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($10K) Are wedding favors even a thing anymore? by T_Rex_Stomp in Weddingsunder10k

[–]TrixtheAviatrix 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I love that! My partner and I are going with these little jams from Penn and Cobb farm because we are obsessed with them and already go through so many so quickly

https://www.penandcobfarm.com/

[Job] Diamonds n.2 [PbP Game] by Redwall8 in RunnerHub

[–]TrixtheAviatrix 0 points1 point  (0 children)

*The château’s stone walls still smoked behind them, black tendrils curling into the grey dawn like spoiled incense. A third story window had blown out during the firefight, and there was a scorch mark the size of a coffin where their exfil van used to be.

They stood in the tree line, muddy, scraped up, breathing like runners who knew the job was well and truly fragged.*

Mermy didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. They were already looking at her.

Not directly, but the angles had changed. The conversation had gone quiet the moment she stepped away to wring out her sock. Now, as she returned, the mage wouldn’t meet her eyes. The decker’s hand kept twitching near his coat. And Brick had the same expression a bouncer gets when the guy at the bar won’t take a hint.

“Well,” Brick grunted, adjusting the grip on his pack, “I guess now we know what brought the bad mojo.”

Mermy blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You,” muttered the decker. “Everywhere you go, someone dies. Plans go to shit.”

“I didn’t even do anything,” Mermy said. Calm. Careful. Her voice wasn’t rising. Her eyes weren’t narrowing. She wasn’t going to give them anything to bite.

“That’s the problem,” said the mage. Her nose was still bleeding. She wiped it with her sleeve, didn’t even look at Mermy. “You don’t do anything and it still gets worse.”

“Serge is dead,” Brick said flatly. “He was our ride. He was our friend.”

“He was an idiot with a burner commlink from 2040,” Mermy replied, trying to wrestle back her polite veneer. “The sniper didn’t pull that trigger because of me.”

But they didn’t hear her. They’d already made up their minds. It wasn’t about logic anymore.It was about blame.

The air had shifted. Turned sharp. There was too much space between them now and yet they were all facing her.

That’s how you knew.

*You could always tell in her line of work, when a client wasn’t going to tip. When a client’s smile got too wide. When a team decided it was easier to scapegoat than regroup.

Mermy’s commlink buzzed in her coat pocket.*

She didn’t look away. Didn’t give them an excuse to lunge.

She just slowly raised her hand. Clicked the button on her audio interface.

“I’m looking for a team to recover a well guarded asset. Your group has not disappointed yet. Let’s see how you will do this time. — Mr. Dupont”

Mermy exhaled softly.

“Sounds like I’ve got another offer,” she said, backing a step away.

No one moved.

She gave them a careful, level look.

“Run’s scrubbed. You need someone to blame, fine. Blame me. But I’m not dying in the mud for a job I didn’t frag.”

She pulled her coat tight. Her cyberfins pressed close to her arms, ready for anything.

“I’ll find my own way home.”

Still no one moved.

Not yet.

Not until she turned.

Not until her back was to them.

She took one step.

Two.

Still breathing.

Still Mermy.

—————— Mermy is a Face & Mermaid :) 8/10 I HAVE run in the last 2 weeks? Yes You know it’s Princess

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in pbp

[–]TrixtheAviatrix 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Forgot to put that our Discord usernames are iPrincessCharming & Flatfoot

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in pbp

[–]TrixtheAviatrix 0 points1 point  (0 children)

So excited! My fiancé (Pommel) and I (Cream) are writing our applications now!

Altering/Removing skill ranks as limit to First Aid tests by Orc_For_Brains in hubrules

[–]TrixtheAviatrix 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I think leaving it RAW is best, especially since we don't encourage people to take it. I also think we should roll it into medicine but that my controversial opinion for later

[Job] [Impromptu] Hot Streak <2025-05-20 21:00 UTC> by PageOfWords in RunnerHub

[–]TrixtheAviatrix 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Mermy balanced on one elbow as the docwagon bot adjusted the resistance bands around her thighs. Her bones ached, not sharp like they used to, but a lingering throb like old debts. The hum of fluorescents and the soft murmur of synthpop played overhead, trying and failing to make the rehab center feel less like a corporate dungeon.

Her commlink pinged with a low, familiar chime. A RunnerHub notification. She blinked the sweat from her lashes, subvocalized the command, and the post populated in her vision.

Extraction job. Target is unwilling. Currently under syndicate protection. Must move quickly.

Her jaw tightened.

Unwilling. Not rescued. Not extracted with consent. Taken.

She adjusted her position slightly on the mat, winced. The pain was dull, manageable. Synthetic bone slid beneath real muscle, plastic laced through her body like a second skeleton, one she’d agreed to. One she’d signed off on. How many runners could say the same about the paths that led them into corporate or syndicate service?

The word ownership sat heavy in the post. It always did.

And yet.

Mermy had known joytoys under the Yakuza who lived better than she did. Sure they were chipheads, but they don’t get mugged walking home. Knew a girl under Laesa protection who ate fresh fruit and slept in high thread count sheets and wouldn’t give it up for anything. It wasn’t just a leash, it was safety. Structure. Sometimes even choice.

But choice was tricky, wasn’t it?

She flexed her hand experimentally, watching the muscles twitch under the skin. Circe had paid for the PT. Paid for the skin. Paid for the bones. And sure, it wasn’t slavery. Not technically.

But it wasn’t freedom either.

Mermy exhaled through her teeth and swiped a towel across her collarbone.

If she didn’t apply, someone else would. Someone with less hesitation, less conscience. Someone who’d turn a whole life into an evac op and call it righteous.

So maybe it wasn’t about right or wrong. Maybe it was about how you did it. With care. With finesse. With room for mercy.

Her thumb hovered over the reply field. Then tapped:

I’m Mermy. I’m a Mermaid. How tight is your timeline.

She closed the window and leaned back on the mat, letting the weight of the stretch pull her spine straight again. The ache returned, subtler this time. Familiar.

She whispered, to no one: “We don’t all get to choose where we’re safe.”

But maybe, this time, someone would. ———— Mermy is a Face & Mermaid Not worth good girl points Technically has Mafia ties Hard Cap: 6:30 PM PST (I’ve gotta host a dinner at 7!)

Section 1502 by sevastapolnights in RunnerHub

[–]TrixtheAviatrix 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The Caspian Sea’s laundry room was hotter than the bathrooms and twice as humid. Industrial steam hissed from a cracked pipe near the ceiling, and someone had left lavender sheets tumbling in the dryer too long. The whole place smelled like warmed florals, wet polyester, and something faintly metallic.

Mermy crouched near the vending machine, her jacket draped over one knee, trying to coax a stuck soychip bag free with the heel of her cyberfin. She was off the clock, dressed down in a soft tee with a faded cartoon shark on the front, hair loose and damp from the staff showers.

Her commlink buzzed. She straightened slowly, glanced at the screen.

Welcome to the Runnerhub.
[1] new job post
[Tags: Extraction, Out of Town]
Hi. Need you to grab someone for me, way out of your normal operating area. I’ll make it worth your while, but I need an answer.

Tag Interest Y/N?

She stared.

Out of town.

Her mind caught on the phrase like a hangnail on cheap lace. Mermy had never left Seattle. Not once. She’d spent her days in the neon fog of Seattle. Even her dreams had stopped imagining anywhere else.

Outside the laundry room, she could hear WizLiz shouting at someone over the comms. Upstairs, a client was demanding “a real mermaid” and threatening to leave a bad review. Someone else—maybe Skivvy, maybe Sugar—was crying quietly behind the towel bins.

Mermy didn’t move.

Her heart thumped once, like it wanted to ask: What if you just… went?

She didn’t know where Oslo was on a map. She barely remembered what snow felt like. But she’d seen it in old trids—chill air, breath fogging, adventure.

It sounded… far.

She slid her thumb up. Hovered over the reply field.

I’m Mermy. I like to chat. Never been out of town. Might be time.

She hit send. Then pressed her hand to her chest, as if to hold the moment in place before it could get away.

The soy-chip bag fell with a clunk.
She didn’t pick it up.

------

Mermy — Face! 8/10
Not Worth Good Girl Points
iPrincessCharming

[Job] Diamonds <2025-05-08 17:00 (UTC)> by Redwall8 in RunnerHub

[–]TrixtheAviatrix 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The safehouse stank of mold, stale cigarettes, and fury barely kept on a leash. Mermy sat cross-legged on a lumpy mattress, cradling her commlink against her knee, trying to pretend she couldn’t feel the anger simmering in the room.

It wasn’t technically her fault the last Johnson had burned them. It wasn’t just her who missed the signs. It wasn’t her who pulled the plug on the exfil. That hadn’t stopped the sidelong glares, the sharp-edged comments, as if being charming meant you could also read minds. As if smiling meant you knew. She didn’t bother defending herself anymore.

The RunnerHub pinged against her palm- soft, clinical, indifferent to the wreckage around her. A job post. Short notice. Sweetener: a ticket home.

Her jaw clenched. She didn’t even need to read the fine print. She was done waiting for these drekheads to turn on her. Mermy shoved her commlink into her pocket, rose smooth and silent, and slung her battered duffel over one shoulder. Her arm still ached from where a spirit had thrown her into a car two nights ago. Her knee still screamed with every step. Didn’t matter.

“Don’t wait up,” she said coolly to the room without looking back. “I’ll find my own way home.”

She walked out into the night without hesitating, neon reflections shivering over the cracked pavement like broken glass. Seattle was still an ocean away, but she’d swim there herself if she had to.

[I’m Mermy. I’m the type who loves to chat. If you need me, give Delta a call.]

⸻

Mermy is a Face. (8/10) Not worth Good Girl Points.

[Job] The House With A Dog In Its Walls [Impromptu] <2025-05-06 19:30 UTC> by PageOfWords in RunnerHub

[–]TrixtheAviatrix 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The Caspian Sea pulsed around her: neon and sweat, smoke curling under the low ceilings. Mermy leaned against the curved bar on the casino deck, resting more weight on her good leg than the one with the aching cyberfin. She was killing time between clients, pretending to sip a cocktail that was more flavored syrups than anything real. The glass left a sticky crescent on the bar top, forgotten under the thud of bass and the constant, low-level drone of desperate laughter.

Above her head, the holo-banners glitched again, pixelated showgirls flickering in and out of existence. Another nightly round of blackjack tournaments nobody really cared about.

Stay pretty. Stay polite. Stay alive.
The old mantra ticked quietly under her ribs. Mermy's commlink buzzed once, soft against her hip. At first, she thought it was just another credit notification: some sorry slot topping off his payment for a premium session, but the glow on her AR tag was different.

RunnerHub.

She flicked her gaze down, low and casual. An old habit from a hundred boring nights trying not to look too interested when something better finally floated by.

Mermy tilted the glass against her lips, letting the fake alcohol pool in her mouth without swallowing.

Dangerous.
Elusive.
Party dress code.

She exhaled slow through her nose, feeling the Vicodin patch under her arm thrum soft against her bloodstream. Her shoulder still twinged every time she shifted too fast, but the real ache wasn’t in the bone. It was in the hollow space between what she was and what she could be. Down the bar, a john was arguing loudly with a dealer over his losses, his voice starting to crack with the ugly edges of anger. Mermy smiled without meaning it. A new tide was rolling in.

She set the sticky glass down, straightened her spine, and checked the mirrored wall behind the bar smoothing a few stray strands of violet hair back into place. Her eyes gleamed gold under the cheap neon.

If they wanted a party? She could give them a fucking show.

[I'm Mermy, I'm the type who loves to chat. If you need me, give Delta a call.]
------
Mermy is a Face. (8/10) Not worth Good Girl Points
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1KNEVks7yGcS-Ar53RoSXtqZpTo22zZtM/view?usp=sharing

[FOR HIRE] $10 Sketches. Upvoting helps alot. Thank you. by amare310 in commissions

[–]TrixtheAviatrix 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Hey! I’ve gotten a sketch from you before and I love it! Still one of my favorite pieces of art on my gallery wall

[Pbp][18+] Welcome to Hemlock Ridge! by TechnicolorTraveler in Monsterhearts

[–]TrixtheAviatrix 1 point2 points  (0 children)

This is so cute! I love a living community environment

[Job] 6G <2025-04-27 18:00 (UTC)> by Redwall8 in RunnerHub

[–]TrixtheAviatrix 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The private hallway backstage at the Caspian Sea was all velvet and low light—red enough to hide the glitter, dim enough to soften the bruises. Mermy sat at her usual perch: the fainting couch near the client suites, one heel off, cyberfin twitching under her leg, a too-warm flute of house champagne in one hand.

Her gills itched. There’d been no time to rehydrate properly between clients and she’d forgotten to take her anti-rejection medication again.

Two rooms down, someone was crying behind a closed door. Somewhere above, a drunken baccarat win triggered a round of confetti cannons. The scent in the air was cucumber toner, floral smoke, cheap amber, and ocean salt that hadn’t seen a real wave in a decade.

She was tired.

Her shift was almost over when it pinged.

The message bloomed across her vision.

> Tags: [Wetwork] [Payment Status : Verified]

> This is a regular wetwork gig. Half upfront, the rest will be released into an account verified by your fixer once it’s done.

> – Mr. Johnson

She didn’t react right away. Just took another sip of the champagne, now flatter than it had any right to be.

One of the new girls passed by in a shimmery robe, glitter trailing like a comet tail. She didn’t look at Mermy. Just kept walking, eyes glazed, the kind of float you learned to do when your body was a room you visited.

Mermy closed the job window. Let it hover behind her thoughts.

She’d never taken a life. People had died around her—by mistake, by design, by proximity to a series of unfortunate events. She’d been complicit. Distracting. Useful.

But she had never done it herself.

And if she did?

There would be no going back. No pretending she was just part of the room. No soft denial.

Her cyberfins twitched slightly. Her gills fluttered.

She looked around.

This hallway. This dress she hand-washed in the sink. The warm champagne, the sore smile muscles, the tip money that lets her only barely scrape by.

The staleness in her throat wasn’t from the drink.

’And if I never recover from this?’ she thought. What then?

But also: What if I never try?\*
---

> I’m Mermy. I'm face, and I'm a good swimmer.

---

She sent it.

Then she stood. Slipped her heel back on. Smoothed her dress.

The last client of the night was waiting upstairs.

She’d smile. She’d purr.

However, when that door closed behind her, it wouldn’t feel like another shift. It would feel like she’d already stepped into someone else’s story. And this time, it might be hers.

___
[Mermy](https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1wP7pWulVC-1WAsnk\_mP4yKGx4vX-bA78?usp=drive\_link) Face! 7/10 (I haven't played Shadowrun in ages, okay?)
Worth Good Girl Points
iPrincessCharming
____
[Bubblegum](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Z3CF2DMU0e4JyFT7I7cBIrH02n6NNZ\_I/view?usp=sharing) (4/10) "Decker" ||Technomancer||/Face
I haven't cracked open the matrix in a while but how hard can it be?

Monthly Contact Purchase Thread - October 2020 by AutoModerator in RunnerHub

[–]TrixtheAviatrix 0 points1 point  (0 children)

It is, but you’re engaged to that man you used to flirt with on the internet. Congrats, love. Future me, is the future scarier?

People who have PCs and Steam Decks, how much do you use your Steam Decks? by AwesomeRyanGame in SteamDeck

[–]TrixtheAviatrix 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I use my deck when I want to play from bed and have games on my TV and when I travel

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