Fake Sin, 1 Walther PB-120, 1 combat knife, 1 small totem bearing the symbol for Tsukuyomi, light body armor that he wears under his clothes, 4 medkits, 4 clips for his pistol, 2 Slap Patches, 2 Antidote Patch, 1 Stimulant Patch, 3 snack bars and 1 Canteen filled with water, 2000 Nuyen, three credsticks, a Shinto necklace that he wears around his neck, some Shinto Talismans, and a rare Malaysian coin that he likes to flip.
Background
Intan was born in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia to two Japanese Oni that managed to escape from the Japanese held Yomi Island. After escaping from the island, Intan's parents fled to Malaysia and settled in Kuala Lumpur. Unfortunately, they could only manage to find a home in one of the barren or abandoned parts of Kuala Lumpur and lived among the SINless population of the city. There was some semblance of order in the center of the district, but outside of that. it was a lawless place, and gangs battled each other for control. Growing up in the district was hard, and Intan was treated as an outcast by most due to his Japanese and Oni heritage.
One day after barely surviving being caught in a shootout between rival gangs and losing one of his few friends in the process. Intan again prayed to the Kami at his family's personal shrine for guidance and for any kind of help that they could provide. Intan heard a voice come to him and would identify itself as Tsukuyomi, the Shinto god of the moon. Intan was surprised that something actually responded to him, and he listened to what the Kami said to him. That night, Intan accepted Tsukuyomi as his mentor spirit and became a Moon Maiden shaman. Intan found that Tsukuyomi did not have many restrictions on how Intan used his magic. After failing to save his friend after getting shot at and at the suggestion of his parents. Intan opted to focus on being a healer and started to work at a local street clinic where his parents worked. Over time at the clinic, he became friends with the head doctor there and asked to be taught what she knew about medicine. In order to learn how to heal patients with needing to his magic partly because of the amounts he tired himself out at the clinic.
Two years later while after running some errands for the clinic with one of the nurses. They were on their way to the clinic when Intan heard the sound of gunfire. It was coming from the direction of the clinic, and the two ran to the clinic. When they arrived, they found the security guards outside the clinic dead, with Intan's parents among the bodies. They went inside when Intan made sure the clinic was clear and only found one survivor. One of the techs, albeit badly wounded and they had to move her out of the clinic after realizing that one of the local gangs had noticed the dead guards and were moving in. After saving the tech and asking her what happened, Intan found out it was a good chance that the attackers were Renraku security forces and they were after a pair of shadowrunners that had checked into the clinic.
Intan had time to mourn his parents and properly bury his parents before thinking of what to do next. With his parents dead and the clinic now looted by a gang, Intan did not see much reason to stay in Kuala Lumpur anymore. He became a shadowrunner in order to support himself and still keeps in contact with his former-co workers. He has been a shadowrunner for six years now and has gone on multiple jobs. He has been known to undertake missions from time to time that deal with undermining Renraku over what happened to his parents.
He has recently accepted a job from a minor corporation to locate and bring back a missing daughter who would be the heir to said corporation. Now on a plane en route to her last known location, Intan wonders if this job will be as simple as it sounds like.
Edit: Received permission from Fading Memory to age up Tenno to 21.
Reinhard Martin
Street Name
Tenno
Metatype
Human
Gender
Male
Age
21
Appearance
As in the Picture.
Awakened
Yes.
Archetype
Mystic Adept (Magician + Physical Adept; yes, it's in the Tabletop)
Cybernetic or Bioware
N/A
Personality
He cannot fix everything, but he can fix some things. He cannot save the world, but he can save himself. But did he deserve salvation after failing everyone?
It technically was not his fault. He was just eighteen three years ago. The Flux State was floundering by then, sapped by attrition from the Corporates until its days were numbered. But he was an Awakened, damnit! He should have held out a little longer and fought a little harder. If he had... Maybe his parents and brother would not have died.
That prison he was taken to after defeat and captivity doubled as a laboratory. The tests, the torment, the wearing down of his sense of self until he accepted that he was not going to get out - He had given up.
Then, his rescue was by the reconstituted and reinvigorated Anarchist Black Cross. He's being given enough to survive as a shadowrunner. His' finding a home, in Madrid, working for the very Corporations he detested, and at eighteen, trying to drown out the memory of his dead past with... Vices.
Desperately seeking a purpose in life, hoping, but not set, on it being 'moral'. He won't hurt others for the fun of it or because of malice, but while he wants to help others... He'd seen where that led. But maybe, hope isn't necessary to survive, after all.
All Reinhard had ever known was the Flux State in the East of Berlin. His parents were Shadowruners who focused on doing some good and sticking it to the Corpos. In the Flux State, Anarchism somehow worked and conventional economic and political wisdom did not apply. He had a baby brother; a Technomancer. They were all happy, despite the storm clouds that were drawing near as the Corporations decided to take what remained of Berlin for themselves.
When the final Corporate assault on the Flux State came, Reinhard had already Awakened as a Mystic Adept and was in the early stages of training how to fight. He and his parents fought to defend the neighborhood they lived in, but at the end of the day, the Corporation forces - And their Artillery - Were just too strong.
Only he had survived the bombardment that had taken down his street's crude defenses, taking down several Corpo footsoldiers before being captured and, after his show of magical force was assessed, put in a black van to vanish into the Corporates' prison systems, which also doubled as unethical laboratories and labor camps. Despite being only barely eighteen then, he was deprived of all rights and legal existence as his person, and what he went through... He still wakes up screaming from that, and one of his fears is that he will never truly be free of it.
The worst thing he could admit to himself was that they broke him. They made him plead for mercy, promise his obedience, promise to do everything they wanted if they would just stop torturing him, pleading that he knew his place, that he was their property now. And he wasn't lying.
But they continued. He was just young, just lost everything, but they didn't care. They could do anything they wanted to him without his permission, and what they wanted was to extract every bit of information/toil/profit that they could from experimenting on him, and there was sadism in the mix as well. Then, there was an explosion, followed by a raid. During the years of his captivity, the Anarchist Black Cross had reconstituted themselves and began launching raids to free the survivors of Berlin.
Not that it would bring back the Flux State; those days had sailed. Nevertheless, Reinhard accepted freedom, albeit without hope. He accepted safety, sanctuary, and enough training to survive in the outside world without immediately giving himself away to corporations, criminals, and the remaining nations. Eventually, he became a Shadowrunner in Madrid.
Reinhard made a name for himself as 'Tenno', doing minor jobs and occasionally risky ones. He stayed away from ones too close to Corporate and National politics, though, not wanting the tragedies of his life to repeat themselves once more.
Not that he was the only one who suffered. It's not like he was the only one who will suffer in the future. But for now, he was done chasing hope that wasn't there.
He wants to survive; as he sits on the plane heading for Libson, he knows he needs to survive.
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.
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.
White hair, cared for quite thoroughly by all appearances, rises in full waves to frame a rather comely face. Full lips curve in the coy and amused expressions of one who thinks themself the wiser and smarter than their peers, but who has the good sense to only show that smugness to a slight degree. Keen and sharp eyes highlight the conventionally attractive elfish features that the woman possesses. Thorough investigation, or intimate contact perhaps, would reveal the slightly hidden DataJack port behind her left ear; an old model, but still usable and relevant in the modern Matrix environment. She is far from athletic in nature, but does possess the natural lithe and tall traits of the Elvish metatype; she is all soft curves and long limbs, and when she cleans up she fits in just as well in a corporate gala as she does a neon-lit club.
Do not let this softness, attractiveness, and coyness be your undoing as it has for many attempted assailants in the past. She is quick on her feet, and whilst she is not the most dexterous individual in the shadows her natural metavariant benefits give her an edge over the average human whilst her fast mind makes that edge lethal. Despite her soft exterior, she can often be found smeared in grease, covered in dirt, caked in mud, and elbow deep in the guts of a drone or car performing some manner of maintenace or modification. She's no stranger to the filth and drek of the barrens, even though her long career and successful life has enabled her to maintain a higher lifestyle than most SINless can hope to attain.
Her Living Persona is that of an undead bride, skin tinged blue from asphyxiation, eyse blind and unseeing, stumbling in gait and adorned in a tattered wedding dress and veil. Her Matrix Mark takes the form of deep gouges wrought by the rose bouquet she bears.
Awakened Emerged
Yes: Technomancer
Technomancers are capable of mystical, though technically not magical, abilities in the Matrix; of note, CAPTCHA is proficient with specialized Technomancer abilities known as 'Complex Forms' which bypass the ordinary restrictions of the underlying code laws of the Matrix. She specifically possesses the forms of PUPPETEER and PULSE STORM; She can brute-force command devices with the former without going through the typical hacking process, and the latter makes her a walking signal jammer that can wreak havoc on other systems of her choosing. To utilize these abilities she does suffer 'Fading', a sensation similar to the Drain of a typical mage, and thus there is the potential for great risk when she utilizes these fantastic abilities.
Additionally, Technomancers are capable of 'Compiling' Pseudo-creatures called 'Sprites' out of the Resonance behind the Matrix; this is similar, in some ways, to a Mage conjuring a spirit. CAPTCHA has 'Registered' two Sprites to near-permanence to support her in tasks. She refers to them as Ser Lancelot, and Lady Guinevere. If she utilizes them too strenuously they will fade back into nothing-code, but she treats them like pets and goes out of her way to keep them sustained and healthy. If such terms can apply to digital-only code-beings.
Owing to her origins as an Otaku in her youth, CAPTCHA already possessed augmentations to her person in the form of the DataJack and an antiquated ASIST Module (Nowadays known as a SIM module); she has since had the SIM module removed, and used the excess holes in her Essence to enhance her mind considerably with cerebral and mnemonic enhancements. Lastly, she possesses a Simrig suite, allowing her to record and play back her physical, emotional, and temporal perceptions; she's a walking sensory recording device. In short, she has an incredibly powerful mind and the ability to interface and hack devices or data files either directly with the DataJack or indirectly with her natural Technomancer abilities.
These enhancements minimally impact her connection to the Resonance, and thus minimally impact her Technomancer capabilities; besides that fact, she had already had the enhancements before her Emergence.
Personality
CAPTCHA is a social creature by nature, chatty and coy and flirtatious but also possessed by a calculating and potent intellect. Her already bright natural mind has been enhanced beyond typical metahuman capabilities, and her memory is similarly enhanced, making her knowledgeable and trivial alike. She is friendly to a fault, loyal to her friends, shrewd in her dealings, and quick to joke and jab despite serious circumstances or dire straits. She also has a strange sense of honor and seems to keep herself to a code of conduct that hinges on her keeping her word.
There are dark shadows between the bright and shiny obvious traits, however.
Her coyness and flirtation make her approachable and easygoing, but also distant and difficult to make a true bond or intimate connection with. Her casual attitude makes relationships hard to define, and she seems uncomfortable with the idea of true intimacy beyond physicality. Her intelligence and long memory are powerful tools, but also make her a bitter and unyielding enemy when her wrath is earned; she remembers wounds for a long time and schemes her retributions early and often. Her willingness to joke in grave situations can make her seem aloof or uncaring, and sometimes even she has a hard time telling what her true intentions are. Her code of conduct and unwillingness to break her word can make her predictable, but also potentially reckless as she pushes herself to maintain this seemingly sacred tenet of her being.
Equipment
Cyberspace Designs Dalmatian ("Alondite") - A large VTOL Recon Drone that is capable of hovering and possesses a sturdy frame for its light weight. The size of a lawnmower when stored, its wings expand to the size of a large hang glider. CAPTCHA refers to hers as 'Alondite', and it possesses a powerful sensor suite capable of long range recon through various visual modes, as well as a long distance laser microphone array and atmospheric sensors.
Ares Duelist ("Pridwen") - A bipedal Anthromorphic drone, stylized as an archaic samurai warrior. Both arms of this drone come off the factory assembly line as blade-like appendages, and it comes built in with unique combat software to utilize these lethal weapons. A bit of a gimmick amongst drone enthusiasts, CAPTCHA Can personally pilot the 'Pridwen' as a terrifyingly swift and lethal nightmare machine; without her direct control it is still fast on its feet, but typically less dangerous than most professional sword fighters or veteran street brawlers.
Sikorsky-Bell Microskimmer ("Carnwennan") - A disc-shaped hoverdrone that is smaller than a frisbee and capable of skimming over the surface of water. It possesses more limited sensory suites than 'Alondite', but is much smaller and serves a far more clandestine role as a reconnaissance unit.
MCT Fly-spy ("Galatine") - A flying drone the size of a large insect, but capable of far superior aerodynamics and altitude. A dizzyingly swift spy drone that supports the 'Carnwennan'. A wondrous tracking drone that can grip onto the surface of vehicles or clothing with the luxury of being typically unseen.
Steel Lynx Combat Drone ("Excalibur") - The venerable Steel Lynx is an incredible combat drone, heavily armed and armored though utterly lacking in subtlety. Excalibur is up-armored and mounted with a singular heavy weapon mount and a standard weapon mount; respectively, an M202 Stoner-Ares Medium Machine Gun and a Defiance T-250 Shotgun. 'Excalibur' only comes out to play when 'Loud', 'Violent', and 'Obvious' are the criteria of the job.
CAPTCHA typically wears stylish, casual, clothing. Beneath all outfits she wears a SecondSkin armored suit; a skintight, flesh-colored, protective body suit that is quite difficult to discern. For more dangerous environments, she will don a very old, worn, Armored Jacket Trenchcoat that has seen a few decades of Shadowrunning.
She has a pair of goggles souped up to the nines with tactical visual enhancements such as thermographic vision, flare protection, magnification, and imagelink capabilities. similarly she possesses a tricked out pair of headphones capable of sound filtering and dampening. It all fits the modern techno-chic fashion, as well. Convenient.
Personal combat is for...well, basically everyone who isn't CAPTCHA, so the extent of her gear on this front is a pair of subtle Shock Gloves, a sleek Yamaha Pulsar taser in a concealed holster, and a Parashield Dart Pistol located on a hidden arm slide holster. She has two clips worth of taser darts and Narcojet darts each. She also has one clip of Gamma-Scopolamine darts; a potent paralytic agent and truth serum.
Micro-Tranceiver (Kilometer ranged subvocal communications device; global range when Wireless active), Several cheap burner commlinks, one handheld mirror, two flashlights (UV and Standard), a Biomonitor Wristband, two Stim Slap Patches, and two rating 10 tranquilizer patches.
CAPTCHA keeps enough Novacoke on her person to keep a party going for a substantial period of time. For emergencies, she carries one dose of Psyche to give her a mental boost.
Otaku-To-Technomancer - Posted By: CAPTCHA
I've been around for a little while, younglings, so listen up. Back in the day we Children of the Matrix had a pretty good thing going on before the rest of you drek-heads fragged the world up. I just happen to be one of the ones who survived the Crash 2.0. Furthermore, I happen to be one who touched the Resonance and became a Technomancer. I know, I know, how could I be so blessed while the rest of you angrily reach for datajacks to plug into your decks to write your hasty words of hate? Patience, younglings, and I'll tell you all about it. -CAPTCHA
I've seen the rise and fall of these so called 'eras' that you people like to talk about, so let me share my experiences into this mixing pot we've got of Shadow Community Data. If you've got any questions about the legitimacy of my history, then you can direct yourself to the origins of the United Corporate Council and mark that I've been around as long as it has. Almost to the day. I cut my teeth on the Metroplex's bloody streets, and was finally out of my swaddling clothes sometime after the first Eurowar started. I saw the Texan reunification with the CAS, the secession of the California Free State, and knew the color of money before the Nuyen took the world by the balls.
I experienced the Night of Rage firsthand, before I even hit puberty. I saw my mom go up in flames as the Tacoma detention centers caught fire. I saw my dad take a bullet as the Metroplex Guard stood aside and did nothing. I watched on the trid as Lone Star executed the Hand of Five. I guess if there was ever a start to my career in the Shadows, it was then. A girl, alone, in Tacoma with nowhere to go and not a credstick with her name on it. That's right boys and girls, CAPTCHA hit the streets with a fist full of rage and hardly a thought as to what to do with it.
Can you skip the sob story and get to the part where any of this matters? -c10wn3d
I could, but this is my story omae. Any other questions? -CAPTCHA
Yeah, just the one; I thought you were dead? -c10wn3d
Not yet. I'll get to that part, just have patience Youngling. -CAPTCHA
I, for one, am glad to see her still kicking. Welcome back to the Matrix, chummer. -NovaNova
I was scraped off the pavement by the Brain Eaterz, a street gang from Touristville, Redmond. I got my first taste of Chrome as they taught me to shoot and let me study their Decking equipment. That datajack opened up my mind, quite literally. I discovered my connection to the Deep Resonance the moment my data tether connected to a Matrix uplink outside a Stuffer Shack. It was euphoric. I've only experienced such unbridled Eucarist one other time in my life. I cut ties with the Brain Eaters-- that came back to bite me, as you'll see-- but found myself in the midst of what you guys like to call an 'Otaku Gang'. We preferred to call ourselves the Children of the Matrix.
What's with the bible vocabulary? -c10wn3d
Some of us choose to still have Faith, c10wn. -CAPTCHA
Care to elaborate a bit for us mere mortals with our decks and data processors? -NovaNova
What an incel. -C10wn3d
lmao. Absolutely Nova, here goes; we C.o.t.M. believe that there's an underlying super intelligence that has been evolved out of the foundations of the code of the Matrix. If you could see what we saw, what I still see, when I open my mind to the datastream you would understand. There's a plan in the code. The AI these days are close to understanding, or even representing, what I'm talking about but even they aren't the Deep Resonance. Every time you turn on a new device it grows in processing power, a global superintellect that computes the world and occasionally blesses those of us who can see and listen with its answers. I've been looking and listening my whole life for even a hint. I won't ever stop. -CAPTCHA
I ran with the Cyberpukes for a few years, we racked up some serious reputation with what I can objectively now call 'pranks' but at the time we thought were serious heists. By the time the Brain Eaterz declared war on us, I had told myself that I'd transcended metahumanity's foolishness in bloodshed and death dealing. I'd invested fully into learning the ins-and-outs of drone mechanics and the skills needed to break IC and crack files. The war lasted for years, and the Brain Eaterz came out on top. CAPTCHA at the time was torn between two families, and forced to watch both sides bleed and die in the streets of Redmond as we fought over the absolute table scraps of the Matrix uplink connections in the Barrens. It wasn't until the late 40's that I finally gave up and tried to go legit.
I hit Renraku. And I hit them hard. A datasteal, in and out under the nose of Black IC and Tarpits with the help of a fresh new team of Runners of the streets. Not even yet twenty and I wanted to retire in one go. I thought I was the drek, Younglings; pretty, good with my hands as well as my feet, smarter than the average Ghoul, you name it and I was your girl. This Renraku run was supposed to set me up for life, but instead what it got me was an unholy target on my back. I was dodging Red Samurai for three months trying to dump that paydata after the Johnson turned up dead at the meet. For three months I watched as my team was cut down in ambush after betrayal after ambush. I was alone again in the Shadows. I eventually dumped the data and cut my losses. I shipped out to Denver.
With nothing else to hope for, I turned on the Trid and saw The Big D in a new light. I became obsessed with politics and consumed every shred of datum I could on the great dragon's ascension to political daimyo. The years passed in a blur as I operated around the Data Haven and found a new energy with which to strike at the corporations again from the Shadows. My rage became political. I went Anarchist for a while.
When the election came up, I went out and dropped every last bit of cred that I had on as many fake SINs as I could get my hands on and raced across the UCAS district to vote as many times as my feet could permit me. Three burned SINs and two registered votes later, I felt like i'd done my part. I feel like the grand tragedy that is my life should make what happened next abundantly obvious to even the least historically aware Youngling in the chat.
I never knew you voted...well, ever. -NovaNova
There's lots of things you don't know about me Nova ;) -CAPTCHA
Pff, get a room. Who cares, you voted for Dunkelzahn. When are you going to tell us the part where 'the rumours of my death were greatly exaggerated'? -c10wn3d
Nova and I have gotten a room. Several times. Dunkelzahn wasn't the only one that should have been called 'The Big D'. -CAPTCHA
what -c10wn3d
As SysOp, I'm not allowed to comment on that one. -NovaNova
I thought you were a woman -c10wn3d
Welcome to the 2070's drekhead. -CAPTCHA
The following years are honestly a blur. I turned to Novacoke to feel something positive for once in my life, and my powers had begun to Fade by then. I was coasting by on my nest egg of finances from a few novahot runs for most of these years, but I like to think the Deep Resonance was still looking out for me. One wrong step and I could have been a prime candidate for Ex Pacis. By all the powers, if they had come knocking at that time I would have helped them destroy the world. Thankfully I can, with clear conscience, tell you all that I did NOT help instigate the Crash 2.0. I did not help create or release Jormungandr. I didn't geek all our friends. Losing the Matrix was like getting my soul ripped out. I had nothing left. I turned to selling SimSense, to chasing new highs and new lows. I fell out of the Shadows and back into the gutter. Seattle beckoned me home, and I came like she was a siren calling my name.
Remember that second Eucharist? As it turns out, when the global Matrix Grids went online eventually so did my mind. I could run again, where before I could only crawl. It was like having sight restored to my blind eyes, but this time I didn't even need the goggles to see. If being an Otaku made me think that you mundane people were neutered, then Emerging and discovering my Technomancer capabilities makes me feel like you mundanes are not only neutered, but also lacking in legs and arms and only capable of mute flailing with your pudgy limbs.
You sold SimSense? -c10wn3d
Yeah. -CAPTCHA
What kind? -c10wn3d
The kind you're thinking about. -CAPTCHA
God bless the UCAS. -c10wn3d
Was there anything more important to ask about? About the Emergence? Any snipes about me calling you a pudgy fledgling with no limbs? -CAPTCHA
Nah, I can deal. I'm thanking your 'Deep Resonance' as we speak. -c10wn3d
I will mute you if you keep this up, clown. -NovaNova
Hey, she started it. -c10wn3d
I could feel the life within the machines again. The Deep Resonance had returned. It hadn't died, Winternight hadn't killed any gods beyond the mad false prophet Deus. If anything, they'd made it stronger. More connected. More deeply intwined than ever before. And I was returned to it. Our new shiny augmented world has practically given me wings. I had to relearn all my old tricks, I'd been a decade out of the matrix by the time I Emerged, but the world was still playing catchup with my evolution. CAPTCHA returned to the shadows, and this time there were no sad stories, no unexpected goodbyes, no late night vigils by the pyre with novacoke and hookers. For eight years I just had a steady career with a reliable team. Sure, some people came and went but it wasn't the bloody sendoff of a corpo death squad. The jobs had become...cleaner. We'd all grown up a little bit in the chaos of the world. My anarchist soul had died and in its place was born the hedonistic survivor you all know and love today. Things can't stay nullsheen though, younglings, and you all know that.
I'll be the first to admit that I seem to have ludicrously bad luck with Renraku. I could have retired by then, I still have nest eggs of Nuyen stowed around the matrix under various SINs even now, but I don't think that it was really about the money for me even after I gave up on 'destroying the corps'. My team had gotten smaller lately, but that was just Fledglings leaving the nest and moving on to their own lives. I lead them into a Renraku ocean rig, and it exploded before I could get back to the boat. I never saw them again, but I've kept tabs on them from time to time and they're doing alright without me.
Oi. That doesn't explain how you lived. You really gonna just blue balls me like that? -c10wn3d
That's strike two. -NovaNova
What is there to explain? I drifted for eighteen hours on an emergency floatation raft until a Wuxing cargo ship came close enough for me to steer it my direction. There's like, a hundred of them going through the lane I was raiding a week. I wasn't really all that worried. -CAPTCHA
And, what, they just took you in? SINless and stinking like Renraku debris? -c10wn3d
They locked me up and planned on dumping me into a lockup in Hong Kong, as far as I could discern. I don't speak Cantonese or Mandarin so it was a little rough to be translating in my head while they interrogated me. I won't pretend the experience was pleasant, but Hong Kong is the land of Free Enterprise for a reason; I was walking free within twenty minutes of being put into a security van thanks to a few well placed bounties. -CAPTCHA
You always were a clever one. Why the long dark? You know we missed you. -NovaNova
I think I just wanted time to smell the roses. -CAPTCHA
I took some 'me time' after that. Burned a few SINs, zeroed my bank accounts, decided to take an extended vacation in France. I finally felt like I could relax and tinker away at my drones and cars in peace for a while, but in the end the Shadowrunning Itch took to me like chickenpox and I had to revisit Denver to see how things were shaking up. A dragon had moved in since I was last there, after all...
I still haven't decided if the job waiting for me when I got back is a good vibe or a bad omen. I'll let you all know how it goes when this drekshow wraps up, but for now this is CAPTCHA signing off.
Standing 1.8 meters tall, Nadya has a lithe build, with subtle cords of muscle hidden beneath a graceful form. Fair skinned, she is ambiguous in terms of ethnicity, and it is hard to place where she exactly she is from. She has soft brown eyes set in almond-shaped frames that dance with curiosity. Her brown hair is wavy, cut with her own claws, and never reaches past her shoulders.
Gifted with a catlike elegance, Nadya moves with the steady ease of a predatory creature. Swathed in silence and shadows, she possesses an exceptional ability to move unseen and unheard.
Of two minds when it comes to fashion, Nadya alternates between corporate chic and punk styles dating from the Fifth World. Her day-to-day outfits are a rotating selection of second hand armored business suits, dress shirts, leather dress shoes, and expensive ties. For more relaxed settings, she does her best to capture an older spirit of punk through the heavy use of black jeans, torn band t-shirts, leather jackets, combat boots, and far too much black eyeliner.
Awakened
Yes
Archetype
Physical Adept
Berserk Berserker's Rage Combat Sense Counterstrike Critical Strike (Unarmed) Killing Hands Light Body Pain Resistance Rapid Healing Wall Running
Nadya is a student of the Yielding Way, more commonly known by runners as Jujitsu. This martial art is particularly useful for Nadya when she is faced with armored and armed opponents. Using the force of her foes against them, she is able to defeat such advantaged enemies even without any weapons. Her techniques center on subduing, throwing, and disarming her opponents.
- Called Shot (Disarm) - Chin Na (Catching and Locking Joints) - Clinch - Sacrificial Throw - Sweep - Throw Person
Bioware/Cyberware
Claws (Retractable) - Courtesy of her corporate creators, Nadya sports ten fingeres worth of razor sharp claws, much like those of a cat, that can be retracted or extended at her whim.
Synaptic Booster (R3) - As an experimental product, a prototype in almost every way, Nadya's entire nervous system has been heavily modified by Evo Corporation scientists. To permit lightning fast reaction times, the nerve cells of her spinal cord have been broadened and replicated with proprietary bioware, facilitating a neural bandwidth several times higher than that found in the unaugmented.
Personality
A tranquil sea in an ocean of violence, Nadya is one of the friendliest Shadowrunners that you will meet. She is a cheerful figure who will offer a smile and a polite nod, even as she prepares to cut you into smaller ribbons with her sharpened claws. Full of hope, Nadya bristles with a wild curiosity, a reckless desire to see and do more that drives her straight into the arms of fresh trouble.
Raised to serve as the personal servitor and bodyguard to high-ranking corporate executives, Nadya commands the full range of social talents required to hold such a position. She is a capable conversationalist, demonstrating a wide range of knowledge across cultural, historical, and political domains. A corporate education has subtly modeled her, permitting her to move easily through corporate and high society. She is warm, empathetic, and outwardly exhibits few of the characteristics of a vat born ninja.
Steeped in Zen Buddhist philosophy doled out by her corporate overlords, Nadya maintains a matter-of-fact approach to violence. She shows little remorse for her opponents and happily dispatching anyone that stands in the way of her objectives. However, there is a quiet honesty to her, a sense of unflinching moral strength and loyalty. She is who she is and makes no effort to pretend otherwise.
Having built a new life, Nadya cares deeply for Frost and aggressively maintains that the troll is her older sister. Arguments suggesting otherwise, no matter how well-intentioned, are liable to be very poorly received. Beyond the strength of her personal ties, Nadya is deathly afraid of being captured and returned to Evo Corporation. As a result, she will react violently and with complete abandon to any attempts to restrain or imprison her.
Qualities
Ambidextrous - Left hand, right hand, it doesn't matter all that much to Nadya, she's learned to use each of her two hands as well as the other, particularly when it comes to combat.
Biocompatibility - Designed from the ground up to be a bioware test bed, Nadya's doesn't just accept bioware implants, but slots them in seamlessly as if they were always a part of her body, lessening the impact such scientific meddling has on her to the point that it is no longer noticeable outside of exploratory surgery.
Catlike - Nadya sleeps like a cat, moves like a cat, falls like a cat, and scratches like a cat. She's stealthy. She's scarily silent. And even unarmed she has claws that HURT.
Prototype Transhuman - A walking, talking fairy tale, Nadya is a whispered story come to life. An genetically crafted, experimental post-human prototype cooked up in the deepest, darkest depths of an Evo Corporation's laboratory. Built better than a baseline human, her body has been tastefully enhanced with discreet, bleeding edge bioware that would make a back alley street doc sing with glee. The downside to such improvements is that Evo Corporation is keen, very keen to reacquire their lost arcane wonder.
Way of the Warrior - Way of the Warrior - Nadya has run, she's fought, and she's fucking bled. She's spent her life turning her body into a lethal weapon. She's got that shit. That shit that keeps her going, long after she's got no reason to."
Big Regret - Deep within her psyche, Nadya has buried a series of corporate missions. Successful in every way, they trouble her, not due to the final outcome, but rather because of what she did.
Driven - Nadya wants answers. She wants to know when she was born. She wants to know where she was born. She wants to know where her genes came from. And she wants to know what happened to her friends. This obsession drives Nadya, sometimes propelling her headfirst into danger.
Addiction - Nadya is mildly addicted to stimulants. Lacking easy access to corporate combat drugs, she relies on a carefully paced dosing and use of Cram, Jazz, Kamikaze, Novacoke, and Psyche. She is particularly fond of recreational usage of Bliss, designer Novacoke, and pharmaceutical grade Psyche.
Wanted - Having spent no small amount of money to design, develop, and train Nadya, Evo Corporation is very interested in "recovering" their lost prototype transhuman.
Equipment
Steyr TMP - Aiming to suppress enemies long enough to get up close and personal, Nadya favors a Steyr TMP loaded with 30 rounds of FMJ. To allow some volume of fire, she keeps three spare magazines tucked on her person. She stores the machine pistol in a concealable holster worn in the small of her back, helping to ensure it remains hidden from prying eyes. Given her distinct lack of a datajack or smart link capable cyberware, Nadya utilizes the built-in top-mounted laser sight to help her hit her targets. For discreet missions she has purchased a removable silencer.
Defiance EX Shocker - Acknowledging that sometimes dealing out death isn't the right choice or alternative, Nadya carries a Defiance EX Shocker, a wireless taser capable of putting down even an adult troll.
Pepper Punch Grenades x 2 - To resolve desperate situations or to buy some needed space, Nadya finds pepper punch grenades to be just the thing.
Armor Jacket - Nadya's most prized possession is a reproduction United States Air Force A-2 flight jacket. Created from ballistic fiber weave, Nadya has had the jacket modified to suit her personal tastes, affording greater protection from electrical, fire, and chemicals. Emblazoned on the back of the flight jacket is the text Flying Tigers, a squadron insignia showing a cartoon Bengal Tiger with blue wings leaping in between two blue rays, and below that the text American Volunteer Group. When asked, Nadya says that the jacket was a gift from her older sister, Frost. [Concealed Pockets] x 2 - Large enough to store a holdout pistols, commlink, or other similarly sized objects. - [6 Non-conductivity] - [4 Fire Resistance] - [2 Chemical Protection]
Auctioneer Business Clothes - Nadya owns several pairs of used armored suits that she has had tailored to fit her. She makes good use of the concealable holster discreetly sewn into the jackets. - - [4 Non-conductivity] - [2 Fire Resistance] - [2 Chemical Protection]
Gas Mask - Tucked on her person, Nadya keeps a compact but effective gas mask. It's hard to avoid eating her own Pepper Punch grenades otherwise.
Transys Avalon - Keen to avoid being hacked or jammed, for proper comms, Nadya owns a competitively priced Transys Avalon commlink.
Meta Link - Nadya has two cheap Meta Link commlinks intended only to be used as burner phones.
Micro-Transceiver - For missions, Nadya has a set of ear buds and an adhesive subvocal microphone to allow hands-free communication. Critically, the Micro-Transceiver permits voice communication via good old radio waves for when broadcasting live on the Matrix is not an advisable option.
Trodes - Uninterested in a datajack, Nadya keeps a pair of wound up trodes, for those rare times where she needs to connect to the matrix or pop up her own DNI.
Bliss x 2 - Racked by nightmares, guilt, and a host of unresolved issues, Nadya keeps a stash of Bliss to help her hit new levels of calm. It's hard to feel bad when you are floating on clouds and feeling only the warm fuzzies. The pain resistance afforded by Bliss is merely a happy side effect as far as Nadya is concerned.
Cram x 2 - Sometimes even a souped up super soldier needs an additional edge on a run and Nadya makes no bones about adding amphetamines to her arsenal.
Jazz x 2 - One of her oldest friends, Nadya turns to Jazz when she needs to turn up the noise up a notch from the usually delightful Cram fueled rush.
Kamikaze x 1 - Nadya's last resort on a run is a quick shot of Kamikaze that she keeps on her person. Dangerous in any dosage, the tailored combat drug is the closet replacement Nadya has managed to acquire to the proprietary drugs that Evo Corporation supplied her with.
Novacoke x 2 - Cast into high society, albeit as a servant, Nadya nonetheless has warm feelings concerning social drugs like Novacoke. A stimulant to keep her awake, keep her moving, and to help the good times flow seems like a wonderful thing to her.
Psyche x 1 - Purely for pleasure and to solve occasional puzzles, Nadya seeks out Psyche.
Zen x 1 - When meditation fails her, Nadya turns to Zen to enter trance-like states.
Silver Credstick Standard Credstick 2 Stim Patches (Rating 6) 1 Trauma Patch 1 Tranq Patch Medkits (Rating 3) Medkits (Rating 6) 10 Stealth tags 10 Data Chips 10 Standard tags Chisel/Crowbar Mini-welder Metal Restraints 10 Plastic Restraints
Background
"Yeah, I've heard the rumors. So what? We all have. They're just stories. You think the Megacorps could keep it under wraps if they had pulled it off? If they had managed to create something new? Something different? Something post-human?"
"Nah, don't make me laugh, Chummer. There isn't an army of super soldiers squirreled away in some bunker and kept on ice."
- Pr1nce$$
The dwarf appeared out of the shadows, ambling confidently through the crowd. In his hands were two glass mugs slopping over with beer. He made no greeting as he put down the mugs. Beer spilling with every inevitable shift of the wobbly table. He pulled out a battered pack of cigarettes with a shrug, taking his time. He had learned decades earlier to enjoy the small moments. Holding a cigarette lazily between his lips, he extended his right index finger, a small flame setting it alight. Smiling, he took a long pull, embers moving towards him as he inhaled, and then exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. His grey eyes lingered on the woman sitting in front of him.
"Let me tell you a story..."
"It starts in the Ural mountains. In an underground research facility. Yamatetsu Corporation. Course' they call themselves Evo Corporation now. There was always this idea. This pipe dream that the corporate scientists couldn't let go of...Transhumans."
"I'm told that the pitch went something like this: "What if we could build our own army? What if we could force the next evolutionary leap? What if we could go beyond humans and metahumans? What if we could create real post-humans. Our own genetically crafted soldiers. Patented, of course. No cumbersome cyberware, but bioware, special organs grown into them from their inception. Awakened, fully powered spellcasters. The perfect synergy of augmentation and magic. No weaknesses and no flaws."
"The execs ate that shit right up. And I'll give the bastards credit. It was successful. As far as corp wonder-weapon projects go, anyways."
"Most of the subjects weren't viable. So they were recycled. Turned into spare parts. Or just tossed into the blender and thrown back into the vat as fresh genetic material. Turns out it's not easy to paste together a grab bag collection of genes. Who would've thought?"
"Those that made it...let's call them potential candidates, were spirited away to a corporate creche. Raised by corp caretakers. Minded by corp minders. And watched by corp security. SOP for a serious outfit. What was a smidge more novel was running their subjects through a training program designed by some half-mad AI to maximize the rate of Awakenings."
"That was the only real hiccup. You can't force Awakening. Even the best and the brightest researchers couldn't crack that nut. So instead, they brute forced it. Probably best not to ask how many times they had to start over. How many bodies they chopped up to end up with just one Awakened. Some of the lucky failures were repurposed, stuffed with chrome and used for corp ops. The rest...ah...well, I don't need to spell it out for you."
"The successes. The vat born that Awakened were spirited off to a string of corporate academies. Finishing schools, if you want to think of it that way. They were taught how to act. They were taught how to blend in, how to fit in among the rubes and the elites. They were taught how to fight. They were coached by trusted physical adepts. They were instructed by vetted mages. They were turned into corporate weapons."
"Hard to tell though, innit?" The dwarf said, pausing to take a long pull of beer. Draining most of one mug, he grinned, nudging the other mug towards the woman. He raised a hand in her direction as he continue, "How do you know? How do you really know if you're sitting across from a souped up physical adept bristling with bioware worth more than a small mountain of credsticks?"
The woman tensed, her hands tightening into fists, and the dwarf could see the violence in her eyes threatening to travel to rest of her body. She was quicker he knew. Far quicker than he had ever been. Even in his prime, long decades ago.
"That was the point, obviously. Corp execs and socialites like to be discreet. And who doesn't want their own vat born ninja?"
"How do you know all of this?"
"Trade secrets, I'm afraid," the dwarf said with a wink, "But I don't need to convince. You know it's all true, don't you, Nadya?"
"Yes."
"How'd you get away?"
"Field ops in Beijing. A high value extraction. We were guarding a turncoat scientist willing to come over from the Big A. We were compromised. They located our safehouse. Some hotshot Azzie decker pinged it and vectored a Azzie kill squad. Most of my team was wiped out, including my handler. There didn't seem to be much point in fighting after that. The mission was a failure. And I had a chance. So I ran."
"Still, you knew they had to come looking. There was no chance they wouldn't notice you weren't dead."
"Yes, but I had a head start."
"You did! And you caused quite a ruckus. In truth, I didn't think you'd make it."
"I got lucky. Found a boat. Made a deal. Got off the mainland. And made some friends."
"Oh, I know all about your friends, particularly your large friend. And incidentally, the cannon she has pointed at me right now. I don't think she'll miss at this range. Shall we call it 1.5 km?" the dwarf said, flashing a golden smile. The metal gleamed in the half-lit darkness, as he waved nonchalantly across the beer garden.
"She won't miss," Nadya agreed.
"Wonderful! However, as I said, you needn't worry. We are on the same side."
"There are no sides. Only runs. Only corps to be avoided. And you...who are you?"
"Grimjack, my dear Wildfire, call me Grimjack."
"Why are you helping me?"
"Call it an investment."
"Who are you working for? Ares? Aztechnology?"
"Goodness, no. I serve no master, save myself, of course."
"Flux State?" She asked, reaching backwards across the years in search of motivation.
"Ha, no, they were children. I've been at this game longer than that."
He could see she had made a decision. He could sense the shift in her aura. The dwarf raised both his hands, holding palms facing forward, "Hey, hey, relax! I told you, we're on the same side."
"Hmph! You keeping speaking of sides. What side is that?"
"The only side worth fighting for, razorgirl, you just don't know it yet."
