Archetype: Ork Snitch/Gossip

Not all snitches are created equal and many have found that, as long as they maintain the right candor, they not only become resources for runners, but are often clandestinely protected by them. Because the world needs people like Wacker. Well, ok, maybe not Wacker, because all he’s good for is knowing when the hottest new sim and BTL smut is going to hit the streets, often also knowing the sources for prerelease bootlegs of the features. It would be nice to say that Wacker got his data through creative manipulation and deft decking skills but, no. Wacker just spends and inordinate amount of time in the…uh…’release booths’ and knows a particular one that allows you to hear all of management’s conversations with the help of just a little hearing amp. So, well, if your run happens to involve the acquisition of porn, Wacker’s your guy. Just don’t shake his hand.


Archetype: Human Snitch/Gossip

A miscreant turned gang member turned runner turned back to a gang member and then turned, basically, into a nobody, Shackles knows a lot of people in prison and during his daily, sometimes hourly, visits garners useful information about who’s moving into prison and, more importantly, who is leaving. Many a gang, group, corp or other entity may want to take care of some loose ends as soon as a former ‘associate’ hits the streets. And Shackles earns a lot of money from selling this knowledge, living in an upper class apartment with heavy automated security. But aside from his big jobs, Shackles also likes just hanging out at a bar and selling bits and pieces of info at reduced prices, mainly because it’s the only way he can get anybody to have drink with him.

Monkey Suit

Archetype: Troll Snitch/Gossip/Decker

It’s not that Monkey Suit is a spectacular decker, she is just a master at combing through mountains of publicly available data to make startling accurate predictions about shifts in the upper echelon of the corporate world. And while he does have some more talented deckers on retainer to fill in the gaps, the final ‘report’ that Monkey Suit delivers is a profile so thorough, but purposely convoluted, that it’s hard to tell what’s deduced and what’s stolen. Monkey Suit is a loner, tied into the matrix almost 24/7 and uses her earnings to pay her deckers extremely well, as well as add another layer of titanium to the bunker she is building to survive ‘The Impending Corporate Apocalypse’, the signs of which she regularly hunts for in her spare time, although nothing has added up quite yet.

Duck Foot

Archetype: Dwarf Snitch/Gossip/Technomancer

Always seen with her oversized coat concealing most of her face, Duck Foot was born with an array of physical deformities that constantly require hospital stays to correct the fast growing boils, gashes and spurs that continually attempt to rip her body apart. Duck Foot earned her nickname from her flattened, oversized feet and she normally tries to keep her hands concealed as they suffer from a similar deformity. Her frequent trips soon became even more painful as she began to hear voices, echoes and static when she was around hospital personnel and equipment. After seeking advice from the matrix, Duck Foot realized the possibility that she might be a Technomancer, which is when things finally began to fall into place. Over time, Duck Foot learned from a seasoned ‘mancer how to capture and categorize what she ‘heard’ from computers, commlinks, and virtually everything else that wasn’t heavily encrypted. He also put her in touch with a secretive network that deals almost exclusively with medical data. Duck Foot contributes to this network, apparently unaware that the data is primarily used to steal bodies or parts that match a client’s needs or desires.


Archetype: Human Snitch/Gossip/Crazy Person

That crazy guy sitting in the park covered with pigeon shit and angrily droning on about how ‘the feds are gonna knock in our brick bottoms to take the stuff’? That’s Parrot. And everybody laughs and shoots him a few cred…and then 2 weeks later a basement lab is raided by the feds who entered through a brick  wall from an adjacent building. So Parrot knows shit. Lots of shit. Just hard to pick out what’s not shit from the shit. At some point in his unknown past, Parrot was given sensory upgrades – ALL OF THEM. Long story short, it caused him to lose what was once a rather complicated and intelligent mind (and, maybe, secretly still is) and the corp responsible simply dumped him on the street. Parrot doesn’t even stop talking in his sleep, belting out rhymes, imagery and platitudes that must mean something, and usually does in sometimes catastrophic retrospect.