Difference between revisions of "Bishop"
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|}} <!-- The above will automatically update your character's age on their birthday! Just enter their month, day, and year of birth in numeric format. --> | |}} <!-- The above will automatically update your character's age on their birthday! Just enter their month, day, and year of birth in numeric format. --> | ||
|label15 = Folder | |label15 = Folder | ||
|data15 = | |data15 = https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1gXTtlIFVF41Jxc45EOE-nV_epVWa4CXb?usp=share_link | ||
|label16 = Priority | |label16 = Priority | ||
|data16 = Metatype - E <br /> Attributes - B <br /> Magic/Resonance - E <br /> Skills - B <br /> Resources - A | |data16 = Metatype - E <br /> Attributes - B <br /> Magic/Resonance - E <br /> Skills - B <br /> Resources - A | ||
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===Goals=== | ===Goals=== | ||
*Maintain a permanent lifestyle of High or luxury | *Maintain a permanent lifestyle of High or luxury | ||
*Fuck over the Eighty Eight triads at any chance, they killed | *Fuck over the Eighty Eight triads at any chance, they killed my parents | ||
==Background== | ==Background== | ||
My name is John Lycroft. I grew up in Tacoma. We grew up poor. I remember dad saving what little he could to get us noodles from round the bend. One of the little diamonds in the rough that was. Wasn’t great in school, despite my parents best efforts, mostly disruptive fighting and all that noise. Moved around a bunch. Got into drugs pretty quickly, Kamikaze was my taste, the rush really reached something ethereal, it felt like I could fly ,one of the few times you feel free growing up in Fife. Course I couldn’t and I wasn’t one of the poor drekheads who tried. I found history interesting though I found myself idolising historical figures, great men who defined the world particularly amongst the ancient and classical periods. Lost mum and dad pretty soon after barely graduating.Some Eighty Eight shit head decided he could use a cred stick. Killed them both, less than 20 grand for it. So yeah, Fuck the Eighty Eight . Dad donated most of his possessions to me but surprising fucking no one they were slowly taken, through either inheritance tax or via snatching family members. Inheritance really makes animals of the lot of us. The only thing I fought to keep was Dad’s sunday suit. Vashon Island Sleeping Tiger, Only nice thing dad owned rest of it went on keeping us alive. Throughout life I had felt a sense of longing, for greatness, recognition, and security. Dad always wanted me to be better, to “rise above the shit”. That wasn’t going to be found in the regular walks of life. Not in Tacoma, and not without a silver spoon the size of my fucking arm. No wage slave lives like this. No instead they fucking roll over and let themselves be gutted by a machine that is designed to consume them, drek heads. Instead l found myself as most do without a job, no money, one rent payment away from homelessness and nursing a nasty kamikaze withdrawal side effects. Ended up running odd jobs with gangs, running messages, protecting deals, whatever was needed to whoever the paid the highest. After a while I made some connections people with real money and real jobs. One catch. Needed to burn my SIN. no way back. Told me I can't keep both John Lycroft, a trackable and traceable man and Bishop, my runner persona at the same time. "I've grown attached to my name, known it as long as I can remember" I said. But they insisted, No real option when thats the only source of income coming in. With that John Lycroft was dead, all traces of him slowly disappeared, no more mementos of his past, no son to Laura and Micheal Lycroft, now, only Bishop remains. with no way back. “Ilea Acta Est”, The die is cast. Caesar said that when crossed the Rubicon, Never felt more like that since I burned that bridge. | My name is John Lycroft. I grew up in Tacoma. We grew up poor. I remember dad saving what little he could to get us noodles from round the bend. One of the little diamonds in the rough that was. Wasn’t great in school, despite my parents best efforts, mostly disruptive fighting and all that noise. Moved around a bunch. Got into drugs pretty quickly, Kamikaze was my taste, the rush really reached something ethereal, it felt like I could fly ,one of the few times you feel free growing up in Fife. Course I couldn’t and I wasn’t one of the poor drekheads who tried. I found history interesting though I found myself idolising historical figures, great men who defined the world particularly amongst the ancient and classical periods. Lost mum and dad pretty soon after barely graduating.Some Eighty Eight shit head decided he could use a cred stick. Killed them both, less than 20 grand for it. So yeah, Fuck the Eighty Eight . Dad donated most of his possessions to me but surprising fucking no one they were slowly taken, through either inheritance tax or via snatching family members. Inheritance really makes animals of the lot of us. The only thing I fought to keep was Dad’s sunday suit. Vashon Island Sleeping Tiger, Only nice thing dad owned rest of it went on keeping us alive. Throughout life I had felt a sense of longing, for greatness, recognition, and security. Dad always wanted me to be better, to “rise above the shit”. That wasn’t going to be found in the regular walks of life. Not in Tacoma, and not without a silver spoon the size of my fucking arm. No wage slave lives like this. No instead they fucking roll over and let themselves be gutted by a machine that is designed to consume them, drek heads. Instead l found myself as most do without a job, no money, one rent payment away from homelessness and nursing a nasty kamikaze withdrawal side effects. Ended up running odd jobs with gangs, running messages, protecting deals, whatever was needed to whoever the paid the highest. After a while I made some connections people with real money and real jobs. One catch. Needed to burn my SIN. no way back. Told me I can't keep both John Lycroft, a trackable and traceable man and Bishop, my runner persona at the same time. "I've grown attached to my name, known it as long as I can remember" I said. But they insisted, No real option when thats the only source of income coming in. With that John Lycroft was dead, all traces of him slowly disappeared, no more mementos of his past, no son to Laura and Micheal Lycroft, now, only Bishop remains. with no way back. “Ilea Acta Est”, The die is cast. Caesar said that when crossed the Rubicon, Never felt more like that since I burned that bridge. | ||
Revision as of 17:47, 7 December 2022
| Bishop directs here. If you are looking for the retired Bishop as played by Kanehorus, click here. |
| Archetype:Street Samurai | |
|---|---|
| Full Limb Replacement Muscle | |
| DrFantastic | @DrFantastic#9254 |
| https://www.reddit.com/user/Yugaaaa | |
| Metatype | Human |
| Street Cred | 0 |
| Notoriety | 0 |
| Public Awareness | 0 |
| CDP | 0 |
| D.O.B. | 01/06/58 |
| 25 | 27 |
| Folder | https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1gXTtlIFVF41Jxc45EOE-nV_epVWa4CXb?usp=share_link |
| Priority | Metatype - E Attributes - B Magic/Resonance - E Skills - B Resources - A |
Character Information
Summary
Full Limb Replacement Street Samurai who can handle themself in a ranged fight.
Goals
- Maintain a permanent lifestyle of High or luxury
- Fuck over the Eighty Eight triads at any chance, they killed my parents
Background
My name is John Lycroft. I grew up in Tacoma. We grew up poor. I remember dad saving what little he could to get us noodles from round the bend. One of the little diamonds in the rough that was. Wasn’t great in school, despite my parents best efforts, mostly disruptive fighting and all that noise. Moved around a bunch. Got into drugs pretty quickly, Kamikaze was my taste, the rush really reached something ethereal, it felt like I could fly ,one of the few times you feel free growing up in Fife. Course I couldn’t and I wasn’t one of the poor drekheads who tried. I found history interesting though I found myself idolising historical figures, great men who defined the world particularly amongst the ancient and classical periods. Lost mum and dad pretty soon after barely graduating.Some Eighty Eight shit head decided he could use a cred stick. Killed them both, less than 20 grand for it. So yeah, Fuck the Eighty Eight . Dad donated most of his possessions to me but surprising fucking no one they were slowly taken, through either inheritance tax or via snatching family members. Inheritance really makes animals of the lot of us. The only thing I fought to keep was Dad’s sunday suit. Vashon Island Sleeping Tiger, Only nice thing dad owned rest of it went on keeping us alive. Throughout life I had felt a sense of longing, for greatness, recognition, and security. Dad always wanted me to be better, to “rise above the shit”. That wasn’t going to be found in the regular walks of life. Not in Tacoma, and not without a silver spoon the size of my fucking arm. No wage slave lives like this. No instead they fucking roll over and let themselves be gutted by a machine that is designed to consume them, drek heads. Instead l found myself as most do without a job, no money, one rent payment away from homelessness and nursing a nasty kamikaze withdrawal side effects. Ended up running odd jobs with gangs, running messages, protecting deals, whatever was needed to whoever the paid the highest. After a while I made some connections people with real money and real jobs. One catch. Needed to burn my SIN. no way back. Told me I can't keep both John Lycroft, a trackable and traceable man and Bishop, my runner persona at the same time. "I've grown attached to my name, known it as long as I can remember" I said. But they insisted, No real option when thats the only source of income coming in. With that John Lycroft was dead, all traces of him slowly disappeared, no more mementos of his past, no son to Laura and Micheal Lycroft, now, only Bishop remains. with no way back. “Ilea Acta Est”, The die is cast. Caesar said that when crossed the Rubicon, Never felt more like that since I burned that bridge.
Narrative Significant Qualities
Positive
Agile Defender I’d rather dodge than get iced if I’m honest. Razor Boy (DV Cyberware) Cyberware allows me to unlock physical potential that was not going happen otherwise. Ronin (Dodge/Cyberware) We’re shadowrunners not psychotic murders. Act like it.
Negative
Addiction Mild (Kamikaze) It makes me feel like I can fly, course I can’t and I never admired the shit heads who try and have to get scrapped off the sidewalk Distinctive Style- Customised Alphaware and a Vashon Island Sleeping Tiger suit go a long way in way in creating a memorial appearance Prejudice Common Biase (Corporate Wageslave) When Corps shout “Jump” you should have your gun drawn, not say “How High” Prejudice Specific (Eighty Eight Triads) They are responsible for the deaths of my parents, Fuck the Triads.
Run History
No runs yet. This list will auto-populate when this character is tagged in a run AAR.
Affiliations
Contacts
| Contact | Connection | Loyalty | Archetype | Profession | Aspects | Chips |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Jinx | 5 | 2 | Fixer(G,N,K,A) | Fixer | Illegal Dealings, The Rarer The Better, Look Good & Strong, Latest And Greatest, Soar Ever Higher, High Fashion | Even |
Organizations
Allies
Enemies
In Character Information
Symbols and Signatures
Matrix Search Table
| Threshold | Result |
|---|---|
| 1 | a couple of pseudo academic articles regarding classical history |
| 3 | a shit load of anti triad posts. |
| 6 | Physical description matching Bishop attached to the murder of Micheal and Laura Lycroft |
Shadow Community Table
| Threshold | Result |
|---|---|
| 1 | |
| 3 | |
| 5 |
SINs
Marcus Rake UCAS
Appearance
Blonde hair shaved at the sides and tied into a tight bun. Stands at 6,1.
Clothing
Bright White Vashon Island Sleeping Tiger Suit and a red dress shirt.
Matrix Persona
A Roman Centurion