[X] My Assistant

[CanRay]

OK, we got a thread for magicians and being in the Shadows despite the huge paycheques and perks they can get...

And, yes, a 8-8, 6 days a week job certainly doesn't appeal to most Shadowrunners, but: Why do they 'Run? Why are they in the Shadows?

Jon "Money" Johnson is a semi-retired Mr. Johnson who just found that the Shadows of the world fit his personal view better than the corporate world. In a disgusting sewer filled with anti-social borderline sociopaths neo-anarchists who shoot people in the face for money, he found morality, ethics, and honor far and above that which he saw in any boardroom anywhere else. He did try to retire after getting married, but then an extreme splinter group of the Humanis Policlub decided to detonate a bomb during an all-ork performance of "Swan Lake" his wife and he was taking in. The last thing he saw with his natural eyes was his wife's skull splintering, the shards of bone filling his face. Then the building fell on him. He survived, but is a little... Touched by the event.

Nas is an adrenaline junkie who couldn't leave the Shadows even if he wanted to. The thrill and excitement are what he strives for now, and even after a major winfall, he's just upgraded himself, his car, and is staying in the game no matter what.

The Suit loved being a Corporate Wageslave... But then he was erased. Now, all that he wants to do is find out who removed him from the Light, and find out why.

Pup the Dog Shaman... Well, all he's ever known is the streets. And, frankly, he's just too angry a person to fit in with normal society in any way, shape or form. He'd be a psychiatrist's wet dream: The sessions he'd need would pay for a couple of kids tuitions to university, a new boat, and three cars (One for him, one for the Mrs., and the other for... Well... Um... "I understand, sir. We'll have it delivered to your office. Discretely.").

[AStarshipforAnts]

Cassandra grew up the youngest child of a 'kept' magic-heavy family to another family of corporate bigwigs. Predictably, someone got envious and greedy, and Cassandra's parents and older siblings were framed for a crime and sent to jail--leaving her uncle's nuclear family the recently-vacant proverbial Place in the Sun. The trauma of the event caused caused late-bloomer Cassandra to awaken. An hour before a snatch squad appeared at her university dormitory, the kindly Old Man of the Crossroads gave Cassandra a tip off. The young woman went to ground, and found all of her legitimate assets, including her corporate scholarship, frozen.

Three years later, she's rather disillusioned and disappointed by what's happened. She's also been dipping her toes into the shadows just to make ends meet, and find a way to a bit of petty revenge.


Bitesized grew up in a Z-zone. Grew up with an adopted family of ex-cons, shadowrunners, and street gangers. Her 'mother's place served as a bit of a crash pad for runners going to ground, so there were always people of questionable skillsets and morals there to babysit. Bitesized lived in her 'mother's basement until reaching the vague age of 'old 'nuff to work', when she was set up with a fixer and eventually a team. Given that her 'mother' was a bit of a neoanarchist who ripped people limb for limb for money back in the day, the decker was pretty much taught this was the only way to go.


J.D. is an escaped clone of a corporate bigwig who's looking to take in life outside of the laboratory while keeping under the radar. She can't get a SIN, since her biometrics exactly match someone who's looking for their spare organs. J.D. wasn't exactly taught ethics in the lab, either, and she's willing to take the word of her 'rescuers' (cough, kidnapers) as the Word of God. Now she works as a B&E expert, using the experimental tailored pheromones she was 'born' with to convince people to look the other way, and negotiate better compensation for her team. She uses faked medical paperwork to explain why she can't ever remove the re-breather over her face, an allergy to pollutants, you know.


And (un-nammed bioterrorist)? Well, no matter how brilliant the scientist is, or how many degrees and accolades they have, no one really wants to publicly hire someone that unpredictable. (un-nammed bioterrorist) used to work for Renraku, until the arcology shutdown--where (he/she) was manipulated into preforming some of the otaku experiments. Fastforward a few years, and the only people willing to give (un-nammed bioterrorist) a job are, you guessed it, people who shoot others in the face for money. And, well, who else is going to tolerate (his/her) occasional need to preform a few tests...for SCIENCE?

[Tyro]

Mephistopheles ("Call me Faust") is a religious fanatic from an anarchist cult - God (All gods of all pantheons, but they're from CalFree) is the Big Bad Authority Figure™ and must be fought. Since He/She/They/It can't be fought directly, members of the cult attempt to destabilize the world, Fight Club style, in order to weaken Him/Her/Them/It by upsetting the status quo so the oppressed masses (demons, devils, fallen angels, you name it) can mount a revolution and overthrow the tyrannical dictator(s). Yeah, they're a few fries short of a basket. (Mystic Adept face)

the Behdin Adel (A Behdin is an ordained Zoroastrian priest, and Adel is Persian/Farsi for "Righteous") is a Zoroastrian soldier in the war against the forces of Chaos. Zoroastrianism is a monotheistic faith which teaches that the world is order which was formed out of chaos, and that any action, regardless of motivation, affects the balance between those two forces. He belongs to a sect which is a bit more proactive than most, favoring explosives and sabotage to further the cause. When he's not blowing up corporate assets, he teaches history part-time at a community college. (This despite the fact that he has demolitions 4, magic theory 4, spellcasting 4... he likes to teach, and it's a good cover). He has a legal SIN, so he's very careful not to leave evidence behind. (Full magician & demo man)

Religion is a solid, easy to craft background to explain why someone's in the shadows.

[Dez384]

Piotr's life was never bad. His parents had always supported him financially, until they found out his "sociological studies" in "college" were pub-crawling and pickpocketing. He found himself on the streets until a friend told him of an asocial hacker in St Petersburg who needed someone to "pick up his groceries".

[Stahlseele]

. . Can . . you know how many handles i've posted over at the official boards alone?
Those are only the characters i got to play and remember . . there are MANY more!
And each and every single one of them had a reason. Some had the same reasons.
From running for his life to running against life. From the adrenaline rush to revenge.
Ask 20 Runners why they do run and you will get 60 different Answers most likely. . .

[Ascalaphus]

Since we regularly complain about players coming to the table with one-dimensional characters with no background or motivation, we should cherish this topic. *bookmark*

Kevin Krash was the son of parents who worked in the Renraku Arcology. They were envious of the economically successful Japanese and tried to be the best gaijin imaginable. Likewise did they raise their son.

They were locked in during the Shutdown. He wasn't; he was put in some sort of Renraku orphanarium while they sorted out the situation. He escaped into the Ork Underground - a good place to hide from Renraku. He ended up a hacker, convinced of the need to become good enough to stand against the AIs. Also: fanatical about everything American, fiercely opposed to everything Japanese. Finally, a total (human) victim of Orxploitation. It's not like he can even stand Hurlg™, but his Or'zet is better than most orks'.

[CanRay]

Since we regularly complain about players coming to the table with one-dimensional characters with no background or motivation, we should cherish this topic. *bookmark*

You mean the "How do I get more out of my dice pool" questions we keep getting? Damn straight!

I've had far too many people point out that Nas isn't a "Perfect" character when it comes to his dice pool. Thing is, he wasn't built around that, he was built around his background.

Which is right? Well, depends on your group, your playing style, and how much your GM likes to beat you over the head with hooks you've deliberately given him.

[Tyro]

You mean the "How do I get more out of my dice pool" questions we keep getting? Damn straight!

I've had far too many people point out that Nas isn't a "Perfect" character when it comes to his dice pool. Thing is, he wasn't built around that, he was built around his background.

Which is right? Well, depends on your group, your playing style, and how much your GM likes to beat you over the head with hooks you've deliberately given him.

I prefer a balance between dice and sticking to a character concept, with the caveat that I try to stay in the neighborhood of the party power level.

[AStarshipforAnts]

You mean the "How do I get more out of my dice pool" questions we keep getting? Damn straight!

Instead, the question should be: "How do I convince my GM to let me take Rube Golberg Machines as an active skill?" 'Useless' fluff skills are the best.

[Tyro]

Instead, the question should be: "How do I convince my GM to let me take Rube Golberg Machines as an active skill?" 'Useless' fluff skills are the best there is.

Desenrascano

[AStarshipforAnts]

It made the words "I boobie-trap the hotel room!" especially satisfying to say. ALWAYS.

[Tyro]

It made the words "I boobie-trap the hotel room!" especially satisfying to say. ALWAYS.

Like this?

[AStarshipforAnts]

Yes! But, with moar drones and a stick of dynamite in the sock drawer.

[Tyro]

Yes! But, with moar drones and a stick of dynamite in the sock drawer.

Good times (IMG:style_emoticons/default/cool.gif)

[CanRay]

Some people put bottles on doorknobs to alert them to people entering the apartment.

I suggest, rather, old dynamite that hasn't been stored properly. The sticks "sweat" pure nitroglycerine. One swift kick to open the door and not only are you alerted to the break-in attempt, you've also solved the problem.

On the flip side, forget about getting your damage deposit back.

[Raven the Tricks...]

Short Version:

Cale "Black Cat" Kuroneko was born in the shadows to a Californian cat burglar mother and a Japanese ex-soldier father. Both his parents died in his early teens and he was left on the streets. He ended up getting picked up by a Calfree government sting op to 'procure' deniable assets. There he got most of his training and almost all of his ware before he was framed for a serious information leak that he didn't commit. Now he's back in the shadows trying to avoid his old co-workers until he can take down the man who framed him.

Long Version

[ Spoiler ]

Black Cat's Story

Kinda funny the roads life takes you down. Even when those roads lead to places you swore you never wanted to go back to. I was born in the shadows, and I spent most of my life trying to fight my way back out. My father was Japanese, ex military, missing and presumed dead on a mission in California in the late 2040s. Given the chance he got out of the military business and entered the shadows where at least most of the people he had to kill weren't defenceless civilians and almost never children. There he met my mother a redheaded Californian cat burglar who he teamed with and eventually fell in love with. A few years later while they were working in Sacramento, I came along.

Needless to say I wasn't exactly planned, but once my mother found out she was pregnant she refused to give me up. She got out of the shadows, even got a semi-legitimate job to supplement the money my father brought in as a runner. She never forgot what it was like to be a runner though, and from the time I could walk she started teaching me about stealth. When I was 6, my father started teaching me karate in his spare time, as well as a few tricks with a knife. When I was ten my mother took me on my first entry run. It was an easy target, and we never took anything, but it reminded her too much of what she missed from the shadows. A year later she was back on my father’s team as a runner, 6 months later she was dead.

11 years is a long time away from the shadows, long enough to go soft even when you are training your kid, at least that's always what we figured happened. She was far enough on point that my father never actually saw what happened to her, but he still blamed himself for her death. He started slipping away after that, losing his edge. Two years later he was dead too, and he was probably better off for it.

Still, that left me on my own at 13. I had a little bit of money left from my parents, but I was soon out on the street. I'd never really been in the government databases, so child services never came after me. I got roped into life on the streets, joined a gang, and started using what I'd learned from my parents to survive. It wasn't all bad, because of my family connections I was able to fence things that nobody else in the gang could, and the skills my mother had taught me put me a cut above the average thief. It also made me cocky. I started taking on richer and tougher targets just because I could, until one day I heard about a target that topped them all. I'd always avoided both corp and government targets, I didn't want to get killed and they had security tough enough to have killed my parents, and I wasn't suicidal. After a while though I started worrying about it less and less, and when I heard about the value of the collections at the Sacramento governor's mansion it was too much for me to pass up. It was going to be my hardest target to date. I almost made it too...

What I didn't know back then was that the Cal Free government was working on building a group of deniable assets who would be more loyal than shadowrunners typically were. They'd started spreading rumours about particularly juicy targets into the streets, and very quietly built up the security on those same targets. What they were after was the people who almost got the goods and got away, people like me. When I was caught I thought I was a gonner for sure, but they gave me a choice; death, or work for them. Then came the real carrot, while I wasn't on active ops I'd be able to live a real life, above average lifestyle without the work to maintain it. Not only that, give them 20 years and they'd make the freedom permanent. It wasn't really a choice, I took the offer.

The problem with offers that sound too good to be true, is that they usually are. Mind you, for the first few years everything went great. They even hooked me up with quite a bit of useful 'ware and training to make me even better than I was when I came to them. There were jobs, mostly intel work against foreign countries. Occasionally there were intel jobs against extraterritorial megacorps, and even more rarely other work, snatch and grabs, kidnappings and even a couple of assassinations. Out of that, it was ironically one of the easy jobs, intel work against <corp> that got me into trouble.

From what I've managed to piece together over the past few years since that fateful run <corp> had been acting on intel that was disturbingly similar to what we had been bringing in for a few months and our government masters wanted that leak found and plugged. I don't know if it was just luck that my team got the assignment or if Sanders somehow got wind of what we were looking for, but either way his plan was a little different than what the big bosses had in mind. You see, the leak we were looking for was none other than my team's senior agent, Royce Sanders. Sand Man Sanders must have found himself a hole in the agency's operational security, and he was somehow feeding information our ops uncovered to <corp>, likely for a tidy profit. Unfortunately the first I found out about this was he iced our hacker when Retro found the leak while we were on the op. We were running a small team on that op so I'm the only other one who knows. Good news for me, I managed to get away from Sand Man with my life after I managed a lucky toss with one of my knives that knocked his gun off target long enough for me to get a head start. Bad news for him, Retro's flailing arm when he was killed tossed the chip with the proof of Sand Man's actions right to me when he was shot.

That was two years ago. Since then I've had to live life deep in the shadows and keep an eye out for the occasional agent, but so far I've come out on top. From what I heard from the one friend who ran out on the agency after I left, Sand Man told them that we Retro had gotten taken out on the op and that I'd gone awol. Combined with the fact that he must have severely cut back the amount of info he was leaking to <corp>, he managed to convince the agency that I was the leak. I even hear he got a promotion to a desk job for 'finding the leak'. The only good news for me in all that is that for the most part the agency hasn't treated me any different than their other awol agents. I've got a kill order out on my head, but enough agents pulled a runner when they saw the opportunity that the agency didn't push too hard trying to search any given one of us out. Sand Man's promotion has made my life a little more dicey than the average runner's though, because he's got an especial hate on for me since I'm the one person who knows what he did and can ruin his cushy lifestyle.

I've still got that chip, and one of these days I'm going to have to go back and take him down to clear my name, but so far I haven't been able to get the manpower and skills to make the run, because one thing's for sure, it's not going to be easy. First things first though, I've got to build up my own skills and credit, and that means running. I guess that's my story, now what about yours?

[Wakshaani]

Well, since Prometheus is in the Magician thread, here's the other five members of the team.

Napoleon Napoleon Jones, Face.
Napoleon is a bit on the small side, but quite charming and, more importantly, driven. He's been poor his entire life but found early on that while he wasn't much of a fighter, he was a dang fine talker. He's managed to turn this into a serious advantage, making himself an entry-level mover and shaker who now leads his own Shadowrunning team, putting his planning skills and charm into making sure things run smoothly. He even helps his guys invest wisely for the future. He's been betrayed in the past by his own family (His dad bailed when Leon was a kid, his mom became a junkie, etc) and he clings a bit harder to his new family unit than he really should.

Napoleon's strengths are, obviously, his good looks and charm which, when coupled with his overall human-ness, opens many doors as well as allowing him to unload loot and procure new gear. He has the ability to blend in almost anywhere ... he grew up a gutterpunk, can practice Japanese tea ceremony with the Yakuza in the morning, do lunch with an Ares exec, and talk about Union deals with the mob in the evening. With no magic and no cyberware of note, he can gain entry into places that other runners can't, prepping an area for later, getting past security to follow someone, or, overall, taking whatever role the team needs, thanks to his disguise skills and acting ability.

While Napoleon's obviously spent most of his twenty one years getting ready for the Shadows, building an array of business savy and knowledge of who's who, he does have a terrible addiction to, of all things, baseball. It's a fond childhood memory and he still loves the game, even today. Maybe it's the tactical deciscions, maybe the timeless nature, or maybe it's the one place that he and his mom could go to bond, but, he just absolutely loves him some baseball and relaxes there at least twice a month during the season.

----------------------

Princess (unrevealed) Razorgirl

Princess (Oh how she hates that streetname) was born to a fairly normal middle class home in a middle class neighborhood to middle class parents. She took piano lessons, went to gymnastics lessons, played soccer for the corporate kids team, and so forth ... up until her father was laid off in a downsizing. Their debt was called in, their house taken away, and within a month they were out on the streets of Philadelphia, just in time for New Years Eve. When a potential job opened up, her father took it, despite it being somewhat crooked (Bookkeeping for a small Yakuza-affiliated gang), and the family moved into South Pilly.

Life there was borderline Hell, with no law to be found and the only governing body being the assorted gang lords who run the place. Fortunately, her family had protection from the Yakuza, due to her father's new position, so there was a dirt-poor semblance of a normal life for her. She made a few friends, tried to get by on educational software since there was no school to be found, gritted her teeth, and kept trying to be a good kid.

Then her mother was killed.

Caught in the wrong territory while trying to buy a Christmas present, she was caught by a rival gang, which ended as these things so often do. Princess was devastated and her father shattered, with him pouring himself into both his work and a bottle. Princess tried to find something to cling on to, eventually locking into her father's gang and revenge. By the time she was sixteen, Princess had grown up the hard way, developing a hard edge to keep the world out, a drug habit, and a rep as a real fighter. Her father had fallen into a spiral into destruction, a spiral that she actually was following in her own way, and she'd probably have wound up just another dead ganger had she not made a move and saved a visiting Yakuza soldier from an ambush. He rewarded her with a job as first a guide and lookout, then a bodyguard, then later still an enforcer, impressed by the nail-tough blond. He started having her join him on missions outside the streets, giving her the first look she'd had of the outside world in five years, bonding the two well.

Over the next couple of months, she served as his bodyguard, concubine, and all around girl friday, delivering packages, beatings, and warnings equally, earning herself a solid position ... or so she thought. Turns out that her "Angel" had repaid her early on, but, on a lark, kept her around almost like a pet, figuring that someone utterly loyal and disposable could come in handy, which she did. He eventually sacrficed her to an ambush meant for him, one that she barely escaped. When she staggered into his home, eyes full of rage, he tried to talk her down, then pulled a gun on her, at which point she killed him. She took what she could, then ran, vanishing back into the slums ... the Yakuza didn't see the need to deal with her, since they'd already planned on killing her boss and she'd saved them a second attempt.

For the past couple of years, she managed to use her stolen goods to buy herself an upgrade, albeit a shoddy one, and has started hiring herself out as an independent contractor again. She currently works for Napoleon as his bodyguard and razorgirl, quietly praying that he won't be like so many others and kick her to the curb when he's done with her. She's built up a tough wall around her to keep the world out, but, she's actually desperate for someone to love while at the same time thinking of herself as completely unworthy, a self-destructive spiral where, whenever she risks being happy, she finds some way to scuttle it. Princess, who still *hates* her street name (Given to her as a child by the localswho snickered at her pretty clothes, hair, and mannerisms), but hangs on to it as a reminder of her childhood (Tho she'd never admit it.)

Princess lives a simple life of booze, cigarettes, and playing pool in the bar or plinking away on a guitar in her slummy apartment. She's a diehard Urban Brawl fan, giving Napoleon hell over his liking a 'Pansy game' like baseball, and is something of a motorhead, with a particular love for motorcycles and the freedom culture that it represents. Some nights, she just goes on a long drive, hoping that she can just outrun her life, but always comes back in the end.

Princess' muscle replacements are fine and barely noticeable, but her wires were a low grade to begin with and have never worked quite right. In particular, she can't turn them completely off, leaving her on edge and cranky due to a constant mild headache from the increased blood pressure. She pops painkillers on a regular basis, and has developed a nightly shot of Zen to help her slow down enough to sleep. She'd love to make enough to upgrade to a real set with an actual off switch that works, but for now she's a rare razorgirl addicted to going slower, not faster.

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Phoenix Crescendo Rises on Golden Wings (unrevealed) Elven Decker

"Phoenix Crescendo Rises on Golden Wings, Reaching Towards the Sun and... oh, come on. From Dark Angel's album Flaming Wings? Track four?! Oh for the love of ... Just call me Phoenix!" *mutter* "Philistine."

Phoenix is a Tir expat, formerly a coder with his own small busines in Tir Tangaire where he would create artistic programs and sculpt beautiful icons for a reasonable fee, who had the unfortunate luck to be distantly related to a duke and, well ... long story short, he skipped the country before heads could roll. Originally from Philadelphia (Though loathe to admit it), he came back and started trying to rebuild his life. unfortunately, Philly is somewhat less ... receptive ... of his talents. He turned to a bit of freelance Hacking to make ends meet, where he was hired by Napoleon to serve overwatch. He found himself charmed by the shorter fellow, finally finding someone with culture and an appreciation for his talent. He's signed on for now, having found someone to bond with somewhat, as well as someone that might be able to help him pay his rent.

Pheonix is a True Artiste ™, repulsed by uncouth natures and barbaric behavior, constantly frustrated by a world that isn't well-read enough in Erhan the Scribe's writings or that understands the deep underpinings behind Dark Angel's music. He sees his own computer coding in the same light, as elegant masterpieces unappreciated by the boorish room around him, which makes him depressed, which makes him be a bit snippy and snobish, which makes the situation worse, in a constant loop. He's every art school student stereotype rolled into one, with sighs, eyerolls, and flamboyant behavior.

Phoenix is also a Mage-o-phile, having been cursed with a body as devoid of magic as Styrofoam but a spirit that calls out for it. He's surprisingly well-versed in magical theory because of this, and all of his matrix icons are "Magical" in design. He's taken Lord Prometheus under his wing, in a way, passing on the 'Proper' way to do magic, despite the frustration that this brings and he wonders how a universe could *possibly* have gifted that ... that ... that CHILD with magic while passing up someone so obviously gifted as himself. Princess is convinced that he's got a mancrush on Prometheus, but Phoenix won't dignify that with a response.

Phoenix isn't the mightiest of arm, but, he's more physically active than the average hacker, with ample social skills when he chooses to use them, a decent aim with (ugh!) a pistol, and is skilled in swordplay, though "Something of a dabbler" more than a true fighter. He and Princess sometimes spar and she routinely kicks his tush, which drives him to frustration. Mind you, just breathing seems to frustrate Phoenix, so, he gets over it well enough. Phoenix is terribly homesick but knows that he can't return to the Tir for several years, just in case, but equally wouldn't set foot in Tir na nOg and their technology-scoffing society on a dare. So, for now, he's in Philladelphia, settling in for a decade or so.

Phoenix is average in height and build for an Elf, with naturally white hair worn Bishi, ice-blue eyes, and a sterling silver datajack for style.

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Tater Tot Shui Clark, Rigger

Shui Clark was called "Little Tater Tot" by her dad pretty much from the day she was born. She grew up as 'Tater' in school, and still uses the nickname today so much that most people just assume that it's her brith name. A bit odd, sure, but she's pretty sure that she's the only Tater Tot in Philly, so takes a bit of pride in it.

Name aside, Tater Tot had a fairly normal upbringing, her father a successful mechanic and her mom a second daughter of a small market owner, in a time when being bi-racial was no big deal. When she was eight, however, the family was in a wicked car crash which claimed her mother's life and Tot's right arm. She was pretty horrified by the metal *thing* that they gave her to replace it, but, in time, got used to it, eventually finding out how it made her special in the truest sense of the word. After several years of upgrades and tinkering, she's almost forgotten what it was like to have two real arms.

...

Almost.

...

Tot's father passed away last year, but she was ruled old enough to stay out of foster care and run her own life. The insurance money from his death has nearly run out, and it turns out that she inherited more than his estate and mechanical skills ... she also got his luck.

Story is that, when he was a wee lad, Papa Clark went and horked off the wrong magician, which laid some kind of funky curse on him. Ever since that day, his luck'd gone sour. Worse, there'd be long streaks were things went right, just to make it all fail worse when it mattered. he tried everything to get the curse lifted but no magician could ever help. After he died, Tater started having similar problems... maybe it's fate, maybe the link is still active, or maybe it's all in her head. Regardless, the fact is that just when things start to look good, they turn around and bite her square in the keister. She has *gobs* of good luck charms, but only pulls them out when it looks like she's going to really need the help.

Most days, Tater herself is something of a free spirit ... her father raised her as a tomboy, the son he never had, but also as his little princess, doting on her heavily when she got old enough. She wasn't spoiled rotten, but, she certainly had more than she probably should have and less rules and restrictions. She turned her cyberlimb into something cool and her bubbly charm is downright infectious. She's a diehard clubber and trend-follower, but also a deep romantic and prankster... in short, she's all over the map. She's taken up painting the past few years, especially automobile detailing and grafitti.

Napoleon found her after the team took a few hits from a street gang, turning their current ride into so much scrap metal. Despite being more of a mechanic than a rigger, she volunteered herself into the mix, willing to try anything once. Besides, her father's insurance is about tapped out and she has billls to pay. The Lucky Lucky Lucky Garage is pretty deserted these days, what with her being the lone employee and all. The family curse strikes again.

Tater Tot sees Napoleon as cool and smart, trusting him lots. He, in turn, likes to use her as his "Inside Girl", since Princess is so horrible at this sort of thing. Tater's easy to dress up as normal and has a great selection of wigs and clothes, making for a handy partner. She has a small crush on him and he's noticed, but, it doesn't work both ways.

Tot has the *major* hots for Phoenix Crescendo, having just all sorts of Bishi fantasies that she doodles out when he's not paying attention. She's smitten completely, sometimes just plopping her chin in her hand to stare at him, sighing. He, meanwhile, has no clue why this sappy girl is eyeballing him and wishes that she'd learn some manners. She's too shy to make a move (Or too romantic), but continues to moon terribly. She's heard about his financial problems and is quietly cleaning out a spare room in her place above the garage, to invite him to move in "As a friend". He has no idea what web he'll be falling into.

Tot and Lord Prometheus are nearly the same age, and actually only a bit younger than the far older-seeming Princess, and either get along great in a nerdy fashion or have horrible spats as teenaged hormones rage. He kind of wants to help her with this curse of hers, but has no idea where to start. She won't let him go deal with the Triad magicians to find out more information, but that's just making him more curious.

Despite her general boycrazy nature and clubbing habits, Tot's actually had very little experience in those fields, the arm freaking out a few guys (And attracting a few that, ew, not happening) ... besides, she goes out dancing to go out dancing and have fun, maybe flirt a little, then go home tired and happy, not drunk or in somebody else's bed. She's sort of the kid mascot for the team, now, and they tend to treat her as such, even tho she's old enough to drive.

Tot tends to humanize her toys, giving them names and personalities. Charlie Chan the Bulldog Van (You named your van Charlie?! Yeah, well, your girlfriend lives in your Commlink. ... Touche'.), Skitters the Kanmushi Drone, Airhead the Stormcloud, and "CreepyStalkerCam" for her Flyspy. Each has a fairly specific mission, with Charlie Chan being the main team vehicle and observation.command post, Skitters for scouting inside buildings, Airhead for snagging Commcodes and keeping on eye on things from above, and "CreepyStalkerCam" for following people in the outdoors, often landing on a roof or windowsill to listen through the glass via Lasermic.

Unlike most riggers, Tater Tot loves to get in the middle of it, wearing disguises, hacking maglocks in person, even clonking people with her cyber arm. (Hah! You got fisted, punk! Ack! Princess,.what's wrong? Tot, don't ... don't use that phrase, okay? What, punk? No, no, the other one. Fisted? Yeah, that one. But he got fisted! ... .... ... What?!) ... She's an action junkie of sorts and goes crazy if stuck in one place too long. Having her just sit in the van makes her go batty. Since she can keep Charlie and Airhead linked up while she goes inside and does her thing, she can still run the show if need be. She thinks that this is the coolest game, like, ever, but is probably in denial as well ... her home's getting run down, her parents are both dead, the business is dying, and she's blown her inheritance ... Depending on how the next year or two go, she could do well, burn out and crash, or go completely sideways.

Tater Tot wears her hair in a short bob but it's usually hidden by a wig or dyed into some color not found in nature. She tries to keep up with current fashion as best she can, be it goth one week, neon neveau the next, or librarian the next. She's small, only 153 CM tall, with "boring" brown eyes but a chromed cyberarm that shows many a personal moification. Despite being pretty cool about her arm, she secretly hates the thing and is reluctant to get more cybernetic implants. It's been part of her for longer than her real arm was, if only just, so she can't really imagine getting it replaced with something natural-ish, but she has the occasional bad day where she wants nothing more than to yank it off and toss it across the room. After an hour or two of self-loathing, she winds up fetching it back, re-attaching it, and then quietly tinkering it back up to fully functional again.

-------------------

Rhino (unrevealed) Ork Mercenary

They say that there's only two ways out of the slums of Philly ... you either turn to crime or you get good at sports. Turns out that there's a third way ... you can get a government job. That's what Rhino did, joining the UCAS army, hoping to save enough cash to get himself an education and do his mom proud. He's got five brothers and sisters, two of which got sucked into gang life at a young age, but he managed to play it straight, stay in church, stay in school, and fly right. He was a hard-working, if uninspiring student, and actually graduated high school. His friends, almost all of which dropped out years ago, actually treated him *worse* for this, claiming that he thought that he was "Better" than them and that he was losing touch with keepin' it real. When he left to join the Army, his family saw him off, but his friends were nowhere to be found.

The Army was good to Rhino, giving him hot meals, a decent bed, and organization... Rhino was never cut out for leadership, but he followed orders well. He was a bit surprised to see so many Metahumans and so few Just Humans, but, hey, he's from Philly, so no big. He was a happy little infantryman of average marks who was sent out West, to babysit the Sioux border with the rest of his squad.

Then Crash 2.0 hit.

Oh, the border stayed solid, they made sure of that, but things got rough for a while, with martial law kicking in, paranoia for a year, and anti-radiation pills for the fallout of nuclear detonations. Still, things calmed down, and he got back to a fairly normal life, settling down with a nice cornfed girl who had a thing for men in uniform. Even worked as a nurse on the base, kept things nice and tidy.

Rhino probably would have been content to stay there for good, living out a lifetime soldiery position and maybe getting married, having a small family of five, six kids, and generally being happy, until he overheard a conversation that his girl was having about "The Experiment." He leafed through files when she was at work, finding that the anti-rads the Orks in the unit were being given were placebos, to see how Orks reacted to possible radiation infection as part of some study from above. As furious as she was when she found him going through her files, he was even more angry over being betrayed. He went to tell his CO about it, was assured that it was being taken care of, then went home.

They came in the night, dragging him to a cornfield in the middle of nowhere. Unmasked, he got to see his commander, along with faceless men backed by the glare of headlights. he wasn't being killed ... he didn't know anything, really. A scandal that they could cover up with a phone call, a document that was destroyed, an airheaded nurse who was being re-assigned to a more private facility ... nothing major. But a body? A body was always a problem. Too much damn paperwork. No, he was being bought off. A ticket home, a medical discharge, and five grand in his pocket to forget he ever saw anything. Plan B was a bullet, a stray Sioux insurgent who gets discovered by a BTL-topped soldier who takes one for the team. Did his mother really want that letter?

Once back in Philly, Rhino puttered about aimlessly for a while, doing some volunteer work in a local shelter, trying to get his head screwed back on right. He tried slipping the story to a major news outlet, but ... no footage? No documents? No evidence? Then there was no story. He tried getting a job, but nothing really clicked. He even applied to Lone Star, but his clean record and tusks made him realize what the answer would be even before they said no.

Napoleon found him after a bit of searching. He needed a military guy, someone that could handle a firefight and could handle a gun. Finding tweaked steroid freaks was easy, but they couldn't get where he needed to go. He needed somebody clean, that could walk through a Cyberware detector without a worry and still kick hoop. The money was good, the unit comraderie was there, the loyalty was there, but... crime? Rhino'd walked away from that as a kid, and now he'd be falling down the road to damnation?

It took a while, but Napoleon's not a guy who takes no for an answer. Rhino signed up, on the condition that he gets veto power. If he doesn't like a run, if it isn't clean enough, then they walk away. Thusfar, it hasn't ben an issue. Turns out that basic B&E work doesn't involve much gunplay and, when it does, it's firing on the run, rather than to wipe somebody out. Napoleon's not a fan of wetwork or killing in general, and the few times that they've had to get ugly, it's been against genuinely bad men. For now, he's Napoleon's right hand, team muscle, and all-around bedrock for the team, but he's been burned by loyalty before. It remains to see if he'll be burned again.

Rhino's a good guy, by and large, and well liked by the team. He's a cornerstone, with a good moral guideline and keeps them from doing anything too tetchy. He's there mainly to glower, look big, and BE big, keeping meetings in line by his presence and getting them out of tight situations with raw physical power. He's a legitimate citizen, with a SIN, a military history, no criminal record, authorization to buy firearms ... he's an *amazingly* good find, even if he doesn't know it. He's also well-versed in military matters, admitedly as only an infantryman, giving a tactical wall for Napoleon to bounce ideas off of. He's a bit slow and measured, the last one to agree to a plan after he ponders it for a time, making sure that everything's good to go.

Rhino serves as the team's strongman and backbone, keeping their morals centered and being the shoulder that everyone relies on. When the drek hits the fan, he can grab any one, or even any TWO, chuck 'em over his shoulder, and retreat without breaking a sweat. He's also a genuinely nice guy and a stable platform, a touchstone that everyone else can revolve around.

Napoleon, for example, relies on his brute strength and loyalty, as well as his miliitary training, in his plans. He can trust Rhino completely, and he can be used as a surprisingly handy infiltrator... Nobody pays heed to the Ork Janitor, for example, or the Ork in a truck that picks up your trash. The ritzier parts of town can draw eyes, sure, but Rhino's not got a bit of 'ware in him, so can get through scanners without a problem. Heck, he even has a legit SIN and a military background! They don't really hang out much, but they plan together, with Rhino serving as the wall for Leon to bounce ideas off of.

Princess, on the other hand, is on the one hand amazed at how much hoop Rhino can kick while, at the same time, also wants to show him up. It's a friendly rivalry, mostly on her side. They can chum around fairly well, but she always tries to get him to loosen up while he tries to get her to straighten up. They make good drinking buddies, tho he gets upset at her for starting barfights, and have different fave Urban Brawl teams, which they discuss while watching the game and drinking. They have a lot in common, but he weathered it better than she did. She needs him to keep her grounded, he needs her to drag him out of his shell.

Rhino and Lord Prometheus sometimes clash, but not badly. Rhino sees Prometheus as a kid, which he is, and tries to look out for him, but Prom is a bit too gung ho just yet. He's never been really *hurt* out there, and is still playing a game, in all honesty. Prom is a nice studybuddy, however, and will be helping Rhino with the upcomming college load. Rhino surprises Prom by being more interested in learning than the average Ork, but also serves to show Prom that there's a whole other style of thinking out there.

Rhino and Phoenix? There's an odd couple. They just *love* to bust one another's hoop whenever possible, cracking wise and sniffing at each other's weaknesses, but, they work well as a team. They don't really hang in the same circles, but, they sometimes trade off on racial issues, having a few spats over it.

Rhino and Tot act like a big brother and little sister. He's convinced that she's insane half the time, but, she's "Family" so he takes care of her. Even more than Princess, Tot *drags* him to clubs, pimps him out at her friends, pushes him to the dancefloor to meet cute girls, and spazzes out over his reluctance to deal with AR and the wireless matrix. He's been giving her pointers in fighting techniques and target practice, she helps him socialize, and, overall, they just gel. She's small enough to help him get stuff off the floor, he's tall enough to grab stuff off the top shelf ... it's a great bond between the two.

Rhino's Shadow Reporter contact is a rookie intern at the Philadelphia Inquirer, one with some Blogger roots and a connection to the Shadow broadcasters. She got wind of his story and tried to help out, but got stonewalled. She's young, a very "Driven college liberal" sort, now in her sophmore year at the same university that Rhino will be attending. With a foot in three worlds that he needs, the two will, over time, build up a strong bond, but, for now, are still in a feeling out process.

Note that, currently, Rhino's fairly underarmed... he has the Fichetti that most of the rest of the team is issued, as well as a personal "Hand cannon" in his Colt Manhunter, but he uses standard ammo (He expects to get stopped as an Ork and doesn't want to be found with something hot), nor does he have MilSpec gear, such as an Ares Assault Rifles or body armor. he was turfed from the Army without being able to snag these and, since then, hasn't really *wanted* to get anything stronger. It won't be long, however, since he and Tater Tot are supposed to handle the heavy artillery.

(phew!)

[Troyminator]

I've had far too many people point out that Nas isn't a "Perfect" character when it comes to his dice pool. Thing is, he wasn't built around that, he was built around his background.

Oh Amen, brother!

I have no Shadowrun characters as I'm the GM for our group and the last time I/we played was 2nd edition (maybe 1st).

But with the group of min/maxing, powergaming munchkins I play (usually D&D) with, I am the only one that builds a character around a concept. I usually feel woefully underpowered, but I have loads of fun role-playing rather than roll-playing.

I tend to roll the stats first, then figure out why s/he has those stats and how that fits into the setting. Even then, I rarely get to do that as, with all those power gamers, they tend to need the walking first aid kit, I am the healer.

[sabs]

Wheels (Born Jonathan Stevens) grew up in the poor barrens of Seattle. His parents pooled what money they could to get him hired by Fuji-Nissan. They used bribes to get him Corporate Citizen status. Wheels started out on the floor, as a laborer. He was outfitted with skillwires, and worked in the Fuji-Nissan plant doing what ever jobs were deemed necessary, and having the skills loaded up into his databanks. A new Security Head had the bright idea to outfit all of the night workers with Move by Wire 2, instead of skillwires. This would allow them to double as security response teams, if it became necessary. Jonathan gladly accepted the reduction in pay, because it came with improved medical coverage. His parents died young, suffering from the usual toxic who knows what that comes with living in the barrens. Jonathan took in his siblings. Rachel (16), Michael (12) and little Heather (6). They lived with him in the Fuji-Nissan enclave, and went to Corporate Sponsored school. Little Heather became very sick, some kind of genetic disorder. Jonathan's medical insurance coverage only covered basic medical care. While they could cure Heather, it was well above his pay-grade. Desperate, Jonathan was introduced to someone working for Tanamous. They used their influence to provite Jonathan with GoldenFlower Insurance. Which would cover all of Heather's surgeries, and treatments. In return, they demanded the occasional favor.

That's how it starts. The occasional favor.

Before Jonathan knew it, he was so far over his head, he didn't know where to turn. And when, naturally, the favor he asked got him caught, well that was the end. Everything unravelled. His SiN was revoked, and listed as criminal, his accounts were frozen, and he was terminated on the spot. Luckily Rachel, by then was 22 years old, and had just graduated college and accepted a position with Fuji-Nissan. She took custody of her two remaining siblings. Unfortunately for HER, the changes in insurance were discovered and she was made responsible for the rather large amounts of debt.

Now Jonathan finds himself alone, with no money, no friends, no family. All he has, is the skills aquired while working for Fuji-Nissan security, and Tanamous. His contacts with Tanamous have dried up as well, now that he is no longer usefl.

So he runs the Shadows, because the only other option, is to roll over and die.

[Crazy Ivan]

Julian King didn't have the usual stroke of bad luck every other troll in the world was born with. He was actually born into a family with a nice, respectable job in Seattle. He went to High School, played sports, and did fairly well academically. After joining the UCAS military at age 18, King had a blast getting to travel and live a relatively good life working with his battalion. Then when he was on leave in New York, he was involved in a barfight with some radical Humanis goons who believed that the army shouldn't be infected with goblin blood and jumped King. After squashing them relatively thoroughly by heaving them out the window, he was court marshalled on charges of assault and discharged (didn't help when one of the goons was the son of a Senator). King returned to Seattle, smuggling back his beloved custom Auto Assault 18. He got a small apartment in Auburn, works as a bouncer at Loveland Quinns bar in Tacoma, where he me a few contacts that get him occasional shadow work for some extra pocket money.

He's not a true shadowrunner. He's just someone who's life sometimes drops into the shadows.

[Crazy Ivan]

edit- double post.

[Christian Lafay]

So apparently I'm the only guy who goes with the "Rich and bored" Ocean's 12 rip-off....

[ravensoracle]

Kristof Vide, streetname Casket, has been around for a while. He grew up in the Barrens, SINless and poor like most of the people. But Kristof was able to clean up his act as a kid and ended up joining the Knight Errant Force as part of a community outreach program. He made it through the ranks quickly, gaining hiself a spot of a HRT Fireteam. And then a promotion to a Detective Specializing in Investigation many corporations more clandestine But corporate life never really settled with Kristof. His disdain for the wageslave beancounters that were constantly intefering with his work and all the constant rules and regulations just rubbed Kristof the wrong way.

Eventually this attitude cost him his career. And what else does an out of work ex-HRT member do but head for the Shadows. And Kristof took his knowledge and what enhancements he could get away with taking, and hit the Shadows with a gusto. There he quickly made a name for himself as a ruthless runner that would get the job done. He also gained a rep for not putting up with a Johnson's crap. Kristof gained the name `Casket` because any Johnson that tried to double cross him normally ended up in one. And the casket was always closed for the funeral.

Casket has spent over a decade running the Shadows. No easy feat for a Street Sam.

[CanRay]

So apparently I'm the only guy who goes with the "Rich and bored" Ocean's 12 rip-off....

"Money" Johnson is the "Bored and Rich", but it's also due to various other reasons... Not the least of which is what he's a very, very angry person with a very strange religion. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/nyahnyah.gif)

[Christian Lafay]

"Money" Johnson is the "Bored and Rich", but it's also due to various other reasons... Not the least of which is what he's a very, very angry person with a very strange religion. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/nyahnyah.gif)

Fair enough. Mine was just "I've broken the lifestyle system... Can I wrap a personality around it?". Not as deep as "Money"