rockerb0y

[rockerb0y]

[rockerb0y]

when a shirt is shared by two band members it’s like oh that thing has seen crazy sex. and when that shirt is shared by the whole band it’s like oh that thing has seen CRAZY sex

[rockerb0y]

     AMIDST counterpart's measured cadences was meek interruption nearly consumed, inaudible to his ear but not to her father's. conversational interlude established itself without plain-spoken cause as kerry receded from view into the hallway, occupying himself in the interim with a lengthy sip of beer and perusal of the coffee table's literary material. upon his friend's timely return with additional company in tow, however, the brief digressions shed their utility and abdicated the responsibility of his interest. despite his cognizance of the last couple years and earlier verification of her age, their re-acquaintanceship kindled incertitude and subsequently bemusement by her paternal resemblance — that which was even more identifiable than it had been in her infancy.

     so much of kerry could be seen in her, a softer echo of his likeness yet still uniquely her own.

     ❝  tryin' to tell me that you haven't been coaching her to say that ?  not sure if i buy it. gotta be that, or you're showin' her all the wrong pics of me. ❞ a disarming smile was paired with the quip as posture righted itself into an upright stand to better engage with them both, an attempt to present himself in a more affable light and ideally allay derry's timidity. ❝ fuck, she's gettin' big. must've grown at least five inches since i saw her last and looks even more like you than she did back then. sana's genes didn't stand a chance in hell. ❞

     a knowing shake of his head showcased disbelief before gaze flickered from father to daughter, broadening the scope of dialogue to include her and instill greater ease. a comfortable distance was maintained so she wouldn't be too unnerved, electing to embody a passive approach rather than impose his presence. as it was now, only repeated exposure could promote him from his plebeian status as a stranger and acclimate her to his attendance.

     ❝ were we being a little too loud, derry ? tried to tell your dad to simmer down but he doesn't always listen the way he should. think he was just excited to stay up past his bedtime too. ❞

It was probably the closest he'd get to praise for a while. And y'know what? He'd take it. Kerry wasn't cranky enough to take it poorly tonight, instead just grinning a little fondly and rolling his eyes at Johnny's expected remarks.

"Oh, how generous of you. As if you'll even draw a crowd nowadays. It's been a while, Silverhand. Who knows if the people even reme--"

"Itay?" The little voice had almost been inaudible beneath Kerry's own taunting, but Kerry himself hadn't missed it.

"Shit," he was quick to sigh out, setting his bottle down and picking himself up from the couch once again. "Just a sec, man," he'd supplement without an explanation, because he was sure it was unnecessary. Heading back behind them and toward a mostly dark hallway, Kerry approached the source of the voice.

He would reappear no more than a few seconds later with a familiar face settled in his arms.

Derry Eurodyne was the spitting image of her father. That had been clear ever since she was a baby. With dark hair and a face full of freckles, there really had been no doubt in the minds of Kerry's friends when they'd first met the tiny girl. Now at nearly 4 years old, those features were even clearer.

Her hair went down past her shoulders by that point, albeit it was definitely a mess from her having just woken up. Tired brown eyes stared at the relative stranger on her couch suspiciously, her little brows furrowing in confusion at the sight as one of her little hands toyed with the hem of her teal pajama shirt, while the other was out of sight but presumably had a death grip on her father.

"Guess we've got a guest. I thought you were out cold, Der-bear," Kerry hummed, deciding to stay standing for the time being.

"Remember Uncle Johnny, Derry? You saw the pics of him and Dad, right?"

"...Yeah."

"Wanna tell 'im hi?"

"No." Derry's abrupt, much quicker answer got a snort out of her father. Oh, toddlers. She always could get a good laugh out of him. Looking up to Johnny again finally as he stepped toward the couch, he'd shrug his shoulders.

"Well, guess that's that. Doesn't give a fuck that she's in the presence of the Johnny Silverhand."

[rockerb0y]

     ELEVATED  vantage point permitted both onlookers an unobstructed view of the obstreperous brawlers below, as catalyzed by a disputatious instigator. proximate advantage had impelled him to visit the other local venue, walking distance from the site of his own concert yet far enough to savour a smoke in its entirety prior to arrival. despite scanty exposure to the setlist, the boisterous verve of the audience was palpable enough for him to loiter after the performer's perfervid peroration and all too easily did he acclimate  to its atmosphere.

     ❝  spoken like a seasoned shit-disturber. ought'a be down there in the front line with the rest of 'em. scuff up your knuckles and take a hit, give one back. that's real reciprocity. ❞ stare strayed slow from the cacophony as 'ganic fingers twitched from protracted vacancy, presently unoccupied with a cigarette or drink. ❝ — or are you too worried that you'll chip a nail ? ❞

❛    oh, please, they're actin' like it's my fault they're bashin' each other's heads in.    ❜ if ki could stop smiling, maybe they'd look a little more remorseful, though the fact that they were hiding high above within the bannisters spoke volumes of their innocence. after all, it just so happened to be a coincidence that their concert became the sight of a brawl, right? surely nothing they could have said backstage to the one who threw the first punch triggered the entire thing from happening ... they have yet to stop smiling, even as they heard a man calling out their name in anger. ❛    they were polite enough to wait 'till the encore was done before they started goin' at it.    ❜

@rockerb0y , liked for a cyberpunk starter!

[rockerb0y]

[rockerb0y]

⚡    AT  HOME  WITH  THE  SILVERHANDS    –    ever  wonder  what  it’s  like  to  come  home  to  johnny  silverhand  himself?  pillow  talk  with  the  love  bot?    look  no  further  -  an  intimate  chat  with  night  city’s  lovebirds  is  here.        /    @rockerb0y.

[rockerb0y]

     ❝  applied at the ripe ol' age of fourteen, officially enrolled a few months later after i turned fifteen. happy birthday johnny, basic training starts at oh five hundred hours — hoo-fuckin'-ah. ❞

     the change in scenery from their derelict dwellings slightly mollified disgruntled temperament, entrenched in self-contempt for adolescent temerity but not lament. enlistment had marked the inception of a pivotal restructure and if not for robert linder's harrowing afflictions, johnny silverhand would have ceased to exist; every act of creation was first one of intensive destruction .

     ❝  sure those wonder years weren't peachy for you either. got the usual serving of adolescent angst, scattered showers with a high chance of teenage rebellion, and puberty bitchslappin' you when you least expect it — yada yada, but what else d'ya got for me ? what was fifteen-year-old v really going through back then ? ❞

     "𝐺𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑎 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑉. 𝑊𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦." - @rockerb0y

   A compliment followed by a rare invitation to dive deeper into the rocker's past. There were some memories Johnny kept locked away in the vault of his psyche. His time being a corporate puppet was one of those. V pressed her own lips together as the elevator doors opened to daylight. Her eyes squinted at the sudden change of light, lilac kiroshi lenses attempted to adjust to the brightness of the sun.

   ❝ How old were you when you joined? ❞  V asked him mentally, finally used to conversing with the relic within the confines of her own mind.

[rockerb0y]

Thanks for sexualizing peoples trauma fuckhead

anytime

[rockerb0y]

     NEVER had there been much allure to the quixotic concept of matrimony, ever deromanticized and condemned to irremediable sterility. formal certification neither empowered nor promoted one's commitment to the upper echelons of societally-standardized relationships. high divorce rates were symptomatic of lofty ideals fated to be splintered and heralded a widespread shift in marital perception; consequently, an  exultant  announcement of nuptials often educed his condolences in lieu of congratulations — an exorbitant  mistake not yet realized by the naïve newlyweds.

     what was once entertained as satire on impulsive intimacy in the screamsheets had now become an unvarnished truth, a testament to their fidelity and unflinching resilience against each other's foibles. in the realm of marriage, the possibility of separation didn't induce additional hesitancy or a fear of schism. the two of them were like-minded towards the notion of contractual obligation and they were similarly stubborn in their pursuit of fulfilled desire; a ruinous marriage, if nothing else, would amount to a new facet of their identities and an experience unique to them both. there were worse fates than being a doleful divorcée and for her, the designation would have been adorned proudly without regret.

@strnza: " eliza silverhand ... johnny kardel? - ... not sure which i like better. "

     ❝  what, not a fan of cecilia linder ? dunno, think it's sort'a quaint. has a certain ' american gothic ' groove to it — the painting, i mean. you know the one. ❞ necromantic reference to their former names was uttered teasingly, defined by a jocular lilt which betrayed any illusion of solemn suggestion. ❝ don't have'ta change our names if you're not into it either. wanna get hitched 'cause i like us like this, exactly how we are. only real difference is that we're gonna be sportin' some rings to make it loud 'n clear. already got the headline primed and ready: ' breaking news: night city's love bot is officially off the market ' — can almost hear all those hearts shatterin' to shit now. ❞

     a smile laden with smug satisfaction had already formed when chromed digits curled slow beneath her leg's underside, servos clicking in place to secure their new grip as it was pushed higher to bend at the knee. a chaste affection impressed upon inner thigh while lidded gaze searched for hers, stalled until the implicit condition was fulfilled; only then was another kiss bestowed below the navel, atop inked text and warmed by final verdict's breath.

          heaven sent, earth angel.

     ❝  eliza silverhand's got my vote, though. ❞

[rockerb0y]

CYBERPUNK 2077 | ▶ dev. CD Projekt RED

[rockerb0y]

[rockerb0y]

     ❝ blew out an amp a couple nights ago — sparked up 'n almost caught fire during  ' synergize '. kicked the whole show into  high gear but y'know, still gotta replace it. got a referral for the repair shop around the corner. ❞

     expeditiously had his leather boot moved to anchor itself in the door's path, keeping the entrance wedged open to deny closure in the midst of conversation. triumph forged a faint smirk as his acquaintance was detained for a little longer, imposing himself as both obstruction and negotiator. although the café's conspicuous signage insinuated rigidity, sixty seconds' worth of tardiness was at variance with the café's operating hours and stimulated expostulation; some leeway could surely have been granted for a paying customer.  

     ❝ since i was in the area, figured i'd grab a coffee for an afternoon pick-me-up. also had a shit sleep last night, same as you. ❞   lethargically were aviators removed to better hold her eye, dark circles no longer dissembled by their shaded overlay. ❝ five minutes, that's all i'm asking. i'll brew a cup myself and settle up, self-service style. could even fix you up one too while i'm at it. all that, plus a tip for the trouble. how 'bout it ? ❞

“working too hard can give you a heart attack .”

    ❝ So can drugs. ❞ She rebutted bluntly, with arms crossed over her chest. If Cassandra could have predicted that she would have ran into the rockstar multiple times, she would've called off from work or kicked ass as Spider-Zombie. In a city filled with millions of people, she sure seems to bump into the same people. ❝ I just didn't get that much sleep last night. ❞

   The off duty barista reached into her pocket to pull out a key and lock up the cafe. She spun back around to face the taller man.

    ❝ Didn't think I'd catch you in this part of town. Were you trying to grab a cup? Bad news for you, dude. You came a little late. Or, is it something else? ❞

[rockerb0y]

     ❝  suppose you'd know best, wouldn't you ? always workin' with a blank canvas. ❞  acceptance of the cigarette was married with a knowing glance, cherry's pulse throbbing in active indulgence. expurgation of one's identity as an occupational requisite was an ignoble encumbrance, regardless of the role's remuneration. ❝  so how do ya do it ? how do you stave off its collapse when you've got nothing of your own in there ? ❞

❝ your head'll collapse if there's nothing in it. ❞ she thinks she's pretty fucking funny, truth told. guess that's who she is today. funny jane, taking a drag from her cigarette and then - 'cause she's so sociable - offering it up.

@rockerb0y liked for jane : where is my mind? by pixies.

[rockerb0y]

Artist: George Michael

Track: Father Figure

Album: Faith

[rockerb0y]

     SEQUESTERED  in the shooting range and untouched by the lobby's scarlet fluorescents, their joint patronage alone obviated silence and unprofitability for japantown's barren gun gallery. v's industrious  work ethic had entailed a leisured interlude and a casual competition at the resident range presented itself as opportune recreation for them both. despite companion's tactical prowess and honed reflexes, however, the resultant victory against her didn't reap much gratification or further swell ego. the first intimations of her physical atrophy had been espied in passing and had once again provided a foreboding reminder of its active advancement; each passing day bettered him, and worsened her.

     ❝  why ? you wanna shoot like shit too ?  ❞   warmed iron was surrendered adjacent to hers as nose crinkled in exaggerated distaste at the creased currency, rebuffing reward with a forceful flick from chrome thumb and forefinger. persuasive performance aside, the sharpness in his stare had been rendered dull by stark solicitude. ❝  keep it. noticed that you kept the kid-gloves on and purposely missed a few. would actually be insulted if i didn't know that you were just tryin' to score some points with me — oldest trick in the date handbook. next time'll be double or nothing, no bullshit. deal ?  ❞

@rockerb0y ⛧ starter

"Your shooting is shit." A lie. He's good — better than she expected and improving. The sour remark comes from a place of being a sore loser. No true venom or malice. Hypocritical truly. Because even as she starts to lower the iconic pink pistol, her hands tremble; have been actually. They didn't use to. That's an occurrence onset within the last couple of weeks. Pistols and handguns, while truly not her specialty, had grown to become weapons she had mastered if not come very close to. Now though? Just holding position to fire practice rounds made her knuckles and wrist ache. It doesn't help she can feel a coughing fit brewing in her lungs.

With gun set down on the table infront of them, she pulls a couple of crumpled up eddies from her pocket. Eyes look up him as she goes to hand the cash over. Not before facetiously sticking her tongue out at him. "I guess though you won fair and square. Maybe you need to be giving me lessons." It's not him outdoing her that wounds her pride. It's how she's watched her skills deteriorate at a rate faster than she would have liked.

[rockerb0y]

“you fucking disappoint me”

[rockerb0y]

Nine Inch Nails - “Closer” Live Encore

From Kate Van Buren’s Youtube Channel