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[orphiceonian]

“You Might Think” by The Cars is soooooo AU SilverV where they meet during the Samurai days. V is a roadie with the band and over the course of the first tour she and Johnny fall in love much to the chagrin of the rest of the band.

V is tech and security (and sometimes aggressive problem solver) with the band and the bands publicist snaps a cheeky pic of her on stage with her tour jacket and headset on as the crew is setting up for the gig. It has its moment online and fans are desperate to know who the pink haired techie is.

Johnny’s fuckboy tendencies being well known and V doesn’t let him off the hook easily. They share a few glances but that’s all.

Until one night after a show somewhere in the NUSA when Johnny notices her walking home in the rain and offers her a lift back to the hotel (song “Drive” also by the cars) V is hesitant because she’s a) too proud to accept help and b) aware of Johnny and his rep. But she lets him and they go for a rainy night drive together. They chat about the tour, argue about the music on the radio and share a smoke. Nothing happens but fuck are they desperate for one another.

Both of them know that whatever happens between them wouldn’t last. They both still have some growing up to do.

I’m about to start writing another au aren’t I?

[morgan-va]

Chapter 28: Home (Serial Designation V x Reader)

Masterlist

You walk alongside N and V through the dimly lit hall, the echo of your steps the only thing filling the silence between you. V stretches her arms behind her head, looking particularly unbothered, while N walks with his usual chipper bounce, his hands swinging by his sides. You, on the other hand, can’t shake the unease curling in your circuits. 

Uzi is waiting outside her door when you arrive, arms crossed, her impatient glare already locked onto the three of you. "Finally," she groans, stepping aside. "Get in."

 N marches inside without hesitation, and V follows after, pausing only to glance at you before disappearing into Uzi’s bedroom. Just as you're about to step in, Uzi suddenly plants a hand against your chest, stopping you in your tracks. 

"Come with me. We need to grab some stuff." 

You blink at her, confused, but before you can ask what she means, V pokes her head back out. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, why does Techie have to go with you?" she asks, narrowing her glowing yellow eyes. 

You wave her off, offering a reassuring nod. "It’s fine. I’ll be back in a second." 

V lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes before pulling her head back inside. Uzi waits for the door to fully slide shut before she motions for you to follow. 

She leads you down the hall and into a small closet, barely lit by a single flickering bulb. Boxes are stacked haphazardly along the walls, their labels either scratched out or barely legible under layers of dust. Uzi kneels, shoving one aside and yanking open another. She rummages through it for a moment before pulling out a bundle of tangled wiring. 

You watch in silence as she untangles a few strands, her movements methodical, precise. Then, without looking up, she whispers, "I think I’ve figured it out." 

You frown. "Figured what out?" 

She grips the wiring tighter before finally looking up at you, her expression unreadable. "The secret to everything that’s been happening? It’s in them. In their memories." 

You blink. "You mean N and V’s memories?" 

She nods, her voice lowering even more. "Yeah. I think something, or someone, has been messing with them. And I’m gonna make them relive it all to find out what." 

You stare at her. "You’re gonna what?" 

She huffs. "I mean, if they want to, of course. But I’ll be persuasive!" she adds quickly, waving a hand. "But that’s where you come in. I need someone to help me monitor what’s going on while we’re in there. Think of it like being an admin in a Bitcord server, but real life." 

You tilt your head. "What’s Bitcord?" 

Uzi groans, pressing her fingers to her forehead. "Ugh. Of course you wouldn’t know. Forget it, normie. Look, just trust me on this. You in or what?"

You hesitate, but ultimately, there’s no other leads. If Uzi’s right, if there’s something buried in N and V’s memories that could explain what’s going on, then it’s worth looking into. And, maybe, just maybe, she could help you with your own lost memories once this is over.

"Fine," you say, crossing your arms. "I’m in."

Uzi’s grin is quick and sharp. "Knew you’d see it my way."

With the bundle of wiring slung over her shoulder, she leads you back to her room. The door hisses open, revealing N and V rummaging through her things. N, completely innocent, simply tilts his head at a broken snow globe he found on her desk. V, however, is holding up one of Uzi’s sweaters like it’s the most disgusting thing she’s ever touched.

"Wow. You have worse taste than I thought," V mutters, flicking lint off her claws.

"Drop it," Uzi snaps.

V raises a brow but tosses the sweater back onto the bed. N, meanwhile, sets the snowglobe down with careful precision, giving Uzi an apologetic look. "Uh, sorry! We were just—"

Uzi doesn’t give him time to finish. She raises a glowing hand, and suddenly, both N and V are yanked to the floor with a metallic thud, their bodies locking in place.

"What the hell, Uzi?!" V snarls, struggling against her restraints.

N lets out a startled yelp, blinking rapidly. "W-Whoa! Careful! Last time I hit my head that hard I forgot what I was uh… uhhh.."

"Relax," Uzi says, her voice calm. "You’ll be fine."

The cables she brought twist and coil in her grip, slithering toward the struggling Disassembly Drones and her computer. The second they make contact, N and V freeze. Their optics flicker wildly before turning into glowing yellow Xs. They slump against the floor, limp, like puppets with their strings cut.

You swallow hard. The room is unnervingly silent.

Uzi exhales, shaking her hands out. "Alright. Help me sit them up. We’re going in."

"Are they… gonna be okay?" you ask hesitantly, eyeing N and V’s still forms.

Uzi gives you an incredulous look, placing a hand over her chest like you just insulted her entire existence. "Wow. Wow. You really think I’m that cruel and tormented?"

You stare at her.

She groans, rolling her eyes. "They’ll be fine. I’m not some evil mad scientist. Well, not that evil."

You sigh, deciding to just accept that as reassurance. You kneel down and carefully grab V, hoisting her up and leaning her against Uzi’s bed. Her head lolls to the side, her optics still locked in that unsettling yellow X. Uzi does the same with N, but you notice something odd—she’s gentle. Like, uncharacteristically gentle. She adjusts his arms so they don’t dangle awkwardly and makes sure his back is properly supported.

Weird. This is the same girl who blows things up for fun and just went on a murderous rampage not too long ago. You file that away for later.

Once both Disassembly Drones are propped up, Uzi drags over an extra chair next to hers, motioning for you to sit. You hesitate, then take a seat, your hands instinctively gripping the armrests.

"Alright," Uzi says, cracking her knuckles. "I’m gonna attempt to gain access to their memories now. When I give the signal, you’ll plug yourself in, just like me."

Your processors hum anxiously, but you nod. "Got it."

"Good," she says, flashing a sharp grin. "Now, let’s break into some brains."

She grips a cable, plugging it into her head with ease, and the room fills with a faint, electric hum.

Uzi’s visor floods with scrolling text, lines of code and data flashing by faster than you can process. You catch glimpses of system commands, security bypasses, and encrypted files, but they disappear before you can make sense of them. It’s honestly impressive—Uzi has always been frighteningly intelligent, so it’s not shocking that she’s a skilled hacker too. She did, after all, design and build an entire railgun by herself.

Before long, the text vanishes, and Uzi leans back with a smug grin, giving you a thumbs-up. "Program’s ready."

She taps a few more keys before glancing at you. "By the way, my username’s gonna be DARKXWOLF17—"

You blink. "What."

"—and once you’re in, I’ll pick something fitting for you," she adds, smirking ominously.

You roll your eyes. "Great. Can’t wait."

Uzi snickers before stretching her arms. "Alright, so here’s the deal. To N and V, this will feel like perfectly reliving their memories, but for us, it’ll be more like watching a VR program, we’ll still be aware of what’s happening here in the real world."

You frown. "I’ve… never used a VR program."

Uzi pauses, then shrugs. "Eh, you’ll get the hang of it. Just don’t do anything stupid."

That’s not reassuring. You sigh, taking a breath before gripping the cable and plugging yourself in.

The last thing you hear is Uzi’s voice, her usual teasing tone curling around the words—

"See you on the other side."

Code flickers and flashes across your vision in a dizzying cascade of symbols, growing faster and brighter until everything—sound, sensation, thought—fades into a numbing void.

And then—

Nothing.

You blink.

A mirror stares back at you, your own reflection crisp and clear in the soft glow of vanity lights. Your posture is stiff, though not unpracticed, a quiet formality in the way you adjust your collar and smooth out your sleeves. The fabric is high-quality, tailored for the uniformity expected of staff at an event like this. Neat. Presentable. Unobtrusive.

The Gala.

You aren't attending, of course. Not really. People like you don't get invitations, but appearances still matter. Even behind the scenes, there is an expectation to uphold the illusion of effortless grace.

You exhale slowly, letting the breath steady you. The room around you is modest, practical—one of many tucked away in the estate’s lower levels, meant for employees who need to be nearby for long shifts. A few personal touches linger—a watch resting on the nightstand, a book you don’t quite remember setting there. There’s a faint hum of activity above, distant but constant.

With one last glance in the mirror, you turn on your heel and head for the door, stepping into the quiet hallway beyond. The floor is sleek, polished marble, reflecting the soft golden glow of ornate sconces lining the walls.  You ascend a wide staircase, the muffled sounds of laughter and clinking glassware growing louder with each step. The main hall awaits.

The quiet tap of your footsteps echoes through the hallway as you make your way toward the main hall, your eyes flicking from side to side, scanning for anything out of place. Every light bulb is working—no flickering, no dim spots. The paintings along the walls remain straight and level, their gilded frames catching the warm glow of the lights. The floral arrangements sit undisturbed, their colors carefully chosen to match the opulent decor.

Everything is perfect.

After hours of meticulous preparation, every detail has fallen into place. Thank goodness for V and the other drones’ help—without them, setting up for this event would have been a nightmare. Still, despite the smoothness of it all, your nerves refuse to settle. The guests haven’t arrived yet, but the anticipation is enough to keep you on edge.

As you pass a cracked door, an odd sensation crawls up the back of your neck, a gnawing feeling that digs into your mind. You pause, glancing at the door, unsure what exactly compels you to look inside.

Beyond the gap, two figures stand near the bar.

N and… Cyn.

They’re talking, though their voices are muffled, distant. N gestures animatedly, his usual easy energy on full display, while Cyn listens with an unreadable expression. The dim lighting makes it difficult to make out details, but there’s something unnerving about the scene—something just off.

Then, for the briefest moment, Cyn’s gaze shifts.

Right at you.

A shiver shoots through your spine before you even understand why, you feel as though something in your brain has just clicked. Like a light switch being flipped on after years of unuse, but what it turned on, you do not know. The moment passes as quickly as it came, and she turns back to N, continuing the conversation as if nothing happened.

You swallow the unease, shaking your head as you step away from the door. There’s no time for distractions—you have a job to do.

Turning your focus back to the task at hand, you push forward, the large double doors of the main hall looming ahead.

The moment you step into the hall, the sheer scale of the venue washes over you. The chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow, illuminating the pristine white tablecloths and glistening silverware. The air smells faintly of polished wood and expensive cologne, an atmosphere carefully crafted to impress tonight’s esteemed guests.

Seated at a side table, clipboard in hand, is J. Her eyes flick rapidly across her list as she furiously checks off items, muttering to herself under her breath. Every so often, she pauses, scowls, then scribbles something down with renewed intensity. Classic J—determined, focused, and slightly terrifying when deep in thought.

Not far from her, standing near one of the grand pillars, is Tessa.

Her hands are clasped tightly in front of her, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, her gaze darting nervously around the room. The tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers twitch slightly against the fabric of her dress, it’s clear she’s psyching herself up for the gala.

You decide to check in on her first.

Approaching, you offer a small smile, and she brightens a little when she notices you.

"Hey! You holding up okay?" you ask.

Tessa exhales sharply, her shoulders sagging ever so slightly. “Oh, you know, just preparing to fake being good at socializing for the next several hours. No big deal.” Her tone is dry, but there’s an unmistakable edge of anxiety beneath it.

You chuckle, nodding in sympathy. "I get it—"

But the words barely leave your mouth before pain sears through your skull.

A splitting headache crashes into you like a sudden wave, sharp and overwhelming. Your vision blurs at the edges, the warm glow of the chandeliers warping and twisting in unnatural ways. The words “INTRUSION DETECTED” appear in your vision, but as you blink,  they disappear as if nothing was there in the first place.

Tessa’s voice is distant, concerned. You barely register her hand grabbing your shoulder, steadying you before you can stumble.

Tessa’s grip on your shoulder tightens slightly as she leans in, brows furrowed in concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

You blink rapidly, trying to shake off the disorientation. The pain vanishes just as suddenly as it came, leaving behind an odd, lingering sensation—an incredibly vivid feeling of déjà vu. The room, the people, the conversation—everything feels like it's happened before. But that’s ridiculous. Right?

“I’m fine,” you assure her, rolling your shoulders as if you can physically shake off the feeling.

Tessa doesn’t look convinced. “You should lie down for a bit.”

“I don’t—”

“I’ll tell my parents you’re fixing the furnace if they ask where you went,” she cuts in, crossing her arms.

You sigh, already sensing where this is going. “Tessa, really, I’m fine—”

She arches an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. And technically you work for me and my family, so…” She gestures dramatically toward the door. “Go rest. That’s an order.”

You exhale sharply, caught between amusement and mild frustration. “You’re pulling rank on me?”

“Absolutely,” she replies without hesitation.

There’s no winning this argument. Maybe you have been overworking yourself. Another sigh, but you relent. “Fine, fine. I’ll rest.”

Tessa grins victoriously. “Good. Now go before I actually have to start pretending to like people.”

You shake your head with a small chuckle and turn toward the exit, leaving the grand hall behind.

As you step out into the hallway, a movement catches your eye.

N and Cyn emerge from the bar room, walking in step with each other. When they notice you, you give them a polite nod. “Hey.”

N grins and waves enthusiastically. “Hey! We’re just gonna see if Cyn can hang out at the gala for a bit! She’s never been to one, and I thought it might be fun for her. You know, it’s important to try new things!”

You glance at Cyn. Her gaze is already locked onto you, her eyes unsettlingly wide. A stretched smile carves across her face as that familiar feeling returns to you.

“Yes,” she echoes, her voice slow, deliberate. “It’s always fun to try new things. Giggle.”

You hesitate. Something about the way she’s looking at you… off. But you don’t want to be rude, so you simply nod, offering a neutral, “Hope you have fun.”

As you turn to leave, Cyn suddenly speaks again.

“Technician, be careful. You don’t want to ignore what your… brain is telling you.” she muses, her voice honeyed yet distant, like she’s reciting a fact rather than engaging in conversation.

Your breath catches in your throat.

She doesn’t blink. Just holds that eerie smile. The feeling of deja vu has completely disappeared, replaced instead by a dreadful sense of uncertainty, as if something has changed. That’s not possible however, you’re experiencing this for the first time, of course the future is uncertain, and right now, you need rest.

Then, as if nothing happened, she turns and walks away with N, who offers you a small, nervous wave before following her down the hall.

You stand frozen for a moment, unable to shake the feeling deep in your chest.

After collecting yourself for a moment, you press on towards the staircase. A nap would do you well. You don’t want to lose your mind over a bit of stress after all.

The stairs creak softly beneath your steps as you descend, your fingers brushing against the railing. Your mind keeps drifting back to Cyn’s words, but you push the thought away. It’s just stress. You’ve been working non-stop for weeks, making sure everything is perfect for the gala. It’s finally catching up to you. That’s all.

As you reach the final set of stairs, you find yourself wondering where V is. She wasn’t in the main hall, and she wasn’t with N. Maybe she’s in the kitchen? Or the library? You haven’t really had time to sit and talk with her since earlier. If she isn’t too busy, maybe you could spend some time with her this evening.

You slow to a stop in front of the library door, glancing at the dim sliver of light peeking through the crack beneath it. She could be in there. It wouldn’t hurt to check.

You reach for the doorknob.

And then—

A wave of exhaustion crashes over you, sudden and all-consuming. Your limbs feel heavy, your thoughts sluggish, like your body has decided that moving even a single inch more would take too much effort. Your hand hovers just short of the doorknob, unwilling—or unable—to close the distance.

You blink hard, trying to shake it off, but the sensation lingers, pressing down on you like an invisible weight.

Maybe… maybe you should rest first. Yeah. You’ll find V after laying down for a minute.

Letting your hand drop to your side, you turn away from the library door and continue down the hall, pushing open the basement door and stepping inside. The stairwell is dimly lit, but familiar. Safe. You descend slowly, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Finally, you reach your room, open the door, and step inside.

You step inside, closing the door behind you with a quiet click. Your room is just as you left it—small but warm, familiar. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts long shadows along the walls, making the space feel even cozier.

Your gaze drifts to the bed, and your thoughts wander back to this morning—waking up with V’s hand in yours, her presence steady and reassuring. She had watched over you, made sure you were safe, comfortable… Warmth spreads through your chest at the memory. She really is something special.

But just as you begin to settle into that feeling, the strange sensation from earlier creeps back in. It’s not just exhaustion this time—it’s something deeper, something wrong. A whisper at the edge of your thoughts, too quiet to make out but insistent, like a voice just beyond your reach.

Your eyelids feel heavier. Your body sways slightly where you stand.

Well… maybe just a small nap. You are pretty tired.

It wouldn’t hurt.

Would it?

You settle onto the bed, sighing as the weight of exhaustion presses down on you. Just a few minutes. That’s all you need. You’ll rest, let your mind clear, and then you’ll find V.

You close your eyes, sinking into the mattress, the tension in your body slowly unraveling. The world fades, thoughts slipping through your fingers like sand. The usual soft hum of the furnace through the wall is absent, seems like it’s broken again, you should really… fix that.. But sleep takes hold of you before you can worry any longer.

But just as soon as you go under, you’re yanked back, like something is pulling you away from whatever lies at the end of your slumber.

You sit up, breathing hard. The room is exactly as it was before. Nothing has changed. Nothing is out of place. 

You swallow dryly. Your throat is parched, each breath scraping uncomfortably. Maybe that’s why you feel so off—dehydration, exhaustion, stress. You just need some water. That’s all.

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you stand, rubbing your temples in an attempt to soothe the pounding in your skull. The ache lingers, dull but persistent, as you make your way to the door. Each step feels strangely deliberate, as if part of you is still fighting against the movement, against the simple act of getting up.

But you push forward.

The hallway greets you with the same familiar stillness. The walls, the floors, the soft glow of the lights—it’s all as it should be. But as you start up the stairs, that nagging sensation doesn’t fade. If anything, it gets worse.

The whisper of a thought lingers in the back of your mind.

Why does this keep happening?

You walk down the hall, headed for the kitchen. This time, however, the door to the library is cracked open.

You pause.

Maybe V is in there now? She wasn’t in the main hall or with N earlier, so it’s possible she retreated here for some quiet. You should check on her, see if she wants to come with you to the kitchen.

But as you reach for the door, a cold, creeping dread grips your chest. Your fingers hover over the handle, hesitation locking your joints in place. Something is… wrong. Very, very wrong.

Then, from inside the library, an unfamiliar voice rings out.

"DAD! GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"

What the hell?

Your breath catches as you try to place the voice. You don’t recognize it—there shouldn’t be anyone here who sounds like that. The sheer absurdity of the situation urges you to move, to push the door open and see for yourself.

And what you see makes absolutely no sense.

N stands in the entry to the library, staring at something ahead of him, just out of view. A crow sits on his hand, its black feathers stark against the dim lighting. N isn’t moving, his focus locked on something just beyond the bookshelf next to him.

He seems to speak to the… crow. “They’re that important?” Then—before your very eyes—the crow speaks.

“To you! And, like… me.”

You freeze.

A talking crow.

A talking crow.

N, seemingly more confused by the response than the crow talking to him, tilts his head. "Why? Who are you?"

You open your mouth to echo the question, but the words barely leave your lips before both of them jump at your voice.

“Whoa! What the hell? Don’t sneak up on people like that!” It glares at you with glowing purple eyes. Maybe you have lost it after all.

You glance at N, who, in typical fashion, is beaming as if none of this is weird. "Oh! This is Techy!" he chirps. "They're the Technician for the Elliott’s, but I like to call them Techy!"

The crow seems to look at you, its voice trailing off, “Techy..?”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. "Yeah. That’s me. I’m going to choose not to question the talking crow, but—what is going on here? And have either of you seen V?"

N’s smile falters. He shifts uncomfortably before hesitantly raising a hand to point behind you.

You turn—

—and the world goes still.

V stands motionless in the center of the library, her optics flashing a single repeated message:

ERROR: 606

Then, lightning flashes, illuminating the room in a stark, blinding white. And in that brief moment, you see it.

Behind V, chained to the wall, is something horrific. A grotesque endoskeleton, twisted and unnatural, looms in the darkness. Its shining, bladed wings stretch out like some nightmarish parody of an angel, dripping with a thick, black liquid that pools beneath it. Its body is restrained, but its presence is suffocating.

Your breath catches in your throat.

Then, the room is plunged into darkness once more.

“What the hell happened? What’s wrong with V?” Your voice comes out more panicked than you'd like, but can anyone blame you? V isn’t moving. The error message in her optics keeps flashing, unchanging, unresponsive. And then there’s… that thing behind her, chained up like some nightmare that shouldn’t exist.

You take a shaky step forward, hands clenching and unclenching as if that will somehow ground you, somehow make sense of what you're seeing. "N, what is—?"

Before you can finish, the crow cuts in.

"Hold up, Techy?" Its tone is flat, but something about it grates at you—like it's skeptical, like it’s judging you.

You turn to glare at the damn bird, ready to demand what the hell its problem is, but you’re stopped by that strange feeling in your mind from earlier. 

Your stomach twists, but there are much bigger concerns at the moment. You shake your head, trying to refocus.

"Yeah," you say, swallowing hard, forcing some steadiness into your voice. "That’s me. It’s—my whole thing. I fix stuff around here." You glance nervously at V’s unmoving form, then back at the hulking nightmare behind her. "...But uh. This might be a little outside my area of expertise."

N makes a noise somewhere between an anxious giggle and a concerned whimper. "That’s... not great."

"Yeah," you mutter, eyes flicking back to V. "No kidding."

The crow clicks its beak, then flaps its wings once, ruffling its feathers. "Alright, listen up. I have a plan, and you better not get in my way. That said…" It tilts its head at you, eyes glinting in the dim light. "I wouldn’t mind a bit of help."

You let out a short, breathy laugh—more out of nerves than amusement. "I’m not about to ruin your master plan," you mutter, but the joke feels weak, hollow. Your gaze flickers back to V, still standing perfectly still, frozen like a statue with that flashing ERROR: 606 in her optics. You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry again. "...I’ll help."

At your words, the crow gives you another look.

You can’t quite place it, but there’s something recognizing in its expression, like it knows something you don’t. You shift uncomfortably, trying to ignore the way your stomach twists at the thought.

Are you still asleep? Did you just… drop dead in your room, and now this is some kind of bizarre, last-second nightmare before your brain finally shuts down for good?

You rub at your temples, trying to push the thought away. Doesn’t matter. What matters is V—and whatever the hell that thing behind her is.

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and walk forward.

N follows beside you, hesitant but determined, while the crow flaps its wings, pulling him forward.

The three of you approach V’s motionless form, her body eerily still, that error message blinking in the pitch-darkness.

You just hope, whatever this plan is, it works.

Your hands tighten around V’s shoulders as you and N drag her aside, her frame heavier than expected, even with both of you working together. You do your best to not look behind her, to not acknowledge the monstrous thing lurking in the dark, its wings catching flashes of dim light, its chains dripping with that thick, black substance pooling beneath it.

Just focus on the task at hand.

N works quickly, grabbing the rug beneath V’s feet and yanking it away, revealing the heavy metal trapdoor beneath. Cyn’s room.

Cyn.

You swallow, a sickening realization creeping in. Whatever’s happening to V—whatever this is—it has to be connected to her. It always comes back to her.

Your fingers twitch against V’s shoulders as you let go, and—crackle. A sharp snap of static arcs between you. Your breath catches in your throat as your vision glitches. For the briefest second, text flickers across your vision, bright and invasive.

“ATTEMPTING ADMINISTRATOR OVERRIDE.”

You blink, and it’s gone.

No. No, no, no—what the hell was that?!

Your hands shake as you take a step back, suddenly hyper-aware of your own body. Your processors—no, your brain. That was just—just some weird light trick, or stress, or—or something—

Before you can spiral any further, the crow speaks up, its tone dry.

"Great. Now we just need the key."

N groans. “Ugh, J has it.”

Lightning flashes. The room is bathed in a stark, white light for an instant—

—and you glance back at V.

She’s grinning. The error message still flashes on her visor, unchanged, but now—now—her mouth is curled into a wide, unsettling smile. And her hand… her fingers changed into razor-sharp claws, glinting in the dim light.

Oh my god.

You’re losing your mind. You’re actually losing your mind.

N’s hand on your shoulder is firm, grounding you. His soft, easy gaze shouldn’t be as reassuring as it is, not with this happening, not with V grinning behind him like some kind of broken doll, but—

You swallow hard, shoving the feeling down. You can’t afford to freeze up.

You nod.

Find J. Find Tessa. Get the key. Fix this.

Before it’s too late.

With that resolve hardening in your chest, you turn, following N and the crow as they make their way up the library staircase. Your footsteps are nearly silent against the plush carpeted steps, but each one still feels too loud, like you’re waiting for something—someone—to grab you from behind.

But nothing does.

You reach the top, stepping onto the balcony overlooking the gathering hall.

Guests mill about, chatting idly, their voices blending into a dull hum beneath the soft music playing from the speakers. A few Worker Drones stand at attention, serving trays of champagne, politely taking coats, moving with quiet efficiency.

The three of you crouch, moving carefully, you step along the balcony’s edge, keeping close to the railing, hearts hammering in your chest as you inch toward Tessa’s room.

You move a bit further along the balcony, creeping to avoid being spotted. As you round the corner, you spot J and Tessa standing together, both armed—J gripping a sword, Tessa holding a revolver. Looks like they know something’s up, too.

N leans in slightly, whispering urgently, “Pssst, Tessa.”

The two of them turn at the sound, their eyes locking onto your group.

But before anyone can say anything, a pair of glasses falls from above, clattering against the floor.

Your stomach drops.

As you glance up, lightning splits the sky, illuminating the ceiling in a stark white flash—just long enough for you to see V, crawling across it like some kind of twisted spider.

A jolt of terror shoots through you, and you instinctively step closer to the others, hands curling into fists at your sides.

J and Tessa snap to attention as you all cluster together, forming a loose huddle. N wastes no time getting to the point.

“We need the key to Cyn’s room,” he says quickly. “This bird is from the future, and it’s here to help.”

The crow lets out an irritated squawk before darting forward toward J, snatching the key from her grip in one quick motion. It flutters back onto N’s shoulder with a satisfied snicker.

“I’d kill you,” it remarks, almost playfully.

J scowls, rubbing her wrist as if debating whether to smack the thing off of N.

Tessa, meanwhile, turns to you all with a grim expression. “Cyn is planning to massacre the gala,” she says, voice low and serious.

Your breath catches.

Those dreams. The horrible nightmares. The blood, the screams, the carnage. Your head spins as the pieces start slotting into place. You’ve been seeing this. But why? Why you? Your thoughts are interrupted by N’s casual voice.

“Our Cyn? Nah, she’s cool, she wouldn’t do that.”

You snap back to the present just in time to see J and Tessa exchange a look of pure disbelief.

J doesn’t hesitate. “Go do your basement thing,” she says, sword glinting as she shifts into a defensive stance. “We’ve got V handled.”

That’s all the confirmation you need.

You grab N’s wrist, yanking him along as you both turn to run. But before you can get far, V leaps from the ceiling.

A blur of movement—then a sharp metallic screech as her claws swipe at N, aiming straight for the key.

You don’t even have time to think. Throwing yourself at her, you slam into her full force, knocking her off balance. The key slips from her grasp, clattering to the floor.

“Got it!” N exclaims, scooping it up.

Before you can celebrate, V snarls. Her hand clamps onto your shoulder. In the next instant, you’re airborne—hurled like a ragdoll across the hall. The world spins before you slam into the wall hard, the impact rattling through your frame.

Air leaves your lungs in a wheeze.

For a second, everything is ringing. Your vision blurs as you blink rapidly, trying to force the stinging in your eyes away.

When you finally focus, V is staring at you.

Her cruel grin is razor-sharp, yellow optics flickering as she bares her jagged teeth.

This… this isn’t V.

Not the V you know. Not the V you... love.

You suck in a shaky breath, heart pounding. “V…?”

She ignores you, making a break for N. Just as she lunges for the fleeing drone, J intercepts. With a flash of silver, her sword swings, meeting V’s claws with a resounding clang. Sparks fly as the two of them collide.

J grits her teeth, pushing V back. “Run!” she shouts.

You don’t hesitate.

You get up and run, trailing just behind N and the crow.

You push through the library doors, still gasping from the hit you took. Pain lances through your frame, but you force yourself to move, practically throwing yourself down the stairs. 

You need to get to that damn trap door.

N continues running ahead of you, still clutching the key as the crow clings to his shoulder. You hit the bottom step, ready to rush forward—

And freeze.

Just as N reaches the trapdoor and unlocks it, a sickening, writhing mass of black tendrils slithers up from the opening, slick and pulsing with unnatural motion. Your breath catches as a voice—Cyn’s voice—rings out from the glowing yellow camera that seems to be the creature’s head.

“Jump scare. Grab.”

Before you can react, a claw lashes out, snatching the crow mid-flight and hurling it across the room. It lets out a mechanical squawk before crashing into a bookshelf.

“DARKXWOLF17! NOOOOO!” N cries out, voice breaking.

Then another tendril lashes out, wrapping around N’s leg.

Your stomach drops.

With terrifying strength, the creature yanks him off his feet, dragging him toward the gaping abyss of the trapdoor.

“No, no, no—!”

You lunge, grabbing N by the arms, digging your feet into the floor. You pull with everything you have, but it’s like fighting against an industrial crane. The tendrils don’t stop.

They just drag you both. You grit your teeth, trying to hold on—

Then, suddenly, it stops.

The tendrils twitch, convulsing, before stiffening unnaturally. The creature’s camera—if you can even call it that—blinks once.

The light shifts. Purple. Just like the crow’s. Then—

“Oh! We’re in.”

A girl’s voice rings out from it. The same as the crow’s.

Your mind struggles to catch up, but before you can even begin to process what’s happening, a heavy thud sounds behind you.

You whip around.

V.

She’s landed just a few feet away, claws flexing, that unsettling grin still stretched across her face.

The girl’s voice speaks up with more annoyance than shock.

“And J is useless. Surprise.”

The tendrils yank, and the world tilts—

Before you know it, you and N are being pulled into the basement. The trap door slams shut behind you as the monster locks it before V can enter.

Your eyes struggle to adjust to the dim, eerie glow of Cyn’s room while N continues his frantic questioning. His voice wavers, “is V is okay? Like, in the future?” Desperation creeping into his tone.

The girl—if she can even be called that, given she’s currently inhabiting some kind of monstrous nightmare—responds flatly, "Unfortunately."

That’s the last straw. You step forward, fists clenched, frustration and fear bubbling over. "What the hell is going on? What do you mean you're from the future? What happened to V?" Your voice rises with every demand, panic threatening to overtake you as your mind races for any kind of logic in this situation. “I feel like I’m losing my damn mind here!”

The girl barely acknowledges your distress. Instead, she scoffs, "Bite me," she yells, her voice dripping with irritation before shifting to something more serious. "We have bigger problems than your apparent mental illness, join the club!"

Before you can snap back at her, she gestures at N, who appears to be staring at something in the corner. As you turn to match his gaze, your heart seems to fall out of your chest as you see it.

The dim light reflects off metal plating, limbs twisted and mangled beyond recognition. V’s decapitated corpse sits in a chair, motionless, silent proof of the horror that has been lurking beneath your feet all this time.

Your stomach churns. Is this what Cyn has been doing? How did you miss this? Those sounds you thought you heard at night, the flickers of movement just out of sight—was this it all along? You swallow hard, but it does nothing to ease the rising dread constricting your chest.

Oh god. V...

You tear your gaze away from the mangled remains of your friend, forcing yourself to look at N. His wide, horrified eyes mirror your own thoughts. You didn’t even notice his vision had shifted towards... his own body, also decapitated and sitting in a chair just like V.  

“Not dealing with this great! And I forgot to bring my book about dogs, so…” He says with an uncharacteristically somber tone.

“Wait… if you’re here… but your body is also here... we can still save V, right? It’s not too late for some kind of backup-” 

Your epiphany is interrupted by the world shaking around you, the lights flickering as you attempt to steady yourself, grabbing N by the arm. After a few seconds, it stops. 

“What the hell was that?” You ask, turning towards the creature that had been extremely unhelpful up to this point. However, its camera hangs limp, as if its control over the beast had been taken away. 

N pokes it, attempting to bring whatever it is back to life, “Ghost buddy, you okay?” 

The lights on the eldritch nightmare shift back to their original yellow hue, Cyn’s robotic voice rings out of it before you even have time to process what’s happening, “Better than ever, buddy.”

Just as you grab N’s shoulder to pull him back, the monster grabs you by the neck, its grip tight as you struggle to breathe, grabbing at the horrifying tendril without any luck.

“Intriguing. You are not supposed to be here.”

You blink away tears as your vision begins to fade away, your attempts at freeing yourself have failed, and N is helpless as the abomination pins him to a chair.

A stabbing sensation etches itself deep into your skull, raging in your mind as your vision is once again filled with a computer message from an unknown source, before everything fades away.

ADMINISTRATOR LOCKOUT: SUCCESSFUL

BEGINNING DISK CLEANUP

|||__________________________________ 3%

[elvenbeard]

"C'mon, V, help a choom out. Promise, I'll pay ya back for it!" "Only 'cause it's you, Jackie."

Look at these up to no good Heywood (but one of them not really) boys aaahhhh!!

Vince ran away from home at 17 years old and was a little lost and wandering for the next few years, stumbling from odd job to odd job. Before he found his way back into the corporate world after a chance encounter with Jenkins, his last (and longest) job was as a techie at a Heywood car mechanic. He was really good at what he did and enjoyed the time there, and of course he'd help Jackie out however he could - he got him the job in the first place!

This would have been in 2071, roughly!

Little bonus pics because I'm OBSESSED with his ears aaahhh!!

[streetkid-named-desire]

Part of Bea's final POV in the next chapter before she's rescued because @merge-conflict was like "sorry I like Bea's POV better" and (reasonably and correctly) wanted more

-

The glass door to the employee hallway whispering shut felt like a stone rolling over the entrance of her tomb. Bea fell back into bed, fell back into the void inside herself she’d pried open. It was the same one she recognized in V and it was for the same purpose: to protect herself from her own emotions.

The only logical reason she could think Frederick was doing this to her was just simple revenge. Which was boring and pathetic and she never missed a chance to remind him how little she thought of him. She resisted every chance she got. Frederick liked to play with her and would let her scratch and spit and claw like a feral cat until she got too close and he’d trigger the programming preventing her from hurting him.

The Animals that guarded her booth 24/7 were too strong for her. The first time she’d tried to escape, they had posted two at the entrance to her booth and two outside in the employee hallway. She’d tried to slip out the back, thinking if she was just quiet and low to the ground she could trip them up. She’d taken down dozens of goons with just her hands and her wits, but the Animals employed at the club were chipped and roided to high heaven. She was fast, but she wasn’t faster than a Sandevistan with reflex boosters. She was strong, but she wasn’t stronger than an Animal with an arm nearly as thick as her entire body. Multiple fractures and dislocations later, and she’d accepted she could only bide her time.

They let Betty visit her and eventually got rid of the goons patrolling the hallway as long as she stopped trying to escape. So, she stopped trying to escape. But she never stopped fighting. As soon as one of them or Frederick entered the booth, she was on them in a flash. Of course, it always ended with her injured or Frederick triggering the passive programming, but hey, at least she wasn’t trying to escape.

But then it started to wear on her. The memory erasing function was becoming less and less effective and the more memories she retained of what Frederick did to her or allowed his friends to do to her, the less she felt like fighting. She tried to compartmentalize it, to overwrite it with other memories, to plot revenge, to imagine how she would kill Frederick and how she would make him feel every second of it.

It was never enough.

She folded her ring finger and jacked into the port by the bed. She’d never met the club techie face to face, he had an office near the center of the club, Bea had passed by the door when she went to Mr. Nobody’s office to interview. But she got to know him with how frequently she was jacking into the central line to run maintenance on Frederick’s custom software. They’d talk through an intercom by the port and he’d tell her about the latest game he was playing or movie he just saw. He sounded young to her, too young to be working in a place like this. Their talks, though brief, were a connection to the outside world she cherished.

The first time the memory eraser only got 50% of the way through before crashing, she’d asked him if it was possible to upload a program when a client wasn’t in the room. He said it was.

Bea watched in her retinal display as a loading bar appeared, showing her the “sex kitten” routine upload progress. It was just a courtesy the techie had given her, dolls never knew or needed to know the names of programs they were running. They just jacked in, disappeared for a bit, and jacked out when they were back.

The Animals usually had to force her back out. But the handful of hours of mindless bliss she got were worth it every time. She hoped she wasn’t getting the techie in trouble, but the fact he kept doing it for her was a good sign.

She closed her eyes and felt her body sink into the shag carpet from a vintage 1970s porno mag. When she opened them again, she wasn’t Bea. She wasn’t stuck in a doll booth waiting for Frederick’s next torture. She had never been a solo for Arasaka. She had never been a nomad. She had never been Bea.

She was nobody.

[slayerdurge]

Secure Your Soul: A Cyberpunk 2077 Fanfiction

This fic was previously published under the title “Before the Event Horizon.”

Summary: Six months ago, V’s boss at Arasaka ordered her to assassinate his rival. Instead, with the reluctant but invaluable help of her old friend Jackie Welles, she pushed them both off their thrones and claimed one for herself. Now the new Director of Arasaka Counter Intel has a problem. She’s uncovered information that indicates that Yorinobu Arasaka, the heir apparent to the Arasaka dynasty, is a traitor. But without solid proof, she’s forced to take matters into her own hands.

An AU in which Corpo!V never leaves Arasaka.

CHAPTER FIVE: THE MISSION

[read on ao3]

SIX YEARS EARLIER

V sat in a parked car and discreetly watched the windows of the hotel across the street through her Kiroshi. Assuming the rookie techie they’d partnered her with had done his job properly, this was the place where she’d find her mark. 

Not that V wasn’t technically a rookie herself. She’d only been working for Arasaka for a few months. But she came from a legacy family—both her parents had been Arasaka employees—and she’d attended Arasaka Academy for the last four years and transferred directly into Counter Intel post-graduation. The job fit her like it was made for her. Or, more accurately, it fit her because she had been made for it. 

On the other hand, Carter Smith, the techie in question… he was a smart guy, but too squeamish by far. V didn't understand reluctant corpos—if working for Arasaka hadn’t struck her as the best thing she could be doing with her life, she wouldn’t have done it.

But if he had successfully tracked the target, he was worth something. She’d give him the benefit of the doubt. For now. 

As she watched the hotel, V mentally reviewed the details of her case. Stephen Blackburn—a former Arasaka employee, pissed off that he hadn't been able to cut it in the corpo world—had made off with a datafile full of dirt on his former bosses. She knew the type. Jaded risk-takers with nothing left to lose. Dangerous because they were desperate, but predictable too. 

Blackburn wasn't her direct opponent here, though. She knew from Smith’s interception of his messages that he'd hired a merc to transport a laptop with the data on it for him. A merc whose identity was still unknown. V didn't like that. She planned better when she could analyze her enemy. So she waited outside the hotel, hoping to catch a glimpse of him long enough to ascertain his identity. 

Her patience paid off. Forty minutes into her stake-out, a curtain moved in the top floor window of the building—in exactly the room that Smith had claimed was occupied by her target. She quickly zoomed in that direction. There. A face glancing furtively out at the street. Gone almost as soon as she’d spotted it, but her optics had been fast enough to grab a scan. If he had an NCPD record… and, as it turned out, he did. The relevant file popped up in the side of her vision. A surprisingly short rap sheet, starting with a carjacking when he was fifteen. The record identified him as Jackie Welles.

Hmm. An interesting coincidence. She recognized the name. The associated image, too, though of course he was older now. After her parents had died in the line of duty, but before Arasaka had offered her a spot at the Academy, she’d been forced to spend a couple of miserable years at a public junior high. He’d been one of her classmates there.

She even recalled attending his birthday party in eighth grade. One of those patronizing "everyone is invited" affairs. Truthfully, she’d only shown up to observe her classmates. Ever since she’d first arrived at the junior high from her high-end private elementary school, the other kids had baffled her. They’d spent far more time focused on the latest braindances and lazrpop songs than on their grades or futures. She’d figured that couldn’t be all they cared about, and she’d made a point of attending every social event she could score an invitation to until she figured out what truly motivated them. 

She’d learned a lot of useful information. Most scrawny thirteen-year-olds in Heywood, with no cyberware but a pair of Kiroshi, had to worry about potential abuse leveled at them from their classmates. Not V. It was amusing how easily bullies could be managed when you knew all the dirty family secrets that drove them to pick on those they assumed were weaker than them.  

She’d even used her Kiroshi to record all those social events she’d attended. She still had the recordings in her personal archive. V was in the habit of never deleting any of her data, no matter how old. Her experiences, even the ones she’d loathed living through, had shaped her into who she was today. Those memories were hers, and she wanted them kept safe.  

So then… what could they help her recall about Jackie Welles? She pulled up her archive and set the date range to May of ‘63. She located the recording of the party on the 26th of that month and clicked play. Suddenly, she was thirteen again, looking out at the past through her own eyes.

She sat in a bright red plastic chair in the corner of a crowded living room. It was abuzz with the sounds of children—laughing, talking, shouting, and eating. She watched as teenage V zoomed her Kiroshi towards her priority targets and lingered there one by one. She waited until teenage V focused on Jackie. He’d never been a problem for her, but considering it was his party, she’d still taken the chance to learn what she could about him.

There he was, surrounded by his family—a deeply affectionate mother and more brothers than was reasonable. No father. He’d been admitted to the hospital the year prior and had never returned to the Welles household. V had suspected that either Jackie or one of his brothers were responsible for that. She hadn’t missed the improvement in the Welles boys’ temperament after their father was gone. She’d bet he probably deserved it. He’d been a Valentino of the old-school variant, the kind who believed his word was law when it came to his family. Say what you will about modern Valentinos, but at least they’d left that mentality behind for the most part. 

It occurred to V that she’d seen a mention of the Valentinos in Jackie’s NCPD file. Originally, he’d been known to take on solo mercenary work, but he’d recently been flagged for involvement in gang activities. Had he decided to follow in the old man’s footsteps? Odds were his mother was sick with worry. A weak point if she'd ever seen one. 

An idea began to formulate in her mind.

She pulled up her optics' phonebook through the appropriate series of eye flicks, and called her techie. "Hey, Carter," she said when she received an answer. "Can you create a vocal modulator for me? Want to imitate a particular voice." 

"Sure thing. As long as you've got a sufficient sample."

"Think I should…" V began, pulling up the birthday video in her personal archives again. She identified a portion featuring a brief speech by Jackie's mother. Should be just long enough for her purposes. She forwarded it to Smith. "Will that work?"

"That's perfect," he said. "Give me a minute…" The voice on the line shifted. “All right, Jackie, time to blow out the candles, mijo.”

“Not bad, not bad. You sound just like her. In fact…” V grinned conspiratorially. “Feel like doing some role-playing?”

—

Getting into the building wasn’t difficult. V simply walked in and booked a room for herself. She asked for a room on the top floor, citing fear of a break-in as her excuse, in case the elevator was programmed to only allow access to the floor a guest was actually staying on. 

As she stepped out of the elevator on the top floor, she spoke quietly to Smith, whom she’d kept on the call, “Almost there. You clear on the plan?”

“Yep. I call his personal line, use the vocal modulator, and distract him long enough for you to grab the data and get out. No bloodshed for once.”

“That's the idea,” V confirmed. “No need for this to get messy.”

V turned the corner into the hallway that contained Jackie’s room and scanned the area for security cameras. There was just one, and it was situated in an obvious position near the top of the wall. Her optics were able to trace its trajectory in mere milliseconds, and they lit up its field of view for her so that she could pass by without being caught on video. 

“Almost there,” she told Smith. “And remember—don’t be afraid to scare him. If he’s not scared enough to get out of our way, we’ll have to take him down the old-fashioned way.”

“Understood.” 

“Good. Make the call in three minutes. I’m going silent.”

She was just outside the room now. She set her Kiroshi to thermal mode and spotted Jackie almost at once. He appeared to be sitting in a chair on the far side of the room.

V crouched and activated her optical camo. Her body vanished from sight, though of course, she was very much still detectable through a myriad of alternative methods. The thermal scanning she was using to keep track of Jackie, for one. But she didn’t plan to rely solely on the camo. 

Exactly three minutes later, she heard Jackie’s anxious, slightly muffled voice from the other side of the door. He was speaking Spanish. Interesting. Either Smith knew Spanish, or he’d set up a program that could translate his speech fast enough to sound natural. Generally, it was easier to translate for the listener, so most translation software didn’t bother with the other way around. She was pleasantly surprised that he’d exceeded her expectations. 

“Okay, okay, mamá,” Jackie was saying, as V’s cyberware translated. “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

While Jackie was talking, V unlocked the door. It wasn’t difficult. The defenses were woefully outdated, and Jackie was making enough noise that it was unlikely he could hear the lock click.   

“Please, you have to calm down.” Jackie stood up and moved to the right side of the room, away from the desk. That was exactly what V had been waiting for. While he continued his increasingly impassioned pleas, V quietly pushed open the door.  

She immediately spotted the laptop on the desk on the left side of the room. Jackie himself was near the window where V had seen him the first time. His back was to the door. Perfect. 

She dashed toward the desk and stopped before the laptop, gazing at the screen. She considered grabbing it and getting out, but she needed to confirm that it had the data she was looking for or she might miss her best opportunity. So, despite the increased risk, she took the time to breach the laptop’s defenses.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Jackie was explaining. “They wouldn’t do that. It must have been someone else.”

After a few agonizing seconds, V successfully accessed the data. It was all there. Everything she needed. Excellent.

Behind her, she heard the click of a trigger pressed partway down. An acidic voice filled the room. “What kinda sick fuck uses the sound of a man’s own mamá's voice against him?” 

V froze. Too slow. Bile-flavored dread rose in her throat, but she swallowed, pushing it down where it belonged. He hadn’t shot her yet. She still had a chance to talk her way out of this. She deactivated her optical camo. Slowly, she raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, you've got me,” she admitted. “Don't do anything rash. Let's talk. May I turn around?”

“Fine,” he growled softly.

Cautiously, avoiding any possible sign of aggression, V turned. The man she remembered as a constant optimist had clearly found some hidden stores of rage to draw from. He looked at her with open hatred, his gun pointed directly at the center of her forehead. 

“Now,” began Jackie Welles. “Do you have her? Do you have my mom?”

That explained the level of anger. For a second, V was torn. It could be useful to let him believe that, but it was likely more prudent to calm him down.

“I asked you a question, demoña.”

“No,” V stated clearly. “Nothing like that. I’m sure your mom is just fine. We don't have her. It’s just a vocal modulator.”

“You think I don’t fuckin’ know that?” He was nearly shouting now. “Can tell the difference between her and a stranger, even one that sounds just like her. But I know how that tech works. You need a voice sample to set one up. So how’d you know what she sounds like?” 

V felt a slight tremor of fear, mingled with excitement and appreciation. He'd been onto her all along. He was more astute that she’d given him credit for. This might actually be a fair match. “You and I, we went to middle school together. Eighth grade. I was at your thirteenth birthday party. Still happened to have the recording.”

“Eighth grade?” he said uncertainly. “I don't remember you.”

“That doesn't surprise me. I mostly kept to myself.”

“More like thought you were better than everyone else.”

“Ah.” V smiled slightly. “So you do remember me.”

“You trying to make me angry?” He moved slightly closer, still keeping his gun aimed steadily. A good sign. If he was trying to intimidate her, it was because her casual manner unnerved him. 

“No. The opposite, actually,” she said emphatically. “I’m trying to make you realize that we have a valuable and fleeting opportunity here.”

“There you go,” Jackie scoffed. “Always trying to make a deal. This isn't your office, demoña. I'm not your coworker.”

That much is obvious, V thought. She carried on regardless. “In about five minutes, my backup from Arasaka’s going to come through that door. Yes, you could kill me before then, but could you make it out in time? Could you hide the evidence that would allow them to find you again?”

“And what's your offer? Turn myself in? Surrender and maybe my punishment won't be that bad?”

“My offer is to let you go free.”

His shock made her smile again. No one could ever claim that she didn’t make reasonable deals.

“Let me go free? Just like that?”

“Indeed. With a guarantee of future protection from Arasaka’s wrath, assuming you don't antagonize us too badly. That's for letting me live.”

“A guarantee, huh?” He mocked her sales-pitch tone. “So I'm meant to, what, take your word for it?”

“No. I’d never ask anyone to take me on faith,” she explained. “That data you've got, it's very valuable. Could ruin any number of my superiors. I'll have to take it back to Arasaka, of course. However, I'm willing to let you hold on to a copy.”

“You'd leave evidence behind? If your superiors find out, they'd kill you.” He emphasized the word ‘superiors’ with the same mocking tone.

“Exactly,” V stated proudly. 

He looked at her like she’d sprouted a second head. 

"If I try to betray you," V continued patiently, "all you need to do is leak enough data to make Arasaka realize I let you keep a copy. They'll zero me, but they'll come for you too. And if you betray me, I can initiate the same events in reverse order. Continued loyalty would be the safest, most logical choice for each of us."

"That your foundation for an alliance?" Jackie cried in exasperation, his gun never straying from its mark in the center of her forehead. "Mutually assured destruction?"

V kept her hands held up, but she dared to lift her chin. "Yes." She looked him steadily in the eyes. "Because it works.”

A loaded silence followed. 

“And that's for letting you live?”

“That's for letting me live,” V confirmed.

He was silent again. Then, slowly, he lowered his gun. “Okay. Deal.”

“Excellent.” V lowered her hands just as slowly. “I’ll copy the data right now.” 

She turned back to the laptop, plugged in one of her extra empty datashards, and began the duplication process. She noted Jackie watching her movements closely. She kept her hands open and within his field of view, so he’d know she wasn’t trying to sabotage anything. As the loading screen appeared, she said to him, “There's more we can offer each other, if you’re interested.” 

“More? This ain’t enough for you?” His initial answer came quickly. But after a second, he sighed and added, “Like what?”

“You’re new to the Valentinos, right? Got contacts there. Could pull some strings. Keep you safe, help you rise.”

“Valentinos wouldn't make deals with ‘Saka.”

“Are you sure about that?” 

“Yes,” he insisted. “Honor means something to 'em.”

“Honor means something to us too, Jackie.”

“Right.” His voice was heavy with sarcasm.

The loading screen reached a hundred percent. She unplugged the datashard and handed it to him, then closed the laptop and placed it under her arm. “Think about it,” she told him as she pulled out one of her business cards. “Here's my contact info.”

He took the datashard from her and plugged it into the port in his head, confirming that everything he needed was on it. Then he took her business card. “Okay. I'll think about it.” He started to turn away, but then he paused and asked her, “What about Blackburn?”

It took her a second to place the name. “The guy who hired you? He's a dead man. But you don't care about him.”

“How would you know?” 

She chuckled slightly. “If you did, you'd have brought him up way earlier.” 

Jackie scoffed. “Sheesh. Cinco minutos we’ve been talking and you think you know me already.”

V didn’t respond. He hadn’t denied it. 

“What would you want?” he asked bluntly, dropping the thread of the previous conversation. “For the protection?”

V smiled. She’d guessed he’d be interested in that offer. He was a man driven by competing goals—he wanted to stay safe for his mother, but he also wanted his chance at becoming a Night City legend. He’d probably agonized for years over which path to follow. And she’d just offered him a way to do both. “That’s easy. I’d want you to keep that data safe. In case I have a misunderstanding with a superior some day and need to settle the matter properly. But that’s an issue for the future. Right now, you should leave. They’ll be here soon. Go on. I’ll make sure they don’t come after you.”

He nodded at her and walked out. V let out a breath and leaned her back against the wall, allowing herself a brief moment of celebration. Nothing like a brush with death to make you remember you’re alive.

“That was kind of you, V,” said a soft voice in her ear. “Protecting him like that. Instead of solving all your problems with violence.”

“Carter—”

“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. Someone’s gotta keep our bosses on their toes, don’t you think? Over and out.” 

He disconnected the call. V smiled to herself in amusement. He’d called her kind. It was strange the way people's minds worked. But she didn't have time to dwell on that now. She gripped the laptop tightly and left the room, already planning what she'd say when she brought in the data but not the merc that should have gone with it. 

Letting him go hadn’t been her original plan, but she had to admit she’d wanted a copy of that data since she’d found out about it. It was far too dangerous to keep on her person, or leave unguarded in any of her safehouses, or entrust to any ally that could be traced back to her. But Jackie Welles… who would ever guess the two of them were working together? As long as she could keep him in line—and she believed she could—she could even send him updates as she collected new intel, growing his database of Arasaka’s dirty secrets but making sure they were used only when she wanted them used.

She smiled to herself again. This might be the start of a lucrative partnership.

[aggravateddurian]

Boy golly, I've just come back to tumblr and...

It's WIP Wednesday Whenever, my dudes (gender neutral, of course)!

Thank you to the following who tagged me: @wanderingaldecaldo, @chevvy-yates, @olath124 and last but not least, @ouroboros-hideout.

Judy and Val have arrived to serve cunt. Night City, you have been warned...

Where Has Durian Been?

Firstly, I've been on a bit of a tumblr hiatus. There's something screwy with my feed that means I'm not seeing everyone's new stuff (some people yes, but for others it's weeks, even months old). I stopped posting for a bit in the hopes it was something on my end. Alas, it appears not to be so.

I have elected to therefore charge ahead and just post anyway.

Yet Another Valerie Ocampo-Gonzalez Lore Rewrite/Character Respec

I've recently become very interested in netrunners, and in a move that I feel fits Val's established backstory well, she's becoming one.

Vik is surprised to find that not only has Val had two girlfriends in one year (she has relationship dramas that are often not her fault) but they have the same haircut! Clearly she has a type...

As some may be aware, I recently began writing The President's Lady, a Myers x Vega 'V' Hawse AU fic. I made some changes to Val's speciality and abilities.

Val has moved from being a Solo with a strong techie background to a netrunner. In a lore post coming up soon, Val goes on the net by the handle 's33lynx' (a play on the word 'lynx' and 'c-link', the latter being the official name for the interface plug on the back of netrunners' heads, and the former her favourite type of cat). She loses the Apogee Sandevistan for Class III netrunning hardware.

Otherwise, there's no major change in her character.

(also, if you know how to do tattoos for the VTK texture system and would be interested in a commission or request, hit me up, I have cool ideas for Val's tattoos that I've drawn sketches of, but no real idea of how to make them appear on Val's body because I ain't really a visual artist. I know my strengths, I'm a writer, not a visual artist haha)

Val's Pussy... cat, I mean cat!!!

xBaebsae released a Nibbles replacer mod about a year ago. I mentioned Val is a cat person and owned a ginger cat.

This is Pumpkin, Val's cat. In both appearances of Val (Brother's Shadow and Chorus) she's Val's cat, and both times, she's a gift from Melanie Foster. In Brother's Shadow, Melanie, of course, ghosts Val for unspecified reasons, so Val keeps Pumpkin. Pumpkin (or more appropriately, calabaza) is Judy's pet name for Val, so there's also that, I guess.

Writing Projects Continue

I am continuing to write Chapter 4 of Brother's Shadow. It's gone through the wringer as my perfectionism has once again claimed another victim. Rest assured that if you're interested in that story, it will come out before Christmas.

Chapter 3 of The President's Lady is also coming out by the end of tomorrow. Those who have me on Discord have already seen a preview, but if you're not one of those people, have a look:

Myers grinned as she placed her chin on V’s shoulder, “I can relate to that loneliness. It’s easier to talk about with someone who’s experienced it.” V nodded, “Yeah.” Myers’ hands began to explore beyond Vega’s arms, towards her hips, “If I’m out of line…” Vega felt… odd. The President… Rosalind was her boss… but at the same time, Rosalind was the only other person who really knew how Vega felt. She didn’t really want her to stop exploring. All Vega could do was smile, and follow Myers’ hands, “Glad to see we’re on the same wavelength.” The door creaked. Vega’s smile faded as Myers’ hands quickly retreated from Vega’s body. Reed stomped into the room. Myers clasped her hands as she turned to face him, “Solomon.” Reed eyed the pair of ladies. He seemed somewhat suspicious as he held up a sealed shard container, “The report, Madame President."

There are now two new projects in the pipeline. The first is The Alpha Bitch of Dogtown, a story about my femV character Vega becoming the leader of BARGHEST and Dogtown after allying with Colonel Hansen in an alternate ending to Phantom Liberty.

After being dumped by Judy (it's Vega's canon event for Judy to leave/move on from her due to various reasons), she falls in love with Bennett, who she then dumps and exiles from Dogtown after he is revealed to betray her, and she falls in love with another BARGHEST soldier who she has grown close to.

It forms part of Chorus Timelines, an AU where basically any time something begins to rot my brain, a new timeline is created where said brainrot occurs. Vega goes through a lot, I feel sorry for her.

The second is an as-yet untitled Rogue x V fic, based on an idea I developed spontaneously on Discord. I thank @merlgeim and @awwwokay for planting the seed of brainrot in my mind. Basically, Rogue falls for V(ega) after Johnny and Rogue go on their movie date, and Johnny is beside himself over it all. Queue funny interactions with Johnny about how V stole his girl.

Virtual Photography

My VP is in a moment where I come up with cool ideas, I snap them, and they either become photo stories or illustrations for future chapters of my fics. I have a few non-specific ideas that will get put through, including another Val x Judy photo story set in 2077.

I've kinda based it around one idea, and that's putting V (Val's half-brother) to rest in the columbarium after he is presumably killed at the Crystal Palace. It's the last act she does before she and Judy leave Night City with the Aldecaldos, and a capstone to the tumultuous relationship she and V have had, with Vince's final epitaph.

"See ya, V. Save a seat for me next to mom at the big bar in the sky."

What I intend to be the last words of Valerie to V in Brother's Shadow. How we get there? We'll have to find out as I develop Brother's Shadow.

Other Random Stuff

I've decided that at some point, Val and Songbird can meet and be very normal about how similar their hair is.

...

That's about it. I would like to tag: @merlgeim, @awwwokay, @ratsstick and @byberbunk2069.

Thank you to everyone who follows and supports my horrific brainrot content, and enables my continued spiral into fanfic shenanigans. Please continue to tag me, comment and/or dm me.

Cheers.

[yanderecyberpunkimagines]

Good luck with your new blog! Royce with an obsession who is the daughter of a massive corporation’s rich CEO? Bet its impossibly difficult for him to get her! But I’m curious how it can go. We need more Royce.

--------------

Creative ask! And thank you very much! I’ll try to post things whenever I can, although very slowly as some may have already noticed.

And you are right! Underneath *normal circumstances*, I believe it’d be impossible for a gang such as the Maelstrom to kidnap someone of such a tremendously high profile. But, considering how V’s adventure went down, perhaps nothing is really impossible right at this point. Counting double in the glorious world of fanfiction. Of course, I wrote it in such a way what the risks are, and how big the chance would be in the way this universe works in my eyes. I also made a little scenario in case he manages to pull part of it off.

-------------

Warning: Gun violence, mentioning of gore!

Simon “Royce” Randall

All it took was the simple mention of your name in some magazine article as he surfed the net, looking for information about your father/mother's gigantic company and the latest high-end microchips and associated hardware and firmware they were about to release.

As a precaution, because he didn't quite know how intertwined you would be with corporate affairs surrounding your parent's company, he sought you out through various sources. Flawless skin, a pure smile, sparkling eyes and a youthful and innocent aura surrounded you with the surprisingly scant amount of photos he found about you, in addition to some minor details about who you approximately were like as a person…

You eventually got him hooked as heavily as a partygoer who snorted up their very first line of synthetic coke....

Getting to you directly is an impossible task for a notorious gang leader such as Royce. He doesn't have the right technology, the money, the influence, the reputation, the experience, the delicate skillset and the natural charm and social skills needed to even be able to get anywhere near you, let alone take you away underneath some pretense. Nor do any of his underlings or any of his direct contacts. He is smart and barely tactical enough to realize this, but not smart enough to spend any length of time viewing and observing the bigger picture, for he is incredibly impatient, aggressive and impulsive to the titanium synth-bone.

Still, his tough, ballsy and unpredictable nature might be the desired trait that could be his little blessing in a situation like this. Although there’s a huge chance that it could quickly become his unbreakable curse if he doesn't play his cards right. Especially because he’s about to play them in the middle of Night City, where even the air itself is under constant watch by almost every corporation out there.

Still, the very first thing he does is convincing his fellow gang members that you should be kidnapped anyway and used as a bargaining chip for large amounts of money, hardware and important information through some sort of an intermediate construct. Anyone who even thinks about questioning him about his crazy plan is eliminated almost immediately, causing the rest of the Maelstrom to automatically fall in line, not knowing that he intends to never let you go at all, especially when you somehow end up falling for the black-hearted Maelstromer in return.

Just to prepare for your kidnapping, he will cash in a lot of favors from various sources, try to get a rival corporation of yours to help him in some way and he will work his subordinates until they leak synth-blood to finance the operation itself. A little bit of extra manpower; especially a small group consisting of at least one experienced netrunner, the right corpo rat from your family’s corporation, one techie and two seasoned solos would be needed to successfully take you to him in a relatively short amount of time without leaving behind too many clues that his gang’s about to be involved in it. The ones who are not cheap at all, but whom he will drop and forget as if they are a very bad habit. As long as they get the job done without a single minor flaw, that is. He will randomly try to kill at least one of them in the most brutal fashion he can think of at the time if they do, without caring about the consequences, whatsoever.

Speaking of consequences; the chances of him successfully catching you are still very, very slim at this point. If anything, he will crash, burn and take most of the Maelstrom with him if they don't figure out soon enough what he is actually trying to do. If they do and realize what his actual plans are, then they’d love nothing more than to put him down like the murderous animal he already is that he has become when antagonized for the actual reason he’s set up this very risky, dangerous and downright psychotic operation.

If he by a wonder manages to get you, there’s still a lot that needs to be done.

First of all, your tracker would needs to be surgically removed and destroyed by a relatively skilled and trustworthy ripperdoc who isn’t too well known. A woman who he currently has at his disposal at Clean Cut clinic.

He also needs to find a way to vastly alter your biomonitor data- make you a completely different person than what’s recorded at NC’s MedCenter with an expired subscription up to boot. A person who obviously doesn’t exist in direct comparison to their records, but a creative plan of action for the time being. If it fails, he’ll just force the ripperdoc to disable, or preferably remove and/or replace it like he already planned to do with almost any other non-vital piece of [L/N]’s company chrome that may be embedded inside of your body. He wouldn’t want you to summon the Trauma Team; and even the S.W.A.T. and the [L/N] company’s private military forces to an extent, when the former realizes who it is they need to rescue from the abandoned All Foods factory after you may deliberately manage to hurt yourself somewhere in the short long run. 

One wrong move from the doc though, and an accidental ping from either your biomon or your tracker’s transmitting signal to the local open network may bring in a whole different kind of hell for the Maelstrom. Of course, Royce already planned that out too, although not at all in detail because he obviously isn’t the type who’d think too far ahead about any potential possibilities. He’ll throw the entire gang to the dogs as a pathetic attempt just so that he has a bit of a smoke screen to leave Night City as soon as he can, forcefully pulling you along with him with a rough sketch of a faraway destination already in mind.

In a way, it’s remarkable how a man who’s ended up having a large part of his frontal lobe removed managed to plan, organize the mission and execute it in the way he did the second he developed a severe crush on you. Of course, he’ll never lose his highly aggressive edge and has the distinct lack of being able to self-monitor and control most of his own actions. Actions which are often brutal and bloody by nature. Of course, he isn’t the smartest tool in the shed during certain situations, either.

Ending on that note; what if he magically manages to make the first few steps of his original plan to actually work? I imagine it goes something like this;

~Short scenario~

Your father/mother ultimately had a premonition of what the city's underworld was about to do with the information that the company's private security department had eventually gathered through trusted business associates and from the streets through the use of their company's ever-present undercover agents.... Although they could not yet determine exactly which gang would be the ultimate mastermind behind the up and coming attack.

Yet, the safest place for you to be at would be within the company's highly secured penthouse at the very top of one of the mega-buildings found in Night City’s City Centre, right between Biotechnica and Arasaka tower. You had to be transported from your family's private property in the middle of North Oak by air. They decided it should happen on the hush hush, so they believed it’d be better that no other company aerodynes with an unique set of extra bodyguards should circle around yours during transport. It would catch too many unwanted attention…

Unfortunately, it happened so quickly and from such strange angles, in meat- as in cyberspace, that they barely had time to firmly increase security around your well-being and to think this plan of action through with their private advisors, nor to fully prepare for a proper counterattack as a precautionary measure.

The company's aerodyne was struck by an unexplainable malfunction during flight, practically forcing it to land somewhere in the middle of an intersection barely on the outskirts of Japantown. Your personal group of bodyguards immediately arranged for reinforcements because of this sudden change in circumstance. One that seems almost perfectly orchestrated as black cars and SUVs swiveled through the string of suburban vehicles that have long since screeched to a halt at and near the surrounding traffic lights.

Or at least, the bodyguards tried to call for reinforcements just before the high-security communications line, normally used by the company's private security, was hijacked by an outside source. Apparently, your private tracker was also turned off, and you couldn’t get it back on after you ran your systems diagnostic and repair software, the latter somehow being corrupted by a virus.

This was the moment when everyone, including yourself, knew 100% that you were all currently under attack by a party that knew exactly what they were doing.

With the special locks activated and your group’s netrunner having hacked into the local network to determine the angle of the overall attack through the cameras, your bodyguards eventually instructed you to follow two of the guys as soon as they would unlock the left door, while the rest would cover your retreat by firing back from either sides of the AV. The final destination would be the exact coordinates of a S.W.A.T. team’s armored hovercraft that would meet you somewhere halfway, and had already been summoned for your immediate extraction the second the flying AV got struck. The rest of their cavalry would also soon arrive, including a fraction of your mother/father's private company army.

Your organic heart hammered indiscriminately against your ribcage the moment you saw a bullet fly by, followed by a pained scream echoing from somewhere across the other side of the aerodyne as you were pulled along.

Plenty of people scurried from their cars the second the shoot-out started, screaming in fear instead as they did.

With a quick glance, all you could see was that the people who were attacking you most definitely didn’t belong to the selfsame group. A group that clearly is not of the ordinary sort. Still, their disguises fully prevent you from seeing who they actually are.

"Eyes forward, Miss [L/N]!"

You obediently do as told, letting yourself be guided towards one of the side streets. From afar, you already see a bunch more people scrambling away for their lives after you’d rounded the corner- obviously haven heard the loud, distinct pops of gunfire from afar.

They escort you into a narrow side street, trying to bring you round back in order to avoid any vehicles that could have been zeroing in if they’d decided to take the main sidewalk directly towards the supposed destination instead.

Alas, the enemy took this scenario into consideration as a spray of blood suddenly washes over you just as your group entered some inner court between three skyscrapers.

 The bodyguard who walked in front of you slumps to the ground with a wide gape torn through his neck. You completely froze in place, eyes wide with fear and your nose instinctively crunching up at the distinct smell of warm iron.

The other who ran behind you pushes you to the side, ready to attack, only to be hit in the leg. He screams, still stands upright, and manages to take aim at one of three attackers. He shoots. As another bullet hits his selfsame leg- crippling him, his bullet pierces through the skull as they fall backwards. Dead.

Panicked, you try to help up the man, but he simply pushes away your arms. “Just go!” he screams, taking aim again.

Decided with a heavy heart, you start running back to where you came from, and look back. Another shot. This one hits the helmet of a mysterious guy who decided to rush forward with a shotgun.

A violent exhale of air escapes you, however, as your widened eyes rolled over the revealed face of one of your many attackers, showing you only a deep red set of LED optics.

Does this mean that It is the Maelstrom who is involved in your possible abduction? The most brutal and dangerous gang currently known to Night City? This is bad… Very bad…

He shoots the badly injured bodyguard in the head - and officially finishes him off, before coming after you like the devil is on his heavily modified hind legs.

Without losing another second, you run even faster and curve into one of the alleyways that directly leads towards the open road, already making a second attempt to turn on your personal tracker, but in vain. You needed admin access to turn it back on again.

It is certain now. There is a big rat lurking in your family's business. A rat that has somehow found the right software and protocols needed to remotely disable your tracker and overwrite it’s attached user access almost instantly.

With clenched teeth, you run in hopes of reaching the S.W.A.T. team that should be lurking somewhere nearby by now. But before you could round a corner, you are suddenly pulled back by the collar of your bloodied, expensive designer cardigan.

A lanky mechanical arm clamped you and both your arms against the attacker's larger body, before something was jammed into your neurosocket after being pried open, closely followed by a shard being inserted into your neuroport.

You kicked behind you, screamed and threw your head back at least once as an endless series of code and warning signs flashed before your fear-ridden eyes. The few blows you managed to land might as well mean nothing, for he was strong enough to take all your desperate hits. A man clearly jacked up by subdermal body plating and with bones long since replaced by a metallic endoskeleton.

Alas.

The world slowly turns to black after that as your body weakens by each passing second.

The last thing you could make out was the goon calling someone through a burner agent before you completely lost consciousness; “Caught ‘er, boss. We’ll be heading towards the meat processor straight up. Meet ya there halfway.”[1]

1 = I somehow stumbled on https://cyberpunk.fandom.com/wiki/Agent whilst searching for something else, and came on the idea that the Cyberpunk universe must have something similar to burner phones. I also bet that the Maelstrom’s smart enough to make use of such things during their most brutal and/or risky kidnappings and hit jobs.

[kleinewahines]

Verse Roulette | Judy (@torntruth)

Perhaps they hadn't slept in days. Perhaps they had simply gotten a little too deep into their own head for a while there. Either way, they weren't sure where the last few hours had gone and why the ol' bank account looked a bit lighter than it should. At least until noticing the empty bottles of beer and their system computer informing them of the addition of a new set of gorilla arms. Don't drink and buy cyberware, apparently. Luckily, it was something they'd actually use.

Stifling a yawn, V(i) checked the time. Almost noon. Sure, that seemed right. Rolled over, nearly fell off the couch they had been using as a bed. Meant to do that. Of course. A stretch revealed a patchwork of tattoos and scarring on the strip of skin between the hem of their shirt and pants to complement the work on their arms that was easily seen without obstruction thanks to the tanktop. To say nothing of the tattoo on one upper cheek which didn't entirely divert attention from the eyes that glowed a faint silver thanks to their modded Kiroshi optics.

"Mm. 'Ey, Judy, y'done with that rig update yet?"

V(i) couldn't actually see the diminutive techie thanks to the towering electronics but assumed she was still somewhere in the mess.

[cornley-amateur-drama-society]

Fics Posted: 2024

October

i. Passing Around Popcorn… — For Fictober 2024, part of Snack Time with Cornley

The next show season is approaching faster than Chris appreciates. He has too many ideas, and sent out an email to the cast and the techie managers to help narrow down the options. Alas, he forgot he was dealing with the Cornley Amateur Drama Society. It could never be that simple.

ii. For all they care, I can go to hell — For Fictober 2024, part of this peace is fragile

Prince Consort Max is not all that surprised to see his Guard Sir Dennis out on the practice field with the Beawynn knights and guards. He is surprised, however, at how the knights and guards act. From everything he has seen and heard since he stepped foot in Beawynn, the last thing he was expecting to see was fooling around with helmets. Lady Anneliese and Crown Princess Vanessa notice.

iii. If equal affection cannot be, Let the more loving one be me — For Fictober 2024, part of this peace is fragile

“I never expected I’d fall in love with him,” she said suddenly, in her half-drunken, vulnerable state. Lady Anneliese closed her eyes, her fingers stilling around the pin. “I know, Princess.” Her voice was soft, full of pity. Silence hung heavy like a mantle, and Lady Anneliese began the task of pulling out the different jewels that were in Princess Vanessa’s hair, the intricate braids falling apart as their support left them. In a small voice, weaker than anything Lady Anneliese had ever heard from her Princess before, she said, “He’ll never love me back, you know. He’s too in love with her.” Lady Anneliese took up the silver-backed brush, and began brushing the Princess’s hair. “… I know, Princess. I know.”

iv. the least we have to dread from man or beast — For Fictober 2024, part of this peace is fragile

“I have been nothing, nothing, but a loyal son to you, a loyal Prince to our Kingdom.” “You have been,” Robert agreed. --- Sir, I trust that Ambassador Admetus has arrived safely and hale in your lands.  He is one of my most trusted Advisors, and the only one whom I felt would be able to present you this letter.

v. though this might take me a little time — For Fictober 2024, part of this peace is fragile

King Christopher has received King Robert's response to the marriage proposal. Princess Vanessa of Beawynn will be wed to Prince Max of Bennegrove by Harvest. Preparations will soon be underway, just as soon as the Princess has spoken to a few members of her Household.

November

i. Admirer as I think I am — For Fictober 2024, part of this peace is fragile

There are many secrets hidden within Beawynn Castle. And not all of them should come to light. However, some secrets eke their way out of dark passages and hidden corridors, and into the knowledge of those who typically remain unseen.

ii. language and perspective shape the way we live

After the second week of the Cornley Drama Festival ends, of course, with members in A&E at St. George's of Cornley, Chris finds out that he has ignored his Mum's calls and texts for about two hours. Celia Bean is not a woman to be kept waiting.

iii. When You Give a Robert a Spell Book… — For Cornley Christmas Challenge 2024

It wasn’t ideal, suddenly disappearing from their universe and ending up in another. It was even less ideal when they realized that they weren’t human. Or It turns out, the spell book that everyone thought was a fake does actually work. And the Cornley Amateur Drama Society gets to face the consequences.

December

i. in the blink of an eye — For Cornley Christmas Challenge 2024

The Met Office did say snow was bound to fall tonight. Cornley just didn't expect how much would come down.

ii. Mr. Bean and the Family Christmas — For Cornley Christmas Challenge 2024

Chris only gets to see Uncle Roderick a few times a year. This Christmas, he’s staying with the family until New Year’s! Hopefully, Chris will be able to finish his latest play before then.

iii. The Lovebirds and Their Wish Lists — For Cornley Christmas Challenge 2024

Sandra cannot believe that she has a Christmas List, but Max doesn't. It's Max. His entire personality practically screams that he would. And yet… So, in her typical fashion, Sandra embarks on a mini quest to help him make one.

iv. The Grove Family's Sledding Adventure — For Cornley Christmas Challenge 2024

Denise is nervous and excited to meet Rob's older brother and younger sister today. She was an only child, so hearing tales of the Grove siblings growing up are very sweet to her. They were close, despite the age gap between Alex, the oldest, and Rob and Ellie, the two younger ones. And she would be meeting Rob's niece and sister-in-law as well. Her first trial of the Grove family before she goes to a Sunday dinner to meet their parents. She really, really, wants this to work out. She thinks, well… She hopes that there's a long-term future for her and Rob. And if that future is available, she's going to try her best to not muck it up.

v. The Great Gift Wrapping Caper — For Cornley Christmas Challenge 2024

She looked away for a second, a moment, a beat, even. How did Dennis manage to get into this situation in such a short amount of time?

vi. I want to tolerate drunk you, honey — For Cornley Christmas Challenge 2024, for 76 Kisses to Valentine's Day

A night out at a local pub for the Drama Society means that cast and crew alike are able to relax and enjoy themselves. But for three people specifically, it means watching the way that Trevor takes care of a drunk Dennis. Add a sprig of mistletoe into the mix, and hey! You've got yourself some Christmas fluff!

vii. If I Could Turn Back Time — For 76 Kisses to Valentine's Day

Despite how the last Improv Masterclass went, Vanessa was full of optimism that this next go at it would be better. Her latest ideas for the class did involve less audience participation to hold off on the amount of “Hull” ideas. Unfortunately, she cannot plan for where her fellow cast mates' minds will go when in a scene. This goes about as well as you'd think it would.

viii. these teeth mean to tear — For 76 Kisses to Valentine's Day

All Chris had wanted to do when he (begrudgingly) invited Robert to his flat for tea and to go through the script, was to do exactly that. Have tea and go through the script. But when their ways of approaching new material drastically go against the other's, tempers are bound to flare.

ix. Goes Off with a Bang — For Cornley Christmas Challenge 2024

The Cornley Techies have once again taken on the challenge of the Christmas Cracker. Hopefully, this batch doesn’t explode as… Energetically, as the ones did for The Spirit of Christmas.

x. Of stars that do not give a damn — For Fictober 2022, part of this peace is fragile

Lady Anneliese finds Prince Max—and he did insist they call him “Max”—and the Lady Sandra’s relationship suspicious.  He and Princess Vanessa are to be married by the end of the month, yet it does not seem like he has made any attempts to get to know her.  At least, not outside of when she is entertaining the Bennegrovian party.  Princess Lucy has spent time with Princess Vanessa on her own, getting to know her future sister-in-law, the woman her brother was to be wed to.  And King Robert has taken a stroll or two around the Gardens with his future daughter-in-law, evaluating the future Queen of Beawynn. But Prince Max, arguably the only one who really mattered in this, was never seen with her.

xi. How should we like it were stars to burn — For Cornley Christmas Challenge 2024, part of this peace is fragile

The Winter Solstice Festival is upon the Kingdom of Beawynn once again. A week full of food and light work and being with loved ones. It’s something that Beawynnites look forward to after harvest. This year’s Winter Solstice is even more special, as it is the first one that Prince Maxwell, Prince Consort of Beawynn will be celebrating with Crown Princess Vanessa and her father King Christopher. After all, in a time so joyous as this, how could anyone be sad?

xii. something's rotten in this state of bliss — For 76 Kisses to Valentine's Day

An excerpt from a longer fic I'm writing in which Chris gets to live in a “Goes Right” for him universe.

xiii. tragedy tastes sweet on you, my dear — For 76 Kisses to Valentine's Day

Miss Judith Montgomery and Miss Andrea Bullitt are as close as two young women can be. Or perhaps even closer. When Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery find out about their sordid relationship, they get to work on sending their daughter away to her Aunt's. Getting her out of the influence of Miss Andrea is the only way to keep their relationship with their daughter.

xiv. it's hard to speak with a sob in your throat — For 76 Kisses to Valentine's Day

Annie and Robert at St. Gregory's of Cornley after her electrocution during Peter Pan leads to insights that she hadn't had before.

xv. your eyes as they fix on me, full of confusion — For 76 Kisses to Valentine's Day

[MARIA WOODWARD leaves the room, door slamming shut soundly behind her.] EMILY: [Staring at the door, her back to CLARENCE] She's right. I shouldn't be here. [CLARENCE takes a step towards EMILY. She doesn't turn around.] CLARENCE: [voice pained] Emily. EMILY: [voice breaking] I'm just going to break her heart.

xvi. Truth? Dare. — For 76 Kisses to Valentine's Day

When Truth or Dare is added to a Cornley Cast Party where alcohol is already involved, shenans are bound to occur. If only someone had told Chris it would backfire on him…

xvii. and when morning comes, the sun is gonna shine — For 76 Kisses to Valentine's Day

Vanessa has never shown any interest in moving on from the Cornley stage. Sandra has made it very well-known that she would love to move out from under Cornley's spotlight into something bigger and brighter. So, when Ness is the one who gets offered these roles instead, she is completely out of her comfort zone. Luckily, since she's been planning on it for so long, Sandra at least has some ideas on what her lover should do.

[sharpen-your-hatchet]

Take My Nirvana - Judy x FemV [Chapter 4]

Desc: It's been over a year since V left Night City with the Aldecaldos. With Judy by her side, V's come to quite enjoy the "quiet life" that many of her past cohorts talked down upon. She's finished her merc life, and that suits her just fine. Unfortunately, even with 1000 miles between her and Night City - The merc life doesn't seem quite finished with her.

Rating: Mature Chapters: 4 (incomplete) Current Word Count: 12,850

Read on AO3: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Or, you can start reading below:

“V, you cannot be serious. You must be fucking joking.” Panam wipes her brow with the back of her sleeve as she rises from under her engine hood. She’s frowning, oil splattered face only lending to intensify her glare. V expected this kind of reaction, but God if it doesn’t suck having to go over the shock and frustration for a second time. 

Meeting up with Panam was supposed to be a good time. Whilst the Aldecaldos are here on biz, they always put aside at least a couple days - a week or two if lucky - to just hang out, tune up their vehicles, and have some down time. Instead, V’s just marched up to camp, pulled Panam aside and instantly shit over any chance of letting this visit be a normal one… But if anyone deserves to know, it’s the Aldecaldos. 

V takes a drag from Judy’s cigarette. They’ve both smoked a lot the last few days. “You think I’d fuckin joke about this, Pan?” She grumbles. V kicks gently at the dirt before leaning back against a stack of cargo, “Spent the last couple days putting so much ICE on our personal network you’d think we’re hidin’ government secrets.” 

Judy shuffles over to V and reclaims her cig. Panam looks at them both, then sighs. She grabs a wrench and leans back into the truck.

Keeping her hands busy; exactly what she does when she’s feelin’ antsy. 

“And you have not heard anything since?”  

“Nope. Couple of network pings but no hack attempts; nothin’ that even resembles a netrunner,” Judy chimes in as she prods at the tablet in her hand. “‘Course I’m an editor techie so I kinda need another pair of eyes on this.” 

Panam points her thumb behind her. “Carol should be able to help.” 

“Nova,” Judy hums, flashing V a smile before she traipses off. 

There’s a heavy silence. Truly, V doesn’t know what to say. What can she say to the person who risked everything to help take down Arasaka? Who watched her family sacrifice themselves, and was left with the responsibility of holding it all together after the smoke cleared? V kind of owes Panam everything, so it’s a little frustrating having to announce that shit may be hitting the fan in the near future.

After a minute, there’s a small clunk from the truck, and Panam drops her wrench to the floor with a frustrated sigh. She emerges from the hood again and takes a step back to compose herself. She pinches the bridge of her nose. V can just tell from her body language it’s taking a lot of effort to not be more visibly upset. “This is really shit news, V.” 

V leans down to pick up the wrench and hands it back, “I know, Pan… But I really do think I’m right ‘bout ‘Saka not knowin’’” 

Panam takes the wrench. Her eyes narrow as she mulls over her thoughts. She turns back to the engine and leans over it, hovering her wrench over a few common points of failure. She picks one and begins to tighten it, then says “It only takes one thing to come loose, and then you’re up shit creek, and blowing smoke for all to see.” 

Metaphors? Really? 

V joins Panam at the truck. She looks into the vehicle at the carefully maintained engine - a workhorse piece of machinery that has somehow stood the test of time despite being patched up more than the average chrome jock. The nomads really do know their stuff. Though, V does notice one thing… something that doesn’t necessarily belong on the average stock truck for a nomad driver.

She points at the custom part, hidden slightly under some wiring. “But… some parts are good at staying hidden, so the driver pro’lly wouldn’t even notice if somethin’ changed.”

Panam hits V with a glare. “What are you-”

“- What? Thought I was gonna miss a remote kill switch? ‘Member I come from nomads too..” V keeps her tone light, playful, hoping Panam will be jovial enough to atleast not bite her head off for having a smart ass retort.

It looks like Panam at least considers biting back, from the way she pauses before placing the wrench down again. She crosses her arms. So not in head biting territory, but definitely not happy. “Let us say you are right about this… That “Takemura” is working alone and he really wants your help, and we are not all in immediate danger of Arasaka trying to rain hellfire on us. Then what?” 

This is the bit that’s going to make V sound insane. She knows it; Judy knows it - and fuck, Panam will definitely know it in just a minute. Judy’s got a headstrong and snarky streak when there’s a nerve hit (and V is aware the current situation is hitting many nerves), but Panam? Well… Upsetting Panam is like shaking a soda then popping the tab.

V takes a step away to lean against another crate of cargo. She needs to hit the non-chalant act perfectly; make it seem like it’s all under control. “Easy. I talk to Goro, see what he wants, and if it’s easy and has a low chance of us getting fuckin’ flatlined then I do it.” 

Panam hits V with a look… and oh, if looks could kill. 

V feels her back raise, “Pan I get it, you don’t gotta fuckin’ look at me like that- But what are my options here? Pack up mine and Judy’s life after what I promised her? Keep ignorin’ Takemura until Arasaka does know we’re in Seattle? Or I just talk to the guy and see why he wants my help so fuckin’ bad?” 

Panam takes a step back, raising her arms in a silent cry of frustration. She turns away. “You are really testing me today, V. How do you even know it’s really him?” 

V pulls her mouth into a line. “I don’t. I don’t know anythin’ but I just wanted you to know, okay? You guys can get your biz done and skip town. Me and Jude will manage.” 

Panam turns back. “What are you even suggesting?” She’s looking at V like she’s grown a second head. “We are not turning our backs on you like that.” 

“What-”

“I really do not like this, but I will stay and help. We all will.”

A silent understanding passes between them. Of course Panam agrees to help. V shouldn’t have even questioned it. You don’t get involved with a nomad clan unless you’re willing to shed sweat, blood, piss, and tears for your fellow family… But V would be lying if she doesn’t at least feel a little shitty for what might be coming. 

Hopefully it’s just a whole lotta nothing. Still, being on guard never hurts. 

Judy returns a moment later. She’s a little confused looking, squinting as she goes over the info on the tablet again. “So we looked at the logs…” She starts. “There’s not much to go on. Whatever gear was used, it’s not citizen grade shit. Carol explained it like instead of digging a tunnel and leaving a clear path of where it’s been, it’s sort of digging the tunnel and filling the dirt behind it instantly.” 

Now that isn’t a whole lot of nothing at all. That sounds like very abuseable tech. Netrunning that’s fully untraceable? Hacks that are coding a cloak around themselves? Very fucking sneaky… and very Arasaka. “So you’re tellin’ me that Takemura - the guy who could barely figure out texting - was somehow using some secret untrackable netrunnin’ tech?” 

“Seems like it.” Judy replies, realising herself how unbelievable it sounds. 

V can’t help the exasperated sigh that follows. “This just keeps getting more fuckin’ gonk by the minute.” 

Judy offers the tablet to V but she declines to take a look. She won’t understand it, not if it’s something completely unknown even to Carol. Certainly, this makes things a little more complicated; gives V a slight hesitancy at reaching back out to Takemura - who knows what this tech is capable of? If it could hijack V and keep her trapped inside a BD, who’s to say it can’t do way worse? She stares into space as she mulls this over, coming to a moment later. Both Panam and Judy are looking at her expectantly. “What’re you lookin’ at?” 

They both exchange a glance. “Well,” Panam pipes up. “This is usually the part where one of us throws caution to the wind and does something dramatic.”

V wrestles with her concern. She pushes off the cargo crates and stares out towards the rest of the camp. This is a lot. It’s not “ Violent removal of narcissist rockerboy engram from your head now meaning you have six months to live” serious but… It’s certainly got V feeling like her back is against a wall. She refuses to back down but it feels like she’s currently staring into a faceless void with no hint of what to actually expect. There’s so many paths - some where there’s zero consequences; some where what remains of Arasaka is busting down their door. How is she supposed to know what leads where?

Too many fuckin’ unknowns. Fuck. 

Judy comes up behind her and places a hand on V’s arm. “Hey, I can see your head runnin’ away… Just remember we’ve taken on worse before.”

V continues to stare at the nomad camp. She watches as the various Aldecaldos mingle, helping eachother out carrying cargo; working on their cars… Judy’s right - they’ve taken on worse; lived to tell the tale. V just hates that they’re in this situation again. It’s like if she looks at the group of nomads in just the right light, all she can see is the blood they’ve shed for her. She can’t let that happen again. “No drama today, but we gotta be prepared for anythin’. We keep goin’ forward and assess danger as we go.” V says firmly. She turns back around to face Panam and Judy, “Maybe me and Jude should stay here a couple days. Pro’lly safer than our apartment. You think Carol will mind us usin’ her gear?” 

“Of course she will,” Panam says with a shrug. “But I’m the boss.” 

V looks at Judy and takes her hand. “You good with this?” 

“Stayin’ where we’ve got resources? Definitely,” Judy replies, giving V’s hand a squeeze. “I’ll take your bike and go grab us a few days of clothes; you do what you gotta do, mi amor. ” V offers a smile and with a kiss on her cheek, Judy slips away. Panam looks at V and playfully rolls her eyes, but says nothing before turning back to her vehicle to continue working.

That settles it, then. They’re committing to this - she’s committing to this. Whilst V had said it in the height of anger a few days ago, it feels more solid now; like an actual plan than a suggestion. There’s no time to delay then… she should grab the phone number from her deleted messages, and open up a line of contact. Maybe on one of those old physical phones the nomads keep around just to be safe. Carol should have one.

V bids Panam good luck with her truck, then saunters into the clearing where the nomads have set up camp. The smaller towns and cities on the outskirts of Seattle are near-on abandoned these days, so the forests and nature reserves serve the perfect place for the Aldecaldos when it’s time to pay a visit. It’s beautiful out here; it’s nice to escape the hustle of the city sometimes. 

Approaching Carol’s tent, V hits her with a smile and Carol responds with a questioning glare. “And just when I was beginning to think I would have peace for the rest of the day…” Carol tuts, as she then turns back to her computer. “I already told Judy everything I know, hermana .”

V treads into the tent. She leans carefully on Carol’s desk. 

Dazzlin’ fuckin’ personality as always.

“Not here to ruin’ your day,” V gets straight to the point. Best way to deal with Carol, frankly. “Just need a burner phone.” 

Carol glares at her again. “What do you need a burner phone for? You have a holo.” 

“Holo can’t be a burner phone, choom.” 

Carol mumbles under her breath in Spanish before reaching into a drawer beside her and sliding an old slab of a phone across to V. V picks it up and turns it over in her hand. God, she’s glad that she has her holo - having to carry around something like this just seems like such a hassle. At least this is just for temporary use. 

“Don’t say I never help you.” 

V throws Carol some fingerguns, much to her lack of amusement, before she leaves the other woman in peace. V then makes her way across the campsite and slips into Panam’s tent. It’ll be a while before hers and Judy’s is set up - so this is the best option for a modium of privacy. Panam shouldn’t mind… emphasis on “shouldn’t”.

V pulls the phone out of her pocket, then opens up her holo. Navigating into her deleted messages, she scrolls past a few spam texts until she comes upon the deleted messages from earlier in the week. She copies the number over to the handheld then stares at the device for a moment, wondering what to say. 

What the hell am I supposed to say to him… 

Her thumbs ghost over the keyboard, starting; stopping, unable to decide what’s the best course of action… but then she considers Takemura’s own behaviour; his lack of respect. Why should she be on her best behaviour? It’s not like he was.

Fuck it, she decides, hitting the call button instead. 

But alas, no answer. 

She figures she should’ve guessed that would happen, but it was worth a shot. She reopens the texting app. Guess it’s time she starts the conversation in the only way she knows how in situations like this. 

[V: It’s V. Tell me what the fuck you want.]

She drops down onto Panam’s bed, leaving the phone at her side. She can’t say she’s necessarily nervous about all this, but there’s a certain anticipatory feeling - like her body is thrumming; ready to make a move. Just how she used to feel before a gig. Unfortunately, V can’t say it feels particularly good either. 

A few minutes pass. V stares at the ceiling of Panam’s tent. 

The phone trills with a notification. 

[Takemura: V? This is not your usual number.]

[V: Little precaution after your last trick.] 

A typing notification appears, hangs for a second then disappears. Another minute passes. 

[Takemura: I understand.]

[Takemura: So you are offering your help?]

[V: Not offering anything. Wanna know what the hell you want first.] 

[Takemura: Not over text. In person.]

V stares at the phone… In person? So Takemura is in Seattle? No, that doesn’t make sense…especially if he’s a prisoner of Arasaka like he said. 

[V: And how’s that exactly gonna work?]

[Takemura: You must join me again in virtual space.]

Right, The BD… Or, well, whatever he did to the BD wreath to make it a digitised meeting room. A cold chill runs down V’s spine. She’s not a fan of that idea. Not after last time. She’s not taking any chances like that. 

[V: You think I’m a gonk? No fucking way. Gotta be another option.]

[Takemura: It is the only safe option. I will send you the details. Contact me tomorrow.] 

Takemura then sends through a string of numbers and code. It’s largely unintelligible, but contains some netrunning phrases V vaguely recognises. If she were to wager anything, she’d say it’s some sort of net address, but it’s not like any she’s seen before. She still struggles to believe Takemura of all people is handling this kind of technology. Something just doesn’t add up. 

Still, V will at least accept the small victory of knowing she was right about the phone number. Unfortunately, it pales in comparison to the frustration of knowing this is playing directly into Takemura’s hand… She needs to get Carol to look at this code. There’s gotta be some way they can get the upper hand here. 

That’s gonna be a great fuckin’ conversation.

V drops the phone by her side and lays back. She sighs. 

Panam steps into the tent a moment later. She pauses as she notices V. “V, I understand that this is a stressful moment for us all, but I do not hope this is your attempt to proposition me.” Her words drip with deadpan snark. It’s a little unexpected, but it’s welcome to hear she’s in a brighter mood - V was half certain she’d be getting herself more and more worked up. “It would be highly inappropriate given the circumstances.” 

V leans up on her elbows. “Nah, as much as Jude and I had fun the few times that’s happened, we’re pretty happy as a duo. Was jus’ using your tent whilst I got in contact with Goro.” 

Panam grabs a towel and slings it over her shoulder. She shifts her weight onto one hip, fidgeting slightly. She’s very clearly not as chill as her words would make out. “So the plan is in motion, then?” 

“Sure is,” V replies, holding up the brick phone in her hand. “He wants to talk.”

“So you’re going to meet up with him?” 

“Not exactly… Wants to meet in cyberspace again. He sent me some detes.” 

Panam frowns. “After what he pulled with the BD wreath? Something about this-”

“- Doesn’t feel right? Yeah. Just ‘bout what I was thinkin’ too.” 

They continue to chat. Panam’s much more of a mechanic than tech head, but she understands people at the very least. She thinks it’s strange that a man like Takemura - who V has always described as very traditional - would track V down but not show his face… She surmises that maybe if he is trying to be sneaky, then in-person meetings are risky for them both. Panam compares Arasaka to something from some old book; something about ‘big brother’ always watching. V doesn’t really know what it means, but she does understand the point Panam is trying to make: if Takemura really is hiding something from Arasaka, it’s a lot easier if there’s no physical proof of them meeting… Which makes a lot of sense. 

Panam does also make it perfectly clear she thinks V is an idiot for humouring this whole thing, but understands that sometimes it’s either one shit option or another… and it’ll be a shit option she will help navigate regardless. If nothing, V appreciates the honesty (and to be honest, she agrees it’s insane.). She then leaves V after a while to go shower, making a point of saying that her and Judy’s tent should now be ready. V takes the hint gladly. 

Upon reaching her own tent, V is quick to kick off her boots, and lay spread across the bed. It’s not quite the luxurious king bed she and Judy share at home, but there’s something grounding about the familiar feel of a nomad tent. It’s been a pretty long day so far and she can feel the lull of sleep tugging at her eyes. A nap would be nice… Takemura hasn’t messaged anything since his last text. V still has a million questions burning in her mind, but it seems pretty obvious he’s only willing to talk in the way he’s requested. So stubborn and typical of a man like him, but there’s no point in thinking too much about it. He said to find him tomorrow - so that’s what she’ll do, as much as the wait is both tedious and annoying.  Trying to rush things just leads to mistakes. 

V tugs the blanket over her, curling up on her side. With the gentle camp bustle outside, and the warm but pleasant air, V’s asleep in minutes. The last thing she remembers is hearing the gentle roar of a motorbike engine drifting towards camp before the world fades into black.

[strangedynastystories]

Keir "V" Van Morrison || Rebirth

Personal playthrough off stream...

Gender: Non-Binary (He/Him) Ethnicity: White, Scottish

Role: Netrunner, Techie Skills: Cool, Reflexes, Intelligence, Technical

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Background: Street Kid, Criminal

Personality Trait: I would rather make a new friend than a new enemy. Ideal: Chains are meant to be broken, as are those who would forge them.  Bond: Someone I loved died because of I mistake I made. That will never happen again. Flaw: Once I start something, I must see it out to the end.

CW/TW: Please be advised that this game/stream/content may contain the following: blood, gore, amputation, nudity and sexual themes, intoxication and drug use, vulgarity, references to/hints of rape and paedophilia, torture, self harm and suicide.

I've always loved games that let you modify your appearance in-game, and especially when it's an RPG. Cyberpunk is no exception - of course I would change V's appearance after the prologue. After all, he did just literally die, be put back together, nearly die again, and awaken to find out he has a terminal condition - on top of having his best friend die in his arms. Trauma, of all kinds, changes you.

So now V has a big scar and white hair, because I'm really original /s lol.

Personal Note: I definitely cried during the funeral, again, though not as hard as the first time. I think I can get through it and move forward - I really do like this game and it's important to important people in my life. So I will get through it. I know that, regardless of how little I know of this game and the short progress I've made, the good ending will be a Hopepunk one, if not bittersweet.

Both Jackie and my best friend were very genuine, selfless, bleeding hearts. If I have learned nothing from them, it will be that the little joys matter - chase that joy, no matter how small or silly. There is good in this world, we just need to see, and we need to be it.

Trauma and Grief changes us, it alters us permanently - but we can heal, we can recover. Despite it all, the megacorpos and hatemongers out there, we will laugh and we will sing and we will be the good.

[elvenbeard]

2076

"I'm tellin' ya, mano, this is only the beginning! A few months down the line we're gonna be Night City legends!"

"I think before I wanna be a legend I'd just like to start feelin' like myself again..."

The day Vince was sacked in November of 2076 was the newest low point of his life. He'd lost everything, from a job he was good at, financial security, to what he'd assumed had been friends. Over the course of the year his health had been on a steady decline, mentally and physically. His first so harmonious, almost too-perfect relationship with an older coworker had found an abrupt and bitter ending filled with betrayal. Jenkins' paranoia and revenge fantasies reached new heights, and several particularly precarious operations went wrong in a row. To cope with the stress, silence his depression and anxieties, and be able to keep up with his coworkers-turned-competitors' performance, Vince turned to substance abuse over the course of his last 6 months at Arasaka.

In Jackie's eyes, the termination of Vince's contract couldn't come soon enough, seeing his friend spiral and lose himself in the corporate mud more and more with each passing day.

Like many times before - even though this one had been Vince's highest fall so far - Jackie helped him back to his feet. He and his mother took Vince in and kept him company through his withdrawal from both self- and corporate-administered drugs. Slowly but surely he got better.

From the first day they'd known, Jackie had always urged Vince to consider teaming up as mercs. Together they'd be one hell of a duo, muscle and tech, street-smarts and corporate education, guns and hacking. They'd make it far in Night City's underground world in no time, or so he thought.

By 2076, Jackie was a respected Solo, particularly in Heywood, but still far from achieving his dreams of becoming a legend - and really, those had always been Jackie's dreams alone. Sure, Vince wanted to leave an impact and be remembered, not just fade away into the shadows, but who didn't? Dying in a blaze of glory though, never reaching age 30, just for the money and fame, for doing other people's dirty work? He never saw the appeal... but also, so far he'd failed to find a satisfying middleground.

By mid-December 2076 Vince had somewhat recovered, had been clean for a little over a month, but his cash started to run dry. The next time Jackie asked him to accompany him on a job - just a small one, a little favor for a choomba, nothin' dangerous or dramatic - Vince gave in and tagged along. "Just this once," he told himself, simultaneously looking for other job opportunities. He even considered going back into the corporate world, a smaller company, something less exhausting than Counterintel, maybe media, or a lowly techie position like Jenkins had intended for him originally.

But the small job went well, was fun, even. Jackie's enthusiasm had always been infectuous. After everything he'd done for Vince, he didn't think it fair to continue saying no to him and to something that indeed worked out better than he could have ever imagined... He still had no intentions of dying young, or a legend, but as Jackie put it: would be a shame to let all that Arasaka training go to waste, so why not use it to do some good with it, help themselves and others in their lives?

Vince through the years (6/9)

The set above is basically the followup to this VP comic I did a while ago, the evening after V's and Jackie's first job together.

As mentioned, Vince was never eager to be a merc, and by early 2077 he simply treats it as one of his many previous part-time jobs: a way to keep a roof above his head, food on the table, and make use of his skills somehow. Maybe do some good, or at least leave a positive impact on a single person's life after 4 years of corporate scheming.

He is sort of picky with the gigs he takes, always weighs pros and cons. Sometimes he takes a gig he usually wouldn't out of sheer curiosity. But thievery and sabotage, even rescue missions, are really his favourite things to do because they come closest to what he did for Arasaka predominantly.

It really is easy money with his skills and knowledge, and also usually non-violent. I think that would be the main reason why he decides to go on with the Konpeki Plaza Heist with Jackie in the end, despite having a bad gut feeling. With the information they have it seems like something just down his alley, and he's very confident that he did his best in setting everything up. His biggest mistake is really putting so much trust in Dex doing his part for the preparation of the heist.

Vince is really used to his superiors just supplying him with all necessary info, no questions asked - both back at Arasaka and with the fixers he's worked with at that point, mainly Regina and Wakako. Both are thorough and reliable, do their work, hold nothing back that could be useful. He is also used to his team-members speaking up if they think something feels off. But I think T-Bug is in a similar boat as him, confident that all will go as planned, in her mind already in Cyprus. And Jackie, who just really really wants this to happen so badly, does not speak up despite potentially having a bad feeling.

So, even though Vince feels like all of it sounds too good to be true, everyone else involved being so confident and presenting themselves so competent, in combination with Jackie's aforementioned enthusiasm, convinces him that his own worries may be unjustified. He's overthinking, this can't go wrong, they were all really thorough, they can count on each other... right?

He'll learn the hardest way possible that on the street the saying "every man for himself" is even more prevalent than in the corporate world in the end.

(CW below for drug abuse talk!)

Little sidenote re: Vince's substance abuse. I often put great emphasis on the fact that he neither smokes nor drinks, one of the many reasons why Johnny pisses him off so much by doing both regardless and repeatedly whenever he's in control of his body later. Not smoking is really just Vince's personal preference here, but he actually wouldn't mind drinking now and then - his body is really just against him on this. He can't process alcohol well and just gets drunk and nauseous really quickly, even from "just a beer" or "just a glass of wine". So he avoids it, not for moral high ground reasons but more "I dont wanna puke my guts out and have a headache for three days" reasons.

Since drinking and smoking are off the table when it comes to numbing himself through his worst time at Arasaka, drugs are the next best thing. Initally it was just downers and sleeping pills, but when those started affecting his performance during daytime, he picked up neuroboosters and other performance enhacing stuff. It was a constant struggle to balance this drug-cocktail out, in combination with the canonical stress-blockers Corpo!V is on during the start of the game.

In short, by the time Vince is kicked out, he's a walking pharmacy and needs some time to readjust to a life without being constantly on something. He's doing his best to remain clean once he gets there... and he hates that taking pills is the one thing he can do to silence Johnny, cause it brings back a lot of bad memories and associations. It's probably one of the main reasons why he ends up talking to him more instead of just blocking him out like he used to block out everything else for a while. And even though he never fully trusts him, this way he at least gets to understand him better and gains his trust and understanding in return.

[hashimasims]

*super anger eye twitch!!!* OK rant time and I normally don't ever do this I generally sit in the background and let people have their little tantrums and go about my day BUT . . . You have got to me freaking kidding me right? Wanting (because I cannot confirm or deny this has happened) to expose personal information of a modder because they haven't updated their mods yet? GROW DAFUQ UP!! As simandy here has stated this is a game we are all playing virtual dolls essentially and I think it's about time someone grounded you and took away your toy privileges. GTFO uninstall the game no refund for you no one wants to be your friend no more take your ball and go home (maybe I'm being a bit mean here but COME ON! WTF!)

Don't get me wrong there are a few mods that I ABSOLUTELY L-O-V-E and really don't want to play without but I can. I'm sure one of the mods is what is being referred to here. No one else has named names that I have seen so neither will I. Do I really want these mods updated? yes yes of course but again I know that modders are human (absolutely amazing humans that make this game SOOO much better - are we sure they're not some weird techie deities? Because I sure as hell can't do what they do) and have lives outside of the little pixel peoples whether it be families real IRL jobs hell just a good old fashion garshdarn vacation. You do you boo and the rest of us will patiently wait over here

I need everyone to sit with me on the floor for a second. You guys remember this is a community centered around a dress up game, right? A simulation game. You know. EA once stared down at SimCity and asked themselves: "hey! Those people screaming down there, because of the alien attack, what are they thinking about?" And then we got The Sims. This is what this community is about. You remember that, right? We're all just a bunch of nerds (affectionate) playing a videogame. We are ALL nerds. You are not the cool kid for bullying another nerd. In the end of the day you are also a nerd who's obsessed with a game. And I mean this with all the kindness in my heart. We were supposed to be sharing our little colorful pixel people and cheering for each other's games and stuff. How does "hey this modder didn't update my favorite mod in 5 days now. I should expose their address online for strangers to harass him personally" comes to one's mind??? Over a dress up simulation game???? Hello??? Respect your other nerd friend! Stop biting, kid! I'm calling your mom!

[trashcatsnark]

Some Cyberpunk NPC Fashion Headcanons: Misty, Judy, and Panam

Okay, so this has been burning in the back of my brain for five thousand years- as an unfashionable fatass loser who loves the idea of clothes and style in theory, I project this love onto fictional characters. Mostly my oc, but also canon characters. So, of course in game characters wear one outfit but I've developed kind of my own idea of what their style would be based both off those canon outfits and the vibes I get~

If you disagree, that's your business- but I'm having fun with the barbie dolls rn.

Misty- Cozy quirky goth gf

dresses in quirky goth fashion or like a victorian ghost, no in between

eclectic as fuck

cozy sweaters are always a favorite though

dresses with peter pan collars, i have no explanation, i just feel it

those kitschy chunky earrings that are like little raisin boxes or like weird clown babydolls

general kitsch touches, she likes things a little weird, keeps life interesting

**crystals~**

definitely has a purse or bag with thousand of weird little pins and keychains- she sees the value of minimalism but she just loves weird cute little things

fishnets and different patterned tights

weird chunky boots

Examples:

Judy- Punk contrast techie

shorts and overalls obviously, always with a strap undone for the aesthetic~

idk why but i just get the vibe she loves asymmetry- one shoulder, asymmetrical cut out, fuck yeah

and like contrasting patterns and stuff, like shorts and pants with mismatching legs

i see her in bright plaid punk pants, it just fits the vibe, don't ask me why

crop tops more often than not- likes showing off her tattoos

bushido merch

not a big jewelry gal but she likes a fun belt

has to have pockets- do not get her on the topic of non-functional pockets

feel like she probably has tattooed on eyeliner, not her full eyeliner look is tattooed- but like a base layer of it is

has band merch shirts and clothes too for sure, she's passionate about her interests and will wear them with pride

Examples:

Panam- Nomad tomboy gremlin

fashion isn't exactly a huge priority in the nomad world, but Panam still has her taste- notably her love of bodysuits

also does love the off the shoulder look- but finding bras that work with it and her tits is the bane of her existence

Bras are generally the bane of her existence- you wanna hear a rant ask this woman about having the underwire snap in her last good bra and stabbing her in the tit when she's 4 hours into a 12 hour drive and miles away from civilization

cargo pants, torn jeans, and ratty shorts

so many of her clothes are torn

tattered old crop tops and tanks

almost always has her aldecaldo jacket thrown over whatever she's wearing- even if it clashes

also not a big jewelry person, just not super practical- her and a friend in the clan tried to piece their own ears when they were kids and all they did was earn themselves some nasty infections

this girl has camo pants, idk if that's my brain associating her with 6th street from that one gig or the connection between aldecaldos and vets- this girl has camo pants

more of her clothes are stolen from other aldecaldos than she'd care to admit

Examples (ignore the jewelry in some of these):

Bonus Round:

My V (Aidan Becker)- crouching punk hidden pastel

leather jacket 9 times out of 10 (definitely stole it off a corpse)

black crop tops, stomach almost always showing

ripped pants and shorts, often with fishnets beneath

subtle hidden touches of cute stuff, like she'll take off her combat boots and have pink heart socks on beneath

skirts when she's feeling fancy or slutty

flannels for pops of colors occasionally

if she's not one arm raise away from flashing her tits- whats the point?

only wears bras if they're meant to be seen

bright blue nail polish always

teddy bear hoodie when she's home alone and vibing- very few have seen it, embarrassed by it- but it's very cozy

Examples:

[wanderingaldecaldo]

🚓💻 for the meme-ory!

Thanks for the ask, bb! 💙 Using Streetkid Val as default... From the Core Meme-ory game:

🚓- River Ward

As V walks up to the table, River's partner makes her immediately. River scowls up at her and she inhales sharply when she sees his face close up. She knew from looking him up on NCPD that he'd be handsome but he's even moreso in person, and then his width -- he takes up half the booth.

As usual when interacting the first time with someone attractive, V nearly forgets how to speak and gapes at the two detectives before she finally gets out, "You River Ward?"

Good job, fucking gonk. Of course, that's him.

"In the flesh. V, right?"

💻- Judy Alvarez

V follows Evelyn into the room, eyes widening as she scans all the equipment. Judy is the real deal, looks like, and then her eyes land on Judy herself, oblivious to their presence as she works -- her features made soft by the flashing BD lights; her asymmetric colored hair; her overalls and sneakers, with one foot kicked up on the desk. Evelyn clears her throat and Judy finally looks up. She glances first at V, and her stomach does a little flip, then she turns to Evelyn.

"Hey, there you are," she says with clear affection. Evelyn, for her part, acts professional and introduces Judy as the best BD editor she knows.

V doesn't doubt it, and because she can't talk to people she thinks are attractive, she starts rattling off the equipment she recognizes. At least Judy seems to appreciate it, but V can't shut up and keeps going, bringing up the faulty matrices on the expression translator, as if any BD editor with half a brain couldn't swap out the matrices. Before Judy can lecture her on just how easy it was, Evelyn clears her throat again and Judy holds up a hand in surrender.

"All right, all right."

V sighs. It's not the first time she's fallen for a cute techie with a problematic girlfriend.