Friend of mine does contract work that requires a Security Clearance (Cleaning Oil Refineries). He admits that he got the job because he doesn't have any kind of criminal record, whereas people who were caught doing so much as Tagging are denied.
It doesn't even need to be any major crime, even the most minor one restricts you badly!
Full Version: Why does your Shadowrunner 'Run?
Steve is a former lumberjack with an imortality complex(physical adept elf with lots of mystic armour). He runs because he finds it fun and believes he'll never die. Every brush with death just reinforces his belief.
QUOTE (Speed Wraith @ Apr 28 2008, 02:40 PM) 
What, not Pat Benatar? Every damned time I hear Shadows of the Night I think SR, just 'cause of the title 
I say Lionel Ritchie!
Well I shelled out money for the rules, didn't I?
Shadowrunners are the grey area of sixth world society. With the growing economic gap and the dissolution of the middle-class, Shadowrunners come from two places. Maybe they're crawling their way up, gangers, small-time mobsters, prostitutes, whatever. Or maybe they fell from the top.
Corporations kill people. Not because they don't like them, or because they take particular joy in killing people, but because sometimes, it looks good on paper. It's cost effective, and it reduces risks. You've got a Data Entry worker who's tasked to the logistical operation of selling those surplus armaments to foreign arms dealers. As a preventative measure, after a while, you might want to arrange a car-accident for him, just in case he ever mentions it to some-one, or tries to make a dollar out of it. It's not like it matters, there's billions of people just like him, bored and worthless, and all you need to do is plug some skillwires in and he's functionally the same as the guy you just had executed as a pre-emptive cost reductive measure.
Similar things happen to all different types of corpers. You could be a corporate hitman and then one day find yourself "redundant". It happens all the time. You could be a scientist, and the corp spooks identify you as an extraction target, and if the risk outweighs your productivity, which has been down since you got onto chips due to "work stress", they might decide to liquefy your contract and make sure you're of no use to anyone who might extract you. So many people work for the corps, so many expendables. Hackers, Riggers, Wagemages, Negotiators, Hitmen, Special Forces, the list goes on.
But some-times they slip through the cracks. There's an unforeseen hiccup in the risk reduction process and suddenly corporate asset, System Identification #8542-256-562-00B has absconded. Soon the number is gone, too and that person ceases to exist.
Shadowrunners are the grey area of sixth world society. With the growing economic gap and the dissolution of the middle-class, Shadowrunners come from two places. Maybe they're crawling their way up, gangers, small-time mobsters, prostitutes, whatever. Or maybe they fell from the top.
Corporations kill people. Not because they don't like them, or because they take particular joy in killing people, but because sometimes, it looks good on paper. It's cost effective, and it reduces risks. You've got a Data Entry worker who's tasked to the logistical operation of selling those surplus armaments to foreign arms dealers. As a preventative measure, after a while, you might want to arrange a car-accident for him, just in case he ever mentions it to some-one, or tries to make a dollar out of it. It's not like it matters, there's billions of people just like him, bored and worthless, and all you need to do is plug some skillwires in and he's functionally the same as the guy you just had executed as a pre-emptive cost reductive measure.
Similar things happen to all different types of corpers. You could be a corporate hitman and then one day find yourself "redundant". It happens all the time. You could be a scientist, and the corp spooks identify you as an extraction target, and if the risk outweighs your productivity, which has been down since you got onto chips due to "work stress", they might decide to liquefy your contract and make sure you're of no use to anyone who might extract you. So many people work for the corps, so many expendables. Hackers, Riggers, Wagemages, Negotiators, Hitmen, Special Forces, the list goes on.
But some-times they slip through the cracks. There's an unforeseen hiccup in the risk reduction process and suddenly corporate asset, System Identification #8542-256-562-00B has absconded. Soon the number is gone, too and that person ceases to exist.
I asked this question of a friend and got a weird, to me at least, response from her about it. See, this lady is a, well, a mob princess to put not too fine a point on it and while I won't go in to the details, for her it was because of the way she was raised.
So, I asked around with a couple of my older buds and got answers that were similar to many here, but asking around amongst the youngsters, I started getting more and more responses like that of my lady friend. It seems to me like more and more of the younger generation are also running because "that was how we were raised". Here I'm not talking about the direct descendants of runners, but rather something I see as a societal trend. Maybe even my own response accentuates it in a way, even though I metasized and wasn't born like this to be "raised like this".
In essence the gap between the haves and have nots is being exacerbated by the geriatric possibilities now becoming available to those in power. There is no room for the younger generation to access the same kind of upward mobility that even their parents had access to, and this is all across the different socio-economic groupments, not just concentrated at the bottom end.
Minor "upgrades" of the person themselves are becoming common place enough for even the lowly in society, as long as they have the drive to do it, but power and prestige no longer go with these unless a non-traditional route is taken to obtain those desired outcomes of the "upgrading". This in turns forces the ambitious to seek the non-traditional avenues and it forces those in power who do not want to be replaced, and no longer have the impetus to do so as they are no longer feeling the bite of age that subconsciously suggests to us at some point in our lives that "it's time to slow down", to make those avenues illegal in basis.
People, WE are the ultimate illegality of non-tradition. Ours is a path to a species of prestige and power and perhaps to cleaning some of the dead wood out of the top levels and making it possible for the type of upward mobility sought. All of this as unconscious human societal selection, a social Darwinism in action.
In straight forward terms, there are less routes to the end desired and the illegal ones are becoming the straightest routes, if not for the actual Runners themselves, but for the middle aged middle men who are crafting this very response by their own social engineering, unconscious of the fact that they are doing it, or why. Their superiors are usually too isolated to notice this wave form in society and so it not only persists, but grows. The younger and socially disadvantaged are being shown that their only hope is to have and edge on every one else around them all the while the real power make these edges illegal except to those who are less impacted by having them, themselves and their proteges and children and retainers.
Oppps, I mean, Big Blue think that too much money at top, him not getting enough.
BB
So, I asked around with a couple of my older buds and got answers that were similar to many here, but asking around amongst the youngsters, I started getting more and more responses like that of my lady friend. It seems to me like more and more of the younger generation are also running because "that was how we were raised". Here I'm not talking about the direct descendants of runners, but rather something I see as a societal trend. Maybe even my own response accentuates it in a way, even though I metasized and wasn't born like this to be "raised like this".
In essence the gap between the haves and have nots is being exacerbated by the geriatric possibilities now becoming available to those in power. There is no room for the younger generation to access the same kind of upward mobility that even their parents had access to, and this is all across the different socio-economic groupments, not just concentrated at the bottom end.
Minor "upgrades" of the person themselves are becoming common place enough for even the lowly in society, as long as they have the drive to do it, but power and prestige no longer go with these unless a non-traditional route is taken to obtain those desired outcomes of the "upgrading". This in turns forces the ambitious to seek the non-traditional avenues and it forces those in power who do not want to be replaced, and no longer have the impetus to do so as they are no longer feeling the bite of age that subconsciously suggests to us at some point in our lives that "it's time to slow down", to make those avenues illegal in basis.
People, WE are the ultimate illegality of non-tradition. Ours is a path to a species of prestige and power and perhaps to cleaning some of the dead wood out of the top levels and making it possible for the type of upward mobility sought. All of this as unconscious human societal selection, a social Darwinism in action.
In straight forward terms, there are less routes to the end desired and the illegal ones are becoming the straightest routes, if not for the actual Runners themselves, but for the middle aged middle men who are crafting this very response by their own social engineering, unconscious of the fact that they are doing it, or why. Their superiors are usually too isolated to notice this wave form in society and so it not only persists, but grows. The younger and socially disadvantaged are being shown that their only hope is to have and edge on every one else around them all the while the real power make these edges illegal except to those who are less impacted by having them, themselves and their proteges and children and retainers.
Oppps, I mean, Big Blue think that too much money at top, him not getting enough.
BB
BTW, my standard excuse for why my characters run the shadows has always boiled down to one of the two standard shticks:
1.) In pursuit of martial zen mastery which may only emerge like a lotus flower rising from the murky depths of a pond from the chaotic fog of war.
2.) Hates corporations and figures getting paid to do mean things to them is great.
1.) In pursuit of martial zen mastery which may only emerge like a lotus flower rising from the murky depths of a pond from the chaotic fog of war.
2.) Hates corporations and figures getting paid to do mean things to them is great.
QUOTE (Cantankerous @ May 1 2008, 02:01 AM)
I asked this question of a friend and got a weird, to me at least, response from her about it. See, this lady is a, well, a mob princess to put not too fine a point on it and while I won't go in to the details, for her it was because of the way she was raised.
(trimmed)
Oppps, I mean, Big Blue think that too much money at top, him not getting enough.
BB
(trimmed)
Oppps, I mean, Big Blue think that too much money at top, him not getting enough.
BB
I LOVE it!
I like that one BB. An excellent point about the lack of upward mobility as the haves just flat out live longer...
Okay, I guess I want to answer this from a more character driven perspective now myself.
Sean Walker (the first character I played in 3rd ed, and have updated him for 4th). Sean 'Ran because he was looking for something. Something pretty damn specific. He was a mage, aspected sorcery, and didn't much like it. But he needed it. He had a job to do after all.
Both his parents had been spell slingers, and when he was little, Sean thought magic was just the coolest thing in the world. Then something went wrong. Really wrong. He doesn't know if it was a flawed formula, or a misuttered syllable, but something bad came forth from that circle. He was there, being watched over by his Uncle, an Ork street sam (he goblinized, his brother didn't, it was weird, but they stayed close). Sean tries hard not to remember what he saw that night, but it, from time to time, presents itself weather he likes it or not. A horrible, thing, made of fire and wrath. It tore both his parents limb from limb before they could do more then realize something was wrong. It was a lucky shot, on full auto from an assault rifle, that sent the beast packing.
Magic was no longer cool.
Spirits were no longer his friends. He hated them. All of them.
Chuck, his only living relative, raised him as well as he could. And that meant that most of it went into weapons training. From a long string of his uncles contacts, running buddies, and soon to be ex-girlfriends, as well as a few magically inclined friends of his folks, he picked up the rest of his skills. He also managed to land some formal schooling, thanks to a hacker and some doctored school records, and did most of the work towards a degree in law. While it made his uncle happy to think that his nephew might escape the Shadowrunning lifestyle, it didn't. Sean could still here the, things, laughter in the quite places in the library. Could still see it burning against a rainy night sky. He didn't bother to try and pass his Bar exam. When he finished his degree in Law, with an emphasis on magic, he disappeared into the Shadows of Seattle.
He's running now. The mage with the chrome arm and a pair of Super Warhawks. He means to find the thing that took his parents away, and made his potent magic gift a burden. Then he's going to destroy it, or die trying.
He 'Runs to push himself. To find where he gives out, physically, mentally, and mystically, and then keep pushing. He 'Runs to learn more. To try and find the talismonger who sold his parents the formula. To try and find some hint at what it was. Just so that he can call it up once more, and put it down for good.
People say he's crazy. Or maybe obsessed. But that's okay. His team knows what he's worth in a fight, and he got pretty good at talking in law school. They let him push. That's all that counts. He has to be ready when the time comes.
Okay, I guess I want to answer this from a more character driven perspective now myself.
Sean Walker (the first character I played in 3rd ed, and have updated him for 4th). Sean 'Ran because he was looking for something. Something pretty damn specific. He was a mage, aspected sorcery, and didn't much like it. But he needed it. He had a job to do after all.
Both his parents had been spell slingers, and when he was little, Sean thought magic was just the coolest thing in the world. Then something went wrong. Really wrong. He doesn't know if it was a flawed formula, or a misuttered syllable, but something bad came forth from that circle. He was there, being watched over by his Uncle, an Ork street sam (he goblinized, his brother didn't, it was weird, but they stayed close). Sean tries hard not to remember what he saw that night, but it, from time to time, presents itself weather he likes it or not. A horrible, thing, made of fire and wrath. It tore both his parents limb from limb before they could do more then realize something was wrong. It was a lucky shot, on full auto from an assault rifle, that sent the beast packing.
Magic was no longer cool.
Spirits were no longer his friends. He hated them. All of them.
Chuck, his only living relative, raised him as well as he could. And that meant that most of it went into weapons training. From a long string of his uncles contacts, running buddies, and soon to be ex-girlfriends, as well as a few magically inclined friends of his folks, he picked up the rest of his skills. He also managed to land some formal schooling, thanks to a hacker and some doctored school records, and did most of the work towards a degree in law. While it made his uncle happy to think that his nephew might escape the Shadowrunning lifestyle, it didn't. Sean could still here the, things, laughter in the quite places in the library. Could still see it burning against a rainy night sky. He didn't bother to try and pass his Bar exam. When he finished his degree in Law, with an emphasis on magic, he disappeared into the Shadows of Seattle.
He's running now. The mage with the chrome arm and a pair of Super Warhawks. He means to find the thing that took his parents away, and made his potent magic gift a burden. Then he's going to destroy it, or die trying.
He 'Runs to push himself. To find where he gives out, physically, mentally, and mystically, and then keep pushing. He 'Runs to learn more. To try and find the talismonger who sold his parents the formula. To try and find some hint at what it was. Just so that he can call it up once more, and put it down for good.
People say he's crazy. Or maybe obsessed. But that's okay. His team knows what he's worth in a fight, and he got pretty good at talking in law school. They let him push. That's all that counts. He has to be ready when the time comes.
The character I just built, Padre, runs to support his church. He would love to be able to simply sit back and use it to help improve the lives of his "flock," but because the church is on the edge of the Seattle Barrens, the church simply isn't able to sustain itself without... additional funding. Padre has put a lot of effort into getting the church to where it is, and refuses to give up on it. His dream is to retire from Running once his church is self sufficient... but that may take a long, long while.
Me? I'd love to say I do what I do for some lofty dream, to think I'm making a difference for the future of my children out there. What a cozy concept. Wouldn't it be nice if we could all feel so humbled to know that we actually changed the world on a somewhat erratic basis? No, the truth is, I'm here because this is where our world spits out what it can't metabolize. The fragile emotional collective just can't seem to endure a man that is smarter, faster, and stronger. Nothing scares the shit out of a bunch of mundanes more than the feeling of inferiority.
I can't say I blame them really. I've done a ton of terrible drak in my time, but it wasn't always like this. I used to be like them, naive, ignorantly placing trust in the corps that ran my life. What did I know, really? It was simple back then. Just follow the rules and nothing went awry. Ignorance really is bliss.
You know what they say about hindsight though; 20/20 vision and all that garbage. What hindsight really ought be recalled for, is reminding me of one thing: I was absolutely insignificant.
One thing is certain. I decide my significance from here on in.
-Biff Murdoc
I can't say I blame them really. I've done a ton of terrible drak in my time, but it wasn't always like this. I used to be like them, naive, ignorantly placing trust in the corps that ran my life. What did I know, really? It was simple back then. Just follow the rules and nothing went awry. Ignorance really is bliss.
You know what they say about hindsight though; 20/20 vision and all that garbage. What hindsight really ought be recalled for, is reminding me of one thing: I was absolutely insignificant.
One thing is certain. I decide my significance from here on in.
-Biff Murdoc
Thanks guys. 
Hey another one that might be relevant. An old friend of mine from back in the day. He said he ran for cheap thrills when it started. This guy was a freak. He was one of the most competent deckers I'd ever met back in the day when decking was THE king thing, a guy who could have written his own ticket at any double A and a couple of the triples and lived like a sultan, but he was even more an adrenaline junkie than I was and he had a completely devil may care attitude that changed at one point and became something much deeper. He was lost in 2.0, but damn, he was a guy who woke up as a Shadow. The Orcs down in Wilhelm Park may owe more to him than any of their live in leadership and they never knew him, may not know half of what he did for them and he never cared.
Social conscience is what I'm getting at. Social conscience and a deep desire to tilt at wind mills. Some Runners run because being Don Quixote is better than being rich or famous or anything else.
BB
Hey another one that might be relevant. An old friend of mine from back in the day. He said he ran for cheap thrills when it started. This guy was a freak. He was one of the most competent deckers I'd ever met back in the day when decking was THE king thing, a guy who could have written his own ticket at any double A and a couple of the triples and lived like a sultan, but he was even more an adrenaline junkie than I was and he had a completely devil may care attitude that changed at one point and became something much deeper. He was lost in 2.0, but damn, he was a guy who woke up as a Shadow. The Orcs down in Wilhelm Park may owe more to him than any of their live in leadership and they never knew him, may not know half of what he did for them and he never cared.
Social conscience is what I'm getting at. Social conscience and a deep desire to tilt at wind mills. Some Runners run because being Don Quixote is better than being rich or famous or anything else.
BB
>I felt myself being drawn to the shadows when I began my training.
For me I put up with the barghests, and human replica sec guards, twisted corpers and dirty hell holes for one reason. Art.
The shadows has a strange flow to it, almost… tangible. I find that I can attain a state of pre-birth awareness when on a run. There is a sort of existence state that I am in when I go through a mission. I am alive in a way I never was before I started running. Life for me really only exists during a run, in between I am in limbo.
I call it my art. There is nothing more beautiful than a well crafted run, and the shadows are my canvas.
>Warmaster Lah
>�Sword and Mind for Hire�
---
>I once knew a guy that ran the shadows because of his fetish. It seemed he could only get turned when he was getting shot at. The sad fragger.
>The Tick
---
>For me I didn’t even realize I was running the shadows until I had a revelation.
I’m third generation. I’m a hacker, and my mother was a decker, and my father was one of the faded turned decker. And my grandmamma was an ooooold school O.G. hacker pre-awakening.
This is the life I grew up in so it always seemed normal to me. It was a rude awakening in my pre-teens when I realized we were the ones not living in the regular world. But the idea of toiling in some school so I could toil away in some cubicle sickens me. If I had to work a 9 to 8, I would hang myself.
>diode
>�Ah yes the Net is Vast…�
For me I put up with the barghests, and human replica sec guards, twisted corpers and dirty hell holes for one reason. Art.
The shadows has a strange flow to it, almost… tangible. I find that I can attain a state of pre-birth awareness when on a run. There is a sort of existence state that I am in when I go through a mission. I am alive in a way I never was before I started running. Life for me really only exists during a run, in between I am in limbo.
I call it my art. There is nothing more beautiful than a well crafted run, and the shadows are my canvas.
>Warmaster Lah
>�Sword and Mind for Hire�
---
>I once knew a guy that ran the shadows because of his fetish. It seemed he could only get turned when he was getting shot at. The sad fragger.
>The Tick
---
>For me I didn’t even realize I was running the shadows until I had a revelation.
I’m third generation. I’m a hacker, and my mother was a decker, and my father was one of the faded turned decker. And my grandmamma was an ooooold school O.G. hacker pre-awakening.
This is the life I grew up in so it always seemed normal to me. It was a rude awakening in my pre-teens when I realized we were the ones not living in the regular world. But the idea of toiling in some school so I could toil away in some cubicle sickens me. If I had to work a 9 to 8, I would hang myself.
>diode
>�Ah yes the Net is Vast…�
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