ShadowHaven Reloaded - User contributions [en]

Tears

2023-10-04T04:06:15Z

Ethebr11: /* Goals */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Tears401.jpg|thumb|Tears, the Elf.]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Ethebr11]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = Elf
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = -1
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = 17/12/2053
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month= 12
|Day=17
|Year=2053
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1G-PgP5Xz7jAW4PI3WxxyEnclxxoqpyjk?usp=sharing]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - D Attributes - C Magic/Resonance - E Skills - B Resources - A
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=0
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past. Keep the light alive.

==Background==
''The rain was unending as it battered the pockmarked roads and monolithic plascrete apartment blocks. Here in Seattle on the western sea board of America, rain. Not unlike home. Wherever home was didn't matter anymore - a lie that perhaps he was beginning to believe. No, home held nothing but shattered glass and bitter, bitter memories now.''

Rembrandt "Hearts" Taylor had been born to ashamed, clipped ex-JIS first generation Elves in 2053, in a small village in the United Kingdom - for whatever passed as a village now. An exurb of Greater London that stood as stark contrast to what many would think of as a village - in place of community were shattered families and abuse. There were no prospects here, no employable skills to be gained, no hope of a better life, even one in service to a corporation. People would sooner rob Peter to pay Paul than do something, anything, that might help raise them from the malaise of a village that the world had left behind. And escape? Well, escape was absolutely possible - moving to London, begging on the streets, working some dead-end job to pay for a squat and counting every NuYen - but people thought themselves better than that. Simple men and women, living side by side in mutual self-loathing, those were the ties that bound them,

And Rembrandt was born. Born an Elf. The luckiest of metahumans - naturally graceful, elegant, beautiful. Too good for the village. Too arrogant by half to have the temerity to exist. He was shunned, by the adults first of all, for being different - for being one of those that had everything handed to them on a plate, one of those who's kind pulled the strings of the world. Then by the children, somewhat for their parents views, but because he was better than them at some things - quick on his feet in soccer, a half-passable singing voice. It was easy for them to justify their parents hatred.

That was childhood. An only son to two people who hated him for how the others looked at them. For how they reminded him of what they had endured, escaped, and now had to relive.

''It was raining like this - a downpour, as if the heavens had opened to hide his tears as he fled, or indeed, to wash away his guilt.''

On his 14th birthday, a boy he liked held his hand out in the woods.
On his 15th, that same boy called him a monster, and many worse things besides.
Turning 16, his father gave him a gun and kicked him out of the "family" home.
At 17, he'd been arrested for trying to return to that home, begging his parents forgiveness, eventually being allowed to return.
And when he turned 18, a crowd had gathered at the door step of his family home demanding that he be given over to them, a sacrificial lamb to make them feel better about their stasis. A dark motive force, impetus, at least, against the static decay they had endured. The real betrayal was when his father pushed him out the door toward them.

''Gunpowder ignition. The sound barely made him wince anymore, not after the things he'd done. Not after the things he'd heard. Gunshots were nothing compared to the scream that follows. There was no scream this time at least. A clean shot to a lonely soul. He would not be here when that mourning scream came, he was sure.''

The crowd had planned to hurt him, that much was sure. How? He didn't know, and he was as terrified as he had ever been - as he thought he could ever be - of the myriad ways that his debasement could take place.

''The Gun.''

They hadn't taken it from him. For all the things they had - his dignity, his safety, his love, they did not take his gun.

''The Trigger.''

Steeled nerves were the gift they had given him. A glib tongue to escape responsibility for some perceived wrongdoing one more time. An inescapable guilt and self-pity that lay where his heart did. It made the decision slightly easier. Only slightly.

Looking around, no one else had brought a weapon. Beating him to death with their bare hands was the punishment they had in mind. Senseless. Barbaric. Apropos. He could see his father, still in the doorway as they pushed him in to the middle of the street. Still there as the crowd formed a circle around him. Still there. And as Rembrandt's first love, that boy from the woods, stepped toward him with his fist held high, the horrible calculus solved itself. There was only one way this was going to end well for him.

''The Gun. The Trigger. Recoil. That scream that for as long as he lived, he would never escape, never forget, never unhear. The face of the boy he had loved, and that awful scream.They say that 'ware takes away a part of yourself - eats at your soul, wears away at your humanity, detaches you from those concerns. It just made the scream louder. Tears. Rain. Lead. No, Seattle was not terribly different from home at all.
''

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions - Tears knows what a bad impression can do for his relationship, and he intends to do things right this time

Biocompatibility, Agile Defender - Tears' body is somewhat more elastic than most - whether it be taking chrome or dodging lead.

===Negative===

Bad luck - The only explanation for it really, being an Elf is considered a blessing to most regular metahumans (their views on that blessing notwithstanding) but for Tears, it's been an albatross around his neck.

Family Curse, Prejudiced (Common, Biased, Elves.) - And that albatross has spread its wings. His upbringing was one of drug-fuelled beatings by his mother, and the scorn of his neighbours. It's hard for him to see past that hate even now he has "moved on."

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=1
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= WRN3
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1= Mundane. Eyes are a bit dimmer than the rest.
|Result2= Sinews, brain, eyes, lots of 'ware, and not particularly well made.
|Result3= Incredibly low essence, it's a wonder he can muster a smile.
|Result4= Bioware in his brain baby - and his musculature is entirely synthetic.
|Result5= No genetech.
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

Well-tailored black suit (but whatever colour he fancies at the time in AR, usually magenta, if he's at a club.)
Fine, well made synthleather boots. Again, black, irl.
Occasionally a pair of rounded tortoiseshell glasses. If he's partying, especially.

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-10-04T04:03:18Z

Ethebr11: /* Narrative Significant Qualities */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Tears401.jpg|thumb|Tears, the Elf.]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Ethebr11]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = Elf
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = -1
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = 17/12/2053
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month= 12
|Day=17
|Year=2053
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1G-PgP5Xz7jAW4PI3WxxyEnclxxoqpyjk?usp=sharing]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - D Attributes - C Magic/Resonance - E Skills - B Resources - A
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=0
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==
''The rain was unending as it battered the pockmarked roads and monolithic plascrete apartment blocks. Here in Seattle on the western sea board of America, rain. Not unlike home. Wherever home was didn't matter anymore - a lie that perhaps he was beginning to believe. No, home held nothing but shattered glass and bitter, bitter memories now.''

Rembrandt "Hearts" Taylor had been born to ashamed, clipped ex-JIS first generation Elves in 2053, in a small village in the United Kingdom - for whatever passed as a village now. An exurb of Greater London that stood as stark contrast to what many would think of as a village - in place of community were shattered families and abuse. There were no prospects here, no employable skills to be gained, no hope of a better life, even one in service to a corporation. People would sooner rob Peter to pay Paul than do something, anything, that might help raise them from the malaise of a village that the world had left behind. And escape? Well, escape was absolutely possible - moving to London, begging on the streets, working some dead-end job to pay for a squat and counting every NuYen - but people thought themselves better than that. Simple men and women, living side by side in mutual self-loathing, those were the ties that bound them,

And Rembrandt was born. Born an Elf. The luckiest of metahumans - naturally graceful, elegant, beautiful. Too good for the village. Too arrogant by half to have the temerity to exist. He was shunned, by the adults first of all, for being different - for being one of those that had everything handed to them on a plate, one of those who's kind pulled the strings of the world. Then by the children, somewhat for their parents views, but because he was better than them at some things - quick on his feet in soccer, a half-passable singing voice. It was easy for them to justify their parents hatred.

That was childhood. An only son to two people who hated him for how the others looked at them. For how they reminded him of what they had endured, escaped, and now had to relive.

''It was raining like this - a downpour, as if the heavens had opened to hide his tears as he fled, or indeed, to wash away his guilt.''

On his 14th birthday, a boy he liked held his hand out in the woods.
On his 15th, that same boy called him a monster, and many worse things besides.
Turning 16, his father gave him a gun and kicked him out of the "family" home.
At 17, he'd been arrested for trying to return to that home, begging his parents forgiveness, eventually being allowed to return.
And when he turned 18, a crowd had gathered at the door step of his family home demanding that he be given over to them, a sacrificial lamb to make them feel better about their stasis. A dark motive force, impetus, at least, against the static decay they had endured. The real betrayal was when his father pushed him out the door toward them.

''Gunpowder ignition. The sound barely made him wince anymore, not after the things he'd done. Not after the things he'd heard. Gunshots were nothing compared to the scream that follows. There was no scream this time at least. A clean shot to a lonely soul. He would not be here when that mourning scream came, he was sure.''

The crowd had planned to hurt him, that much was sure. How? He didn't know, and he was as terrified as he had ever been - as he thought he could ever be - of the myriad ways that his debasement could take place.

''The Gun.''

They hadn't taken it from him. For all the things they had - his dignity, his safety, his love, they did not take his gun.

''The Trigger.''

Steeled nerves were the gift they had given him. A glib tongue to escape responsibility for some perceived wrongdoing one more time. An inescapable guilt and self-pity that lay where his heart did. It made the decision slightly easier. Only slightly.

Looking around, no one else had brought a weapon. Beating him to death with their bare hands was the punishment they had in mind. Senseless. Barbaric. Apropos. He could see his father, still in the doorway as they pushed him in to the middle of the street. Still there as the crowd formed a circle around him. Still there. And as Rembrandt's first love, that boy from the woods, stepped toward him with his fist held high, the horrible calculus solved itself. There was only one way this was going to end well for him.

''The Gun. The Trigger. Recoil. That scream that for as long as he lived, he would never escape, never forget, never unhear. The face of the boy he had loved, and that awful scream.They say that 'ware takes away a part of yourself - eats at your soul, wears away at your humanity, detaches you from those concerns. It just made the scream louder. Tears. Rain. Lead. No, Seattle was not terribly different from home at all.
''

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions - Tears knows what a bad impression can do for his relationship, and he intends to do things right this time

Biocompatibility, Agile Defender - Tears' body is somewhat more elastic than most - whether it be taking chrome or dodging lead.

===Negative===

Bad luck - The only explanation for it really, being an Elf is considered a blessing to most regular metahumans (their views on that blessing notwithstanding) but for Tears, it's been an albatross around his neck.

Family Curse, Prejudiced (Common, Biased, Elves.) - And that albatross has spread its wings. His upbringing was one of drug-fuelled beatings by his mother, and the scorn of his neighbours. It's hard for him to see past that hate even now he has "moved on."

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=1
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= WRN3
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1= Mundane. Eyes are a bit dimmer than the rest.
|Result2= Sinews, brain, eyes, lots of 'ware, and not particularly well made.
|Result3= Incredibly low essence, it's a wonder he can muster a smile.
|Result4= Bioware in his brain baby - and his musculature is entirely synthetic.
|Result5= No genetech.
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

Well-tailored black suit (but whatever colour he fancies at the time in AR, usually magenta, if he's at a club.)
Fine, well made synthleather boots. Again, black, irl.
Occasionally a pair of rounded tortoiseshell glasses. If he's partying, especially.

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

The Run Where They Carve Pumpkins

2023-10-04T03:58:40Z

Ethebr11: /* Player After Action Reports (AARs) */

{{CategoryTemplate}} 

{{AARInfobox|



|Date=2084-10-03


|GM=Fangblade_


|Location=Seattle


|Ally=WRN3
|Ally2=El-Ahrairah
|Ally3=Liam Borrinea
|Ally4=Farraday's Clinic


|RunnerList={{AARCharacterList|Ka$hious|Tears|Signal|Runner4}}
|RunnerCasualties=


|Threat=Low


|Metaplot=And Love You Shall Find
|Metaplot2=
|Metaplot3=
|Metaplot4=
|Metaplot5=


|OppositionFaction=Major Corp
|OppositionUnits={{AARCharacterList|Character1|Character2}}
|OppositionCasualties=


|OppositionFaction2=
|OppositionUnits2=
|OppositionCasualties2=


|OppositionFaction3=
|OppositionUnits3=
|OppositionCasualties3=


|OppositionFaction4=
|OppositionUnits4=
|OppositionCasualties4=


|OppositionFaction5=
|OppositionUnits5=
|OppositionCasualties5=


|Image=
|ImageSize=
|ImageCaption=


|Notes=
|}}

[[Category:Runs]] 

==Summary==
Now that the clinic is growing, the pains of not having a fixer are quite obvious. The staff are finding more needs for doctors as infected are hurt constantly, so the doctors are busy being doctors. So, [[Liam Borrinea]] asks the team to take care of [[WRN3]] to try and get a new fixer, [[El-Ahrairah]] to join up with the clinic.

==Background==
See [[And Love You Shall Find]]

==The Meet==
The team met up with [[Liam Borrinea]] who asked the runners to find and contact the fixer [[El-Ahrairah]]. Howerver, they also needed someone to take care of [[WRN3]] for the day too.

==The Plan==
The team decided to pick up Ka$hious' son, Shawn, and take both them and WRN3 out for a morning of lazer tag, and then finding the fixer.

==The Run==
Taking the kids to Lazer Tag, they decided to all go on a team together. The game was won by the team, but after they found that WRN3 was being accosted by by the opposing team. Rescuing WRN3 from the assailants, the team picked them up and took care of WRN3, but not before Shawn was able to find some queer pride stickers for WRN3, in which the entire team partook.

Next, they decided to head to the location of El-Ahrairah. Upon getting there, it was revealed that El-Ahrairah was WRN3's adoptive mother. A short conversation and the two hugged, and El-Ahrairah invited the runner team in to carve pumpkins and have dinner.

==Aftermath==
WRN3 wished to stay with his mother, but it was revealed that she was infected, and the safety of WRN3 was the most important thing. WRN3 came with the runners, Ka$hious specifically, and headed back to the clinic to return them to Liam Borrinea.

==Rewards==
;5 Karma 5 RVP
;10 CDP 4 RVP

:Optional:
;WRN3 C 2 L 3 - 4 RVP for Ka$h

;WRN3 C 2 L 2- 3 RVP for Signal and Tears

;El-Ahrairah C 5 L 1

==Game Quotes==

{{Gamequote|Amusing quote from game.}}

==Player After Action Reports (AARs)==

==Tears==

"A real feel-good job. The meet was kinda tense - not the shoot-out kinda tense, but the "trying to coax a kid in to seeing his mum for the first time since they came out" tense. But all in all, WRN3 is a good kid - I overstepped my bounds a little, but I think as a team - Ka$h playing doting mother and Signal playing the cool uncle, and me being... I don't know what I was to the team, but I helped, I hope - we made a positive difference in his life. He's talented, deserves the best start he can get. His parents certainly care about him - here's hoping it all works out. Kid's got my number anyway, just in case."

Tears

2023-10-04T03:27:12Z

Ethebr11: /* Contacts */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Tears401.jpg|thumb|Tears, the Elf.]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Ethebr11]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = Elf
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = -1
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = 17/12/2053
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month= 12
|Day=17
|Year=2053
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1G-PgP5Xz7jAW4PI3WxxyEnclxxoqpyjk?usp=sharing]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - D Attributes - C Magic/Resonance - E Skills - B Resources - A
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=0
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==
''The rain was unending as it battered the pockmarked roads and monolithic plascrete apartment blocks. Here in Seattle on the western sea board of America, rain. Not unlike home. Wherever home was didn't matter anymore - a lie that perhaps he was beginning to believe. No, home held nothing but shattered glass and bitter, bitter memories now.''

Rembrandt "Hearts" Taylor had been born to ashamed, clipped ex-JIS first generation Elves in 2053, in a small village in the United Kingdom - for whatever passed as a village now. An exurb of Greater London that stood as stark contrast to what many would think of as a village - in place of community were shattered families and abuse. There were no prospects here, no employable skills to be gained, no hope of a better life, even one in service to a corporation. People would sooner rob Peter to pay Paul than do something, anything, that might help raise them from the malaise of a village that the world had left behind. And escape? Well, escape was absolutely possible - moving to London, begging on the streets, working some dead-end job to pay for a squat and counting every NuYen - but people thought themselves better than that. Simple men and women, living side by side in mutual self-loathing, those were the ties that bound them,

And Rembrandt was born. Born an Elf. The luckiest of metahumans - naturally graceful, elegant, beautiful. Too good for the village. Too arrogant by half to have the temerity to exist. He was shunned, by the adults first of all, for being different - for being one of those that had everything handed to them on a plate, one of those who's kind pulled the strings of the world. Then by the children, somewhat for their parents views, but because he was better than them at some things - quick on his feet in soccer, a half-passable singing voice. It was easy for them to justify their parents hatred.

That was childhood. An only son to two people who hated him for how the others looked at them. For how they reminded him of what they had endured, escaped, and now had to relive.

''It was raining like this - a downpour, as if the heavens had opened to hide his tears as he fled, or indeed, to wash away his guilt.''

On his 14th birthday, a boy he liked held his hand out in the woods.
On his 15th, that same boy called him a monster, and many worse things besides.
Turning 16, his father gave him a gun and kicked him out of the "family" home.
At 17, he'd been arrested for trying to return to that home, begging his parents forgiveness, eventually being allowed to return.
And when he turned 18, a crowd had gathered at the door step of his family home demanding that he be given over to them, a sacrificial lamb to make them feel better about their stasis. A dark motive force, impetus, at least, against the static decay they had endured. The real betrayal was when his father pushed him out the door toward them.

''Gunpowder ignition. The sound barely made him wince anymore, not after the things he'd done. Not after the things he'd heard. Gunshots were nothing compared to the scream that follows. There was no scream this time at least. A clean shot to a lonely soul. He would not be here when that mourning scream came, he was sure.''

The crowd had planned to hurt him, that much was sure. How? He didn't know, and he was as terrified as he had ever been - as he thought he could ever be - of the myriad ways that his debasement could take place.

''The Gun.''

They hadn't taken it from him. For all the things they had - his dignity, his safety, his love, they did not take his gun.

''The Trigger.''

Steeled nerves were the gift they had given him. A glib tongue to escape responsibility for some perceived wrongdoing one more time. An inescapable guilt and self-pity that lay where his heart did. It made the decision slightly easier. Only slightly.

Looking around, no one else had brought a weapon. Beating him to death with their bare hands was the punishment they had in mind. Senseless. Barbaric. Apropos. He could see his father, still in the doorway as they pushed him in to the middle of the street. Still there as the crowd formed a circle around him. Still there. And as Rembrandt's first love, that boy from the woods, stepped toward him with his fist held high, the horrible calculus solved itself. There was only one way this was going to end well for him.

''The Gun. The Trigger. Recoil. That scream that for as long as he lived, he would never escape, never forget, never unhear. The face of the boy he had loved, and that awful scream.They say that 'ware takes away a part of yourself - eats at your soul, wears away at your humanity, detaches you from those concerns. It just made the scream louder. Tears. Rain. Lead. No, Seattle was not terribly different from home at all.
''

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions - Tears knows what a bad impression can do for his relationship, and he intends to do things right this time

Biocompatibility, Agile Defender - Tears body is somewhat more elastic than most - whether it be taking chrome or dodging lead.

===Negative===

Bad luck - The only explanation for it really, being an Elf is considered a blessing to most regular metahumans (their views on that blessing notwithstanding) but for Tears, it's been an albatross around his neck.

Family Curse, Prejudiced (Common, Biased, Elves.) - And that albatross has spread its wings. His upbringing was one of drug-fuelled beatings by his mother, and the scorn of his neighbours. It's hard for him to see past that hate even now he has "moved on."

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=1
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= WRN3
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1= Mundane. Eyes are a bit dimmer than the rest.
|Result2= Sinews, brain, eyes, lots of 'ware, and not particularly well made.
|Result3= Incredibly low essence, it's a wonder he can muster a smile.
|Result4= Bioware in his brain baby - and his musculature is entirely synthetic.
|Result5= No genetech.
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

Well-tailored black suit (but whatever colour he fancies at the time in AR, usually magenta, if he's at a club.)
Fine, well made synthleather boots. Again, black, irl.
Occasionally a pair of rounded tortoiseshell glasses. If he's partying, especially.

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Change of Vocation

2023-09-30T14:19:33Z

Ethebr11: /* Tears */

{{AARInfobox|



|Date=2084-09-29


|GM=Asmodeus


|Location=Renton


|Ally=Von Neumann
|Ally2=Ace Powers
|Ally3=
|Ally4=


|RunnerList={{AARCharacterList|Triage|Tears|Denarii|RC-45}}
|RunnerCasualties=


|Threat=Medium


|Metaplot=
|Metaplot2=
|Metaplot3=
|Metaplot4=
|Metaplot5=


|OppositionFaction=Knight Errant
|OppositionUnits={{AARCharacterList|Security Guards|Jane Dior}}
|OppositionCasualties=Data breach, REEE!


|OppositionFaction2=
|OppositionUnits2=
|OppositionCasualties2=


|OppositionFaction3=
|OppositionUnits3=
|OppositionCasualties3=


|OppositionFaction4=
|OppositionUnits4=
|OppositionCasualties4=


|OppositionFaction5=
|OppositionUnits5=
|OppositionCasualties5=


|Image=
|ImageSize=
|ImageCaption=


|Notes=
|}}

[[Category:Runs]] 

==Summary==
Team does a standard text book data steal in an office building.

==The Meet==
Meet happens at a mid-tier soymeat restaurant in north Downtown. A peculiar, wared-up oddball attempts communicating in emojis through an AR feed, sliding over a datachip to the players. When they start asking for additional rewards, he leaves the restaurant and meets them in an alleyway around the corner, elaborating in a monotone voice that he can offer augmentations but that it'll come with serious strings attached. Nobody is willing to take the risk, so they'll just go with the basic money reward. The job is to gather data from a particular police officer's personal data terminals in an office building. Thankfully it's not the precinct itself, so security's more limited.

==The Plan==
When planning, the runners discover a couple of things. Security mages are getting rather short in supply, so the building's lacking a ward. It has biofiber linings in the walls and floors, however, which was a measure put in place early on in designs. Besides a security Aware, astral security is low. Guards are a thing, cameras just as much. Wuxing's been requisitioned to help K-E in some areas, which opens a potential in as a cover identity. Draco Foundation's visited this specific office building as well to negotiate for arrested criminal transfers when it comes to toxic, blood or shadow mages. The team have access to both Wuxing and DIMR contacts which gives them a fork in the road. Eventually, they decide to go with the Wuxing cover and the two faces go out negotiating quality burner SINs for everyone. They do so and with quite the alacrity no less! Ace Powers aids the team as well, having known Tears for a while, the catch is that in exchange for security intel about the building two years ago he wants them to upload some intel from the mainframe server to Horizon's servers, spying on K-E on the megacorp's behalf.

==The Run==
Entry happens without any particular issue. The security aware does notice Denarii's drake status and grows rather pale, having never seen a dracoform in the flesh before. The faces manage to convince her that calling higher-ups isn't necessary and the dismayed receptionist concedes the point. Once inside, the offline data terminals are trivial to access with an all-access keycard for the "security mage" checking the area for astral incursions. RC-45 grabs data about shady dealings and attempts for improvements that Jane Dior's strived for in the past. Evidence points towards her becoming more and more of a pariah in the force for attempting to work with the SINless population rather than against it. RC-45 has to get around a well secured gate in the basement to access the mainframe, which Triage summons a Concealment-knowing spirit for. Climbing down the elevator shaft and forcing the elevator shaft doors open, RC slips security cameras and leaves the doors ajar to break the Faraday cage. Once there, he starts uploading for several minutes, channeling as much data as he can while still feeling somewhat secure. Once done, he leaves and closes the doors, climbing back up and exiting through the main entrance with the rest of the "Wuxing security team."

==Aftermath==
THe J isn't visibly satisfied, but gives them datachips containing encryption keys and user account details for Wuxing burner bank accounts overseas. Each contains 22,000 Nuyen, although RC grows somewhat curious about the gibberish names. When he untangles the gibberish, comparing it to some Foundation Matrix code, he realizes what it says.

"You disgust me."

==Rewards==
* 20,000 Nuyen (10 RVP)
* 2,000 Nuyen in the credsticks (Negotiation Bonus)
* 2 CDP
* Ace Powers gives [[Tears]] 1 chip
* 1 Street Cred
* 3 Horizon Reputation

==Player After Action Reports (AARs)==

===[[Tears]]===

First time working with an actual team of professionals, rather than just a couple of gangers in suits. It was... ''peculiar'' to say the least. The J turned out to be some kind of <<REDACTED FOR SAFETY>>, which was frankly the scariest part of the whole thing. Once actually on site (and again, working with professionals, getting a cover ID was relatively easy) the greatest challenge was a jobsworth Aware called Hannah Mauville (A 20 nuYen name for a jumped-up receptionist) who took a particular disliking to Denarii for reasons I won't elaborate on further - I'd not want people tattling on me like a schoolgirl. Triage was good fun - I think he's magic, I don't think I really saw him do anything except for claim that the spirits had made RC a bit less visible. Oh, and note to self, don't mess with RC. From what I'd seen him do, I'd not want to be on his bad side. Spirits or not.

Either way, walked out with a pretty pay day (more than half a month's rent!) and without a kink bomb in my head. I'm also in Ace's good books for having the gang do a secondary data exfiltration. Again, don't mess with RC. Peace chummers.

Change of Vocation

2023-09-30T14:17:30Z

Ethebr11: /* Player After Action Reports (AARs) */

{{AARInfobox|



|Date=2084-09-29


|GM=Asmodeus


|Location=Renton


|Ally=Von Neumann
|Ally2=Ace Powers
|Ally3=
|Ally4=


|RunnerList={{AARCharacterList|Triage|Tears|Denarii|RC-45}}
|RunnerCasualties=


|Threat=Medium


|Metaplot=
|Metaplot2=
|Metaplot3=
|Metaplot4=
|Metaplot5=


|OppositionFaction=Knight Errant
|OppositionUnits={{AARCharacterList|Security Guards|Jane Dior}}
|OppositionCasualties=Data breach, REEE!


|OppositionFaction2=
|OppositionUnits2=
|OppositionCasualties2=


|OppositionFaction3=
|OppositionUnits3=
|OppositionCasualties3=


|OppositionFaction4=
|OppositionUnits4=
|OppositionCasualties4=


|OppositionFaction5=
|OppositionUnits5=
|OppositionCasualties5=


|Image=
|ImageSize=
|ImageCaption=


|Notes=
|}}

[[Category:Runs]] 

==Summary==
Team does a standard text book data steal in an office building.

==The Meet==
Meet happens at a mid-tier soymeat restaurant in north Downtown. A peculiar, wared-up oddball attempts communicating in emojis through an AR feed, sliding over a datachip to the players. When they start asking for additional rewards, he leaves the restaurant and meets them in an alleyway around the corner, elaborating in a monotone voice that he can offer augmentations but that it'll come with serious strings attached. Nobody is willing to take the risk, so they'll just go with the basic money reward. The job is to gather data from a particular police officer's personal data terminals in an office building. Thankfully it's not the precinct itself, so security's more limited.

==The Plan==
When planning, the runners discover a couple of things. Security mages are getting rather short in supply, so the building's lacking a ward. It has biofiber linings in the walls and floors, however, which was a measure put in place early on in designs. Besides a security Aware, astral security is low. Guards are a thing, cameras just as much. Wuxing's been requisitioned to help K-E in some areas, which opens a potential in as a cover identity. Draco Foundation's visited this specific office building as well to negotiate for arrested criminal transfers when it comes to toxic, blood or shadow mages. The team have access to both Wuxing and DIMR contacts which gives them a fork in the road. Eventually, they decide to go with the Wuxing cover and the two faces go out negotiating quality burner SINs for everyone. They do so and with quite the alacrity no less! Ace Powers aids the team as well, having known Tears for a while, the catch is that in exchange for security intel about the building two years ago he wants them to upload some intel from the mainframe server to Horizon's servers, spying on K-E on the megacorp's behalf.

==The Run==
Entry happens without any particular issue. The security aware does notice Denarii's drake status and grows rather pale, having never seen a dracoform in the flesh before. The faces manage to convince her that calling higher-ups isn't necessary and the dismayed receptionist concedes the point. Once inside, the offline data terminals are trivial to access with an all-access keycard for the "security mage" checking the area for astral incursions. RC-45 grabs data about shady dealings and attempts for improvements that Jane Dior's strived for in the past. Evidence points towards her becoming more and more of a pariah in the force for attempting to work with the SINless population rather than against it. RC-45 has to get around a well secured gate in the basement to access the mainframe, which Triage summons a Concealment-knowing spirit for. Climbing down the elevator shaft and forcing the elevator shaft doors open, RC slips security cameras and leaves the doors ajar to break the Faraday cage. Once there, he starts uploading for several minutes, channeling as much data as he can while still feeling somewhat secure. Once done, he leaves and closes the doors, climbing back up and exiting through the main entrance with the rest of the "Wuxing security team."

==Aftermath==
THe J isn't visibly satisfied, but gives them datachips containing encryption keys and user account details for Wuxing burner bank accounts overseas. Each contains 22,000 Nuyen, although RC grows somewhat curious about the gibberish names. When he untangles the gibberish, comparing it to some Foundation Matrix code, he realizes what it says.

"You disgust me."

==Rewards==
* 20,000 Nuyen (10 RVP)
* 2,000 Nuyen in the credsticks (Negotiation Bonus)
* 2 CDP
* Ace Powers gives [[Tears]] 1 chip
* 1 Street Cred
* 3 Horizon Reputation

==Player After Action Reports (AARs)==

===[[Tears]]===

First time working with an actual team of professionals, rather than just a couple of gangers in suits. It was... ''peculiar'' to say the least. The J turned out to be some kind of <<REDACTED FOR SAFETY>>, which was frankly the scariest part of the whole thing. Once actually on site (and again, working with professionals, getting a cover ID was relatively easy) the greatest challenge was a jobsworth Aware called Hannah Mauville (A 20 nuYen name for a jumped-up receptionist) who took a particular disliking to Denarii for reasons I won't elaborate on further - I'd not want people tattling on me like a schoolgirl. Triage was good fun - I think he's magic, I don't think I really saw him do anything except for claim that the spirits had made RC a bit less visible. Oh, and note to self, don't mess with RC. From what I'd seen him do, I'd not want to be on his bad side.

Either way, walked out with a pretty pay day (more than half a month's rent!) and without a kink bomb in my head. I'm also in Ace's good books for having the gang do a secondary data exfiltration. Again, don't mess with RC. Peace chummers.

Tears

2023-09-30T00:29:48Z

Ethebr11: /* Contacts */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Tears401.jpg|thumb|Tears, the Elf.]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Ethebr11]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = Elf
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = -1
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = 17/12/2053
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month= 12
|Day=17
|Year=2053
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1G-PgP5Xz7jAW4PI3WxxyEnclxxoqpyjk?usp=sharing]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - D Attributes - C Magic/Resonance - E Skills - B Resources - A
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=0
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==
''The rain was unending as it battered the pockmarked roads and monolithic plascrete apartment blocks. Here in Seattle on the western sea board of America, rain. Not unlike home. Wherever home was didn't matter anymore - a lie that perhaps he was beginning to believe. No, home held nothing but shattered glass and bitter, bitter memories now.''

Rembrandt "Hearts" Taylor had been born to ashamed, clipped ex-JIS first generation Elves in 2053, in a small village in the United Kingdom - for whatever passed as a village now. An exurb of Greater London that stood as stark contrast to what many would think of as a village - in place of community were shattered families and abuse. There were no prospects here, no employable skills to be gained, no hope of a better life, even one in service to a corporation. People would sooner rob Peter to pay Paul than do something, anything, that might help raise them from the malaise of a village that the world had left behind. And escape? Well, escape was absolutely possible - moving to London, begging on the streets, working some dead-end job to pay for a squat and counting every NuYen - but people thought themselves better than that. Simple men and women, living side by side in mutual self-loathing, those were the ties that bound them,

And Rembrandt was born. Born an Elf. The luckiest of metahumans - naturally graceful, elegant, beautiful. Too good for the village. Too arrogant by half to have the temerity to exist. He was shunned, by the adults first of all, for being different - for being one of those that had everything handed to them on a plate, one of those who's kind pulled the strings of the world. Then by the children, somewhat for their parents views, but because he was better than them at some things - quick on his feet in soccer, a half-passable singing voice. It was easy for them to justify their parents hatred.

That was childhood. An only son to two people who hated him for how the others looked at them. For how they reminded him of what they had endured, escaped, and now had to relive.

''It was raining like this - a downpour, as if the heavens had opened to hide his tears as he fled, or indeed, to wash away his guilt.''

On his 14th birthday, a boy he liked held his hand out in the woods.
On his 15th, that same boy called him a monster, and many worse things besides.
Turning 16, his father gave him a gun and kicked him out of the "family" home.
At 17, he'd been arrested for trying to return to that home, begging his parents forgiveness, eventually being allowed to return.
And when he turned 18, a crowd had gathered at the door step of his family home demanding that he be given over to them, a sacrificial lamb to make them feel better about their stasis. A dark motive force, impetus, at least, against the static decay they had endured. The real betrayal was when his father pushed him out the door toward them.

''Gunpowder ignition. The sound barely made him wince anymore, not after the things he'd done. Not after the things he'd heard. Gunshots were nothing compared to the scream that follows. There was no scream this time at least. A clean shot to a lonely soul. He would not be here when that mourning scream came, he was sure.''

The crowd had planned to hurt him, that much was sure. How? He didn't know, and he was as terrified as he had ever been - as he thought he could ever be - of the myriad ways that his debasement could take place.

''The Gun.''

They hadn't taken it from him. For all the things they had - his dignity, his safety, his love, they did not take his gun.

''The Trigger.''

Steeled nerves were the gift they had given him. A glib tongue to escape responsibility for some perceived wrongdoing one more time. An inescapable guilt and self-pity that lay where his heart did. It made the decision slightly easier. Only slightly.

Looking around, no one else had brought a weapon. Beating him to death with their bare hands was the punishment they had in mind. Senseless. Barbaric. Apropos. He could see his father, still in the doorway as they pushed him in to the middle of the street. Still there as the crowd formed a circle around him. Still there. And as Rembrandt's first love, that boy from the woods, stepped toward him with his fist held high, the horrible calculus solved itself. There was only one way this was going to end well for him.

''The Gun. The Trigger. Recoil. That scream that for as long as he lived, he would never escape, never forget, never unhear. The face of the boy he had loved, and that awful scream.They say that 'ware takes away a part of yourself - eats at your soul, wears away at your humanity, detaches you from those concerns. It just made the scream louder. Tears. Rain. Lead. No, Seattle was not terribly different from home at all.
''

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions - Tears knows what a bad impression can do for his relationship, and he intends to do things right this time

Biocompatibility, Agile Defender - Tears body is somewhat more elastic than most - whether it be taking chrome or dodging lead.

===Negative===

Bad luck - The only explanation for it really, being an Elf is considered a blessing to most regular metahumans (their views on that blessing notwithstanding) but for Tears, it's been an albatross around his neck.

Family Curse, Prejudiced (Common, Biased, Elves.) - And that albatross has spread its wings. His upbringing was one of drug-fuelled beatings by his mother, and the scorn of his neighbours. It's hard for him to see past that hate even now he has "moved on."

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=1
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1= Mundane. Eyes are a bit dimmer than the rest.
|Result2= Sinews, brain, eyes, lots of 'ware, and not particularly well made.
|Result3= Incredibly low essence, it's a wonder he can muster a smile.
|Result4= Bioware in his brain baby - and his musculature is entirely synthetic.
|Result5= No genetech.
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

Well-tailored black suit (but whatever colour he fancies at the time in AR, usually magenta, if he's at a club.)
Fine, well made synthleather boots. Again, black, irl.
Occasionally a pair of rounded tortoiseshell glasses. If he's partying, especially.

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-27T18:23:08Z

Ethebr11: /* Assensing Table */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Tears401.jpg|thumb|Tears, the Elf.]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Ethebr11]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = Elf
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = -1
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = 17/12/2053
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month= 12
|Day=17
|Year=2053
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1G-PgP5Xz7jAW4PI3WxxyEnclxxoqpyjk?usp=sharing]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - D Attributes - C Magic/Resonance - E Skills - B Resources - A
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=0
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==
''The rain was unending as it battered the pockmarked roads and monolithic plascrete apartment blocks. Here in Seattle on the western sea board of America, rain. Not unlike home. Wherever home was didn't matter anymore - a lie that perhaps he was beginning to believe. No, home held nothing but shattered glass and bitter, bitter memories now.''

Rembrandt "Hearts" Taylor had been born to ashamed, clipped ex-JIS first generation Elves in 2053, in a small village in the United Kingdom - for whatever passed as a village now. An exurb of Greater London that stood as stark contrast to what many would think of as a village - in place of community were shattered families and abuse. There were no prospects here, no employable skills to be gained, no hope of a better life, even one in service to a corporation. People would sooner rob Peter to pay Paul than do something, anything, that might help raise them from the malaise of a village that the world had left behind. And escape? Well, escape was absolutely possible - moving to London, begging on the streets, working some dead-end job to pay for a squat and counting every NuYen - but people thought themselves better than that. Simple men and women, living side by side in mutual self-loathing, those were the ties that bound them,

And Rembrandt was born. Born an Elf. The luckiest of metahumans - naturally graceful, elegant, beautiful. Too good for the village. Too arrogant by half to have the temerity to exist. He was shunned, by the adults first of all, for being different - for being one of those that had everything handed to them on a plate, one of those who's kind pulled the strings of the world. Then by the children, somewhat for their parents views, but because he was better than them at some things - quick on his feet in soccer, a half-passable singing voice. It was easy for them to justify their parents hatred.

That was childhood. An only son to two people who hated him for how the others looked at them. For how they reminded him of what they had endured, escaped, and now had to relive.

''It was raining like this - a downpour, as if the heavens had opened to hide his tears as he fled, or indeed, to wash away his guilt.''

On his 14th birthday, a boy he liked held his hand out in the woods.
On his 15th, that same boy called him a monster, and many worse things besides.
Turning 16, his father gave him a gun and kicked him out of the "family" home.
At 17, he'd been arrested for trying to return to that home, begging his parents forgiveness, eventually being allowed to return.
And when he turned 18, a crowd had gathered at the door step of his family home demanding that he be given over to them, a sacrificial lamb to make them feel better about their stasis. A dark motive force, impetus, at least, against the static decay they had endured. The real betrayal was when his father pushed him out the door toward them.

''Gunpowder ignition. The sound barely made him wince anymore, not after the things he'd done. Not after the things he'd heard. Gunshots were nothing compared to the scream that follows. There was no scream this time at least. A clean shot to a lonely soul. He would not be here when that mourning scream came, he was sure.''

The crowd had planned to hurt him, that much was sure. How? He didn't know, and he was as terrified as he had ever been - as he thought he could ever be - of the myriad ways that his debasement could take place.

''The Gun.''

They hadn't taken it from him. For all the things they had - his dignity, his safety, his love, they did not take his gun.

''The Trigger.''

Steeled nerves were the gift they had given him. A glib tongue to escape responsibility for some perceived wrongdoing one more time. An inescapable guilt and self-pity that lay where his heart did. It made the decision slightly easier. Only slightly.

Looking around, no one else had brought a weapon. Beating him to death with their bare hands was the punishment they had in mind. Senseless. Barbaric. Apropos. He could see his father, still in the doorway as they pushed him in to the middle of the street. Still there as the crowd formed a circle around him. Still there. And as Rembrandt's first love, that boy from the woods, stepped toward him with his fist held high, the horrible calculus solved itself. There was only one way this was going to end well for him.

''The Gun. The Trigger. Recoil. That scream that for as long as he lived, he would never escape, never forget, never unhear. The face of the boy he had loved, and that awful scream.They say that 'ware takes away a part of yourself - eats at your soul, wears away at your humanity, detaches you from those concerns. It just made the scream louder. Tears. Rain. Lead. No, Seattle was not terribly different from home at all.
''

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions - Tears knows what a bad impression can do for his relationship, and he intends to do things right this time

Biocompatibility, Agile Defender - Tears body is somewhat more elastic than most - whether it be taking chrome or dodging lead.

===Negative===

Bad luck - The only explanation for it really, being an Elf is considered a blessing to most regular metahumans (their views on that blessing notwithstanding) but for Tears, it's been an albatross around his neck.

Family Curse, Prejudiced (Common, Biased, Elves.) - And that albatross has spread its wings. His upbringing was one of drug-fuelled beatings by his mother, and the scorn of his neighbours. It's hard for him to see past that hate even now he has "moved on."

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1= Mundane. Eyes are a bit dimmer than the rest.
|Result2= Sinews, brain, eyes, lots of 'ware, and not particularly well made.
|Result3= Incredibly low essence, it's a wonder he can muster a smile.
|Result4= Bioware in his brain baby - and his musculature is entirely synthetic.
|Result5= No genetech.
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

Well-tailored black suit (but whatever colour he fancies at the time in AR, usually magenta, if he's at a club.)
Fine, well made synthleather boots. Again, black, irl.
Occasionally a pair of rounded tortoiseshell glasses. If he's partying, especially.

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-27T18:21:09Z

Ethebr11: /* Narrative Significant Qualities */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Tears401.jpg|thumb|Tears, the Elf.]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Ethebr11]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = Elf
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = -1
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = 17/12/2053
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month= 12
|Day=17
|Year=2053
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1G-PgP5Xz7jAW4PI3WxxyEnclxxoqpyjk?usp=sharing]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - D Attributes - C Magic/Resonance - E Skills - B Resources - A
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=0
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==
''The rain was unending as it battered the pockmarked roads and monolithic plascrete apartment blocks. Here in Seattle on the western sea board of America, rain. Not unlike home. Wherever home was didn't matter anymore - a lie that perhaps he was beginning to believe. No, home held nothing but shattered glass and bitter, bitter memories now.''

Rembrandt "Hearts" Taylor had been born to ashamed, clipped ex-JIS first generation Elves in 2053, in a small village in the United Kingdom - for whatever passed as a village now. An exurb of Greater London that stood as stark contrast to what many would think of as a village - in place of community were shattered families and abuse. There were no prospects here, no employable skills to be gained, no hope of a better life, even one in service to a corporation. People would sooner rob Peter to pay Paul than do something, anything, that might help raise them from the malaise of a village that the world had left behind. And escape? Well, escape was absolutely possible - moving to London, begging on the streets, working some dead-end job to pay for a squat and counting every NuYen - but people thought themselves better than that. Simple men and women, living side by side in mutual self-loathing, those were the ties that bound them,

And Rembrandt was born. Born an Elf. The luckiest of metahumans - naturally graceful, elegant, beautiful. Too good for the village. Too arrogant by half to have the temerity to exist. He was shunned, by the adults first of all, for being different - for being one of those that had everything handed to them on a plate, one of those who's kind pulled the strings of the world. Then by the children, somewhat for their parents views, but because he was better than them at some things - quick on his feet in soccer, a half-passable singing voice. It was easy for them to justify their parents hatred.

That was childhood. An only son to two people who hated him for how the others looked at them. For how they reminded him of what they had endured, escaped, and now had to relive.

''It was raining like this - a downpour, as if the heavens had opened to hide his tears as he fled, or indeed, to wash away his guilt.''

On his 14th birthday, a boy he liked held his hand out in the woods.
On his 15th, that same boy called him a monster, and many worse things besides.
Turning 16, his father gave him a gun and kicked him out of the "family" home.
At 17, he'd been arrested for trying to return to that home, begging his parents forgiveness, eventually being allowed to return.
And when he turned 18, a crowd had gathered at the door step of his family home demanding that he be given over to them, a sacrificial lamb to make them feel better about their stasis. A dark motive force, impetus, at least, against the static decay they had endured. The real betrayal was when his father pushed him out the door toward them.

''Gunpowder ignition. The sound barely made him wince anymore, not after the things he'd done. Not after the things he'd heard. Gunshots were nothing compared to the scream that follows. There was no scream this time at least. A clean shot to a lonely soul. He would not be here when that mourning scream came, he was sure.''

The crowd had planned to hurt him, that much was sure. How? He didn't know, and he was as terrified as he had ever been - as he thought he could ever be - of the myriad ways that his debasement could take place.

''The Gun.''

They hadn't taken it from him. For all the things they had - his dignity, his safety, his love, they did not take his gun.

''The Trigger.''

Steeled nerves were the gift they had given him. A glib tongue to escape responsibility for some perceived wrongdoing one more time. An inescapable guilt and self-pity that lay where his heart did. It made the decision slightly easier. Only slightly.

Looking around, no one else had brought a weapon. Beating him to death with their bare hands was the punishment they had in mind. Senseless. Barbaric. Apropos. He could see his father, still in the doorway as they pushed him in to the middle of the street. Still there as the crowd formed a circle around him. Still there. And as Rembrandt's first love, that boy from the woods, stepped toward him with his fist held high, the horrible calculus solved itself. There was only one way this was going to end well for him.

''The Gun. The Trigger. Recoil. That scream that for as long as he lived, he would never escape, never forget, never unhear. The face of the boy he had loved, and that awful scream.They say that 'ware takes away a part of yourself - eats at your soul, wears away at your humanity, detaches you from those concerns. It just made the scream louder. Tears. Rain. Lead. No, Seattle was not terribly different from home at all.
''

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions - Tears knows what a bad impression can do for his relationship, and he intends to do things right this time

Biocompatibility, Agile Defender - Tears body is somewhat more elastic than most - whether it be taking chrome or dodging lead.

===Negative===

Bad luck - The only explanation for it really, being an Elf is considered a blessing to most regular metahumans (their views on that blessing notwithstanding) but for Tears, it's been an albatross around his neck.

Family Curse, Prejudiced (Common, Biased, Elves.) - And that albatross has spread its wings. His upbringing was one of drug-fuelled beatings by his mother, and the scorn of his neighbours. It's hard for him to see past that hate even now he has "moved on."

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1= Mundane. Eyes are a bit dimmer than the rest.
|Result2= Cybereyes, and not particularly wiz ones at that.
|Result3= Has an allergy. Essence is LOW.
|Result4= Bioware EVERYWHERE, Skin, Bones, Muscles, Synapses, Sweat Glands.
|Result5= Synch gene treatment.
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

Well-tailored black suit (but whatever colour he fancies at the time in AR, usually magenta, if he's at a club.)
Fine, well made synthleather boots. Again, black, irl.
Occasionally a pair of rounded tortoiseshell glasses. If he's partying, especially.

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-27T18:20:52Z

Ethebr11: /* Negative */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Tears401.jpg|thumb|Tears, the Elf.]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Ethebr11]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = Elf
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = -1
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = 17/12/2053
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month= 12
|Day=17
|Year=2053
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1G-PgP5Xz7jAW4PI3WxxyEnclxxoqpyjk?usp=sharing]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - D Attributes - C Magic/Resonance - E Skills - B Resources - A
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=0
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==
''The rain was unending as it battered the pockmarked roads and monolithic plascrete apartment blocks. Here in Seattle on the western sea board of America, rain. Not unlike home. Wherever home was didn't matter anymore - a lie that perhaps he was beginning to believe. No, home held nothing but shattered glass and bitter, bitter memories now.''

Rembrandt "Hearts" Taylor had been born to ashamed, clipped ex-JIS first generation Elves in 2053, in a small village in the United Kingdom - for whatever passed as a village now. An exurb of Greater London that stood as stark contrast to what many would think of as a village - in place of community were shattered families and abuse. There were no prospects here, no employable skills to be gained, no hope of a better life, even one in service to a corporation. People would sooner rob Peter to pay Paul than do something, anything, that might help raise them from the malaise of a village that the world had left behind. And escape? Well, escape was absolutely possible - moving to London, begging on the streets, working some dead-end job to pay for a squat and counting every NuYen - but people thought themselves better than that. Simple men and women, living side by side in mutual self-loathing, those were the ties that bound them,

And Rembrandt was born. Born an Elf. The luckiest of metahumans - naturally graceful, elegant, beautiful. Too good for the village. Too arrogant by half to have the temerity to exist. He was shunned, by the adults first of all, for being different - for being one of those that had everything handed to them on a plate, one of those who's kind pulled the strings of the world. Then by the children, somewhat for their parents views, but because he was better than them at some things - quick on his feet in soccer, a half-passable singing voice. It was easy for them to justify their parents hatred.

That was childhood. An only son to two people who hated him for how the others looked at them. For how they reminded him of what they had endured, escaped, and now had to relive.

''It was raining like this - a downpour, as if the heavens had opened to hide his tears as he fled, or indeed, to wash away his guilt.''

On his 14th birthday, a boy he liked held his hand out in the woods.
On his 15th, that same boy called him a monster, and many worse things besides.
Turning 16, his father gave him a gun and kicked him out of the "family" home.
At 17, he'd been arrested for trying to return to that home, begging his parents forgiveness, eventually being allowed to return.
And when he turned 18, a crowd had gathered at the door step of his family home demanding that he be given over to them, a sacrificial lamb to make them feel better about their stasis. A dark motive force, impetus, at least, against the static decay they had endured. The real betrayal was when his father pushed him out the door toward them.

''Gunpowder ignition. The sound barely made him wince anymore, not after the things he'd done. Not after the things he'd heard. Gunshots were nothing compared to the scream that follows. There was no scream this time at least. A clean shot to a lonely soul. He would not be here when that mourning scream came, he was sure.''

The crowd had planned to hurt him, that much was sure. How? He didn't know, and he was as terrified as he had ever been - as he thought he could ever be - of the myriad ways that his debasement could take place.

''The Gun.''

They hadn't taken it from him. For all the things they had - his dignity, his safety, his love, they did not take his gun.

''The Trigger.''

Steeled nerves were the gift they had given him. A glib tongue to escape responsibility for some perceived wrongdoing one more time. An inescapable guilt and self-pity that lay where his heart did. It made the decision slightly easier. Only slightly.

Looking around, no one else had brought a weapon. Beating him to death with their bare hands was the punishment they had in mind. Senseless. Barbaric. Apropos. He could see his father, still in the doorway as they pushed him in to the middle of the street. Still there as the crowd formed a circle around him. Still there. And as Rembrandt's first love, that boy from the woods, stepped toward him with his fist held high, the horrible calculus solved itself. There was only one way this was going to end well for him.

''The Gun. The Trigger. Recoil. That scream that for as long as he lived, he would never escape, never forget, never unhear. The face of the boy he had loved, and that awful scream.They say that 'ware takes away a part of yourself - eats at your soul, wears away at your humanity, detaches you from those concerns. It just made the scream louder. Tears. Rain. Lead. No, Seattle was not terribly different from home at all.
''

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions - Tears knows what a bad impression can do for his relationship, and he intends to do things right this time
Biocompatibility, Agile Defender - Tears body is somewhat more elastic than most - whether it be taking chrome or dodging lead.

===Negative===

Bad luck - The only explanation for it really, being an Elf is considered a blessing to most regular metahumans (their views on that blessing notwithstanding) but for Tears, it's been an albatross around his neck.
Family Curse, Prejudiced (Common, Biased, Elves.) - And that albatross has spread its wings. His upbringing was one of drug-fuelled beatings by his mother, and the scorn of his neighbours. It's hard for him to see past that hate even now he has "moved on."

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1= Mundane. Eyes are a bit dimmer than the rest.
|Result2= Cybereyes, and not particularly wiz ones at that.
|Result3= Has an allergy. Essence is LOW.
|Result4= Bioware EVERYWHERE, Skin, Bones, Muscles, Synapses, Sweat Glands.
|Result5= Synch gene treatment.
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

Well-tailored black suit (but whatever colour he fancies at the time in AR, usually magenta, if he's at a club.)
Fine, well made synthleather boots. Again, black, irl.
Occasionally a pair of rounded tortoiseshell glasses. If he's partying, especially.

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-27T18:17:56Z

Ethebr11: /* Positive */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Tears401.jpg|thumb|Tears, the Elf.]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Ethebr11]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = Elf
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = -1
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = 17/12/2053
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month= 12
|Day=17
|Year=2053
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1G-PgP5Xz7jAW4PI3WxxyEnclxxoqpyjk?usp=sharing]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - D Attributes - C Magic/Resonance - E Skills - B Resources - A
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=0
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==
''The rain was unending as it battered the pockmarked roads and monolithic plascrete apartment blocks. Here in Seattle on the western sea board of America, rain. Not unlike home. Wherever home was didn't matter anymore - a lie that perhaps he was beginning to believe. No, home held nothing but shattered glass and bitter, bitter memories now.''

Rembrandt "Hearts" Taylor had been born to ashamed, clipped ex-JIS first generation Elves in 2053, in a small village in the United Kingdom - for whatever passed as a village now. An exurb of Greater London that stood as stark contrast to what many would think of as a village - in place of community were shattered families and abuse. There were no prospects here, no employable skills to be gained, no hope of a better life, even one in service to a corporation. People would sooner rob Peter to pay Paul than do something, anything, that might help raise them from the malaise of a village that the world had left behind. And escape? Well, escape was absolutely possible - moving to London, begging on the streets, working some dead-end job to pay for a squat and counting every NuYen - but people thought themselves better than that. Simple men and women, living side by side in mutual self-loathing, those were the ties that bound them,

And Rembrandt was born. Born an Elf. The luckiest of metahumans - naturally graceful, elegant, beautiful. Too good for the village. Too arrogant by half to have the temerity to exist. He was shunned, by the adults first of all, for being different - for being one of those that had everything handed to them on a plate, one of those who's kind pulled the strings of the world. Then by the children, somewhat for their parents views, but because he was better than them at some things - quick on his feet in soccer, a half-passable singing voice. It was easy for them to justify their parents hatred.

That was childhood. An only son to two people who hated him for how the others looked at them. For how they reminded him of what they had endured, escaped, and now had to relive.

''It was raining like this - a downpour, as if the heavens had opened to hide his tears as he fled, or indeed, to wash away his guilt.''

On his 14th birthday, a boy he liked held his hand out in the woods.
On his 15th, that same boy called him a monster, and many worse things besides.
Turning 16, his father gave him a gun and kicked him out of the "family" home.
At 17, he'd been arrested for trying to return to that home, begging his parents forgiveness, eventually being allowed to return.
And when he turned 18, a crowd had gathered at the door step of his family home demanding that he be given over to them, a sacrificial lamb to make them feel better about their stasis. A dark motive force, impetus, at least, against the static decay they had endured. The real betrayal was when his father pushed him out the door toward them.

''Gunpowder ignition. The sound barely made him wince anymore, not after the things he'd done. Not after the things he'd heard. Gunshots were nothing compared to the scream that follows. There was no scream this time at least. A clean shot to a lonely soul. He would not be here when that mourning scream came, he was sure.''

The crowd had planned to hurt him, that much was sure. How? He didn't know, and he was as terrified as he had ever been - as he thought he could ever be - of the myriad ways that his debasement could take place.

''The Gun.''

They hadn't taken it from him. For all the things they had - his dignity, his safety, his love, they did not take his gun.

''The Trigger.''

Steeled nerves were the gift they had given him. A glib tongue to escape responsibility for some perceived wrongdoing one more time. An inescapable guilt and self-pity that lay where his heart did. It made the decision slightly easier. Only slightly.

Looking around, no one else had brought a weapon. Beating him to death with their bare hands was the punishment they had in mind. Senseless. Barbaric. Apropos. He could see his father, still in the doorway as they pushed him in to the middle of the street. Still there as the crowd formed a circle around him. Still there. And as Rembrandt's first love, that boy from the woods, stepped toward him with his fist held high, the horrible calculus solved itself. There was only one way this was going to end well for him.

''The Gun. The Trigger. Recoil. That scream that for as long as he lived, he would never escape, never forget, never unhear. The face of the boy he had loved, and that awful scream.They say that 'ware takes away a part of yourself - eats at your soul, wears away at your humanity, detaches you from those concerns. It just made the scream louder. Tears. Rain. Lead. No, Seattle was not terribly different from home at all.
''

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions - Tears knows what a bad impression can do for his relationship, and he intends to do things right this time
Biocompatibility, Agile Defender - Tears body is somewhat more elastic than most - whether it be taking chrome or dodging lead.

===Negative===

Creature of Comfort (Middle), Allergy (Seafood, Moderate) - Growing up dirt poor in a coastal village meant krill was part of most meals, even if it didn't last long in the digestive tract. Now that Tears has experienced a modicum of The Good Life, his diet (and stable sleeping arrangement) are something he simply refuses to give up without exceptional reason.

Bad Credit :- When you're desperate to get ahead fresh off the boat, proverbial or otherwise, you tend to write a lot of checks your account, or flesh, can't cash. His local stuffer shack employees even eye him with suspicion after one too many declined transfers while wearing a high end suit. While he's a tad more fiscally responsible these days, people usually prefer their money up front.

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1= Mundane. Eyes are a bit dimmer than the rest.
|Result2= Cybereyes, and not particularly wiz ones at that.
|Result3= Has an allergy. Essence is LOW.
|Result4= Bioware EVERYWHERE, Skin, Bones, Muscles, Synapses, Sweat Glands.
|Result5= Synch gene treatment.
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

Well-tailored black suit (but whatever colour he fancies at the time in AR, usually magenta, if he's at a club.)
Fine, well made synthleather boots. Again, black, irl.
Occasionally a pair of rounded tortoiseshell glasses. If he's partying, especially.

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-27T00:23:05Z

Ethebr11: /* Background */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Tears401.jpg|thumb|Tears, the Elf.]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Ethebr11]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = Elf
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = -1
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = 17/12/2053
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month= 12
|Day=17
|Year=2053
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1G-PgP5Xz7jAW4PI3WxxyEnclxxoqpyjk?usp=sharing]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - D Attributes - C Magic/Resonance - E Skills - B Resources - A
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=0
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==
''The rain was unending as it battered the pockmarked roads and monolithic plascrete apartment blocks. Here in Seattle on the western sea board of America, rain. Not unlike home. Wherever home was didn't matter anymore - a lie that perhaps he was beginning to believe. No, home held nothing but shattered glass and bitter, bitter memories now.''

Rembrandt "Hearts" Taylor had been born to ashamed, clipped ex-JIS first generation Elves in 2053, in a small village in the United Kingdom - for whatever passed as a village now. An exurb of Greater London that stood as stark contrast to what many would think of as a village - in place of community were shattered families and abuse. There were no prospects here, no employable skills to be gained, no hope of a better life, even one in service to a corporation. People would sooner rob Peter to pay Paul than do something, anything, that might help raise them from the malaise of a village that the world had left behind. And escape? Well, escape was absolutely possible - moving to London, begging on the streets, working some dead-end job to pay for a squat and counting every NuYen - but people thought themselves better than that. Simple men and women, living side by side in mutual self-loathing, those were the ties that bound them,

And Rembrandt was born. Born an Elf. The luckiest of metahumans - naturally graceful, elegant, beautiful. Too good for the village. Too arrogant by half to have the temerity to exist. He was shunned, by the adults first of all, for being different - for being one of those that had everything handed to them on a plate, one of those who's kind pulled the strings of the world. Then by the children, somewhat for their parents views, but because he was better than them at some things - quick on his feet in soccer, a half-passable singing voice. It was easy for them to justify their parents hatred.

That was childhood. An only son to two people who hated him for how the others looked at them. For how they reminded him of what they had endured, escaped, and now had to relive.

''It was raining like this - a downpour, as if the heavens had opened to hide his tears as he fled, or indeed, to wash away his guilt.''

On his 14th birthday, a boy he liked held his hand out in the woods.
On his 15th, that same boy called him a monster, and many worse things besides.
Turning 16, his father gave him a gun and kicked him out of the "family" home.
At 17, he'd been arrested for trying to return to that home, begging his parents forgiveness, eventually being allowed to return.
And when he turned 18, a crowd had gathered at the door step of his family home demanding that he be given over to them, a sacrificial lamb to make them feel better about their stasis. A dark motive force, impetus, at least, against the static decay they had endured. The real betrayal was when his father pushed him out the door toward them.

''Gunpowder ignition. The sound barely made him wince anymore, not after the things he'd done. Not after the things he'd heard. Gunshots were nothing compared to the scream that follows. There was no scream this time at least. A clean shot to a lonely soul. He would not be here when that mourning scream came, he was sure.''

The crowd had planned to hurt him, that much was sure. How? He didn't know, and he was as terrified as he had ever been - as he thought he could ever be - of the myriad ways that his debasement could take place.

''The Gun.''

They hadn't taken it from him. For all the things they had - his dignity, his safety, his love, they did not take his gun.

''The Trigger.''

Steeled nerves were the gift they had given him. A glib tongue to escape responsibility for some perceived wrongdoing one more time. An inescapable guilt and self-pity that lay where his heart did. It made the decision slightly easier. Only slightly.

Looking around, no one else had brought a weapon. Beating him to death with their bare hands was the punishment they had in mind. Senseless. Barbaric. Apropos. He could see his father, still in the doorway as they pushed him in to the middle of the street. Still there as the crowd formed a circle around him. Still there. And as Rembrandt's first love, that boy from the woods, stepped toward him with his fist held high, the horrible calculus solved itself. There was only one way this was going to end well for him.

''The Gun. The Trigger. Recoil. That scream that for as long as he lived, he would never escape, never forget, never unhear. The face of the boy he had loved, and that awful scream.They say that 'ware takes away a part of yourself - eats at your soul, wears away at your humanity, detaches you from those concerns. It just made the scream louder. Tears. Rain. Lead. No, Seattle was not terribly different from home at all.
''

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions, Too Pretty To Hit - while being undeniable different was an albatross (whatever those are) around his neck, people in Seattle are at least nicer to him for being pretty.

Biocompatability, Drug Tolerant - for some reason, maybe psychosomatic, his body is able to put up with a lot more invasive drug being thrown at it.

===Negative===

Creature of Comfort (Middle), Allergy (Seafood, Moderate) - Growing up dirt poor in a coastal village meant krill was part of most meals, even if it didn't last long in the digestive tract. Now that Tears has experienced a modicum of The Good Life, his diet (and stable sleeping arrangement) are something he simply refuses to give up without exceptional reason.

Bad Credit :- When you're desperate to get ahead fresh off the boat, proverbial or otherwise, you tend to write a lot of checks your account, or flesh, can't cash. His local stuffer shack employees even eye him with suspicion after one too many declined transfers while wearing a high end suit. While he's a tad more fiscally responsible these days, people usually prefer their money up front.

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1= Mundane. Eyes are a bit dimmer than the rest.
|Result2= Cybereyes, and not particularly wiz ones at that.
|Result3= Has an allergy. Essence is LOW.
|Result4= Bioware EVERYWHERE, Skin, Bones, Muscles, Synapses, Sweat Glands.
|Result5= Synch gene treatment.
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

Well-tailored black suit (but whatever colour he fancies at the time in AR, usually magenta, if he's at a club.)
Fine, well made synthleather boots. Again, black, irl.
Occasionally a pair of rounded tortoiseshell glasses. If he's partying, especially.

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-27T00:22:40Z

Ethebr11: /* Background */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Tears401.jpg|thumb|Tears, the Elf.]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Ethebr11]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = Elf
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = -1
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = 17/12/2053
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month= 12
|Day=17
|Year=2053
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1G-PgP5Xz7jAW4PI3WxxyEnclxxoqpyjk?usp=sharing]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - D Attributes - C Magic/Resonance - E Skills - B Resources - A
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=0
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==
''The rain was unending as it battered the pockmarked roads and monolthic plascrete apartment blocks. Here in Seattle on the western sea board of America, rain. Not unlike home. Wherever home was didn't matter anymore - a lie that perhaps he was beginning to believe. No, home held nothing but shattered glass and bitter, bitter memories now.''

Rembrandt "Hearts" Taylor had been born to ashamed, clipped ex-JIS first generation Elves in 2053, in a small village in the United Kingdom - for whatever passed as a village now. An exurb of Greater London that stood as stark contrast to what many would think of as a village - in place of community were shattered families and abuse. There were no prospects here, no employable skills to be gained, no hope of a better life, even one in service to a corporation. People would sooner rob Peter to pay Paul than do something, anything, that might help raise them from the malaise of a village that the world had left behind. And escape? Well, escape was absolutely possible - moving to London, begging on the streets, working some dead-end job to pay for a squat and counting every NuYen - but people thought themselves better than that. Simple men and women, living side by side in mutual self-loathing, those were the ties that bound them,

And Rembrandt was born. Born an Elf. The luckiest of metahumans - naturally graceful, elegant, beautiful. Too good for the village. Too arrogant by half to have the temerity to exist. He was shunned, by the adults first of all, for being different - for being one of those that had everything handed to them on a plate, one of those who's kind pulled the strings of the world. Then by the children, somewhat for their parents views, but because he was better than them at some things - quick on his feet in soccer, a half-passable singing voice. It was easy for them to justify their parents hatred.

That was childhood. An only son to two people who hated him for how the others looked at them. For how they reminded him of what they had endured, escaped, and now had to relive.

''It was raining like this - a downpour, as if the heavens had opened to hide his tears as he fled, or indeed, to wash away his guilt.''

On his 14th birthday, a boy he liked held his hand out in the woods.
On his 15th, that same boy called him a monster, and many worse things besides.
Turning 16, his father gave him a gun and kicked him out of the "family" home.
At 17, he'd been arrested for trying to return to that home, begging his parents forgiveness, eventually being allowed to return.
And when he turned 18, a crowd had gathered at the door step of his family home demanding that he be given over to them, a sacrificial lamb to make them feel better about their stasis. A dark motive force, impetus, at least, against the static decay they had endured. The real betrayal was when his father pushed him out the door toward them.

''Gunpowder ignition. The sound barely made him wince anymore, not after the things he'd done. Not after the things he'd heard. Gunshots were nothing compared to the scream that follows. There was no scream this time at least. A clean shot to a lonely soul. He would not be here when that mourning scream came, he was sure.''

The crowd had planned to hurt him, that much was sure. How? He didn't know, and he was as terrified as he had ever been - as he thought he could ever be - of the myriad ways that his debasement could take place.

''The Gun.''

They hadn't taken it from him. For all the things they had - his dignity, his safety, his love, they did not take his gun.

''The Trigger.''

Steeled nerves were the gift they had given him. A glib tongue to escape responsibility for some perceived wrongdoing one more time. An inescapable guilt and self-pity that lay where his heart did. It made the decision slightly easier. Only slightly.

Looking around, no one else had brought a weapon. Beating him to death with their bare hands was the punishment they had in mind. Senseless. Barbaric. Apropos. He could see his father, still in the doorway as they pushed him in to the middle of the street. Still there as the crowd formed a circle around him. Still there. And as Rembrandt's first love, that boy from the woods, stepped toward him with his fist held high, the horrible calculus solved itself. There was only one way this was going to end well for him.

''The Gun. The Trigger. Recoil. That scream that for as long as he lived, he would never escape, never forget, never unhear. The face of the boy he had loved, and that awful scream.They say that 'ware takes away a part of yourself - eats at your soul, wears away at your humanity, detaches you from those concerns. It just made the scream louder. Tears. Rain. Lead. No, Seattle was not terribly different from home at all.
''

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions, Too Pretty To Hit - while being undeniable different was an albatross (whatever those are) around his neck, people in Seattle are at least nicer to him for being pretty.

Biocompatability, Drug Tolerant - for some reason, maybe psychosomatic, his body is able to put up with a lot more invasive drug being thrown at it.

===Negative===

Creature of Comfort (Middle), Allergy (Seafood, Moderate) - Growing up dirt poor in a coastal village meant krill was part of most meals, even if it didn't last long in the digestive tract. Now that Tears has experienced a modicum of The Good Life, his diet (and stable sleeping arrangement) are something he simply refuses to give up without exceptional reason.

Bad Credit :- When you're desperate to get ahead fresh off the boat, proverbial or otherwise, you tend to write a lot of checks your account, or flesh, can't cash. His local stuffer shack employees even eye him with suspicion after one too many declined transfers while wearing a high end suit. While he's a tad more fiscally responsible these days, people usually prefer their money up front.

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1= Mundane. Eyes are a bit dimmer than the rest.
|Result2= Cybereyes, and not particularly wiz ones at that.
|Result3= Has an allergy. Essence is LOW.
|Result4= Bioware EVERYWHERE, Skin, Bones, Muscles, Synapses, Sweat Glands.
|Result5= Synch gene treatment.
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

Well-tailored black suit (but whatever colour he fancies at the time in AR, usually magenta, if he's at a club.)
Fine, well made synthleather boots. Again, black, irl.
Occasionally a pair of rounded tortoiseshell glasses. If he's partying, especially.

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-26T22:58:23Z

Ethebr11:

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Tears401.jpg|thumb|Tears, the Elf.]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Ethebr11]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = Elf
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = -1
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = 17/12/2053
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month= 12
|Day=17
|Year=2053
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1G-PgP5Xz7jAW4PI3WxxyEnclxxoqpyjk?usp=sharing]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - D Attributes - C Magic/Resonance - E Skills - B Resources - A
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=0
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==
''The rain was unending as it battered the pockmarked roads and monolthic plascrete apartment blocks. Here in Seattle on the western sea board of America, rain. Not unlike home. Wherever home was didn't matter anymore - a lie that perhaps he was beginning to believe. No, home held nothing but shattered glass and bitter, bitter memories now.''

Rembrandt "Hearts" Taylor had been born in 2053, in a small village in the United Kingdom - for whatever passed as a village now. An exurb of Greater London that stood as stark contrast to what many would think of as a village - in place of community were shattered families and abuse. There were no prospects here, no employable skills to be gained, no hope of a better life, even one in service to a corporation. People would sooner rob Peter to pay Paul than do something, anything, that might help raise them from the malaise of a village that the world had left behind. And escape? Well, escape was absolutely possible - moving to London, begging on the streets, working some dead-end job to pay for a squat and counting every NuYen - but people thought themselves better than that. Simple men and women, living side by side in mutual self-loathing, those were the ties that bound them,

And Rembrandt was born. Born an Elf. The luckiest of metahumans - naturally graceful, elegant, beautiful. Too good for the village. Too arrogant by half to have the temerity to exist. He was shunned, by the adults first of all, for being different - for being one of those that had everything handed to them on a plate, one of those who's kind pulled the strings of the world. Then by the children, somewhat for their parents views, but because he was better than them at some things - quick on his feet in soccer, a half-passable singing voice. It was easy for them to justify their parents hatred.

That was childhood. An only son to two people who hated him for how the others looked at them.

''It was raining like this - a downpour, as if the heavens had opened to hide his tears as he fled, or indeed, to wash away his guilt.''

On his 14th birthday, a boy he liked held his hand out in the woods.
On his 15th, that same boy called him a monster, and many worse things besides.
Turning 16, his father gave him a gun and kicked him out of the "family" home.
At 17, he'd been arrested for trying to return to that home, begging his parents forgiveness, eventually being allowed to return.
And when he turned 18, a crowd had gathered at the door step of his family home demanding that he be given over to them, a sacrificial lamb to make them feel better about their stasis. A dark motive force, impetus, at least, against the static decay they had endured. The real betrayal was when his father pushed him out the door toward them.

''Gunpowder ignition. The sound barely made him wince anymore, not after the things he'd done. Not after the things he'd heard. Gunshots were nothing compared to the scream that follows. There was no scream this time at least. A clean shot to a lonely soul. He would not be here when that mourning scream came, he was sure.''

The crowd had planned to hurt him, that much was sure. How? He didn't know, and he was as terrified as he had ever been - as he thought he could ever be - of the myriad ways that his debasement could take place.

''The Gun.''

They hadn't taken it from him. For all the things they had - his dignity, his safety, his love, they did not take his gun.

''The Trigger.''

Steeled nerves were the gift they had given him. A glib tongue to escape responsibility for some perceived wrongdoing one more time. An inescapable guilt and self-pity that lay where his heart did. It made the decision slightly easier. Only slightly.

Looking around, no one else had brought a weapon. Beating him to death with their bare hands was the punishment they had in mind. Senseless. Barbaric. Apropos. He could see his father, still in the doorway as they pushed him in to the middle of the street. Still there as the crowd formed a circle around him. Still there. And as Rembrandt's first love, that boy from the woods, stepped toward him with his fist held high, the horrible calculus solved itself. There was only one way this was going to end well for him.

''The Gun. The Trigger. Recoil. That scream that for as long as he lived, he would never escape, never forget, never unhear. The face of the boy he had loved, and that awful scream.They say that 'ware takes away a part of yourself - eats at your soul, wears away at your humanity, detaches you from those concerns. It just made the scream louder. Tears. Rain. Lead. No, Seattle was not terribly different from home at all.
''

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions, Too Pretty To Hit - while being undeniable different was an albatross (whatever those are) around his neck, people in Seattle are at least nicer to him for being pretty.

Biocompatability, Drug Tolerant - for some reason, maybe psychosomatic, his body is able to put up with a lot more invasive drug being thrown at it.

===Negative===

Creature of Comfort (Middle), Allergy (Seafood, Moderate) - Growing up dirt poor in a coastal village meant krill was part of most meals, even if it didn't last long in the digestive tract. Now that Tears has experienced a modicum of The Good Life, his diet (and stable sleeping arrangement) are something he simply refuses to give up without exceptional reason.

Bad Credit :- When you're desperate to get ahead fresh off the boat, proverbial or otherwise, you tend to write a lot of checks your account, or flesh, can't cash. His local stuffer shack employees even eye him with suspicion after one too many declined transfers while wearing a high end suit. While he's a tad more fiscally responsible these days, people usually prefer their money up front.

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1= Mundane. Eyes are a bit dimmer than the rest.
|Result2= Cybereyes, and not particularly wiz ones at that.
|Result3= Has an allergy. Essence is LOW.
|Result4= Bioware EVERYWHERE, Skin, Bones, Muscles, Synapses, Sweat Glands.
|Result5= Synch gene treatment.
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

Well-tailored black suit (but whatever colour he fancies at the time in AR, usually magenta, if he's at a club.)
Fine, well made synthleather boots. Again, black, irl.
Occasionally a pair of rounded tortoiseshell glasses. If he's partying, especially.

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-26T22:48:21Z

Ethebr11:

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Tears401.jpg|thumb|Tears, the Elf.]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Ethebr11]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = Elf
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = -1
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = 17/12/2053
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month= 12
|Day=17
|Year=2053
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[Drive URL Link]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - D Attributes - C Magic/Resonance - E Skills - B Resources - A
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=0
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==
''The rain was unending as it battered the pockmarked roads and monolthic plascrete apartment blocks. Here in Seattle on the western sea board of America, rain. Not unlike home. Wherever home was didn't matter anymore - a lie that perhaps he was beginning to believe. No, home held nothing but shattered glass and bitter, bitter memories now.''

Rembrandt "Hearts" Taylor had been born in 2053, in a small village in the United Kingdom - for whatever passed as a village now. An exurb of Greater London that stood as stark contrast to what many would think of as a village - in place of community were shattered families and abuse. There were no prospects here, no employable skills to be gained, no hope of a better life, even one in service to a corporation. People would sooner rob Peter to pay Paul than do something, anything, that might help raise them from the malaise of a village that the world had left behind. And escape? Well, escape was absolutely possible - moving to London, begging on the streets, working some dead-end job to pay for a squat and counting every NuYen - but people thought themselves better than that. Simple men and women, living side by side in mutual self-loathing, those were the ties that bound them,

And Rembrandt was born. Born an Elf. The luckiest of metahumans - naturally graceful, elegant, beautiful. Too good for the village. Too arrogant by half to have the temerity to exist. He was shunned, by the adults first of all, for being different - for being one of those that had everything handed to them on a plate, one of those who's kind pulled the strings of the world. Then by the children, somewhat for their parents views, but because he was better than them at some things - quick on his feet in soccer, a half-passable singing voice. It was easy for them to justify their parents hatred.

That was childhood. An only son to two people who hated him for how the others looked at them.

''It was raining like this - a downpour, as if the heavens had opened to hide his tears as he fled, or indeed, to wash away his guilt.''

On his 14th birthday, a boy he liked held his hand out in the woods.
On his 15th, that same boy called him a monster, and many worse things besides.
Turning 16, his father gave him a gun and kicked him out of the "family" home.
At 17, he'd been arrested for trying to return to that home, begging his parents forgiveness, eventually being allowed to return.
And when he turned 18, a crowd had gathered at the door step of his family home demanding that he be given over to them, a sacrificial lamb to make them feel better about their stasis. A dark motive force, impetus, at least, against the static decay they had endured. The real betrayal was when his father pushed him out the door toward them.

''Gunpowder ignition. The sound barely made him wince anymore, not after the things he'd done. Not after the things he'd heard. Gunshots were nothing compared to the scream that follows. There was no scream this time at least. A clean shot to a lonely soul. He would not be here when that mourning scream came, he was sure.''

The crowd had planned to hurt him, that much was sure. How? He didn't know, and he was as terrified as he had ever been - as he thought he could ever be - of the myriad ways that his debasement could take place.

''The Gun.''

They hadn't taken it from him. For all the things they had - his dignity, his safety, his love, they did not take his gun.

''The Trigger.''

Steeled nerves were the gift they had given him. A glib tongue to escape responsibility for some perceived wrongdoing one more time. An inescapable guilt and self-pity that lay where his heart did. It made the decision slightly easier. Only slightly.

Looking around, no one else had brought a weapon. Beating him to death with their bare hands was the punishment they had in mind. Senseless. Barbaric. Apropos. He could see his father, still in the doorway as they pushed him in to the middle of the street. Still there as the crowd formed a circle around him. Still there. And as Rembrandt's first love, that boy from the woods, stepped toward him with his fist held high, the horrible calculus solved itself. There was only one way this was going to end well for him.

''The Gun. The Trigger. Recoil. That scream that for as long as he lived, he would never escape, never forget, never unhear. The face of the boy he had loved, and that awful scream.They say that 'ware takes away a part of yourself - eats at your soul, wears away at your humanity, detaches you from those concerns. It just made the scream louder. Tears. Rain. Lead. No, Seattle was not terribly different from home at all.
''

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions, Too Pretty To Hit - while being undeniable different was an albatross (whatever those are) around his neck, people in Seattle are at least nicer to him for being pretty.

Biocompatability, Drug Tolerant - for some reason, maybe psychosomatic, his body is able to put up with a lot more invasive drug being thrown at it.

===Negative===

Creature of Comfort (Middle), Allergy (Seafood, Moderate) - Growing up dirt poor in a coastal village meant krill was part of most meals, even if it didn't last long in the digestive tract. Now that Tears has experienced a modicum of The Good Life, his diet (and stable sleeping arrangement) are something he simply refuses to give up without exceptional reason.

Bad Credit :- When you're desperate to get ahead fresh off the boat, proverbial or otherwise, you tend to write a lot of checks your account, or flesh, can't cash. His local stuffer shack employees even eye him with suspicion after one too many declined transfers while wearing a high end suit. While he's a tad more fiscally responsible these days, people usually prefer their money up front.

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1= Mundane. Eyes are a bit dimmer than the rest.
|Result2= Cybereyes, and not particularly wiz ones at that.
|Result3= Has an allergy. Essence is LOW.
|Result4= Bioware EVERYWHERE, Skin, Bones, Muscles, Synapses, Sweat Glands.
|Result5= Synch gene treatment.
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

Well-tailored black suit (but whatever colour he fancies at the time in AR, usually magenta, if he's at a club.)
Fine, well made synthleather boots. Again, black, irl.
Occasionally a pair of rounded tortoiseshell glasses. If he's partying, especially.

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-26T22:47:17Z

Ethebr11:

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Tears401.jpg|thumb|Tears, the Elf.]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Ethebr11]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = Elf
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = -1
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = 17/12/2053
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month= 12
|Day=17
|Year=2053
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[Drive URL Link]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - X Attributes - X Magic/Resonance - X Skills - X Resources - X
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==
''The rain was unending as it battered the pockmarked roads and monolthic plascrete apartment blocks. Here in Seattle on the western sea board of America, rain. Not unlike home. Wherever home was didn't matter anymore - a lie that perhaps he was beginning to believe. No, home held nothing but shattered glass and bitter, bitter memories now.''

Rembrandt "Hearts" Taylor had been born in 2053, in a small village in the United Kingdom - for whatever passed as a village now. An exurb of Greater London that stood as stark contrast to what many would think of as a village - in place of community were shattered families and abuse. There were no prospects here, no employable skills to be gained, no hope of a better life, even one in service to a corporation. People would sooner rob Peter to pay Paul than do something, anything, that might help raise them from the malaise of a village that the world had left behind. And escape? Well, escape was absolutely possible - moving to London, begging on the streets, working some dead-end job to pay for a squat and counting every NuYen - but people thought themselves better than that. Simple men and women, living side by side in mutual self-loathing, those were the ties that bound them,

And Rembrandt was born. Born an Elf. The luckiest of metahumans - naturally graceful, elegant, beautiful. Too good for the village. Too arrogant by half to have the temerity to exist. He was shunned, by the adults first of all, for being different - for being one of those that had everything handed to them on a plate, one of those who's kind pulled the strings of the world. Then by the children, somewhat for their parents views, but because he was better than them at some things - quick on his feet in soccer, a half-passable singing voice. It was easy for them to justify their parents hatred.

That was childhood. An only son to two people who hated him for how the others looked at them.

''It was raining like this - a downpour, as if the heavens had opened to hide his tears as he fled, or indeed, to wash away his guilt.''

On his 14th birthday, a boy he liked held his hand out in the woods.
On his 15th, that same boy called him a monster, and many worse things besides.
Turning 16, his father gave him a gun and kicked him out of the "family" home.
At 17, he'd been arrested for trying to return to that home, begging his parents forgiveness, eventually being allowed to return.
And when he turned 18, a crowd had gathered at the door step of his family home demanding that he be given over to them, a sacrificial lamb to make them feel better about their stasis. A dark motive force, impetus, at least, against the static decay they had endured. The real betrayal was when his father pushed him out the door toward them.

''Gunpowder ignition. The sound barely made him wince anymore, not after the things he'd done. Not after the things he'd heard. Gunshots were nothing compared to the scream that follows. There was no scream this time at least. A clean shot to a lonely soul. He would not be here when that mourning scream came, he was sure.''

The crowd had planned to hurt him, that much was sure. How? He didn't know, and he was as terrified as he had ever been - as he thought he could ever be - of the myriad ways that his debasement could take place.

''The Gun.''

They hadn't taken it from him. For all the things they had - his dignity, his safety, his love, they did not take his gun.

''The Trigger.''

Steeled nerves were the gift they had given him. A glib tongue to escape responsibility for some perceived wrongdoing one more time. An inescapable guilt and self-pity that lay where his heart did. It made the decision slightly easier. Only slightly.

Looking around, no one else had brought a weapon. Beating him to death with their bare hands was the punishment they had in mind. Senseless. Barbaric. Apropos. He could see his father, still in the doorway as they pushed him in to the middle of the street. Still there as the crowd formed a circle around him. Still there. And as Rembrandt's first love, that boy from the woods, stepped toward him with his fist held high, the horrible calculus solved itself. There was only one way this was going to end well for him.

''The Gun. The Trigger. Recoil. That scream that for as long as he lived, he would never escape, never forget, never unhear. The face of the boy he had loved, and that awful scream.They say that 'ware takes away a part of yourself - eats at your soul, wears away at your humanity, detaches you from those concerns. It just made the scream louder. Tears. Rain. Lead. No, Seattle was not terribly different from home at all.
''

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions, Too Pretty To Hit - while being undeniable different was an albatross (whatever those are) around his neck, people in Seattle are at least nicer to him for being pretty.

Biocompatability, Drug Tolerant - for some reason, maybe psychosomatic, his body is able to put up with a lot more invasive drug being thrown at it.

===Negative===

Creature of Comfort (Middle), Allergy (Seafood, Moderate) - Growing up dirt poor in a coastal village meant krill was part of most meals, even if it didn't last long in the digestive tract. Now that Tears has experienced a modicum of The Good Life, his diet (and stable sleeping arrangement) are something he simply refuses to give up without exceptional reason.

Bad Credit :- When you're desperate to get ahead fresh off the boat, proverbial or otherwise, you tend to write a lot of checks your account, or flesh, can't cash. His local stuffer shack employees even eye him with suspicion after one too many declined transfers while wearing a high end suit. While he's a tad more fiscally responsible these days, people usually prefer their money up front.

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1= Mundane. Eyes are a bit dimmer than the rest.
|Result2= Cybereyes, and not particularly wiz ones at that.
|Result3= Has an allergy. Essence is LOW.
|Result4= Bioware EVERYWHERE, Skin, Bones, Muscles, Synapses, Sweat Glands.
|Result5= Synch gene treatment.
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

Well-tailored black suit (but whatever colour he fancies at the time in AR, usually magenta, if he's at a club.)
Fine, well made synthleather boots. Again, black, irl.
Occasionally a pair of rounded tortoiseshell glasses. If he's partying, especially.

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-26T22:45:54Z

Ethebr11:

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Tears401.jpg|thumb|Tears, the Elf.]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Ethebr11]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = Elf
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = -1
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = Character's Date of Birth
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[Drive URL Link]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - X Attributes - X Magic/Resonance - X Skills - X Resources - X
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==
''The rain was unending as it battered the pockmarked roads and monolthic plascrete apartment blocks. Here in Seattle on the western sea board of America, rain. Not unlike home. Wherever home was didn't matter anymore - a lie that perhaps he was beginning to believe. No, home held nothing but shattered glass and bitter, bitter memories now.''

Rembrandt "Hearts" Taylor had been born in 2053, in a small village in the United Kingdom - for whatever passed as a village now. An exurb of Greater London that stood as stark contrast to what many would think of as a village - in place of community were shattered families and abuse. There were no prospects here, no employable skills to be gained, no hope of a better life, even one in service to a corporation. People would sooner rob Peter to pay Paul than do something, anything, that might help raise them from the malaise of a village that the world had left behind. And escape? Well, escape was absolutely possible - moving to London, begging on the streets, working some dead-end job to pay for a squat and counting every NuYen - but people thought themselves better than that. Simple men and women, living side by side in mutual self-loathing, those were the ties that bound them,

And Rembrandt was born. Born an Elf. The luckiest of metahumans - naturally graceful, elegant, beautiful. Too good for the village. Too arrogant by half to have the temerity to exist. He was shunned, by the adults first of all, for being different - for being one of those that had everything handed to them on a plate, one of those who's kind pulled the strings of the world. Then by the children, somewhat for their parents views, but because he was better than them at some things - quick on his feet in soccer, a half-passable singing voice. It was easy for them to justify their parents hatred.

That was childhood. An only son to two people who hated him for how the others looked at them.

''It was raining like this - a downpour, as if the heavens had opened to hide his tears as he fled, or indeed, to wash away his guilt.''

On his 14th birthday, a boy he liked held his hand out in the woods.
On his 15th, that same boy called him a monster, and many worse things besides.
Turning 16, his father gave him a gun and kicked him out of the "family" home.
At 17, he'd been arrested for trying to return to that home, begging his parents forgiveness, eventually being allowed to return.
And when he turned 18, a crowd had gathered at the door step of his family home demanding that he be given over to them, a sacrificial lamb to make them feel better about their stasis. A dark motive force, impetus, at least, against the static decay they had endured. The real betrayal was when his father pushed him out the door toward them.

''Gunpowder ignition. The sound barely made him wince anymore, not after the things he'd done. Not after the things he'd heard. Gunshots were nothing compared to the scream that follows. There was no scream this time at least. A clean shot to a lonely soul. He would not be here when that mourning scream came, he was sure.''

The crowd had planned to hurt him, that much was sure. How? He didn't know, and he was as terrified as he had ever been - as he thought he could ever be - of the myriad ways that his debasement could take place.

''The Gun.''

They hadn't taken it from him. For all the things they had - his dignity, his safety, his love, they did not take his gun.

''The Trigger.''

Steeled nerves were the gift they had given him. A glib tongue to escape responsibility for some perceived wrongdoing one more time. An inescapable guilt and self-pity that lay where his heart did. It made the decision slightly easier. Only slightly.

Looking around, no one else had brought a weapon. Beating him to death with their bare hands was the punishment they had in mind. Senseless. Barbaric. Apropos. He could see his father, still in the doorway as they pushed him in to the middle of the street. Still there as the crowd formed a circle around him. Still there. And as Rembrandt's first love, that boy from the woods, stepped toward him with his fist held high, the horrible calculus solved itself. There was only one way this was going to end well for him.

''The Gun. The Trigger. Recoil. That scream that for as long as he lived, he would never escape, never forget, never unhear. The face of the boy he had loved, and that awful scream.They say that 'ware takes away a part of yourself - eats at your soul, wears away at your humanity, detaches you from those concerns. It just made the scream louder. Tears. Rain. Lead. No, Seattle was not terribly different from home at all.
''

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions, Too Pretty To Hit - while being undeniable different was an albatross (whatever those are) around his neck, people in Seattle are at least nicer to him for being pretty.

Biocompatability, Drug Tolerant - for some reason, maybe psychosomatic, his body is able to put up with a lot more invasive drug being thrown at it.

===Negative===

Creature of Comfort (Middle), Allergy (Seafood, Moderate) - Growing up dirt poor in a coastal village meant krill was part of most meals, even if it didn't last long in the digestive tract. Now that Tears has experienced a modicum of The Good Life, his diet (and stable sleeping arrangement) are something he simply refuses to give up without exceptional reason.

Bad Credit :- When you're desperate to get ahead fresh off the boat, proverbial or otherwise, you tend to write a lot of checks your account, or flesh, can't cash. His local stuffer shack employees even eye him with suspicion after one too many declined transfers while wearing a high end suit. While he's a tad more fiscally responsible these days, people usually prefer their money up front.

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1= Mundane. Eyes are a bit dimmer than the rest.
|Result2= Cybereyes, and not particularly wiz ones at that.
|Result3= Has an allergy. Essence is LOW.
|Result4= Bioware EVERYWHERE, Skin, Bones, Muscles, Synapses, Sweat Glands.
|Result5= Synch gene treatment.
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

Well-tailored black suit (but whatever colour he fancies at the time in AR, usually magenta, if he's at a club.)
Fine, well made synthleather boots. Again, black, irl.
Occasionally a pair of rounded tortoiseshell glasses. If he's partying, especially.

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-26T22:44:55Z

Ethebr11: /* Clothing */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Tears401.jpg|thumb|Tears, the Elf.]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Your_Handle_Here Reddit Name]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = (Metatype Here)
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = 0
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = Character's Date of Birth
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[Drive URL Link]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - X Attributes - X Magic/Resonance - X Skills - X Resources - X
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==
''The rain was unending as it battered the pockmarked roads and monolthic plascrete apartment blocks. Here in Seattle on the western sea board of America, rain. Not unlike home. Wherever home was didn't matter anymore - a lie that perhaps he was beginning to believe. No, home held nothing but shattered glass and bitter, bitter memories now.''

Rembrandt "Hearts" Taylor had been born in 2053, in a small village in the United Kingdom - for whatever passed as a village now. An exurb of Greater London that stood as stark contrast to what many would think of as a village - in place of community were shattered families and abuse. There were no prospects here, no employable skills to be gained, no hope of a better life, even one in service to a corporation. People would sooner rob Peter to pay Paul than do something, anything, that might help raise them from the malaise of a village that the world had left behind. And escape? Well, escape was absolutely possible - moving to London, begging on the streets, working some dead-end job to pay for a squat and counting every NuYen - but people thought themselves better than that. Simple men and women, living side by side in mutual self-loathing, those were the ties that bound them,

And Rembrandt was born. Born an Elf. The luckiest of metahumans - naturally graceful, elegant, beautiful. Too good for the village. Too arrogant by half to have the temerity to exist. He was shunned, by the adults first of all, for being different - for being one of those that had everything handed to them on a plate, one of those who's kind pulled the strings of the world. Then by the children, somewhat for their parents views, but because he was better than them at some things - quick on his feet in soccer, a half-passable singing voice. It was easy for them to justify their parents hatred.

That was childhood. An only son to two people who hated him for how the others looked at them.

''It was raining like this - a downpour, as if the heavens had opened to hide his tears as he fled, or indeed, to wash away his guilt.''

On his 14th birthday, a boy he liked held his hand out in the woods.
On his 15th, that same boy called him a monster, and many worse things besides.
Turning 16, his father gave him a gun and kicked him out of the "family" home.
At 17, he'd been arrested for trying to return to that home, begging his parents forgiveness, eventually being allowed to return.
And when he turned 18, a crowd had gathered at the door step of his family home demanding that he be given over to them, a sacrificial lamb to make them feel better about their stasis. A dark motive force, impetus, at least, against the static decay they had endured. The real betrayal was when his father pushed him out the door toward them.

''Gunpowder ignition. The sound barely made him wince anymore, not after the things he'd done. Not after the things he'd heard. Gunshots were nothing compared to the scream that follows. There was no scream this time at least. A clean shot to a lonely soul. He would not be here when that mourning scream came, he was sure.''

The crowd had planned to hurt him, that much was sure. How? He didn't know, and he was as terrified as he had ever been - as he thought he could ever be - of the myriad ways that his debasement could take place.

''The Gun.''

They hadn't taken it from him. For all the things they had - his dignity, his safety, his love, they did not take his gun.

''The Trigger.''

Steeled nerves were the gift they had given him. A glib tongue to escape responsibility for some perceived wrongdoing one more time. An inescapable guilt and self-pity that lay where his heart did. It made the decision slightly easier. Only slightly.

Looking around, no one else had brought a weapon. Beating him to death with their bare hands was the punishment they had in mind. Senseless. Barbaric. Apropos. He could see his father, still in the doorway as they pushed him in to the middle of the street. Still there as the crowd formed a circle around him. Still there. And as Rembrandt's first love, that boy from the woods, stepped toward him with his fist held high, the horrible calculus solved itself. There was only one way this was going to end well for him.

''The Gun. The Trigger. Recoil. That scream that for as long as he lived, he would never escape, never forget, never unhear. The face of the boy he had loved, and that awful scream.They say that 'ware takes away a part of yourself - eats at your soul, wears away at your humanity, detaches you from those concerns. It just made the scream louder. Tears. Rain. Lead. No, Seattle was not terribly different from home at all.
''

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions, Too Pretty To Hit - while being undeniable different was an albatross (whatever those are) around his neck, people in Seattle are at least nicer to him for being pretty.

Biocompatability, Drug Tolerant - for some reason, maybe psychosomatic, his body is able to put up with a lot more invasive drug being thrown at it.

===Negative===

Creature of Comfort (Middle), Allergy (Seafood, Moderate) - Growing up dirt poor in a coastal village meant krill was part of most meals, even if it didn't last long in the digestive tract. Now that Tears has experienced a modicum of The Good Life, his diet (and stable sleeping arrangement) are something he simply refuses to give up without exceptional reason.

Bad Credit :- When you're desperate to get ahead fresh off the boat, proverbial or otherwise, you tend to write a lot of checks your account, or flesh, can't cash. His local stuffer shack employees even eye him with suspicion after one too many declined transfers while wearing a high end suit. While he's a tad more fiscally responsible these days, people usually prefer their money up front.

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1= Mundane. Eyes are a bit dimmer than the rest.
|Result2= Cybereyes, and not particularly wiz ones at that.
|Result3= Has an allergy. Essence is LOW.
|Result4= Bioware EVERYWHERE, Skin, Bones, Muscles, Synapses, Sweat Glands.
|Result5= Synch gene treatment.
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

Well-tailored black suit (but whatever colour he fancies at the time in AR, usually magenta, if he's at a club.)
Fine, well made synthleather boots. Again, black, irl.
Occasionally a pair of rounded tortoiseshell glasses. If he's partying, especially.

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-26T22:37:24Z

Ethebr11: /* Background */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Tears401.jpg|thumb|Tears, the Elf.]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Your_Handle_Here Reddit Name]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = (Metatype Here)
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = 0
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = Character's Date of Birth
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[Drive URL Link]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - X Attributes - X Magic/Resonance - X Skills - X Resources - X
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==
''The rain was unending as it battered the pockmarked roads and monolthic plascrete apartment blocks. Here in Seattle on the western sea board of America, rain. Not unlike home. Wherever home was didn't matter anymore - a lie that perhaps he was beginning to believe. No, home held nothing but shattered glass and bitter, bitter memories now.''

Rembrandt "Hearts" Taylor had been born in 2053, in a small village in the United Kingdom - for whatever passed as a village now. An exurb of Greater London that stood as stark contrast to what many would think of as a village - in place of community were shattered families and abuse. There were no prospects here, no employable skills to be gained, no hope of a better life, even one in service to a corporation. People would sooner rob Peter to pay Paul than do something, anything, that might help raise them from the malaise of a village that the world had left behind. And escape? Well, escape was absolutely possible - moving to London, begging on the streets, working some dead-end job to pay for a squat and counting every NuYen - but people thought themselves better than that. Simple men and women, living side by side in mutual self-loathing, those were the ties that bound them,

And Rembrandt was born. Born an Elf. The luckiest of metahumans - naturally graceful, elegant, beautiful. Too good for the village. Too arrogant by half to have the temerity to exist. He was shunned, by the adults first of all, for being different - for being one of those that had everything handed to them on a plate, one of those who's kind pulled the strings of the world. Then by the children, somewhat for their parents views, but because he was better than them at some things - quick on his feet in soccer, a half-passable singing voice. It was easy for them to justify their parents hatred.

That was childhood. An only son to two people who hated him for how the others looked at them.

''It was raining like this - a downpour, as if the heavens had opened to hide his tears as he fled, or indeed, to wash away his guilt.''

On his 14th birthday, a boy he liked held his hand out in the woods.
On his 15th, that same boy called him a monster, and many worse things besides.
Turning 16, his father gave him a gun and kicked him out of the "family" home.
At 17, he'd been arrested for trying to return to that home, begging his parents forgiveness, eventually being allowed to return.
And when he turned 18, a crowd had gathered at the door step of his family home demanding that he be given over to them, a sacrificial lamb to make them feel better about their stasis. A dark motive force, impetus, at least, against the static decay they had endured. The real betrayal was when his father pushed him out the door toward them.

''Gunpowder ignition. The sound barely made him wince anymore, not after the things he'd done. Not after the things he'd heard. Gunshots were nothing compared to the scream that follows. There was no scream this time at least. A clean shot to a lonely soul. He would not be here when that mourning scream came, he was sure.''

The crowd had planned to hurt him, that much was sure. How? He didn't know, and he was as terrified as he had ever been - as he thought he could ever be - of the myriad ways that his debasement could take place.

''The Gun.''

They hadn't taken it from him. For all the things they had - his dignity, his safety, his love, they did not take his gun.

''The Trigger.''

Steeled nerves were the gift they had given him. A glib tongue to escape responsibility for some perceived wrongdoing one more time. An inescapable guilt and self-pity that lay where his heart did. It made the decision slightly easier. Only slightly.

Looking around, no one else had brought a weapon. Beating him to death with their bare hands was the punishment they had in mind. Senseless. Barbaric. Apropos. He could see his father, still in the doorway as they pushed him in to the middle of the street. Still there as the crowd formed a circle around him. Still there. And as Rembrandt's first love, that boy from the woods, stepped toward him with his fist held high, the horrible calculus solved itself. There was only one way this was going to end well for him.

''The Gun. The Trigger. Recoil. That scream that for as long as he lived, he would never escape, never forget, never unhear. The face of the boy he had loved, and that awful scream.They say that 'ware takes away a part of yourself - eats at your soul, wears away at your humanity, detaches you from those concerns. It just made the scream louder. Tears. Rain. Lead. No, Seattle was not terribly different from home at all.
''

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions, Too Pretty To Hit - while being undeniable different was an albatross (whatever those are) around his neck, people in Seattle are at least nicer to him for being pretty.

Biocompatability, Drug Tolerant - for some reason, maybe psychosomatic, his body is able to put up with a lot more invasive drug being thrown at it.

===Negative===

Creature of Comfort (Middle), Allergy (Seafood, Moderate) - Growing up dirt poor in a coastal village meant krill was part of most meals, even if it didn't last long in the digestive tract. Now that Tears has experienced a modicum of The Good Life, his diet (and stable sleeping arrangement) are something he simply refuses to give up without exceptional reason.

Bad Credit :- When you're desperate to get ahead fresh off the boat, proverbial or otherwise, you tend to write a lot of checks your account, or flesh, can't cash. His local stuffer shack employees even eye him with suspicion after one too many declined transfers while wearing a high end suit. While he's a tad more fiscally responsible these days, people usually prefer their money up front.

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1= Mundane. Eyes are a bit dimmer than the rest.
|Result2= Cybereyes, and not particularly wiz ones at that.
|Result3= Has an allergy. Essence is LOW.
|Result4= Bioware EVERYWHERE, Skin, Bones, Muscles, Synapses, Sweat Glands.
|Result5= Synch gene treatment.
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-26T22:35:20Z

Ethebr11:

File:Tears401.jpg

2023-09-26T22:34:23Z

Ethebr11:

Tears, the Elf Prettyboy

Tears

2023-09-25T18:13:02Z

Ethebr11: /* Assensing Table */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Placeholder.png|200px]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Your_Handle_Here Reddit Name]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = (Metatype Here)
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = 0
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = Character's Date of Birth
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[Drive URL Link]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - X Attributes - X Magic/Resonance - X Skills - X Resources - X
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions, Too Pretty To Hit - while being undeniable different was an albatross (whatever those are) around his neck, people in Seattle are at least nicer to him for being pretty.

Biocompatability, Drug Tolerant - for some reason, maybe psychosomatic, his body is able to put up with a lot more invasive drug being thrown at it.

===Negative===

Creature of Comfort (Middle), Allergy (Seafood, Moderate) - Growing up dirt poor in a coastal village meant krill was part of most meals, even if it didn't last long in the digestive tract. Now that Tears has experienced a modicum of The Good Life, his diet (and stable sleeping arrangement) are something he simply refuses to give up without exceptional reason.

Bad Credit :- When you're desperate to get ahead fresh off the boat, proverbial or otherwise, you tend to write a lot of checks your account, or flesh, can't cash. His local stuffer shack employees even eye him with suspicion after one too many declined transfers while wearing a high end suit. While he's a tad more fiscally responsible these days, people usually prefer their money up front.

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1= Mundane. Eyes are a bit dimmer than the rest.
|Result2= Cybereyes, and not particularly wiz ones at that.
|Result3= Has an allergy. Essence is LOW.
|Result4= Bioware EVERYWHERE, Skin, Bones, Muscles, Synapses, Sweat Glands.
|Result5= Synch gene treatment.
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-25T17:56:39Z

Ethebr11: /* Shadow Community Table */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Placeholder.png|200px]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Your_Handle_Here Reddit Name]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = (Metatype Here)
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = 0
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = Character's Date of Birth
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[Drive URL Link]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - X Attributes - X Magic/Resonance - X Skills - X Resources - X
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions, Too Pretty To Hit - while being undeniable different was an albatross (whatever those are) around his neck, people in Seattle are at least nicer to him for being pretty.

Biocompatability, Drug Tolerant - for some reason, maybe psychosomatic, his body is able to put up with a lot more invasive drug being thrown at it.

===Negative===

Creature of Comfort (Middle), Allergy (Seafood, Moderate) - Growing up dirt poor in a coastal village meant krill was part of most meals, even if it didn't last long in the digestive tract. Now that Tears has experienced a modicum of The Good Life, his diet (and stable sleeping arrangement) are something he simply refuses to give up without exceptional reason.

Bad Credit :- When you're desperate to get ahead fresh off the boat, proverbial or otherwise, you tend to write a lot of checks your account, or flesh, can't cash. His local stuffer shack employees even eye him with suspicion after one too many declined transfers while wearing a high end suit. While he's a tad more fiscally responsible these days, people usually prefer their money up front.

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Yeah he's fresh faced, been sniffing around about certain augs and clinics. Whatever he's got probably ain't cutting it for him.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1=
|Result2=
|Result3=
|Result4=
|Result5=
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-25T17:55:17Z

Ethebr11: /* Shadow Community Table */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Placeholder.png|200px]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Your_Handle_Here Reddit Name]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = (Metatype Here)
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = 0
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = Character's Date of Birth
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[Drive URL Link]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - X Attributes - X Magic/Resonance - X Skills - X Resources - X
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions, Too Pretty To Hit - while being undeniable different was an albatross (whatever those are) around his neck, people in Seattle are at least nicer to him for being pretty.

Biocompatability, Drug Tolerant - for some reason, maybe psychosomatic, his body is able to put up with a lot more invasive drug being thrown at it.

===Negative===

Creature of Comfort (Middle), Allergy (Seafood, Moderate) - Growing up dirt poor in a coastal village meant krill was part of most meals, even if it didn't last long in the digestive tract. Now that Tears has experienced a modicum of The Good Life, his diet (and stable sleeping arrangement) are something he simply refuses to give up without exceptional reason.

Bad Credit :- When you're desperate to get ahead fresh off the boat, proverbial or otherwise, you tend to write a lot of checks your account, or flesh, can't cash. His local stuffer shack employees even eye him with suspicion after one too many declined transfers while wearing a high end suit. While he's a tad more fiscally responsible these days, people usually prefer their money up front.

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult= Fresh faced, been sniffing around about bioware and where to get the good stuff.
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult= Hey chummer, just make sure you get paid up front if you're doing work for him - its been a while since, but he's skipped out on a few debts since he popped up.
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult= I just feel sorry for him, omae, I see him sat at some of the clubs chatting people up, and he's got a sharp tongue mind you, but there's an emptiness in those eyes we all recognise.
}}

==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1=
|Result2=
|Result3=
|Result4=
|Result5=
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-25T17:50:50Z

Ethebr11: /* Matrix Search Table */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Placeholder.png|200px]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Your_Handle_Here Reddit Name]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = (Metatype Here)
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = 0
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = Character's Date of Birth
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[Drive URL Link]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - X Attributes - X Magic/Resonance - X Skills - X Resources - X
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions, Too Pretty To Hit - while being undeniable different was an albatross (whatever those are) around his neck, people in Seattle are at least nicer to him for being pretty.

Biocompatability, Drug Tolerant - for some reason, maybe psychosomatic, his body is able to put up with a lot more invasive drug being thrown at it.

===Negative===

Creature of Comfort (Middle), Allergy (Seafood, Moderate) - Growing up dirt poor in a coastal village meant krill was part of most meals, even if it didn't last long in the digestive tract. Now that Tears has experienced a modicum of The Good Life, his diet (and stable sleeping arrangement) are something he simply refuses to give up without exceptional reason.

Bad Credit :- When you're desperate to get ahead fresh off the boat, proverbial or otherwise, you tend to write a lot of checks your account, or flesh, can't cash. His local stuffer shack employees even eye him with suspicion after one too many declined transfers while wearing a high end suit. While he's a tad more fiscally responsible these days, people usually prefer their money up front.

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult= <<TEARS HAS BEEN CIRCUMSTANTIALLY LINKED TO A NUMBER OF THEFTS, PARTICULARLY BIOWARE>>
|MidResult= <<RUNNER OPERATES UNDER THE SIN OF MARTIN CHERIE, REGISTERED TO HORIZON ADDRESSES IN THE UK>>
|HighResult= <<BELIEVED TO BE LINKED TO A MASS MURDER IN AN EXURB OF GREATER LONDON, DNA DOES NOT MATCH RECORDS ON SIN>>
}}

==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult=
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult=
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult=
}}
==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1=
|Result2=
|Result3=
|Result4=
|Result5=
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-25T17:27:23Z

Ethebr11: /* Contacts */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Placeholder.png|200px]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Your_Handle_Here Reddit Name]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = (Metatype Here)
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = 0
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = Character's Date of Birth
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[Drive URL Link]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - X Attributes - X Magic/Resonance - X Skills - X Resources - X
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions, Too Pretty To Hit - while being undeniable different was an albatross (whatever those are) around his neck, people in Seattle are at least nicer to him for being pretty.

Biocompatability, Drug Tolerant - for some reason, maybe psychosomatic, his body is able to put up with a lot more invasive drug being thrown at it.

===Negative===

Creature of Comfort (Middle), Allergy (Seafood, Moderate) - Growing up dirt poor in a coastal village meant krill was part of most meals, even if it didn't last long in the digestive tract. Now that Tears has experienced a modicum of The Good Life, his diet (and stable sleeping arrangement) are something he simply refuses to give up without exceptional reason.

Bad Credit :- When you're desperate to get ahead fresh off the boat, proverbial or otherwise, you tend to write a lot of checks your account, or flesh, can't cash. His local stuffer shack employees even eye him with suspicion after one too many declined transfers while wearing a high end suit. While he's a tad more fiscally responsible these days, people usually prefer their money up front.

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia "Millie" Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult=
|MidResult=
|HighResult=
}}
==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult=
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult=
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult=
}}
==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1=
|Result2=
|Result3=
|Result4=
|Result5=
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-25T17:24:25Z

Ethebr11: /* Contacts */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Placeholder.png|200px]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Your_Handle_Here Reddit Name]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = (Metatype Here)
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = 0
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = Character's Date of Birth
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[Drive URL Link]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - X Attributes - X Magic/Resonance - X Skills - X Resources - X
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions, Too Pretty To Hit - while being undeniable different was an albatross (whatever those are) around his neck, people in Seattle are at least nicer to him for being pretty.

Biocompatability, Drug Tolerant - for some reason, maybe psychosomatic, his body is able to put up with a lot more invasive drug being thrown at it.

===Negative===

Creature of Comfort (Middle), Allergy (Seafood, Moderate) - Growing up dirt poor in a coastal village meant krill was part of most meals, even if it didn't last long in the digestive tract. Now that Tears has experienced a modicum of The Good Life, his diet (and stable sleeping arrangement) are something he simply refuses to give up without exceptional reason.

Bad Credit :- When you're desperate to get ahead fresh off the boat, proverbial or otherwise, you tend to write a lot of checks your account, or flesh, can't cash. His local stuffer shack employees even eye him with suspicion after one too many declined transfers while wearing a high end suit. While he's a tad more fiscally responsible these days, people usually prefer their money up front.

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name= Ace Powers
|Loyalty= 1
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Dr. Nightshade
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Freya
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name= Amelia Carter
|Loyalty= 2
|Chips=Even
|}}


}}


===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult=
|MidResult=
|HighResult=
}}
==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
|LowResult=
|MidThreshold=3
|MidResult=
|HighThreshold=5
|HighResult=
}}
==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
|Result1=
|Result2=
|Result3=
|Result4=
|Result5=
}}

==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-25T17:21:10Z

Ethebr11: /* Negative */

{{Infobox
|YourWikiUsername =
|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Placeholder.png|200px]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
|header4=
|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Your_Handle_Here Reddit Name]
|label7= Metatype
|data7 = (Metatype Here)
|label8 = Street Cred
|data8= 0
|label9 = Notoriety
|data9 = 0
|label10 = Public Awareness
|data10= 0
|label11 = Titles and Awards
|data11 =
|label12 = CDP
|data12 = {{CDP|
|Expenses=0
|Bonuses=0
|}} 
|label13 = D.O.B.
|data13 = Character's Date of Birth
|label14 = Age
|data14 = {{Age| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|}} 
|label15 = Folder
|data15 =[Drive URL Link]
|label16 = Priority
|data16 = Metatype - X Attributes - X Magic/Resonance - X Skills - X Resources - X
|label17 = #Max IGs/Ascension
|data17 = {{IGTracker| 
|Month=
|Day=
|Year=
|AwakenedStatus=
|}} 
}}

=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions, Too Pretty To Hit - while being undeniable different was an albatross (whatever those are) around his neck, people in Seattle are at least nicer to him for being pretty.

Biocompatability, Drug Tolerant - for some reason, maybe psychosomatic, his body is able to put up with a lot more invasive drug being thrown at it.

===Negative===

Creature of Comfort (Middle), Allergy (Seafood, Moderate) - Growing up dirt poor in a coastal village meant krill was part of most meals, even if it didn't last long in the digestive tract. Now that Tears has experienced a modicum of The Good Life, his diet (and stable sleeping arrangement) are something he simply refuses to give up without exceptional reason.

Bad Credit :- When you're desperate to get ahead fresh off the boat, proverbial or otherwise, you tend to write a lot of checks your account, or flesh, can't cash. His local stuffer shack employees even eye him with suspicion after one too many declined transfers while wearing a high end suit. While he's a tad more fiscally responsible these days, people usually prefer their money up front.

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
|Name=
|Loyalty=
|Chips=Even
|}}

{{HasContact|
|Name=
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{{HasContact|
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===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowResult=
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}}
==Shadow Community Table==
{{SearchTable|
|LowThreshold=1
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|MidThreshold=3
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==Assensing Table==
{{AssensingTable|
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==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-25T16:42:45Z

Ethebr11: /* Positive */

{{Infobox
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|title = {{PAGENAME}} 
|image= [[File:Placeholder.png|200px]] 
|header1= Archetype
|header2= (Short Blurb)
|header3=
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|label5 = Discord
|data5 = @Discord#Tag
|label6 = Reddit
|data6 = [https://www.reddit.com/user/Your_Handle_Here Reddit Name]
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=Character Information=

===Summary===
Mundane elf face who has been broken by life and is turning those lessons in to something worth living for, even if it costs his flesh, mind and soul.

===Goals===
Short term:- Upgrade his 'ware from the cheap drek off the van he smuggled in on in to something that makes him comfortable in his own (ortho)skin.

Long term:- Find somewhere he fits in, people who accept him, and move on from the trauma of his past.

==Background==

== Narrative Significant Qualities ==

===Positive===
First Impressions, Too Pretty To Hit - while being undeniable different was an albatross (whatever those are) around his neck, people in Seattle are at least nicer to him for being pretty.

Biocompatability, Drug Tolerant - for some reason, maybe psychosomatic, his body is able to put up with a lot more invasive drug being thrown at it.

===Negative===

==Run History==
{{RunHistory}}


==Affiliations==

===Contacts===


{{ContactTable|


{{HasContact|
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|}}

{{HasContact|
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===Organizations===


===Allies===

===Enemies===

=In Character Information=

==Symbols and Signatures==

==Matrix Search Table==
{{SearchTable|
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==Shadow Community Table==
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==SINs==

==Appearance==

=== Clothing ===

===Matrix Persona===

==Media Mentions==

==ShadowGrid Profile Comments==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

Tears

2023-09-25T16:40:27Z

Ethebr11: /* Goals */

Tears

2023-09-25T16:37:40Z

Ethebr11: /* Summary */

Tears

2023-09-25T16:36:26Z

Ethebr11: Created page with "{{Infobox |YourWikiUsername = |title = {{PAGENAME}}  |image= 200px  |header1= Archetype |header2= (Short Blurb) |header3= |header4= |label5 = Discord |data5 = @Discord#Tag |label6 = Reddit |data6 = [https://www.reddit...."