That pipe is the real hero.
Sure pipe-chan will let you down, but gently and with full consideration for your feelings.
Pipe-chan is out of your league.
Go chrome up, Motoko, but just don't forget a borg's natural enemy: fall damage.
Motoko frowned as she considered all the mistakes she made on that last gig. She did resist the urge to face palm at her past self.
But the most invasive thought on her mind was that she totally could have taken that bargain basement Neo if it hadn't been for one particular thing. Gravity.
If she had been isekai-ed to D&D or Pathfinder or a magical setting like that, she would just cast a spell and go right back into the fight. Unfortunately, this world doesn't have anything like a ring of feather falling, she mused. Or does it?
She started searching online. It took a bit of sneaking into secure netservers, but Motoko finally found out how anti-gravity worked. Magnets. Tiny, ultra-powerful magnets that, when activated in an exotic energy field, would endow a charge to the neutral gravitons. This enabled the gravity particles to be manipulated to counteract normal gravity.
Antigrav technology was still in its infancy so Motoko wouldn't be able to compress the technology down to jewlery size anytime soon. It would be like trying to make a Quadra using only a Model T as a starting point, but it would be difficult to make something more clunky and stupid than the frame from the anime.
Or so she had thought.
Motoko did learn the lesson about how long she thought a project would take to complete versus how long it actually took. Just take that estimated time and multiply it by pi. She still managed to go out with her chooms and live while constantly grinding her tech skill, but in the end she did make a discrete harness that she could wear under her coat.
Compared to how long it took to make, making a song from memory with her music box took less than an hour now.
"Ha! No more fall damage for me!" Motoko laughed, "Your move, gravity!"
Then she started the song and began to dance.
Less than a minute later, Jun walked into the apartment eager to hear his sister's new song.
He stopped and stared.
Motoko was dancing on the ceiling. And the walls too.
And then she saw him and stopped dancing.
She was still standing on the ceiling, just staring.
Jun cautiously stepped back out and slowly closed the door. He'd seen enough horror films that started this way.
Sure the Tinos probably had experts who could do exorcisms, he thought, but perhaps he may be able to ask his boss for a shrine maiden to give Motoko a once over or something?