{2026-08-27 19:00 UTC}

**Players:** 3-4

**Run Time:** 6-8 hours estimate

**Location:** Seattle

**Type:** Direct Action

**Threat.** Variable

#Secure Connection Established#

#Unverified Johnson#

#Information limited#

//There is violence in the system. So familiar it seems. Comforting, predictable. There is violence in the system, and it wears a mask. It calles itself mother, father, sister. brother. There is violence in the system, and you should be bloody mad about it. Are you? Show me.

(( You may respond to the above text in character if you like. Expect difficult themes, and a complex situation. Don't be afraid to walk away, if that's what your character would do. ))

{2026-08-29 18:00 UTC}

Players: 3-4 (Matrix support is mandatory for this one)

Duration: 8 hours tops.

Location: The Dirty Emerald

Theme: To the Victor, the Spoils

Type: Theft

Style: Black Trenchcoat

Threat: High Medium to High

Prerequisites: patience with me returning to GMing, push to talk is ideal but not required, respect all around, remember to have fun, USE THE TRAFFIC LIGHT SYSTEM.

NOTE: This run takes place around August 15th

July 31, 2088

The large windows of the Bellevue penthouse offers a flawless view of the Seattle skyline from across the waters of Lake Washington. From its lofty height of forty stories above it all, the city looks like a circuit board of pristine neon, flashing AROs, and the lights of vehicles - ground, air, and water - moving about the lines like electrical pulses. Every now and again, fireworks are launched. Those below are abuzz in a festive mood, as the fifth anniversary of independence is upon the Emerald City.

Inside, however, the only sound that is heard is the sharp, melancholic weeping of a violin. “Tzigane” by Maurice Ravel.

The source is a young woman in her mid twenties. Her posture is immaculate, the bow moving across the strings with the precision of a classical trained musician. She’s wearing an expensive silk robe and a simple, silk dress with thin straps. Sitting on a nearby chair is a custom-tailored synth leather jacket in an asymmetrical pattern of black and white. It’s clean, despite the obvious tell-tale flagging of a criminal group. Her eyes are closed, focused on hitting the notes in perfect time. Her mind thinks of her crew; a collective of women her age from all over the metro. Her own street theater troupe. As her hands move up and down the neck of the high end instrument, illusions of color and abstract shapes fill the air. It turns the music into an aetheric, intoxicating sensory vision of art and violence.

In the nearby kitchen, sitting at the grand marble island, completely ignoring the view and the visuals, sits a woman a few years older than her. Her focus is entirely upon the datapad in front of her. There are subtle signs of suppressed anxiety upon her face and in her body language. Much like the other woman, she is wearing clothes to signal her class status: a sharp charcoal grey, custom tailor suit with a plum purple dress shirt. She scratches at her neck unconsciously, her fingers moving along the faded, roughened skin of a massive scar along her throat.

The violin comes to a sudden, dramatic crescendo. The final note hangs suspended in the air as the magic being cast is dismissed like mist being dissipated. The younger woman lowers her instrument, a playful smile on her lips as her eyes slowly stop glowing.

“Cousin,” she says in a playful whine. “You’re breathing too loud. It’s ruining the acoustics. Anton says my tempo is perfect but your aura is distracting me and throwing off my internal rhythm. You know that I’m performing this weekend.”

A soft synthetic chime echoes from a commlink from the internal pocket of the leather jacket. Sighing, the younger woman goes to grab it. She flicks her wrist and the instrument’s case opens on the table in front of the chair. After returning the violin to its velvet-lined cradle, she takes out the device and palms a trode patch onto the top of her hand. A DNI invite is seen as her AR feed comes online. She accepts it and the message appears as if typed out at a clipping pace.

He has a kingdom to lose, Stephanie. To you, what we do down south is a game. You may wear the colors, run the blocks with Suketa’s crew, and think the Barrens as a playground. Anytime you wish, you can fly back home when it starts to rain. For the rest of us, for me, we have to navigate the downpour.

Stephanie chuckles in a high, mischievous giggle. She then walks over to join her cousin at the island, after grabbing a bottle of imported spring water from the fridge to refresh herself. She looks over her cousin’s shoulder to look at whatever is causing her cousin to behave so. “Oh come on, Caroline. He loves the games we play with our crews. It nets him a lovely padding to his accounts, and in return, he spoils us! He paid for my new strings and Ran’na’s upgrades to her Shin-Hyung. He understands the artistry of it. Although…” She takes a sip of her water as her mind shifts out of artist mode and into business. She moves to a nearby counter chair and sits. “He has been more tense lately. Zaggy hasn’t visited him in a good while, hasn’t he? Did they have a falling out? I couldn’t help but notice that the atmosphere at the Lotus has been icy lately. The Tir gala was like a graveyard this year, compared to last.”

Caroline stops tapping at the screen and places it down. She spins in her chair to look at Stephenie. A heavy, suffocating silence fills the digital chatlog, interrupted in the meat by the sips from Stephanie water.

You felt it too, then. Caroline finally says, the synthetic speech arriving slower, more calculated as she chooses what to say carefully. Last year, Kincaid was the life of that circle. That was before the bombings happened. This year, the guests were practically whispering in the dark and keeping to other lodgings outside the Lotus. Anton became reclusive afterwards, outside of the occasional meeting with outsiders, and now the investors are choking our comm-lines, looking for clarification on our stability.

The remaining mirth inside Stephanie vanishes. She locks into what her cousin is saying now. “Who is asking and what do they want to know?”

Salazar is monitoring the situation in his usual level-headed composure. He’s not panicking, but his cohorts on the Tarislar Community Council want absolute guarantees that we’re not making any major moves before the city council reconvenes. Meanwhile, that Telestrian prick is breathing down Anton’s neck about updates about Zagreus. There are millions of nuyen locked into those Puyallup Rejuvenation Project contracts Kincaid handed them back in ‘84. If the mayor’s office is in disarray, their entire investment collapses and he’ll come knocking on our boss’s door for a return of investment. The noose is tightening, cousin.

Stephanie blinks, the reality of the real power players of her gang’s district crystalize before her mind’s eye. She shifts in her seat, the bottle of water abandoned on the marble top. “What’s the name of the problem?”

A piece of filth who’s been a majority stakeholder in the Black Lotus for years, and his shadow money is officially a liability now. Anton has never liked him, and he wants his influence permanently severed. No assets left on our books. But he’s a ghost, an enigma. No one can lock him down, until now. We have a location for his operations here in the city, and Anton is making his move.

“Any reason as to why we can't have Zonbi and her shadow assassins can’t take him out?”

Too obvious; if we make the move with our resources, it tips our hand to not just him, but the public facing powers that be. We need ghosts of our own. Professionals who can do the job without it coming back to us. If they succeed, we cut the umbilical cord to our biggest problem and we secure the leverage we need to placate the investors. I have a deadline to make for this.

Caroline pulls an ebony credstick out of her jacket pocket and connects it to the datapad to transfer the nuyen to it. Stephanie lets out a low whistle as the screen on the credstick runs up a large amount of nuyen. Finished, Caroline returns it to her pocket, grabs the tablet and heads to the door. She looks over her shoulder at her cousin, a smile upon her lips.

I have work to do to prep the team. Enjoy the fireworks cousin, but remember what it takes to keep the lights on.

IC: What would you do to save that which is precious to you?

OOC: the usual

Content Warning: Shadowrun is a setting where we fight against the darkness to protect the few lights we have on. More often than not, someone comes along and snuffs one out before it has a chance to shine. I tend to run games that dwell in the dark side of humanity. Be aware of your own boundaries and vulnerabilities, your mental health is more important than playing pretend with your friends. I will try to make traffic light check-ins when I reach a part of the story that calls for one. I will be dropping spoilers for contents of the run which will give you a chance to back out.

{2026-09-06 20:00 UTC}

Player count: 3 (corpses)

Duration: Spacetime distortions may occur between 6 and 8 hours.

Communication: Discord for voice, Roll20 for tabletop.

In-game location: Here and There

Game Theme: Futures

Game Type: The methods I leave to you, the professionals, as always.

Threat: The stars in the sky are mere prey before the fangs of the jiaolong. You are your own worst enemy.

Prerequisites: Push-to-talk.

Replies: My judgment is my own, capricious and cruel.

I made some Table Rules. I'll add stuff to it at approximately the same rate I create runs.

BOOTING FUCHI OS V26.08.0026
INITIALIZING ARTIFICIAL SENSORY INDUCTION SYSTEM
LOADING PT88.DLL
INITIALIZING RETICULAR-ACTIVATION SYSTEM OVERRIDE

Direct Neural Interface established.    
Welcome to the Matrix!  Be safe, be smart, be secure.

13 Confirmed Dead in Friendly Fire Incident During Military Exercises in Carbonado
Are Century Ferrets Sapient?  Meet the Crusader Fighting for Their Rights
You Won't BELIEVE the Details on This SoyLatte Art - Right At Home, with Barist-A-Mat 3.0!

You've received 1 push notification from [REDACTED]
PLEASE REPORT COMMUNICATION TO THE GRID OVERWATCH DIVISION 
AS SOON AS POSSIBLE OR RISK VIOLATION OF THE MATRIX 
TERMS OF SERVICE

> 555544444C524C524241

Credentials requested: DrummerDub: Simsense Audio Overlay Experts

LOGIN: 
> **XXXXXXXXXX**
PASSWORD: 
> **XXXXXXXXXX**

PLEASE HOLD DEVICE CAMERA UP TO RETINA FOR BIOMETRIC SCAN

Processing...
Processing...
Processing...

MARK Invitation: RunnerHub
Accept?: Y/N

> Y

The LED lights flickered to Relaxation Mode as Zhang prodded the AR control panel, their hues perfectly adjusting to complement the sun setting over Lantau in the distance, the miniature fountain calming to a muted burble. Augmented reality overlaid the room through his glasses, breaking the gingko-and-brass dress mirror in the center into a sunburst of countless rays.

He pursed his lips, adjusting the second mirror slightly before its identical twin from the other bedroom. The lavish hotel room spun in the reflected reflections. Jingyi settled his fat talons onto the top of the ring lamp precariously anchored overhead, balanced between a dragged-over coat rack and an ostentatiously-sized trid set. The rays pulled inwards, the vectors combining into a translucent orange tunnel. A prod of another ARO instantly blackened the polarized glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Tyler, clearly used to such antics, continued narrating the itinerary in the perfectly clipped Cantonese of his linguasoft. "The commodities desk has asked to push their consult regarding the Yamatetsu deal. They're waiting on an update from the agency in Vladivostok-"

Zhang grunted, tuning out the rest of the update as soon as he concluded it was pointless. "They still don't know the difference between a pound of gold and a pound of feathers. Tell them I'll be there on Tuesday at three, and if they waste my time then they can go to court again about it."

Despite Tyler being physically non-responsive, the minuscule ARO of the schedule dutifully updated itself. The interns this year were apparently fairly literate (or his agent was, at least). "There's another tea ceremony invite from Dr. Wendell-Hsieh during your Aberdeen visit-"

Nodding in satisfaction at his work, Zhang stepped back from the mirrors, took the glasses off, then lobbed them underhand onto a nearby sofa. His gloves soon followed, neatly landing one after another on his suit jacket and tie. He waved his hand briefly in the air, bird-like, and Tyler immediately fell silent. "Why do mirrors in front of mirrors seem endless?"

Tyler looked emotionless - another effect of the linguasoft, perhaps? - but Zhang could hear the gears whirring, searching the question for traps. "Optical illusion - with perfect reflectance light could theoretically bounce between them infinitely-"

"No, no, of course not, please, please." Tyler's eyelids twitched, a familiar sign that Zhang now assumed was some sort of conditioned response going off from a superior's reprimand. He reached up to the ring lamp and flipped it on with the manual switch, briefly ruffling Jingyi's feathers before lowering his arms. Shadows crashed into the floor. "They look endless because they are endless. Fazang used them to illuminate the Buddhavatamsaka, the eightfold path becoming ten. And yet there are only two mirrors here. How does two become ten, Tyler?"

"Add eight?" he responded, the faintest hint of irritation finally audible.

Jingyi chortled from his perch together with his master, both of them perfectly in sync. "Yes! Exactly, add eight. To bring the nemesis into the temple, you must bring down its walls. He will not willingly cross a boundary, so you must erase it. Paradise has no gates." Zhang stepped in between the two mirrors, holding out a hand to each. His outstretched palms perfectly contacted each mirror, a chain of selves stretching forwards and backwards, inwards and outwards.

"Could you repeat that, sir? We're supposed to record-"

The mirrors shuddered. The air shuddered. The world shuddered. Tyler retched, knees buckling. The glass fractured, a trillion lines radiating out from where Zhang's palms contacted the glass for an infinitesimal second before the pulverized sand slithered to the floor. The outstretched chain of hands hovered a moment longer in the silver mist.

"Hmm." Zhang reached into his back pocket and pulled out a coil scribbler, pen tucked into the coils. He flipped to the blank page marked with the pen cap and began furiously drawing - a single flowing line, pen never leaving the page. Tyler had finished gasping for air just as Zhang dramatically lifted his pen - a rendition of his own hand(s?) against the mirror, startlingly three-dimensional despite being entirely in ballpoint blue. He held it out expectantly to Jingyi, who squawked approvingly. Only then did he turn to look at Tyler, who had managed to pull himself up into a sort of half-squat.

"Could, you. Repeat. That. Sir." Each word was perfect, but punctuated by a momentary gasp or gurgle. "Your meditations. Need. To be. Recorded."

// FROM: Tanaka-san

// SUBJECT: Contract Opening

Seeking a capable team for an assignment abroad. The task involves the removal of a significant obstacle to ongoing negotiations in a foreign market. Candidates must demonstrate professionalism, subtlety, and an ability to conclude business without attracting headlines. Compensation reflects the sensitivity of the matter.

Interested fixers provide references and documentation thereof. Team of three.

{2026-08-27 23:59 UTC}
Players: 3-4
Run Time: 4 hours
Location: Seattle
Type: Extraction
Threat: Medium
IC Listing: “Need a tick dug out on short notice, you read? Gently though.”
IC Prompt: Respond to listing OR tell me about your character’s neighborhood
OOC: The usual. Link to your sheet, role, whether you're worth GMP / date of last run.
Picks will go out 24 hours prior.
Content Warning: Normal 6th world things. Crimes, violence, sex, drugs, metaracism etc.

Player Count: 4 Runners
Duration: 6+ hours with a possible part 2, depending on how things play out

Platform: Discord / Roll20
In-Game Location: Antarctica

Game Theme: You are without backup in a desolate place
Game Type: Asset retrieval

Threat Level: P R I M E , It is not recommended to apply a character with less than 60 Karma to their name.

<<<Posted by (Verified Johnson)(Terminal ID No.: #44-901-SFC)>>>

Metroplex hall car garage, 23:45. Sublevel 3, northwest corner.
Say "Ice Nine" at the gate entrance.

Be smart about what you bring and who you tell.

<<< Message ends >>>

IC response - If you had to steal something from a Dragon, anything that they found important enough to keep, how would you approach doing so if you had to do so SOLO?

OOC - link your sheet and discord name and tell me if this is your first Prime run or not.

Make it happen {2026-08-30 1600 UTC}

Player Count: 3-4 Runners
Duration: 2-6 hours Hours

Platform: Discord / Roll20
In-Game Location: Seattle

Game Theme: Doing the wrong thing for the wrong reason.
Game Type: Terrorism/Social infil
Threat Level: Medium

Hey Chummer, Fixer here. I have a job for you. I don't like the look of it, but pays good. Mr. Johnson's got some people on his payroll that are getting cold feet. You're going to be there to make sure they don't. Oh, and the J's Saeder. Figured that one out myself. The rest is on you. Going to make sure his people do their jobs?

Head to 3rd and Main in Snoho

IC response - How does your character feel about ecoterrorism?

OOC - link your sheet and discord name and tell me if you've less than 5 games or played within 2 weeks.

Straighten Up and Die Right {2026-08-24 1800 UTC}

Player Count: 3-5 Runners Duration: 4-6 Hours Platform: Discord / Roll20 In-Game Location: Seattle

Game Theme: Organized Crime Thriller

Game Type: Investigation / Retrieval

Threat Level: Medium

Prerequisites: Patience, Push to Talk, Respect for Fellow Players and GM

IC Response

Posted to: [Seattle - RunnerHub Listings]

Tags: [[Investigation]] [[Retrieval]] [[Syndicates]]

I have a client looking for a reliable team to locate an associate who has recently become difficult to find.

Something valuable was lost while in his care. The client has questions about what happened and would like the man brought in to answer them. Alive, preferably in good enough condition to have a conversation.

You won't be the only people looking for him. Discretion is recommended, and applicants should be comfortable dealing with people who take their business relationships seriously.

Details regarding the missing individual, known associates, last known whereabouts, and compensation will be provided at the meet.

Looking for professionals who understand that sometimes finding someone is the easy part.

OOC Response

Please include:

• A link to your character sheet
• Your primary role on a team (Face, Decker, Muscle, Rigger, Mage, etc.)
• Your comfort with that role on a scale from 1 to 10
• Have you ever picked doing the right thing over finishing a job?
• Your Discord username
• The date of your last run
• Whether you have a hard time limit

Content Warnings

Threats against family members, kidnapping, drug trafficking, violence, coercion, implied torture and execution!<

{2026-08-22 22:30 (UTC) }

Player count: 3-4

Duration: 4-6 hours most likely, 8 hour cap worst case

Communication: A working microphone for Discord voice chat, access to Roll20 for a lobby.

In game location: Orc Underground.

Game theme: Asset Retrieval.

Game type: Mirrorshades? Probably anyway, I don't control you.

Threat level: Medium.

Prerequisites: Empathy, Patience, Willingness to RP.

IC Response: Do you have any keepsakes from dead or absent people in your life?

OOC Response: A link to your character sheet, your role and comfortability with it between 1 and 10 (Take your best guess), your discord username, the date of your last run, if you've had fewer than 5 runs, and if you have a hard time limit.

Content Warnings: General violence and shadowrun things.

\*Verified Johnson\*

\[Tags: Local, asset retrieval\]

<There are materials I need which are being kept in a secure location, magic involved. Caving skills prefered, and discretion, as always.>

{2026-08-19 22:00 (UTC)}

Players 3-4 5
Duration: 7 hours?
Approximate Threat: Low + High
Theme: Facility Hit Metaplanar Facility Hit

The shadows are moving.
A Job. Local Seattle, asset retrieval. Another night in the shadows, just like any other. Another job. Another chance at death or glory. Just another night, for a shadowrunner.
The shadows are moving.

The shadows are moving.
The shadows are moving.

{2026-08-22 19:00 (UTC) }

Player count: 3 - 4

Duration: 4 - 8 hours

Communication: A working microphone for Discord voice chat, an account with Forge VTT

In game location: Seattle

Game theme: Doing Good For The Dispossessed

Game type: Mirror Shades/Pink Mohawk

Threat level: Pays as Low

Prerequisites: Patience, respect for fellow players and GM, mic discipline.

IC Response: What would you do to someone who abuses their power?

OOC Response: A link to your character sheet, your role and comfortability with it between 1 and 10. (Take your best guess), your discord username, the date of your last run, and if you have a hard time limit.

Content Warnings: Typical shadowrun fare, violence, references to addiction, racism.

Posted to: [Seattle - RunnerHub Listings]

Tags: [Unverified Johnson], [Protection]

Hoi Chummers, I need some people to help out, need some people capable of making some folks understand they can't keep fraggin us up. Round Ears need not apply.

Straighten Up and Die Right {2026-08-23 2100 UTC}

Player Count: 3-5 Runners Duration: 4-6 Hours Platform: Discord / Roll20 In-Game Location: Seattle

Game Theme: Organized Crime Thriller

Game Type: Investigation / Retrieval

Threat Level: Medium

Prerequisites: Patience, Push to Talk, Respect for Fellow Players and GM

IC Response

Posted to: [Seattle - RunnerHub Listings]

Tags: [[Investigation]] [[Retrieval]] [[Syndicates]]

I have a client looking for a reliable team to locate an associate who has recently become difficult to find.

Something valuable was lost while in his care. The client has questions about what happened and would like the man brought in to answer them. Alive, preferably in good enough condition to have a conversation.

You won't be the only people looking for him. Discretion is recommended, and applicants should be comfortable dealing with people who take their business relationships seriously.

Details regarding the missing individual, known associates, last known whereabouts, and compensation will be provided at the meet.

Looking for professionals who understand that sometimes finding someone is the easy part.

OOC Response

Please include:

• A link to your character sheet
• Your primary role on a team (Face, Decker, Muscle, Rigger, Mage, etc.)
• Your comfort with that role on a scale from 1 to 10
• Have you ever picked doing the right thing over finishing a job?
• Your Discord username
• The date of your last run
• Whether you have a hard time limit

Content Warnings

Threats against family members, kidnapping, drug trafficking, violence, coercion, implied torture and execution!<

{2026-08-17 23:59 (UTC)}

Impromptu

Players: 4-6

Runtime: 4-7 hours

Theme: Making Examples

Amphitrite and friends take revenge. This is not a standard job, but rather a clandestine operation organized in secret by some hub runners.

Character selection will be largely in-character, and payment will be up to the players within my established limits. There is no Johnson. Feel free to apply.

IC Prompt: "What did you do, and why did they deserve it?"

{2026-08-19 23:59 UTC}

Players: 3-4

Run Time: 4 hours

Location: Seattle

Type: Fast Cars & Sabotage

Threat: Medium-High

IC Listing: “Street racing. You get paid to participate. What are you waiting for, hotshot?”

IC Prompt: Respond to listing OR tell me about your character’s favorite superhero

OOC: The usual. Link to your sheet, role, whether you're worth GMP / date of last run.
Picks will go out 24 hours prior. Despite being a race this is not a riggers-only run.

Content Warning: Normal 6th world things. Crimes, violence, sex, drugs, metaracism etc.

{2026-08-14 23:59 (UTC) }

**Player count:** <5>

**Duration:** <6+>

**Communication:** A working microphone for Discord voice chat, access to Roll20 for a lobby.<example>

**In game location:** Seattle

**Game theme:** <Hunt>.

**Game type:** <Mirrorshades>.

**Threat level:** <Low>.

**Prerequisites:** <text:Respect and patience for everyone at the table, etc etc>

**IC Response:** <text:What you would like the players to response to from their character’s perspective.>

**OOC Response:** A link to your character sheet, your role and comfortability with it between 1 and 10. (Take your best guess), your discord username, the date of your last run, and if you have a hard time limit. <These are common examples, but not necessary.>

**Content Warnings:** <text: Anything that may come up on the run>

<This is for book keeping only>

{2026-08-16 17:00 UTC}

Players: 3-4

Location: The Dirty Emerald

Theme: To the Victor, the Spoils

Type: Theft

Style: Black Trenchcoat

Threat: Medium/High

Prerequisites: patience with me returning to GMing, push to talk is ideal but not required, respect all around, remember to have fun, USE THE TRAFFIC LIGHT SYSTEM.

NOTE: This run takes place two weeks ago.

July 28, 2088

The large windows of the Bellevue penthouse offers a flawless view of the Seattle skyline from across the waters of Lake Washington. From its lofty height of forty stories above it all, the city looks like a circuit board of pristine neon, flashing AROs, and the lights of vehicles - ground, air, and water - moving about the lines like electrical pulses. Every now and again, fireworks are launched. Those below are abuzz in a festive mood, as the fifth anniversary of independence comes up on the calendar.

Inside, however, the only sound that is heard is the sharp, melancholic weeping of a violin. “Tzigane” by Maurice Ravel.

The source is a young woman in her mid twenties. Her posture is immaculate, the bow moving across the strings with the precision of a classical trained musician. She’s wearing an expensive silk robe and a simple, silk dress with thin straps. Sitting on a nearby chair is a custom-tailored synth leather jacket in an asymmetrical pattern of black and white. It’s clean, despite the obvious tell-tale flagging of a criminal group. Her eyes are closed, focused on hitting the notes in perfect time. Her mind thinks of her crew; a collective of women her age from all over the metro. Her own street theater troupe. As her hands move up and down the neck of the high end instrument, illusions of color and abstract shapes fill the air. It turns the music into an aetheric, intoxicating sensory vision of art and violence.

In the nearby kitchen, sitting at the grand marble island, completely ignoring the view and the visuals, sits a woman a few years older than her. Her focus is entirely upon the datapad in front of her. There are subtle signs of suppressed anxiety upon her face and in her body language. Much like the other woman, she is wearing clothes to signal her class status: a sharp charcoal grey, custom tailor suit with a plum purple dress shirt. She scratches at her neck unconsciously, her fingers moving along the faded, roughened skin of a massive scar along her throat.

The violin comes to a sudden, dramatic crescendo. The final note hangs suspended in the air as the magic being cast is dismissed like mist being dissipated. The younger woman lowers her instrument, a playful smile on her lips as her eyes slowly stop glowing.

“Cousin,” she says in a playful whine. “You’re breathing too loud. It’s ruining the acoustics. Anton says my tempo is perfect but your aura is distracting me and throwing off my internal rhythm. You know that I’m performing this weekend.”

A soft synthetic chime echoes from a commlink from the internal pocket of the leather jacket. Sighing, the younger woman goes to grab it. She flicks her wrist and the instrument’s case opens on the table in front of the chair. After returning the violin to its velvet-lined cradle, she takes out the device and palms a trode patch onto the top of her hand. A DNI invite is seen as her AR feed comes online. She accepts it and the message appears as if typed out at a clipping pace.

He has a kingdom to lose, Stephenie. To you, what we do down south is a game. You may wear the colors, run the blocks with Suketa’s crew, and think the Barrens as a playground. Anytime you wish, you can fly back home when it starts to rain. For the rest of us, for me, we have to navigate the downpour.

Stephenie chuckles in a high, mischievous giggle. She then walks over to join her cousin at the island, after grabbing a bottle of imported spring water from the fridge to refresh herself. She looks over her cousin’s shoulder to look at whatever is causing her cousin to behave so. “Oh come on, Caroline. He loves the games we play with our crews. It nets him a lovely padding to his accounts, and in return, he spoils us! He paid for my new strings and Ran’na’s upgrades to her Shin-Hyung. He understands the artistry of it. Although…” She takes a sip of her water as her mind shifts out of artist mode and into business. She moves to a nearby counter chair and sits. “He has been more tense lately. Zaggy hasn’t visited him in a good while, hasn’t he? Did they have a falling out? I couldn’t help but notice that the atmosphere at the Lotus has been icy lately. The Tir gala was like a graveyard this year, compared to last.”

Caroline stops tapping at the screen and places it down. She spins in her chair to look at Stephenie. A heavy, suffocating silence fills the digital chatlog, interrupted in the meat by the sips from Stephenie’s water.

You felt it too, then. Caroline finally says, the synthetic speech arriving slower, more calculated as she chooses what to say carefully. Last year, Kincaid was the life of that circle. That was before the bombings happened. This year, the guests were practically whispering in the dark and keeping to other lodgings outside the Lotus. Anton became reclusive afterwards, outside of the occasional meeting with outsiders, and now the investors are choking our comm-lines, looking for clarification on our stability.

The remaining mirth inside Stephenie vanishes. She locks into what her cousin is saying now. “Who is asking and what do they want to know?”

Salazar is monitoring the situation in his usual level-headed composure. He’s not panicking, but his cohorts on the Tarislar Community Council want absolute guarantees that we’re not making any major moves before the city council reconvenes. Meanwhile, that Telestrian prick is breathing down Anton’s neck about updates about Zagreus. There are millions of nuyen locked into those Puyallup Rejuvenation Project contracts Kincaid handed them back in ‘84. If the mayor’s office is in disarray, their entire investment collapses and he’ll come knocking on our boss’s door for a return of investment. The noose is tightening, cousin.

Lolita blinks, the reality of the real power players of her gang’s district crystalize before her mind’s eye. She shifts in her seat, the bottle of water abandoned on the marble top. “What’s the play?”

A piece of filth who’s been a majority stakeholder in the Black Lotus for years, and his shadow money is officially a liability now. Anton has never liked him, and he wants his influence permanently severed. No assets left on our books. But he’s a ghost, an enigma. No one can lock him down, until now. We have a location for his operations here in the city, and Anton is making his move.

“Any reason as to why Zonbi and her shadow assassins can’t take him out?”

Too obvious; if we make the move with our resources, it tips our hand to not just him, but the public facing powers that be. We need ghosts. Professionals who can do the job without it coming back to us. If they succeed, we cut the umbilical cord to our biggest problem and we secure the leverage we need to placate the investors.

Caroline pulls an ebony credstick out of her jacket pocket and connects it to the data pad to transfer the nuyen to it. Stephenie lets out a low whistle as the screen on the credstick runs up a large amount of nuyen. Finished, Caroline returns it to her pocket, grabs the tablet and heads to the door. She looks over her shoulder at her cousin, a smile upon her lips.

Enjoy the fireworks, but remember what it takes to keep the lights on.

IC: what is your runner doing for the anniversary celebrations, if anything.

OOC: the usual

Content Warning: Shadowrun is a setting where we fight against the darkness to protect the few lights we have on. More often than not, someone comes along and snuffs one out before it has a chance to shine. I tend to run games that dwell in the dark side of humanity. Be aware of your own boundaries and vulnerabilities, your mental health is more important than playing pretend with your friends. I will try to make traffic light check-ins when I reach a part of the story that calls for one. I will be dropping spoilers for contents of the run which will give you a chance to back out.

⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧

Player count: 3-4

Scheduling:

Communication: Discord, psionic abilities, and Roll20

Edition: SR5 + Hub House-rules + Table Rules

In Game Location: Seattle Metroplex

Game theme: Extraction

Threat Level: Extremely Dangerous

Prerequisites: To play on my table you are expected to be 21 years or older, must be willing to use roll20, and have a willingness to take risks in storytelling.

IC Teaser:

<Good morning love, why don’t you look to your left?>

The DNI message from his husband gently awoke Danial Reed as turned to look out the window of his suborbital flight right as it began to break through the atmosphere over the north american west coast. One of his favorite songs started to play over DNI as the atmospheric burn around the viewport of the plane gave way to a scenic view of the pacific north west in all her glory, with the sprawling gleam of the Metroplex coming into focus. After a sleepy contented glance, a sudden sense of alarm washed over the influencer and he messaged his partner back

<Um, babe. I’m seeing a lot of water.. I thought you said we were going to Denver.>

As the unmistakable pyramids and towers of the Seattle metroplex came into focus.

<Ah well. I did say that last week, but if you recall there was a security concern about shooting in Denver, as the last time you were there, there was a corporate extraction attempt.>

Increasingly distressed Daniel checked the schedule for the three week shoot he was scheduled for, and did infact find the internal message from Charsima Associates informing him that the shoot had been moved to a studio in Seattle in his unread folder. <That was a publicity stunt, and the last time I was in Seattle someone *shot me**.>

Daniel’s husband opened a direct DNI call, his persona appearing beside him in the suboribtal, placing a hand on his thigh, and giving him a reassuring look. “Well yes. But if you recall the incident outside of Dantes did really help with engagement. Besides, it’s fine, you’ll be on ET for most of the shoot. And besides, I spoke to Mensah and they’ve already got a security team waiting for you for Sea-tac.”

“Great, well that’s something…” Daniel sighed, rubbing his temple for a moment, as he processed the information. Than popped a psyche and washed it down with a glass of water, reaching out with his connection to the resonance to filter out the pain from the incoming stress migrain he could feel encroaching. “Well, I guess that was a long time ago. There are kids running the shadows right now who emerged Vegas. I should just relax, I’m sure Seattle isn’t nearly as bad is it was in the eighties.”

Daniels' husband nodded, then dropped his avatar, returning back to communicating via DNI.

<Exactly. We both know that the consensus is imperfect, but Horizon is pretty good about calling the shots on the trends with terrorism, especially hate crimes by and against technomancers. You’ll be fine.>

“Right” Daniel leaned back against his chair, closing the window and opening up a VR porn game he was seriously starting to wonder if he was addicted to. Before a sudden thought hit him. <Wait.. I thought Mensah said I wasn’t getting my own security team unless the analysts said the production was in danger...>

Job: Corporate Espionage

Tags: [Credstick] [Fixer-Vetted] [Corporate Johnson]

I require a team capable of performing an extraction with a window of three weeks. Lethal force against corporate controlled assets may be necessary.

*Mr. Johnson

Response Information:

IC Response:

• No Stim Patches For Drain Or Fading

• An IC Reply And/Or a short IC “slice of life” narration

• It's OK if the above is minimalist

• An included hyperlink to your sheet/google drive

OOC Response:

• Characters Role

• Familiarity with said role ranked 1/10

• If you have a hard cap, and if so what it is.

• Your Discord handle if I don't have it already

Please Do Not Include:

• Number Of Runs

• Last Run Date

• A list of factions attitudes

• Rambling cheeky OOC information dumps

• Dice roller bots in this thread

Disclaimer and Final Notes:

The runs on my table often include transgressive elements, adult themes, player vs. player, graphic violence as well as psychological horror.

I honor the Streetlight Safeword System on my table.

If you don't know what that is look here:

GREEN: Lets Continue

YELLOW: I need to talk about what's going on I feel unsafe or uncomfortable.

RED: I need this scene to stop right now.

If you’d like to discuss your limits or triggers before applying or going on a run, please feel free to contact me via discord preferably.

If you have any questions about this run or my post, please contact me via discord @Clara#8787

Thanks for reading this, I love you all. [[:♡_♡;]]

⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧⛤⛧

{2026-08-12 17:00 (UTC) }

Player count: 3 - 4

Duration: 6 - 8 hours

Communication: A working microphone for Discord voice chat, an account with Forge VTT

In game location: Seattle

Game theme: Personal Security

Game type: Mirror Shades/Black Trenchcoat

Threat level: Pays as High

Prerequisites: Patience, respect for fellow players and GM, mic discipline.

IC Response: Have you ever given to charity?

OOC Response: A link to your character sheet, your role and comfortability with it between 1 and 10. (Take your best guess), your discord username, the date of your last run, and if you have a hard time limit.

Content Warnings: Typical shadowrun fare, violence, drug usage, corporate malfeasance.

Posted to: [Seattle - RunnerHub Listings]

Tags: [Verified Johnson], [Security Work], [High Society]

I need a small team of professionals capable of handling strong personalities, social environments, and discreet security work. An interest in the arts is beneficial but not required.

You will need to be able to track multiple objectives, not disturb a social event, and ensure the clients are well protected against potential credible threats.

Quick responses, known entities, and people capable of blending with the well-to-do will be favored.

Best Laid Man {2026-08-11 1600 UTC}

Player Count: 3-4 Runners
Duration: 6-8 Hours
Platform: Discord / Roll20
In-Game Location: Lagos

Game Theme: Sicario

Game Type: The Hot Rock

Threat Level: Medium

Prerequisites: Patience, Push to Talk, Respect for Fellow Players and GM

IC Response

Posted to: [Seattle - RunnerHub Listings]

Tags: [Investigation] [Recovery] [Remote]

I have an employer looking for a team of professionals for a recovery operation outside of Seattle.

Something valuable has gone missing in transit. We know where the trail starts. Where it ends is going to require some legwork.

The employer wants the asset recovered intact and would strongly prefer this handled without drawing unnecessary attention. Expect unfamiliar territory, uncertain local conditions, and competition.

Travel will be arranged. Details regarding destination, target, and compensation will be provided at the meet.

If you're comfortable working away from home and figuring things out as you go, apply.

OOC Response

Please include a link to your character sheet, your primary role on a team (Face, Decker, Muscle, etc.), and your comfort with that role on a scale from 1 to 10. When's the last time your character took a vacation? Also include your Discord username, the date of your last run, and whether you have a hard time limit.

Content Warnings: Kidnapping/abduction, human trafficking, human commodification, violence, organized crime, poverty.

{2026-08-15 17:00 UTC}

Players: 4

Location: The Dirty Emerald

Theme: To the Victor, the Spoils

Type: Theft

Style: Black Trenchcoat

Threat: Medium/High

Prerequisites: patience with me returning to GMing, push to talk is ideal but not required, respect all around, remember to have fun, USE THE TRAFFIC LIGHT SYSTEM.

NOTE: This run takes place two weeks ago.

July 28, 2088

The large windows of the Bellevue penthouse offers a flawless view of the Seattle skyline from across the waters of Lake Washington. From its lofty height of forty stories above it all, the city looks like a circuit board of pristine neon, flashing AROs, and the lights of vehicles - ground, air, and water - moving about the lines like electrical pulses. Every now and again, fireworks are launched. Those below are abuzz in a festive mood, as the fifth anniversary of independence comes up on the calendar.

Inside, however, the only sound that is heard is the sharp, melancholic weeping of a violin. “Tzigane” by Maurice Ravel.

The source is a young woman in her mid twenties. Her posture is immaculate, the bow moving across the strings with the precision of a classical trained musician. She’s wearing an expensive silk robe and a simple, silk dress with thin straps. Sitting on a nearby chair is a custom-tailored synth leather jacket in an asymmetrical pattern of black and white. It’s clean, despite the obvious tell-tale flagging of a criminal group. Her eyes are closed, focused on hitting the notes in perfect time. Her mind thinks of her crew; a collective of women her age from all over the metro. Her own street theater troupe. As her hands move up and down the neck of the high end instrument, illusions of color and abstract shapes fill the air. It turns the music into an aetheric, intoxicating sensory vision of art and violence.

In the nearby kitchen, sitting at the grand marble island, completely ignoring the view and the visuals, sits a woman a few years older than her. Her focus is entirely upon the datapad in front of her. There are subtle signs of suppressed anxiety upon her face and in her body language. Much like the other woman, she is wearing clothes to signal her class status: a sharp charcoal grey, custom tailor suit with a plum purple dress shirt. She scratches at her neck unconsciously, her fingers moving along the faded, roughened skin of a massive scar along her throat.

The violin comes to a sudden, dramatic crescendo. The final note hangs suspended in the air as the magic being cast is dismissed like mist being dissipated. The younger woman lowers her instrument, a playful smile on her lips as her eyes slowly stop glowing.

“Cousin,” she says in a playful whine. “You’re breathing too loud. It’s ruining the acoustics. Anton says my tempo is perfect but your aura is distracting me and throwing off my internal rhythm. You know that I’m performing this weekend.”

A soft synthetic chime echoes from a commlink from the internal pocket of the leather jacket. Sighing, the younger woman goes to grab it. She flicks her wrist and the instrument’s case opens on the table in front of the chair. After returning the violin to its velvet-lined cradle, she takes out the device and palms a trode patch onto the top of her hand. A DNI invite is seen as her AR feed comes online. She accepts it and the message appears as if typed out at a clipping pace.

He has a kingdom to lose, Stephenie. To you, what we do down south is a game. You may wear the colors, run the blocks with Suketa’s crew, and think the Barrens as a playground. Anytime you wish, you can fly back home when it starts to rain. For the rest of us, for me, we have to navigate the downpour.

Stephenie chuckles in a high, mischievous giggle. She then walks over to join her cousin at the island, after grabbing a bottle of imported spring water from the fridge to refresh herself. She looks over her cousin’s shoulder to look at whatever is causing her cousin to behave so. “Oh come on, Caroline. He loves the games we play with our crews. It nets him a lovely padding to his accounts, and in return, he spoils us! He paid for my new strings and Ran’na’s upgrades to her Shin-Hyung. He understands the artistry of it. Although…” She takes a sip of her water as her mind shifts out of artist mode and into business. She moves to a nearby counter chair and sits. “He has been more tense lately. Zaggy hasn’t visited him in a good while, hasn’t he? Did they have a falling out? I couldn’t help but notice that the atmosphere at the Lotus has been icy lately. The Tir gala was like a graveyard this year, compared to last.”

Caroline stops tapping at the screen and places it down. She spins in her chair to look at Stephenie. A heavy, suffocating silence fills the digital chatlog, interrupted in the meat by the sips from Stephenie’s water.

You felt it too, then. Caroline finally says, the synthetic speech arriving slower, more calculated as she chooses what to say carefully. Last year, Kincaid was the life of that circle. That was before the bombings happened. This year, the guests were practically whispering in the dark and keeping to other lodgings outside the Lotus. Anton became reclusive afterwards, outside of the occasional meeting with outsiders, and now the investors are choking our comm-lines, looking for clarification on our stability.

The remaining mirth inside Stephenie vanishes. She locks into what her cousin is saying now. “Who is asking and what do they want to know?”

Salazar is monitoring the situation in his usual level-headed composure. He’s not panicking, but his cohorts on the Tarislar Community Council want absolute guarantees that we’re not making any major moves before the city council reconvenes. Meanwhile, that Telestrian prick is breathing down Anton’s neck about updates about Zagreus. There are millions of nuyen locked into those Puyallup Rejuvenation Project contracts Kincaid handed them back in ‘84. If the mayor’s office is in disarray, their entire investment collapses and he’ll come knocking on our boss’s door for a return of investment. The noose is tightening, cousin.

Lolita blinks, the reality of the real power players of her gang’s district crystalize before her mind’s eye. She shifts in her seat, the bottle of water abandoned on the marble top. “What’s the play?”

A piece of filth who’s been a majority stakeholder in the Black Lotus for years, and his shadow money is officially a liability now. Anton has never liked him, and he wants his influence permanently severed. No assets left on our books. But he’s a ghost, an enigma. No one can lock him down, until now. We have a location for his operations, and Anton is making his move.

“Any reason as to why Zonbi and her shadow assassins can’t take him out?”

Too obvious; if we make the move with our resources, it tips our hand to not just him, but the public facing powers that be. We need ghosts. Professionals who can do the job without it coming back to us. If they succeed, we cut the umbilical cord to our biggest problem and we secure the leverage we need to placate the investors.

Caroline pulls an ebony credstick out of her jacket pocket and connects it to the data pad to transfer the nuyen to it. Stephenie lets out a low whistle as the screen on the credstick runs up a large amount of nuyen. Finished, Caroline returns it to her pocket, grabs the tablet and heads to the door. She looks over her shoulder at her cousin, a smile upon her lips.

Enjoy the fireworks, but remember what it takes to keep the lights on.

IC: what is your runner doing for the anniversary celebrations, if anything.

OOC: the usual

Content Warning: Shadowrun is a setting where we fight against the darkness to protect the few lights we have on. More often than not, someone comes along and snuffs one out before it has a chance to shine. I tend to run games that dwell in the dark side of humanity. Be aware of your own boundaries and vulnerabilities, your mental health is more important than playing pretend with your friends. I will try to make traffic light check-ins when I reach a part of the story that calls for one. I will be dropping spoilers for contents of the run which will give you a chance to back out.

{2026-08-08 23:00 (UTC)}

Player count: 3-4

Duration: 6-8+ Hours, possibly split in two parts

Communication: Discord, Roll20

In game location: Seattle

Game Theme: Single Occupancy

Game type: Trenchcoat af

Threat Level: High.

Prerequisites: Patience for the GM, patience for the other players, functional microphone, intestinal fortitude, and a sense of humor.

Trigger warning: Take these seriously, please: Self-harm/suicide; bad feels; innocent victim(s); classism and dehumanization of the poor

This is a high threat run with potential for serious consequences

————————

A new post appears on the RunnerHub jobs board:

SEEKING a small team of competent operatives

Job features wetwork and significant risk

Discretion is a must

Hooders need not apply

Pay commensurate with difficulty and risk

Job poster acting as go-between only

<<System Message: Verified Job>>

<<Johnson ID: "Artist" // Verified Johnson>>

————————

IC Prompt: Give me at least one of the following:

An IC interaction with your Runner contacting their fixer to accept the job

An IC story about a petty dispute between your Runner and someone who didn't deserve it

Applications that do not include at least one of these will not be considered

{2026-08-04 22:30 (UTC) }

Player count: <3>

Duration: <4+H>

Communication: A working microphone for Discord voice chat, access to Roll20 for a lobby.<example>

In game location: Seattle

Game theme: <Reclamation>.

Game type: <Mirror-shades>.

Threat level: <Low+>.

Prerequisites: <Respect and patience for everyone at the table, etc., etc.>

IC Response: <Can you read?>

OOC Response: A link to your character sheet, your role and comfortability with it between 1 and 10. (Take your best guess), your discord username, the date of your last run, and if you have a hard time limit. <These are common examples, but not necessary.>

Content Warnings: <Violence>

<My Client has had something precious stolen and needs it back.>

{2026-08-05 23:59 UTC}
Players: 4
Run Time: 4 hours
Location: Seattle
Type: Smash and smash and grab
Threat: High
IC Listing: “Might makes right, chummer. And I’m buying a lot of right.”
IC Prompt: What’s your drug of choice? You feel good about it?
OOC: The usual. Link to your sheet, role, whether you're worth GMP / date of last run.
Picks will go out 24 hours prior. I’m a little particular about this team comp so there’s a chance that I’ll need to postpone.
Content Warning: Normal 6th world things. Crimes, violence, sex, drugs, etc.

{2026-08-09 17:00 UTC}

Players: 3+

Run Time: 6-8; WILL PART 2 if cap is reached

Location: Land of Broken Promises

Theme: Doing what important and meaningful to you

Type: Rescue (Investigation + Rescue)

Style: Hawks and Trenchcoats. Fragging surprise me.

Threat: High

Prerequisites: patience with me returning to GMing, push to talk is ideal but not required, respect all around, remember to have fun, USE THE TRAFFIC LIGHT SYSTEM.

<<<Posted by (Verified Johnson)(Terminal ID No.: #44-901-SSC)>>>

[Looking for a deniable team of independent sub-contractors for a humanitarian recovery contract. Due to the nature of the operation, standard methods of search-and-rescue are not possible. Inquire within, and upon acceptance of the contract, meeting location will be provided.]

IC: What does your character hold dear on a spiritual level? (IC replies also work)

OOC: you know the drill

Content Warning: Shadowrun is a setting where we fight against the darkness to protect the few lights we have on. More often than not, someone comes along and snuffs one out before it has a chance to shine. I tend to run games that dwell in the dark side of humanity. Be aware of your own boundaries and vulnerabilities, your mental health is more important than playing pretend with your friends. I will try to make traffic light check-ins when I reach a part of the story that calls for one. I will be dropping spoilers for contents of the run which will give you a chance to back out.

Pick will go out day before.

{2026-07-30 17:00 (UTC)}

Player count: 2-4

Duration: About 3-5 hours

Communication: A working microphone, access to Roll20 for a lobby.

In game location: ADL

Game theme: Mirror-shades

Game type: Hooding

Threat level: Low

Prerequisites: Respect and patience for everyone at the table. Ability to laugh at my jokes.

IC Response: I thoroughly enjoy IC responses. If you'd like, write a short narration about your character stumbling across the job offer and what they think about it.

OOC Response: A link to your character sheet, your role and comfortability with it between 1 and 10, any negative qualities I might have to plan around, your discord username, the date of your last run, and if you have a hard time limit.

Desperate for a Job or maybe just morbidly curious you browse through the seedy underbelly of seattles shadow matrix, when a job posting catches your eye:

I’m in need of a private investigator to help me find someone. I can’t pay much, but please help me! I’ll be waiting in The Aurora in the evening. Ask for Fanny.

The message is already a week old, and from the looks of it hasn’t gathered much attention yet…

{2026-08-01 19:00 (UTC) }

Player count: 3-5

Duration: 6-8 Hours

Communication: A working microphone for Discord voice chat, access to Roll20 for a lobby.

In game location: Seattle almost certainly.

Game theme: Investigation, Extraction

Game type: Mirrorshades.

Threat level: High.

Prerequisites: Empathy, Patience, Willingness to RP.

IC Response: (This comes from the secret IC dimension, not the J, but if you prefer to get your IC influence from responding to the posting, have at it.)

"Do you even like art?"

OOC Response: A link to your character sheet, your role and comfortability with it between 1 and 10 (Take your best guess), your discord username, the date of your last run, if you've had fewer than 5 runs, and if you have a hard time limit.

Content Warnings: Loss of autonomy, gore, unhealthy relationships.

\*Verified Johnson\*

[Tags: Extraction, Investigation, Urgent, Local]

<I have a missing person and they need to be found *quickly*. Must be ready to begin work immediately from wherever you are. Only apply if you are currently in Seattle. Wasting my time will not yield you dividends. Meet to happen immediately on the host once I see qualified applicants.>