Sniblet

"writing sample"

I write less than Stephen King says writers should, but I do write a lot
I did this one in kind of a fever today and I'm pretty proud of it, I wouldn't say it stands for most of my work though because this isn't my style and it plays with themes I've hardly ever touched
Hence the quotation marks
Enjoy?

---

One day, Little Miss Priscilla heard from her mom and dad that she was very, very sick. She wasn’t coughing and she wasn’t throwing up, but there were other ways to be sick. They said it was in her heart. Mom cried a lot.
They said they would try everything, and they took her everywhere. Everywhere except the village doctor. “Hello! My heart isn’t okay. Can you help me? Do you know anyone who can?”
One day, on her way to see a new doctor with mom, Little Miss Priscilla couldn’t walk anymore. She fell down and couldn’t catch herself, and couldn’t get up again. She felt tired. She didn’t know what happened for a while after that.
But she woke up, and she saw the village doctor’s wife. She was in bed, and the doctor’s wife was smiling at her. The priests all said she was a witch, but she looked okay. Little Miss Priscilla felt okay. She realized that she’d felt bad before, but she didn’t now.
The doctor’s wife said the doctor wasn’t here, but she had lots of the medicine that made Little Miss Priscilla feel okay again. It was red and thick and tasted like warm. She liked the medicine a lot. She got a little more, and then the doctor’s wife asked her mom and dad for a lot of money and let her go.
Little Miss Priscilla skipped the whole way home.
That night, she couldn’t sleep. She wasn’t tired. Mom couldn’t sleep either, because she was still worried. They talked a long time, and mom said her voice was strong again and cried a little more.
Mom went to sleep. Little Miss Priscilla tried hard, and then she did too. She dreamed of…
red.
Every night she stayed awake too late and dreamed of red.
Little Miss Priscilla wasn’t sick anymore, but now her favorite color was red.
*

One night, Little Miss Priscilla remembered the medicine. It had been red and thick and it tasted like warm.
Red,
And thick,
And tasted like warm.
She wanted…
Little Miss Priscilla wanted the medicine again. So she snuck out of bed and left her home and found the village doctor’s house. The moon was bright and white. She knocked on the door. Her mouth was watering and she felt kind of dizzy.
The doctor’s wife said the doctor wasn’t here, but she smiled and said of course she could give Little Miss Priscilla more medicine. She poured a cupful, and Little Miss Priscilla watched closely, and her heart felt strong just watching. Her mouth was watering so much.
“Do you know where we get this medicine from?” the doctor’s wife asked.
“No. Where do you get it?” Little Miss Priscilla wanted to know.
“There’s a lady in the castle who makes it. Take your medicine. I’ll tell you her name.”
She took the cup, and her hands were shaking a little, and she drank it really fast. The doctor’s wife walked past her and whispered a name that sounded like roses. She couldn’t hear it. Everything felt like red and she wasn’t thinking.
Little Miss Priscilla skipped the whole way home.
She couldn’t sleep. Her heart felt so strong. So red. She got up again and walked all around the house. Everything felt so together, but… still… she wanted…
Little Miss Priscilla never slept that night. But the next, she dreamed of…
roses.
Little Miss Priscilla had had her medicine again, and now her favorite flower was roses.
*

One night, Little Miss Priscilla remembered the name. It had been soft and wonderful and it sounded like roses. She wished she had heard it clearly. She wanted to say it. She wanted to know who it was that made her red.
Her medicine. Made her medicine. Little Miss Priscilla wasn’t red.
She wanted to paint. She wanted to paint with red paint. She wanted to make something red so she could see it.
So Little Miss Priscilla went to her mom and dad and said she wanted to paint. They said, okay. They said, anything for their lovely growing daughter. She just wanted the paint.
The next day, she took the canvas, and she took the paints. She put away all the ones that weren’t red. She painted a red rose, and then another one. She painted in red and her heart started feeling strong again. Her hands wanted to shake, but they couldn’t. They had to paint. She could barely tell what she was making until it was done.
A lady, outlined in red, dressed in a dress made of red roses. Her skin was the white of the canvas, her hair was the darkest red. Her eyes and her lips were the strongest red she’d ever seen, and she watched Little Miss Priscilla.
Her fingernails hurt a little. So did her wrist. She looked. She thought, “that must be the paint I used for the eyes and the lips.”
She looked at the painting.
She looked at the painting.
She looked at the painting.
The sun rose outside and she looked at the painting.
Her mom asked what she was doing. She asked what she’d made.
“The Lady in Roses,” said Little Miss Priscilla.
Her mom said it was pretty. Beautiful. She asked if Little Miss Priscilla had slept.
“She is beautiful,” said Little Miss Priscilla.
She kept the painting. She looked at the painting every night. Her heart felt strong every time she looked. The Lady in Roses was the one who made her red.
The next time she slept, she dreamed of…
the Lady.
Little Miss Priscilla knew what the Lady looked like now, and she was her favorite person.
*

One night, Miss Priscilla couldn’t stop looking at the Lady. The paints were all dry. Her face never moved. Her eyes were so intense, but they weren’t real.
The painting was so perfect that it made her heart writhe. But it was just a painting of the real Lady in Roses. She rose from her bed and her heart was still squirming. The image of the Lady was branded in her eyes and her head. She wanted…
She wanted to see the Lady. To touch her roses. To taste her red from the source. The want was physical. It made her dizzy like she hadn’t been since her heart was sick. The Lady in Roses was in the castle: that’s what the doctor’s wife had said. People went to the castle sometimes. Sometimes they came back. No one who lived there ever came out.
But Miss Priscilla wanted to meet the Lady. She wanted to hear the Lady’s voice and her real name. She wanted to know the Lady’s scent.
She could barely breathe. She felt weak like she hadn’t been since her heart was sick. But her heart was strong. She had to go now.
Miss Priscilla skipped the whole way to the castle.

Fey's Shoujo/Otome Trash Can -- A few ideas for 1x1 or Small Group Fantasy Romance RPs

If To Become a Knight gets played, I will be gravely disappointed if less than the entire main cast is actually female

I need a helper with this image.

necropost

I recommend paint.net, donation-funded (ad-free and also just free) downloadable software that does all the neat stuff Adobe and our other corporate art overlords don't want competitor software to be able to offer
It's got a magic wand tool you can use to select the whole blank background and delete it, so you can manually do what remove.bg entrusts to a dumb stupid blind AI, without having to sacrifice your image's resolution

It's more trouble than it sounds, even with flat-color backgrounds, but if you spend about 30 minutes on an image it comes out cleaner than you'd get if removebg botched it and you had to clean up

2086 - A Cyberpunk RP

Wait, how do players talk to one another under these rules? I can imagine how we'd work around no one-liners, but two other posts between each message... how do we run interplayer dialogue? Do we?
@Hyyde322 relatedly, I can't do a post yet, it's been a bit since you said anything so you get to initiate.

2086 - A Cyberpunk RP

Speaking of finding other players, @Hyyde322, you live close enough to have heard the Plot Murder (I assume) so Mira's in your area right now. I'm open to anything you want to contrive.
Maybe you're a viewer :), maybe she makes too much noise on your rooftop after she leaves the scene, maybe you see a weirdo walking around inside the yellow tape?

2086 - A Cyberpunk RP

Murder is interesting! There's surely no way Mira learns anything useful, I'm kind of just putting her there because it's the big plot hotspot. If she hits enough of those she might find another player. Or get killed by one. Or hit 100,000 subscribers.
Wherever things go.

2086 - A Cyberpunk RP

Mira

(learning to format by example - if it looks like I'm confused about how to do this, that's because I am!)

Is there something going on in Nova City?

Mira is enjoying, or suffering, one of those extended periods of idleness that being on call for Milicor sometimes offers her. When it rains, it pours, but this is shaping up to be a week off. Not from her other job - audience retention is an insatiable demand - but it's as close as she gets. And yet - and yet... is this just boredom? Is it unease? The stream is just half an hour out. What's biting her?
She stands atop the tallest building she knows how to scale in the Harwood district, an empty establishment that might've once been government property - a library, maybe, but no longer recognizable, its insides gutted by the locals, the rest never demolished after all these years. A bat's nest.
_{"User alert."}
"Yes, Faraday?"
_{"Affirmative."
"User alert."}
"Yes- what is the alert?"
_{"Reminder: high volumes of emergency sirens are a reliable sign of potential danger."}
...is that it?
She tunes in to the background noise of police sirens. Her home in Sendero was typically pretty quiet - beyond it, she's always understood that there's supposed to be crime around every corner. She has heard them pretty much continuously since she got here tonight. Is that normal? She can't remember - she's been through this district a few times before, but she can't remember what it's supposed to sound like.
She takes her sniper scope out of her jacket pocket. The rifle is packed away elsewhere, but she never leaves home without the scope.
Lights. There's a cluster of police lights, reflecting off the rain and the rooftops not so far off. She primes her legs to start jumping. This might need a look.

---

A sunny green countryside. Rolling hills interspersed with trees. Grazing animals of an era soon to leave living memory.
From the boughs of the furthest tree, a flare of light. A glint of a scope.
Chat starts the countdown from 60. Scattered all over the world, the bored and lonely grab drinks and snacks and settle in.
"Hey, guys. Got a surpriiise for you todayy."
Mira slowly uncovers her eyes, giving everyone a live feed of the alley's cement.
"First you gotta guess what it is. Two hints: I don't have my rifle, and I'm keeping all my clothes on. Go."
10,000 viewers sitting behind her eyes set to their usual work being stupid, wrong, creepy, and occasionally perceptive. Foodstream? Urban exploration? Is she taking her clothes off? And that emote they haven't stopped using since she added it - her own viewer count in her rifle's crosshairs.
"Come on, you guys can do it. This one's really, really easy. You always jump at the most ridiculous ideas. Think of something crazy."
A murder scene.
"Murder's right!"
She looks up and at the scene she's been smelling up close for the past minute and a half. She just missed the last of the investigation as they trucked the body away - nothing left but white tape, yellow tape, and a slow red current headed downhill.
"Faraday and I are right on the heels of the cops, investigating what looks like a dead hooker. Didn't get a look at her face, but we had a glimpse of the rest of her - does anybody know a hot blonde? If you do, sorry, she's probably dead."
O_O that's a lot of blood! Was this your work? Who did it? Where is this? Are you blonde? Oh no my gf is hot
"Wasn't me, and I'm not telling where we are just yet. We're gonna play detective together. Now, I don't know anything about blood spatters - I just make them for a living - but doesn't this look extra violent to you all? Not a shooting, right?"
So it goes: another routine murder for the police, another hit of blood money for Pink Dot, another life washing away into the sewers of dystopia.
But is it that simple?
Mira chatters away; the chat froths and babbles like the water. All the while, she swears she's missing something else. The sirens are gone, the streets are clear, but her senses are still on edge. Maybe something beyond sight, sound, smell. She's feeling... something else.
There is something going on in Nova City.

2086 - A Cyberpunk RP

Mira/"Pink Dot"

Her Look

-Image-
I have a few! All are fanart of Yuuhi Riri, a Nijisanji VTuber.

anime

Profile pic

"What- of course it's staged! That's the POINT!"

Street casual

"Double patty or the date's off."

VTuber avatar

"Sorry chat, you really don't want to see me today. How about this cutie, though?"

She spends most of her time in plainclothes, even on a mission, because she tries to be far enough and obscure enough as not to risk being shot. The difference between mission and casual attire is the color: when she’s off the job, she uses the chance to wear bright colors and funny t-shirts. Her favorite is all white and says “obsolete.” on the chest in Roboto font. For certain streams, she’ll wear something low-collar.
The woman herself is about 5’4”, short dyed-pink hair, athletic build and tends to smile whether or not she means it. Her legs look natural unless you catch the proud Milicor logos on the outer thighs. Her pants are usually long enough to cover them.

Her Biography

Personal Quote: “Chat, shut the fuck up. I’ve got this shot.”
Real name: Mira. Period.
Username: “Pink Dot (Hitwoman Vlogs <3)”
Gender: Female
Race: Caucasian
Nationality: American, or Nova Citian, if that’s becoming a nationality these days
Age: 20
Occupation: Officially a Milicor mercenary. Also a streamer. Her brand is that she does both at once.
Family: Left in the dust. She broke off from them at 12 years old, which might as well be forever ago. Her personal AI, Faraday, is sort of her new parents. Then again, Faraday needs some babysitting too.

Her Stuff

Vehicle: Metal legs.

Equipment:
-A very, very big Milicor sniper rifle. Could probably break through a gunship’s hull from 5 kilometers. She hasn’t tried.
-A Milicor scope with a rangefinder, a whole lot of zoom settings, and a whole lot of EM spectrum filters. If the background noise of Nova City cooperates, she can see a target through walls – the more net-active they are, the clearer the view.
-A case for carrying said rifle and scope in a good number of pieces, in her hand or over her shoulder as needed. She can assemble it all in about 30 seconds.
-A very, very small handgun. Could just barely break through a skull from 10 meters. She has tried.
-This one fits literally up her sleeve.
-Faraday, a personal AI assistant. Stolen from Zenith Tech when she was a kid (Shut up!! She isn’t anymore!!), hasn’t seen a technician since and it shows.

Cybernetics:
+Bionic legs, Milicor brand, logo and all. Run fast, jump far, fall as far as you need, balanced landing. Not so good at jumping high, but there’s always stairs. Supposedly pack a mean kick, but she’s not a martial artist. Very energy-efficient, “for long deployments.”
+Zenith Tech “Vessel 4” PAI Carrier, stolen by her and implanted by Milicor. Faraday lives here, in a little metal square poking out just above her right shoulder. Has a wireless connection to anything Faraday can crack (anything more than 10 years old is easy, less than that takes time and isn’t reliable), as well as a wired connection to her peripheral nervous system. Faraday helps with shooting. And tries to help with other things.
+Zenith Tech over-the-eye camera lenses with underskin streaming suite, not stolen, much to her account balance’s dismay. Lenses retract into her eyelids when not in use. Barely visible pieces of cybernetics with “unbelievably clear!” resolution, 1 TB of memory for recording, and a solid internet/cellular connection, obviously. Voice-controlled. Displays the chat scroll straight into her optic nerve on command. Doubles as a self-torture implement in this respect.
+Milicor in-ear radio implant, closed connection to the Vessel. Faraday talks to her here. No one else can without a hands-on adjustment.
+Milicor in-throat microphone implant. Used to talk back to Faraday, offer commentary for chat, or communicate one-way to any other device that'll hear her, at less than a whisper’s volume if need be. She wishes chat would stop calling it ASMR.

-None of this is EMP-proofed. Faraday is already a mess and will probably shut down entirely if pulsed, to say nothing of what its nervous system connection might result in.
-The Vessel 4 and streaming suite are Zenith - one occupied by something with self-preservation and the other modern tech - and both will put up a hard fight against hacking. The radio implant is closed off. But the throatmic and her legs are just about open to someone committed. Send a message to her stream? Make her dance?
-The streaming suite is Zenith proprietary. Zenith Technologies reserves the right to commence or terminate recording or streaming processes at any time for any reason. Milicor has a way around this for communicating with her. She doesn’t know what it is and has no such protection for personal use. They haven’t spied on her yet – to her knowledge – but…

Her

Skills:
-Shooting at long range. She made a headshot on a sitting target at 22 km once, without Faraday’s help, on her second try. There’s a reason she has this job at her age.
-Firearm handling and maintenance in general. She’s Milicor.
-Disappearing, usually after shooting at long range. She also did this with her mom and dad.
-Military speak. A tango is an enemy, not a dance.
-Holding chat’s attention. Sometimes.
-Falling back on embarrassing means to hold chat’s attention. The donations flow like… water.
-Her streaming personality translates somewhat into real-life charisma.
-Lying and acting. She’s basically done them all her life.

Personality:
-She’s a cynic. A cost of living in Nova City.
-She’s distrusting by nature, though she tries not to show it. Nova City did that one too.
-She’s a flirt. Not at heart, but she acts like it. A cost of her side job.
-Out-of-op, she’s kind of a scatterbrain. In-op, she’s all business.

Likes/Dislikes:
+Guns, and using them. Her rifle has a very long and complicated name, and she can rap it off easy. She can do yours too. And the caliber. And the magazine capacity. And most of the mods on the market…
+Fellow “hobbyists.” She hasn’t met many.
+Freerunning. Most of her shots come from rooftops. So this is kind of her dream job.
+Food. Whatever you’ve got, but American cuisine ranks foremost among excellence.
+Girls…
+Chat.
-Chat.
-Men… sometimes…
-Maintaining opsec onstream. It’s just never easy – for every new trick she comes up with...
-Her parents.
-“The Corporatocracy.” She doesn’t say so, but sometimes it shows. Yes, she works for Milicor, but that’s just another symptom of the Big Problem. If you push her, she may rant.
-Waking up some mornings.

Her History

Backstory:
Mira was a rebel from the start. Mom and dad should’ve seen it coming when she ran away. Maybe they did. They probably didn’t care. She doesn’t think about them anymore. It’s only been 8 years.
She spent the first two of those years on the streets. It was… an improvement, though most in her place wouldn’t say the same. Going to bed hungry on a loose mattress was worth being free. The local gangs of Sendero District kept her alive and made several offers to take her in altogether, but she wasn’t about to answer to anyone again just yet. She was close with them, as close as they’d let her get without giving anything back.
At 13, a whole year without a serious act of rebellion got to her. Zenith Tech only slightly missed the defective prototype Vessel that they lost. Mira kept it awhile, with no way to get it implanted without a high risk of getting convicted.
Milicor doesn’t show itself in force in Nova City, but they have interests here, as anyone would. She met a transient recruitment task force at 14. They tried her marksmanship. They made a startling offer. She had, apparently, a talent. The goodbyes were hard. Following orders again was hard. Her first kill, the next year, was not.
Mira spent some time as a teenage spy girl. They kept her out of Nova City as long as she was underage, for allegedly moral reasons, but the plan was always to send her back if she survived long enough. Her first implant was a recording and surveillance suite, which she would later swap out for the streamer gear, and the second was Faraday. In these years, she learned her camera work, mastered talking to a rapidly-degrading unlicensed AI partner, and refined her ability to not get caught, not be followed, not be noticed, and take long shots.
She was sent back to Nova City for her work at 18 years old. It hadn’t changed a bit. Missing having an “audience” to talk to, with as little permission as possible, she started streaming at 19, which was, relatedly, the same year as the first time she lifted her shirt in front of non-family. Her chat was so nice before she did that, yet… so much less giving.
The regret from that day has really stacked up by now. Hopefully she doesn’t get herself into any worse trouble this year.

Oh – yeah. The pun you were waiting for me to put somewhere in here, it’s “streamsniper.”

2086 - A Cyberpunk RP

Mira/"Pink Dot"

Her Look

-Image-
I have a few! All are fanart of Yuuhi Riri, a Nijisanji VTuber.

anime

Profile pic

"What- of course it's staged! That's the POINT!"

Street casual

"Double patty or the date's off."

VTuber avatar

"Sorry chat, you really don't want to see me today. How about this cutie, though?"

She spends most of her time in plainclothes, even on a mission, because she tries to be far enough and obscure enough as not to risk being shot. The difference between mission and casual attire is the color: when she’s off the job, she uses the chance to wear bright colors and funny t-shirts. Her favorite is all white and says “obsolete.” on the chest in Roboto font. For certain streams, she’ll wear something low-collar.
The woman herself is about 5’4”, short dyed-pink hair, athletic build and tends to smile whether or not she means it. Her legs look natural unless you catch the proud Milicor logos on the outer thighs. Her pants are usually long enough to cover them.

Her Biography

Personal Quote: “Chat, shut the fuck up. I’ve got this shot.”
Real name: Mira. Period.
Username: “Pink Dot (Hitwoman Vlogs <3)”
Gender: Female
Race: Caucasian
Nationality: American, or Nova Citian, if that’s becoming a nationality these days
Age: 20
Occupation: Officially a Milicor mercenary. Also a streamer. Her brand is that she does both at once.
Family: Left in the dust. She broke off from them at 12 years old, which might as well be forever ago. Her personal AI, Faraday, is sort of her new parents. Then again, Faraday needs some babysitting too.

Her Stuff

Vehicle: Metal legs.

Equipment:
-A very, very big Milicor sniper rifle. Could probably break through a gunship’s hull from 5 kilometers. She hasn’t tried.
-A Milicor scope with a rangefinder, a whole lot of zoom settings, and a whole lot of EM spectrum filters. If the background noise of Nova City cooperates, she can see a target through walls – the more net-active they are, the clearer the view.
-A case for carrying said rifle and scope in a good number of pieces, in her hand or over her shoulder as needed. She can assemble it all in about 30 seconds.
-A very, very small handgun. Could just barely break through a skull from 10 meters. She has tried.
-This one fits literally up her sleeve.
-Faraday, a personal AI assistant. Stolen from Zenith Tech when she was a kid (Shut up!! She isn’t anymore!!), hasn’t seen a technician since and it shows.

Cybernetics:
+Bionic legs, Milicor brand, logo and all. Run fast, jump far, fall as far as you need, balanced landing. Not so good at jumping high, but there’s always stairs. Supposedly pack a mean kick, but she’s not a martial artist. Very energy-efficient, “for long deployments.”
+Zenith Tech “Vessel 4” PAI Carrier, stolen by her and implanted by Milicor. Faraday lives here, in a little metal square poking out just above her right shoulder. Has a wireless connection to anything Faraday can crack (anything more than 10 years old is easy, less than that takes time and isn’t reliable), as well as a wired connection to her peripheral nervous system. Faraday helps with shooting. And tries to help with other things.
+Zenith Tech over-the-eye camera lenses with underskin streaming suite, not stolen, much to her account balance’s dismay. Lenses retract into her eyelids when not in use. Barely visible pieces of cybernetics with “unbelievably clear!” resolution, 1 TB of memory for recording, and a solid internet/cellular connection, obviously. Voice-controlled. Displays the chat scroll straight into her optic nerve on command. Doubles as a self-torture implement in this respect.
+Milicor in-ear radio implant, closed connection to the Vessel. Faraday talks to her here. No one else can without a hands-on adjustment.
+Milicor in-throat microphone implant. Used to talk back to Faraday, offer commentary for chat, or communicate one-way to any other device that'll hear her, at less than a whisper’s volume if need be. She wishes chat would stop calling it ASMR.

-None of this is EMP-proofed. Faraday is already a mess and will probably shut down entirely if pulsed, to say nothing of what its nervous system connection might result in.
-The Vessel 4 and streaming suite are Zenith - one occupied by something with self-preservation and the other modern tech - and both will put up a hard fight against hacking. The radio implant is closed off. But the throatmic and her legs are just about open to someone committed. Send a message to her stream? Make her dance?
-The streaming suite is Zenith proprietary. Zenith Technologies reserves the right to commence or terminate recording or streaming processes at any time for any reason. Milicor has a way around this for communicating with her. She doesn’t know what it is and has no such protection for personal use. They haven’t spied on her yet – to her knowledge – but…

Her

Skills:
-Shooting at long range. She made a headshot on a sitting target at 22 km once, without Faraday’s help, on her second try. There’s a reason she has this job at her age.
-Firearm handling and maintenance in general. She’s Milicor.
-Disappearing, usually after shooting at long range. She also did this with her mom and dad.
-Military speak. A tango is an enemy, not a dance.
-Holding chat’s attention. Sometimes.
-Falling back on embarrassing means to hold chat’s attention. The donations flow like… water.
-Her streaming personality translates somewhat into real-life charisma.
-Lying and acting. She’s basically done them all her life.

Personality:
-She’s a cynic. A cost of living in Nova City.
-She’s distrusting by nature, though she tries not to show it. Nova City did that one too.
-She’s a flirt. Not at heart, but she acts like it. A cost of her side job.
-Out-of-op, she’s kind of a scatterbrain. In-op, she’s all business.

Likes/Dislikes:
+Guns, and using them. Her rifle has a very long and complicated name, and she can rap it off easy. She can do yours too. And the caliber. And the magazine capacity. And most of the mods on the market…
+Fellow “hobbyists.” She hasn’t met many.
+Freerunning. Most of her shots come from rooftops. So this is kind of her dream job.
+Food. Whatever you’ve got, but American cuisine ranks foremost among excellence.
+Girls…
+Chat.
-Chat.
-Men… sometimes…
-Maintaining opsec onstream. It’s just never easy – for every new trick she comes up with...
-Her parents.
-“The Corporatocracy.” She doesn’t say so, but sometimes it shows. Yes, she works for Milicor, but that’s just another symptom of the Big Problem. If you push her, she may rant.
-Waking up some mornings.

Her History

Backstory:
Mira was a rebel from the start. Mom and dad should’ve seen it coming when she ran away. Maybe they did. They probably didn’t care. She doesn’t think about them anymore. It’s only been 8 years.
She spent the first two of those years on the streets. It was… an improvement, though most in her place wouldn’t say the same. Going to bed hungry on a loose mattress was worth being free. The local gangs of Sendero District kept her alive and made several offers to take her in altogether, but she wasn’t about to answer to anyone again just yet. She was close with them, as close as they’d let her get without giving anything back.
At 13, a whole year without a serious act of rebellion got to her. Zenith Tech only slightly missed the defective prototype Vessel that they lost. Mira kept it awhile, with no way to get it implanted without a high risk of getting convicted.
Milicor doesn’t show itself in force in Nova City, but they have interests here, as anyone would. She met a transient recruitment task force at 14. They tried her marksmanship. They made a startling offer. She had, apparently, a talent. The goodbyes were hard. Following orders again was hard. Her first kill, the next year, was not.
Mira spent some time as a teenage spy girl. They kept her out of Nova City as long as she was underage, for allegedly moral reasons, but the plan was always to send her back if she survived long enough. Her first implant was a recording and surveillance suite, which she would later swap out for the streamer gear, and the second was Faraday. In these years, she learned her camera work, mastered talking to a rapidly-degrading unlicensed AI partner, and refined her ability to not get caught, not be followed, not be noticed, and take long shots.
She was sent back to Nova City for her work at 18 years old. It hadn’t changed a bit. Missing having an “audience” to talk to, with as little permission as possible, she started streaming at 19, which was, relatedly, the same year as the first time she lifted her shirt in front of non-family. Her chat was so nice before she did that, yet… so much less giving.
The regret from that day has really stacked up by now. Hopefully she doesn’t get herself into any worse trouble this year.

Oh – yeah. The pun you were waiting for me to put somewhere in here, it’s “streamsniper.”

2086 - A Cyberpunk RP

After lurking about a week I've found an RP that looks easy to get into. I don't know about hitting the length requirement - I'm used to sentences at a time - but I can give it a shot.
I have a character that can work with this, and I've spent a few hours drawing her up a sheet that matches the setting. I don't have a picture that fits just right, but I have a text description and a few that almost suit her. Can I just post it outright? @Kiragan_Natsuki?