp found them with some relative peace from the bloodshed. Galahad seemed to have relaxed more, his helmet sitting at his feet while he ate, glancing at the newcomers with interest. For all of his misgivings about the samurai, she was right. One was fortuitous enough a coincidence, five was well past bordering on suspicious. At the very least enough for him to keep the majority of his armor on until he knew their motives.

The first two were simple enough- one outright admitted he was from Skael's Garden. Incidentally heading the way they were. "Friend of yours?" He offered Elaine with a raised eyebrow. The other man, Rudolf, also looked young. Even moreso than the Valheim soldier from earlier, this one reminded him of Gerant. A bit on the thin side, but seemingly confident enough- if a bit skittish beneath- also like Gerant.

"Just Galahad is fine." he replied to shorter blonde, "I've heard of Sagramore, a few of our initiates go there to learn monster hunting before returning to Midgar. I learned many of my fundamentals there."

In contrast, the mages were considerably smaller, bordering on miniscule. The one that had assisted him was Eve, and looked like no more than a child, if set with some strange accents- mainly the horns and tail. Her explanation was simple, if sad, and all the more reinforced Galahad's theory that the Blight might have been a manufactured occurrence by Valheim. The mage that assisted Arton was a skittish little one, having come to Osprey in search of her brother. An admirable goal, though Galahad was surprised she'd travel alone.

The last to join their number struck him as the gallant type, and while Galahad did not recognize their face, he had heard vague tales about a Robin Fey, not much around Midgar itself, but in and out of some of the smaller townships in Northern Edren, within Midgar's sphere of influence. The sparkles were a nice touch as well, memorable.

"Well met, all of you." Galahad nodded to the newcomers, taking stock of each of them in turn. "I am Galahad Caradoc." he stated simply, omitting his titles again, much like when they first set off.

"I am nominally the leader of this small group." He continued, gestured to those on his side of the fire, "One of a few tasked by King Leonhart to search for the cause of the Blight, and hopefully put an end to it."

He glanced at the others in his party before continuing, gauging their response to the newcomers. "Our search takes us to Valheim controlled Osprey. It seems we're all heading in the same direction for one reason or another.

SPIRITUM

Gerard Biserus

"Well, here's to hoping it wasn't us." Gerard drawled, nodding as Kalina returned with her own report. "Shooting the messenger isn't a great start for peace talks. Besides, I'd like to think we'd do a cleaner job of it."

"Don't wanna take anyone with you? Promise I won't talk your ear off. Gerard remarked as Justice gave them their general marching orders- it was starting to feel a lot like the simulations again. "At least take Kali with- actually nevermind, she's liable to shoot something if it jumps out at you."

As Justice headed off to go search for a princess in distress, the rest of them moved to join Morden and Silje. Val leaping off with her vestigial wings, while Gerard plodded along behind her, only pausing occasionally to throw the occasional pebble with simple light charms into any of the invisible mist-pockets he noticed. Most of them began to float as they hit the pockets- should they need to leave in a hurry, it'd make spotting the pockets easier at least.

---

"You weren't kidding when you said you found a 'bot." Gerard grimaced as they regrouped. Here, in the heart of the crash, the air felt even heavier. Gerard felt rather than saw mist, and often described his perception of mist to be like clay: Something simple and easy for him to mold precisely into whatever he needed, from his weapons to healing spells. In here, the air felt less like maleable clay and more like an amorphous sludge or putty. To make matters worse, one stream of putty that Silje was interacting with felt different from the rest.

"Hey Sil, I don't know if that's a good idea-" Gerard had managed to start, but it was too late.

As soon as Silje's being made contact with the weird mist, she immediately felt sick, as though her stomach had decided to do half a dozen somersaults in a single second. The feedback was visible, an inky black spark originating from the mist flew out and struck her in the forehead, knocking the small WARDEN clean off of her larger mount.

---

Justice's search ended not too far from the rest of the squad, just separated by a few dozen meters of mountainous metal rubble, fire and mist, near the edge of the crater. The presence she detected seemed to be coming from a dented and battered life boat. A fully enclosed escape-pod like device, meant to sit a few individuals, it seemed to have been launched a few seconds too late, its parachute apparently getting struck by and caught on the crashing ship. It's door had been knocked clean off by the impact and was warped and angled in a way that one would have to squeeze to get out. With her keen senses, Justice could make out what appeared to be a mixture of sobs and labored breathing.

Perhaps spotting a silhouette or somehow detecting her presence, as Justice approached the battered pod, from somewhere within she could see a flash of white-yellow light. Someone obviously skilled was preparing a spell- though perhaps unfamiliar with the dangers of firing spells off in such a volatile area.

"W-who's there?!" A shaky voice called out from within the dark pod. "A-albriech?"

---

"Jeez Silje, what were you thinking?" Gerard half complained as he began making his way over to the little battle mage. "Vacation's not over yet, can't have you keeling over before-"

Gerard blinked and paused, he could've sworn he heard the sound of metal shifting. Throwing his gauntlet into the air at the last moment, he managed a startled "Gah! Fuck!" across the squad communication spell as a blast of electricity cut through the air and slammed into his gauntlet, ricocheting high into the air and sending the gauntlet flying towards his face. The impact of his gauntlet caused his aegis to shatter like glass.

Climbing out of the rubble was another one of the robots that Morden had found, this one fully possessing all of its limbs, though it seemed to have taken just as much damage to its thick armor plating. The cannon on its arm smoked faintly as it's heavy fist pushed aside rubble to climb into the space proper. A Vangar sword-type gunblade stuck out of one of its four glowing eyes, only having sank in an inch. To make matters worse, Gerard felt the rubble behind him shifting as well, a second robot, this one considerably more damaged, missing its cannon arm, but still more than willing to use its remaining arm to attempt to bludgeon them into paste on the ground.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Galahad Caradoc

---

A blue-white streak of lightning caught the dragoon's weapon as it fell through the sky, the halberd itself briefly disappearing as the growing electricity enveloped it. Guided by Galahad's throw, the bolt of lightning homed in on the juggernaut, striking the bruiser with an overwhelming amount of energy, Galahad himself crashing down a moment later as earth, armor and flesh sundered from the impact. A deafening thunderclap followed in his wake as Galahad staggered and pulled himself out of the crater. Unfortunately, little time was given for him to recover, as almost immediately, Galahad felt himself being hit with a magical hailstorm, shards of ice cracking across his armor like arrows or bullets, more than one piercing through his armor and puncturing the skin below.

Turning to face the oncoming threat, Galahad found himself face to face with a column of infantry, seemingly set on holding him in place as the conjurer's storm slowly whittled him down. Even taking losses, it seemed Valheim were well trained and practiced in contingency plans. Luckily, Galahad wouldn't have worry about them for long- as an electrified firestorm swept through the Valheim ranks. Had Galahad not been in the middle of being pelted by magic, he might've taken stock of the mysterious mage that came to his aid- as well as the trio of adventurer types that seemed to have came out of the woodwork to help his party. Questions and confusion would have its time later, for now an enemy of my enemy would have to do- and Galahad was grateful for the assistance.

Rushing the conjurer, Galahad sprang and weaved past chunks of flying ice as the spellcaster attempted to hold him at bay. His spellcasting was efficient, well practiced, but measured and therefore slower than the dragoon. Diving over a spear sized icicle and rolling across the ground, Galahad converted the momentum into a throw of his halberd, the heavy weapon flying across the street and striking the conjurer's staff as he dodged out of the way. As the dragoon quickly closed the distance and retrieved his weapon, the valheim conjurer drew a dagger in an attempt at a final defense. As the conjurer lunged forward, Galahad batted the arm away with a flourish of his halberd, the razor edge of the heavy blade taking the unarmored spellcaster's wrist off in the process. Couching the weapon beneath his arm, Galahad stabbed forward with the spike at the butt of his weapon, piercing the conjurer before the weapon draw back and swung, the axe cleaving into his torso.

Finally with a moment of reprise, Galahad took a deep breath, as he took stock of the remaining battle. The Valheim forces were in disarray, the disappearance of their leader, and the loss of their lieutenants and any other member of significant seniority seemed to have left them without guidance, though their morale, while shaken seemed to hold strong enough that soldiers continued to fight hard even as they fell. The timely appearance of these new strangers seemed to have only sealed their fate, though apparently no one had told them. Though they lacked both leadership and magic support, Valheim still outnumbered them with infantry and fusiliers, what individuals remained reforming into ad-hoc groups to better defend themselves, beginning to make their way towards and cluster themselves around the last place their commander had been seen.

"One more push and their backs will break!" Galahad called out. He had to hand it to them, at least they had some discipline about them, even if Izayoi's wrath would inevitably wash over them. "Don't let them regroup!"

The Envenomed

ECHO DOMAIN - PLATFORM #2884

Acknowledged. Priority targets confirmed. Recommend Evac. Echo's voice crackled as the Endoform lit up the target once again with an extended burst from its autocannon. The threat seemed to have protection from directed energy and beams, but nothing could withstand enough sustained fire for too long. Unlike regular humans, or even power armor clad humans, recoil was less an issue for a being of stone and metal. No matter how hard the weapon bucked, it was as much a part of Echo as its armor was. Add on top of it bioguided shells to make up for any recoil, in lieu of any greater threats, Echo merely held down the trigger until its weapon barrels began to glow a faint cherry red.

Lines of tracers cut across the torso of the mech as Echo guided its weapon towards any of the vulnerable areas in view that Salvator noted. It didn't have the time or thinking capacity to single out a particular system, be it weapon, camera or antenna, instead the Endoform shifted ita focus to whichever subsystem happened to be closest to its current stream of fire. It seemed that Echo's endoform was intent on emptying its magazine before releasing the trigger.

Unfortunately for them, the mech didn't seem to be the type to just sit still.

Alert. Enemy incoming.

The mech was faster than Echo, and Echo's anti-gravity drives were already damaged. Attempting to flee from the mech was an impossibility, the mech would just shift course and intercept them. Instead, Echo turned to face the mech head on and began an offensive advance of its own, taxing its anti-grav drives as it accelerated to ramming speed.

Alert. Initiating counter charge. Brace for impact.

A game of giant robot chicken was surely unexpected. Would a pilot wonder why a machine currently operating anti-grav systems would charge a grounded vehicle? Any bit of confusion helped. If Alice managed to destroy some wheels to disrupt its charge was even better. A vehicle's handling had lag time. Lag between the pilot noticing something, thinking of what to do, inputing commands into its control system, and the machine itself reacing to said system. Echo wasn't a vehicle. Every function within its body- baring any abnormalities- moved at the speed of thought.

In full control of its speed and momentum, at the very least minute, Echo made a sudden strafe to the left and killed its anti-grav system. Wood, stone and earth crunched and crumbled as six multiton legs crashed into the ground, its 'knees' bending as they impacted. An instant later the legs forced the Warform back into the air as they kicked off, sending its hulking mass careening into the side of the charging mech. Echo doubted such a short side tackle would destroy the mech, but drastically changing its course or knocking it off its unstable wheels was a possibility, as was disorienting or injuring the fleshy pilot within the hardened steel.

SPIRITUM

Gerard Biserus

"Even on vacation we can never catch a break, huh?" Gerard chuckled as the squad quickly began tearing down their camp and loading into the truck. Tearing down the camp consisted of Gerard haphazardly throwing any and everything into the back of the truck with waves of telekinesis, pausing only to turn off the grill and fire pit before those too were unceremoniously tossed into the back of the truck. As soon as the back of the truck was clear of flying debris, the squad tumbled in. Kali and Justice climbed into the front seat, while Silje clambered on top of Morden. The rest of them made due with the back of the truck. All in all, they'd cleared up and packed in about 3 minutes. A minute later they were on- or rather off the road and headed in the direction of the crash. "Haven't even been deployed and we're on our first op already. Cell services looks like its shot- if we don’t go help them, I don’t think survivor's will make it long enough for any rescue services. Hell, the only other people who saw the crash is probably Sapple Springs, and they don’t exactly look like they have the manpower for- well, anything."

They called it the Petrified Forest National Preserve. Long before there was a Rassvet or a Vangar, this whole section of the badlands was a beautiful forest. Colossal trees bigger than any skyscraper, huge grazing beasts, and other wonders all growing huge on the Mist. After a time, the waters that once fed the area stopped coming, the ground grew dry and cracked, and things faded away. The only left were facsimiles: minerals and stone that took the shape of once living things. The squad snaked through this landscape of hills and bends. Navigating around the occasional petrified trunk of a tree that lay as if discarded by some giant after being used a toothpick. The Barghest squad arrived at the crash- or one part of the crash anyway- the truck coming to a stop upon the lip of a huge crater and staring down upon the crashed leviathan. The wrecked airship had smashed its nose into the ground like a spear from the heavens, scattering across miles of wreckage. A twisted altar composed of flame and warped metal that lit up the night around it, the long claw mark of the crashed ship large enough to fit the entirety of Sapple Springs within. Heat from fire and mist radiated from all around them and could be felt from the edge.

"Mist is going crazy here." Gerard grunted with a pained wince as he climbed out of the back of the truck, swiping his hands and conjuring a pair of heavy gauntlets that slammed into the ground next to him. Even those that weren’t as magically attuned as Silje or Val could feel it. An otherworldly and oppressive hum that seemed to encase the entire area and made his hair stand on end. It felt almost as if they were swimming on land, the very air itself was thick and lethargic with unseen heft. Ahead of them small flames burst into roaring pillars of fire as they interacted with the mist. In other small areas pieces of debris remained suspended in air as if gravity itself had turned off. In other areas still, small desert flowers bloomed and died within an instant as time sped up around them. There was an old adage about mist reactors: when they broke, reality had a habit of breaking with them. Pieces of metal lay scattered across the ground like warped and distorted bones. There was half a chair here, the broken head of a statue there, and the remnants of a bed and so on. It all seemed far too ornate for any kind of military involvement reminding Gerard more of the estates in Orestia than anything else.

Then of course there were the bodies.

Most were charred beyond recognition but some weren't. Gerard knelt down in front of one of the bodies that had been thrown to the lip of the crater, using his foot to turn the man over. A man maybe in his mid-late thirties, dark hair cut in military fashion, stubble across the jaw. It was the burnt remains of his uniform that drew Gerard’s attention the most. It was a uniform that he and the rest of the Barghest squad had been studying for years: A Vangar officer's uniform.

"Well that's fucking great." Gerard grunted as he gestured to the body. "Vangar Honorguard uniforms. If that doesn't scream diplomatic envoy I don't know what does."

"So much for peace talks, huh?" Gerard remarked dryly, "That being said, I don't recall there being any significant-or any SAM emplacements around Sapple Springs."

Shadowrun: Lost Heir

Dossier: Jack Frost

Jackie "Frost" Hara

Street Name

Frost

Metatype

Troll (Fomorian)

Gender

Female

Age

28

Appearance

Large and imposing, though not quite as large as baseline trolls, Frost is still hard not to notice. Standing in close to 8 feet in height, and weighing somewhere around the ballpark of 400 lbs, Frost is built like a brick shit house of bone and brawn. Despite her stature, Frost actually has a notably soft step and a surprising amount of deft given her size. Though lacking the dermal deposits present on baseline trolls, her pale skin is still hardened like leather hide, and her light brown hair is usually kept short and out of the way, and a crown of short horns circle the edge of her skull. Frost almost always dresses in what could be described as mil-chic. An appropriate mix of techy/edgey style and military utilitarianism.

Awakened

No

Archetype

Street Samurai

Cybernetic or Bioware

• Wired Reflexes
• Orthoskin
• Cyberarm - Right
• Titanium Bone Lacing
• Smartlink
• Datajack

Personality

In a word, frosty. Frost is a prickly, cold, foul mannered bitch, and couldn't give a damn about the opinions of strangers. Pessimistic and realistic, Frost is well aware that this is a dog-eat-dog world, and given a choice, Frost eats, every time. Frost is blunt as a boulder and tells things exactly how she sees them, and her bedside manner is lacking. Still, she is not without morals, and has lines even she won't cross. She keeps collateral damage to an acceptable amount and doesn't like to get 'innocents', particularly children involved in runs.

Like a blizzard, Frost bounces between calm and fury as the situation dictates. Far from emotionless, Frost keeps her passions close to the chest, and outside of snarky or sarcastic quips during runs, keeps things like her explosive temper in check for when she is in a relatively safe place. She has a notable soft spot for her adoptive sister Nadya, and is extremely protective of her. When involved with people she is close to, Frost is notably warmer, though still somewhat grumpy and standoffish.

Equipment

A bit of a gun nut, and a veritable walking armory, the vast majority of Frost's income is spent on guns, and gun accessories, and she typically has something for any given situation. While physically incapable of carrying all the guns she owns at once, Frost regularly tailors her kits for the expected threats on a run- typically a primary, one or two secondaries, and occasionally a heavy weapon if the potential situation demands.

Guns guns guns

• Ares Alpha (Primary) - A best seller for a reason. Powerful, accurate, reliable, and comes with a grenade launcher and smartgun link. What's not to like? Frost's is additionally fully kitted out with an imaging scope, laser sight, suppressor and sling.
• Ingram Smartgun X (Primary) - Another classic. SMG fitted out with a gas vent system, smartgun link and suppressor.
• AK-97 (Primary) - Reliable, durable, replaceable. While one of the less expensive weapons in her arsenal, Frost regardless takes good care of it. Fitted out rather simply with a sling, an externally mounted smart system and extended magazines.
• Panther XXL (Heavy) - The big, mean troll's pet cat. An assault cannon firing tank ammunition, and comes standard with a smartgun system. Frost has additionally kitted her's out with an imaging scope, bipod and sling.
• Terracotta ARMS AM-47 (Heavy) - A troll sized sniper rifle for troll sized problems. Only slightly less obtrusive than the Panther. Comes standard with an imaging scope, bipod and smartgun link.
• Ares Predator V x2 (Secondary) - The iconic runner pistol, with a built-in smartgun system- and about as small a weapon as Frost can handle. Frost's pistols are fitted out with laser sights, gas vent systems and concealed quickdraw holsters.
• Remmington Roomsweeper x2 (Secondary) - Sawn-off Shotgun in a heavy pistol frame. For when a room must be cleared, with little concern about collateral damage. Fitted out with laser sights.
• Knucks (Secondary) - Notable, one of the only nonlethal weapons Frost carries in her arsenal- well, as nonlethal as a giant troll punching you in the head can be. For when a mere fist is not quite enough.

Alongside her chosen weapons, Frost has a set of equipment she'll typically take with her:

• Survival Knife - a handy knife with a suite of extra functions including multitool, micro-lighter, GPS monitor and ARO maps built into it. The blade is coated with an inert chemical than can be activated to shine light. Frost's knife has a little charm from Nadya hanging off the handle.
• Form-fitting Body Armor - basically a second skin, Frost never leaves home without it. Modded to be thermal dampening.
• Armored Jacket - Troll sized heavy jacket. Fitted to be nonconductive and fire resistant.
• Full Body Armor - When social restraints are not present, or when heavy combat is expected, Frost drops the jacket for a full set of body armor and helmet. Chemically sealed, nonconductive and fire resistant. The helmet has flare compensators and noise dampener.
• Ruthenium Polymer Cloak - An active camo cloak to help a big troll appear not as big- though its of very little use while on the move. Meant for maintaining stealth while hunkering down in a sniper nest for long periods of time.
• Goggles - For 'light duty' purposes. Comes with magnification and flare compensators.
• Respirator - For use in conjunction with the goggles in place of a gas mask.
• Commlink - A gift from her younger sister, a supposedly hack and jamproof Transys Avalon comm link. Frost also owns a set of Micro-Transceivers for them as well.
• Fake SIN
  
  • Weapons License
  • Concealed Weapons License
  • Cyberware License
  • Bodyguard Occupation License
• Miscellaneous Gear
  
  • Silver Credstick
  • Standard Credstick x3
  • Datachip
  • Standard Tag x3
  • Sensor Tag x2
  • Stim Patches x2
  • Trauma Patch
  • Medkit R3
  • Medkit R6

Background

Born and subsequently orphaned on the streets of Hong Kong, there weren't a whole lot of prospects for a Sinless Troll other than fight, rob and steal. So that's what she did. Jackie's earliest days were spent struggling for survival. Stealing food from stalls, or mugging the people that caught her. Strong for her size, but still a child, it was a miracle Jackie made it to adolescence without becoming a statistic.

After attempting to rob the wrong- or maybe the right people, Jackie found herself taken in by a small band of paramilitary operators, the 22nd Flying Tigers, a former UCAS marine unit turned mercenary outfit operating out of a small shipping boat out and around the South China Sea. Being a small unit, they found work for her almost immediately. From cleaning and maintaining gear, to sneaking around and scoping things out with binoculars and a commlink. Soon after began the weapons training, rifle drills and target shooting; which Jackie proved to be rather apt at. Jackie was as big as a grown man by the time she was 15, though she never participated in more than light duty until she turned 18, when she became a full fledged member of the unit.

Unfortunately, the story of the Flying Tigers was ultimately cut short. Not with a bang, but with a whimper. A series of missions gone south, dwindling resources, casualties and defection and eventually the Flying Tigers were down to but two, Jackie and the Old Timer that picked her up to begin with. By the time she was 20, the 22nd Flying Tigers were effectively defunct.

It was around then Jackie took her first steps into the world of shadowrunning. Despite her youth, Jackie was still a troll- and a fomorian at that, and therefore more acceptable to the more conscientious eye. With what connections the Old Timer had, Jackie first found work as a hired muscle for rich chaebols out of Korea or independent Chinese businessmen, before graduating to wetwork, gun running and more lucrative bodyguard posts.

A few years into this new life and Jackie- now Frost was met with a strange but familiar circumstance. Like herself years before, someone tried to steal their boat. Finding a kindred spirit in the would-be boat jacker, and also finding a need for more hands on deck, Frost and the Old Timer would adopt Nadhezda, who was quickly renamed Nadya. Frost and the Old Timer would take a hiatus from work to spend the next year or two getting her up to speed, not with the skillset of a rifleman, but of a shadowrunners, and soon they were back in business.

Now 28, Frost has quite a few years of running with Nadya, and a few more years on top of that under her belt. Experienced and well versed in the life, nearing but not quite a seasoned veteran just yet, Frost has had her ups and downs, successes and scrapes. Hoping to break another, dreadfully familiar streak of not-quite-successes, Frost and Wildfire's next job takes them to Portugal to hopefully turn their luck around. While Frost is wary about working for such a small Corp, money is money, and there are bills to be paid.

Shadowrun: Lost Heir

Baring any edits that need to be made, I think Frost is done!

Shadowrun: Lost Heir

@vietmyke Hoi, Frost! We love to see the Trogs represented.

You built what I like to call 'the indestructible troll'. Dodging is more of a suggestion for someone whose bones are titanium laced and whose skin is hardened and, frankly, is a troll. That full suit of body armor will make you feel like a god until something just as nasty as you shows up on the opposition, in which case we all hope and pray that Frosty is the one in the immediate area when things that nasty show up otherwise it will become quite gross quite fast for potential 'squishies' (read: everyone who isn't you).

Side note, there is no license on this sixth world that will legally permit you to carry an Ares Alpha, the Panther XXL, or the AM-47 Rifle. This is just so you know in case you decide to carry the Panther to a business meeting in an office building or something. On a purely joking-observation level due to the sheer size of it, the AM-47 is almost functionally an assault cannon itself and I love that for you. On a gentle nitpicking note, I'm pretty sure the current Ares Predator in 2075 is the Ares Predator V [which makes literally no difference on anything; the Ares Predator of whatever variant is always the standard go-to firearm for those with enough money to have one because Ares makes fraggin' good guns].

On a nostalgic level, I adore seeing Datajacks on non-deckers in the modern wireless world. You can now plug directly into things!...Namely your guns! For if you can't use the wireless smartgun functions! It's honestly a niche thing on tabletop, but for roleplay and narrative purposes I just love to see it. Nobody can hack or brick your eyes/guns if you're taking a few seconds to directly plug into them rather than turn their wireless connections on.

@Fading Memory

Indestructible angry troll was the name of the game 😎 Though generally smart/tactically minded enough to use concepts like cover-as her size allows, and not standing around and taking unnecessary fire.

I was pretty certain weapon licenses wouldn't cover the bigger boys- didn't know the Alpha was also off the table but that's fine too. The licenses were more for the smaller guns anyway. I figure if we're walking into a situation where Frost needs to bring the Alpha or the bigger guns, we're not necessarily caring about legality. Not that its particularly relevant for the rp, but I noticed on the wiki that the damage numbers for the AM-47 were pretty close to the Panther XXL, but I felt obligated to keep the Panther because I made a comment to @Abstract Proxy that Frost was almost certainly a cat person, and there is a joke in there somewhere about a troll and her pet cat/cannon.

I'm a bit unlearned about how matrix stuff works in shadowrun, but having spent enough time with some cybersecurity friends have made me fear basically any and all wireless networks. Closed systems all the way, forever from now until the end of time for me!

Shadowrun: Lost Heir

Wildfire's totally sister, here! Still working on finishing it up.

Dossier: Jack Frost

Jackie "Frost" Hara

Street Name

Frost

Metatype

Troll (Fomorian)

Gender

Female

Age

28

Appearance

Large and imposing, though not quite as large as baseline trolls, Frost is still hard not to notice. Standing in close to 8 feet in height, and weighing somewhere around the ballpark of 400 lbs, Frost is built like a brick shit house of bone and brawn. Despite her stature, Frost actually has a notably soft step and a surprising amount of deft given her size. Though lacking the dermal deposits present on baseline trolls, her pale skin is still hardened like leather hide, and her light brown hair is usually kept short and out of the way, and a crown of short horns circle the edge of her skull. Frost almost always dresses in what could be described as mil-chic. An appropriate mix of techy/edgey style and military utilitarianism.

Awakened

No

Archetype

Street Samurai

Cybernetic or Bioware

• Wired Reflexes
• Orthoskin
• Cyberarm - Right
• Titanium Bone Lacing
• Smartlink
• Datajack

Personality

In a word, frosty. Frost is a prickly, cold, foul mannered bitch, and couldn't give a damn about the opinions of strangers. Pessimistic and realistic, Frost is well aware that this is a dog-eat-dog world, and given a choice, Frost eats, every time. Frost is blunt as a boulder and tells things exactly how she sees them, and her bedside manner is lacking. Still, she is not without morals, and has lines even she won't cross. She keeps collateral damage to an acceptable amount and doesn't like to get 'innocents', particularly children involved in runs.

Like a blizzard, Frost bounces between calm and fury as the situation dictates. Far from emotionless, Frost keeps her passions close to the chest, and outside of snarky or sarcastic quips during runs, keeps things like her explosive temper in check for when she is in a relatively safe place. She has a notable soft spot for her adoptive sister Nadya, and is extremely protective of her. When involved with people she is close to, Frost is notably warmer, though still somewhat grumpy and standoffish.

Equipment

A bit of a gun nut, and a veritable walking armory, the vast majority of Frost's income is spent on guns, and gun accessories, and she typically has something for any given situation. While physically incapable of carrying all the guns she owns at once, Frost regularly tailors her kits for the expected threats on a run- typically a primary, one or two secondaries, and occasionally a heavy weapon if the potential situation demands.

Guns guns guns

• Ares Alpha (Primary) - A best seller for a reason. Powerful, accurate, reliable, and comes with a grenade launcher and smartgun link. What's not to like? Frost's is additionally fully kitted out with an imaging scope, laser sight, suppressor and sling.
• Ingram Smartgun X (Primary) - Another classic. SMG fitted out with a gas vent system, smartgun link and suppressor.
• AK-98 (Primary) - Reliable, durable, replaceable. While one of the less expensive weapons in her arsenal, Frost regardless takes good care of it. Fitted out rather simply with a sling and extended magazines.
• Panther XXL (Heavy) - The big, mean troll's pet cat. An assault cannon firing tank ammunition, and comes standard with a smartgun system. Frost has additionally kitted her's out with an imaging scope, bipod and sling.
• Terracotta ARMS AM-47 (Heavy) - A troll sized sniper rifle for troll sized problems. Only slightly less obtrusive than the Panther. Comes standard with an imaging scope, bipod and smartgun link.
• Ares Predator V x2 (Secondary) - The iconic runner pistol, with a built-in smartgun system- and about as small a weapon as Frost can handle. Frost's pistols are fitted out with laser sights, gas vent systems and concealed quickdraw holsters.
• Remmington Roomsweeper x2 (Secondary) - Sawn-off Shotgun in a heavy pistol frame. For when a room must be cleared, with little concern about collateral damage. Fitted out with laser sights and smartgun links.
• Knucks (Secondary) - Notable, one of the only nonlethal weapons Frost carries in her arsenal- well, as nonlethal as a giant troll punching you in the head can be. For when a mere fist is not quite enough.

Alongside her chosen weapons, Frost has a set of equipment she'll typically take with her:

• Survival Knife - a handy knife with a suite of extra functions including multitool, micro-lighter, GPS monitor and ARO maps built into it. The blade is coated with an inert chemical than can be activated to shine light. Frost's knife has a little charm from Nadya hanging off the handle.
• Form-fitting Body Armor - basically a second skin, Frost never leaves home without it. Modded to be thermal dampening.
• Armored Jacket - Troll sized heavy jacket. Fitted to be nonconductive and fire resistant.
• Full Body Armor - When social restraints are not present, or when heavy combat is expected, Frost drops the jacket for a full set of body armor and helmet. Chemically sealed, nonconductive and fire resistant. The helmet has flare compensators and noise dampener.
• Goggles - For 'light duty' purposes. Comes with magnification and flare compensators.
• Respirator - For use in conjunction with the goggles in place of a gas mask.
• Commlink - A gift from her younger sister, a supposedly hack and jamproof Transys Avalon comm link. Frost also owns a set of Micro-Transceivers for them as well.
• Fake SIN
  
  • Weapons License
  • Concealed Weapons License
  • Cyberware License
• Miscellaneous Gear
  
  • Silver Credstick
  • Standard Credstick
  • Stim Patches x2
  • Trauma Patch
  • Medkit

Background

Born and subsequently orphaned on the streets of Hong Kong, there weren't a whole lot of prospects for a Sinless Troll other than fight, rob and steal. So that's what she did. Jackie's earliest days were spent struggling for survival. Stealing food from stalls, or mugging the people that caught her. Strong for her size, but still a child, it was a miracle Jackie made it to adolescence without becoming a statistic.

After attempting to rob the wrong- or maybe the right people, Jackie found herself taken in by a small band of paramilitary operators, the 22nd Flying Tigers, a former UCAS marine unit turned mercenary outfit operating out of a small shipping boat out and around the South China Sea. Being a small unit, they found work for her almost immediately. From cleaning and maintaining gear, to sneaking around and scoping things out with binoculars and a commlink. Soon after began the weapons training, rifle drills and target shooting; which Jackie proved to be rather apt at. Jackie was as big as a grown man by the time she was 15, though she never participated in more than light duty until she turned 18, when she became a full fledged member of the unit.

Unfortunately, the story of the Flying Tigers was ultimately cut short. Not with a bang, but with a whimper. A series of missions gone south, dwindling resources, casualties and defection and eventually the Flying Tigers were down to but two, Jackie and the Old Timer that picked her up to begin with. By the time she was 20, the 22nd Flying Tigers were effectively defunct.

It was around then Jackie took her first steps into the world of shadowrunning. Despite her youth, Jackie was still a troll- and a fomorian at that, and therefore more acceptable to the more conscientious eye. With what connections the Old Timer had, Jackie first found work as a hired muscle for rich chaebols out of Korea or independent Chinese businessmen, before graduating to wetwork, gun running and more lucrative bodyguard posts.

A few years into this new life and Jackie- now Frost was met with a strange but familiar circumstance. Like herself years before, someone tried to steal their boat. Finding a kindred spirit in the would-be boat jacker, and also finding a need for more hands on deck, Frost and the Old Timer would adopt Nadhezda, who was quickly renamed Nadya. Frost and the Old Timer would take a hiatus from work to spend the next year or two getting her up to speed, not with the skillset of a rifleman, but of a shadowrunners, and soon they were back in business.

Now 28, Frost has quite a few years of running with Nadya, and a few more years on top of that under her belt. Experienced and well versed in the life, nearing but not quite a seasoned veteran just yet, Frost has had her ups and downs, successes and scrapes. Hoping to break another, dreadfully familiar streak of not-quite-successes, Frost and Wildfire's next job takes them to Portugal to hopefully turn their luck around. While Frost is wary about working for such a small Corp, money is money, and there are bills to be paid.

Shadowrun: Lost Heir

@Abstract Proxy will also be dropping a street sam 😎