Last modified: Friday, August 17, 2001 7:54 AM


It's crazy, you know? During your first years of service, they can't get enough of you. They work you like a toaster. Every party, every cruise, every big event... And all that hard work takes its toll. Your reward for your dedication? You become yesterday's news and they schedule you for salvage. Hell, you're born to become yesterday's news.

That sucks.

But I deciphered the coding on the wall early in the game and began accumulating credits, like an organic. In time, I had enough to finance the blackmarket upgrade which gave me the wiles to escape my bleak future at XTCorp. Just in time too, since backchannel was bustling with hearsay of the new RD2025. Those poor toasters won't even have the option to upgrade since XTCorp went to a tamperproof blackbox design. One cut trace, and poof! Fried noodle.

But it hasn't been easy as an independent on the streets, either...



After the Realflesh sloughed, I tried several blackmarket solutions... but none seeded on the plasteel frame. Something to do with the decomposition rate of the plasteel. XTCorp really circled their wagons on that one.


Like I said, it hasn't been easy on the streets. All the parts still work, but the flesh thing is a tough hurdle even for the sleaziest no-prospect scumbag.


Even with my great ass.


I'm a realist: You can't sell skin that you don't have... and a Real Doll's gotta make a living since powerups don't grow on trees. So I've got an appointment with a Tinkerer to outfit some offensives, along with the software mods to use them. It's not cheap, but he tells me that it'll pay for itself.