When it comes to the stereotypical corporate Mr. Johnson archetype, what do you think of? My mind pictures a pharmaceutical salesman: Caucasian, perfect teeth, great body, stylish designer clothes, a fake tan, and a slightly "oh-I-can't-believe-I'm-working-with-you" attitude.

In my continuing to effort to think outside the box and bring something new to my Shadowrun table I've been playing with ideas for new corporate Johnson characters that break the mold:

Pushing aside the assault of AROs, advertisements and virtual come-ons from other Infinity patrons you spot the Johnson. She’d be hard to miss as she’s utterly gorgeous. Sporting a shimmering red corset and a low-hanging red skirt that appears to be made of glass beads, her hair twirls out in black ringlets tipped with white baubles as she spins to her commlink’s own music set. With eyelids ringed by jet mascara, presents herself as a hybrid fashion model and a gypsy. She has a good three meter diameter to herself as three ork muscle boys wearing black vests and white banded collar shirts maintain a perimeter. You’re positive that pressed up against pecs and biceps that bulge like grapefruits are firearms.

The Johnson halts her dervish spin as you approach. When you make visual contact her eyes go wide and an enormous smile appears on lips covered in blue paint. She skips over to you like a little girl, past one of her body guards and shrieks, “Oh my gods, it’s so you! You’re so you! Oh my gods!”

She gleefully shuffles for one of the club's many spiral staircases and with a deranged grin gestures for you to follow. One of the orks leads the way and the remaining two follow behind at a respectful distance. The stairway leads you up from the dance floor to a catwalk overlooking the club below. On the second floor are some of the best high-security meeting rooms in the Sprawl. Decorated by color scheme, a few can be seen from the ground while with the others, one wouldn’t even know were there. The lead ork stops in front of the door to the Violet Room and punches in a code on a wall-mounted keypad. The door unlocks and he holds it open for the Johnson and for you. Ms. Johnson is definitely a high-roller as you’re only a step away from the fabled Ultraviolet Room, reserved only for the most special of special guests.

“Thank you, Louis,” Ms. Johnson tells the lead ork sweetly as he closes the door, sealing your team in with her. As soon as the door clicks, the Johnson’s child-like demeanor drops and she's all business. “Take as seat,” she half-suggests, half-orders as she fills a glass with water from a carafe on the oak table.

Ms. Johnson’s real name is Esmerelda Murray and her official title this week is “Lead Projects Synergist” with the small Ares Macrotech Seattle branch. She reports directly to the regional manager, Karen King, and acts as a face and contact for any shadow work revolving around Ares Global Entertainment and its subsidiaries on the West Coast. She’s a former dancer and simsense actress in children’s entertainment (remember Princess Grapefruit from Angel Lawyer Meow-Meow?) but has undergone radical cosmetic surgery to alter her appearance.

Esmerelda loves to dance. She’s also a hologram projected by the club’s SOTA projection system originating from her office at Ares Plaza. She will flinch away (and draw the ire of the very real, very physical bodyguards) if any of the runners attempt to touch her. Any runner succeeding in an Intuition + Perception 5 test will notice very slight shifting patterns of digital light running across her form, that she emits no odor and that her skin appears perfect.

So how about you? What kind of new twist on the corporate Johnson have you devised?

I always love to share -

Blake Foster

"I work in people to people relations, y'know?"

Blake is a skinny, earnest looking elf from South Boston. He lets his straight blonde hair grow out but sticks it in a ponytail stuck under a BoSox baseball cap most of the time. He's always seems to have a nervous twitch and is constantly looking around, squinting or staring at something just off in the distance. Along with the BoSox cap, he's usually wearing some other form of sports paraphenalia, like a uniform and shorts in the summer or a jacket in the fall. He's fond of looking like the kids hawking tickets and collectibles outside of Fenway, since it's an easy cover to portray.

Blake is something of a social butterfly, which is what makes him such a great fixer. He is equally comfortable talking at a ballgame as he is sitting in a diner discussing business over a plate of clams and fries. He's very charming and seems to know just the right words to say to just the right people; some people say it's a magical talent, even, though Blake has always stated that he's just a plain mundane.

He never refers to runs as jobs. They're "favors" - for friends, y'know? He doesn't take too much off of the top but he is careful with newbies. His big contracts usually go to the people that have proven they deserve it.

Why does he fix? It's fun. He's always been the guy to know the guy that needs a guy to do a favor for a guy. He's just an equal opportunist looking to help some friends make some dough.

Blake loves sports, especially the Boston Red Sox. He can't stand cheaters and never gambles, since he feels it's against the spirit of the game. There's been whispers he's set up a few of the more prominent bookies and loan sharks to fall right in front of the police for "ruining" his favorite hobby. His favorite places for a meet are around Fenway (sometimes during a game, right in the bleachers, with him leaning over chairs and watching the game as they talk) or his favorite, The Big Hit Bar & Grill right across the street from the stadium. He's not really one for shadows and skullduggery, mind.

***

BRodda: expect an email within the next day or two.

Personally my favorite Johnson wore older wrinkled shirts, seemed disorganized (But always managed to find the right datachip after a few minutes of shuffling through his scratched and dented briefcase.) and smelled of old whisky and cigar smoke and was friendly kind-of like a favorite uncle that your parents both hate but tolerate because he's family.

He was bad news though, although he hated his job and honestly cared for the Runners working under him (As much as any Johnson can anyways.) he was the one that they used for long term goals where it was understood that none of the talent would survive after the goal was finally completed.

I've got another one that I haven't sat down and really fleshed out yet because I'm a) lazy and b) still playing with the concept some, but, here goes:

Andy Mane -

"Would you like to become a taste tester?"

It's a question asked of you by a bright and bubbly mid-thirties caucasian woman with squinched together eyes and a big smile on her pastel pink lips - the same shade used on the walls of this very same cakery. Not very many people would expect to find a black market weapons dealer nee Johnson in a place like this, but then, who would really expect people like you to walk in and ask to see the Dessert of the Day?

"Are you all sitting down? Would you like something to drink?"

She sits prim and perfect on her chair, delicately balancing a pink and white china teapot in one hand and a pink and white china teacup in another. Her hair is long and brown and down to her shoulders and straight, her face is rouged, her attire a pink shirt and blue jeans lightly dusted with cake flour and an apron with splotches of batter and icing.

You politely decline the tea but still she sets down perfectly cut pieces of cake in front of each of you. Thugz, the ork sammy with more 'ware than brains, tries to figure out exactly how to work such a dainty fork with his oversized hands.

"I'm so glad that you could come at such short notice! I was hoping to have this done by myself but - oh, the cake business! Very busy! Very busy!" She shakes her head. "So busy. I need you to sneak into the local Ares warehouse and retrieve some stock an aquaintance of mine was supposed to deliver to me last week. It seems his bosses got a little wind of what was going on and promptly sent him off somewhere across the country. Or, at least I hope they did. Mr. Samuel was a very fine business partner. Are you sure you don't want tea?"

Again you decline. Thugz has elected to simply eat with his grime caked fingers. Your Johnson looks disdainful, but continues.

"Of course the standard fee will be beamed over to your matrix contact. I've got the line ready and I'm simply waiting for him to open up a - ah, there we are." She unfocuses and refocuses a second later. "See? I'm not such a bad lady now am I?" There comes the bright smile again. "I would like this delivered to me by eight o' clock tonight. My shop will be closed so just come around the back. I'll be busy baking for tomorrow!"

Quickly she stands and scoops up the plates still mostly full of cake. Thugz looks disheartened. "Oh, did you want more? I don't see why I can't send you home with something. I'll even make it part of your payment!"

Outside of Pie In the Sky Bakery and back in your van, the team shoots a look back at Thugz. "What? It's good cake." He replies, holding up the pink paper bag with white lace atop it.

Ever played (or read) Ping Time?

Leo "Mr. Johnson" Getz: Former Street Fixer gone Corporate.

A slimy human of Hispanic appearance (He's from Spain), he dresses in bad suits, has bad hair, but obviously has presence and position. He's very knowledgeable of the streets and is not tricked by most of the things that typical (Or even Atypical) Shadowrunners do to unnerve "Corporates". Typically has a bodyguard (A huge black-haired Russian named "Typhoon"), but is hardly incapable of fighting himself. Typically hires runners to do 'runs against smaller shipping and arms companies.

He also performs the occasional Shadowrun for his Corporation, and knows the ins and outs of the business better than most of the 'Runners he hires. Mostly it's for jobs he can't be arsed to do himself.

Has a driver named "Wheels" Hernandez that he absolutely hates. Typhoon "Tests" the Rigger's Cocoon with his FN-HAR before getting into the vehicle every time.

(This one goes out to my old group! We did it, guys, we took out UNA, but at a high, high cost...)

Leo Getz makes me laugh. Someone has seen Lethal Weapon. =)

Frank "Grossvater" Dreiberg: Probably an AG Chemie Johnson, or maybe freelancer?

"Oh, that gang in our neighbourhood, they just assaulted our grandson - and when I told them off, they killed my dear Elise's cat. That has to stop - I can offer you my life insurance money if you can help us. It's not much, but they're just strong when they intimidate the elderly and children. In my old days, I'd have taken care of that myself..."

His nickname (used by my players behind his back) translates as Grandpa, and that's how he looks like. He's a 70-80 year old man who sports a well-trimmed moustache, white hair, and a general aura that reminds people of Santa Claus. Conservative clothes, wears glasses. From what they've seen, my players are pretty certain he's actually 30 years old at most and had extensive plastic surgery. His bodyguard, Elise "Grossmutter" Dreiberg (Grandma) is heavily cybered (implanted weapons) and went through the same plastic surgery treatment, making her look like a 70-80 years old human woman. They specialize in getting the dirt to work far under price, and are pretty successful, although most people only fall for their masquerade once. They usually downplay the complications of the job because of that.

Jack Grayson

"Listen up boot, I've got a contract for ya that ya need ta not screw up!"

A former marine DI Jack Grayson did his twenty and retired honoorably. Unfortunately the benefits package he recieves is pitiful. Not only that but retirement is boring the hell out of him. Due to his skill in putting men together and making them gel as a unit he found it easy to find a position with Ares paramilitary subcontracting services. He is a crusty, grizzled old veteran. Though if you can prove yourself he will show you respect. His tenure in the Marines instilled in him a sense of honor and a loyalty to his men. This straight-shooter attitude has given him a great rep. After all, with the trouble he went to, to train his men to behave professionally the last thing he wants is to send them into the grinder.

This is my favorite Johnson from my recently completed long-running campaign. He was also the primary villain of the first big plot arc. He got killed, and I miss him.

Director William Love: Director of a mysterious quasi-governmental paramilitary organization ("The Agency", name is never mentioned)

"Hello {birth name of character that was supposed to be unknown}..."

Director Love is a human and a mountain of a man, 6'8" and bulging with muscle. He wears an impeccably clean, shiny black business suit. His voice is deep and gravelly, and when he speaks he barely resists smirking. He always knows more than he says, and his secrets will come back to bite you. But he pays well, very well.

Love had a respectable career in Army Special Forces, before a mission against a den of wendigos changed everything. He became involved in a program dedicated to engineering a better soldier, through any means necessary. Cyberzombies, extreme bioware augmentation (for which he was a test subject), even attempts to weaponize HMHVV and SURGE. This program became the Agency, with the help of a mysterious benefactor.

Love's jobs are dangerous and they usually require acquiring rare or experimental technology. It's probably a bad thing that he's accumulating all this power. But the money's too good to pass up.

Daegann (of the Character Generator fame) had a very peculiar Johnson. He looked like the elf decker archetype from the 2nd edition book. From what we could gather from his personal history he was some burned-out decker who faced one too many psychotropic IC. Anyway, he'll ask you to meet him with a far too obvious sign (such as wearing a large flower on your clothes), looks always utterly and completely clueless, will mutter something about the need for 4 runners ("You're 4, ok, that's good. Four is the good number, 3 wouldn't be enough, 5 are too much. Four is good. That's good, you're four."). He's followed by a dog who doesn't look much sanier than his master, and he'll use him to complete the team if there aren't enough runners.

Another special Johnson (or maybe just corporate guy) I'd like my players to meet would be a typical guy in a suit... but with a day-glo Mohawk and piercings. Some way of saying that "nothing is sacred" and that even alternate culture are a corporate thing.

I hate to bring WoD stuff into shadowrun, but when making a Mr. Johnson character, I think it is a good idea to keep the WoD concepts of Nature and Demeanor in mind.

That is, with every character who wants to conceal his identity when hiring shadowrunners (hence taking the name Mr. Johnson), there in a conflict between who he really is, and who he wants the runners to think he is.

Some classic examples of this are the Johnson who's never done this before and is scared out of his mind, while wanting to act in control of the situation. Or the Johnson who acts like the runners friend, but is really planning to double cross them.

A infinite amount of variation is of course possible, but it is important to remember that a Mr. Johnson (by definition) is never who he says he is.

My favourite Mr. Johnson's name IS Mr. Johnson.

He finds it very comical.

Make that an infinite amount of variation with one obvious exception .

One of my favorite "Mr. Johnson" is named Mr. Smith.

He likes to throw runners off. And if one of them recognizes the old reference (by that point old), he might like them just a bit more.

But what if the Johnson is who he says he is.

"Good evening, I am Lowfyr. And you will work for me, or I eat you."

I can see this thread degenerating into the ol' "Johnson's can't be anonymous" debate...

Anyway, IMG shadowrunning doesn't follow a static model (i.e. Corp --> Johnson --> Runner --> Rival Corp). That happens of coarse, but the shadows are a convoluted underworld of illegal business wherein anyone, at some point or another, needs to pay someone to do something illegal. Any NPC (or PC for that matter) could potentially act as a Johnson in some capacity. One day you might be hired by the smarmy corporate face and the next by an ork rights activist and the next by a Yakuza boss...

From a storytelling perspective the Johnson should set the tone for the type of adventure. The fake plastic corp Johnson says "watch out for a double cross", the ork rights activist says "be prepared for a moral imperative" and the Yakuza boss says "i hope you're willing to do anything to get the job done... or else..." Its really all about the story.

In the past before I let my players get their feet wet in the big kid pool, I used to run them through some street level runs to let them work out any character/team problems, as well as get them some extra cash, and a bit of Karma.
These runs were handed out to them through a very connected but low key Fixer by the name of "Smokey"

Smokey was about 5'10 and 350lbs and looked like a cross between Marlon Brando and Carol O'Conner. He was balding with a greasy complexion and sported a bad comb-over. Smokey always wore cheap gray tweed suits with white shirt and black tie, he even had a matching gray Fedora. He always looked liked he slept in his clothes and was never seen without a lit cigar clenched between his teeth. He always met the runners at his favorite BBQ joint, to discuss biz over dinner and drinks. Matter of fact no one ever saw Smokey leave the restaurant, quite a few people believed he lived there and slept at "His" private booth.

"Hello boys, pull up a seat and order what ya want. Hungry? Try the Brisket, its good!"

"Hey toots, give me friends here another round"

"Ever try barbecued lobster?"

In one of my current games, I have a nameless troll who serves as the stereotypical Johnson. I would go into details but he is in one of my forum games at present. Let's just say that he is not exactly what he seems.

Then he would be a 'Mr. Johnson' now would he? You would be working for Lowfyr, not Mr. Johnson .

In seriousness, the term 'Mr. Johnson' implies that the person you are working for has taken on a false name/identity (ie, 'Mr. Johnson') to cover for himself while he hires you to perform various criminal enterprise. There are a huge number of reasons why he might do this, beside it being a prudent precaution on the face of things. But classically it was to ensure that the corp that hired you had a layer of deniability between you and them. As in you can't tell who hired you for a job if you don't know. Shadowrunners being deniable assets in this way is pretty classic. But of course the mob or yakuza, or Betty down the street might have other reasons for hiring you under a false identity (deniability being only a fringe benifit).

Now if you want to expand the term Mr. Johnson (or more generally just Johnson) to include anyone who hires a shadowrunner, the sure, your going to have people (foolish people probably) who don't care about revealing there true identity to a group of mercinary criminals when they hire them for other criminal enterprises.

But to me the term 'Johnson' will always imply someone taking on a false identity to employ a shadowrunner. And for such characters I still think it is important to make note of what difference there might be between who he says he is, and who he really is.

Mr Johnson is (by Canon) the one who runs the meet, does the hiring and pays the cred for the job. SR4 p 284.

There's always the ex-runner Johnson. Either retired or still in the game, looking for a team to help him with a job too big to handle on his own, and rich enough to hire them himself instead of calling his fixer. Here's a description from a run I put together:

Nice pull, did you have that memorized or look it up?


yup, so that means whoever the runners get the job from is "The Johnson" but he/she/it/they don't have actually have call themselves by that name or even remain anonymous. Only way I can think to be truly anonymous "Johnson" in SR these days is to Snail Mail a printed letter that was printed, folded and sealed all in a sterile box so to avoid any prints and DNA getting onto the letter

The current way I envision a meet with a "Johnson" going on these days is during the biz talk the Hacker/Tecnho has multiple AR windows running searches against the "Johnson", or even attempting to hack into the "Johnson"'s PAN to find out who he really is and then relaying the info to the rest of the team via AR.

Privacy and secrets in this SR day and age? Only because someone hasn't bothered to look yet.

OK, my Mr. Johnson (Named Johnson, and is portrayed in my stories) is anonymous. Sort of.

After becoming a Street Johnson (Mid-2055), he put out an open contest on the ShadowLand BBS to anyone who can correctly identify him, with evidence. And say which AAA-Corp he used to work for. 1000 to get in, 20% goes to ShadowLand/ShadowSEA, the rest goes into a pot. Winner takes all.

So far, it's 2070, and noone has succeeded yet. He's given far too many false trails. Even SIN Registry can't figure out which one is him, save that he IS a citizen. He blames it on Crash 2.0 "muddling" his SIN. Before that, it wasn't as much an issue.

So far, the only hint he's given is that it's a AAA-Corp he owns stock in, which leaves out Aztechnology and Seader-Krupp.

Default Johnsons look like "Eurotrash"?

http://static.flickr.com/45/151064234_7e41def87f.jpg

And female, since most pharma corps hire former cheerleaders as reps.

In my games, "Johnson" was slang. You could spot the inexperienced client by the fact that he introduced himself as Mr. Johnson, and the inexperienced runners expected the client to use the name. But professional Johnsons would never use the name.

Mr. Johnson is more of a term of respect. No matter what anyone says their name is you call them Mr. Johnson out of professional courtesy. Like in the service industry saying "hello Mr./Ms. (enter last name here.)"

For the Johnson I used he was once a high powered Johnson named Archie Langer who used to land big jobs for Ares. However he has actually been fired for excessive use of BTL chips that then began to interfere with his professional life. He has fallen from grace and now lives on the streets. However he has just recently managed to pull himself out of the gutter to try and hire a group of Shadowrunners by an "anonymous third party." Generally the pay is good but he will put your on a suicide mission or at least what would normally be considered one (although he is generally unaware of this as he knows nothing about the actual operation.)

The two body guards flanking him are actually two other BTL junkies that he loosely calls friends, and has paid them a few cred so that he can look a little more respectable. They each sport new black actioner business suits, tinted sunglasses, and pistols (although they don't know how to use them.) All three of them have a data jack implanted in them (the Johnson has alpha while the other two have standard grade.) However despite his brand new suite and slicked back hair if the runners look hard enough they can notice that he didn't quite clean out all of the grime behind his ears. The Johnson also reeks of perfume and soap. Archie used to be a shrewed negotiator, but after a while he will break down after enough pressure is applied and tell the party what is really going on... that is he will try to until his head explodes from the implanted Cranial microbomb that was installed without his prior knowledge smearing the walls and runners with blood, bone, and brains.

One of the more amusing johnsons that I have used was actually a ex-military officer of some renown, who after being wounded during a mission was retired for a "desk job". This particular job entailed internal security, and making sure that high tech military hardware didn't simply "fall off a truck somewhere". To this end, he employed runners to sleuth out the locations of stolen shipments and recover them.

I ran one Johnson back in the day....First, he prefered to dress in a long coat, jeans, steel-toed boots, and a t-shirt, wore mirrorshades, and had a pair modern-tech reproduction Colt Peace-maker styled revolvers. He always tested his runners before he started giving them real work. Their first job was always to make a pick up at a certain deli, and deliver it to him at a destination of his choosing in a certain time frame. They would be ambushed on the way by a rather heavily armed go-gang(uncluding one guy in an armoured sports car with a cannon mounted in the passenger side). This go-gang atually worked for the Johnson, and was recording the whole encounter, to see how the Runners handle it, etc.

The delivery? The Johnson's lunch. What? That deli has a really good proschuttio.....

So, the gangers didn't get mad when they lost some of their own in the firefight?

The team didn't get mad for effectively having been double crossed right off the bat?

Life is cheap in the Sixth World Chummer, life is cheap.

Only thing cheaper than life in the Sixth World is a Verbal Contract...

Hey, look at what Shadowrunners sign!

Only the corporate ones. And if you're running an Anglo-centric campaign.

If you're in Japan they all look like Takeshi Kitano.

That goes for the Johnson, too, though. Most runner teams that got attacked by people with autocannons, and then told it was a "test", would kill the Johnson without any qualms.

Assuming that the Johnson is dumb enough to let the Runners know what is really in the package and that he set them up of course.

I was assuming both were the case, but I may have been reading things into Cardul's post that weren't there. Even so, it's a set of circumstances that would make most runners suspicious.

Agreed, but I can see a Johnson pulling such a stunt off provided he was careful to only meet with the talent from a position of strenght and to appear to pay extra well, nuyen should go along way towards smoothing any ruffled feathers at being set up.

I do agree that it is risk on the J's part to have such a transparent test, but I think that most Johnsons who intend on working with the same team on multiple missions would send them on a "test run" or two so to speak.

When you go on a run you expect that someone is going to come after you. That being said the party should still be able to see the double cross if they are good enough.... or have divination - the GMs nightmare.

It depends on the Johnson. My last Johnson went by Mr. Brakenhaus and he wore his Sader Krupp pin on his jacket. It was his subtle way of saying to the group "If you screw this up there won't be enough of you left to sell."

They still have no idea who he is. The hacker was able to figure out which subsidiary was paying for the job, but that was about it. His Duke Nukem look-alike guard named Hans might be easier though.

I will say that there is a huge difference in my games between a Johnson and an employer. Fat Tony works for the mob and hires out some work to runners, but he's not really a "Johnson". Johnson's are strictly corporate employers.

The plastic johnson's pretty much was see at 2nd teir. The good ones treat us like professionals and usually have an understanding of what they are hiring.


"What ever you want, Leo gets, Get it?"