206. When your character rolls dice, roll twice and choose the result closest to 7 to determine the result.
207. Your implant itches whenever you are near someone of the same species as the previous owner.
208. You are not in complete control of your implant. Once per day, the GM may make the implant act independently.
209. Your body rejects the implant over time. Once per week, make a dc 10+item level fortitude save or progress 1 step on the physical disease track.
210. Your implant contains experimental temporal technology. At the start of each week, roll a d20 and record the result. For the duration of the week, you may substitute any roll that involves that body part or implant for the result you wrote down. (eyes=perception/saves against gaze attacks, hands=attack rolls, etc.)
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211. Your implant doesn't like you. Or your body doesn't like it. Hard to tell which, but every morning you wake up with it resting near you, having crawled out/fallen off/been expelled from your body. You can push it back into place, and it works normally for the remainder of the day, but anytime you are unconscious or immobile for more than an hour, it's out and making a mad dash for freedom again (at a blistering 5 cm / hour movement rate...).
212. You keep getting threatening emails and phone calls from debt collectors for debts you never made.
213. If you don't concentrate on the finger, gripping between fingers and thumb doesn't include the little finger, so it sticks out straight and is noticeable.
214. Anti-grav implants always kick in when falling, preventing damage, but always unpredictably cut off in the last few feet, requiring a DC 15 Acrobatics check or lose your next move action.
214a. Sometimes, the anti-grav implants don't think you've landed yet, so the upward force confuses your instinctive motor functions. So you still have to make a DC 15 Acrobatics check or lose your next move action as it takes a few seconds to realise its mistake and switch off.
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This thread needs to come back.
215. The cyberware was created by a perhaps-eccentric sort with respect to bodily functions. Every time you sneeze or cough or fart, an incredibly polite robotic voice somewhat loudly begs pardon for the offence in several languages.
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216: The implant has ad ware that pops up right in front of your eyes, usually while you're trying to do something important like duck a bullet.
216: The implant has ad ware that pops up right in front of your eyes, usually while you're trying to do something important like duck a bullet.
True nightmare fuel.
217: The implant was made by a prude, and the user sees black bars over anything it considers licentious
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218: The implant's provenance remains a mystery, but from time to time it's utterances and interjections into your consciousness would lead you to believe it was recycled from a brilliant but depressed android. On the plus side, you do find it's distinctive voice to be mellifluous and soothing, even while it's complaining.
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219. The cyberware only activates if you shout a passphrase in a language you are not adept in. Once in a heated battle, you shouted the code word and a person who spoke the language on the your side busted out laughing, despite the situation. You were able to win the day, but you have discovered from your cohort that you have been shouting something incredibly inappropriate and inaccurate about your genitalia the entire time.
Player picks the language, DM picks what is actually said.
205. You have a phantom 3rd (or 5th) limb. And it's always itching.
221. Your new senseware implant has a glitch where you periodically hallucinate that another creature near you is itchy, but you are the one that feels it. It would be such a relief to your central nervous system if you could just gently scratch that itch for them. It would polite to get consent first, but if you ask and they say no... you're left still feeling the itch you can't scratch.
Persistently.
Maddeningly.
Itchy.
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222. The former owner of this cyberlimb was a very lonely fellow, as he implanted an AI named for his long lost wife in it- and it has elements of her personality too. The cyber doc knew nothing of this, and is very apologetic for having grafted a mourning, uncooperative weapon arm to you that you must cajole into working every day, even for mundane tasks. It starts off with an attitude of unfriendly, and must be improved to indifferent before it will work for you in a mundane sense or helpful if you want it to use its innate weaponry in a fight.
You can also get to know your new limb, who refers to itself as Mrs. (Insert name of last user here) despite actually being named (insert AI name here). It will take time to get on her good side, but making sure the arm is dressed in mourning silks and black lace(regardless of your own machismo) would be a good start, dropping your smoking habit(they almost killed her ex husband; she will reach out to grab and destroy and cigarette or cigar within range, and you have woken up covered in the remains of your beloved smokes before) would be an even better one, and helping her to hunt down the man who killed her husband would be best of all. Right now all she has is the name of the ship the killer got away on but it is better than nothing...
223. The good news? You now have free Ultra box holonet access. 1 Million channels available all the time. The bad news? It's in your eyes.
224. Your limb was designed for a person of a different size or species. If an arm, it's slightly too long or too short, or has more or fewer joints than you're used to. If a leg, it makes you limp.