My name is Crimson, and I am a runner

So let's start by talking about me.

This is me (In case you hadn't
guessed already)

First up, my Street Name's Crimson. I'm not giving out my birth name, but the best thing I can say is that it's probably buried in a corp's "Missing person" database (no I won’t say which one) with a pretty low priority. I've been living for several years under a fake SIN with all that comes with it.

Okay, so let's look at some of the basics. I'm an Elf, for starters. I’m twenty four years old, but thanks to the Elf thing, I’m going to look like this forever. I love it. I’m 180 centimeters tall, and while I've got a sorta athletic, sporty build, I'm also a lot heavier then I should be for various reasons that we'll get to below. My looks are pretty much natural and again will stay like that forever because, well, Elf. I have long red hair that, thanks to my metatype, is pretty much perfect all the time; I wear it in a ponytail most days that just happens to show off my ears. My eyes are green, though they're semi-realistic looking cybernetic ones. The real ones were green anyway.

Oh yeah, I've got a few tats. No, you don’t get to see 'em.

What I do is the really exciting part. I'm a Shadowrunner, a part of that massive grey industry of freelance espionage, sabotage, assassination, extraction and whatever else that's vital to the functioning of the Megacorps that run the world. I get paid to perform criminal acts against specified targets by whoever's willing to pony up the yens to get it done. I’m a solder in the Cold War between the Megas, the Governments and whoever else is interested. Though if you're reading this, then odds are you know all this already, so hey. I'll skip the details.

Why do I do it is another matter. I'm not one to talk too much about it, but a lot of it comes down to the fact that I don't like the Megas and what they do to people. They're control freaks, pure and simple. They press down on their employees, taking over their lives, turning them into slaves by any other names. And the worst part is, those people accept it. They trade their freedoms away for security, safety, jobs and a roof over their heads, knowing full well that they'll never have to worry about anything as long as they slave away ten outs a day, six days a week or whatever else for their entire natural lives without ever knowing just how little freedom or control over their lives they actually have.

I hate it. I don't want to be a part of it. I want to be the opposite of it. And by being a runner, I fight against it in my own way.

There's a lot of different types of runners, and I know that they hate to be pigeonholed. Me, I'd call myself a Street Samurai; a warrior of the shadows who blends chrome and flesh to become a super-solder, far more than any normal metahuman could be. I've augmented myself extensively with cyberware to make me stronger, tougher and above all else faster than anyone else.

Also me

The latter's my big area of specialty; through wired reflexes, reaction enhancers, boosted senses and a few other tricks, I am blindingly fast. I can go form nothing to full-tilt faster than you can see, and take people out before they even know what's going on. The lucky ones get a quick blur of motion and then boom, they’re gone. Many others don't see me coming before there's a shock glove on their shoulder or a sword in the back, or maybe a burst of gunfire. And in the off-chance that a fight lasts longer than that, I’m fast enough to dance between bullets as I take down the survivors.

I am a dead sexy killing machine.

Although as awesome as I am (Even if Abby complains that I’m too “Pink Mohawk” for her. What does that even mean? I don’t have a Mohawk and my hair’s not even pink), there’s also certain realities. You try running on your own, more likely than not, you're going to end up getting yourself killed. So I do have a team that I work with. More on them to come.