Didgeridont

B!tchfest: a healthy release for our non-roleplay annoyances.

<Snipped quote by Revolutionary>

Except this time, the victor is a reality TV star rather than someone actually qualified to hold office - among being a climate change denier, rapist and pedophile who filed for bankruptcy six times, advocates for torture and plans to break so many human rights... (And already has.)

I think this time the alarm and sorrow is more than just hyperbole. Don't you think?

@Tulpa

>qualified to hold office
This is a fallacious argument. Just because someone isn't already part of the established political sphere doesn't mean they will be inept when it comes to presidency. We could extend this logic by saying that anyone who hasn't been president is unqualified to be president, but where would that lead us? The presidency is very much a position where you learn on the job, so saying that someone is unqualified because they don't meet arbitrary criteria is erroneous.

>climate change denier
Is this a bad thing? Regardless, it is clear that (whether he truly believes it's fake or not) he is using this position to further his other proposals. Proposals like increased coal usage, which he supports primarily to try and spur economic recovery in the Rust Belt. Other than that, I doubt he will dump nuclear goop into the oceans like the bombastic Captain Planet villain everyone makes him out to be. It's also evident that he supports actions to increase water filtration, such as desalination investments and the like, so he can't be all that bad to you greenie goons.

>rapist
Are we talking about Bill Clinton or Donald Trump here? Regardless of the choice words or accusations/perpetration of sexual assault (grabbin 'em), I fail to see how this would have an impact on his policies and ability to be a sound president. LBJ was a rowdy fellow, but he is still in the good graces of many Americans.

>pedophile
Okay, are we talking about Joe Biden now?! I fail to see any accusations of pedophilia against Trump that turned out to be true. Once again, scare tactics. I would be more concerned with the shady messages passed around via the Clinton emails that actually might have revealed a child trafficking ring. (See: Comet Ping Pong)

>filed for bankruptcy six times
He filed for Chapter 11 restructuring of businesses on four, not six, of his many business ventures. This allowed him to reorganize finances in order to stop his ventures from completely going under. Many businesses do this, it's not an anomaly.

>advocates for torture and plans to break so many human rights
My god, how dare he treat criminals and terrorists with the same amount of viciousness they treat our country. You know who else "violated human rights"? Duterte. You know who is winning a drug war via these violations? Duterte.

>I think this time the alarm and sorrow is more than just hyperbole. Don't you think?
Nope. I think we are entering a bold new chapter of America's history. We might finally be able to negotiate alliances with countries such as Russia while also being able to protect the values that made this country great: borders, language, culture.

Your Political Ideology: Redux

Kameraden. There's definitely some issues regarding the methodology and the linking of questions to political ideals. Some questions can find a variety of different political lenses in agreement with each other (see: nationalist and environmentalist regarding multinational corporations and their exploitation of land). The test is imperfect, but it's popular enough that most people don't want to find a substitute.

Political Standing of the RoleplayGuild.

Chase the Night

Phantasm

The chime of the MagLev permeated the station. Various civilians filed into the sleek, protective shell of the train, given solace from the rain and lightning above, while the group made their way into their personal car, each of them choosing a place to sit. Phantasm sat alone, not really willing to make any conversation, at least for the moment. She placed her bags on the seat next to her, relieved of the weight that had been lifted. She sat near the window, looking out at the world beyond.

The train slowly accelerated away from the station, and it wasn’t long before the entire city was out of sight. Phantasm looked around at her coworkers, most of whom were taking this time to relax. She doubted that this lull of silence would be available for long, yet she knew she should take advantage of it while it lasted. Breaking free from the stupor caused by the stillness of the train’s movement, Phantasm made her way towards the civilian cars. The only items on the seat she previously occupied now being her rifle and backpack.

It won’t be long, just going to see what’s up, she told herself. She doubted any of them cared about whether or not she left the car.

The civilian cars were strangely quiet. Very few people were talking, most of them being too preoccupied with their own lives; none bothered to break their attention from their screens, earpieces, or ocular implants to notice the pale woman who wandered down the aisle. She looked upon the stoic and banal faces of the passengers, most of which were drowning in the mundanity of daily life. She pitied them, but also admired them. If she hadn’t been so capricious with her choice of occupation, it could be entirely possible that she could have been just another one of these faces, living a relatively safe, boring, normal life.

Alas, however, such was not the case.

---

The counter was pristine and polished, the stools neat and clean. There were few people at the counter, which Phantasm thought was even better. She sat down on a stool and ordered some sparkling water and tiramisu. Dreadfully overpriced, but this didn’t concern her now. Phantasm figured it was proper to take advantage of the amount of money she was making from this job.

The man behind the counter quickly prepared her order and went on to the next customer. He payed little attention to any of the patrons, an act which they reciprocated. It was a mutual agreement of apathy that seemed all too common in this world. However, it wasn’t any of Phantasm’s business to dwell on such topics, seeing as how she, too, benefited from such machinations.

The tiramisu was rather unremarkable; the sparkling water even more so. Perhaps it was a waste of money, but now wasn’t the time to fret about the quality of some cake and water. She finished what she had ordered, unwilling to let her money go without at least getting some value out of what she payed for. However, as she finished, it seemed that something had gone awry.

The unmistakable noise of engines came from the direction of the group’s car. Phantasm sighed deeply, putting her face in her hands, cursing to herself.

Ugh, why now?

She patted the areas of her body where her current weapons were, as a formality to make sure she didn’t misplace any of them. Sure, she didn’t have her rifle, but that wasn’t that large of a hindrance, considering the confined nature of the train.

As if it was on cue, a crowd of people rushed into the car she was in, desperate to escape the confrontation that had just begun in their adjacent car. She pushed through the influx of individuals, each one seemingly more desperate that the last, finally reaching the civi car adjacent to the one where the thugs had boarded. She glanced around at the surroundings, the vacated seats still filled with personal belongings. Yet someone remained, keeping an intense vigil on the door, preoccupied with the conflict going on in the next car. The guy looked suited up, clearly some vulture looking to take advantage of the situation. Phantasm ducked behind cover as she planned her next move.

She unbuttoned her coat, revealing the PPS Mk. 3 that was holstered on the side of her torso. She took out the gun, making sure it was at full capacity in the process. She glanced back at the fighting, noticing how it was goon vs. goon, although it seemed as if the melee was rather one-sided. The prevailing bozo was able to continue into the direct elimination round, going on to start cutting up some other guy in the process.

Throughout this scuffle, Phantasm used the brief periods of chaos to move further forward. Surprisingly, it seemed as if she went relatively unnoticed, as the assailants had to deal with an increasing number of people while their numbers thinned. Phantasm held her gun close to her, ready to use at any time. She kept remarkably calm during the ordeal, regulating her breathing as she crept up from one piece of cover to the next, managing to avoid any gunfire.

She passed both the enforcer with a missing brain and the one with a missing hand without thought regarding either of them. As far as she was concerned, they required none of her attention.

She had almost closed the gap between her and the bozo, making sure to keep out of sight of him in the process. She held her weapon tighter, her finger parallel to the trigger guard. There was the goon, hiding behind cover just a few short feet away.

“Hey, doink, where d’you think you’re going?”

Chase the Night

等一下

I'm kinda busy right now but I have a post in the works.

Procrastination and real life are a killer combo when it comes to preventing me from writing up posts.

Chase the Night

Phantasm

Approximately two months prior to Strasbourg

Phantasm stood alone, the rain peppering the ground around her.

Phantasm leaned against a wall, under the protective awning of a computer cafe in Chengdu, China. The air was thick with deep, gray smog. The few people that did pass by her each wore their own air filtration system, lest they risk an early death at the hands of the clouds of chemicals that permeated the city. Phantasm, too, wore, what the locals called, an 空气口. It was an older model, built by a local firm, but it was good enough quality to properly filter an impurities. Sure, it had limited usage, but she didn’t plan on staying in the city that long, anyways. The place was a dump and, like most of China, was built on industry and little else. Anyone who had any money moved out, which left the city a cesspool of penury and decay, with the remaining residents consisting mainly of junkies, peons, and hobos. It’s probably no secret that people turn to drugs to escape the monotony or plight of living here. But hey, Phantasm didn’t really care about the various socio-economic factors which brought her business, she just cared that it brought her business.

>time

The neural processor recorded the thought of “time” that just passed through her mind. This was no ordinary thought, however. This brief spark of the synapses within her brain were special; they were specifically directed towards the 3800 that sat snugly on her occipital bone. Within milliseconds, the processor had been able to read the message directed to it and convey another message to her OEA to display the time for her to see. Although, note that none of this particularly concerned Phantasm, whose interest with the methodology of her various implants generally only lasted as long as the salesperson’s overview of his product.

It was 7:53:12 P.M.

Phantasm was waiting on a nondescript client, a woman, from what she judged. She wanted to meet at this location, not asking for any specific drug or any certain quantity. A very mysterious woman, though she probably had some very non-mysterious money with her, so Phantasm made sure not to think too much about it. They were to meet under the awning of the computer cafe, at 8:00 P.M., Chengdu, China; Phantasm brought a relatively new drug, Angelfyre, to sell to the woman. The stuff was getting popular with the younger crowd, gave the user a rush at first and then sent the person into a daze, so they say. Fun at parties, no doubt.

A sudden buzz broke her train of though. Phantasm reached into her pocket and whipped out her cell phone, looking at the caller. Valentin Siderovich, older guy, affiliated with the Свобода gang, a group of “Neo-Anarchists” who owned a lot of nightclubs all around Eurasia. Phantasm tapped the command to link with her neural processor and stowed the phone away.

“Hey, whatz up?” he asked, her ear implant transmitted the mans abnormally thick accent with crystal clear quality “Your deal went through or no?”

Not yet, Val, it’s at 20:00, my time, Phantasm told her neuralware to reply via text.

“Aw come on Phanta, why you don’t pick up the phone and talk to me,”

I told you I have business, can’t talk

“Alright, alright, listen, though, I have something for you. It’s a file, from anonymous contact, just for you, they said. I’m sending it now. It’z safe, don’t worry, scanned it already” he said. Phantasm was now interested. She glanced back at her phone and swiped the file to transmit it directly to her 3800. Her neuralware scanned the file, transmitting its information directly into her brain. A contract, bearing, at its head, the logo of Kybuashi Enterprises. “It’s password blocked. I could have cracked it but I’m too lazy for that shit,” Val finished with a laugh.

Val, this isn’t pass-protected

“Was when I got it,” he muttered, “heh, spooky stuff, I guess.”

Spooky stuff indeed, mused Phantasm as she perused the contents of the file. A contract detailing a pretty heavy job: multiple people guarding a very important, top secret prototype. Most importantly, though: big payout.

>time

7:59:47

She ended her call with Val just as she noticed the lone figure walking up the road. The figure introduced herself as a representative from Kybuashi Enterprises.

“I assume you already viewed the document I sent. Come inside.” The woman said, her voice partially muffled by her filtration mask. The two women entered the internet cafe, which was surprisingly empty for this time of day. The small, plump man who sat behind the counter directed them to a room upstairs. The room was barely furnished, the two chairs within it angled towards the meager view of the street outside that was provided to them by a rather dirty glass screen.

The two took off their filtration mask and sat down as the man hurried to exit the room. Phantasm scanned the buildings across the street, making a mental note of the second story apartment whose residents “happened” to be out of town for the week. The representative smiled as she noticed this.

“Right, let’s make this quick. Unfortunately, you will not have the opportunity to sell me any narcotics. Fortunately, however, I have proposed an offer that will, hopefully, reimburse you for your lost time,” the woman joked. Phantasm stared at her. “Right, since you already read the contract, I’ll just let you sign now, unless you have any questions . . .”

“Why me?” Phantasm asked, picking up the pen and signing the contract.

“That is . . . confidential, but I’m sure you can deduce why when you meet your coworkers,” the woman replied, gathering the papers and pen. The representative made to leave, but Phantasm still had a question.

“Why did you contact me like this,” Phantasm asked, facing towards the street, the woman already at the door at the opposite side of the room.

“Because we knew you would accept our offer,” the woman replied frankly.

---

Phantasm stood alone, the rain peppering the ground around her.

Crash’s words brought Phantasm out of the stupor of boredom. Ten minutes. 600 seconds. It wasn’t long, but the waiting made it feel like an eternity. That was coupled with the natural reluctance of conversation within the group.

Phantasm had barely noticed the rain, only now did she pull out her umbrella from one of her many coat pockets. Today’s attire was a gray coat with bulletproof lining, gray pants, and gray sneakers. Boring, but she didn’t care. This wasn’t wetworks yet, so Phantasm didn’t have to worry too much about what clothes she wore.

One of the hired goons decided to buy them all drinks. A nice gesture, without a doubt, but one that she felt was relatively fruitless, considering how most of these grade-A doinks cared little about the physical, let alone emotional, well-being of one another. Nevertheless, Phantasm appreciated the act. Unfortunately, Phantasm didn’t drink; drinking slowed her down, got in the way. She never took any of her own wares, nor did she indulge in many other vices, for that matter. Waste of time, waste of money, waste of life. Except for sugar. Sugar gave a tangible feeling of elation for a fraction of the cost of many other substances. Sure, she couldn’t eat too much, but moderation was her specialty, temperance her art.

Essentially disregarding the man’s toast, she stowed the can into her backpack, ultimately placing the backpack on the ground beneath her, directly next to the gun bag that stored her rifle. Luckily, in this day and age, no one really batted an eye at a group of armed thugs. I mean, they probably did, but no one had the balls or the jurisdiction to try and walk up and confront a group of would-be corporation thugs, politely asking them to hand over their weapons. If there were people like that, they’re probably dead now.

One of the girls mentioned something about the abnormal amount of people that were hired, talking about how most of them might die. While that was a possibility, half of these dorks probably thought of the fact as a probability. Phantasm made sure to comment on the matter, in hopes that these bozos might look on the bright side of life . . . like the guy who passed out the beer. A quirky character, one whose accent had changed since the first time she met him, but otherwise fine.

“I doubt this is a suicide mission. Kybuashi’s counting on this thing to make it home safe and sound. It makes sense that they would hire some extra insurance. Besides, if they had meant us to be fodder, they would have gone and got some enforcers. They’re planning for something else, count on it,” Phantasm said, her voice taking on an almost didactic tone. It wouldn’t help any of them if they only thought about the various gruesome ways they all might eventually meet their fate, so it was in her best interests to try and dissuade such thoughts.

Her phone buzzed, it was Val.

As much as she could have used his company, she pressed the X and stowed it back in her pocket, waiting until something could finally happen. She was tired of waiting.

Chase the Night

Phantasm

23 | 2043 - 4 - 19 | 5’ 9”

Appearance -

Phantasm is a woman who works to earn her title. Those who can mark her out from a crowd often describe her as a mere blur, just another figure in the mass of people. She maintains her chameleon-esque reputation by carefully regulating her appearance. Her wardrobe and countenance are selected based on their ability to conceal her within the dark and dingy streets of the city. Her clothing is a reflection of what the average Joe chooses to wear, which, based on the squalor in which many residents live in, often consists of off-brand or second hand jackets, pants, and sneakers.

Her complexion and demeanor is built so as to inspire the least amount of suspicion and generally make her a forgettable individual. Her head is covered in straight, black hair that extends only to her lower neck. Her pale skin and dark eyes betray her Asian ancestry, but nothing else. She has essentially mastered the look of monotone boredom, as she rarely shows much emotion along that pristine visage of hers, which she often covers with a hood or cap.

However, Phantasm must not only look the part, she must act the part. She mimics the crowd she follows, taking care not to stray too far from the herd when walking from place to place. Her eyes face down at an angle, careful not to make unnecessary eye contact. Her slim figure moves with a grace and flow that has been perfected so as to not attract attention. This leaves no room for any idiosyncrasies or holes in her presentation, making her just like any other average, early 20's adult living in the penury of the current world. In essence, Phantasm is a woman that has perfected the craft of being invisible in plain sight.

Personality -

Phantasm’s main concern is her business. As a result, she must become both the CEO and PR Agent of her drug-running operation. In doing so, she must tread a fine line between her own interests and the interests of her customers. If she acts with haste or greed, she risks burning the bridges she spent time toiling to build, yet she also risks losing profit if she allows her customers to take advantage of her more benevolent aspects. In a sense, she must modify her behavior based on the person she is dealing with, always taking her profits into consideration, but never so much as to act with impudence or rancor.

Yet, after goods are exchanged, Phantasm's true personality finds a way to expose itself. Although having the propensity to seem cold or distant when in the public eye, at her core she is a more raucous and argumentative individual, always looking for a bargain or an advantage. Her suppliers often remember her for the deals she tries to pull on them, always driving a hard bargain and expecting top quality goods. Prone to spurts of calculated rage, Phantasm often lashes out when things don't go her way, and can sometimes turn to manipulation in order to secure something she wants, making her a rather passionate individual who does what she needs to do. Still, she takes care not to create any unwanted enemies with her capricious behavior, often curbing it when it is in her best interests, as much as she has to grind her teeth to do so. Although not intrinsically mean, she has a short temper and a Machiavellian view of the world when it comes to dealing with people, which works to both her advantage and disadvantage.

Biography/background -

Born too late to play the stock market. Born too early to pillage the stars. Born just in time to exploit transients looking for their nightly high.

Ever since she could remember, Phantasm has lived on the streets. It wasn't a tragic tale of a disenfranchised orphan girl who struggled nightly to make it by physically and emotionally, quite the opposite, in fact. The streets raised her better than any parent ever could. Sure, they didn't feed or clothe her, but the streets taught her how to do those things on her own. That isn't to say that it wasn't the most difficult part of her life, yet the streets filled her with a knowledge unparalleled by anything she could have gained in school or in a regular family unit. The streets let her build herself, uninhibited, doing the things she wanted to do.

At first she tried banding together with the other street urchins. It was fine originally, they developed a small community; then it was corrupted. What began as a mutual agreement to look out for each others' best interests and safety soon dissolved into bickering and thievery. Kids faked being sick to gain more food, leading to only a few kids that actually worked, Phantasm among them. This, compounded with the constant pressures of actual gangs and irritated store owners forced her to leave. Phantasm had to make her own fate, not wait for it.

Like many of those now entangled with crime, she first tried earning the typical honest living, working in restaurants, bars, or street stalls; this didn't last long. The hours were long and the pay small; it was soon evident that her life on the streets was arguably more fulfilling than her life behind a counter. She needed something more, something better. Something that didn't drain the very essence of her soul or turn her into a smaller version of one of those lifeless salary-men. It was during one serendipitous morning where she found the very object that would free her from her bondage: a small plastic bag containing about a dozen purple cubes.

Drug running was a new, exciting occupation. It brought her joy, excitement, purpose. Most importantly, it brought her cash. Like most dealers, she started off small, buying and selling minute amounts of amphetamines or prescription drugs. Soon, however, she began to expand her business ventures, building connections with various suppliers, gaining new wares and a whole lotta dosh. Soon, she was gaining more money in one month that she had gained in her entire lifetime, and she loved it. The profits gave her a high on their own, but she wasn't going to get complacent just yet. Like any smart business owner, she invested into the expansion and security of her drug-running program, gaining a few new toys in the process, but also gaining a few contacts in the business as well. However, it wasn't until recently that one of her suppliers approached her regarding a much more lucrative job offer, one that involved getting your hands a bit dirtier than one might like. Phantasm considered this, and, weighing the risks, took this man up on his offer.

And so, Phantasm found her new occupation as a Diver, investing in some newer and better toys in the process.

Weapon(s) -

Combatek Modular Operations Rifle: A rather unremarkable yet shiny new rifle with available scope as well as various firing and zeroing presets. Hasn’t seen much use, yet. Chambered for .308 ammunition, standard magazine capacity is 25 rounds.

Personal Protection Scattergun Mk.III: The PPS Mk.3 is a rather small yet powerful shotgun. Its strength comes from its relative concealability, however this is at a detriment to the weapon’s effective range. Made for 12 Gauge shells, maximum capacity of 4 shells.

Intraguard Electro Chain-whip: The IEC is a pretty gnarly weapon. Its concept is relatively simple: an extendable whip that can snare and shock people, yet its design is intricate and complex. To an observer, the device looks merely like a thick plastic ring with a larger trigger on its inner rim. However, once the user pulls this trigger, two coils of electrically charged metal are jettisoned out of the device using magnetic forces from an apparatus within the device. These coils would then wrap themselves around their target, much in the same way as a slap bracelet would, and deliver a relatively uncomfortable electric shock. Recharging required after continued use.

Pistolet Makarova: When worst comes to worse, a good pistol to rely on is the Makarov. While a bit old and a bit weak, Ivan built these to last, so they’re great as a last resort. Chambered for 9x18mm rounds, 8 round magazine.

Switchblade: Also useful is a nice, small knife, capable of cutting someone or something with relative ease.

Skillset -

Martial Arts Knowledge: Although no master of martial arts, Phantasm has found that the principles of various fighting styles have very useful applications, both inside and outside of confrontations.

Perceptive: Sharp eyes and good ears can make all the difference. Phantasm’s augmentations allow her to pick out the minute details that an average person might gloss over.

Fast Hands: Years of working her craft has made Phantasm adept with the use of her hands, giving her the ability to whip out objects like her gun or phone in less than a second.

Problem Solver: She strikes a hard bargain, and knows how to get out of a sticky situation

Augmentations -

Vizor™ CleerSkye© Optical Enhancement Apparatus: A thin screen implanted within the conjunctiva of the eye, allowing for multiple forms of visual sensory manipulation. Wired to her neuralware, the CleerSkye© is able to project information directly to the wearer, such as blood pressure, heart rate, and warn about the presence of harmful microbes. It is also wired to show location, time, and date, among other things. The CleerSkye© is also adept at modifying the user’s vision, allowing the user to enhance images, scan for objects, or see with infrared or night vision.

BodyBorg™ Olfactory System Modifier: The OSM gives the user the ability to sense finer levels of detail within the smells around them, while also giving the option to remove the sensation of certain scents entirely or partially filter the air they take in.

BodyBorg™ Advanced Auditory Upgrade: The AAU gives the user enhanced auditory reception capabilities, effectively allowing the user to increase their range of hearing by increasing the spectrum of possible auditory reception as well as giving the user the capacity to alter the volume of sounds or focus on one specific source of noise.

Appendage Based Chemical Detection Equipment: ABCDE, for short, is a modular form of hardware that is attached to the tip of any one finger. Once activated, it opens a hole on top of the finger and extends a telescopic tube with a small bulb on the end of it. This bulb, when whisked around in any material, uses electro-magnetism to determine the chemical composition of the substance. In Phantasm’s case, the device is on her left pinkie finger, and is primarily used for testing the purity of various drugs.

HSCT Neural Processor 3800: Essentially a computer wired to her nervous system, this is a powerful piece of technology that Phantasm doesn’t like taking full advantage of. It gives her the ability to more easily control the rest of her augmentations as well as process and calculate information much more efficiently than she would alone, however it also gives the user the capability of editing various aspects of the body, such as shutting down pain receptors. Needless to say, she rarely uses the device to its full capacity, in an effort to preserve her humanity.

Chase the Night

Phantasm

Phantasm

23 | 2043 - 4 - 19 | 5’ 9”

Appearance -

Phantasm is a woman who works to earn her title. Those who can mark her out from a crowd often describe her as a mere blur, just another figure in the mass of people. She maintains her chameleon-esque reputation by carefully regulating her appearance. Her wardrobe and countenance are selected based on their ability to conceal her within the dark and dingy streets of the city. Her clothing is a reflection of what the average Joe chooses to wear, which, based on the squalor in which many residents live in, often consists of off-brand or second hand jackets, pants, and sneakers.

Her complexion and demeanor is built so as to inspire the least amount of suspicion and generally make her a forgettable individual. Her head is covered in straight, black hair that extends only to her lower neck. Her pale skin and dark eyes betray her Asian ancestry, but nothing else. She has essentially mastered the look of monotone boredom, as she rarely shows much emotion along that pristine visage of hers, which she often covers with a hood or cap.

However, Phantasm must not only look the part, she must act the part. She mimics the crowd she follows, taking care not to stray too far from the herd when walking from place to place. Her eyes face down at an angle, careful not to make unnecessary eye contact. Her slim figure moves with a grace and flow that has been perfected so as to not attract attention. This leaves no room for any idiosyncrasies or holes in her presentation, making her just like any other average, early 20's adult living in the penury of the current world. In essence, Phantasm is a woman that has perfected the craft of being invisible in plain sight.

Personality -

Phantasm’s main concern is her business. As a result, she must become both the CEO and PR Agent of her drug-running operation. In doing so, she must tread a fine line between her own interests and the interests of her customers. If she acts with haste or greed, she risks burning the bridges she spent time toiling to build, yet she also risks losing profit if she allows her customers to take advantage of her more benevolent aspects. In a sense, she must modify her behavior based on the person she is dealing with, always taking her profits into consideration, but never so much as to act with impudence or rancor.

Yet, after goods are exchanged, Phantasm's true personality finds a way to expose itself. Although having the propensity to seem cold or distant when in the public eye, at her core she is a more raucous and argumentative individual, always looking for a bargain or an advantage. Her suppliers often remember her for the deals she tries to pull on them, always driving a hard bargain and expecting top quality goods. Prone to spurts of calculated rage, Phantasm often lashes out when things don't go her way, and can sometimes turn to manipulation in order to secure something she wants, making her a rather passionate individual who does what she needs to do. Still, she takes care not to create any unwanted enemies with her capricious behavior, often curbing it when it is in her best interests, as much as she has to grind her teeth to do so. Although not intrinsically mean, she has a short temper and a Machiavellian view of the world when it comes to dealing with people, which works to both her advantage and disadvantage.

Biography/background -

Born too late to play the stock market. Born too early to pillage the stars. Born just in time to exploit transients looking for their nightly high.

Ever since she could remember, Phantasm has lived on the streets. It wasn't a tragic tale of a disenfranchised orphan girl who struggled nightly to make it by physically and emotionally, quite the opposite, in fact. The streets raised her better than any parent ever could. Sure, they didn't feed or clothe her, but the streets taught her how to do those things on her own. That isn't to say that it wasn't the most difficult part of her life, yet the streets filled her with a knowledge unparalleled by anything she could have gained in school or in a regular family unit. The streets let her build herself, uninhibited, doing the things she wanted to do.

At first she tried banding together with the other street urchins. It was fine originally, they developed a small community; then it was corrupted. What began as a mutual agreement to look out for each others' best interests and safety soon dissolved into bickering and thievery. Kids faked being sick to gain more food, leading to only a few kids that actually worked, Phantasm among them. This, compounded with the constant pressures of actual gangs and irritated store owners forced her to leave. Phantasm had to make her own fate, not wait for it.

Like many of those now entangled with crime, she first tried earning the typical honest living, working in restaurants, bars, or street stalls; this didn't last long. The hours were long and the pay small; it was soon evident that her life on the streets was arguably more fulfilling than her life behind a counter. She needed something more, something better. Something that didn't drain the very essence of her soul or turn her into a smaller version of one of those lifeless salary-men. It was during one serendipitous morning where she found the very object that would free her from her bondage: a small plastic bag containing about a dozen purple cubes.

Drug running was a new and thrilling occupation. It brought her joy, excitement, purpose. Most importantly, it brought her cash. Like most dealers, she started off small, buying and selling minute amounts of amphetamines or prescription drugs. Soon, however, she began to expand her business ventures, building connections with various suppliers, gaining new wares and a whole lotta dosh. Soon, she was gaining more money in one month that she had gained in her entire lifetime, and she loved it. The profits gave her a high on their own, but she wasn't going to get complacent just yet. Like any smart business owner, she invested into the expansion and security of her drug-running program, gaining a few new toys in the process, but also gaining a few contacts in the business as well. However, it wasn't until recently that one of her suppliers approached her regarding a much more lucrative job offer, one that involved getting your hands a bit dirtier than one might like. Phantasm considered this, and, weighing the risks, took this man up on his offer.

And so, Phantasm found her new occupation as a Diver, investing in some newer and better toys in the process.

Weapon(s) -

Combatek Modular Operations Rifle: A rather unremarkable yet shiny new rifle with available scope as well as various firing and zeroing presets. Hasn’t seen much use, yet. Chambered for .308 ammunition, standard magazine capacity is 25 rounds.

Personal Protection Scattergun Mk.III: The PPS Mk.3 is a rather small yet powerful shotgun. Its strength comes from its relative concealability, however this is at a detriment to the weapon’s effective range. Made for 12 Gauge shells, maximum capacity of 4 shells.

Intraguard Electro Chain-whip: The IEC is a pretty gnarly weapon. Its concept is relatively simple: an extendable whip that can snare and shock people, yet its design is intricate and complex. To an observer, the device looks merely like a thick plastic ring with a larger trigger on its inner rim. However, once the user pulls this trigger, two coils of electrically charged metal are jettisoned out of the device using magnetic forces from an apparatus within the device. These coils would then wrap themselves around their target, much in the same way as a slap bracelet would, and deliver a relatively uncomfortable electric shock. Recharging required after continued use.

Pistolet Makarova: When worst comes to worse, a good pistol to rely on is the Makarov. While a bit old and a bit weak, Ivan built these to last, so they’re great as a last resort. Chambered for 9x18mm rounds, 8 round magazine.

Switchblade: Also useful is a nice, small knife, capable of cutting someone or something with relative ease.

Skillset -

Martial Arts Knowledge: Although no master of martial arts, Phantasm has found that the principles of various fighting styles have very useful applications, both inside and outside of confrontations.

Perceptive: Sharp eyes and good ears can make all the difference. Phantasm’s augmentations allow her to pick out the minute details that an average person might gloss over.

Fast Hands: Years of working her craft has made Phantasm adept with the use of her hands, giving her the ability to whip out objects like her gun or phone in less than a second.

Problem Solver: She strikes a hard bargain, and knows how to get out of a sticky situation

Augmentations -

Vizor™ CleerSkye© Optical Enhancement Apparatus: A thin screen implanted within the conjunctiva of the eye, allowing for multiple forms of visual sensory manipulation. Wired to her neuralware, the CleerSkye© is able to project information directly to the wearer, such as blood pressure, heart rate, and warn about the presence of harmful microbes. It is also wired to show location, time, and date, among other things. The CleerSkye© is also adept at modifying the user’s vision, allowing the user to enhance images, scan for objects, or see with infrared or night vision.

BodyBorg™ Olfactory System Modifier: The OSM gives the user the ability to sense finer levels of detail within the smells around them, while also giving the option to remove the sensation of certain scents entirely or partially filter the air they take in.

BodyBorg™ Advanced Auditory Upgrade: The AAU gives the user enhanced auditory reception capabilities, effectively allowing the user to increase their range of hearing by increasing the spectrum of possible auditory reception as well as giving the user the capacity to alter the volume of sounds or focus on one specific source of noise.

Appendage Based Chemical Detection Equipment: ABCDE, for short, is a modular form of hardware that is attached to the tip of any one finger. Once activated, it opens a hole on top of the finger and extends a telescopic tube with a small bulb on the end of it. This bulb, when whisked around in any material, uses electro-magnetism to determine the chemical composition of the substance. In Phantasm’s case, the device is on her left pinkie finger, and is primarily used for testing the purity of various drugs.

HSCT Neural Processor 3800: Essentially a computer wired to her nervous system, this is a powerful piece of technology that Phantasm doesn’t like taking full advantage of. It gives her the ability to more easily control the rest of her augmentations as well as process and calculate information much more efficiently than she would alone, however it also gives the user the capability of editing various aspects of the body, such as shutting down pain receptors. Needless to say, she rarely uses the device to its full capacity, in an effort to preserve her humanity.

Here's my character.