#Compressor sound blanket

[noiseproblems]

What are acoustic panels and why we utilize them?

Acoustic panels can be made from a wide range of materials like a blend of fabric and foam, wood wool, or biophillic aspects such as moss or cork. The acoustic panel design can be made into a range of sizes and shapes and personalized to complement the design of your space.

The main purpose of acoustic door seal and panels is to remove remaining sound in any space. The efficiency of good quality acoustic panels implies that you can use much less so that you are not at the stake of clumsy spaces and areas.

We can all benefit from serene ambience on worksites. Air compressors are an instance of just one of the hundreds of pieces of equipment that make legally dangerous noise levels.

Regardless of your application, a serene air compressor makes life simpler for everybody. By lessening air compressor noise with the help of a compressor sound blanket, you can:

• Better verbal communication between the workers and prevent avoidable workplace injuries.

• Prevent hearing damage and noise-induced hearing loss

• Avoid noise complaints from nearby businesses and residents

On the other hand, vibratory bowl feeders serve various industrial sectors. Generally, they are found in industries that need flexible feeding systems for the volume production of pieces or components. These include usage in the pharmaceutical industry or for processing electrical spares, consumer electronic components, plastic components and parts, fashion, food, cosmetics, automotive etc.

You can also use a vibratory bowl feeder in pill bottling systems. Big patches of capsules or pills can be deployed into the vibratory bowl feeder for bottling and counting. A big patch of pills is dumped on the top of the vibratory feeder. The vibration in the vibratory feeder makes sure that the pills keep moving forward toward the exit into the bottle systematically without getting congested.

[decordivadelights]

Sound Blanket Curtain Quilted Absorber Quilted Acoustic Barrier Quilted Acoustic Barrier

SoundBlanketCurtain is a manufacturer who focuses on insulated curtains and other acoustic materials production more than 10 years now with low MOQ, an experienced R&D team, complete production lines, and unequalled responsiveness. SoundBlanketCurtain is now the top-volume Chinese source of acoustic panels and its accessories. We try to provide the client with the best solution with the highest QUALITY design, production, and service.

In the past few years, our products have been sold to home builders, diverse property companies, real estate firms, and other customers and have been well received. ConstructionServiceR is a multi-faceted construction company that provides concrete foundations, custom construction, alterations and general contracting services in western Maine. CCZX is a branding and design agency that works with ambitious organizations with a long history to help them connect with changing audiences. RenovationSMProject is an Architect Studio located in Dublin, which specializes in home renovation, expansion, and is interested in energy renovation projects. ILDPP offers real estate services to buyers and sellers of houses, condominiums, foreclosed houses and properties in Naples and Southwest Florida. FKQQ specializes in providing inspection, testing, demolition and construction services for residential and commercial properties in and around Binghamton, New York.

We have established good business relationships with businessmen in Ukraine, France, Indonesia, India, Vanuatu, Costa Rica, Ireland, Libya, South Korea, United Kingdom, Cameroon, Guadeloupe, Jamaica, and other countries and regions.

I want more product info and price. This is a trade enquiry india. We are looking for curtains that block street noise, vehicular noise etc disturbing the people in homes. The compressor blanket should be flexible so that it can be rolled or drawn to one side to allow light and air when required.

It will be highly appreciated if you confirm the receipt of our email and inform us about your time frame of providing us with the needed data knowing that we have a compressed time for that. Notes: 1- Where there is no quantity in the attached specs. and photos file, kindly consider the quantity 100m2, approx. 2- Kindly provide us with photos or catalogue of your products which matches the project materials.

Decorative Soundproof Blanket Canvas Barriers PVC Acoustic Barrier Sound Enclosure

We warmly welcome friends from all over the world to contact us and visit us.

Website: https://www.soundblanketcurtain.com/product/soundproof-blanket/

[upthewitchypunx]

We are trying not to turn on the heat until we get our furnace tuned up on the 2nd. There's nothing wrong with it, that we know of. We just want it tuned up first. It's over 20 years old now. the last tech said it was totally alright and that since we run it at a low temp, it should run for a long time.

Have I just been making lots of food in the kitchen to keep warm? Maybe? Now I have a lot of leftovers: soup made from potatoes and leeks from the garden, roasted delicata squash, pasta with sauce made with tomatoes from the garden, roasted sweet potato, and a giant vat of chili with tomatoes, beans, and chili peppers from the garden.

@lemonbalmgirl if you stop buy I'm sending you home with food.

We may have our first fire tonight to heat stuff up a bit...or we might cave. It's supposed to get down to 45 F (7C) tonight but I've been sleeping fine since I found my electric blanket.

We just got the first of our book restocks and there will be more added to to the website soon. I might run a sale this weekend, not sure. I already discounted some books and zines that have been around for awhile.

Oh, the reason we might run a sale is that our fridge went from sounding a "whooshing" Cylon sound to a thing that comes to a chugging clunking stop, it's probably the compressor going out. It's over 30 years old so it makes sense. It's just yet another boring adult thing. I had money set aside to get tattooed, but now I gotta save it for a new fridge. boo.

[noiseproblemsonline]

Different Kinds of Noise Control Issues and how to Resolve Them

If you have stumbled upon this post, it is likely that you are looking for peace and serenity. Perhaps manufacturing noise is negatively affecting productiveness on your adjoining offices, shop floor or both. Or maybe, an old HVAC system is causing attention to divert or tempers to boil. With years of noise proficiency, we can provide the technical support and knowledge you need for Eckel noise control. Here we will address the main noise control issues and how to resolve them.

Echo

Echo is among the top noise control problems found in the interior building spaces. Defined as sound resonance or prolongation, echo and specifically excessive echo makes it hard to hear others around you. Frequently, this noise control issue stems from having many reflective surfaces and makes you think about installing outdoor acoustic panels.

Transmission of sound

Transmission of sound is defined as the sound passage from one point to another. Airborne sound can be a worry from room to room or from indoor to outdoor spaces. There are many instances where palliation of airborne sound is important, including locations where noise ordinances are specifically rigorous and hence you may need a compressor blanket.

Gym acoustics

Gym acoustics truly stem from echo problems which were discussed above. Lofty and high ceilings present the most substantial echo problems as sound waves have long distance to travel, but repeated sounds can also wreak havoc. Think about repetition of a basketball being dribbled or a racquetball striking a wall during a match. All these gymnasium sounds can make it hard to hear anything distinguishable in these environments unless some acoustical treatment with STC 50 is put into position. No worries, as we have the solutions to cheer for.

[polykhatunlove]

Customizable Tarpaulin Sound Soundproofing Materials Outdoor Noiseproof Noise Barrier

NoiseBarrierTarp provides a variety of temporary noise screens worldwide. Many acoustic contractors and decorators often buy from us at affordable prices. From the date of foundation, we stick to high-start-point, high standard to participate in the competitive market. We provide the best sound insulation board, equipped with matching machinery, equipment and high-end design.

With highly appreciates and support of customers of real estate developer and builders, commercial contracting companies, design-build companies, we have gained a large sales network. XNTYLK offers foundation, concrete and crawl space restoration solutions for homeowners in Los Angeles, Long Beach, San Diego and nearby areas. InteriorIDecorator is the best South African interior decorator and one of the best interior design companies in Johannesburg. WFGD is aware of the environment, so our goal is to increase the amount of materials recovered from our site. GFLXS specializes in pillar construction and structure, including pole sheds, farmhouses, sheds, garages and more! YDMV is providing high-quality indoor contracting services for residential projects, including additions, renovations, repairs, roofs, HVAC, etc.

So far, our products sell well in domestic and overseas markets, such as Ta'izz Yemen, Bukit Merah Singapore, Atherton United Kingdom, Cheongju South Korea, Mahe, Ciudad López Mateos Mexico, George South Africa, Ottawa Canada, Medina Saudi Arabia, Labasa Fiji, Morena India, Yakutat United States, and so on.

This is Samer Faris from Technical Metal Industrial Co. , Kindly will you please send to us your quotation for the following item :Kindly will you please send to us your quotation Acoustic Insulation using sound barrier material over 25mm thick elastomeric closed cell foam tape sound material Qty = 50, 000 Sqm. I looked extensively into Alibaba and was pleased with your products. I am looking to expand into selling quality items however, initially on a very large scale to begin with, therefore I will need a minimum order of 10, 000 to a maximum of 20. 000 pieces per item. If this is something that We can work on, please let me know and contact me directly.

Acoustic Absorption Material Noise Barrier Eco Friendly Acoustic Blanket Collapsible Barrier

These products are mainly used in the construction of exhaust pipe noise, compressor enclosures, commercial mechanical equipment, nighclub door, construction works, impact pile driver noise, event center, chopper noise control, acoustic curtains partition, and so on.

Tags: vinyl noise barrier, how to drown out road noise, noise barrier insulation, portable generator noise reduction enclosure, noise barrierWebsite: https://www.noisebarriertarp.com/product/noise-reducing-fence/

[cloudstrife-bbs]

Pupdates, or Unofficial Lack Thereof

Cloud is now 4½-weeks-old.

I still don't know which one has been assigned to me. The puppies are all still too young but, according to the breeder, beginning to show temperament. She says she's still a few weeks out from testing them, which to me, translates to 7-weeks-old before proper testing can be performed and assignments can be made. Plus, her constant repetition of "end of April"--- they'll be 8-weeks on April 16th, which is mid-April. Which also implies that she's keeping them until 9-weeks, which means he won't come home until April 20th or 21st.

Which, truthfully, feels like absolute torture for me.

I trust in my breeder to accurately place my puppy, and that's having a tremendous deal of faith in her. This is a decision for the life of whichever one Cloud ends up being, but she has to do this eleven times. Because the litter is so large, I have to share time and attention with at least ten other families. It would be nice to have a more personal relationship, but I sadly feel like this is gonna be another Sevit's Corgi situation: Money changes Hands, and the relationship is over, for the most part. Business only. Especially because Cloud is only a pet and not a show dog or a sport dog. I don't want to feel robbed of a potential friend and a potential network, especially because the breeder and I are both New Englanders, but I do feel robbed.

The breeder told me that she was going to have an Open House-type of Puppy Party on March 30th, for all the new puppy parents. (I don't know if I mentioned this in my last blog entry.) We are planning to bring up Cloud's very expensive, brand new Impact brand crate with puppy divider. (I hope it lasts as long as it says it does because I want it to be a dog heirloom for future Berger Blanc Suisses for the moolah we coughed up for it.) She also said to bring a towel/blanket that smells like us, and a toy, just for him. We bought him a squeaky plush Mr. Carrot, just like Bolt. We actually got multiples in case the toy doesn't come back with us. We've been sleeping with the towel to make sure it REALLY has our scent on it, but I also have another old bed sheet that I'm bringing to make his crate a bit cozier. I still don't know what time we're going to have to be there by (I asked once already, but received silence), but I'm going to shoot her a text on Monday asking again, trying to be as non-intrusive and friendly as I can in spite of my rampant anxiety. It's a 3.5 hour drive from here to there, and I would very much like to know how early in the morning we have to start out, especially if we want to avoid traffic on I84 through Hartford. I like to plan my life out accordingly and not wait until the last second.

The house is getting cleaner and cleaner and more puppy-proofed. Everyone is excited, waiting for more news about Cloud, but I only have very little to share. It's frustrating, and to be honest, it's contributing a lot to my stress and anxiety. I have all this love in my heart I am just waiting to pour into a puppy, and I feel fit to burst without anything to direct it into. I know that a new dog will be a challenge, but it's a good, healthy challenge that I'm deeply passionate about. I don't have any delusions that this is going to be a cakewalk. It's going to be sleepless nights at first, and lots of puppy biting and him not wanting to listen. Hundreds of repetitions of words as I teach him human language and proper manners. Definitely a lot of pee and poop on my kitchen floor as his body grows.

A lot of "Let me see what you have!" "A knife!" "No!" Hahaha!

But lots of playing, and new experiences every day as I socialize him to things like construction noises, grooming, and our every day life. He has to get used to loud sounds like nail guns, air compressors, miter saws, hammering, all manner of power tools, and I've already educated myself on how gundogs are trained to get an idea of how to desensitize him. He's going to go to puppy class for extra exposure to things, and I want him to learn to be calm and cool, nigh unflappable if I can shape him to be that way. But it's going to take tremendous hard work, discipline, consistency, and at least two years of puppy/teenage bullshit to get him where I want him to be. I'm no stranger to the process; it's just been a decade since I had a puppy. Dogs are to be my life's work, and I may be pushing 40 (I'm turning 38 this September), but this is only the beginning of my purpose. If the Spirits help me through their wisdom and kindness, my legacy will be my Dogs. They are my children.

Cloud: which ever puppy you end up being, I know you'll be brilliant and extraordinary. You are already my hero. You have no idea the darkness you're saving me from. You're going to have an incredible life with us, and you are worth this excruciating wait. I love you, so much. Mommy and Daddy are waiting as patiently as we can until we bring you home.

[noisebarriertarp]

Universal Outdoor Acoustical Blankets Acoustic Blanket Collapsible Barrier Noise Barrier Curtains

NoiseBarrierTarp is one of the leading professional manufacturers engaged in the research, development, production, sale and service of acoustic materials in Guangdong Province. Our factory covers 5, 000 square meters with several advanced production lines. Our company has won China Certificate for Enabling Products & China Environmental Labeling Product Certificate.

Recent Inquiries

(1). We need noise barrier wall for installation at sides of a highway, If you are a manufacturing factory for this item, pls give me technical and commercial information on different types you may manufacture?

(2). I'd like to receive a quote for the supply of 60mq of soundproof removable panel model 100 with the following features: nr 2 - 10 meters long, 3 meters high and 1 meter wide. I ask you to receive the quote Incoterm DAP to our storehouse located in Cantu', zip code 220630, (Italy). I'd also like to know in the material has the CE certifications for fire and other certifications.

Insulation Australia Acoustic Noise Barrier Insulation Material Noise Reduction Barrier

Our products are selling well in Brisbane Australia, Hamilton Canada, Birkenhead United Kingdom, Jessore Bangladesh, Fos, Monclova Mexico, Tacloban Philippines, Pohang South Korea, Porto Portugal, Bandar Anzali Iran, Tumkur India, Paita Peru, and other countries and regions in the world.

With a professional team, our products have successfully sold to customers of home theater installer, design consulting studio, general contracting company, fit out construction firm, etc. InteriorNDecoration provides customized curtains and curtains, blinds, home accessories, event decoration and interior design services. RenovationAJ offers renovations, alterations, kitchens, bathrooms, structural repairs, house additions, roofs and custom cabinets. QNZNUF is a leading interior design company specializing in interior design, decoration and contract work. YQWTB is a full-service external company that provides roofing and siding services for homes and businesses in the Edmonton area. JKRIQ provides a variety of products, including: ready-mixed concrete and related contractor's equipment and supplies; household and commercial glass, etc.

It can be used for noise enclosures, industrial equipments, gearbox casings noise reduction, traffic noise reduction fences, thermal generating station, compressor housing, road saw noise reduction, extended construction site working hours, general plant noise, liquid cooler noise control, and so on.

Tag: sound barriers for generators, fence screen, soundproofing a generator, reflective materials, best sound barrier fence

Website: https://www.noisebarriertarp.com/product/temporary-noise-barrier-fencing/

[partsaps]

Carrier Heat Pump Reviews

Carrier electric air-source heat pumps are versatile heating and cooling products that use an air handler to move heat from one area to another. In reality, William Carrier invented what he termed "synthetic weather" in 1902. Check out our guide carrier heat pump reviews. We can assist you in ranking all of the service models in each series, whether you are looking for comfort features, humidity management, sound performance, or energy savings.

Carrier Heat Pump Reviews

What is a heat pump? Carrier heat pumps are air conditioners that can also heat your home; the superior carrier infinity collection heat pump provides the best performance, while the overall performance series and luxury collection heat pumps provide low-cost comfort; the higher the SEER and HSPF ratings, the more efficient the unit. One of the oldest of the heating and air conditioning organizations In 1915, he established the company that bears his name in New York.

All of Carrier’s heat pumps come with a 10-year component assurance, and many of them have a non-obligatory five-year labour guarantee that you may purchase as well. Most traditional furnaces heat a room by adding heat; they either burn fuel, such as natural gas or wood, or use an electric heating detail. carrier Heat pumps that can be used as heating devices take heat from a low-temperature source and expel it somewhere else in the building, raising the temperature.

Given the high cost of all heating and cooling equipment, make certain that any carrier heat pumps you purchase are installed by qualified individuals.Some of the carrier heat pumps have two-stage compressors, allowing for efficient operation. Here are the types and benefits of carrier heat pumps.

Carrier Infinity Heat Pumps

Shop Carrier Infinity Heat Pump Parts @ PartsAPS.

Heat Pump Infinity 19

Because of its variable velocity compressor, the infinity 19 heat pump is the best at cooling, while the infinity 18vs heat pump is the best at heating you up in the iciness. The Infinity system includes a wireless thermostat remote, allowing you to control the system from anywhere in the house. Infinity heat pumps have a protective blanket and the Silencer Gadget II, making them some of the quietest that carriers make, beginning at a mere 52 decibels and reaching as much as 67 decibels.

Heat Pump Infinity 24

The higher, the better! Additionally, it has premium comfort functions. Temperature control is specific for maximum comfort. That is the first-rate, most superior version to be had. It has a seasonal strength efficiency ratio (SSER) of as much as 24, which makes it very energy efficient. The humidity controller is superb, removing up to 400% more moisture than any other trendy HVAC device. It also has a heating seasonal overall performance factor (HSOP) of up to 13 for excellent energy savings.

Carrier Comfort Heat Pumps

Low Pricing Carrier HVAC Parts - Order Online!

Heat Pump Comfort 14

Each furnace is up to 14 SEER and 8.2 HSPF and is a four-ton unit. In addition, they both have trendy comfort and humidity management. To improve humidity control, carriers recommend installing an air conditioning unit with a level compressor. But the well-known Comfort 14 version has a quieter operation than the Coast model. They each have an identical 10-year component guarantee. The comfort line is the access level of the carrier's heat pumps. They provide consistent heating and cooling performance without the high cost of top-of-the-line models. The Comfort 13 heat pump steps down performance slightly, and it comes with a coastal model as well.

Heat Pump Comfort 15

The Carrier Comfort No. 15 is efficient, lower priced, and reliable to run. It is the most pleasant of the series, cooling your property in the summer and heating it in the winter. The Comfort 15 is the most expensive model in the Comfort line, followed by the Comfort 14 heat pump and the Comfort 14 coastal, which is identical to the Comfort 14 but has a longer lifespan.Because of this, it is slightly louder than the non-protective-lined model. It's by far the most effective comfort model that is Energy Star certified. The seer has been increased to fifteen, and the hspf has been increased to 8.5. If you pair it with the right indoor furnace or air handler, you'll increase its efficiency and make it even more powerful.

Final Words

This is all about carrier heat pump reviews. We hope you get the useful information you couldn't find elsewhere. Choose one from our list. You can find the best heat pump parts at Parts APS.

Related Content:

1. How To Replace Carrier AC Capacitor? 2. Carrier Heat Pump Troubleshooting

3. Carrier Infinity Air Purifier Installation  4. Carrier Furnace Troubleshooting

[stagetonki]

Mass loaded vinyl outdoor

The built-in hooks, loops, and closures that come with it ensures that it will be easy for you to attach this to any air conditioner unit. It can actually fit many different models, series, and size of air conditioners. The Brinmar SBUHD Universal Fit Air Compressor Sound Blanket Wrap is a favorite sound deadening AC blanket by many new homeowners. This brings down the noise levels drastically, making it so much easier for your and your neighbors to live in peace. This has the capability of reducing as much as forty percent of your air compressor’s noise. You can add a tiny bit more of money by investing in sound absorbing blankets that have been specifically designed for your air conditioner. You can just easily wrap this around your compressor to buffer all that racket. These soundproof blankets are really handy when it comes to all soundproofing projects. To illustrate, you can use an acoustic blanket from Amazon to make your life so much easier. Placing an additional layer of soundproofing defense is actually easy to do when it comes to your air conditioner. The same rule applies for your AC system. On top of that, there are steps indicated below that offer you solutions, so you can keep your peace as soon as humanly possibleĪs a rule of thumb, when you are working on soundproofing anything, what you need to do is to add several layers between your project and the rest of the world. Read below to see what materials you need to keep your space more quiet. All of these offer the solution to your noisy outside air conditioner problems. There are many soundproofing materials on Amazon that you can have delivered straight to your doorstep. However, doing the soundproofing yourself is actually cheap, easy to do, and are known to be effective. Only opt to buy a new one if your soundproofing efforts fail. If your AC is just noisy but still happens to work really well in keeping your environment cool, then you can think of soundproofing. All that expense just because of the noise? The variable speed blowers of these newer units, along with the high-tech inverter power system, means that you can expect to fork out a lot of money. However, looking for a new AC will blow your budget because these do not come cheap. The improvements in the fan design and vent lay out are perfect for cooling you down and keeping things generally peaceful. SoundAway Barrier MLV 1 with PSA: 1/8' x 4.5 x 30 SoundAway Barrier MLV PSA, wide roll, 1/8' x 4. These air conditioners that come with improved insulation around the compressor are more silent. If you have the budget, then you can opt to buy and invest in a newer, quieter AC (air conditioner) model that comes with better insulation. However, these air conditioning systems are a necessary companion during the hot summer months, so they may make a lot of noise, but it would be hard to be comfortable without them. If you’re a victim of this coming from your neighbor’s air con unit, then you must know how unwelcome the sounds are. Unfortunately, the older air condition models do tend to make a lot of annoying noises.

[mainsportable]

Mass loaded vinyl outdoor

Mass loaded vinyl outdoor professional#

Please be rest assured of that.Ī: Payment=1000USD, 30% T/T in advance ,balance before shippment.Ī: Yes,as the manufacturer,we can open mould to produce any acoustic panel products according to your sample or drawing. After the order is confirmed, we would pay back the express fee. Q: How long will you take to make samples?Ī.Usually we will take 1~7 days to make the samples.Ī.The time of delivery is within 15-25 days after we receive the deposit.Honestly, it depends on the order quantity and the season you place the order.Ī.Standard samples are free, but customized samples will be charged with reasonable cost and the freight are charged. Next: Acoustic lagging, pipe lagging, pipe wrap insulation.Previous: Mass loaded vinyl for soundproofing.Team–We have our own engineering department, according to your request for your tailor-made for your product. Service–Easy and convenient to transport,we promise timely delivery date, and good after-sale service.Ĥ. Price–Because we are factory, so we can provide higher quality and lower price products.ģ. /rebates/2fc2fkp2fmass-loaded-vinyl&. Green Glue Noiseproofing Compound - 6 Tubes,net wt 28 fl.oz(828 ml). Any questions will be replied within 24 hours.Ģ. Soundsulate 1 lb Mass Loaded Vinyl MLV, Soundproofing Barrier 4 x 25 (100 sf) click for ADDITIONAL OPTIONS.

Mass loaded vinyl outdoor professional#

Profession–We have professional sales staff. (4) Industrial place application: air conditioning facilities, air compressor room, pumping station, manufacture workshop.ġ. Mass Loaded Vinyl is produced with one focus: Quality Soundproofing With SoundproofingMLV's Mass Loaded Vinyl, premium sound transmission loss can be expected. (3) Workplace application: office building, meeting room, office room, studio, recording room SoundproofingMLV's Mass Loaded Vinyl is made from the highest quality materials, allowing it superior noise reduction capabilities. (2) Entertainment application: KTV, hotel, bar, night club, disco, cinema (1) Home application: wall soundproofing, ceiling sound insulation, pipe soundproofing Mass Loaded Vinyl is an ideal sound blocking product because of its exorbitant weight and thin profile (1lb/sf, 1/8' thick). Mass loaded vinyl sound barrier,mass loaded vinyl curtain application: Mass Loaded Vinyl Soundproofing Barrier is installed as a way to add both limp mass and an air-tight barrier to a wall, floor, or ceiling. The sound insulation blankets can reduce the transmission energy of the incidence sound source and make the room keep quiet. With an ultra thin profile of 2mm (approximately) and high acoustic performance of Rw 26, 4kg/m2 Mass Loaded Vinyl is an excellent product to soundproof walls, timber floors and ceiling spaces in. Mass loaded vinyl sound barrier,mass loaded vinyl curtain theory: 4kg/m2 Mass Loaded Vinyl, or NuWave Base 4kg/m2, or just MLV, is a high performance, flexible soundproofing barrier from Thermotec Australia. Mass loaded vinyl sound barrier,mass loaded vinyl curtain advantages:ġ) High rate of sound-absorption and insulation Mass loaded vinyl sound barrier,mass loaded vinyl curtain images: Industrial Building, Indoor, Car,KTV,Disco,etc Mass loaded vinyl sound barrier,mass loaded vinyl curtainġ000*10000*3mm (other thickness can be customized)

[awindylife-writes]

His Death

Relationship: 10th Doctor x reader

Summary: you get kidnapped and the Doctor gets shot. You both think the other is dead, but things work out very well. (Not an established relationship)

Warnings: mentions of your and his death but not graphic

Genre: hurt and comfort

You struggled. You bit and scratched and kicked and screamed, anything to get those mercyless hands off of you. The Doctor was running towards you, screaming your name in desparation with his coat billowing around him.

When you looked at him, everything in you froze. There was someone behind the Doctor, and they were holding what was unmistakeably a gun. Alien, big and shining silver, but a gun nonetheless. You opened your mouth to scream, to warn him, but there was a flash of light and the time was up.

The Doctor fell. This wouldn't mean anything if he got up, but he didn't. You could see he wasn't breathing, even though they were dragging you away from him. He laid limp where he'd fallen, and then you caught a sight of his eyes.

His eyes were open, and they were empty. The sound that tore out of you wasn't human.

~

You didn't know how long you had screamed. You didn't know when you had stopped. There had been slaps after that, and hits, but you didn't feel the pain. You didn't feel anything.

They hooked you up to the machine and some part of you knew it hurt, knew it wasn't right. But that part was far away, drowned in the great white nothingness that had consumed everything when he fell.

There was no point to anything now.

~

Maybe you would have woken up on your own eventually, or maybe you wouldn't have. The point is you didn't have to find out.

~

There was shouting, and sparks and terror, but you didn't hear any of it.

Then there was a face, a beloved face swimming in your vision, and the world came back into focus.

"Y/N!!! Y/N!!! Answer me!!!" The Doctor's terrified brown eyes were staring into yours. His hand was on your cheek. Warm.

"You're alive," you breathed, and the dam burst.

"You're-alive-you're-alive-you're-alive-you're-alive-you're-alive-" You surged around his neck and his arms immediately clutched you back.

"I'm here. I'm here. I've got you," his pained voice joined your chanting. "I've got you..."

When you ran out of breath, you noticed you were shaking, and crying and holding onto him for dear life. Then you noticed he was too.

"I thought I'd lost you," he confessed into your shoulder in that moment of silence. He sounded so broken and you hated it. He was still shaking in your arms. You both had tears on your shoulders and you were holding each other with the same desparation coursing through your veins.

After who knows how long, you finally smelled smoke in the air. You didn't want to let go, but it was time.

"Let's get out of here," you murmured to the Doctor. He begrudgingly let you go, immediately taking hold of your hand. That was when you looked around the room for the first time, and-

"What happened?"  you gasped in disbelief.

The corner you were standing in was like an island in a sea of wreckage.

The computer wall was on fire but one part was still managing to throw sparks. The large table in the middle had been broken in three parts and its legs were nowhere to be found. There was so much burnt paper, shards of glass and parts of machinery littering the floor you wondered how you would get to either of the doors. The medical-technical thing you had been tied into was turned on its side with its innards spilling out. You finally noticed the shouts down one of the halls.

You turned to the Doctor, eyebrows raised in question, but before you asked, he simply repeated, "I thought I'd lost you." His voice was quiet but tight with pain. When he finally met your eyes, you saw the terror hadn't left his, but you were glad to find relief in there too. You squeezed his hand.

He continued in harder tone, "And the people who helped me had lost a lot too."

You nodded, "Alright." You wouldn't ask about the violence it took him to get there, and most of you didn't care. They had hurt him. They had tried to kill him. His empty gaze flashed before your eyes and your whole body flinched at the memory.

"Y/N?!!" There was terror in his voice as he franctically looked you over for injuries again.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," you reassured him while your hands found his shoulders. You made sure to catch his gaze as you asserted, "I'm okay."

When tension left his frame, your palms settled on his chest, right above his hearts. Your eyes followed them. You took in a shaky breath. "I just remembered how you looked-" Damn it you were NOT going to cry again.

"I'm here. I'm alright." He gently tilted your chin with one hand while the other pulled you closer by your waist. Now it was his gaze searching yours. "I'm alright."

There was so much care in his deep brown eyes as he offered you a small smile, your heart ached at the sight. You just breathed deeply and nodded, then slipped your hand back into his. "Which way?"

You just had to suck it up until you were both back in the TARDIS. There would be enough time to have breakdowns later.

He got the message, and off you went.

~

The TARDIS hummed when he unlocked the door and let you in first. You held hands until it was time for the Doctor to start the dematerialization process.

As soon as you were in the Vortex, he turned to you with fear still in his eyes. With open arms, he softly asked, "Can I?"

You wrapped yourself around him and he clung to you just as desperately. You thought neither of you planned on letting go, you would just stand there and breathe until the stars blinked out of existence. That sounded like a good idea.

~

(If either of you noticed you kept touching more than ever, you sure as hell didn't bring it up. Considering you both had thought the other was dead, it wasn't that surprising. You were too shaken to stay apart, needing the comfort of each other's presence more than ever.)

(And friends did this, right? Friends who had just seen their friend die? It wasn't like it meant anything more?)

(You knew you two had entered into an emotionally uncharted territory a long time ago. That was at the same time both beyond dangerous and calming - there could be so many missteps and each one could hurt or break you, but this thing here that you'd built with him felt so good, so unimaginably good you wouldn't have parted with it for anything.)

Eventually you did break apart. You felt like you could have fallen sleep standing up, but the thought of wearing the smelly clothes on your back any longer disagreed with you. The Doctor let you go, but did not look happy about it. You took hold of his hand, not wanting to lose the comfort either.

"Fifteen minutes," you began. He raised his eyebrewos in confusion and you went on. "Fifteen minutes to shower and change, then we meet in my room to have a sleepover. Sound good?"

He looked relieved. "Yes. Very," he nodded gratefully and you smiled.

"Good. Let's go."

~

(You didn't want to ask how he'd survived; you hadn't even thought to. You didn't need or want to know, you just clung to the fact that he had.)

You almost fell asleep in the shower, but the thought of the Doctor, alone, was enough to make you move. Finally comfortable in your pajamas you stepped out of your bathroom.

He was sitting on your bed, looking a bit lost. The scene was so domestic it struck you as odd, and it came with that little sting of knowing he didn't love you like you loved him. But that was the least of today's pains and you let it go. He's alive.

He turned around at the sound of the door opening and found your eyes. Now the softness in the sight of him wrapped around you like a blanket and you never wanted it to end. You smiled and walked to the bed.

"Come on," you said to the Doctor as you pulled the covers back. The lights turned off and you welcomed the darkness.

You were reaching for each other before you even laid down. He ended up with his head on your chest, his arms hugging your middle. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair with the other hand around his shoulders. You were grateful for the Doctor's warmth, the weight of him, the feel of his breath on your skin. You clung to these reminders.

You thought he was listening to your heartbeat in the same way.

"You weren't there when I came to," he said into the dark, his voice distant and quiet, as if he would awaken a monster if he spoke any louder. "The last thing I remembered was you screaming as they dragged you away. You screaming for me." It turned harsh as he tried to keep emotion at bay.

"And I wasn't there. I didn't do anything and you were gone." His raw pain and self-loathing came like blood out of a wound and you pulled him even closer. You tried to reassure him but he continued before you could speak. "I knew what they wanted from you. And I knew I was out of time." Despair was loud and final now, that had been the end of him. You felt hot tears seep into your shirt.

"I was out of time, but l was alive. I couldn't even die properly." Amused bitterness seeped into his voice and your hand fisted the cloth on his shoulder.

"No," you shook your head into his hair. "Please no. Never that," you told him, willing him to understand.

The Doctor took a shuddering breath and went on, almost a whisper. "That's how the others found me. But they needed help, they were desparate and a part of me could go on on that. So I did. Just went where they wanted me to and opened doors."

"And there you were," you felt the Doctor smile into your shirt as disbelieving joy filled his voice. "There you were, hooked up to the energy compressor but breathing." He seemed to have trouble doing that now.

"You're alive," and oh, the light in his voice could outshine stars.

"Yes," you answered with a smile. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. I've got you," your words echoed his.

He sighed. Tension slowly leeked out of his body as the fact that danger had passed sank in. The Doctor relaxed against you, every inch of you touching. He nuzzled his cheek into your shirt and the silence that followed was welcome.

You didn't know how much time had passed when he spoke again. "You're prescious," he said softly and you forgot how to breathe. "You are so, so prescious to me and I don't-" his words ran out. The Doctor was an eloquent speaker, so you were astonished that an emotion for you had made him speechless.

"I can't lose you." His admission was raw, as if imprinted on the fabric of the universe, a fact. The dark echoed with it.

"You won't," you said and your voice was final. "You wont." You had made a decision and the universe would bloody listen. You would make it listen.

You held him to you tighter, as if you could keep the two of you together just by doing that. "Doctor, since I've started travelling with you, l've seen lives, worlds, destinies turn and change on one person's words, on one being's choice," you whispered to him. "And this is it. You keep me and l keep you and that is final."

You could feel him smile into your shirt, and you were glad your words had managed to calm him.

"Yeah?" he breathed and you grinned in turn.

"Yeah."

He giggled, actually giggled, nuzzling his cheek  your shirt. The sound made your heart dance.

He sighed in content and together, you slowly drifted off to sleep.

[yelena-bellova]

ahhh I love your work!! Can you please do 6 and 14 with female reader and Poe? :) I’m a big fat sucker for a juicy friends to lovers.

A Night on Courscant

Plot: Poe and Y/n are stranded on Coruscant searching for a hotel room. But when do things ever go according to plan?

Warnings: extreme steam 🔥

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Why does every Poe imagine I write turn so thirsty? 😂 I’m not upset about it. I also managed to get every trope possible in this one including the famed ‘there was one bed.’

(And thank you so much, anon, for the kind words!)

————-

6: “You keep saying that we’re friends but you look at me for a moment too long for that to be true.”

14: “Don’t pretend that you don’t feel the same way.”

————

It was supposed to be a one day diplomatic mission to Coruscant. We were supposed to be back at base by nightfall until our ship’s compressor had decided against that decision. I’d contacted Leia to let her know the situation and she said she’d send a ship first thing in the morning. Until then, Poe and I were walking through the heart of the metropolitan planet in search of a hotel for the night.

“If I remember right,” Poe pointed towards a cluster of smaller buildings, “One of those has rooms for pretty cheap. Between the two of us, we should be able to swing it.”


“Good,” I replied, “I’m ready to put an end to this day.”

“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” Poe pulled me into his side, “There’s a lot worse people to be stuck with for the night.”

I laughed, trying to ignore the hammering of my heart at being pressed against him. Falling in love during war was dangerous, but falling in love with your best friend during war was just plain unfair.

“Look at it this way,” Poe said, “We had to sit through a criminally boring meeting, lost our ship and are stranded on a planet we hardly know. It can only get better from here.”

Like clockwork, just as Poe had finished his sentence, it began to rain. Upon the first drops hitting, he bit down frustratedly on his lip and nodded.

“You’re right,” I said over the growing noise, “This is better.”

Poe sighed and reached for my hand, “Come on.”

We dashed through the city, weaving between people on the crowded sidewalks, as the light drizzle picked up and turned to a torrential downpour. Luckily, the hotel Poe knew about was close by and it didn’t take long to make our way over. However, with the strength of the storm, we were soaked to the bone by the time we got there.

Poe had compiled both our credits and we stood at the check-in desk, awaiting our room key. In my exhaustion, I hadn’t realized I was staring at my friend. The rain had soaked through the cream colored shirt he was wearing, making the outlines of his chest extremely visible. He’d pushed his wet curls off his face but one of them stubbornly stayed in place against his forehead, perfectly out of place. There was a reason that Poe was the poster boy of the Resistance, someone that beautiful deserved to have their face all over the galaxy.

Once the worker returned with our room key, Poe and I were quick to make our way up to our floor. The sooner we went to sleep, the sooner we’d get to go home. When Poe unlocked the room and switched on the lights, we were met with the surprise that there was only one bed.

“I could’ve sworn I asked the guy for a room with two beds,” Poe said.

“I was there, you did,” I sighed, my thoughts running rampant at our situation.

Poe rubbed at his neck, a nervous habit of his, “I guess we could make it work?”

“Yeah, of course,” I replied quickly, “I mean we’re…we’re friends.”

I must have been tired because I thought I heard Poe hesitate before saying, “Yeah, friends.”

He locked the door and we fully entered the room, I was trying to figure out how to navigate the night without it being too awkward. It was too late and I was too tired for a shower and it wasn’t like I had other clothes to change into. Not to mention I’d caught a chill during the storm and was freezing, all I wanted to do was get into bed.

“Um,” I began, “We’re going to need to, uh, get out of these clothes.”

Poe nodded, “I can turn around and you can get in bed, that way I won’t see anything.”

“O-okay,” I said, Poe promptly turned around and awkwardly cleared his throat. I peeled my long sleeved shirt off, followed by my boots and pants. I was left only in my undergarments, more cold than I’d been with my layers still on. I hurriedly climbed into the bed and pulled the covers over me. 

“You’re safe,” I said, Poe slowly turned around and smiled at the sight of just my head peeking out from the blankets.

Without warning, he shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and reached behind him to pull his shirt over his head. I should’ve turned around instantly, but the shock of seeing his toned chest on display had caused my brain to short-circuit. After a few seconds, I caught myself and nervously turned on my side, mumbling an apology. I felt like a complete idiot. Poe moved under the sheets and I could feel the heat that practically radiated off of him warm the bed,

“Can I ask you something?” he quietly asked, I still hadn’t turned to face him.

“Sure,” I squeaked.

“If you were to describe you and I, what words would you use?”

I squinted in confusion, almost wishing that we would have gone to bed silently. Every word I wished I could use flooded my mind, but none of them had any place in our reality.

“Well,” I started, attempting to sound nonchalant “We’re friends.”

Poe hummed, “You keep saying that we’re friends but you look at me for a moment too long for that to be true.”

My eyes widened in horror before I turned over to face a very smug looking Poe.

“W-what are you talking about?” I asked.


Poe gave me a knowing stare, “Do you honestly think I haven’t noticed how you look at me? I know because,” he took a deep breath, “It’s the same way I look at you.”

I must have looked ridiculous, my jaw slack and my eyes slitted as I tried to comprehend what Poe was admitting to. Was he saying…he felt the same?

“I-I-Poe, I don’t know what-I mean-“ I cut my babbling off with my hand running over my face.

“Y/n, you heard what I said, don’t pretend that you don’t feel the same way,” Poe said with a nervous laugh.

I turned my head to look at him, his deep brown eyes looked so determined and yet so vulnerable at the same time. It was taking a lot for him to admit his feelings to me, even if he seemed confident about it. If he could do it, then I could too…

“Yes, Poe,” I whispered before adjusting the volume of my voice, “I have feelings for you. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t do anything about them.”

“What?” he said, “I thought I just-“

“Yes, you did,” I interrupted, “And I’ve dreamed about hearing you saying something like that for so long but, Poe, we’re in the middle of a war. It’s a terrible idea for to get involved with someone when there’s a chance you’ll lose them the next day.”


Poe’s eyebrows scrunched together sadly as he listened to me, I was fighting back a few tears myself. It broke my heart to say, but it was true. The one thing that had always stopped me from telling Poe how I felt was the paralyzing fear of getting to love him and then having him ripped away from me.

“I disagree,” he objected, scooting his body closer to me, “Yeah, we live more dangerous lives than most people but that doesn’t mean we should have to give up stuff like…this.”

With very little space left between us, Poe gently took my hand and pressed it to his bare chest, just over his heart. I could feel its steady beat, though clearly a little faster than usual with the moment we were wrapped up in.

“I know it’s scary, the thought of losing you has woken me up in the middle of the night too many times. But I can’t keep going on like this. I want to know what it’s like to hold you, to kiss you, I want to know what it’s like to love you. Whether we win or lose this war,” Poe’s voice cracked with emotion, “I want to be by your side.”

If he hadn’t made it easy on me before, he was making it nearly impossible now. With every word he said, my heart swelled and my mind went blank as it searched for a rebuttal.

“Please give us a shot, Y/n,” Poe whispered as he studied my face, trying to find his answer.

Words failed me as I felt the pounding of his heart in my palm, the metaphor of it not lost on me. Poe had laid everything out for me to either take or destroy. It was my call. And I knew with my new knowledge, I couldn’t spend another day living in the misery of loving him and not doing anything about it.

I slid my hand off his chest, grasping his hand and placing it on my hip. His fingers tensed at first at the feeling of my skin, his eyes locking with mine searching for hesitation. When he found none, he relaxed and squeezed my waist gently. I shifted closer into him till our chests were pressed together, I shivered at the contact as I shakily moved my hands to grip his shoulders. Poe maneuvered his arm under me to wrap around my waist, enveloping me in him. We were standing on the edge, about to fall into something wonderful.

“I-I think I can give you more than a shot,” I whispered, watching the way his eyes lit up at my words.

Poe slowly dragged a finger along my figure till he reached my chin, tilting my chin up so our lips met. Finally. Months of desire and longing exploded in a single kiss, the euphoria of the moment ran through my veins. Our lips danced together in perfect harmony, moving together slowly and passionately. Poe’s tongue slid between my lips, begging for permission to deepen the kiss, and I happily parted for him with a whimper. As he entered, he rolled onto his back and pulled me with him so I was straddling him. He sat up and pulled me tighter to him while also snaking a hand up to my back. I rocked against Poe as my hands slid into his wet hair, eliciting a groan from him at the combination of sensations. The hand against my spine moved to the back of my head, pushing me as close as he could possibly have me and intensifying our kiss. This was surely the definition of bliss; a soaking wet Poe Dameron moaning beneath me and kissing me like it was our last night alive.

———————

The next morning, redressed in our now dry clothes, we met Rey and Finn on a landing platform. The sight of the Falcon was a welcome one as Poe and I did our best to appear as if nothing had changed between us. Once we boarded, Rey came up and us both hugs, followed directly by a gasp.

“What?” I asked, worried she’d sensed something was wrong or-

Shit.

“Finn!” she called out before racing off to wherever he was, “You owe me twenty credits!”

“Were they betting on us?” I said with a horrified chuckle.

“Does it matter?” he smiled, “I’m the real winner, I finally get to be with you.”

[heartofsnark]

Can You Feel The Sun? (Chapter One): I'll let you in if you say it's okay

Notes: So, I’m taking inspiration from more than one lifepath start for my V and overall, I’m not sure how I feel about this first chapter. I’m not as confident in it as I have been in some of my other works and it’s undergone some heavy rewrites. But I’m officially sick of looking at it, so lets go. Still getting a feel for writing the cyberpunk characters too, tbh.

Word Count:  13083

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Internal Feels and struggles, (Aidan/V is very conflicted and struggling), Morning after sex

If you haven’t yet, please read the prologue: link here

Four years, a million miles, and a new alias later, not Aidan but V is standing in a motel bathroom, fresh from the shower. There’s a bruise forming on her chin from what she can’t remember. She touches up the two shaved slits in her left eyebrow, a pointless aesthetic choice given she wears a mask, she knows. But, she likes it and that’s what matters most. She pulls her bleached blonde hair back into a little ponytail, before brushing her teeth and changing. 

She fastens her mask, a repurposed scav mask that she uses, not only to hide from her former family but to help her function in this world. No longer the green with red and pink faces the scavs use, it’s now black with white x-d out eyes and a wicked toothy grin. Vaguely cartoony and ominous, not her choice, but she’s far too nostalgic to ever change it. 

Data and logistics flash across her vision, optic tech coming to life now that the mask is on. Finally, she puts in her hearing aids,  the noise of the world coming back to her, the hum of a broken AC, the beat of a song coming from the radio, and a woman’s snoring drifting through the paper-thin walls. V pulls up her hood before she leaves the bathroom, ready to begin, her throat tight as she thinks of what the day holds. 

I saw in you what life was missing

You lit a flame that consumed my hate

I'm not one for reminiscing but

I'd trade it all for your sweet embrace

The radio plays an old song from Ava’s favorite band, V knows the heavy drone of them anywhere, though she never can quite recall their name or song titles, only reminded of the days she pretended to give a shit about them in hopes it’d earn her at least a pity kiss. Why the hell the radio still plays music that old is beyond her.  She turns her hearing aids volume down a little lower. 

Music brought down to a hum, V’s attention turns to the bed, a woman who’s name she can’t remember is tangled in the sheets. Sun streaming through the window to shine on a bare freckled shoulder, the woman is around V’s age, maybe a year or two older with a pixie cut of dyed lilac hair. She fits in well with V’s track record of bedmates; unable or unwilling to give even half of what she got, leaving the nomad to take care of herself. But, as much as she’d appreciate an orgasm from something other than her own hand, she gets what she wants from them in the end; a glorified body pillow that helps her sleep. 

“Mmm,  you up?” The woman asks, stirring from under the blankets, she pushes a hand into her hair. She blinks her eyes a few times, before taking in V’s outfit, “you’re leaving already?”

V’s mask optics quickly reads lips, giving the world subtitles, essential when she wants to forgo hearing aids. The tech is far more advanced than the human eye when it comes to lip reading. The only downside is the mask requires someone to be facing her as they speak. So, the hearing aids are still necessary unless people are kind enough to accommodate her; which they never are. 

“Gotta get back on the road,” V signs, a modulator translator in her mask speaks it in a monotone AI voice. 

“You don’t wanna get breakfast or…?” 

“No time,” V crouches down beside the bed, so she can properly meet the woman’s eyes and, “you remember what I told you, don’t you?” 

“About not telling anyone what you look like or whatever…?” 

“No whatever’s to it, if anyone comes around asking about me, you keep your mouth shut. Got it?” 

“Yeah yeah, crystal clear, asshole.” The woman groans, not liking the aggressive tone V’s picked up, but it’s a serious matter. Most people get it, everyone nowadays seems to have enemies, but apparently not everyone understands. More flies with honey as they say. 

“I’m sorry,” she signs, “it’s just important to me, life or death. I’ll order some room service for you before I go, sound good?” 

“Hmm…I like pancakes.” 

“Alright, I’ll put the order in then head out.” 

“Okay…I won’t tell anyone, about you, promise.” 

“I appreciate that,” V signs, putting in the room service order on the tablet provided. 

Thankfully, pancakes are enough to earn the woman’s silence on the matter. The less people who have a bone to pick with her, the better. Though, she still hopes The Herd can’t follow her where she’s going anyway. Dufflebag thrown over her shoulder, V leaves the motel, stepping out into the dry heat of California. Even in the early months of 2077, the desert is burning hot, though it will be freezing by nightfall. The joys of the Badlands. 

Yucca is a little nothing town south of Night City, surrounded by long agonizing stretches of desert. Not a place she’d give another thought to if not for her vehicle breaking down. The cargo in the trunk, locked up so the mechanic can’t get nosy, is meant for a client in Night City. The job came with forms and docs that’ll get her past the border. 

She rolls up the metal garage door to the shop, seeing the older man in a trucker hat and flannel working over her car. The old Thorton Galena “Rattler”, bought off a Bakker nomad, who thankfully had no idea who her birth family is. It’s put together with rust, duct tape, and luck, bought for fifty eddies because it’s a walking tetanus trap; but it’s hers.  

“Hey…drifter…” He greets her with a weary expression. 

There’s two kinds of folks in these small towns that are scattered across  the country like stars. Those who are weary of outsiders, know the dangers that lurk across the Badlands and have their guard up the moment someone they don’t know shows up. And for them, her refusal to show her face or speak with her own voice only adds to the suspicion. 

And then there’s the other ones, the ones like that lilac haired girl still curled up in dusty sheets, eating shitty motel pancakes. The ones who see her, the people like her, the nomads, the drifters who travel the country and they see someone who can bring a moment of excitement to their dull little lives. The ones bored to tears with watching tumbleweeds all day and will climb in bed with V and their own preconceived notions of who she is just to have a night of excitement. 

Each sees danger when they look at her, chaos in human form, someone who may just disrupt the status quo of their piss-pot of a town. An idea that terrifies or excites them. Then the realization hits that she’s just breezing through, a ghost without a trace. And for a moment they’ll be relieved or disappointed, then they’ll forget she was ever there. 

“You got my car fixed?” she signs before she rolls the garage door down a foot or two shy of the ground. 

“Not quite, electric coupling module is shot to shit.” 

“You said it was an easy fix.” 

“Guess I was wrong,” he turns to face her, arm crossed over his chest, “you could always find a new shop, find someone else who won’t question some scav lookin’ nomad why she’s hugging the border.” 

“I’m not a fuckin’ scav, move,” she signs before shoving him away from her car engine, if he can’t get this thing up and running, she’ll do it her god damn self. She needs to get to Night City, yesterday, she’s already frustrated and him acting like he’s doing her a favor by staring at her engine for an hour isn’t helping. 

“Got any idea what you’re doing?” Condescension drips from the mechanic’s words. 

“Gonna, rig a hotwire, bypass the coupling.” She switches out some plugs, trying to find something, anything that will save her heap. 

“Compressor will run on and on, could seize up.” 

“Better than standing around scratching my head.” 

She walks around her Rattler, pulling open the driver side door and climbing in. Please, any god listening right now, don’t fuck this up for her. V presses down the ignition and tries to rev the engine; sputters but doesn’t start. 

“It’s like I was telling you,” the mechanic grumbles, so she tries again and another sputter. 

“Fuck off,” she signs, wishing the tone of the AI voice would better convey her frustration as she begs her car, her baby, to start. 

Come on baby, she thinks and her hands twitch to sign, her voice catching. Her desperation nearly making her verbal. Her rattler, her baby, her beautiful heap of rust and luck has carried her through three years in the Badlands. Just a little further, into the city, and V will find her a decent mechanic to give her vehicular child the treatment she deserves. She presses the ignition and revs the gas. 

And that engine roars to life and it’s the sweetest sound she’s ever heard, her baby lives, she fucking lives! V can’t contain her smile, thankfully hidden behind the cover of her mask, she could scream. She’s starting the next chapter of her life with her baby by her side. 

“Not too shabby, question is how long will it last you,” the mechanic rains on her parade as he shuts the hood. 

“Better than whatever you were trying.” 

V rolls her eyes and gets her walkie talkie radio out, hooking it to a jack in her car to try to boost a signal; she needs to let her client know she’s coming into the city, so they can prepare to pick up the cargo. 

“Antennae on this heap don’t look like it packs much of a punch, doubt you’ll hear much.” 

There was a broadcasting comms tower outside of the town, she saw it as she made her way in, she’ll get in and boost her signal with it. Should be fairly easy. She just wants to make it into the city, her chance at a new life. Seventeen years with The Herd, under her father’s thumb. Three years running, never able to settle down, never knowing when her family would find her when she’d be put down. Years wasted, she’s ready to live, to really live on her own fucking terms. 

A flash of khaki fabric, visible through the opened gap in the garage door catches her eye and a chill runs down her spine. Trouble. Black cybernetic hands catch the bottom of the metal door and roll it up; an older man in a sheriff’s uniform with a cowboy hat comes strolling in. 

“Hey, Mike, didn’t know you had a customer…” He draws out, looking over V as if she was carrying the plague. 

“Just rolled in a few hours ago, I, uh, thought she would have told you.”

“Now, don’t you worry, we’re gonna hash this out,” the sheriff says, strolling over to her, he puts an arm up on her car roof, leaning against her open car door  and looming over her, “Don'tcha know you owe the sheriff a word when you pay his town a visit? To tell him what brought you here, maybe even over a cup of coffee.”

“You that hard up for dates?” She signs in return, catching a muscle twitch of annoyance, and she smirks behind her mask. Five seconds in and she’s getting under his skin. 

“Names Andrew Jones, you probably heard of me.” 

“Can’t say that I have.” 

“Served in special ops in the last war, silver shoguns, ring any bells?” 

“Can’t say that it does.” 

“Hmm,” he grumbles, “don’t like to get along, do you?” 

“Can’t say that I do.” 

He scowls at her as he shifts his weight off her door and moves to walk in front of her vehicle, looking it over. His foot raises up, dirty boot now on the grill of her car and she wishes nothing more than to just drive forward and run his dumbass over. She doesn’t have fucking time for this; her client is waiting. She doesn’t even want to be in his dumbass little town; she already fucked the only good thing here and found nothing but disappointment. 

“That a nomad vehicle? I might have figured. Scav mask, nomad car; what that make you?” 

“You got a problem?”

“I’ll tell you what my problem is, nothing boils my blood like a fuckin’ stray. Where your clan pitch camp?” 

“No camp, no clan, just little ole me, aren’t you lucky?” 

 “Don’t buy it, nomads always stick with their pack.” 

“Got no pack, they don’t suit me much.”

“Makes you an outcast among outcasts.” He sneers at her, looking down his nose at her, like he’s something special and she’s gum stuck on his shoe. 

“Let me guess, you’re the type of guy who believes every line of shit the corps feed you, that nomads are the world’s greatest evil.” 

“No, I’m a man who respects order, corps brought us that order-”

“The corps pay you and have you on a leash like a dog, you know that?” 

“And you don’t wanna see me bare my fangs.” 

“Try and I’ll put you down,” V’s fingers move before she can give another though, no interest in making peace with this asshole. 

“You threatening me, girl?” 

“No more than you are me, stay out of my way and I’ll get out of yours.” 

“Big talk coming from a misfit.”

She lets out a short laugh, the sound layered with her modulator, making it louder and doubled.  

“Look, I’m not scared of some shithole town’s sheriff who thinks a badge is a crown,” she signs, hands moving so quick and hurried that the sound of skin hitting skin rings out, “I want to leave your town, you want me gone, move your ass and I’ll make us both happy.” 

“Get going,” he moves out from in front of her car, “I got no mind to see you drifting around these parts.” 

“What part of this conversation made you think I want to?” She finishes signing before slamming her car door shut. 

“What was that drifter?” His voice fades away as she guns it out of the repair shop, rolling her eyes behind her mask. 

Though, maybe breaking into the communications tower is technically drifting, but she needs to radio her client. Sinclaire will need to know she’s coming into the city, so they can meet up, exchange eddies for cargo, and she can figure life out from there. She takes a road that goes north and cuts through the desert, her Rattler practically born for off roading as she takes the heavy bumps of the sand dunes and drives through cacti, pulling up to graffiti covered bumpers just outside the fenced in tower. 

It's an amalgamation of latticed rusted metal with satellites on top, graffiti decorating the buildings and chunks of the tower itself. It clearly hasn’t been used or maintained in years, but it should still boost her signal. V climbs out of her vehicle, trying to open the door to the fencing. It doesn’t budge at all and she pouts, then kicks it as hard as she can. Her steel toed boot works as well as a key, making it swing open. 

It’s a quick little journey, two little flights of stairs she jogs up with ease. Then it’s a ladder, the peeling yellow paint sticking to her palms. And then she’s as high as she can reach, transmitter box in view. But with the view around her, wind whipping through, she takes a moment to peel off her mask and breathe. Sun beating down and warming her face, the breeze cools her skin under it’s rays, wicking away sweat that sticks to her brow. 

A deep inhale of air before she forces herself to move again, the rusted front of the transmitter box breaks at the hinges when she opens it, she pays no mind and throws it aside then jacks in her walkie-talkie radio. V leans against the tower railing, radio in hand, but not ready to let go of the quiet. 

The smell of rust and paint surrounds her as she takes everything in. She’ll miss this, she realizes, the open road and the Badlands have always been her home. But it’s not safe, not really. The Herd has shown no signs of letting this go. For four years, she’s dodged her sister and Ava; the two tasked with being her trackers, repeated close calls over all this time. They’ve interrogated and demanded answers from the folks in these sleepy little towns she breezes through. The mask has helped, but every day the feeling of them nipping at her heels gets worse. Her stomach churns at the lengths they’ve gone to. V’s father wasted no time in turning her sister against her, turning Eira into a weapon to do his bidding, to put down the defected child who never should have made it past nine. 

He’ll kill her for not falling in that same line, for refusing to be his soldier. Forced to choose between death or conformity, practically one in the same, she tries to seek a third option.

Night City has its own rules, laws, restrictions; a city completely controlled by corps. It’s disgusting in its own right. But The Herd isn’t allowed in the city, border control of Night City has strict orders to keep all known or identifiable members of the Raffen Shiv clan out. Corps hate Nomads, as a general rule, but they really hate The Herd. A Nomad family with no respect for anyone else’s laws, a strong anti-consumerism, anti-cyberware, and anti-corp attitude; The Herd might as well send a personal fuck you to Night City.  Its not perfect, not even good,  a crime infested corp run cesspool, but it’s the safest option. More security, more boundaries, more faces so V can blend in.  Even if Eira and Ava make it into Night City, which she’s not naïve enough to believe impossible, they’ll have six million folks to work their way through. Nomads stay in pack because groups provide safety; a sea of city faces is just an extension of that. 

But that safety comes at a cost. It means no more open spaces, no more serenity, no more campfires with burnt marshmallows, or driving down dirt roads as fast as she can with her windows down, and screaming out in excitement as she takes on every bump and turn with reckless abandon. 

There’s no perfect choice, every decision carries a sacrifice, but if the cost of staying in the Badlands could mean her life, her freedom, her identity… the city is the better option… she thinks…

A pessimistic or perhaps realistic part of her can’t help but feel like he’ll get his way, her father will have her head on a pike, will slaughter his own daughter like cattle. And his power over The Herd will only grow. After all, if he’d go this far to put down his own child for an act of betrayal, how could anyone else ever think to be spared his wrath. The already loyal army of followers will be further forced into submission by fear. 

Maybe this is all a waste of time, she wonders, often does. Maybe it’s just dragging out the inevitable. Hell, a part of her wonders if she’d be better off begging for mercy, if he’d offer it just to maintain control. Would she be safer if she just gave in? Is she really the kind of person who needs to be half of a whole to function, to feel safe?

But, is it wrong to want something more? To be able to look back at her life, no matter how long or short it may be, and know she lived, that she gave it all she had. That she stayed true to herself, whoever that is. To prove that she doesn’t need them, that she isn’t a burden depending on others to carry her weight. She can make something of herself in Night City, can live on her own terms, even if only until the inevitable comes knocking at her door. It will be a bit of breathing room, a chance to just be, instead of constantly looking over her shoulder.

Family was meant to be her security, her safety, but were they ever really? V shakes her head, if she goes down every thought pattern, every reason, every doubt, every feeling; she’ll be here forever. 

She pulls her mask back down and radios her client after another moment of soaking in the breeze, it's odd they didn’t go through a fixer, but frankly she doesn’t care. A middleman who takes part of the cut isn’t ideal for her either. She’s looking for the past possible new start and the more eddies in her pocket, the better that’ll be. 

“V?” Sinclaire speaks her alias once she gets through. 

“Speaking,” she signs, as always thankful her mask spares her voice in moments like this. 

“Where the hell are you?” 

“Hit a snag, but I’m on my way into the city now.”

“That’s what I like to hear, once you’re through the border radio me and we’ll talk meet up.” 

“The docs you sent,” she signs, thinking to the falsified passport docs he had sent out her way, “they should get me through border check.” 

“Absolutely, border control barely checks ID on customs, but that little pamphlet will breeze you through.” 

“Okay, just checking.” 

“Don’t worry V, this is a piece of cake. You’re gonna love Night City, I’m telling you.” 

“Yeah? That so?” 

“Mmhmm, once we finish the trade off, I’ll show you around. There’s a place in Wellsprings with synth steak to die for, I’ll treat you.” 

“Sounds like a plan, I’m heading out now.” She agrees easily, it’ll be better to have more connections in the city, people she gets along with well enough and know the place better than her. 

“See ya soon.” 

Her client doesn’t know her exact clan, just knows she needs papers to get into the city. There’s more than one group of Raffen Shiv that aren’t allowed in city limits; hell she’s pretty sure Wraith’s aren’t.  Though, corps make special deals to let them in when they need work done. As shitty as they are, The Herd has yet to whore themselves out to that degree, one thing she can still respect about her father. She fiddles with the leather cuff bracelet around her wrist, that hides the small crown shaped brand that he placed on her skin as a child, his way of marking his blood family. She’s considered taking a knife to it, but some part of her isn’t ready to.  

V’s steps are hurried as she leaves the comms tower, heavy boots stomping over metal as she makes the quick journey back to her Rattler, the red beast of a car waiting where she left it. She climbs into the vehicle and twists the vehicle around. She follows the dirt road back out to the highway, headed out to the city. 

She races back through the little town, picking up as much speed as she can, wind whipping through the open windows. Yucca is a blink and its gone, V having cruises right through the nothing town and continuing down the highway. Empty stretches of desert decorated with cacti as she races down the expanse of roadway. 

Then the signs warn her of border crossing, nearing the city, her heart rate picking up as she grows closer to changing her life. A border checkpoint, enclosures and offices with an overpass above the divided lanes of the highway. Each lane leads to a border control officer with holograms labeling what each lane is for based on why someone is coming into the city; whether or not they have cargo to check. She slows down, so she can pull off her mask, the less suspicious she looks the better. Border guards aren’t going to stand for being questioned by The Herd, so its minimal risk. 

She switches over to the lane for customs check, pulling up to the raised blockade, beyond it another car coming through is scanned. An armed border guard not far away and she waits as the vehicle is giving the go ahead to leave; blockade coming down and guard ushering her to drive forward. V drives that little bit forward; cement yellow blockades raise before and behind her vehicle. Locking her into place makes her uncomfortable, like she can’t escape. 

“Stay in the security check area,” a guard tells her over the intercom, like she would have tried to drive through the blockade without his warning. A beat i silence, a minute or two passes as the scanners run along her car. 

“Would the owner of the vehicle please report for further questioning.”

V grabs the falsified passport, manifest marked LOA, and the bribe chip for good measure. She keeps her head down as she gets out of the vehicle, makes her body language small as she walks into the office building. Maintaining a non-threatening demeanor in order to ease any friction that may come her way. The door automatically opens, a waiting room of people and a desk behind bulletproof glass where a worker stands. A map of the New United States across one of the walls. 

“If  you’re armed, leave your weapon here.” The worker behind the desk calls out and V unholsters her revolver, allowing him to check it and put it in a drawer, “report to room two.”

She nods, feeling naked without a weapon on her hip, but she knows this is the way of things. V turns the corner, finding the door with a two marked next to it. She opens the door and a lump forms in her throat. It's a small cramped little excuse of a room, a guard already at the rinky dink desk and a chair in front of it. She takes small timid steps to the chair, discolored with either dried blood or rust, she can’t be certain. The man is dressed in a neon vest; some sort of either goggles or optic implants over his eyes that scan her over as she sits down. He wastes not a second in lighting a cigarette and her nose wrinkles as smoke billows to fill the small room. She can already feel the stench of it clinging to her clothes and wishes she could snatch it from his hand. 

“Papers?” he asks. 

She hands over the manifest, her falsified passport, and the credit chip without a word. Metallic implant augmented fingers put the cred chip aside to look over the little blue document, then he places the paper over the cred chip, hiding it from prying eyes that may peek into the office. Meanwhile, V tries to maintain her most innocent of expression, puppy dog eyes primed if any issue arrives. Small and adorable has few benefits in this world; but she plans to take advantage where she can. Being underestimated, assumed to be weak or docile, as much as it hurts does have perks. 

“What are you transporting?” 

“It’s all in there,” she signs in response, because frankly she has no idea what she’s transporting. Some corp crap. 

“Hmmm, tell me, who do you ride with?” 

“Bakkers,” she lies through her teeth, her car was bought off one, so it seems like an easy enough excuse. 

“They stop installing personal links?” He asks, puffing out a plume of smoke, his gaze on her linkless palm. 

“Religious reasons, most of the clan has them, but my mom raised us to stay ‘ganic, god given, ya know?”  She signs, a practiced excuse for when she’s asked about her lack of implants. Same as the excuse laid out in the passport. 

“Is that so…” he takes a deep drag off his cigarette and V bites her lip not to say anything she’s hit with another face full of smoke, “you know, times like this I’m so glad not to be on the other side of that table.” 

“Feelings mutual,” she signs before she can even consider stopping, aggravated by this man’s entire existence at this point. She gave him all the documents, this should be done with by now. 

“Go on now.” 

She jumps at the chance to be excused, taking in a deep fresher breath of air when she’s released from the smoke box of an interrogation room. V runs a hand through her hair as she turns the corner. There’s another armored guard standing beside the desk now, his eyes doing a lazy look down of V’s frame.

“Don’t forget to collect your personal items.” The worker behind the desk tells her and she stops there, giving him a raised eyebrow before he goes to collect her gun, “be careful with that toy and welcome to Night City.”

As much as she’d like to gripe about the toy comment; as if she’s a child, she can’t help but find herself smiling at the greeting. She’s finally here, finally getting into the city. A life on her terms; a little breathing room between her and the clan. V holsters her gun, grin playing on her lips.

“Those little shits all imagine Night City to be some sort of paradise,” the armored guard comments about her, but not to her, looking over her to the worker behind the desk.

“What are you gonna do they’re all young, naïve, which is just another word for ignorant.” The worker replies and V’s grin has died, maybe that’s the case for others, but Night City is exactly what she needs. Her situation isn’t the same. She doubts those young ignorant kids they’re talking about were running from their own death.

She shakes her head, not worth the effort it’d take to respond, V leaves the building. Her Rattler a short distance away, she’s nearly bouncing as she rushes towards it, climbing into the driver’s seat. Even the overpass above her has words welcoming her to the city, she’s sure she won’t find paradise, but there...she’ll make this life her own.

There’s barely a blip of distance between her and the border check when she sees them. Black corporate vans coming towards her, her heart jolts into her throat and sweat edges along her skin. 

“Fuck!” V curses out loud, border fucker tipped off the corp.

“Stop the vehicle! You are transporting corporate property!” A voice rings out from the vans and V takes a sharp turn off the road, her baby is meant for off roading after all. 

“I repeat, stop the vehicle!” The corporate voice yells out again. 

“Stop the vehicle,” she murmurs in a whiny voice to herself, mocking the corpo, “give us back our stuff, stop committing crimes, wah, wah, wah.” 

 She rolls her eyes, amused by her own bullshit as she punches in the keypad of her Rattler, starting up the automated turret attached to the roof. It’s not the most high tech system, but it has a lock on function and should get the job done.  The sounds of bullets pinging off metal creates a cacophony around her as she careens through an abandoned rural area, taking sharp turns to try to shake them. V takes out her hearing aids to stop her forming headache and focus on what she’s doing. The rumble of her turret shakes the car as it fires, letting her know its still working fine. Glass break out of the back of her car, a bullet piercing through, her back sprayed with the shards. She’ll be digging a bullet out of her dashboard later, she’s sure. 

A bright flash of orange, flames enveloping a van as her turret hits a gas tank the right way. One down, two to go. She keeps the pedal to the floor, speed topping out as she races away from the approaching vans. Another sharp turn and she watches as a van crashes into a wall, one last stubborn fucker. 

There’s a slight tense to the vibration of her turret overhead, bullets hitting the top of it, aiming to disarm it, as she goes through another turn. A shot bursts through her side mirror, assholes, do they have any idea how much it’s going to cost her to repair this heap. More than it’s probably worth.  

The vibration that shakes her car settles down over her head, turret no longer firing, but the van is still chasing her. It fucking jammed, her turret fucking jammed again, of course it did. V hauls off and punches the roof of her Rattler, right beneath where the turret is, used to this issue at this point. As always, the hard punch manages to spur it back on and it fires up again, blasting at the last van at full speed. 

A bullet hits the corpo van’s front tire, knocking it off path; final one down. 

“Suck my dick, Arasaka!” She screams out for no one else to hear.

She’s grinning as she finds a collection of abandoned trailers and garages, pulling into one, she’ll need to call her client, figure out a meeting place. They may want her to lay low for a bit until Arasaka calms their tits about this. But she’s in Night City, finally, what could go wrong from here. Cut out a nice living for herself, solo work or maybe something else, who knows. Get herself a place and do whatever the fuck she wants from there. She slides on her mask, puts her hearing aids back in, and rings her client. 

“Sinclaire?” 

“V, you make it over the border yet?” 

“Yep, out just south of Pacifica according to the GPS, little run in with the corps but I shook them. When and where you wanna meet?” 

“Little China, you know where the old Club Atlantis is?” 

“Not remotely, but ping me the coordinates and I’ll find it.” 

“Sending it to you now, think you can get there by three am?” 

“Yeah, no problem, prefer to do this under cover of darkness?” 

“Much prefer, see you soon, V.” 

V hangs up the call and punches in the coordinates he sent, GPS map firing up to tell her where to go. She pulls out of the abandoned garage and gets herself back out on the road, driving further into the city. 

She doesn’t like driving in the city. V determines about a minute into being into the actual bulk of the city. There’s neon signs and adverts everywhere she looks; most displaying someones ass or tits.  She wouldn’t consider herself a prude, far from it given just how many people she’s spread her own legs for, but she does appreciate some decorum… These are sleazy, dirty… 

And there’s traffic. Even at the late hour, people are on the roads, and they’re slow. So, fucking slow. Move, your asses. A motorcycle might be a good investment, she’d be able to just ride between traffic or weave through the other cars.

She manages to reach the spot before three am, though she wants to scream by the time she arrives. The building blends in easily, just another large shuttered up structure with graffiti covering its outside; symbols for the Tyger Claws, because correct spelling is a bad look for a gang, apparently. 

V lets out a huff of air as she gets out of her car to wait;  examining the little bloody scratches on her shoulders and arms where the glass hit her. Nothing serious, a splash of rubbing alcohol to disinfect and she’ll be fine. But there is a slight sting to the injuries that make moving her arms and shoulders uncomfortable. Corpo fucks. V leans against her car, taking in her new city. 

And she shouldn’t be amazed, she knows that. The traffic drove her nuts and she’s been in landfills that smelled nicer. But despite it all, she finds herself impressed at the buildings that stretch on into the heavens. The bright lights and neon against a dark sky is gorgeous; a high vantage point and she’s sure it’d look like something out of a movie. She finds herself in awe as hope nestles its way into her chest. 

Not perfect, nothing ever is, but she can work with it. She can build something here. 

A sharp honk gets her attention, disrupting her moment of reverie. The street and road have been abandoned mostly; only her and the limousine coming to a stop next to her. She gives a slight wave to the driver, then forms a V with her fingers, as if they needed any more indication of who she is. 

The driver is not her client, instead a big bulk of a man with gorilla arms implants, black metal for fingers, he gets out of the driver’s seat and a similarly sized man steps out of the back seat. Her client’s got muscle around him it seems, maybe he just wants to make sure she doesn’t get squirrely and try to pull something. 

Both guards out, they open the backseat door close to the street and her client finally emerges. He’s not a particularly tall man, though as with most adults, he is taller than her. Sandy slicked back hair and unnaturally bright green eyes; likely optics. 

“V, darling, nice to see you in the flesh, you got the goods?” 

“Right here,” she signs before moving behind her car, opening the trunk so he can see the Arasaka cargo crate.

“Fantastic, load it up, boys.” 

“Woah, woah,” V signs and sits on the crate before the two bodyguards can grab it, “eddies first, then you take the cargo.” 

“Oh, V, honey…” His voice drips with condescension and a chill reverberates down her spine, “you did good work, only a shame you’re so naive.” 

“The fuck do-” 

Pain cracks through her skull, knocking V off the cargo crate and onto the ground. Another sharp thwack of pain across her head and back; something blunt striking her before she can get up. She groans out as she rolls over onto her back, looking up at the bodyguard who’s holding a baseball bat, what looks like blood staining it. Her head and back hurt; her head spinning and she’s unable to get her bearings.

“Load the cargo into the car.” 

“What do you want us to do with her?” One of the guards asks Sinclaire and he looks down at her, like a cockroach. 

“Eh, no one will come looking for her. Might as well throw her away with the trash,” he kicks her side, sneering when she grunts in pain, “give her another hit for good measure.” 

“Got it,” the guard nods and starts to raise the baseball again, high above his head for a hard swing and she instinctively twists to give him the back of her head again. 

“We’ll scrap the car, ge-” 

And then the bat comes down on her, a rush of pain before consciousness slips from her grasp. 

Time loses all meaning when the world is blacked out, but eventually the light filters back in and her senses return. She can feel her hearing aids still in and its reaffirmed by the sounds she hears, the faint murmur of people. The smell around her is awful, disgusting, and she can feel stuff around her. Plastic bags scratching at her skin, something wet touching her arm. Her mask shifted and she forces herself to move, she pulls it back in place, blinking. 

Garbage bags, some intact and others shredded. He actually had her thrown into the trash, that son of a bitch. V pushes the trash bags off of her, city lights starting to glimmer through, neon against a black sky. She finds a metal edge of the dumpster and pulls herself up, body still aching in protest as she emerges from her would be grave. Cold air hits her bare arms, the city far colder in the early months than the Badlands. She’s in an alleyway dumpster and she hears gasps of shocks, turning to see civilians shocked to see someone climbing out of the trash. She’s be ashamed if she weren’t so furious.

V punches the side of the dumper, feeling it reverberate with the force, this was supposed to be her shot at a new life and now she’s in a god damn dumpster. 

She’s going to kill Sinclaire, she’s going to fucking kill him, son of a bitchfucked her over and he’s going to pay with blood. But how the hell does she even reach him? He never gave her details of where he spends his time or let alone where he lives. Hell, she doesn’t even know where she is. She needs her car back and her luggage from it, she doesn’t even have a change of fucking clothes as it stands right now. 

“What time is it? Where am I?” she signs at the civilians, still straddling the edge of the dumpster, maybe they can be some help. 

“Uhhh, like 10pm? And Heywood…?”

So, he dragged her away quite a bit, so...maybe he frequents the area. Still doesn’t tell her much, she needs to find him. And she needs to find her car, but how the fuck does she accomplish that?

“Don’t suppose you have any idea where I could find Luke Sinclaire, do you?” 

“Uh, no,” the stranger kind of raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the whole situation, “but uh, you could always talk to Padre. He’s the local fixer.” 

Of course, she’d have to get a fixer involved, not using one is probably what got her in this mess in the first place. Sinclaire knew she had no ties to her Nomad family, new to the city, and no fixer involved. He basically had license to do whatever he wanted without fearing someone would come for him or come looking for her. V touches the back of her head, fingers coming back red, dried blood matting her hair. He meant for her to die, she’s sure, but the blunt trauma wasn’t enough to do her in. 

“Where’s Padre?” she signs, she doesn’t have money to pay a fixer but maybe they can work something out. She doesn’t want to lone wolf it and end up in a dumpster again. 

“He has his own parish, but he’s usually at the El Coyote Cojo right about now, might be able to catch him if you hurry.” 

“El Coyote Cojo, which would be…where?” 

“Bar a little north of here, you really aren’t from around here, are you?” 

“Thanks for your help and stunning observational skills; I’m off.” 

She pulls her hood back up over her head, hiding her bloody matted hair as she leaves the alley way and goes vaguely north. New chapter of her life, she’s injured, alone, broke, and smells like garbage. 

Honestly, sounds about right for her luck. But, she’s far from given up. She navigates the Night City streets, stopping to ask a stranger where the bar is again before she finally finds it. She keeps expecting to get weird looks, like the ones that were usually sent her way in the small towns she’d visit on the road. But even with her mask, no one pays her much mind. And why would they?

V passes at least four more outrageous looking strangers along her way to the bar. People’s who’s entire body is made of gold cyberware, a woman with skin that looks like plastic, a cowboy with cybernetic arms and legs, and a girl with what looks like cat ear implants on top of her head. Things that make her stop and give a second glance, but no one here even minds. Night City has its own weirdness limit and her mask doesn’t even come close to hitting it. There's an anonymity she’s never known before and its kind of nice. Even bloody, mask on, trash covered; she’s just one face in a sea of millions. 

El Coyote Cujo is a lowlit bar with traditional Mexican decorations across it and as expected in the evening, it has a fair number of patrons bustling around. People shooting pool, downing tequila, and chatting amongst themselves. And for the first time, she finds eyes landing on her. Not necessarily weirded out by her masked appearance, but more so wary of a stranger. She pays them no mind, employees here should know where Padre frequents or if he’s still here. There’s two she’s able to find right away; the bartender and a busboy. She starts with the bartender, walking herself over to a stool, he’s an older man with dark hair and a golden arm. He walks over to her once she’s sat, a smile bringing out the crows feet at the corners of his eyes. 

“A new face, what can I get for you?” 

“I’m actually trying to find someone,” she signs, “someone told me the local fixer, Padre, is a regular here.”

“Ah, he’s probably at his usual table upstairs, not sure he’s interested in taking on any new clients though.” 

“I’ll see if we can figure something out.” She steps away from the bar and heads upstairs, its mostly vacant, making her task just a little bit easier. 

Her gaze is drawn to an older man with sparsely any hair and age spots along his skin, a gold cross around his neck. A few men in tacky gold jewelry around him.

“Padre?” The AI modulator voice calls out and she sees the older man’s eyes land on her. His guards around him seem to tense, prepared for if she sends up being a threat. 

“I’m not sure, I know you,” Padre comments, looking over her disheveled appearance. Being beaten and thrown in a dumpster doesn’t do much for your looks. 

“You don’t, but I’m looking for a fixer, need help if you’re interested in hearing me out.”

“Come, sit.” 

“Thank you, sir,” she signs before sliding into the booth seat across the table from him. 

“How can I assist you, child?” 

“So, a guy named Luke Sinclaire contracted me to smuggle corp cargo into the city, I go to meet up with him and he tricks me. Stole the cargo, sent my car to be scrapped, and had his gangoons drop me.  I need help finding him so I can get the cargo, my car, and my dignity back. Maybe kill him too, depending on how I feel, but we’ll see.” 

“You didn’t use a fixer, I take it?” He raises an eyebrow with the energy of a dad chiding a child for making a stupid mistake. 

“No, I was desperate and it bit me in the ass, so I’m doing what I should have done in the first place.” 

“And I’m to assume, you have no money with which to do this either?” He says, having read her like a book. 

“I’m sorry to be asking favors the first time we meet and I don’t expect you to do this for nothing, of course, but I was wondering if we could work out an arrangement instead.”

“And what sort of arrangement would that be?” 

“I’ll do a merc job for you, your choosing, I’ll take no cut of the profit; a completely free job in exchange for you helping me with this.”

“And how can I trust you to do this job well, I do not know you or your work.” 

“Well, I’d do the job for you first, so if its crap you could not help me. I fully expect to get back what I put in, if I do quality work, you do it in return, I’m desperate here.”

“Come with me, Marcus, get the car,” he tells one of the bulky men who walks off. 

Padre stands and follows behind Marcus, V follows suit as they leave down the stairs and out of the bar towards a dark little alleyway. Marcus pulls up a car and parks it for them. Once parked Marcus gets out and comes back to one of the backseat doors, Padre gets into the back on his own, Marcus opens the door for her. He silently beckons her in and she does what she’s asked, sliding onto the leather seat. Marcus shuts her door before going back around to the driver’s seat, 

“Embers, pull up to the back where the ramp is,” Padre instructs Marcus of where to go. 

And then the car pulls out onto the road. V fiddles with a curl of hair, fidgety and unsure of what to do, why they’re driving out away from the bar. Padre has a far away look in his eye. 

“You’re new to Night City, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah…” 

“And what is your name, I’m afraid I didn’t catch it earlier.” 

“V.” 

“V, I’ve lived in Heywood all my life, it’s roots are strong and watered by blood. Family is what pulls us through, no one is purely independent. The city is ecosystem, each individual playing a vital role that impacts those around them. The relationship between fixers and our mercenaries is an important one, not only is it mutual beneficial, but we keep each other safe. A lesson you’ve had to learn the hard way.” 

“Can’t really argue with that…” 

“People who-“ 

Padre pauses in his words looking out of the window and through it, V can see a car coming up alongside them. The car begins honking furiously at them. Nerves alight and chills slinking up her spine; she has a bad feeling about this. It has to be someone with a bone to pick with Padre. 

“Shit!” Marcus curses, the first word she’s heard him say. 

“Stop the car,” Padre says, with a calming hand on Marcus’s shoulder. 

“What’s this?” V signs, worrying speeding up her hands. 

“Business, you carrying?” 

“Yeah….” V checks her waistband and her revolver is gone because why did she think Sinclaire wouldn’t take her gun, “No.” 

Padre blinks, surprised she’s sure, because who the fuck would be unarmed in Night City. Marcus pulls to a stop, the car once beside them pulls around to park in front of them and a man comes out. He’s dressed in what appear to be green fatigues with a bullet proof vest. As he comes close to V’s window, she sees his gold implants catching the neon lights. 

“Sebastian Ibarra,” the man says in a low voice, as V’s window is rolled down by Marcus, “looks like it’s my lucky day.”

The stranger leans into the window, his left hand is carrying a gun and he casually puts it into the window. Both arms are metal in nature, but they look far from top shelf, at least from her glance. 

“What do you want?” Padre asks him. 

“To settle our biz, once and for all. Got an offer for you, Paddy, so listen up. Get the fuck out of Vista, pull your boys off the street! I’ll give you the Glenn, done deal. No more restless nights, see how generous I can be?” 

A beat of silence and V gives a glance at Padre, he seems far from amused with the man’s bullshit. 

“Well, Paddy?!” 

V lurches at his impatient yell, she doesn’t need this wannabe soldier turned gangbanger fucking up her deal. Her right hand grabs the back of his neck, below the base of his skull and her left grabs the gun. She slams his head against the car roof, his forehead gushing blood at the impact, the shock and pain makes his grip loosen and allows her to steal his pistol before letting him go. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses as he stumbles back, seeing stars and touching at his forehead. She aimed for the soft flesh just before his golden mohawked implant began, blood now steadily streaming from the wound, “you’ll fucking pay for that.” 

She points his own pistol at him, cocking the gun, asking the silent question of if he intends to be shot today. 

“It seems our conversation has come to a close,” Padre speaks calmly, but when she turns she can see the hint of a smile on his lips. 

“Careful Padre, never know who’s got a barrel at your six,” he threatens with blood coating his face like paint, “you neither shitbucket!” 

“Now, I’m armed,” V signs to Padre, as she watches the man climb back into his car, defeated for the moemnt. 

“Marcus, please.” 

The driver pulls out and away, getting them back on the road, as if the exchange had never happened. There’s a moment or two of silence, as V tucks her new gun into her waistband. If Padre takes her up on her offer, she may need it, plus you can generally never have enough firepower. 

“Many people come through the city,” Padre speaks after a beat of silence, “little shits who’s spines go soft the moment they’re looking down the barrel of a gun. And sometimes you get the odd soul, one who can truly hold their own.” 

“Who was that?” She asks, unable to help but smirk behind her mask at the compliment. That she’s one of the odd souls, different from those little shits, that she can hold her own.  V is far from incompetent, even if some shitbird got the jump on her. 

“No one important, he’ll be gone in a week’s time. Another will take his place.”

“The ecosystem will take him out?” 

“People who don’t know their place, soon find themselves without one. He’ll pay for what he’s done. You… paid for your misdeeds, for your misstep, but you’re finding your place now and within it you may thrive.” 

“You got my place in the ecosystem all figured out?” 

“Here,” he hands her a screamsheet, a magazine with an animated ad for a car, high-end The Legend of Aerondight, “only four in Night City.” 

“That so?” It looks slick, she guesses, though certainly not her aesthetic. Its that weird rich person sort of design where it’s oddly shaped and proportioned, perhaps to be aerodynamic. All sleek silver and black, no character to it. She’d take her Rattler over it any day. 

“First belongs to the Rayfield regional direction, second belongs to mayor Rhyne, third to a rental service. And my client aims to be the fourth.” 

“Klep the car and you’ll help me?” 

“Yes, I have a contact who works inside the parking structure near Embers, a club the current owner likes to frequent. He’s there tonight as well. My contact will cut the security camera feed and open the security gate for you.” 

“Current owner, anyone I need to worry about?” 

“An Arasaka corpo,” Padre informs her, because apparently, she hasn’t fucked with Arasaka enough in the past day or so. 

“So, just hotwire it or?” It wouldn’t be the first time she’s hotwired a car, but fancy ones like this usually have a more complicated security system. Usually takes more than a knife and luck, which is her usual method. 

“Not quite,” Padre pulls a little gadget, a silver and black device that he hands to her, “this should work like a key for the car, matches the ones used by Rayfield tech. Should open the lock and bypass identity authorization.” 

“That sounds convenient…”  Too fucking convenient, she resists adding. 

“Kabuki has some excellent tech workers, but I won’t lie, it is a risk. I assume one you’re willing to take?” 

“Got it, I’ll get the car.” 

“Marcus, pull up here,” Padre tells the driver and they come to a stop, “you can jump down below, and before you go, take this V.” 

He hands her a card, marked with his name and phone number, golden in color with a sword surrounded by roses.  She rubs her thumb over the embossment, glad for her first contact within the city. Connections help. 

“Your number?” She points out the obvious, not sure what else to say. 

“Bring the car back to El Coyote Cujo and call me when you arrive, if all goes well, I’ll have your intel by then. And, I may just call on you for work down the line.” 

“Understood, I’m off then.” 

“Go with God, V.”  

The guardrail drags along the side of the highway but there’s a breakage where it allows her enough space to easily jump over. Peering over it leads to an alley way, a closed dumpster just below. She hops over, dropping down onto the dumpster, she intends on last night being her last trash nap, so she’s more than a little thankful for it being closed. She hears a civilian let out a little exclamation but pays no mind as she jumps down onto the pavement. A quick walk down a graffitied alleway leads her to yellow road signs cutting across an open structure. Glowing vending machines beckon her to spend ennies she doesn’t have on energy drinks and burritos, a turn past them brings her to an elevator. 

Slick glinting silver encompasses her as she steps into the alleyway; impressively clean compared to the absolute grime of the city.  Likely to impress any corpos who come this way to get their cars. A quick tap of a button and the doors shut, elevator rattling as it descends down to the garage. 

A beat of silence and the elevator opens up to a hallway; black, gunmetal gray, and teal accents. The wall declares which sector she’s in and an arrow on the far wall tells her where to turn, as if there were anywhere else to go. The turn around the corner puts her directly in front of two large black double doors; PARKING over them in clear bold lettering. 

They slide open when she gets close and open up to the large parking garage, lights coming on as she sees all the slick fancy corpo cars. Sleek blacks and eye popping reds, none with any taste for design if you ask her. But nomads and corpos have...different aesthetics. 

“Eh, something I can help you with?” A male voice rings out, bringing her attention to the little station next to the blocked off exit for cars. The contact, she presumes. She comes over to his open window, the man dressed in uniform. 

“Padre sent me…” she signs, keeping things vague just in case this person has no idea why she’s here. 

“Gotcha,” he hits a button, “cameras are blind, you got twenty minutes.” 

She nods and goes looking through the cars, it’s the glow of neon that brings her to it. A parking spot marked off in the vivid blue glowing lights, they frame the Rayfield, and spell VIP on the wall behind it. 

Time to test the tech, she holds the device next to the door and presses its button, a blue light flashing. And then the Rayfield’s door opens, sliding back and up in one fluid motion, exposing the deep burgundy leather seats. Shit may actually be going right for once. 

She climbs into the driver’s seat, feeling wholly out of place in the plush designed car. The seat automatically adjusts to accommodate her, no doubt shorter than the owner, and the blacked-out windshield and window turn to crystalline clear glass. All that’s left is bringing the baby back to the bar and then she can get her intel on Sinclaire. 

A red caution symbol flashes in the windshield and her body tenses; a bad feeling creeping in. No, her luck can’t be running out already. 

Then the door opens and there’s a gun in her face. 

“Get the fuck out!” A Mexican accented voice yells out. 

If there is a god, he personally hates her, there is no other explanation, and she will fist fight him for his shenanigans. She looks up at the man standing before her, barrel at her forehead. He’s leaning down against the car, not unlike how the sheriff did to intimidate her back in Yucca. However, unlike the sheriff, this guy has the build to pull it off. He’s easily over a foot taller than her and wider than most doorway, all pure muscle with dark hair in a top knot, gold cybernetics adoring his face. She puts her hands up in mock surrender for a moment. 

“Nothing personal, jaina, just biz.” 

V goes to gun it, to stomp her foot down on the gas, but before she can the man has the back of her hoodie and is unceremoniously ripping her out of the vehicle. 

“You fuckin’ deaf, chica, fuck out of the car, now!” He’s able to manhandle and pack her around like it’s nothing, like carrying a housecat. 

She grabs the hand on her hood and digs her fingernails in, swinging her foot out to kick him while her other hand goes for her gun. 

Then there’s a steady rev of engines, tires squealing and growing ever closer. Confusion coloring her assailant’s face and he drops her, looking around. 

“The fuck…” 

He starts to say and then there’s two police cars rushing into the parking lot, skidding to stops in front of them. And its fucking overkill, if she rang 911 because she was shot, they’d maybe send an officer out in three weeks. One fucking corpo has someone break into his car and it’s the end of the universe, need a full brigade. 

The headlights of the cruises are blindingly bright and she struggles to adjust; putting her hands up as police officers come out with guns at the ready. It’s a car for fucks sake. 

“Don’t move!” 

Her attacker carefully slides his gun across the cement, to show he’s not a threat and maybe she’d consider doing the same if she cared; but she doesn’t. 

“You’re under arrest!” 

“Stay where you are!” 

The police continue barking orders, as if the two hadn’t piece together what was happening or what was being asked of them. They’re not stupid. 

“Hands where I can see them, nice and slow!” 

He can already see them, why must they go through the rigamarole. She doesn’t have time for this shit. 

“On the ground motherfuckers, right now!” 

V is able to watch for a second, as a female cop cuffs and pushes the big guy onto the ground. Then in the next second she’s down there too, but they don’t cuff her like they do him. The officer only holds her hands down to the pavement, maybe they think because she’s smaller they don’t need the cuffs, at least not yet. 

“Jackie Welles, my old pal from the hood,” a voice rings out, “See you haven’t grown an ounce wiser.” 

“Hey,” big guy, apparently Jackie, responds and she shifts her head against the pavement to see him being held down in addition to the cuffs, “argh, Detective Stints, been a while, huh?”

“Inspector Stints,” the man responds now stepping out where he can be seen in front of the bright lights, he picks up the gun Jackie put down. 

“Same shit,” Jackie says with a laugh. 

“But you, you’re new,” Stints comments as he walks over and crouches down in front of her, looking over her face.

He waits, anticipating her to say something, but she talks with her hands and they’re currently pinned behind her back. And sure she possesses the technical ability to speak, her vocal chords do function. But she doesn’t, unless she’s alone or highly emotional. She used to talk to her mom, sister, and Ava…but those days are gone. 

“Spit it out? Cat got your tongue?” Stints taunts and she still remains silent. 

“Think her voicebox might be broken, Stints,” Jackie comments, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Pfft, probably just another piece of Heywood trash, another termite who’ll live and die here. Just like you Welles.” 

“Fuck off, just tell us what you got planned,” Jackie grumbles. 

“Gonna be booked, gonna do a stint, heh, get it?” He says with a grin. 

“C’mon Stints, cut us a break, huh? You lock us up, we’ll just jerk off till trial and then what?”

She has no intention on jerking off anywhere, but alright.

 “Worst case,” Jackie continues, “we get a few months, standing room only nowadays. In el bote. Hell, we’ll probably be out early.” 

“These the thieves? Ordinary street trash,” a heavily accented voice comments, a Japanese man in a shimmery golden colored vest comes walking over. 

“Shit, he’s here,” Inspector Stints groans before standing, “got them in custody Mr. Fujioka. We’ll be taking them, now.” 

“It’s a waste of effort, I have no time to testify or play at an investigation.” 

“Suggesting we let ‘em go, sir?” 

“I’m suggesting you throw them in the sea; cuffed, legs broken, so this trash doesn’t float.” 

And with that the man starts to walk away, making his way back to the club, she’s sure, continuing his night of debauchery as if he hadn’t ordered the murder of two strangers just because he could, because he didn’t have time for a trial. And god, she knows she probably has no room to judge anyone else’s morals, but just fuck corpos. 

“You heard him,” the inspector says, because corpo cash pays his salary, she’s sure. 

“Fuuuuck….” Jackie curses as they start to drag him up on his feet by the cuffed hands and she her own arms are wrenched back and cuffed. 

V gets her feet back under her, moving with the pull as they manhandle her off the ground, she kicks back at the officer behind her. Her foot connects with their calf, causing them grunt out in pain as they’re knocked off balance loosing their grip on her wrists. She jumps as high as she can and brings her cuffed hands under her feet to her front. 

Jackie follows suit, kicking the officer off of him, but with his size it knocks them flat on their ass. He shoulder checks another pig as V makes a dive for the Rayfield, it’s door still open amongst this chaos. She lands herself in the drivers seat and hits the ignition. 

“Stop resisting!” Officers yell, fingers on the trigger, and no, that’s not happening. 

“Wait up, chica!” Jackie yells out and she hits the button to open the passenger side door; he’s an asshole, but she’s not leaving him to be thrown in the fucking ocean. 

He throws himself down in the passenger side and she guns it, doors shutting on each side as she takes the turn out the parking exit. She watches from the corner of her eye as Jackie, who’s barely able to fit in the bougie car, brings his cuffed hands down as low as he can. He grunts and curses, not quite as flexible as she is. With effort and twisting, he’s able to get the chain of the cuffs under his foot and then he stomps down while yanking his hands up. The little chain doesn’t stand a chance, breaking into pieces and pinging about the interior as it does so. 

“Much better,” Jackie comments, looking at his wrists which now just have the manacles of the cuffs. 

She rolls her eyes, bringing her attention back on the road and she expects to see sirens chasing after them, but it never happens. Are the cops not chasing them? They should be chasing them? Is she not getting in her second high speed chase since coming here?

“Honestly,” Jackie starts to talk again, he talks a lot, “I was just gonna let Stints free us, but I like the way you think, this way we get the Rayfield too.” 

“What?” She takes a hand off the wheel to sign. 

“Oh shit, you’re actually….my bad…” He awkwardly apologizes for asking if she was deaf earlier because, yes, yes she is. 

“What do you mean, free us?” 

“Stints is a softie as far as pigs go, got Heywood in his blood, would never throw us in the fuckin’ ocean cause some corpo said. And, you can slow down, he won’t chase us, chica.”

“Oh…okay,” she signs, pulling up to a curb, something else to take care of. 

“We stopping here?” 

“You are,” she signs before pulling her gun out and pointing it at him, signing with her other hand, “get out of the car.” 

“Really, chica?” He rolls his eyes, like he didn’t pull this shit on her five minutes ago. 

“Wouldn’t have let you in if I knew Stints was a softie, I got a job to finish, get out.” 

“A fixer line this up for you?” 

“Yeah…” 

“Padre?” 

“Yeah…are you gonna get out of the car or…?” 

“Listen, I was gonna klep the car and then find a fixer to sell it for me, but if you already got Padre involved, we’ll go halfsies.” 

“You pointed a gun at me!” 

“You’re pointing a gun at me, right now!” 

“You did it first!” 

And he laughs and she does too, because they sound like children bickering over who pushed who on the playground. Its dumb and ridiculous and why does she like him? His smile is warm and kind, something about him, welcoming. She drops the gun, tucking it back in her waistband. She press her hand under her mask, trying to suppress her giggles. The tension that’s been clinging to her has snapped. Her body feels lighter, like she can breathe a bit better. She closes the passenger side door, he may be chill, or she’s just easily charmed. But, she’s still going to fuck with him, just a little. 

“Okay, fine, we’ll go halfsies.” 

“See, now you’re making sense,” he grins as they pull out back onto the road, “Jackie Welles.”  

“V…it’s…nice to meet you? I think?” 

“Heh, not from around here, right?” 

“Nah, but, from the sounds of it you’re a local.” 

“Heywood in my veins, chica,  where we meeting Padre?” 

“El Coyote Cujo.” 

“Of course.” 

“You  know the place?” 

“I’ve heard of it,” he says, grinning wide, a joke she’s clearly not in on, “Ah, I got a good feeling about this.” 

“About what?” 

“Us, you and me got chemistry.” 

“Do we now?” 

“Oh, don’t give me that, you feel it too, heard that laugh.” 

“Sure, whatever you say,” she teases as she pulls into the El Coyote Cujo parking lot, pulling the slick corpo car into a spot, “got a phone on you?” 

“You don’t?” 

“I literally have lost everything I own,  alright? Call Padre and put it on speaker.” 

“Fine, fine,” Jackie gets out his phone and calls Padre, phone in one hand and the other stretched across the back of the seats. 

“Jackie? To what do I owe the pleasure.” 

“Here with your newest find, V, we got the Rayfield.” 

“You helped her out?” 

“Well…” 

“He pointed a gun at me and nearly had me thrown in the ocean.” 

“Seems like I have a car and a story waiting on me, I’ll be there shortly.” 

A pain aches in V’s head, migraine spreading across her temple as Jackie hangs up. She rolls the car window down, allowing the chill of the winter night seep in, hoping the fresh air will ease her pain.  V wants a shower, there’s still blood in her hair and she’s sure she still smells like trash. Though, no one’s been cruel enough to point it out. But, she has no idea where she could grab a shower. Why the fuck does her head hurt so much? The pain a steady throb across her entire head. She pinches the bridge of her nose, it didn’t even ache this much when she first came too in the dumpster. 

“You alright V?” 

“Head hurts,” she signs, before turning off her hearing aids, hoping that shutting out the city sounds will help. 

“When’s the last time you ate, chica?” Jackie says, making sure to stay in her eye line as he leans over the middle console, though his biceps nearly touch her even when he isn’t.  Her mask reading his lips to give him subtitles. . 

When was the last time she ate? She didn’t eat all day because she was in a dumpster passed out. The day before was the smuggle run and she didn’t eat before she left Yucca.

“Two days ago.” 

“Fuckin’ for real, no wonder your head’s wonky, once we finish the deal we’ll get some grub.” 

“What made you think that was why?” 

“Ah, my mama gets those migraines when she stops eating from stress, Vik and me keep telling her to take care of herself, but she’s too busy taking care of everyone else.” 

“You and your mom close?” V can’t help but ask, thinking about her own mother for a moment. 

“Oh yeah, family’s important, gotta have people you can turn to out here.” 

“Yeah…” 

“What-”

Headlights shine in through the back glass of the Rayfield, bring their attention to Padre pulling into the parking lot.  His arrival ending whatever question Jackie was about to ask, which may be for the best. She’s not ready to answer questions about family. Not when her head is throbbing, she’s filthy, and her stomach is empty. Padre’s driver comes to a stop and they see Padre gets out of the back. V turns her hearing aids back on, knowing it will make the conversation flow easier as her and Jackie get out of the Rayfield. Her arms collecting goosebumps from the air. 

“Jackie, it’s nice to see you again, how have you been?” He greets Jackie warmly

“Ehhh, can’t complain, same old same old, making new friends,” he says with a grin, nodding his head towards V.

“Never can have too many of those. It’s always nice to chat once business is done.” 

One of Padre’s bodyguards has already climbed into the driver’s seat of the Rayfield. Enging revving up and then fading off into the night as he leaves. Officially finishing up their business. 

“Uh,” Jackie raises an eyebrow, “you getting senile on me, Padre, this is usually the part where eddies change hands.” 

V’s smirking and trying not to laugh behind her mask. Padre gives a look at V’s direction and she looks down at the ground, pursing her lips so she doesn’t laugh. 

“I’m afraid I’m not quite sure what you mean.” 

“Ah,” Jackie nods, like he gets it, “no worries, V agreed to go halfsie with me on the Rayfield gig.” 

“Halfsies?” Padre raises an eyebrow, smiling at V, he seems to find her joke at least a little funny. V can’t help the giggle that spills out.

“Am I missing the joke here?” 

“Well, I’m afraid, this was an unpaid job for V here.” 

“What?” Jackie shoots her a sharp look, disbelief coloring his expression. 

“Don’t spend it all in one place,” she taunts. 

“Fuck you!” 

She bursts out laughing, holding her stomach as she cackles behind her mask, the sound echoing strangely through it. But, she can’t stop. 

“You stole a million eddie car for free!? The fuck is wrong with you!?” 

“No, no,” she furiously signs, “I needed info.” 

“Speaking of which, I have your intel here,” Padre says, handing her a shard.

“Give me a moment, my lungs hurt.” 

“I’m glad you're entertained, that info better make you a billionaire.” 

“Nah, personal shit,” she collects herself, “thanks, Padre, it means a lot.” 

“You’re a good kid, make him pay, V.”

“Oh, I will,” V confirms, slotting the shard into a little opening on her mask, info displaying across it. 

The name of a chopshop that rumors say had a nomad vehicle come in, her Rattler no doubt. Sinclaire’s address and regular hang outs, exactly what she needs. Hopefully, he hasn’t had time to sell the cargo yet. If so, she’ll axe him and klep all his shit. 

“What happened?” Jackie asks. 

“Well,” she signs, before taking the shard out, “Sinclaire contracted me to transport some cargo, no fixer, so he fucked me over the second he got a chance. Bashed me over the head, threw me in a dumpster, scrapped all my shit, and took off with the cargo.” 

“So, that’s what that smell is?” 

“I will throw you,” she threatens, but she’s rolling her eyes and smiling. 

“I’d love to see you try, chica.” 

“The chop shop won’t be open until morning and it’s late. It’s up to you, but I’d recommend resting for the night.” 

“Yeah…” She signs, but she can’t help the slight pout. She has no money, no clothes, no food, no shelter. She’ll be sleeping on a bench or something tonight, not much rest. 

“You did good work V,” Padre pats her shoulder as he leaves,” I’m sure I’ll have more jobs for you in the future, paying ones, of course.” 

“Thanks again, Padre.”  

She rubs a hand down her face, migraine still thumping around in her head. Between not eating and having her hearing aids in all day, her head feels on the verge of exploding. 

“So, what’s the plan, jaina?” 

“My plan, why do you wanna know my plan?” 

“Because, you and I both know you’re up shit creek without a paddle here, V. No home, no family, no one to turn to. Night City ain’t a place that will let you get by on your own. Need people you can turn to, if you wanna survive.” 

“And what, you wanna be my friend?” She raises an eyebrow, taken aback by just how kind and friendly he’s really been. 

“Told you already, we got chemistry,” he grins again and it makes her smile, “be a crying shame to waste it.” 

“Okay, friend, what do we do now?” 

“You like chili?

“As a concept, sure.”  

“Settled then, get you a hot meal, change of clothes, a shower ‘cause you fuckin’ need it, and crash with me tonight.”

“And tomorrow?” 

“And tomorrow, we teach that pendejo a lesson, sound good?”  

“Sounds good to me.”

They’re all grins and smiles as they leave the parking lot, knocking shoulders together as they go, walking side by side down the neon lit streets. And she can feel it returning, that little buzz of hope she had in her chest when she first came here, the one she thought was beaten out of her by Sinclaire’s goons, it’s back and brighter than ever. Though not half as bright as Jackie’s smile as they turn a corner towards his mother’s house. 

[noiseproblemsonline]

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[pbandjesse]

I just got so super tired in the last hour. I don't even know why! But it was an excellent day overall. I felt a lot better. I mean I am still stressed but like. I think that stealed me up for this morning.

I slept. Fine. Getting to sleep was terrible. I cried a lot. I was just so tired but also so upset. I eventually fell asleep. And woke up every couple hours because I was anxious.

I woke up and got dressed and felt very powerful. My outfit was just so good and also my boots were great. Made me feel strong. And very quickly we were off and on the road to the dealership.

On the ride there I quickly got an estimate for our car for a trade in value. I wanted a number in my pocket. I texted with dad. It made me feel a little better to have him hear what the plan was.

And then we were there. Ryan, the dealer, was very nice. He said to take a drive while they got paperwork set up. And it was fun. Also terrifying. My blind spot in this car is very different then the old car. I almost merged into someone! WIth only 7 miles on the whole car! I was a little shaken up so me and James switched and they drove for a while. We did some just driving and checking out about the car. It was fun.

We got back to the dealership and that's when the stupid game starts. I don't understand why cars are sold like this. It almost feels like if it was written in a story it would feel fake. First thing we talked about the trade in. The Camery is 10 years old. Is covered in scratches. Has a dent in the side. Has a torn seat. A wear thing on the dashboard. The ceiling fabric is thumb tacked up. The breaks screach and it thumps when you break. So they offered us $.1500. But I have the estimate number in my pocket. And so with that I was able to get them to give us $3000 instead. And then the interest rate we were able to get down almost a whole percent.

And then!! After we signed everything we went to finalize it with the financial guy and we were able to get a few more extras for discounted. I was super proud of us. There was one issue of me not knowing where the title was. I am sure we will find it here. Just wasn't something I was aware of, I thought the registration and the title were the same sheet but it is apparently a blue sheet somewhere. I think I know what he is talking about but honestly. Not sure. They just ordered a new one. It was like $20. So its all good.

We went outside to take our last things from the Camery and put them in the Crosstreck. A few people were complimenting the car. Felt neat. Ryan took our picture with my instax. Got a kick out of that. We chatted for a few more minutes and then we had our new car. Felt so weird.

We left there and went right to target to get a few groceries and things for camping next week. I called dad and we talked. It was good to hear him. He sounded a little weak but it made me feel a lot more secure. I love him. I don't want him to be hurting.

Once we were off the phone me and James just worked on getting thing things we needed. Including new pillows. But mostly camp foods.

We got pretty much everything. But we would have to stop at our local grocery store as well when we couldn't find a couple things. Ah well.

Between those two stops we got lunch at a diner. The food was excellent and the waitress was really nice. But we both lost a lot of energy. All the adrenilin from the morning was gone. And we were both very tired.

We would go downtown and James would run in the post office to get us postcard stamps so we could get the first batch of engagement cards in the mail. We would go to the grocery store. And then it was home.

We unpacked everything. James put things away. I would work on figuring out what we should keep in the car. We kept to much stuff in there before. I found a cargo net that dad must have had in the camery. So I went to install that. And put our air compressor and some bungee cords and jumper cables and a picnic blanket and some grocery bags. And then I put some stickers on the brand new baby car because I cannot be stopped or tamed.

I would work on some packing for camping after that. James helped me bring everything down and I would reorganize everything so we wouldn't have to worry. I am pretty pleased. I love packing.

I would do a little styling. And working on gathering addresses. James was making us indian food. And once it was done the flavors were great even if the chick peas were a little to hard still. The naan was great.

And then we were making the cards. We had a great system. James printed all the addresses and names on a business card template. So we could just cut them out and tape them on. I would put the stamps on, James would cut tape, I would attach the addresses. It was an excellent system. We have way to many cards but whatever. I am really excited about them regardless. We will just use whatever left over for something else. Save the dates maybe? Just would need to print something new for the back. Or we will just have to many and know better for next time.

I took a bath while James went for a bike ride. And then we would play video games for a little bit. But I was having trouble even keeping my eyes open. So now I am going to go get ready to go to sleep. I hope tomorrow is a beautiful day.

Sleep well everyone. Goodnight!!

[bumblebee-moreno]

Frozen

Part Three of the Weather Series

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6

Summary You and Din land in some bad weather and get stuck.

Pairing: Din Djarin x gender neutral! reader

Word Count: 876

Warnings: VERY mild swearing

A/N: Pedro Pascal requests are open! Get added to my taglists!

This was a stupid idea. You had told him so, many times over again. Din had chosen this planet to land on for rest, and you had told him there’s probably a very good reason no one comes here. But did he listen? No. And per usual, you were right.

The planet froze over that night. And the razor crest froze with it. And even if the ship wasn’t frozen to the ground, there’s far too much snow and wind outside to fly.

You’re stressed. Din is stressed. The Child is nervous.

So while Din fixes the heater, which conveniently broke a few days ago, you sit at the table and colour with the child.

“Shit,” Din mutters, just loud enough for you to hear.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, not bothering to look up from your paper.

“Compressor needs to be replaced,” Din complains. “But maybe I can—”

“Oh, C’mon Din,” You interrupt. “Give it a rest. We have plenty of blankets.”

Din doesn’t respond. You don’t hear a single sound from him for a few minutes, until a loud clatter, followed by cursing.

Din continues inspecting and repairing components of the heater. He has to stay busy somehow. Because if he lets his mind wander… Din can’t help but think about you, even as a drip of grease splatters onto his shoulder. He can’t see your face right now, but he knows you’re smiling. He can hear your soft giggles as you interact with the child.

He can’t help but imagine you helping him fix the ship, your hands brushing against his when you trade off tools. He listens to your voice telling the child how good his drawing is.

And then he scolds himself. He can’t think about you like this.

You pick a crayon up off the floor. You spare a glance at Din, squished under the heater, attempting to provide just a bit of warmth. You furrow your brows a bit. He’s getting more distant. You’d hoped that with time, he’d open up more to you. But he’s getting more and more closed off.

He barely talks to you, even compared to what he was at first. You’ve noticed him staring from afar. Glaring at you, most likely. Maybe he’s jealous that you have such a good bond with the child. But if he weren’t so distant all the time, he might be closer to the kid too.

Din slides out from under the heater to find a tool.

You lean over, and pull tubes of finger-paint out of your bag. “Din,” you speak up hesitantly. “Come sit with us while we paint?”

Din doesn’t respond. He just rummages through his supplies. The child climbs down from his stool, clutching a paper in his tiny fist. He approaches Din quietly, reaching up to hand the paper to him. Din accepts the crinkled paper, inspecting the drawing. He stares at it for a moment. “Is this us?”

Is that a hint of emotion you hear in his voice?

The child doesn’t respond. He raises his arms in a request to be picked up. Din sighs, picking him up and placing him back on his stool before storing the drawing in a pocket for safekeeping.

Din collapses into a chair. “Five minutes,” he grumbles.

You help the child get started on his paper, wondering what made the Mandalorian so angry with you. Was it something you said? Did you forget something important? You hate not knowing.

You look up at the child, who already has a small red smudge of paint across his nose. It gives you an idea. You take a little bit of purple paint on your finger. And you paint a small heart on the cheek of Din’s helmet.

“What’re you doing?” Din snaps, leaning away from you.

“Don’t worry,” You laugh. Din’s heart skips a beat. “It’ll wash right off.”

Din lets himself relax a bit. If it makes you happy, what will it hurt?

You lift the child onto the table to he can reach as well, telling him, “Only on his helmet, okay?”

Din sits as still as he can while you and the child paint his helmet.

You’re so close. If it weren’t for the helmet, he could probably smell you.

Your mind starts to wander as you paint shapes onto the cold beskar. And you begin to wonder.

About Din.

About the softness of his skin.

The shape of his nose.

How it would feel to trace his jaw with your fingertips.

About the taste of his lips.

You smile to yourself. Of course you had to fall for the one person you could never have. Of course you get feelings for the one person who would never have them for you.

Din clenches his jaw. He can’t take this anymore. He needs you to know. ‘you can do this,’ he tells himself. ‘just say it.’Din swallows hard. ‘It’s three words. It’s not that hard.’

His mouth is dry. His hands start to shake. But you have to know.

And he says it. Out loud. Quickly, and shakily. But he did it. And in that exact moment, the heater roars to life, drowning out his words before you can hear him.

“I love you.”

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