May 30, 2024


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She has straight golden blonde hair in a severe pixie cut. Her hair tends to stand in odd tufts due to untidiness. Her nose is flat, small and straight, spattered with freckles across the bridge. Above the high cheekbones reside slightly slanted hazel eyes with short, straight lashes. There is an intelligent look in her eyes. She's kind of short, barely 5'3 when she's bothering with good posture, and rather thin, but well-muscled. She's small-breasted and wears a armored vest over an ordinary T-shirt, bearing the metallic arm boldly and the other pale, freckly arm just for the sake of contrast. She wears straight-legged black trousers tucked sloppily into combat boots, which are a size too large for her feet so she can keep her credsticks in there. Despite having features that would be pretty on any other person, her sour expression and hostile personality make her a lot less attractive.


Born on a frigid January day, with the given name Pirkitta Olzon. Her father, Mika Olzon, was a runner and hacker and sharpshooter known as Legend, and her mother was a homeless woman, Sharon Campbell-Cheng. Sharon had always been a sickly woman, and expired shortly after Pirkitta's birth from pneumonia. This left Legend with little to do with his progeny except to strap her to his back in a harness and take her on runs with him. Legend was never a believer in silencers, or safety equipment- resulting in Pirkitta's ears getting damaged beyond repair: Deaf as a stone within a year of her birth. When she was old enough to be left on her own for any period of time, Legend started going on runs without her, leaving her on street corners- the streets had always been the home for the Olzon family, and neither Legend or his daughter saw any reason to change it. Pirkitta never had many friends- few people around spoke ASL, or could parse meaning from her extremely slurred English.

Legend taught her everything he knew about the Matrix- it's ins and outs, the way it worked, how to hack in... And this soon became pretty much everything she knew.

When she was 10, Legend disappeared after going on a run. Pirkitta was alone- his sole progeny and heritor. She is unsure to this day whether or not Legend just got fed up with raising a disabled kid, whether he met some chick/bloke and decided that s/he was more important than his daughter (Legend was a bit of a player- he could disappear for long periods of time if he found an attractive woman or man to shack up with.), or if he'd been killed on the run or got his brain fried from running hot.

It was at this point she discovered her love for the old silent films of the 1920s. She'd sit in front of the windowsill of an ancient orc who shared her obsession, eating congealed ramen and half-drank soykaf, watching Chaplin, Keaton, Garbo and their peers go about their enchanting patterns. She loved the films: They were simple, they were convenient for her, they had things to say. He'd watch them like clockwork on friday evenings, and friday evenings were her favorite day of the week.

It wasn't long until she realized that whatever did become of her father, she didn't really give a damn. She had all the tools she needed, she just needed to refine them and make a way to live on her own. She was scrounging from trash cans for quite a while before she managed to worm her way into the upper levels of the King's Crimson, waiting until they needed a competent hacker, taking advantage of her large hazel eyes and age to soften the hearts of the hardest gangsters, and she soon convinced them to do her a huge favor- lend her the money she needed to get some serious cyberware.

She was twelve when a doctor surgically removed her arm, replacing it with an obvious cyberarm. Obvious was cheap, and not only that, she wanted everyone to know something had happened to her- but above all, she didn't want them to know what was wrong with her. She got a voice modulator installed to disguise her issues speaking. And lastly, she brought Charlie Chaplin, who became not only a lifeline to her, but also a friend. Charlie was an agent- a fairly good one too- he was composed mainly of LinguaSofts- intermediate levels English, Japanese, and German, but of course that wasn't all he could do. It's just what Pirkitta- who'd rechristened herself Myth at this- the dawn of her birth as a runner- ever did with Charlie. She liked doing things herself, and without involving guns. She hated guns. She really hated guns.

She began her work for the King's Crimson then as the local adolescent Matrix prodigy, doing low-level jobs delegated to her. She resolved to pay back her debt when she could, in good installments, but it grew more and more obvious as time went on that even with her low standards for living, it was all she could do to pay back the interest at any given time. She didn't want to do stuff any more dangerous than what she was doing. Which, in her opinion, was pretty damn dangerous. She tried to get some higher level work, but even with the experience and lineage, they didn't trust any important or notable jobs to her.

There was some arm twisting involved- both literally and figuratively- to get her debt paid soon. She'd put it off for ten years, managing to keep up with the interest payments- which were in her opinion astronomical, but worth being able to function in society. She was a girl who could live on 12 nuyen a month... But that was neither here nor there. She knew Aeris Tottle, and she knew he meant it when he said if she didn't pay for the arm and voice, he'd just take 'em back himself. So she started looking for runs.

God she hoped she'd find some good runners to hang with.


Myth is an ice queen with no defrost setting. Her tongue is as sharp and dangerous as her vibroknives, and she loves her vibroknives as much as she hates guns. She's very sarcastic and indirect about her deafness. Actually, she's sarcastic and indirect about everything, but especially her deafness. She doesn't like the idea of being helped with anything, and she's well attuned to her street lifestyle- she sleeps very comfortably in the sidecar of her motorcycle, Buster Keaton. She can get very nasty, very quickly, to the point that once challenged, getting her out of a fight is nigh impossible, despite which she has a very dominant survival instinct- thus the reason it took her 10 years and some arm twisting to warm to the idea of running. She's openly hostile to anybody who owns or operates firearms on a regular basis, and it'd take a emergency situation to get her to touch one. She's rather afraid of them, in actuality, but she likes playing tough. On the inside, she's just a frightened kid with a amazing poker face and the power of sarcasm.


"I don't speak fluent idiot, can you try to be more specific?"
(Mumbling of character's name) "Could you repeat that?" (Why) "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."