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Dead PixyL (Elseworlds Character)

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Mathan

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« on: (04:23:16/08-16-18) »
This is an Elsworlds character, as noted. Basically something I did about a year or so ago to keep my writing sharp. It was taking the dead wife of my favorite Shadowrun main and rewriting things so that she was the one who lived that fateful night. Thinking of maybe using her in some capacity next time I run, so I figured I'd get a critique.

== Personal Data ==
Street Name: Dead PixyL
Name: Lizzy Shea
Movement: 8/16 (2m/hit)
Swim: 3 (1m/hit)
Karma: 0
Street Cred: 0
Notoriety: 0
Public Awareness: 0
Human Female Age 34
Height 5' 0" Weight 96
Composure: 7
Judge Intentions: 8
Lift/Carry: 6 (45 kg/30 kg)
Memory: 13
Nuyen: 3,132¥
== Attributes ==
BOD: 2 (3)
AGI: 3 (4)
REA: 4 (5)
STR: 1 (3)
CHA: 4
INT: 4
LOG: 6 ( 8)
WIL: 3
EDG: 4
== Derived Attributes ==
Essence: 2.38
Initiative: 9 +1d6
Rigger Initiative: 9 +1d6
Astral Initiative:
Matrix AR: 9 +1d6
Matrix Cold: 4 + DP +4d6
Matrix Hot: 4 + DP +5d6
Physical Damage Track: 13
Stun Damage Track: 10
== Limits ==
Skates (Obvious Full Leg): -1, Only when in use
Skates (Obvious Lower Leg): -1, Only when in use
Physical: 5
Skates (Obvious Full Leg): -1, Only when in use
Skates (Obvious Lower Leg): -1, Only when in use
Mental: 10
Social: 5
Astral: 10
== Active Skills ==
Armorer Base: 0 Pool: 9
Artisan (Game Design) Base: 0 Pool: 7 (9)
Computer Base: 0 Pool: 13
Con Base: 0 Pool: 8
Cybercombat Base: 0 Pool: 13
Disguise Base: 0 Pool: 5
Electronic Warfare Base: 0 Pool: 13
Etiquette Base: 0 Pool: 5
Hacking Base: 0 Pool: 13
Hardware Base: 0 Pool: 13
Leadership Base: 0 Pool: 5
Negotiation Base: 0 Pool: 5
Palming Base: 0 Pool: 5
Pistols Base: 0 Pool: 10
Sneaking Base: 0 Pool: 5
Software Base: 0 Pool: 13
== Knowledge Skills ==
== Contacts ==
Cuttie; Locker 414; Street Doc (2, 2)
Miss K; The twyst; Fixer (2, 2)
== Qualities ==
Biocompatability (Cyberware)
College Education.RF
Driven (Runners who killed her husband)
Emotional Attachment (Wedding Pendant)
High Pain Tolerance
Insomnia (Basic)
Inspired.RF (Artisan)
Pie Iesu Domine. Dona Eis Requiem.
Poor Self Control (Compulsive I, Public Broad Aspect) (Gear management)
Prototype Transhuman
Social Stress ('normal' society)
== Lifestyle ==
Karen Elizabeth Park (Low) 1 Month
+ DocWagon Contract, Platinum [+4,167¥]
== Cyberware/Bioware ==
Cerebral Booster Rating 2
Datajack
Dream Link
Fiberoptic Hair Rating 9
Mnemonic Enhancer Rating 2
Obvious Full Arm (AGI 3, STR 3, Physical 5) (Left)
+ ArmorRating 2
+ Cyberdeck
+ Custom Heavy Pistol
+ CasemodRating 3
Obvious Full Leg (AGI 3, STR 3, Physical 5) (Right)
+ ArmorRating 2
+ Skates
+ Cyber Holster
Obvious Lower Leg (AGI 3, STR 3, Physical 5) (Left)
+ ArmorRating 1
+ Skates
Sleep Regulator
Suprathyroid Gland (2050)
Visualizer
== Armor ==
Armor Vest 9
Clothing (One week cloths and piercings) 0
== Weapons ==
Savalette Guardian
+ Extended Clip
+ Long Barrel
+ Smartgun System, Internal
Pool: 10 Accuracy: 5 ( 8) DV: 8P AP: -1 RC: 3
Unarmed Attack
Pool: 3 Accuracy: 5 DV: 3S AP: - RC: 2
Yamaha Sakura Fubuki SX
+ Electronic Firing
Pool: 10 Accuracy: 6 DV: 6P AP: - RC: 3
== Commlink ==
Novatech Navigator (ATT: 6, SLZ: 5, DP: 4, FWL: 3)
+ Add Module (Multidimensional Coprocessor)
+ Personality (Jacob-Senpai)
+ Multidimensional Coprocessor
== Gear: Equipped ==
Altskin Armor
Ammo: APDS (Heavy Pistols) ×24
Ammo: Regular Ammo (Light Pistols) ×64
Biofeedback
Biofeedback Filter
Browse
Configurator
Edit
Encryption
Fake SIN (Kathy Jeong) Rating 4
Nuke-from-Orbit
Search
Shredder
Signal Scrub
Toolbox
Video Game (Old/Used) (Game Collection) ×100
Virtual Machine
Wrapper
== Description ==
While she was always rather skinny, due to her ‘enhancements’ as she would later learn, Dead PixyL is almost
disturbingly gaunt now. Her diet consists almost entirely of whatever high protein drinks the nearest stuffer shack
has to offer and enough unk to keep the calories where they should be. When mixed with a hefty dose of stress and
anxiety the young woman usually feels tends to leave PixyL looking a bit sick and quite tired. Her once bright green
eyes are now generally pale and generally pale skin is now often papery.
Thanks to her benefactor at Aries the worst of her scars from the attack are long gone and only a few shallow gashes
along her left ear and neck. These are usually covered by a simple leather choker and the shoulder length she keeps
her hair on that side, while the other side stays pixie short with a tuft of fiber-optics.
All of her components have a basic silvered finish, though the arm contains a heavily customized case that is perhaps
her greatest current joy. Long complex light streams go along the sides and can take on an opalescent hugh. The
plates themselves, especially the back of the arm where the screen for the inbuilt cyberdeck can be displayed, can
likewise take on an array of shades and visual effects. Most often these spots on her arm will appear to be made from
sheets of flawless, glowing moonstone. It’s a theme she finds rather pleasing and fitting considering how important
the arm is. With the gun that saved her, the cyberdeck that is her livelihood, and the personality construct all
located in it, the arm is kept immaculate and well cared for.
On runs PixyL will usually use off the rack Chameleon armor and a reproduction of a limited edition messenger bag
that came with the game ‘Persona Neo 7’. At home it’s generally more whatever shirt she could bother throwing on and
a pair of pajama pants.
One thing Lizzy has picked up is a small collection of piercings. Even if she can’t be bothered to update her hair or
buy a shirt not covered in machine grease and soycaf stains, each day is generally a new set of barbells and rings in
a new configuration.
It is worth noting that she is a bit short. She stands at only 5’1 and will often attempt to stare down taller
figures by popping the skates in her cyberlegs to get an inch or two.
== Background ==
Elizabeth Moon-Song Shea was probably the kind of person Indie-trids are made about. The kind that use faux booklooking
scene transitions to make it seem like some quirky book that was never really made or which involved overly
colorful characters who are all hyper intellectual and emotionally damaged in a way that comes off as charmingly
‘yuppy’.
Growing up a UCAS citizen, Lizzy was always on the move it seemed. Summers spent in her fathers home town of Saginaw,
part of the less popular Grand Rapids metroplex, while winters and most school years her family would remain in the
Minneapolis metro where her mother did contract biological research. Much of this work seemed to be for a small
Shiawasa subsidiary, though was low key enough that nobody ever really attempted to fully hire her on or extract the
family.
When she turned twelve Elizabeths father took a job with the city in Kalamazoo, a part of the same sprawl that had
become home to many driven young talents in various megas. Ares in particular. Because her mothers research was
ramping up on a new project and her parents were already growing distant, Elizabeth opted to make a decision that
would change her life forever and live with her father.
That year, on her first day in school, Lizzy met the man she would one day marry.
It started out innocuously enough. Elizabeth awkwardly attempting to deflect another students attempts at ‘niceness’
by rambling about how excited she was for Square to be launching CT Redux, a VR ground up recreation of an ancient
classic called ‘Chrono Trigger’.
While the other kids largely ignored or attempted to humor the awkward young woman, one slightly chubby boy at the
other end of the lunch room made it a point to not only voice his skepticism but in fact walk himself over in person
to begin a spirited and heated debate about why such a venture would fail and how badly Sim Adaptations of old titles
had gone in the past. The resulting screaming argument landed both kids in a months detention. There, with the aid of
a student teacher who had absolutely no desire to do her job, the two went from bitter enemies to fast friends as
they shared their various interests and hobbies with each other.
By the end of detention the two were inseparable. They spent all school year in each others company, and the summer
enjoying classes on game design and other subjects in the math and science center. By the start of the next school
year Lizzy and her now-boyfriend were already collaborating on their first game.
That game, and many produced afterwards, picked up massive acclaim over their high school careers. Nothing out of the
ordinary for the industry as a whole, but for two kids simply blowing off classes in order to work on new projects it
was almost too good to be true. Before they had even graduated Lizzy and Jacob were approached by a representative of
Ares who was looking to give them their own small art house studio and have them make games as full fledged
employees.
The offer was basically a no brainer. Within a year, Elizabeth was looking though the company catalogue for cyberware
that might help improve her skills, while her chrome-resistant boyfriend was busy attempting to pen his magnum opus
as a way to lock in the good graces of their new benefactors. Assured educations, A small team of devs under them, a
wonderful proposal on Maple Island at midnight. By their mid 20s the pair had seemingly everything they could ever
want. Unfortunately that was when things went bad.
It was after a seemingly mundane night of work and bad trids. Elizabeth woke to the sound of someone on the stairs of
their quaint mid-grade Lansing home. Being a good Michigan boy, John Moon had insisted his daughter keep a firearm
near her bedside in case of home invasion. Elizabeth had been reluctant to take the Savalette Guardian he had given
her as a housewarming gift, but was thankful in that moment as she reached for the item now gekko-gripped to the
underside of her nightstand.
The first figure to make it up the stairs took a short burst to the gut, then it all went to hell. One of the members
of the extraction team reached for a grenade on his vest. In hindsight it was likely intended to be a flash-bang.
Instead the small cylinder burst out with blinding, horrific pain that was barely dampened by the expensive mattress
the couple had just purchased.
When she woke up, Elizabeth was missing her left arm, right leg, much of her left leg… and the man she loved.
KE teams were quick on the scene, according to the rep who spoke with her when she awoke. What was more it seemed
that the extraction team had to contend with the neighbor taking pot shots with his deer rifle after seeing the
commotion. The combination of that and the unexpected explosion seemed to have driven them back and most escaped
before they could be taken down.
Unfortunately it seemed that the grenade that took her limbs had done far worse to her husband. Much of the next few
months was spent locked away in her hospital room. She went through plastic surgery treatments, treatments to check
and ensure all shrapnel was removed, not to mention adjustment to her new alpha grade limbs. Exactly the price point
one would expect from such a situation.
With little to do Lizzy spent her time the same way she did in middle and high school. People watching and poking at
the local security networks in small but innocuous ways, just to see if it would urk people. Though this combination
of activities the young woman was able ot learn far more than she imagined. First, that she was already healthy
enough to return home, yet the doctors were under orders to keep her longer. Second, that she now seemed to be a
subject of interest. Third, why.
Digging around revealed files that Ares had apparently extracted after her admittance. Proof that her mother had been
working on various illicit projects over the years to culture ‘superior’ traits into humans at the fetal stage. She’d
worked for a handfull of corps in the past, and it seemed that when test subjects for the modifications her mother
most wanted ran dry, she took advantage of her own pregnancy.
As if it couldn't get any worse, it seemed that Ares had discovered her ‘existing mods’ were unique during the libm
installation. Until then Lizzy had always depended on friends of her mother to do the surgery as it was cheaper and
her mother vouched for their skills. Now she understood why.
Elizabeth knew she couldn't remain and end up tested or dissected by a company that now saw her as so much research
material. The next night she managed to slip out by hacking the system to create an emergency status in another room
to distract the night staff, then slipping out into the night with nothing but a hospital gown and stolen trenchcoat.
She was burned. Limping along on new fake legs into the cold night air of a Michigan fall. Only the timely
intervention of a kind young woman on her way home from the bar saved Elizabeth, in more ways than she could imagine.
Katelyn Pryce, better known to her clients as Miss K. A low grade fixer and occasional bartender in the Detroit
sprawl who just happened to be on her way home from a busy shift at her latter job. She took Lizzy in, got her some
clean cloths and a meal, erased any tags, and set about holding the young woman in her care for the next few weeks.
At first it was just supposed to be a one night stay. After hearing the womans story and seeing the trauma starting
to sink in, K took it upon herself to at least help get Lizzy back on her feet.
The next few months were brutal. The Fixer did her best to provide food, a safe warm back room and even attempted to
find some cheap therapy to help stop the spiral. Each day her unexpected charge got more sullen and withdrawn. Much
as she wanted to ignore it, the hardened fixer simply couldn't bring herself to admit that she wasn’t going to make
any money off of playing caretaker to the poor woman. It couldn't last.
On one particular day, K brought home a bricked cyberdeck. It was intended as her cut of a job. She was actually
rather upset about the whole thing. Lizzy, on the other hand, actually seemed interested in something beyond
wallowing in her own pain for once. Within a week she had dusted off skills she had not really used since those math
and science center classes, slowly working the bricked deck and other junk parts K could scrounge into something
halfway workable. It wasn’t pretty and indeed wasn’t very powerful. But in that the two discovered something that
could help. K saw a way to help her new friend get some stability again. Lizzy saw a way to get revenge.
It took a full year of training and hard work before Elizabeth was finally ready to try her hand at running. If it
were up to her friend the traumatized woman would have just set up as someone to fix kit and make decks as a nice
healthy sideline for the two. Instead Elizabeth took up the name ‘Dead Pixyl’ and decided to worm her way into one of
Ks regular crews as a test. She wanted to strike back at Ares and at the people who had harmed her. In her short time
around K showed her that the best way to do both was going to be as a runner.
The first few runs were rough, but Dead Pixyl has since proven herself a formidable resource for any team which can
handle her. She is a skilled and focused decker with a talent for nonstandard thinking honed through years of
designing puzzles and simulations. While she can often be depressing and morbid even by the standards of most runners
Lizzy usually tends to keep herself collected and professional.
She has since added some more chrome and worked to upgrade her existing limbs. She’d even gone so far as to steal
back the gun that saved her life from an evidence locker and have it built into her new arm.
Dead Pixyl will run for just about anyone provided she feels she will come out the other end closer to her goal. She
has a good deal of distrust for Ares and tends to run for them only as part of a long game. Truthfully it’s only
evidence pointing to the extraction as a ‘disguised hit gone wrong’ that keeps her taking contract work from Ares
subsidiaries at all.
All she knows for sure is that anyone who was involved in stealing her life had best be ready to face the
consequences.
== Concept ==
Lizy hasn’t held up well since that night. One nasty byproduct of her mothers genetic meddling being that her memory
of the event is always painfully fresh. Once upon a time she probably could have been called anything from shy to
overly-energetic or even snarky when the mood took her.
Now the only word she would apply to herself is broken.
Pixyl is usually dour with only a smattering of gallows humor to brighten it. She has no problem seeing the worst in
everything and even less in telling her current crew just what kinds of issues they will likely face. That she is
correct so often sets people on edge. That she’s pleased about it is nearly inexcusable. Ultimately her withdrawn
nature and fatalism have burned more bridges than anything. Not that Lizzy cares.
It’s possible to warm to her a bit. A socially skilled individual may be able to draw her out. A spirited argument
over what’s wrong with games today can usually do the trick for a short while. Indeed for a few moments it can even
make her personable.
But then something reminds her of Jacob. Her lilting giggle-snort returns for a moment to how he always talked about
its cuteness. Or a grenade going off makes the pain in her arm explode and soon she’s struggling to grab the pistol
in her nightstand again with chrome fingers flailing frantically hoping to be just a few seconds faster this time.
Hoping to shoot a bit straighter.
For all of the in-built intellect and growing skill Lizzy isn’t really capable of putting up with a team for very
long, nor does she care to deal with people outside of runs. Deep down her own hopeless fatalism and an almost
masochistic longing for what she has lost make Dead PixyL a distinct liability in the shadows. Part of her would
probably love to curl up and stop, seeking shelter in the custom personality in her arm that she modeled after Jacob
and memories of the past. Yet she can’t. Elizabeth knows she has a job to do and so long as she can exact just a bit
more from those who hurt her PixyL is dead set on pushing through her own pain.
« Last Edit: (04:25:51/08-16-18) by Mathan »