mchanics

[mchanics]

this  has  been  fun  but  i  am  archiving  henry  as  a  muse  until  further  notice.        simply  my  interest  in  cyberpunk  has severely  dried  out  and  i  find  it  difficult  to  write  here.        if  you  want  to  stay  mutuals,        head  up  to  @mngrels  which  is  where  i  am  currently.

[mchanics]

IN    THE    RUBLE    AND    IN    THE    COLD    THE    BUTTERFLY    TOOK    IT’S    LAST    BREATH;        mechanical  rebirth:                          this  isn’t  you!        or  is  it?

                                                   >    READ    THE    SHARD?

[mchanics]

CAMILLA  ELIZABETH  NORDIN-EURODYNE,    as told by gloom.

[mchanics]

𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞    𝗗𝗢𝗚    𝗜𝗡    𝗠𝗬    𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗                          guiding    me    to    the    end.        johnny  silverhand  from  the  world  of  cyberpunk;        as  told  by  gloom.

[mchanics]

i  am  going  to  be  heavily  rebooting  henry;        nothing  dropped,        don’t  worry.

[mchanics]

maybe corpo henry is the way to go.

[mchanics]

​                  yorinobu ​,    yorinobu arasaka.

“𝐀   𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑   𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐈   𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑,   𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃'𝐒   𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓   𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄   𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄   𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐂?”   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓   makes   Yori   laugh,   a   deep   chuckle   emitting   from   deep   within   his   chest.   So   deep,   he   wonders   if   Henry   can   feel   it   under   her   grasp.   He   smiles   and   tilts   his   head   up   to   the   ceiling,   fingertips   gently   tracing   across   the   vast   expanse   of   her   back.   “You’re   funny,   you   know   that?   And   cute.   Real   cute.”   And   all   his,   clearly.   A   teenage-crush   turned   romance   only   years   later,   a   real   sob   story.   The   tabloids   would   devour   it   like   candy.  

“I   think   secret   relationships   are   more   fun.   We   get   to   sneak   around   and   make   out   in   back   alleys   while   people   wonder   where   we’ve   gone.   Nobody   would   know.   No   one   prying   into   our   personal   lives.”   It   sounds   like   a   dream.   “But,   I   suppose   you’re   right.   I’m   too   in-love   to   care   what   people   think.”   As   if   on   cue,   he   rolls   over   to   face   her,   rough-yet-gentle   hand   cupping   her   cheek   and   pulling   her   close.   “I   don’t   have   enough   self   control   to   keep   you   from   my   life,   anyways.   You’re   stuck   with   me,   and   this   shitty   lifestyle.”  

maybe  seventy  years  ago  she  would’ve  liked  the  strange  burlesque  of  tip-toeing  around  their  relationship                something  forbidden,    the  corporate  fruit  she  was  not  meant  to  even  look  at,    let  alone  eat  whole  by  means  of  greedy  arms  full  of  it.    but  it  was  not  seventy  years  ago,    and  she  was  not  a  brunette  wearing  a  skirt  a  little  too  short,    awkwardly  trapped  against  the  body  of  a  far  too  clingy  one  nightstand  where  she’d  slip  away  and  never  look  him  in  the  face  again.    she  was  not  bitter  thirty-year-old  nomad  either,    who  had  turned  away  and  fled  the  country  when  the  ever  permanent  desire  to  follow  yorinobu  into  the  static  life  became  too  much  for  her  to  breathe  through  her  nose.    it  had  scared  her  then                               how  easy  it  seemed  to  throw  away  everything  that  she’d  been,    was,    to  return  to  arasaka  with  him  after  the  death  of  his  brother.    so  she’d  left,    leaving  him  only  the  memories  and  mutually  ruined  experiences.    

she  had  grown,    changed,    matured.    roses  grow  and  lose  thorns,    and  it  had  been  much  the  same  for  henry  during  the  fifty  years  where  they’d  not  been  in  any  contact,    where  she’d  kept  her  eyes  on  the  clear  road  in  front  of  her  and  avoided  any  commitment  to  the  land,    the  people  and  the  sun  come  morning.    her  fingers  graze  over  his  knuckles,    her  own  hand  settling  over  the  back  of  his.    when  her  eyes  close,    she  feels  the  same  burning  cold  behind  the  eyelids  that  one  does  when  they  try  to  blink  the  tiredness  away.    her  eyes  flutter  open  again  to  gaze  at  him:    her  eyes  far  too  open,  silver  telling  him  everything  he  needed  to  know  about  what  was  going  on  behind  the  colour.  the  hesitancy,  the  regrets,  the  bad  and  the  good  times.  softly  she  returns  the  gesture  by  resting  both  of  her  hands  on  his  cheeks,  pulling  him  down  for  a  quick  peck  to  the  chin.    ‘  ‘  we  can  still  make  out  in  back  alleys  ...  we  can  sneak  around  like  teenagers  as  much  as  you  want.  but  ...  i  don’t  want  to  be  a  secret,  and  i  don’t  want  you  to  be  a  secret.  i  want  this  to  be  different  from  what  it  was,  i  don’t  care  if  i  lose  all  my  punk  points  or  somethin’,  i  just  ...  want  to  be  with  you,  properly.  ’  ’    and,  without  saying  it:    forever.

[mchanics]

​                  yorinobu ​,    yorinobu arasaka.

“𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄   𝐍𝐎𝐓   𝐀   𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄.”   𝐇𝐄   𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒   𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐋𝐘,   𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐀   𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐓   𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄   her   and   kicking   his   feet   up   on   the   coffee   table.   “Besides,   you   look   really   good   in   that   shirt.   I’m   surprised   she   didn’t   try   to   hit   on   you   instead.”   Yorinobu   didn’t   understand   it,   the   fantasies   that   involved   him.   It   made   him   feel   odd   –   not   exactly   uncomfortable,   but   something   close   to   it.   He   was   one   of   the   most   wanted   men   around,   it   seemed.   Especially   his   employees   and   other   corpo’s   alike.  

They   couldn’t   get   enough   of   the   mysterious   black   sheep,   the   black   sheep   that   had   decided   that   his   heart   belonged   with   Henry   long   ago.   “At   least   she   didn’t   waste   any   cash   with   these   snacks.   They   look   delicious.”   His   voice   drops   to   a   mutter   as   he   reaches   for   a   chocolate,   inspecting   it   closely   before   taking   a   bite   and   scooting   into   her   side,   pulling   her   leg   into   his   lap.   “Not   disappointing   in   the   least.   How   come   you   never   do   anything   like   this   for   me?   Don’t   you   love   me   like   these   girls   do?”   It’s   a   stupid   question   spoken   in   a   joking   manner,   and   it   becomes   more   obvious   the   way   Yorinobu   grins   at   her,   suddenly   pressing   his   face   against   her   neck   and   pressing   his   lips   lightly   against   her   skin.  

‘  ‘    i  ain’t  a  whore?  not  what  you  were  sayin’  just  this  mornin’  nabo    ...  ’  ’    the  grin  that  spreads  over  her  face  while  she  welcomes  him  into  the  warmth  and  comfort  of  her  body  is  palpably  amused.    her  fingers,    as  is  the  habit  between  them,    find  the  back  of  his  head  to  brush  through  the  soft  dark  locks  and  bring  his  head  closer,    embracing  it  softly  to  play  with  the  hair.    nonetheless,    henry  simply  hums  along  as  her  own  nose  finds  it’s  own  way  to  his  hair,    the  scent  of  cologne  and  shampoo  and  yorinobu  thick  everywhere,    even  thicker  than  it  was  on  the  neckband  of  the  dress  shirt  she’d  so  brazenly  and  cruelly  stollen                  not  out  of  any  particular  desire  to  hide  her  immodesty,    but  just  to  have  a  reminder  of  his  presence,    an  indirect  embrace  while  she  waited  for  his  return:    for  once,    henry  had  chosen  to  sleep  in  and  enjoy  leaving  her  mark  on  the  space  that  yorinobu  called  home  rather  than  return  to  her  garage.  

the  minimalist  space  now  bearing  various  pieces  of  random  clutter  that  could  belong  to  no  one  else  but  samurai’s  former  bass  player.    worst  even  to  the  dreams  of  so  many  corporates,    the  tell-tale  signs  that  someone else  resided in the penthouse,    the  touch  of  a  woman  who  was  perfectly  comfortable  in the space,  a permanent  someone  in  yorinobu’s  life.

she  presses  a  kiss  to  his  hairline,    ‘  ‘  you’re  right,  i  don’t  love  you  like  these  girls  do.  ’  ’    and  her  hands  begin  caressing  down  his  body  to  find  the  stiffness  on  his  shoulders,  which  she  kneads  through  the  layers  in  hopes  of  easing  the  stiffness  that  always  returned  there  by  the  end  of  the  day.    

somehow,    she  manages  to  reach  for  the  little  box  of  chocolates,  an  exquisitely  finely  hand-painted  golden  wood  case  that  held  the  chocolates  that  were  so  expensive  that  she  couldn’t  even  begin  to  try  and  calculate.    she  assumed,  rightfully  and  correctly,    that  every  other  treat  picked  for  it  was  a  piece  of  hand-chosen  excess  and  decadence  selected  specifically  to  seduce  yorinobu,    made  from  some  psychological  analysis  and  months  worth  of  creep  data  collected  from  observing  his  tastes.    as  she  brings  the  little  candy  to  her  mouth,     holding  it  between  her  lips  to  guide  yori  into  it  as  well  with  a  finger  curled  gently  underneath  his  jaw  a  a  henry  lets  out  a  snort.    all  this  wastefulness  and  expense,    and  all  for  what  when  the  man  just  wanted  a  slice  of  humble,  loyal  and  honest  apple  pie  à  la  mode  from  texas:    sweet  and  simple  and  warm  on  the  tongue  and  the  heart.    the  kiss  tastes  like  chocolate  and  sea  salt,    but  more  importantly,    it  tastes  like  love,    her  smile  pressed  on  his  lips.

[mchanics]

i’m going to be at @kovachek for the forseable future  !  if u wanna write w me that’s where.

[mchanics]

*    𝐋𝐁  𝐊𝐎𝐕𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐊  IS  THE  BIGGEST  FUCKING  CUNT  YOU’LL  MEET  IN  THE  MUSIC  WORLD.  EVERYONE  WE  ASKED  STATED  THAT  THEY  WOULD  BOTH  LIKE  TO  SHAKE  HER  HAND  AND  STRANGLE  HER.  

[mchanics]

𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐞𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐲𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤.

[mchanics]

i just think all of samurai should’ve been romanceable.  like,  v should be able to fuck their way through johnny’s old band and make the bastard watch.

[mchanics]

henry is probably one of the best cooks in night city,  but she’s a real southern gal.  a meat and potatoes type,  with enough sauce,  spice and butter to kill you then and there.  and she will expect you to clear you goddamn plate,  cause we’re not wasteful in this household.

[mchanics]

j. silverhand,

〚 ❣ 〛 He scoffs at the chair, at her casual pat to it, inviting him to sit like she’s a ‘doc. Damn well could be with the skills she has, one of the best of ‘em, but he can’t imagine she’d do it. Likes to do things on her own terms, not told what to do by whatever license or restrictions come with it, and he can’t blame her, considering his own history. There mere idea of her working for Arasaka is laughable. He likes her this way, even if that look in her eye can terrify a man’s cyberware.

Still, he follows her and sits in the indicated chair, shifting his hips a bit to get comfortable. For being what has to be a joke, it’s actually not a bad chair, might’ve actually gotten it from one of those ‘doc supply chains or some shit. With a stretch, he looks at her, watches her as she preps him for whatever she’s about to do. “Five minutes back, and you already can’t wait to get your hands all over me. Prime this shit up and I’ll give you a big tip.” A wink that’s practically followed by a laugh, though he holds his smirk as if he’s being serious,

surprisingly,    henry  takes  the  comment  in  jest,    rolling  her  eyes  but  not  stopping  her  work.    once  the  process  had  begun,    she  only  stopped  when  it  was  ready.    she  presses  the  syringe  of  something  into  his  arm  and  releases.        ❛❛        you  know  what  they  say  johnny,    a  gal  like  me  can’t  keep  herself  from  wantin’  to  get  her  lil  hands  on  a  man  carryin’  experimental  arasaka  technology  for  insides  like  you.        ❜❜        anaesthetic,    heavy  dosage,  to  numb  the  area.    then,    her  hands  are  gentle  as  she  guides  him  inside  the  side  of  the  chair  where  it’s  set  up  to  do  something,    passing  over  the  skin  of  his  arm  and  weaving  the  needles  over  the  skin  and  into  the  dermis  in  short  injections  that  seem  to  be  doing  something  to  the  muscle  itself.

henry  goes  around  him,    grabbing  the  other  wrist  to  press  with  her  thumb  over  it,    causing  the  personal  link  to  pop  out  without  johnny  having  to  do  a  thing.    she  plugs  it  into  her  on  link,    on  the  left  arm,    and  her  eyes  shine  samurai  red  as  she  extracts  all  of  the  data  from  his  body.        ❛❛        huh    ...    a  lil’  repair  here  and  there,    a  few  alterations  to  the  internal  components    ...    those  soft  neural  bits  are  gonna  have  to  get  replaced,        ❜❜        and  she  scoffs,    as  two  large  arms  like  you’d  see  in  a  car  assembly  line  unfold  from  the  back  of  the  chair  and  set  to  work,    clearly  altered  by  henry  herself.        ❛❛                i’ve  seen  better.    much  better.    this  is  gonna  take  at  least  half  an  hour  to  complete,    but  you  should  feel  entirely  human  by  the  time  the  weaving  is  done.    i’m  gonna  go  ahead  ‘n  work  on  the  software  parts,    but  feel  free  t’  keep  talkin’,    we  all  know  ya  love  the  sound  of  your  voice.        ❜❜        she  waves  the  link  where  they’re  connected  at  him,    before  settling  on  the  office  chair  in  front  of  the  ripperdoc  chair,    rolling  in  it  twice  before  sitting  down  with  one  leg  tucked  under  the  other  and  both  pulled  from  the  ground.

she  could  never  sit  straight,    and  then  she  complained  that  her  joints  hurt.    the  same  old  henry:    curly,    brown  hair  pushed  into  a  loose  ponytail,    a  hoodie  unzipped  and  falling  from  her  shoulder,    a  simple  t-shirt  that  had  suffered  the  years  of  abuse  and  was  permanently  stained  with  black  smudges  underneath    [    if  one  looked  closer,    an  old  samurai  shirt  at  that    ],    her  eyes  glowing  red  as  she  pranced  around  johnny’s  system  like  she  owned  it.        ❛❛        so            how  ya  likin’  bein’  alive  again?    clearly,    you’ve  already  set  out  on  damagin’  your  new  baby  pink  lungs.        ��❜

[mchanics]

i am so invested in this au i may make it a sideblog account. just for it.

[mchanics]

RINA - EP 2017 writing prompts.

“ you know, it’s not all it seems. “

“ underneath it all, we’re all human beings. “

“ i never would’ve guessed that we’d be friends. “

“ you don’t wanna be seen with me. “

“ i wanna see what you see. “

“ but you don’t care what they say, do you? “

“ i’m just like you. “

“ what if it all went away today? “

“ you’re so far removed from who you really are. “

“ well, guess it’s what it takes to live it my way. “

“ don’t underestimate me. “

“ your bullshit ain’t fooling me. “

“ your high praise ain’t feeding me. “

“ you’re waiting for me to fall. “

“ you’re so forgettable. “

“ this is the last time that i give you any more. “

“ you think you’re touching me with your clichés i’ve heard before. “

“ i wanna be myself and i don’t wanna sacrifice my love. “

“ they think that i’m crazy. “

“ what’s another life out of seven billion? “

“ i don’t even realize who i’ve become. “

“ they don’t understand, don’t know who i am. “

“ the less you feel, the more you know. “

“ it’s my last resort. i’ve done it all. “

“ you tell me what’s wrong with you, but i don’t really care. “

“ there’s certainly something we’ve messed up, but it’s too late to share. “

“ emotions are too much for me. “

“ i know what you did last night. “

“ i’m not ill, i’m just driven. “

“ i guess there’s just no end to this mess that i created. “

“ how many lies must i become to get to a place off the track? “

“ she was the girl that i used to be. “

“ keep on the road and don’t lose sight. “

“ i’m not what you see. “

“ all this time i’ve been trying, looking in the wrong place at the wrong time. “

“ i guess i wasn’t brave enough. “

“ i loved you ‘cause of who you are, but that doesn’t mean that i love who you are to me. “

“ i’ll keep being the girl you see. “

“ i’m not here for love tonight. “

“ the way you touch just doesn’t feel right. “

“ i’m used to feeling things so cold. “

“ better late than never, so i’ll be alright. “

[mchanics]

overworked corporate scientist waifu that you help run away.