[Shadowrun] Broken Glass and Broken Dreams

[GleefulNihilism]

Thanks for the Feedback.

[AlphaZ]

[Zazaq]

And yeah thanks a lot for the feedback Beychaliban, a love when gm's do this.

[Dvorak]

Can't decide what to make.. I don't have any experience and I don't know alot about matrix stuff so I don't think I should do Decker or Rigger, But if it is not that hard then I will go for that. Anyone have any thoughts?

[Blackfyre]

I think so far the apps are a bit short on arcane types. That is mages/shamans, not adepts. If you're looking for a niche, that is. If not, just go for what you like, regardless of other applications.

[Silk]

[Ericg1s]

I added a couple of lines to my app to give an idea of how Nick Chopper might mesh with the team and the type of character I am thinking of building. He doesn't have any magic, and I understand if there isn't room for him on the team because you don't want to over-crowd the team with generics cyberpunks. The whole point of this character is to be a generic shadowpunk, who stands out due to his determination to be a person rather than his quirks.

[Blackfyre]

I know it's unsolicited advice, Ericg1s, but what the heck, maybe it helps. Currently your app is pretty hard to read because there is so little formatting. It would likely help a great deal if you put all the topic names in bold. I.e.:

Name / Alias: Nick Chopper
Metatype: Dwarf
Intended Role: Slightly Cybered Brawler/Biker (no control rig.)
Concept: Cyberpunk style shadow operative. More former ganger than street samurai.

Additionally, putting an empty line in front of and after longer texts, for example the background, would also help with legibility.

[Zazaq]

Quick question for anybody, I get that not all cyber weapons are really concealable, so where does the sub-machine gun stand? Is it fairy inconspicuous, like could you get away with a lie you just had a really nasty injury that got patched up?

[Trinity]

Seven Street Name: Sarah Seven, or just Seven Hair: Pink (dyed, naturally black) Eyes: Blue Ht: 5'7" Wt: 119 Age: (physically) 11 (looks around 20) Gender: Female Race: Human (Clone) Place of Birth Vancouver, Salish-Shidhe Archetype: Combat Medic   Description: Sarah is a lovely young woman in her early 20's with angular features. Her medium length hair is dyed a vivid shade of pink, the left side over her ear is cut short and dyed white (she's trying something new). She has three earrings in each ear and about half the time a simple stud nose ring on the left side. The thing that stands out the most is the Roman numeral VII on her left cheek. She also has a pair of ears tattooed on her left shoulder (running from her chest to her neck). Most of the time either one or both of her hands up to her forearms are bandaged sort of like a boxer wears but not nearly as heavy, and they look like medical bandages not sports bandages. She still has a fairly pronounced Vancouver accent. Likes: Nilla Wafers (cookies), Neil the Ork Barbarian, helping people, Chromatic Metal, Maria Mercurial, Chickens, Playing in the Rain. Dislikes: Being a clone, trying to come up with the money for her medicine, Wednesdays, Mustard, Sharks. Personality: Personality: Sarah is still trying to figure that one out honestly. Should she be Sarah Watson? Should she be someone totally different? Or should she be a little of Sarah Watson and a little something new? The pink hair, tattoo's and smoking are definitely new, Seven has the need to stand out from Sarah Watson, but she isn't sure how much. She may have a good chunk of Sarah Watson's memories and all her skills but she doesn't have enough experience to have figured it out yet. In general Seven is a decent person who just wants to help people. Subconsciously she feels like she's not a real person, therefore real people should come first. So she takes chances that others probably wouldn't risk. Seven really likes cartoon chickens for whatever reason (they're her favorite animal) and she has one on her key chain (a scaled down version of Mrs. Clucker (whom she misses)). She'll often use it and bad attempts to throw her voice to try to make someone else smile. The beating she took from that troll the first night she met Trish got her to thinking that she really needed to learn how to defend herself. She was so used to, well Sarah was so used to living in a penthouse with armed guards all the time that she hadn't even thought about what she was going to do on her own. Her daddy had taken her to the gun range when she was a teenage and had someone teach her how to shoot (and being a smart ass she picked the biggest automatic she could find, but she stuck with it until she had the basic operating procedures down). It kinda made her feel like a bad ass, since none of her girlfriends could do that. Seven tries to keep a fairly upbeat attitude, on the surface at least. She does get depressed though, be it from pondering the existential nature of her being a clone, or from leaving behind her, Sarah's, family, or from having a long term illness which isn't easy to keep up the money for the treatments, and often times they're missed even with Trish's help. She tries not to let anyone know though, and she can't really describe why. As for the Shadows: Sarah took an oath to do no harm. Seven didn't, though she does her best to abide by it even though. So she'll shoot someone if she has to, but would rather not. If someone forces it though she'll kill them. She doesn't do wetwork for the most part, but if it's someone named Child Raper the Baby Eater well she'll gladly put a bullet in that piece of trash. As for property destruction, she feels well stuff is just stuff for the most part, now blowing up a little mom and pop store might not be something she'd be willing to do but corp losses she's completely fine with. It's the same for stealing. She kinda has a Robin Hood outlook.   November 2nd 2064 Vancouver, Salish-Shidhe. Sarah Watson woke up that morning like she did most mornings, with a big yawn and no desire to actually get out of bed. It was a Sunday so she didn't have any classes today, so it was a half hour later when she finally rolled out of her comforter and headed for the shower. It had snowed pretty hard last night so Sarah had no desire to leave the house at all, besides her parents were both gone and she had the place to herself. Her father was the Vice President of Universal Omnitech, while UO wasn't a direct competitor of Novatech, the Novatech IPO was something that they were all doing double duty over regardless. After her shower she got a cup of cappuccino and a bagel then sat down and logged into the matrix. The first thing she saw was a little news blurb popping up about reports of a computer malfunction during the IPO. She couldn't help but wonder if that was a good or bad thing. She went about her business for a few moments before the host began to grow darker. What the hell? Sarah thought looking around. Then her entertainment feed started to flicker. “For fricks sake.” She said, noticing other people were looking annoyed as well. Sarah looked back down at her feed ready to put in a ticket when the words mutated into mist filled with horrible faces with mouths open in silent screams. She quickly dropped the feed, officially starting to get freaked. The counter Sarah was leaning against started turning wet and sticky and it felt like it was actually touching her. “Is this some kind of ha...” She stopped as she felt something wrap around her legs. Looking down she screamed. The floor had turned into this black rotting looking morass with thick heavy tendrils coming out of it to wrap around her legs. Sarah screamed in pain as they bit into her flesh and burned her at the same time. She tried to log out, she tried to contact the sysop, she tried to find something to hold onto. But she wasn't able to do any of those things. All around her similar things were happening to the other icons in that host. “Please someone help!” She screamed in terror, tears flowing down her cheeks as the tendrils drug her inexorably downwards, her knee's, to her hips, to her chest. This can't be happening, this can't be happening. Ran through her mind over and over again as she was pulled down, she kept trying to log out, trying anything right up until the moment it engulfed her completely... The funeral for Sarah Watson was held two weeks later November 16th 2064. ------------------------ Sarah's father couldn't accept the death of his only child and as Vice President of Universal Omnitech he had considerable wealth and power at his disposal. He ordered several dozen clones grown, he was going to bring back his daughter no matter what. UO is the worlds leader in Genetech and Biotechnology so they were ahead of the pack with cloning. Combine that with millions of nuyen spent of the Watson's own funds made considerable progress over the years. The first six clones didn't work, their brains weren't sophisticated enough, or the cognitive planters/personafix didn't work right and drove them mad, they just died, ect. There were six different clones, and six different reasons for failure. Number 7 however, lucky number seven, looked to work. Seven had been grown differently then the first six, and enhanced with several bioware systems to help it cope with the strain that it was put under during the process. September 12th 2074 Sarah Watson woke up. Sarah was very confused when she awoke in a bed in a hospital, she had no idea how she got there and she was missing significant pieces of her memory. Eventually the doctors told her about the Crash 2.0 and how she had been badly hurt by it, they told her she'd been in stasis since then until they could find a way to fix the damage she'd sustained. They also told her that it was invertible that chunks of her memory would be lost, there was nothing that they could do about it. Sarah sat through it all pretty numbly, she knew she should be probably freaking out about it but she just... didn't. It was a huge effort to try to reincorporate into her life her parents did everything they could, but eleven years was a long time to readjust to. All through it something just felt wrong, like when you have a word on the tip of your tongue but you just can't spit it out. There was also the fact that she didn't remember that she had an eidetic memory, but she did now, she also didn't remember being so graceful, but she was now. She was told that it had been necessary to do some genetic modification of her to fix the damage caused by the crash. She knew she should probably be freaking out about that, but she just didn't. As the months wore on she had nightmares, nightmares of being suspended in a tank full of liquid, nightmare flashes of seeing rows of herself in similar tanks, nightmares of surgeries and pain. It got to the point where she couldn't sleep. She was taken to the doctors again who said it was natural, and that they'd pass in time. She didn't believe them, there was something wrong, something they weren't telling her. It got to the point where Sarah couldn't handle it anymore. In a way what happened next was her first run. She “borrowed” her daddies security credentials and late one night she used them to sneak into the medical facility. There was a memory, or something, she couldn't describe it but it lead her into project SJW. Those are my initials she thought as she ran her hands across the letters on the door. Her fathers security credentials were able to get her inside. What she saw inside damn near broke her. There were rows and rows of her all in cylinders of some kind of bluish liquid, all of them had a roman numeral tattooed across their cheek. It was just like in her dreams. She fell to her knees as a rush of splintered memories flowed through the crack in her persona that had opened up by seeing the others. It took her a while but she finally got up and read through the medical files. They told her everything. Sarah had been attending medical school, so she understood a most of it. Even with the truth in front of her it was a hard thing to swallow. She didn't know what to do with all this information, she ended up just sitting on it for a couple weeks. She finally came to the conclusion that she couldn't live this life, she wasn't sure if she was Sarah Jane Watson or what she was, but she knew she couldn't stay. Dear Mom and Dad Dear Mr. and Mrs. Watson Dear Mindy and Vince I don't even know what I should call you. I don't even know what to call myself... I know Sarah Watson died in the Crash 2.0. She must have been so scared, I... All I know is that all I am is that woman's clone. Does that even make me a person? Am I your daughter? Do I even have a soul? I don't know. Should I thank you? Should I love you? Should I hate you? Am I defective for even asking these questions, for knowing what I am? I don't know. I know things that only Sarah knew, I have her feelings, does that make me her? Even though she died eleven years ago? It would be so much easier to not know, to just be Sarah. I wish I would have just ignored the dreams, ignored that scratching feeling in my brain pushing me to know what I couldn't remember. Maybe I wish I'd never been created. I can't stay here, I don't know what I'm going to do but I won't find my answers here, half in and half out of this life. Please don't try to find me, and please don't awaken my sisters, I guess they'd be sisters anyway. Just let them sleep. Goodbye Mom and Dad... Sarah Seven PS: I left all of Sarah's stuff just how it was, though wanted to take Mrs. Clucker*, but I guess you should have it to remember me her by. ((*Sarah's stuffed chicken she had since she was a little girl.)) Two months after leaving that tear stained letter on her parents counter Sarah found herself in [Insert place here]. She'd “borrowed” a little money from her family to get her started trying to figure out what to do with herself. The first thing she did was dye her hair pink, it was something that Sarah had always wanted to do, but she was going to be a doctor so she couldn't do that. Then she got some tattoo's, she had the roman numerals VII replaced on her left cheek and a pair of gears on her left shoulder and side of her neck. Sarah had a hard time at first, she still had eleven years of history to acclimate herself to, as well as living in a new city, coming to terms with what she was. Not to long afterward she started getting sick, bad headaches, and general acheyness throughout her body. She was about out of money at that point as well, having to set up a fake sin, having had to buy a truck (she could have gotten something cheaper but she was used to having money...er Sarah was used to having money). One night Sarah sat alone in the park watching the rain fall, it was nice and warm here unlike back home. She'd been sleeping in her truck since she'd bought it from one of her father's coworkers, it had been used, but corp exec used so that meant it had been driven a couple times and parked for something better. It was basically brand new, still it wasn't much of a bed she lamented as started thinking she should get some sleep. “I wish I had some Nilla Wafers.” She whispered to herself poutilly and stretched. There was no help for it, once she left the little covered bench she was going to get wet. With the way she was aching getting wet sounded less then enjoyable. It had taken her a while but she finally figured out what was going wrong with her, it was an immunodeficiency syndrome from the cloning process. The medicine wasn't cheap either, she wished she'd thought ahead and been a bit more frugal, but there was nothing to be done for it now. She just had to find a way to make some money. There wasn't anyone in the park that she could see. Maybe I'll just sleep on the bench, there's nobody around... Her musing was cut off by a woman's scream. Sarah was running before she even realized it, and pretty soon she saw what had caused the scream. A woman was being accosted by a deranged looking troll. With a messed up looking cyber arm. “Fix it! Fix it now!” He was screaming at her while holding her up with his good arm by the throat. Sarah looked around and picked up a lose brick. “Hey tiny!” She yelled at him, and when he turned to look with a dumb looking huh? Plastered across his face she slung the brick at him and hit in square in the face with it. Sarah was just about to give herself a mental high five when she noticed that it hadn't really hurt him. “I'll eat you!” The troll screamed at Sarah and tossed the woman away. Now that the troll was focused on her instead of that poor woman. “Gotta catch me first jumbo.” She teased with a hell of a lot more confidence then she felt and took off running. Good he's chasing me...Wait bad he's catching me! Drek! Sarah put her head down and ran harder, she was in good shape and pretty fast but the troll was jacked up on something and when she slowed down to try to scale the wall at the edge of the park he caught her. The fight was epic! Or so Sarah guesses since he knocked her out towards the beginning of it. Didn't stop him from slamming her around like a rag doll though. She woke up though with a scream when he bit down on her shoulder tearing a chunk out of her. Sarah looked on in horror as he chewed and swallowed, she felt like she was going to puke but started laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it. Then words just came out of her mouth. “You stupid trog, I've got immunodeficiency syndrome, and by getting my blood in your mouth you're going to get it to.” His eyes went wide and he dropped her, apparently there was some sanity in that mass of stupid monster. “W Wuz dat, like Vitas?” Sarah snickered and laughed. “Worse you fool, that was my plan all along, now you're going to die in horrible agony ahahhaha.” “There's only one cure.” Sarah heard the woman's voice pipe in, she'd followed them. “You need bleach and vinegar, and you need a lot and mix it all together first you need to breath in all the fumes until you feel really dizzy and sick, that's because of the germs are dying, then you need to drink it. Drink every drop of it you can, then that will kill all the germs in your stomach.” The troll nodded dumbly and ran off to find some bleach and vinegar. “Ch...” Sarah coughed roughly. “Chlorine gas?” She managed to ask. “God I hope it kills him.” The woman said as she came over to a broken and battered Sarah, who was now very much starting to feel it with the adrenaline wearing off. “Oh god look at you.” The woman said tears spilling down her cheeks and her hands going to her mouth. Sarah had managed to get out a cigarette and push herself up against the wall. “I I don't suppose...suppose you got a light beautiful?” Sarah said with a bit of a smile, the woman leaned in close to light Sarah's cig. “You've... got... pretty hair, w what's your name?” Sarah asked sounding rather delirious reaching up to touch it. “Trish.” The woman said softly. “Thas, thasa pretty name...” Sarah said as darkness came up to claim her. “I'll take care of you.” Sarah vaguely heard from somewhere far away before nothingness. Sarah woke up later in a bed in a makeshift clinic. It was a lot less terrifying then the first time she woke up she had to admit. She did a quick inventory of herself. There was an IV in her hand and left forearm was in a cast, her ribs were bound, and her cuts stitched. The bite wound on her shoulder was all but gone. She heard Trish's voice as she was peeking under the bandage at it. “I know a shaman who owed me a favor. I never did catch your name, Seven?” She asked taking an educated guess from the number on her cheek. “You saved my life, I think you can call me Sarah.” Sarah said with a soft smile...   Contacts: Name: Dr. Trish Southerland Occupation: Street Doc Race: Human Connection: 3 Loyalty: 4 Notes: Dr. Trish Southerland used to work for Doc Wagon. Dr. Southerland was a better doctor then she was corporate employee, she couldn't stand to see people suffer even if helping them for free meant less money in the Corps pocket. Dr. Southerland did her best to help people in the neighborhood who couldn't afford any medical care as much as she could, and to that end she'd occasionally “procure” medical supplies on occasion from Doc Wagon. This led to her termination, loss of her medical license, and six months in prison. It left her even more bitter then she'd already started becoming towards money whoring corps. Trish had gotten into medicine to help people, that's all she wanted to do. It didn't matter to her that Joe suit had more money then Bob street rat, nobody deserved to suffer. After getting out of prison Trish was quite depressed for a fairly long time. She'd done what was right and was punished for it, what the frag was wrong with this world? She lost her house while she was in prison and had to move in with her twin sister Tasha. Trish just sat around the house for a good long while after that. One night one of the people she'd been in prison with (who'd watched out for the new girl) got shot up on a run and came to Trish for help. Trish of course helped her, without asking any questions. About a week later an anonymous donation came in which was just barely enough to start up a small free clinic. It may have been anonymous but Trish was smart enough to know where it had come from, and what it was going to entail. She thought about it for a while and realized that she was fine with it. It had a certain poetic justice to it after all, like Robin Hood, sorta. Trish did find out however that the street doc gig sure wasn't as safe as it was working for Doc Wagon. There were a couple incidents but nothing she couldn't handle until she was coming home one night and got cornered by a troll with severe mental issues... She did however meet a very... interesting girl that night. Name: Detective Sean McCaffrey Occupation: Police Detective Race: Human Connection: 3 Loyalty: 3 Notes: “I remember a time when being a cop used to mean something. My granddad used to tell me stories of how things used to be before the corps took over. “Serve and Protect” was their motto. Today it's Serve the bottom line and protect corporate interests.” Sean took a pull from his glass of whiskey, the ice had all but melted by this point but he didn't care, it wasn't the taste he was looking for. “Six months I spent working on this human trafficking case. When some Ares brat got nabbed by the Yak's he decides to send in some runners to take care of things on the sly, even though we had a man undercover. Though I'm sure you remember that huh?” “What a fraging drekstorm that turned into.” Sean threw back the rest of the glass of whiskey and went to grab another one. “So I get a heads up about it from a buddy of mine, and frag once those runners hit them whoever's left is going to pack up and high tail it. Then there goes six months of work and a bunch of scum that should be rotting in prison.” He pours the glass and holds up the bottle for his guest. “So we don't know when this is going down and the exec he don't care, long as his little girl doesn't end up in a banraku parlor. Though doesn't matter how many other people's little girls end up there.” Sean comes back and sits down at the table. “So we gotta go in immediately. We load up and head down to the warehouse they're using, we kick in the doors, and god help me if it isn't the same fraging time the runners decide to make their move.” “Life is funny like that.” His guest said with a smile. Sean sighs. “Yeah funny, so bullets are flying, magic, explosions, like Eurowars redux. All hell breaking loose. Now here I am about to put a bullet into one of them Yaks, when my partner up and shoots me in the back twice.” “Oh yeah this is my favorite part coming up.” The guest said with a grin and Sean continues. “This chica with pink hair comes out from behind a stack of crates, blows my partner away, and proceeds to drag my happy ass out of the line of fire.” The guest cut in again. “She is pretty wiz. I like her.” “So in the end here's the score, my dirtbag partner dead, remind me to take a piss on his grave later. Me, bleeding bad and fixing to kick, and some filthy runner who stayed behind to save my sad hoop when her friends grabbed the payday and boogied on out of there.” “Hey! I'm not filthy! I told you that guy knocked over that crate of garbage on me.” Sean's guest said lighting up a smoke. “So where does that leave us officer?” Sean looked at the pink haired girl that saved his life. “Well I suppose that I can fix your parking tickets Seven.” She snorted and tossed her lighter at him hitting him in the chest. He used it to light himself a cig before tossing it back to her. “It leaves me owing you...” He said letting it trail off. Name: Louie Lor (Double L) Occupation: Street Vendor Race: Dwarf Connection: 1 Loyalty: 1 Notes: “This guy has the best [insert chicken byproduct food] in the entire sprawl.” -Sarah Seven “Chhiiiiiccckkkeennn Wiiizzzziiies.” The dwarf behind the food cart just grinned at his number one customer as she saddled up to the food cart sounding very much like a zombie. “Gotcha, one breakfast of champions coming right up.” Double L said with a grin idly wondering how a girl that ate as badly as Seven did never gained any weight. Not that he'd say anything, she was his best costumer after all, she ate at least one meal there almost every day. She chomped down on the greasy fried monstrosity then chewed for a while looking to be in bliss. “Double L, you're the man. Don't let anyone tell you different.” She said with a contented smile. “Thanks Seven, you're a connoisseur.” He returned with a grin. “Say can I get one more for the road...” She looked a little ashamed at the next thing she says. “Oh and uh one for Trish?” He raised an eyebrow as he got her two more to go. “Oh your brown haired friend right? The one that said she'd rather ingest formaldehyde then eat this slop?” Sarah looked busted and gave a sheepish smile. “That's the one.” Double L grinned. “So extra mayo then?”

[GeoAvanti]

Originally Posted by Zazaq

Quick question for anybody, I get that not all cyber weapons are really concealable, so where does the sub-machine gun stand? Is it fairy inconspicuous, like could you get away with a lie you just had a really nasty injury that got patched up?

Generally speaking, you will usually be using the conceal modifiers of the weapon itself, which you can find on page 420 of the Core book. SMGs will give any observers a +2 bonus to notice them on your person, Cyber or otherwise.

[Zazaq]

But I still get to make a concealment roll like normal, even if its a cyber weapon?

[Beychaliban]

I read through the rules and couldn‘t find a definite answer to that question. At least not in the core rules.
In my opinion it depends on a few things: is it build into an obvious cyberarm people might take a closer look then if it is a „normal“ arm, a long and wide sleeve helps to conceal it. Putting your hand into the pocket of your jacket without looking conspicuous would help, too - but that‘s probably what the roll is for
Habe to browse a few forums to get a definite answer regarding the correct rules.

[Beychaliban]

Seems as if there really is no rule for that so it's up to the GM. Yay.

[Zazaq]

Thanks Beychal, I couldn't find anything either so I figured it'd come down to the gm's preference.