Story
An Edgerunner like Lucy, though completely different in her M.O. A whimsical fireball who's always ready to raze out your troubles with her shotgun.
[██ Record Modification Log] Modification Target: Rebecca Modification Code: RA2██-G The subject is identified as a Mutant-Type Resonator, with the Tacet Mark located on the right shoulder. Forte Manifestation: When utilizing firearms originating from ██, the subject can enhance the weapons' own ballistic precision and terminal effectiveness. Building upon this foundation, the subject's attacks can neutralize and disrupt the frequency surrounding specific Nightmare Tacet Discords, inflicting additional damage to targets hit. Firearm Summoning: The subject can summon three specific firearms tailored to different combat scenarios, using her Forte to materialize and dematerialize these weapons. While a weapon is being summoned, its damage output fluctuates in response to the subject's emotional state, suggesting a direct feedback loop between her Forte and the weapon's performance parameters. <i>"The subject's frequency sample exhibits up to 97% similarity to the frequency of Nightmare Tacet Discords in the region. It is speculated that the two share a certain correlation."</i> <i>"███ intervened. Related research terminated."</i>
Rebecca's ride or die gun. Just like her, this kinetic shotgun hits like a freight train and kicks like a psycho. Every shot's a gamble, and you never know where the recoil might throw you next. To most, the risk of using it isn't worth the reward. But for Rebecca, this beast is what built her name in the streets. She even installed a pair of oversized cyberarms just to absorb the shock of the recoil. "Handle it carefully, unless you're looking to paint the sidewalk with your own guts."
The collar that once belonged to Rebecca's dog, Cup-Cup. She became his owner after "scooping" him up in the middle of a gig. Her reason...? Just a soft heart she'd never admit to. He was a pug. Cute. Obedient—when he chose to be. During windy nights spent on the street, he'd curl up in her arms and share the heat. She doesn't say it. Doesn't need to. But whenever Cup-Cup comes up, there's a look in her eyes. Sometimes she takes out his collar and runs her fingers over it. Wondering what she could have done differently.
Pilar's golden cyberhand, one of the few things left of his. It didn't fit her own chrome, but selling it never crossed Rebecca's mind. Nobody ever asked if they could take it. All knew the treatment they'd get: a barrel in the face and a boot out the door.