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fanaroff · 2 days ago

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Above the Nasty Burger Ch. 6

Ao3 Link Here << Previous Ch. Next Ch. >>

Danny’s breath caught in a sharp, panicked gasp, his heart hammering against his ribs. His hairs stood on end and the room seemed to tilt, spinning with the sudden weight of what he saw. His core burned, a searing ache that ripped through him, and his pupils shrank to pinpricks as he fought to focus. That was a ghost core. A ghost’s life-their very essence-held in his father’s hand like it was nothing.

It pulsed at him, its cry silent yet deafening, calling to him with an urgency that tore at his soul. He felt it. The agony. Ancients, whoever this was, they were still awake in there. Still aware. What had his parents done?

His instincts screamed, sharp and raw, demanding he take it, protect it, shield the being inside. He had to fight the immediate impulse to change forms, yank the core from his father's hand, and retreat to the Ghost Zone. He could feel his ghost form writhing beneath his skin.

He had to keep his control. Had to keep himself in check. He fought it—he had to fight it. This was no longer his home. It was now a danger zone far more than before. He had to control this. He had to tread carefully or risk losing everything.

"Those Guys in White contracted us right through the government, Jazzy-pants!" Jack's voice boomed with excitement, oblivious to the shift in the air. "They want us to use a ghost core to power weapons! Can you imagine the potential? Using ghosts to fight ghosts!? Only thing is, they didn't have any they could give us so we had to go out and get one ourselves. So! Your mother and I went and caught ourselves a spook!"

Danny felt dizzy.

They caught someone and reduced them to their core.

His legs gave way slightly, but Jazz was there, gripping his arm tightly with one hand while the other held her shirt collar over her nose. Of course, she noticed. She had to know the weight of what Jack was holding, just as Danny did. There was nothing between them now. Nothing to hide the trembling of his body or the horror in his eyes. The effect it had on him was clear. He felt her attempt to ground him, her fingers tightening around his arm, a quiet plea for him to hold it together. How could his parents be so oblivious to what they had?

Or worse; they knew and didn't care.

Smoke still billowed out of the lab, thick and acrid, curling into the air like a noxious reminder of just how badly things had gone. The fumes would burn the humans' lungs if they stayed in this room too long. Danny could already feel the stinging in the back of his throat, but his focus was elsewhere. His thoughts of protection elsewhere. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the core in Jack’s hands. His mind raced, thoughts a blur of frantic calculations.

How could he get the core away from Jack?

How could he protect them without putting them both into further danger? He would do anything to rip them away and protect them in the cradle of his own hands, but he no longer had the luxury of being able to throw himself into danger headfirst, recklessly and unknowingly. The easiest thing would be to phase the core out of Jack's grasp, but Danny knew the moment he made a move, the game would be up. His parents would never let him leave with it. Not if they thought they could use the core for their ‘research.’ Not if they thought they could use him for their research. Danny’s stomach twisted. This wasn’t just about keeping his secret anymore. This was about a life-someone’s life-suffering because his parents didn’t see the value in it. He now knew for sure. They’d never understand.

He needed to protect this ghost. He had to get their core out of his parents' uncaring grasp.

But first-

"How?" Danny spoke through gritted teeth, body tense. "How did you get a ghost's core?"

Now hyperaware, Danny could feel Maddie’s gaze shift toward him. "It was almost too easy," Jack boasted with his chest puffed out, clearly please with their success. "We found one with its guard down after a couple of hours of looking! We didn't even have to track it! Didn't even put up much of a fight until after we already got it with the Fenton Grappler!" Maddie’s gaze drifted to Jazz’s hand still gripping Danny’s arm.

"It wasn't like other ghosts we tried to catch," their mother turned her attention back to Jack. She patted his arm. "It didn't immediately fly away or try to fight us. I think it actually tried to talk to us. We didn't listen of course, all they have to say are manipulations and lies. It didn't fight until Jack got out our Fenton Thermos." "And it went for flames!" Jack cut in. "I wanted to make a Fenton Flamethrower out of it! But...uh..." He looked sheepishly back at the door to the lab. "It was a lot stronger than anticipated."

Flames. The words hit Danny like a slap. There was only one ghost on this side of the portal that he knew used flames. His mouth went dry. He wanted to shout, to demand answers, but Jazz beat him to it.

"Where?" she asked, her voice sharp. "Where did you catch the ghost?"

Their parents exchanged a glance. "Above that place you kids seem to like to eat at so much. The Nasty Burger."

Ember.

They had Ember.

That was Ember's core in Jack's hand.

When had they caught her? When had they done this? How had he not known? It had only been a few days since he’d last seen her. Their meetings weren’t always guaranteed, but they always left time for each other- hovering just above their usual spot, waiting to see if the other would show. And yet, he’d heard nothing. No whispers of a ghost being captured. No warning. Nothing.

To hell with it.

Danny bared his teeth as fury coiled tight in his chest, searing through him like a white-hot flame. His core ached with it, pulsing in sync with the desperate cry echoing from the one trapped in Jack’s grasp. “Give her to me,” he snarled, his voice low, edged with something sharp and dangerous. He thrust out a hand, his glare locking onto his parents. “Give her to me. Right now.”

His parents- no, not his parents. Not if they could do something this cruel, this inhuman. Jack and Maddie. That’s all they were in this moment. And they recoiled. As if his anger had startled them, as if they had the right to be surprised. Jack’s face twisted in confusion, but Maddie—Maddie’s expression turned calculating, her gaze flicking over him, assessing. He hadn’t even realized it before, but he’d been right to call her Maddie.

Before he could snap, Jazz’s fingers dug into his arm in warning. “Danny,” she murmured, voice urgent. “Calm down.”

Calm down? Calm down? How could he be calm when Ember’s core pulsed in his father’s hand, a plea that sank its claws into his very being? How could he be calm when her agony bled into him, a raw and unbearable reminder of the torment she was trapped in?

Maddie’s eyes narrowed, sharp with suspicion. “You knew this ghost,” she accused, her voice turning cold. “Didn’t you?” Her gaze bore into him, calculating, searching, as if piecing together a puzzle she should have seen long ago. “Something’s been off for a while now. And I think…” Her voice dropped lower, ice creeping into every syllable. “I think I’ve figured it out.”

Then like a blade to the gut-

"You're not my son, are you?"

Jack gaped in surprise at his wife and Danny should have felt sick. Should have been drowning in dread, choking on the weight of those words. But there was no room for that now, not when fury still burned through his veins, not when Ember’s agony pulsed through his core like a dying heartbeat. How could they even call themselves human after what they had done?

It was time to step up to his duties. This could not continue any longer.

Jazz let out a sharp, nervous laugh and stepped out in front of Danny as if she could physically shield him from their mother's scrutiny. "Mom, come on, listen to yourself," her voice light, but edged with urgency. "That's insane. Of course he's your son! He's just freaked out because- because I'm freaked out! You're talking about using a ghost's core for a weapon- how did you expect us to react? You're the ones that told us those things are the brains of ghosts!"

She tightened her grip on Danny's arm, a silent plea for him to keep his cool.

Danny wrenched his arm free from Jazz’s grip and stepped forward, his glare burning with barely contained fury. “No,” he said, voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. “After this? After what you’ve done? I wouldn’t want to be your son.” He clenched his fists at his sides, trembling with rage. “This is sick. You’re holding someone’s life in your hands, and you don’t even care. Give. Her. To. Me."

No one moved for a long moment, a calculating stand-off. Then Maddie's eyes darkened and her expression twisted into something unreadable. In one swift motion, she reached for her utility belt and leveled a blaster at his head.

"You're not Danny."

Danny stared down the barrel.

Jack hesitated before reaching out, his large hand gently wrapping around Maddie’s wrist. “Mads,” he said carefully, his voice edged with uncertainty. “What are you talking about?”

Maddie didn’t budge. Her grip on the blaster remained firm, her knuckles white. Her gaze stayed locked onto Danny. “I’ve had my suspicions for a while,” she said through gritted teeth. “Little things that didn’t add up. But I had no proof. Not until this thing-” she gave a sharp nod toward Danny, her voice laced with fury and something dangerously close to certainty-“slipped up this morning and called me Maddie.”

Danny barely registered the way Jazz sucked in a sharp breath beside him. His own blood roared in his ears, drowning out everything but the sheer weight of Maddie’s words. This thing.

Not Danny. Not her son.

His chest ached, but it wasn’t enough to smother the fury burning through him. His core thrummed, rattling against his ribs, and Ember’s core pulsed in turn, still pleading, still suffering. He clenched his fists. “You don’t even hear yourself, do you?” His voice was low, shaking with restrained rage. “You’ve done something unforgivable, and you still think I’m the monster here?” Jack’s gaze snapped to him, face hardening as he gripped the ghost core tighter. A flicker of suspicion crossed his expression. Danny could feel the pressure building, the tension in the room like a spring about to snap. The distant sound of sirens began and grew louder, signaling that someone had finally called 911. The smoke from the lab had found its way out, drifting into the streets and raising alarms. Danny’s eyes darted toward the window, but he didn’t have time to worry about that now.

Maddie’s voice cut through the air, ice-cold. “Jazz, step away from the ghost. Now. I want to know what’s been masquerading as my son. And it's going to tell us where the real Danny is."

Danny's jaw clenched and he stepped forward, meeting Maddie's gaze head-on.

"I've been your son all along. I've been Danny all along," he said, voice raw. "I've agonized every single day, wanting to tell you everything. But I knew- I knew you would never listen. You never did about anything else. Do you know who turned the portal on? That was me. I was the one who turned it on because my parents were too stupid to put the switch on the outside and I tripped right into it. Inside. The. Portal. That's when I died. I didn't stay dead, but I died. Thousands of volts of electricity and ectoplasm ripped me apart and put me right back together. Do you understand how that would have felt?

Just days after I died, I fought the ghosts that came through the portal. I thought it was my duty since I was the one who turned the portal on. You wanted to know why my grades dropped? Why I started avoiding you? Well now you know! Now you know I'm not human anymore. Not you know I'm part ghost. I'm something else, something you'll never get to understand. And now? It's my duty to protect the one you've committed the worst taboo on. I wanted to tell you for so long, but you always talked about 'ripping ghosts apart molecule by molecule.' And I see now you'd hold yourself to that."

The silence, save for the sirens getting closer, was suffocating. Jack stood frozen, his hand gripping Ember's core so tightly his knuckles were white. He looked at Danny with something unsettling- suspicion, disbelief, and a flicker of something like guilt. But that quickly vanished. Maddie's face was pale, but her gaze stayed cold and calculating. Almost... hollow. Like she was seeing him, but not really seeing him at all. Her fingers twitched, the blaster still pointed at Danny.

Danny’s chest tightened, a bitter knot of betrayal sinking deeper with each passing moment. How had it come to this? His parents, the people who were supposed to love and protect him, had stripped that away in an instant. All their work, all their obsession, had led them to this—treating a life like it was nothing more than a tool to be discarded. He had tried to hold onto whatever shred of normalcy he had left, but now? There was no doubt he would be seen as something to be eradicated.

"You only see ghosts as something to destroy," Danny's voice cracked and the words barely escaped through the emotions that tried to strangle him. Harsh lights began to scatter across his skin. "I've known for so long, but I didn't want to believe it. I tried so hard not to. To keep some normalcy. To hold onto you for as long as I could." He dug his nails into his palms, fury rising higher. "I should've known better. And now you've gone and done one of the worst things possible." His voice dropped low. "It's my responsibility now." In an instant, the air around him crackled with raw energy and a ring of light snapping into place around his form. His body shifted, spine straightening, and a palpable force seemed to settle in his very bones. Before them stood Phantom, his eyes burning with an inferno, green and unrelenting. The transformation was complete, and the soft, ethereal quality of his form made it clear that this wasn’t just any ghost.

"I am Danny," he said, his voice now deep and thick with unyielding command. "I am Phantom." His words echoed in the room like a thunderclap and for a moment time seemed to stand still. "I am the Prince of the Infinite Realms and you-" he paused, eyes narrowing as he took in the show and dawning comprehension on the ghost hunters' faces. "You have committed a taboo on my people."

Maddie’s face twisted from disbelief to pure, seething anger. Her lips parted in a shout of rage and she pulled the trigger of the ghost blaster. "Give me back my son!"

Danny heard Jazz yelp in surprise as a blast whizzed past his ear. It barely fazed him-he didn't need to move much to dodge it. With a fluid motion, he shot upwards and evaded another shot. His eyes locked onto Ember's core, a beacon of desperation calling to him, and he lunged for her. Jack's face shifted to realization but he was too slow to react in his fumbling for his own gun. Danny was faster. Still dodging shots from Maddie, Danny twisted his legs into a ghost tail. In one seamless motion, he turned his hands intangible and slipped through Jack's grasp to snatch up Ember's core. She pulsed fiercely in his hands, her cry now answered.

He turned in his flight and his green eyes met her wide blue ones. Danny could no longer afford to stay. He sent her an apologetic glance before turning his fury back to the ghost hunters. His hand flared with green energy and struck out his own blast, sending the gun in Maddie's hand flying from her grasp to crash onto the floor.

The sound of firetruck sirens grew much louder, sounding right outside of Fentonworks.

Don't make this mistake again." Danny's voice was sharp, though he knew it was probably too much to hope they'd never touch another core. The pounding at the front door grew louder, followed by shouting. "You will come to justice for what you've done." Without waiting for a response, Danny quickly phased through the floor just as the front door burst open and firefighters rushed in.

The air in the basement was thick with green fire, scorching everything in its path. An abandoned experimental blaster lay nearby, a hole burned clean through it-no doubt where Ember's core had been inserted and backfired when used. Danny hovered over the wreckage, trying not to let his gaze linger on the table at the center of the room, coated in ectoplasm with a tray of surgical instruments beside it. He closed his eyes, pushing the horrors from his mind, and held Ember’s core close to his chest. "I'm so sorry for not getting here sooner," he whispered hoarsely. His eyes drifted to the portal. The doors were shut, no doubt to keep Ember from escaping when they released her from the thermos. This would work in his favor. There was a scattering of curses and footsteps that came from above, Jack and Maddie no doubt trying to make their way down to the basement again past the firefighters. His face hardened at the thought and he ducked down to grab the weapon they tried to use Ember with. He would need to study it to know what he will be working against in the future.

Danny approached the closed portal, his gaze fixed on the control panel. Without hesitation, he aimed his hand and unleashed a blast of green fire. The panel sparked and exploded in a burst of smoke and crackling electricity, the damage enough to prevent them from opening the doors again-at least for a little while. With a heavy heart, he turned back to the portal doors, swiped a hand through the air, and summoned his own portal. It swirled into existence and, without a second glance, Danny stepped through.

It was time to take responsibility. It was time to leave humanity behind. << Previous Ch. Next Ch. >>

#danny phantom #danny phantom fanfic #danny phantom fic #ghost king danny #jack and maddie fenton #danny fenton #jazz fenton #eldritch danny

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felony-bunny · 2 years ago

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Malleus x non-gendered reader

Scenario: Malleus doesn’t understand how mc doesn’t fear him. He doesn’t know if they’re brave, dumb, or not afraid of death. Spoiler they’re all of the above.

Btw I’m on chapter 6 and have no clue what happens in the next chapter.

LETs GET INTO THIS MOFO

(I wrote this all forever ago but I thought that I could add more to make it better but I was wrong. For some reason this was so fucking difficult. This isn’t the first time I’ve done a oneshot too. I literally do not think that I could write anymore twst oneshots because of how bad this came out. I’m literally so sorry. You can read if you want but I hate this so so much. And also sorry for the wait.)

Most people feared Malleus’s strength. That’s what he was used too. He usually didn’t focus on people enough to care but you were different. He could understand how you weren’t scared before you know how he was but even after you found out you still called him by that silly nickname and acted the same towards him. Every once and awhile he tries to think of a reason for this.

1.) You are actually really stupid

2.) You’re some sort of narcissist and think you two are on the same level

3.) You have short term memory loss

4.) You’re stupidly brave

5.) You do not fear death

He crossed out 2 and 3 after hanging around you for a bit. But even after all the times you two have hung out he still hasn’t been able to understand how you work. One day his curiosity took over and he asked you outright.

“Child of Man?”

“Yea yea?” You absent mindedly replied as you balanced on some old bricks.

“Why don’t you seem to fear me? You have many reasons to be.”

Well standing on one wobbly brick you looked up at him “Why should I? It’s not like you’ve hurt or threatened me.”

Do you not realize how much of a threat he can be?

“Still…“

“Still what? Listen I get you’re pretty overpowered, like everyone wastes money on pulls for you in Gacha games kind of overpowered.”

Huh?

“But you’ve been nice to me and that’s all I really need to trust you.”

He didn’t like the next words that came out of his mouth but he needed to know

“Child of man, I could easily kill you. Do you know how much of a danger I could be to you if I chose to?”

You both stand there for a minute.

Did he mess up?

Did he bring up something you haven’t thought of and now you were scared?

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I mean if you ever did kill me it would suck but whatever.” You look down at the brick wobbling.

Did you just say whatever at the possibility of being fatally injured?

“Why don’t you value your own life?”

“Is that really a question? What about my life actually has value? I mean it’s not guaranteed that I’ll go back home or that I’ll be able to start a new life here and if I do go back let’s say three years later I’d have to go back to school and waste a shit load of time and money on it. Honestly there are millions of things that could go wrong. It’s pretty difficult just existing here and not knowing what’s going on at home but whatever.” You jump off the brick and continue walking “At the end I just have to believe that things will string together and I don’t have to worry.” You spin around to face him and smile.

You say the weirdest things but still enchant him every time. Your a brave idiot who doesn’t care about how badly things could end and just put it up to luck, but that made him love you.

He smiled “I see. My apologies that was a foolish question on my part.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst incorrect quotes #twst #twst wonderland #twst headcanons #twst mc #twst yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twst malleus #twisted wonderland malleus

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l1av · 5 months ago

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New Yorker Gavin/Cat Burglar Nines Snippet!

(more under the cut!)

Gavin walks into the MOMA. Connor fielded the call first. They’d had just enough time to get coffee and some new safe-for-androids thirifee—what a fucking stupid name—for Connor when the call came in. The excitement when Connor’s eyes rounded—Gavin didn’t even need Connor to say a damn thing. Do you burn as I do?

Gavin walks into the large oblong room, coffee still in hand. He looks about the other paintings left behind. Picasso with his cubism and biting edges. The vivid coloration. The simplicity of human anatomy. Of life and existence. All brought into something blended between surreal and simple. It makes Gavin’s head spin. He’s never been one for art-art—but maybe Nines is into it. Nines did sleepily admit he likes to paint last night. Gavin thinks of that—Nines with a paint brush. A little schmear of color at his face where he’d accidently wiped at it. Turning and waiting for Gavin to let him know if he’s done a good job.

But the beautiful dream is sucked away when Gavin sees the thank you card with the black little kitten on its cover. His heart speeds up. Fingers trembling as he puts on gloves before removing the tape from its edges. The breath he lets out… His whole body a cascade of pins and needles. That perfect CyberLife Sans font.

Hello Detective. Do you remember when we first met? I in a condo high atop New York City. You with excited shaky fingers, tightly gripping a gun. It was the moment I learned of your passion for me. I saw your eyes. Do those eyes still hunger for my face? Know that I see you, as naked as the women I stole.

“What art got stolen?” Gavin asks Connor as he looks down at the card. He holds it in both of his hands, fingertips just barely cradling it. Like it would burn up and fade away to ash if he’s too rough with it.

Connor lets him know of the two art pieces. The card makes more sense now. Or rather—Gavin understands that the pieces were just naked women and the burglar is taunting him about seeing him naked too. But is it literal? Or a term of art?

“He’s fuckin’ with me,” Gavin says. The heat in the pit of Gavin’s belly though—that’s something he doesn’t know what to do with. He wants to play too. “Know that I see you, as naked as the women I stole.”

“He’s trying to scare you, obviously.” Connor sounds almost annoyed that he even needs to say it. “This is all a game to him. He knows your name from the press release. He’s trying to act like he knows you. It’s just a game.”

“I know it’s a game, Connor,” Gavin bites back. He still looks down at that perfect font—transfixed. Feeling some kind of way about how badly he wants to play too. “When criminals get cocky—they start makin’ mistakes, kay? So we’re gonna let him make his mistakes and then we’ll catch the bastard.”

“He’s still a highly efficient android. There’s no way he could be a PL600 or any of the other domestic models. I’d even have trouble believing he were any escort model either.”

Gavin frowns. “Isn’t that kind of descriptor—racist?”

“I’m an android.”

“So?”

Connor rolls his eyes. “He’s gotta be military. Some kind of specialist. Maybe a custom model. With CyberLife holding all our patents ransom right now—there’s no legal stream for mods—but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Could be something off the black market. Maybe we look into that. See whose been getting any upgrades recently?”

Gavin frowns. “Wait—what do you mean there’s no legal stream for mods?”

“I don’t know how I can make that sentence clearer, Detective.” Connor only blinks at him.

Gavin thinks about Nines and his fully modified digestive system. If there’s no legal stream for such a thing—then how did he get it? “Does Nines know something about the black market?”

Connor’s eyes widen. “His digestive system modifications!”

Gavin—doesn’t like this. Involving his—maybe boyfriend? But knowing what’s out on the market may help them narrow down the model of the android. Anything’s a clue. Gavin will search the rest of the room. Talk to the poor guard who got knocked the fuck out with some kind of tranquilizer, and then he’ll just causally bring this up over dinner tonight or something awful.

“Hey Connor—wanna come over and have dinner at my place? Or I mean—sit there and look entirely too uncomfortable at my place so we can talk to Nines about this shit?”

Connor rolls his eyes. “I’ll bring some thirium. You ass.”

Gavin winks at him—little click of his tongue as he does it. “You hate that I’m dating your brother, don’t you?” Gavin follows Connor out of the long display room.

“It’s—certainly not what I expected after my understanding was that he rejected you. But then I saw him ask you out so.”

“See! That’s what I fuckin’ said to him too! He keeps sayin’ I’m the one who asked him out a third time!” Elation balloons in Gavin’s sternum. He wants to text Nines right now and say something stupid like na-na-na-na-boo-boo-I-told-you-so! But he’ll refrain, as he’s a thirty-six-year-old grown ass adult.

“We need to transfer that note for the chain of possession,” Connor says—bringing them back to work instead of the weirdest circumstance Gavin’s ever found himself in. He’s dating Connor’s brother. Connor’s brother. Fucking weird shit, man.

Gavin nods, pressing his tongue to the inside of his mouth. He feels he should be more—upset about this whole thing. But he’s relaxed. His fingers void of tremors. His heart perfectly content in his chest. There’s a burglar out there taunting Gavin and the only thing he can really think is good, when will you do more?

#reed900 #dbh gavin reed #nines rk900 #i can't wait to post this fic its over 50k so far ahhhh #also i know im the one writing this but you ever sit there and go #god damn im great at writing a bitchy connor #because god damn am i great at writing a bitchy connor

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beevean · 7 months ago

Note

https://gizmodo.com/castlevania-nocturne-interview-spoilers-alucard-annette-1850892875

This is an interview that for once is not only with Deats but with Clive Bradely as well, Nocturne's writer and Ellis' replacement.

Before I start, I love how they talk about *that* ending like it's the hypest thing to ever hype. They know. They know what the fans only care about.

It ends with a clear and ready indicator that team is ready to tackle arguably the most iconic Castlevania narrative of all time, Symphony of the Night, as Richter and his allies find themselves bolstered in the darkest hour by the arrival of a familiar face… well, to us, at least, even if our young heroes aren’t as up on their Castlevania lore as gamers are.

Fucking peak. I love it. The gang is ready to tackle the SoTN story because even though they were about to die badly, after losing Tera, Alucard is there to save the day. Goddamnit if you suck his dick any harder you'll vacuum it off his body.

Also lol and lmao they cannot adapt SoTN at all. Where is Richter grappling with the fear that after killing Dracula his life is now done, making him easy prey for Shaft's manipulations? None of this can happen. Dracula isn't even around!

The character of Annette, trapped in a castle, made me think of Esmeralda in The Hunchback of Notre Dame—this extraordinary woman who sweeps into France. It seemed an obvious step to make Annette a revolutionary from St. Domingue/Haiti on that sort of model.

This... sure is a train of thought. I'll just say N!Annette fucking wishes she had Esmeralda's charisma.

Later we had a Haitian adviser on board, Cècile Accilien, who helped us with aspects of the history and culture. We wanted it to be as authentic and grounded in reality as possible.

oh god no spinning i'm wheezing

If i was Mrs. Accilien I'd be offended by how the character named after me can't even be a proper wise guide without degenerating into "your entire self is rooted into being a slave" and "those stupid frenchies will never understand our pain, so don't bother expecting empathy from your boo", but what do I know

also yeah sure it's realistic how Annette uses the power of her gods to run away from slavery

I just loved the idea of Richter’s grandfather as this bitter old guy who’s been through hell, lost his magic (which at the point they meet is also true of Richter)—kind of the opposite of Richter, or an image of how Richter could end up if he doesn’t evolve into the hero he needs to be.

Fuck off. I've already ranted about this. My poor man Juste deserves better than being "that one stupid asshole that exists as a warning".

I just wanted to add that Juste is a really special inclusion in the series for me, and Clive brought him into the show in a really great way that resonates really well with the Castlevania fan in me.

"wah i'm so glad juste was included in my story as a cynical fuck to be bullied, for meeeee 🥺 i'm such a big fan guys 🥺🥺🥺"

I don't like Deats. I know it's mean of me, but the more I read him talk, the less I like him as a person, he's just so conceited. I don't know who is the bigger hack between him and Flynn now.

So there’s almost a bit of a debate about Alucard’s design and whether he has intended to have pale blonde hair or white hair in Symphony of the Night based on the artwork of him and even his character’s sprite in the game. At the time of designing him in the original series, though, I decided to lean towards the pale blonde hair in order to invoke his mother, which was appropriate to the story. His hair got more saturated during lighting/compositing than I had ever intended, though, which was a constant frustration of mine. But even back then I tinkered with the idea that if we were to jump forward in time, to show how time has passed by leaning more towards the white haired direction (this also had the added benefit of not being something we would have to worry about getting over-saturated during lighting!).

Well, there you have it. N!Alucard's hair got lighter in-universe. I wonder if he changed color naturally or he decided to change his appearance.

for Nocturne, we wanted to invoke his SOTN look while also reflecting that this is a version of him that’s been awake and fighting for 300 years

Mhh. So I was right. He did live on for 300 years and witness his friends' death, abandoning his castle and village and Trevor's descendants to fight by himself. I'll make sure to judge this decision once S2 comes out.

#anti netflixvania

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bane-amesta · 9 months ago

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Vergil's journey: The true DMC5 Special Edition (?)

First attempt ever at posting fics here, let me know if I made a mistake in any sort of way plz Basically this is my "fuck it I'll do it myself" about Crapcom's custom to make Vergil playable just a copypaste into the og campaign with no story or context at all lmao

Also is a prologue for my longer DMC5 fic (too long to post it here sadly), I'll add the links to AO3 at the end :D Enjoy!

Autoimposed rules while writing this:

1º Using only Vergil's POV 2º Make it work within the game, aka not using scenarios, dialogs, etc from other entries 3º Make sure to add sections that can be interpreted as gameplay, cinematics, and also the trope of obtaining weapons along the way (I excluded bosses since this can be just any random thing from the enemies list lol) 4º Exclude any of my fanfic shenanigans since those are already a creature on its own xD

Nightmares were always with him. It was the only thing that was always with him. And he was on the verge of wishing for death just to see if he could make them dissapear once and for all.

Until suddenly, without any explanation, that endless cycle stopped.

He opened his eyes, looked around him, not knowing where he was. But that was not important. Hell will always be hell.

Something was different, however, the eternal torture that had become part of him was gone.

Finally, he looked at his hands, hoping to see the damn armor that had held him captive for how long? Months, years, centuries?

But no, there was none of that, except his own hands, covered by the usual gloves, and the blue coat was badly damaged, but not destroyed.

This was so unusual that it took him a while to understand. But it was undeniable.

Nelo Angelo was dead. Vergil had been reborn, survived, somehow.

He tried to get up, but he was very weak, in pain. But that pain was only physical, something new, because it told him that his body, even in that state, refused to die yet. He could see faint marks on his skin, as if he were made of clay about to crack. Yet he was still in one piece, alive.

And that was enough for the moment.

Hearing the usual demonic roar in the distance, he rushed to unsheathe his sword, only to realize it was not in his hand. For a brief second horror filled his face. But then his mind brought back the memories that had been taken from him when he was forced to be a puppet of the prince of darkness.

Vergil trying to get the power of Sparda, Dante trying to prevent it. The final battle at the entrance to the underworld, with his father's sword, his hands barely picking up the amulet that was rightfully his before leaping into the void.

Mundus, glaring at him as he charged forward feigning arrogance, despite knowing that this battle could be his last.

Finally, the darkness surrounding him as his sword fell to pieces, engulfed by a sea of blood, before his eyes were covered and his mind closed, to give the last touches at the new toy of the underworld's ruler.

His head kept spinning, all that coming back suddenly was too cruel.

Vergil managed to get up at last, not so much from needing to move, as to focus his thoughts on something else, anything, but it was useless. The memories kept coming back to him.

Trish's creation, Mallet Island, Dante fighting his way with his father's sword instead of his own, and facing Nelo Angelo without knowing who was behind the armor.

What would Dante have thought after that victory, and discovered Vergil behind the creature he just killed?

He put his hand to his neck on reflex, and found only the fabric of his worn clothes. He almost felt like laughing. Even the amulet, now useless, had been taken from him.

Another noise, closer this time, brought him back to reality. This time he had no choice, he must face danger, or flee. But Vergil has never been that kind of person.

Even without his Yamato, he was going to fight somehow.

With enormous effort, he accomplished his goal. About eight bright blue swords appeared around him, creating a constantly rotating shield. A technique created years ago, imbued with the most vivid despair, when he was still a child and there was no one, nothing to protect him.

That idea made him frown. He greatly disliked having to go back to this to survive, but after thinking about it for a moment, none of it mattered anymore.

He has anything to lose, not anymore.

And he could still fight.

He walked in the direction of the noise, which turned out to be a miserable low-grade demon, which didn't last long enough for it to mean anything. At least in this state he could still have that kind of personal satisfaction.

The only thing he regretted was not being able to beat his brother one last time. He had been defeated so many times that he could no longer live or die in peace until he did. A single victory was all he needed.

How to do it was not clear yet, but he was sure that something could be done about it.

Yamato separated the demons from the humans. It was the key to isolate both worlds and separate them completely.

...Why had that particular phrase popped into his mind?

More importantly, did that phrase have a more literal meaning than he ever thought?

There was one thing Vergil had never tried, and which, in the current situation, might as well be his last chance.

Dante's power awakened when Vergil pierced his brother's body with his own sword.

Something that never happened to him.

What would happen to Vergil if he did the same?

The only way to know was to try.

The Yamato was so attached to his being, that he feel capable to even tracking the sword, as soon as he had regained some energy.

That was motivation enough to keep walking.

With effort he disposed of the garbage that crossed his path, even before they knew he was there. The summoned swords turned into spears that he could throw away, saving energy. His body wasn't in the best shape, so he wasn't going to try too hard if he could help it. Vergil was grateful for the distant moment when he received a simple but powerful advice: that disdaining firearms was no excuse for not having an ace up his sleeve, in the form of a long-range attack.

If he had no weapons, he could just try creating some other variation of the same attack, after all, he had plenty of time to experiment. And there were many demons that could give him something interesting after a fight.

The latter was an idea that he would only use in an emergency, since it was nevertheless only one weapon that he really needed. The rest was optional.

He kept walking and slaying demons, avoiding the ones that were too much for his current abilities, for who knows for how long. Time is a concept that have its own rules in the underworld, but something was evident. The Yamato was in the human world. He had to find a way to get back.

Luckily for him, the most powerful demons used to be near the dimensional holes that led to the other side, which they always used to go hunting when they were fed up with the usual garbage.

When he was not fighting for his life, Vergil heard voices, rumors of something coming, an event so strange that some no longer remembered whether it was true or not, but that those who were above the rest knew very well, and were preparing to take advantage of it.

The Qlipoth, the demon tree, was growing again, and it would soon reach the human world. And the demon who managed to eat its fruit would rise as the king, the strongest of all, just like Mundus in his day.

With such an opportunity, no one cared about the poor wretches at the end of the food chain. Something that of course Vergil used for his own purposes. Being ignored, probably for the first time as Sparda's son, deeply offended him, but he couldn't afford it, considering his state. Besides, he had more important things to do.

At this point, he had already managed to create a near-perfect copy of the Force Edge, his father's sword, which he was unable to claim for himself and ended up in Dante's hands. He was still somewhat angry about it, but lamenting was useless. This new version was part of his energy and therefore he would never lose it. That gave him a little more self-confidence.

And perhaps luck was reaching out to him, feeling guilty after ignoring him for so long, because as soon as he set foot in the human world, he knew immediately where to turn.

The city of Fortuna.

Unfortunately, his body was not in tune with his mind, since he also felt that what little strength he had gathered was leaving him again, this time with the certainty that there's no time to waste. A quick glance at the first surface that allowed it, informed Vergil that his face was beginning to crack as well. So the first thing he did in the human world was look for something that would hide his pathetic appearance.

Another unexpected stroke of luck led him to find Beowulf on his way to his destination, at the home of a collector who clearly had no idea of the weapon's true value.

In the eyes of mere humans, that would be considered theft, for Vergil it was nothing more than recovering something long time lost.

But his body grew weaker and weaker; for the same reason, his mind was focused back on that single purpose, dispatching the enemies that appeared as quickly as possible, conveniently forgetting that he had already visited that city once, and that the young man who kindly offered him something to eat might or might not to be more than just a stranger.

Why did he have the Yamato? Why was his appearance so similar to Vergil's?

Those questions disappeared immediately, the boy noticed that something was wrong, and his arm flashed to show him the threat.

That was all that Vergil needed, with what little strength he had left, he tore off the kid's arm without hesitation, and calling the sword, opened a portal, crossing it without looking back, with the certainty that he had won another enemy.

But that didn't matter. His mission was more important, he could not afford to die without achieving it first. And a child was no reason to worry. The end justifies the means, after all.

He went on his way, although this time the correct thing to say would be that he was going back instead of forward. Going back to his childhood's city was not something to take lightly.

Vergil is not the kind of person to look back. He never did it before, it was a waste of time, a useless torture. Right now, however, it was a kind of ritual that needed to be done.

To achieve his goal, severing ties permanently was a prerequisite.

And doing it in the old family home was the most appropriate thing to do.

He looked at the huge portrait of what was once a happy family. It was quite damaged, but the overall image was still somehow recognizable. Mysteriously the mother had been "saved", her features were the only ones clearly visible, while the face of the father and the two children had been lost in the black of combustion.

How ironic, Vergil thought, as he focused on the twins, and it didn't take any effort to tell them apart, it was obvious to him.

-Dante...

His twin brother, the only living relative he had left, the reason he was there, about to abandon everything, hoping to regain his lost honor back, in one last desperate attempt.

Turning his back on the portrait, to his family, he focused on what he had come to do, he didn't know what would come of it all, but again, it didn't matter anymore.

Separating man from demon was his last hope, and along with it, he also took care to cut off everything he considered a weakness, the reasons for his defeat, the nightmares that constantly reminded him that he still had not managed to obtain the power that he had sought so much.

He stabbed himself with the sword while he recited that spell that, to tell the truth, he no longer remembered where he found it.

As pain stalked him again, he felt that his plan had worked, his human side and his nightmares were successfully discarded, and something grew within him, a raw and savage power that grew ever greater.

And so Vergil ceased to exist... for a period of a month, or so.

When V achieved his own goal, and plunged the cane into the demon king to unite the two halves again, the being known as Vergil returned. As he watched the pieces of the illusion fall, the mansion disappearing, he realized that he never predicted this outcome. V had been discarded and his mission was fulfilled at the exact moment of his "birth", but he did not expect that, instead of lying down to die and accepting his fate, that remnant of his would do the opposite.

However, to say that he was upset about it would be a lie.

Because thanks to that, this time he could finally face his old rival in the same conditions, a fair and long-awaited fight, because yes, Urizen had also left his mark on this new Vergil and he remembered his battles, but for some reason, it was not the same.

Perhaps the human side of him was much more complex or important than he ever thought, but Urizen, powerful as he was, was far too… simple. A creature with only one purpose in mind was not what Vergil wished for when he thought of a perfect demon, and his victories were far from truly satisfying.

Vergil didn't have an answer to this question, and he would probably never find it, but that was past.

At this moment, something more interesting was in front of him: Dante, tired, but in the mood for a fight.

Beside him, that boy, Nero, his expression showed with brutal frankness the confusion he felt in this strange situation. He had helped V, but of course he never imagined that V was a part of the individual who stole his arm. Even with V's explanation, he didn't seem to understand why this was absolutely necessary for the brothers, something inevitable.

However, instead of going straight for the attack, Vergil looked to the ground, where was the book that V had taken with him from the first seconds of his existence. Again, he wondered why he had held onto that object so vehemently. It was not a weapon, nor was it a pleasant memory, yet he couldn't help it. Now, as Vergil, he did the same, pick it up, and put it away. Something unusual about him, but there was no time to think, Dante made the first move.

Vergil felt refreshed, this time, stronger than ever thanks to the fruit of the tree, which gifted him with a couple of new skills that he was eager to try, and dispatched Dante almost effortlessly. He even felt the luxury of giving his brother a chance to rest, before the final fight.

For some reason he couldn't understand at the time, he turned around, looking at Nero before disappearing through the portal.

-Thank you, Nero...

Why he said that? Those kinds of words weren't his style, always used to getting what he needed on his own. But denying the boy's participation was absurd, even when V didn't hesitate for a moment to use him as a tool to achieve his goal, Nero as well didn't hesitate to help V when he was so close to die.

Vergil opened his eyes again. This time he was at the top of the demon tree, thousands of meters above the city, waiting patiently for Dante, and in that span of time he had done something unbecoming of him: look back, reflect on the past and all the decisions that led to this time and place. It must have been a bad habit inherited from V, who had perhaps become too used to that mental torture, as he searched for the discarded nightmares in a pathetic attempt to confront Urizen.

But that little lapse had come to an end. Dante had arrived, demanding the sword that belonged to him by right, and that this time no one would steal it ever again.

-If you want it, you'll have to take it. But you already knew that.

-I had the feeling you'd say that.

A smile was born from both of them, aware that this time would be the last. Years of conflict and rivalry, condensed into a decisive battle.

One of the two would die here. But even so they smiled, remembering old times and accustomed from their earliest childhood to solving everything that way, their own particular way of relating as a family.

That last word, however, ended up attacking Vergil in an unexpected way, when Dante in the middle of the fight, remarked casually (or perhaps with a well-calculated purpose), that Nero was his son.

-You cutt off your own son's arm for THIS?

-My son…? That means nothing to me!- Vergil replied immediately, without stopping to think about what Dante had meant.

The confrontation continued almost like nothing, but when Vergil was about to be defeated, he stepped aside to throw Dante away, and in that moment, his brain finally made the missing connection.

-Nero is my son?- He asked wearily, unable to hide the disbelief in his voice.

-Yeah, dumbass- Dante answered with a slight laugh as he got up-, You can't remember through that thick skull of yours?

If Vergil stopped to think, yes, it all made sense, and he wondered why he hadn't noticed it before, even that annoying bird hinted at V more than once the same thing. Something that, in those moments of uncertainty, did not matter.

Although it was more correct to say that he deliberately ignored all the clues.

But then, something else passed through his mind, a memory that he had believed dead and forgotten, a woman's face that...

-Well, well, that was a long time ago- he said without further ado, ending that topic.

-I guess you were young once too. As much as I'd love to hear that story, I think it's about time we...

-...Ended this- Vergil answered immediately.

That was too deep of a secret, which he preferred to take to the grave, and would do everything he could to make sure of it.

Dante would never know about that matter. If he already had motives to kill him before, now he must do it at any cost.

Both men drew their weapons, took their most powerful form, ready for one last attack.

They charge at the same time, intending to finish it all in one strike.

The dreaded final slash never happened. Something appeared in front of the brothers, stopping them with a hand on their chest, also holding the hands that wielded both swords at the same time.

A demon with long white hair and blue wings.

They barely had time to recognize Nero, before he threw them away, and gave his own opinion on the matter.

-This ends, right here. I won't let you kill each other.

Vergil couldn't help but react when Nero in one blow sent Dante flying as he tried to pull the boy to the side, without even looking at him. Maybe the boy was indeed his son after all.

He was aware that Nero was still upset about being called a deadweight, and knew immediately from whom he had inherited that spiteful trait.

Unfortunately, he couldn't celebrate seeing Dante on the ground, because now Nero turned in his direction.

-There are other ways to settle your differences. I'm putting a stop to this sibling rivalry.

Vergil couldn't help but laugh. Nero made it sound so easy.

The situation was so absurd.

A child trying to teach adults a lesson.

-Ah, you came all this way just for that.

-Vergil, V... Whatever you call yourself. Dante won't die here, and neither will you. You have a problem with that?

Okay, now this was unusual. V witnessed in the front row his talent to hold a grudge, how Nero was determined to defeat and eliminate the bastard who cut off his arm. Perhaps knowing now that they were family had made Nero reconsider, despite what Vergil had done to him?

Would he forgive him just for that?

No, of course not, that was not what Nero had in mind. He would not be a descendant of Sparda if he chose the peaceful route.

So this kid wants to fight. Vergil understood his motives, of course, but that was not equivalent to taking him seriously. Having a new power was not enough. Vergil tried to engage Dante, tempt him to fight again and thus pushing Nero aside, but he completely ignored him.

-Whatever, I don't really care, I'm just gonna sit this one out- said the younger twin, laying down on the ground ready to take a nap.

Damn it, Dante.

So it was Vergil vs Nero.

-When this is over, I'll make you submit… Father.

That word sent a chill down his spine. It was strange, unknown, and he immediately knew he would never get used to it.

Again Vergil tried to not engage in the fight.

-This has nothing to do with you. Stand down.

-Nothing to do with me? It has everything to do with me!

-Nero…

He suddenly realized something. It's not just that he has no reason to fight Nero.

Vergil doesn't want to fight Nero.

But why?

It's not fear, no. The boy is stronger now, but he is still too young and inexperienced to compare up to the twins. Or maybe, maybe yes, because Nero wants something very particular out of this fight, and Vergil isn't willing to even think about it.

He just dodged, and launched weak attacks. He really did not want to take the situation to a point of no return, but the boy would not listen to reasons.

-Fuck you!

-You…

The kid is angry. Without even seeing him grow up, Vergil knew that he had inherited the method of solving problems with his fists. It brought back memories of those old fights with Dante over anything and everything, but this time the motive was more important, getting Vergil to recognize him as his son.

-You feeling accepting yet?

-…Your existence, or your strength?

-Both you fuckin' asshole!

...If Nero wants recognition from him, then he will have to earn it.

It was time to check the boy's real strength.

Vergil had no choice but to fight seriously, an oversight could send him flying, just like Dante. He wasn't going to let himself be humiliated by the boy, not when he could see Dante out of the corner of his eye, sitting down and enjoying the show. He wanted so badly to kick his ass when it was all over...

The fight ran its course, and to Vergil's disappointment, the youngest was the winner.

-Interesting...

-Ahahaha, oh brother, you cut off your son's arm for more power, and you still lost.

-Enough dammit! The underworld is taking over, we need to do something before it's too late.

A trembling proved Nero right.

-He's right, we need to close that portal. Hey, you lost, so you better do what he says.

Vergil wasn't going to admit defeat so easily. He got to his feet as best he could, and for the first time he felt that the weight of his age was upon him.

-I can still fight.- Nero was on guard again. -But if those roots continue to spread through town, it'll just interfere with our business.

Vergil started walking and Dante got up to follow him, leaving Nero behind.

It was not necessary to explain to his brother what they had to do. Without crossing a word they had already agreed.

-Now, that's the smartest thing I've ever heard you say. Better hurry up… We still got a score to settle.

-Evidently.

-Wait, where are you going?

Vergil turned to Nero to explain the situation.

-We need to sever the Qliphoth roots from the underworld itself. Then we'll seal the portal with the Yamato.

Nero looked at them both, immediately understanding the situation.

-Hang on, if you do that, you can't come back.

This time Dante answered.

-Why do you think I'm goin'? Somebody's gotta keep an eye on your old man.

The brothers turned their backs on Nero as they walked away.

-You can't just expect me to stay here while you both go-

-It's because you're here we can go-. Dante said suddenly. -We're trusting you with things on this side, capisce?

Vergil didn't stop to watch. Whatever relationship those two had, that moment was the closest thing to a goodbye, and he didn't want to be a part of it. It was better to leave as soon as possible.

-Make haste, Dante.

-Yeah. I know.

Of course, Nero disagreed. There was no need to look him in the face to figure it out.

-Hey, wait!

They both heard him run in his direction, and with that twin instinct, they synchronized to hit the young man and send him flying back, far enough away that he couldn't do anything about it.

-Take care, Nero. Adiós.

Dante left first, clearly intending to give the two of them a moment alone.

Vergil wasn't in the mood for a family reunion, but he couldn't just walk away.

-I won't lose next time.

He looked at the book in his hand, considering that idea that had just occurred to him.

-Hold onto that until then.

There, it was done. He threw the book to the ground, and while he followed the same path as Dante leaving his son behind, he thought that "farewell" wasn't too bad.

Now there was only one problem left: getting rid of Dante.

It was obvious that he would stick to Vergil like a pesky plague while they were in the underworld. They were heading to cut down the demon tree and the younger twin was already talking way too much. Vergil let him be, more out of boredom than anything else. As soon as he managed to defeat Dante, that annoying chat would be a thing of the past.

But again his plans weren't working, and they were already enjoying the fights as a game rather than a death battle.

-Score for Dante! I'm up one.

-Where did you learn to count? We're even.

Dante lay down to rest, as if they weren't in the middle of hell, open to a possible attack.

-You know, I'm starting to think, this is never gonna end.

-Maybe. We have plenty of time.

He couldn't deny that there was some fun, just like the old days. The only problem is that Dante occasionally threw out things about Nero way too casually for Vergil's taste, like nothing.

-By the way, how'd it felt catching up with your kid?

-There's no need for us to "catch up".

-Well, with an attitude like that, you'll never gonna meet your grandkids.

Vergil didn't take a second to put the Yamato on his brother's neck.

-That's enough. I don't want to hear it.

Dante nodded, but his expression made it clear that he wasn't going to shut up about it so easily.

At least Vergil will have plenty of time to try to silence him once and for all...

My AO3 page for those interested

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurasakiWitch/works

#fanfic #ao3 #devil may cry 5 #dmc vergil #dmc dante #am i doing this right?

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enkisstories · 11 months ago

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The wrecking of the Steadfast

General Hux finally has what he always wanted! Well, not the Emperor's throne... or the title of Grand-Marshall... or Kylo Ren dead... But he has that mouthy, enervating Poe Dameron helpless at his mercy, and that's a fortune not to scoff at. However, the General needs the little nusiance and his friends alive to escape from captivity, if he doesn't want get executed for treason by his former comrades. And someone really should do something about that badly damaged star destroyer in orbit, that's generating debris left and right, each piece of space trash threatening to crash into the colony the fugitives are hiding in. Worst trouble a single destroyer has ever given Poe! Over the course of their escape, the unlikely allies Dameron and Hux turn scarily human in each other's eyes. Is there a chance for their growing bond to survive those few days of having a shared goal?

Read here.

Excerpt:

A few paces to the side Hux sat with his back to the wall. He repeatedly tossed a small rubber ball against a board saying “No Vacancy” (apparently the safe house was officially registered as a vacation home for visitors from the countryside) and caught it again when it rebounded. The pace was much slower than if Poe had played the same game, but even so it was fast enough to make the pilot’s only so recently injured head spin.

“Sit”, Hux said without looking at the arrival.

Poe slid down the wall next to him. When Hux tossed the ball the next time, Poe snatched it on its return.

“Can we talk? In earnest, I mean.”

“I won't try to talk you out of flying tomorrow, but do not expect encouragement from me, either. You know the risks. Do what you want… as you always do.”

“I wanted to talk about Crait.”

Now Poe had the mole’s full attention.

“Crait?! What would there to be discuss about Crait between us?”

“Kylo Ren. You had him out in the open and at point blank range. Why didn’t you order your crew to fire? Why didn’t you remove the one obstacle between you and the throne right there?”

“And they say I’m bad at making friends…”

“Look, Hux, I still haven’t fully recovered, but me and my friends are expected to sleep under the same roof as you tonight. We discussed taking shifts standing watch or locking you up in the broom cabinet to minimize the risk of getting assassinated."

"Oh, did you?"

Acid would have been gentler than the General’s voice in this moment, but Poe had to admit that he wouldn’t have taken this revelation any kinder. His reply would have been more creative, but stung no less.

"Help me understand you! There seems to have been a line you were not willing to cross. That’s quite out of character for you.”

[...]

Now Poe threw himself around with a speed that had to be even less healthy for him than the emotions. He balled his fists and advanced, but stopped short of hitting the enemy officer.

“No way you could have known that!” Poe shouted. “Not that! This song is about the polar opposite of what the First Order stands for!”

How could it be possible that the enemy took everything the rebels held dear, but twisted it? That was worse than destroying something, this claiming of something good for themselves, putting it through the wringer and spitting it out desecrated.

“I sang this song to Ren, in my head, when he waltzed into a council session with a new mask on”, Hux said calmly, with just a hint of glee. “Because, see? He’s worshipping the ashes, Vader’s ashes, and he’s not going anywhere doing so. Whereas I preserve the flame. Four. Beams. In. A. Single. Shot. The sun resulting from the Hosnian cataclysm will still be burning when nobody remembers us anymore.”

“You… bastard…”

Hux’ eyes bore into Poe’s. They were pure ice, despite all the talk of fire, cold, but not uncaring. To the contrary, the icicle’s sharpness cared a lot, but what it cared about was to cause pain.

“Finally woken up, little pilot?” Hux barked. “Good for you. Who do you think you are to "test" me for indoor privileges?! I’m not you guys’ pet, not the tamed danger! A war trophy, maybe, but even that remains to be seen. You can’t decide what to do with me, as if I were a frog your kid has brought into the house! I sleep where I decide to…”

There was a short, uncomfortable pause, uncomfortable for the General, that was, seeing what had briefly flashed through his mind. But then he decided to just run with it and shouted:

“…and if that’s YOUR bed, you’ll shut up and like it!”

And with these words he rose and strode into the house. As confidently as his still not fully healed leg would allow, anyway.

In the common room BB-8 turned his head away from a holographic game he had been playing with [an OC]. He now fixed his gaze on Hux and, as the droid assumed, Poe entering the house behind him. Since BB-8 was the one projecting the gaming field, it now fell over Hux. White and black dots on a grid obscured his sight and in a reflex he tried to wave them away. Suddenly realizing that Hux had come in alone, that there was no Poe anywhere in sight, BB-8 deactivated the game and rolled towards the door at top-speed, deliberately tripping the General. Whatever had occurred between him and Poe, it was painfully obvious that they hadn’t parted as friends.

Second time flat on my belly in as many days. And again in full sight of the rebels….

[...]

Hux hadn’t expected to fall to sleep this fast. As a result he woke up so early that it was still night. In the bed standing at a right angle with his, Poe’s hand had slipped free from under the covers and was dangling over the edge. How typical! The little barbarian didn’t care one bit about how he was presenting himself to the world. Not that it would have mattered in any way, shape or form, normally. But in his current condition sleeping like a heap of droids in the Lost and Found office could be detrimental to Poe’s recovery.

Giving in to an impulse, Hux reached out, intent on putting the hand back where it belonged. He wasn’t prepared for it to twitch and the fingers to curl as if to clamp the attacker down. Since it was too late to retract his own hand, Hux went for the only option left to him: at least squeeze the other’s hand instead of letting it capture him.

Poe blinked. “Huh?”

“Don’t ask. Just. Don’t ask. So tired of your shit…”

“Yeah, same here!”

As if it wasn’t him, who had to clean up after every mess Snoke, Ren and Hux had caused to the galaxy for years now! Poe had entered his thirties and imagined his life differently, but here they were, fighting a war same as their parents before them had done, yet the First Order General had the nerve to complain to HIM? Sure, you have it so hard…

But then again, locked in each other’s grasp now they were just two people who had woken up in the middle of the night, and in this state pretty much every hand felt the same. This hand Poe was holding had killed and tortured, but it wasn’t incapable of caressing and comforting, too. There just had never been any reason to for it.

“Is there a chance you might let go?” Hux asked, albeit without making any effort to wiggle free.

“Not even if you directly asked me to, no.”

Back to sleep Poe’s mind went. And so they lay, holding hands. After a while Hux had fallen asleep again, too.

By morning both their hands hang over the edge. They must have let go of each other, but they couldn’t remember when that had happened, so they pretended it had never been a thing in the first place. For what was there to their “bond”, viewed rationally? Poe Dameron had hit his head, he wasn’t thinking clearly. And Armitage Hux was alone in unfamiliar territory, a situation that left a member of the incredibly social species that was humankind no choice but to attach themselves, even if that meant fraternizing with the enemy. There was nothing surprising here, or particularly deep and especially nothing lasting.

[...]

Hux shook Poe by the shoulder.

“Waky-waky, rebel scum!”

“Uh… Is it morning already?”

“Uh-huh. How are you in the spot where other people have their brains?”

“Fine, I think. Your leg?”

“The injury is still noticeable, but not what I’d call painful. A bit annoying.”

“That does translate into lowered reaction speed, though.”

“You tell me!” A frown, quickly followed by a smile. “So, General Dameron, do you want to sit this mission out and play Pazaak together in the infirmary?”

My new rank… Quick, translate Hux to human speech, what does he mean to convey? Ah, right. Acknowledging the rank granted to me by the military of a political body he doesn’t recognize as legit is like offering first name terms. And actually better than if he had done that. I certainly don’t respect this man as a person, but he really is a competent strategist.

“Tempting, Grand-Marshal", Poe returned the offer. "But seeing how we fared last time we entered one, I have to pass.”

[...]

“Ready to go?” Finn asked.

Rose, Poe and the droids replied affirmative, then five sets of sensors focused on the defector. Having a second engineer next to Rose and a sixths body overall with them would be helpful, of course, but bringing Hux along was still a risk.

Hux swallowed the last of his tea. He understood that acting naturally was his best bet now, if he didn’t want to get left behind tied up (and probably having killed one of the rebels before they overpowered him). Unfortunately “acting naturally” for Armitage Hux boiled down to striking a pose and giving a speech:

“Recently I found myself thinking that with you by my side I’d made it to the top, after all. The way you reacted to each of my leaks, putting your expanded knowledge to the best effect, was a joy to watch. Very different from how one imagines disorganized anarchists. It’s not the compliment you want to hear, I’m sure, but I look forward to our mission together. At the very least it should be interesting.”

It seemed to have worked, because the next moment they were sitting in a speeder and were on their way to the space port.

#poe dameron #armitage hux #star wars #star wars sequels #gingerpilot

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derekscorner · 10 months ago

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Ghost of Ramblings: Dad of Boi

Started a New game plus Recently

I have been playing God of War from Ascension in chronological order over the past few months and I've finally made my way back to GoW 2018 and it's new game plus.

It's been a hot minute since I played the NG+ and it took even more minutes to adjust to it's combat after playing Classic GoW for so long. I got hooked on Ghost of Sparda and GoW3 for quite a while.

The whole while I was just taking in how beautiful the whole game is. Remembering the story beats or how this one game got me into the whole series. My god slayer journey began here with Dad of Boi.

I was reminded of how good its story truly is. How tightly written and delivered it's dialogue is. The nuances of Kratos hit harder too since I have played classic GoW this time unlike my first time playing Dad of Boi.

Back then all I had was curious youtube and wiki searches to get a grasp of Kratos' world. It's hard to explain but it truly does feel different if you play GoW 2018 after playing, at minimum, GoW 1, 2 and 3.

Hell, I'd even argue that GoW 2018 will hit different after plaything through it's own sequel Ragnarok. I know Ragnarok has some harsh critics, I'm not one of them, but it is hard to deny that it's predecessor is just written better.

Every little story in the boat, every little dialogue when exploring, the whole adventure is a bonding and learning moment for Atreus and Kratos. Every scene with Odin's kin, the parallel to Freya and Baldur in particular, shows what Kratos is trying to avoid.

A pacing and blend so well done that I'd call it a lightning in the bottle moment.

I love this scene ^^^^

Nothing in this world is perfect mind you but it's hard to talk about GoW 2018 and not praise its story.

Of course, Ragnarok is still an improvement in gameplay overall. I had grown too addicted to the customization options for appearance. The very fact that I can unlock and play young Kratos in Ragnarok is amazing to me.

It does make me wonder what went wrong in the story department of Ragnarok though. As I said, I'm no harsh critic of Ragnarok but I can't deny it has pacing issues.

Thankfully they added scene skip so even the Atreus segments can be skimmed on repeat playthroughs. They didn't bother me on the first run but I can only handle so many two hour stretches of Atreus wandering Ironwood.

I've always heard rumors that it's because they chose to make the Norse story a duology which I could believe. Ragnarok feels like it needed to be the third game not the second one.

The whole personality shift of Freya truly does feel rushed. As beautiful as that scene is when she lets go it needed more time to be truly believable.

I also think it would've made her conflicted feelings more conceivable if she had witnessed Kratos' memories in some magical mumbo jumbo way. It's hard to imagine he's talk so freely about his family yet I also think it's crucial for Freya to shift the focus of her rage after hearing about Calliope.

Kratos did do her wrong while trying to do something right but I think that would only get through to Freya if she saw that moment. Kratos was by no means a good person but his love for his family was real and it drove him to a madness that ended a pantheon.

Kratos is easily the only man there that understands her feelings.

I glitched the blades in these scenes somehow

But even this is a minor complaint. I do not consider the narrative of Ragnarok worth some harshness I see it get. It's badly paced to be sure but it's not offensive.

If anything, I hope they learn from it for their new projects. I have next to no interest in Atreus since he genuinely is annoying in Ragnarok but I wouldn't mind giving him a shot in a spin off if they learn from it.

Or, ya know, send him to Greece. I do not care how annoying the boy of war is. I would pay them money to see him walk through Greece and see the monster that his father was.

I'd even give them my respect if Atreus realized just how hard Kratos worked to channel his bottomless rage into a weapon to use. I know many fans hate how weak Kratos seems to be now and I personally find the "holding back" excuse weak on the devs part.

So I relate a bit. I do not fully agree since I began the series with 2018 so my opinion is forever biased on such topics.

I have no real point to make with this post by the way. I am just gushing about a game I like and rambling about the contrast it has to it's own sequel or predecessors.

The whole of my praise is also limited to GoW 2018's narrative. In terms of world building or story consistency I could rip the God of War series apart.

The classic games weren't exactly consistent with some things like the potential paradox of using Fates threads, Kratos losing that time travel power in 3 despite using it moments prior in 2's ending, or the whole ambiguity of his godhood. (I wont even get into the last minute hope thing in 3)

It's not a mess like I'd rant about with Kingdom Hearts or Bleach. Sure, there are some details in a novelization or two, a comic story here or there, but it's nothing you need to know.

Kratos even references a novel detail in Ragnarok. When asked why he doesn't just throw his blades away Kratos will retort with an annoyed statement that he "tried".

Step into the light Boy

That doesn't confirm a novel as 100% valid but it does show subtly that the blades follow him against his will.

My own personal take on Kratos' continued godhood is also a curse. He's got to live as what he despises most until something powerful enough finally kills him in a way where he won't burst out of Hel's gates.

That's a tangent all its own I think. I just felt like rambling a bit, there's even a lot I left out. Like the pure pointlessness of a lock-on in either game due to how often the enemies dart around and break the targeting.

I wonder what many of you think about 2018 now that Valhalla has come and gone. Ragnarok may have been hit or miss for many but Valhalla is nearly as good as 2018 I feel.

Though, not having young Kratos speak with his original voice actor in that one scene felt like a missed opportunity imo.

Oh well, I'm done now. Bye~

#ghost of ramblings #god of war 2018 #god of war #gow ragnarok #kratos

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amberskyyking · 4 months ago

Text

Friend-Coded

Chapter 3: I’m With Stupid

Rinzler has a friend now, and that friend can apparently be stupidly optimistic at times... Even about him.

CW: Past torture, abuse

Beck was still holding his hand.

Rinzler watched the other program for a few moments after he first woke from his badly needed sleep cycle. Even before his directives were compromised, even before falling into the sea, he had been running without rest for longer than even CLU usually pushed him to, putting down a millicycles-long uprising in the Iota sector and reporting back to CLU for one of his… his debriefings. Rinzler shut down that memory the instant it threatened to replay. After that he had entered the games, he had found the User, Sam_Flynn, the user escaped, there was a hunt, all of CLU’s grand plans, a dogfight, and…

Rinzler shook his head as if the action could clear his scrabbling code and make anything make sense like it used to, but it couldn’t. The Users had ruined everything, even Rinzler. CLU had been working to fix him for a thousand cycles worth of war, and those efforts all vanished with five simple words out of Kevin_Flynn’s mouth.

Tron, what have you become?

The clicking from his processors had been quiet for the first few nanos he was awake but that reminder sent them racing again. He wasn’t Tron, he could never be Tron, no matter what the fractured old memories shifting around in his code suggested, but none of that mattered when Flynn himself spoke and Rinzler broke. If that wasn’t bad enough, CLU and Flynn were both gone now, and they had left Rinzler drowning in a torrent of old data he didn’t understand. He barely woke up and already the pieces were rattling around under his skin again, trying to push their way to the surface.

Rinzler rezzed his helmet just to hide behind something. He didn’t want to deal with them now, he couldn’t, he had functioned fine without them all this time so when the first memory bubbled to the surface he shut it down before it could play, just like he did with CLU’s debriefing from before. Annoyingly, another rose up instead. He shut it down too, but a third surged forward with force and anxiety rose in his chest as he struggled to stop it from playing. His processors were grinding badly again, he wasn’t sure how Beck hadn’t been woken up by them, and in his effort he felt something slip past his defenses -

I didn’t want to do this, but you forced my hand, Someone said, their slimy voice causing all sorts of warning messages to flood his mind. Rinzler looked down at himself to see he was bolted down on a table with great gashes across his chest. That, at least, explained the pain radiating from every inch of his code, not that he was making a single sound because of it. He only gritted his teeth, refusing to even look the program in the eye who just spoke because something about the traitor felt hard to look at and Rinzler didn’t care to give him the satisfaction no matter what he tried.

Apparently the speaker didn’t like that. He slammed Rinzler’s head down and then yanked him back up by the hair, like CLU had done a thousand times before. Rinzler would have laughed at the meager attempt at cruelty if he was permitted to, or if a circular saw hadn’t appeared at that moment and stopped the laugh in his throat, spinning dangerously close to his eye with an eerie blue light.

I am going to show you what it’s like… To be imperfect, the program simpered. Rinzler’s code raced, he knew was was coming and braced for it, locking his jaw shut just as the saw carved deep into his face and sheared off a swath of voxels, pain exploding from the spot on his jaw and the horrible sound reverberating inside his head -

But the scene stuttered and fizzled, something wrenched at his mind and suddenly he was staring out at the Sea of Simulation in silence, a ghostly burning sensation hot on his face where the saw had just been.

This is it, man, A different, familiar voice said, and Rinzler turned with a start, his words locked up in his throat for a moment before he realized it wasn’t CLU who was speaking… It was Kevin_Flynn.

You know, Seneca said, “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity,” The Creator continued as Rinzler stared at him, frozen in confusion. But I put preparation and opportunity in one place, the Sea of Simulation. I had no idea what would happen...

Rinzler followed his gaze, trying to breathe slowly to settle his still racing code, even though it was silent now and the pain from before only lingered, his face intact. They were at the edge of the Sea of Simulation, at least, that’s what it had to be, but… But it was different than he remembered. The surface of the waters sparkled with the light of the portal from the other side, and the data it fed into the grid felt… Alive.

How was that possible?

But this is where the ISOs came from, Kevin_Flynn explained, even though it was only the two of them and Flynn was the enemy. No one else was there, no other allies, no one important. Rinzler stared in dumbstruck confusion, but Flynn only smiled as he continued. This is what I made, and somehow, it made them.

“It’s beautiful,” Rinzler said. The words had slipped from his mouth before he could stop them, but before Flynn could respond, something jerked in his code. When he turned his face back to Flynn in alarm it wasn’t Flynn there anymore, it was CLU, grinning at him with a particular smile that made all the warning errors that had just ebbed away bombard his processors all over again, only a thousand times worse. Rinzler snapped his mouth shut, even behind the helmet. He would be punished for that, if CLU knew, and CLU always knew, CLU already had his discs! He held both of them in his hand, staring contemptuously at the image of a female program hovering in the air above them with a triangular circuit on her chest.

I can see what Flynn saw in her, but you?! CLU snarled down at him, and Rinzler met his eyes, he had to. Ignoring CLU would only make it worse, and he was already in one of his worst kinds of moods, pacing in a fury overhead with an insatiable look in his eye that made fear twist deep in Rinzlers code, but he couldn’t show it. He could never show it.

After everything I’ve done for you, all the time I’ve spent fixing you, you let her get to you?! My right hand man, my champion, bested by an engineer?!

Rinzler said nothing, he knew better and he already knew he would be punished for this, but he tucked his chin at the admonishment, just enough to show it was acknowledged without making the mistake of taking his eyes off his master. It wasn’t that simple but that didn’t matter. His injuries, his low power reserves, and the number of days he’s been at this had slowed him down, impaired his judgment, but all that was just evidence of how broken Rinzler was, wasn’t it? He knew how this game was played. He had to prove he was worth fixing again before CLU would bother, and this particular rebel was making that a difficult thing for Rinzler to prove. She wouldn’t give up or just turn herself in like he wanted, she had to delay the inevitable. All he wanted to do was get this over with and take a damn sleep cycle, not that his needs ever mattered. But she was competent, anticipating his moves, staying just out of reach and wearing him down, bit by bit, until his reserves were tapped and he was close to crashing and then…

Something happened, but he didn’t know what. That part of his memory was empty and blank, but CLU’s fury now and the warning errors flashing across his display, highlighting a chunk of voxels somehow missing from his side, told him enough. He had been on a mission, and he had failed. Thats what mattered.

No can do, buddy, CLU continued dangerously, shaking his head as he paced, then suddenly halted and became unnervingly calm. He turned to Rinzler with that grin, that terrible, predatory grin, and Rinzler forced himself to stay still on his knees instead of reel back, to freeze in place instead of fall apart, even as a voxel fell from his side and plinked against the ground, rolling towards CLU.

CLU let out a cold single chuckle at it and brushed it away with the side of his foot. So here’s how this is going to work. No rest, no repairs, until you fix your little mistake. Get back out there, bring me their leader and derezz the rest. I need to have a little chat with her I think, you understand, right?

Rinzler nodded his head. He understood perfectly well.

Good, CLU said in a dark undertone, closing the gap between them. After that… CLU raked a finger affectionately down the side of Rinzler’s cheek, tugging at the edges of the scar and sending his processors grinding, even though Rinzler refused to wince. The horrible grin tightened on CLU’s face at the sound. I’ll decide what you deserve. I’m a nice guy, Rinzler, so tell you what, if you don’t fuck up again maybe I’ll even -

“Tr-Rinzler?”

As suddenly as the memories overwhelmed him, Rinzler was yanked back from them to the present, skin tingling where the old injuries had been and processors grinding as loudly as they had in the vision.

“I guess that sound means you’re awake,” Beck yawned, finally pulling his hand back from Rinzler’s grip as he stretched his arms overhead.

Rinzler swallowed hard, scrambling internally for what was left of that paused memory and shutting it down. He knew what happened next. Unlike the old strange shards this had started with, that memory was perfectly clear, most of the ones from his thousand cycles with CLU were, but he still didn’t want to see it or feel it or relive it ever again…

“Hey, you okay?” Beck asked naively.

Rinzler looked away.

“Still tired?” Beck said softly, and Rinzler just nodded, burying the unfinished file deep in his code. It was as good an excuse as any. Beck yawned again, but rolled lazily up onto his feet and offered Rinzler his hand. “Me too,” He muttered. “Hell of a night.”

That was an understatement, but rather than voice it, Rinzler just took the programs hand and let himself be hoisted to his feet.

“Come on. I’ve got some energy drinks stored in the next room, you look like you could use some,” Beck continued. “I know I can.”

Rinzler only responded with a low grunt that almost matched his processors, which has settled back into their usual clicking since the barrage of unwanted memories subsided. He let himself be led away from the healing chamber room, through a doorway and into another part of the hideout, where the ceiling was higher and the light overhead brighter than the one he woke up in.

“Red kind or blue kind?” Beck asked, stopping in front of a clear pane in the wall, full of vials.

“No,” Rinzler griped after a couple silent moments.

“Well, I don’t have gold,” Beck shrugged, grabbing one of the blue ones and holding it out to him, as if he did this every damn day. Like bringing enemy programs to some secret hideaway, letting his guard down and offering them resources like energy that they obviously hadn’t earned was just part of a normal millicycle for the Renegade. “That stuff is nasty anyways,” Beck continued. “You used to like this flavor… If you remember that.”

Rinzler stared down at the little glowing vial in his hand without taking it, perplexed, then shook his head.

“What, why not?” Beck blurted out, his eyebrows shooting sky high like this was some sort of shock. “Your circuits are still dimmed, you need something.”

“I…” He started, but how would he even explain it? That he didn’t deserve it, that he had failed? He’d failed CLU, he’d failed Flynn, it didn’t even matter which master won in the end because they were both dead, weren’t they? Rinzler had failed! The conflict and confusion he felt over the new or… Or old jagged shards of broken data pieces didn’t matter if he didn’t have anyone to go back to anyways, no master, no orders, no purpose, he was -

“Hey, why don’t you sit back down for a minute,” Beck interrupted again, and Rinzler realized he’d gone stiff again while his processors ground furiously. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s fine,” Rinzler rasped.

“I don’t think so. Does it hurt?”

What the hell kind of a question was that? What didn’t hurt? He was supposed to hurt! Especially now, after he failed, he deserved to never have them repaired, that was the whole point-

“I want to help you, but I can’t if I don’t know what -“

“You can’t!” Rinzler snarled in pain, lunging at Beck and batting the energy out of his hand, but he didn’t even draw his discs, because… Because why? Because Beck thought they were friends? Was he really that desperate? Fuck, CLU would…

And just like that, CLU’s predatory grin flickered into his mind. It only lasted a nano, but that nano was enough and he felt himself glitch, felt that familiar fury and fear take hold. A dull ache shot up his knees as they hit the floor, his head bowed automatically and his jaw clamped shut, holding in a scream behind his teeth-

“Can you tell me what’s going on? I promise I’m not gonna hurt you-“

You really like testing me man, and I gotta say, it’s getting pretty old, CLU’s voice scraped at his code.

“Talk to me, say something,” Beck said in alarm from somewhere far away, but CLU sang right over it with horrible glee.

Ah ah ah! Your loyalty is mine, but apparently you need some help remembering that, buddy, so hold still-

“Rinzler! Come on, snap out of it!”

Then several things happened at once. CLU reached to yank his discs off his back just as his visage flickered and faded, the scream Rinzler tried to keep strangled erupted from his throat, and he whipped his discs away from CLU’s ghostly fingers in panic, activating them. His skin burned, his code raced, error messages blinded his vision and CLU’s laughter rang in his ears as he swung them through the air in a rage to make everything go away! He would cut it all to voxels if he could, all the old memories, the useless directives, the forbidden stores of energy and the rebels that made his job so much more difficult than it had to be and the humiliating orders CLU gave and everything that hurt! It was better like this, he was better, a weapon, unfeeling, nothing more, just like CLU wanted…

Then his disc collided with another, a rebel, but that didn’t matter, he’d left plenty of them a pile of voxels before when they were stupid enough to stand in his way and he’d do it again! There was nothing but CLU’s ever increasing laughter in his ears reminding him exactly what he was meant for as he twisted easily in the air, ducked a blow from the unlit disc and brought his own up against the programs shoulder, eliciting a yelp, then sank a second deep into their thigh. I obey CLU, the directive whispered. I fight for C-

THE USERS-

Rinzler froze rigid and earned himself a kick to the chest, which didn’t hurt but sent him stumbling back. It was hardly a setback, he pulled his disc back to strike again-

“Please!” Beck begged, standing on shaking legs in the middle of the wrecked room. “This isn’t you! I know it’s not, I don’t want to fight you!”

Rinzler held his shot, the conflict in his code screaming.

“It’s not you,” Beck - BECK! panted, lowering his disc and taking a limping step forward on a leg with a huge gash in it, making Rinzler nearly glitch all over again. “It’s okay, I… I’m sorry I pushed…”

No no no, not Beck, not his… his friend, shit he shouldn’t even have a friend, he only needed CLU didn’t he?! He only loved CLU?! But when more loose voxels shook loose from Beck’s damaged leg Rinzler rushed forward and caught him under the arm before he could think about that, unwilling to let him fall.

“Thanks,” Beck said, slinging the arm around Rinzler’s shoulder and sucking in a shaky breath. “I… Knew there was a reason I avoided fighting you.”

Rinzler ran a quick scan over Beck as he held him up, but the result didn’t make him feel any better. There was more damage than just the leg. Beck was sliced up badly. He’d been a good enough combatant to just barely avoid instantly lethal damage, but he wasn’t stable, he still held his disc uselessly at his side…

“You didn’t activate your disc,” Rinzler said accusingly.

“Nope.”

“Why?” He asked, wincing a little at how strained the word came out.

“I said I wouldn’t hurt you,” Beck replied, as if that somehow explained everything.

“This is different,” Rinzler snapped. “I could have-“

“I’m okay,” Beck wheezed.

“Liar.”

“Just need to see Paige, she… She can fix me,” Beck told him patiently, doing his best to stay upright. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

Rinzler wasn’t about to believe his friend about that in the first place, but the nano Beck tried to take another step, his leg crumbled below the knee and he inhaled with a sharp hiss.

“That… Isn’t good,” Beck pointed out stupidly.

The pang in Rinzler’s chest tightened. That was the understatement of a thousand cycles, Beck was really hurt, not even the healing chamber could rezz up an entire limb! Maybe Rinzler shouldn't care, just a day ago he would have been happy to see the Renegade derezzed himself but that… that couldn’t happen now, he couldn’t let it! He thought as quickly as his damaged processors would let him, trying to think of anything that might stabilize him, that might help.

“Where’s Paige?” Rinzler finally growled in irritation.

Beck looked up at him, surprise twisted on his face along with the obvious pain he was in, but after a few nanos hesitation, he dropped him a ping. Rinzler took a quick moment to pull it up on the map and rolled his eyes when he saw its location. They’d suspected the clinic was a hub of rebel activity for some time, but never got any concrete proof. Typical.

“Don’t die,” Rinzler scoffed, hoisting Beck’s arm up so it sat more snugly along his shoulders and wrapping his own arm around Beck’s waist, making the damn Renegade chuckle.

“I’ll do my best,” He said a little too cheerily for the circumstances, in Rinzler’s opinion, not that his thoughts really mattered. “But if this doesn’t work… It’s not your fault. Okay?”

Rinzlers processors stuttered on that statement. Not his fault. That couldn’t be right, everything was his fault, he literally attacked Beck just now, didn’t he? His discs cut into Beck’s code, riddling his body with pixelated gashes and slicing off his leg, how could this possibly not be his fault?! But instead of argue with Beck about that he focused on the first part of the statement.

“It will work,” Rinzler said stubbornly, dragging his idiot friend back the way they came.

They made it down to the garage without Beck losing any more voxels and managed to stuff what was left of him into a light runner of Becks that Rinzler rezzed up, one of the annoying modified vehicles that somehow functioned in the outlands, another thing that made the rebels and the Renegade notoriously difficult to snuff out. They peeled out of the hangar with Rinzler at the controls, whipping through the outlands, but halfway back to civilization Beck’s head drooped dangerously.

“Stay with me,” Rinzler barked automatically, and Beck jerked up with a start.

“‘Ts alright… Just tired. Gonna close my-“

“No,” Rinzler snapped, pushing the runner for more speed. “Stay awake.”

“But-“

“Keep talking.”

“Mmmmkay,” Beck muttered groggily. “If you a-say…” But he droned off. When Rinzler looked over in alarm the programs eyes were open and still bright, but full of confusion.

“C-C-Can’t-“ His words malfunctioned, and Rinzler gritted his teeth, biting back the dread rising in his chest, the things still lurking below the surface that could compromise him all over again when Beck needed him! But Beck kept fighting with himself, trying to form some sort of words even as the gash from his shoulder splintered up his throat, and his eyelids fluttered.

Useless, CLU’s voice whispered cruelly in his head, but there was another voice, too. It was so similar to CLU’s, but with a naive warmth that CLU never had.

Nothing you can’t protect us from, it said. You keep the grid safe…

Flynn. He would never listen to what Flynn said that he was, not unless he was forced to like he had been in the skies above the sea, but he did need to protect someone, didn’t he? He had to keep Beck safe even if he didn’t quite understand why, and before Rinzler realized exactly what happened, that sliver clicked into place. He felt it snap along the edges of an empty part of his inner workings, making the gaping swath of missing code there just a little bit smaller, a little less incomplete, and the realization raced through him with a jolt.

“I -“ He started like he had before, taking a steadying breath this time, but Beck had to stay awake and Rinzler didn’t know what else to do or to say to make sure that he did. “I have old data. Like the file of… You,” He told the other program with great effort. “But it’s broken.”

“Mmm!” Beck grunted enthusiastically, screwing up his face for a second and managing to eek out a single word. “What?”

Rinzler almost smirked at the way he said it, the way he gestured with a hand like he wanted him to go on in spite of the cracks in his code, but the contents of those fragments… Well, some were fragments and some were just memories of CLU inserting themselves where they didn’t belong, but no one should ever know about those.

“Flynn rambling by the sea,” He said bitterly. “And…”

He reached up to towards the scar spanning from his jaw up his eye, almost into his hairline, as if to touch it if it weren’t for his helmet in the way. It was difficult to explain the first one from when he woke up this millicycle. He hadn’t gotten a look at the programs face, but he knew it wasn’t CLU. CLU might have recreated those scars on him as a punishment or for fun or both, but someone else put the originals there, someone who wanted to show him what it was like to be imperfect.

It had been a stupid venture, honestly. Rinzler was never perfect, no matter how much CLU tried to make him that way.

Beck, though, seemed to catch his intention. “Sca-a-car?” He stammered out, and Rinzler tucked in his head.

“Before CLU,” he mumbled. “There was someone else.”

Beck nodded repeatedly, but the annoying cheerfulness vanished from his face as he did. Rinzler looked at him quizzically.

“You know who it was?” He guessed, and Beck nodded even faster, even with his voice apparently locked up in his throat again. A second later he winced in pain, and Rinzler tried hard not to think about what would happen if those cracks spread any father.

“Almost there,” He grunted, flying into the mess that was Argon City. The blast from the battle had destroyed much of it but he zipped around the debris at a speed that would get a normal program detained. A steely look fell over Beck's face as they got closer. Rinzler hardly dared to say anything else, glancing over at his friend every couple of nanos to make sure he was still awake, until finally they swung down an unassuming alleyway Rinzler had definitely investigated before and came to a stop outside a set of unremarkable doors. There still wasn’t time to waste. He derezzed the light runner and caught Beck under the arm again in one motion, hefting him towards the doorway with his processors grinding in distress over the Renegade, of all programs. They only made it a couple of steps before the doors burst open and a trio of programs with green circuits hurried out.

“Gridbugs, his whole leg-“

“I’m rezzing us a stretcher.“

“You’re such an idiot,” One of the two female programs said worriedly, pushing past the others and cupping Beck’s cheek gently in her hand. Rinzler scanned them all quickly for their tags and found that was the one called Paige.

Beck grinned guiltily up at Paige and tried to speak again, but she cut him off.

“Don’t talk, for users sake, you’ll make it worse! We’re taking him to bay eleven. I’ll tend to him personally,” She addressed them all seriously. The other two agreed, pulling up the stretcher, and one tried to pry Beck from his grip but Rinzler snarled at them.

“I’ll do it,” He bit out before they could touch him. They might be medics but he couldn’t tell how competent they were at their jobs by a simple scan and he was not risking one of them damaging Beck any worse! Beck had said Paige would fix him, so Paige could, but the others were out, at least until Rinzler was sure they could be trusted.

One of them gasped but Rinzler ignored it, focusing on getting Beck lowered safely onto the stretcher so he didn’t jostle his injuries. Beck gave him a grateful pat on the arm as he let himself lay flat.

“Isn’t that…” The other program whispered.

“It is,” Paige said sourly.

Rinzler stiffened, but Beck’s eyes went wide and he pushed himself back up, shaking his head and grabbing hold of Rinzler’s hand for them to see.

“Lay down,” Rinzler snapped at him.

“Beck thinks they’re friends,” Paige translated in a voice thick with sarcasm, but Beck nodded enthusiastically before flopping back down on the stretcher.

“Friends?!” One squeaked.

The other shook her head, staring at Rinzler with a look that seriously put her at risk of losing a limb herself. “His circuits…”

But the growl building in Rinzler’s throat was cut off as Paige pushed the stretcher firmly forward and Beck tugged Rinzler’s hand along with it. He didn't bother giving the gawking programs another glance as they marched briskly past several small bays draped in sleek white curtains, quickly turning into the one Paige had mentioned before, Bay 11. She rezzed a curtain of their own with a flick of her fingers on a data pad and turned to Beck with white hot glare.

“I should really wait to fix your voice last so I can have the chance to tell you just how stupid this latest stunt of yours was!” She scolded him, snatching his disc when he offered it and pulling up the readout with narrowed eyes. Several places in his code were lit up in red. Even on his own, Rinzler could tell how much of a mess that was. “But you already know that, don’t you? And you’ll tell me you know the risks, it’s worth it, remind me where I came from,” She went on as Beck’s face crumpled, looking up at her with big doe eyes she seemed intent on not meeting as she fiddled with his code. “Yeah, I’m right aren’t I? See? I know you, you don’t even need to talk!”

She pulled Beck upright and pressed his disc into his back again, and suddenly the edges of his crumbling leg smoothed out and the splintering cracks up his throat knit back together. Beck slumped forward and let out a breath of relief.

“But I’m not that mean,” Paige sighed, dropping her head into a hand and closing her eyes. “You’re stable. It’ll take much more time to spin up an entire leg.”

“Paige, I-“

“We’ll talk later,” She told him. “Alone.”

Beck ducked his head and swallowed hard, nodding once, but looked back up cautiously after a moment.

“What?” Paige huffed.

“Just…” Beck started, squirming a little under Paige’s intense gaze, but he looked from Rinzler to Paige and that same stubborn look from earlier settled on his face. “He saved me, Paige.”

“After you saved him.”

“So we saved each other-“

“No I just saved you. Idiot,” Paige said crossly from the corner of his bed. “You had another half-milli if you didn't move and make it worse at best.”

A shiver went through Rinzler’s code hearing that. He still didn’t understand why it should matter, why he should care, he’d even known Beck was in bad shape before the medic confirmed it but the idea still felt…. bad. Very bad. Rinzler nodded in grim agreement with Paige. “I hurt you,” he croaked out, staring hard at the floor.

“See?!” Paige cried. “Even he knows it!”

“And then he got me here. To you, to fix me,” Beck said pleadingly. “It was an accident, I promise. Things are different. And you’re right, this is worth it, just… Give me a chance to show you, okay?”

Paige crossed her arms over herself and went quiet, lips pursed as she glanced between the two of them, so for a few nanos the only sound was Rinzler’s clicking that blended in with the other pieces of equipment in the clinic making beeps and clicks and whirring sounds of their own.

“I believe you but… Things… Aren’t going to go back to normal, Beck. And you getting hurt isn’t going to change that,” She said heavily, as if every word was a deliberate choice. “I have other patients, I’ll get back to your leg later on. Just… Consider yourselves even, now. Please.”

The implications of that made something unpleasant prickle at Rinzler’s code, but Paige leaned down and planted a little kiss on Beck’s forehead that made a smile spread across his face in spite of it all. Beck closed his eyes and leaned into it for a nano before she pulled away, shooting Rinzler a last warning look before parting the curtain and leaving the pair of them alone.

Before Rinzler could analyze that interaction too deeply, Beck gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, even as the smile fell off his face.

“Even,” He chuckled to himself under his breath, so quiet Rinzler could barely hear it. “Not even close.”

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

This took me FOREVER and I rewrote it so many times but it kept giving me unexpected twists and turned out so different than my outline so, enjoy the seven layer angst dip, there’s soooo many levels of it! And again this fandom is the sweetest place, you make it so easy to want to keep writing, even if it can be slow going! Thanks for the love! 🩵🧡🥰

Chapter 1: Sure, just shatter the box of repressed memories. What could go wrong?

Chapter 2: Yeah, this makes a lot of sense. Let’s save the guy who’s constantly trying to kill us!

#Rinzler is not okay #But he has a friend now #Which is confusing #Beck is not okay either #Paige puts up with so much she’s a saint #These blorbos need hugs #i like writing in this fandom cause the people are so sweet #And the angst hits like a mf #tron fanfic #tronzler #tron beck #tron legacy #tron uprising #tronblr #tron fanart #tron fanfiction

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sorserah · 9 months ago

Text

Chapter 5: The Bodyguard and the Merc

Outsider No More | Goro Takemura & Female V/OC

And then he understands, clearly understands what she had been feeling, trying to tell him. And he now realizes too, he does not want to lose her either.

An interpretation of how a romance between Takemura and Corpo Female V could have been. Changing between Vs and Takemuras POV. Mostly following the main story of the game, adding bits and pieces here and there for a little bit more depth. So spoilers ahead.

18+, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Romance, Panic Attacks, Death, Blood and Injury, Corpo V (Cyberpunk 2077, Takemuras POV, Vs pov, Alcohol, Sexual Tension, Flirting, Denial of Feelings, Internal Conflict, they are both idiots, Guilt, Overthinking, Smut, Sex, Romantic, Gestures

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28434627/chapters/70742016#workskin

Day 1

V's phone rings shortly after she stumbles through her apartment door. It was just past midnight. She drops down onto her couch ungracefully as she takes the call. "Yea?" "Takemura here, I called someone who wants to meet with you, hear you out. Japantown in three days." She rubs her forehead and eyes, the world is still spinning pretty badly. "Sounds great I guess..." She croaks. Takemura tilts his head, he seems concerned „Is everything alright, V?“ „Yes, I feel great. I just had one drink too much I think, met with some old friends tonight.“ „Ah, yes the meeting you talked about earlier. Then have a good night V, I will send you the exact coordinates.“

He waits for her to reply, a particularly strong wave of dizziness hit her and she has to close her eyes for a moment: „Takemura wait, I almost forgot, met someone today, got a meeting tomorrow. Regarding Hellman…Strong lead, you wanna join?“ He seemed to consider it for a moment but then agrees. "Great see you tomorrow, we will meet at 6. Good Night" "Morning or.." but she hangs up, unfortunately, her stomach could no longer withstand the alcohol, so she hastily runs to the toilet to get rid of it. After a few times of vomiting, her stomach seems to have calmed down. She undresses and lies down under the covers.

She really feels better. The funeral at El Coyote Cojo helped more than she thought it would. So many old friends and colleagues had been there, saying nice things, leaving presents. She spent a lot of time drinking with Viktor and talking with Misty. Neither without one or the other, she would be at the point she is now. After a few drinks and tears, she even sat there laughing, joking about Jackie's old lines and best moments. But regardless, silent tears still ran down her cheeks. She can't deny that she could use a good friend by her side, she misses him terribly.

Guess, I am not an option? „Johnny, what the fuck“ she abruptly pulls the blanket up to her chin. Chill V, I know how you look naked. I am in your head, forgot about that? He lights a cigarette. So I guess we like each other now? Yea. Just needed to get used to…you. But can’t deny I'm hella excited to meet Rogue tomorrow, even though the ‘Saka scum will be joining apparently, so we good? She yawns, sure why not and he might be of good use for us you know, don't know much about him yet. She gets comfortable under the cover and after a few more blinks, watching the ads outside of her apartment window, her eyes fall closed.

A ringing in her head and ears lets her wake up unsteadily from her sleep. Fuck. "Huh?" She doesn’t even bother to open her eyes, even through her eyelids she could see that the sun was just beginning to rise. Orange light shone through them. "Takemura here, do we meet in twenty minutes or tonight at 6." Is he serious? Sleepily, with a rough voice, she answers “I know you're not used to living in Night City yet Takemura, and I also know that meetings at Arasaka used to be early in the morning. However, here it's the other way around, everything starts in the evening." Damn, she turns to the other side, so her eyes are no longer flooded with light. „Understood, sorry for waking you, V. Until tonight“ „It is alright, bye.“ Please, we need more sleep.

The next time she’s awake, it’s from the radio Johnny had turned on. He was now kneeling in front of her. Wake the fuck up V, it’s almost 5, time to meet Rogue. Fuck, you tell me I have been sleeping for 15 hours?? Guess we both needed it, he vanished again and with him a part of her headaches. Thirty minutes later she sits in her car dialing Takemuras number. „Hi, where should I pick you up“ „Cherry Blossom Market.“ „See ya in 5“. You really take him with ya, huh? Is it because of his pretty eyes? She shakes her head at his ridiculous comment. Johnny laughed and pulled himself through the gap of the front seats. You can’t lie to me V, I know that you liked what you saw..Oh shut up. Takemura drops into the seat, looking at her. His eyes stood out even more in the red light and thanks to Johnny she was paying more attention to them now. "Where are we going, anyway?" he further inquires as she is already driving down the road. "To the Afterlife." "Should have expected that." "You know this club? Already? Thought you have been here just a few days?" "I try to gather as much information I can. Last time I was there, I have been rather rudely turned down by the Queen of the Fixers. So I am asking myself why should we have any better luck now?" She smirks, "Simple, we have me with us." and she presses on the gas.

The loud bass of a rock song pounds in her ears as she steps through the large double doors with Takemura in tow. „Hey V! Anything special today?“ „Nah, wanted to talk to Rogue.“ Claire looks for two clean glasses under the bar, „a few more minutes I think, she is in a meeting right now. Anything to drink while waiting?“ „Yea, remember the drink of the guy who was here with me?“ „Jackie Welles, sure, uhm Vodka on the rocks, some ginger beer, and lime…“ „and a splash of love…one for me please, or…?“ She looks at Takemura questioning „No, thanks I will pass“ „Come on, it’s on me. If you don’t want any alcohol, maybe something else?“ „Fine. Water please, with a lemon.“

They take a seat next to each other at the bar, „You aren’t from here, are ya?“ Claire asks as she slides over the drinks looking at Takemura „No.“ She looks at V, raises her eyebrows, and she answers by raising her shoulders and contorting her face into a questioning expression. "About the races, have you given it any more thought?" She takes a sip of her drink "Yea, hell, let's do it." "Great! Meet me at my garage some time and we discuss all the detes.” She takes another sip and even though the drink is delicious, her stomach turns when tasting the alcohol in it. She should take a break from drinking. “Seems like Rogue is free now."

She stands, nods to Takemura, and the two of them make their way past the bar, past two men arguing, and up a gallery. Damn, I can’t believe it, Rogue really made it.

"Did you bring the money this time or just your friend for another intimidation attempt? Although I have to tell you, he hasn't had any luck either. “ V notices Takemura making a barely perceptible movement behind her, but no one else seems to pay any attention to him. "No everything is fine Rogue, here is the money." Both of their eyes glow red as the money changes hands. "Preem, one hour and you will get your intel." "Nova, we will wait." As they walk out of the gallery, she sees that the one next to it has just become available and she points to it "We can wait over there more comfortably."

He frowns "Is there also a place here that.... how shall I put it...is less noisy?" with turn she faces him "I know, you get used to the volume eventually." and dismiss it with a wave of her hand "The back rooms are pretty quiet, but I'd have to ask if one is free, they're usually reserved - for real serious biz or personal strip shows." She winks - Takemura doesn’t show any reaction to that - and she turns on her heels once again to ask Claire.

One moment later she and Takemura step through the glass door of the cabin where she, Jackie, T-Bug and Deshawn had met, and they both drop down on the dark couch next to each other. "Ah yes, that's much better.“ Takemura remarks, rubbing his temples “Rogue lives up to her reputation. I'm curious what we will get in an hour.” “That’s why she’s the queen.” The two of them sit in silence for a short time, before Takemura began to speak again: “Night City is very noisy. I’m having trouble sleeping at night. And there is loud music everywhere. It is very different to Japan.” “ I've only been to Konpeki Plaza in Tokyo once, so I don't have much of an idea of how business works there. You never had to go to an underground club or so to do biz, beat someone up or whatever you did at Arasaka?”

Takemura shakes his head. On his own, he didn't seem to reveal very much. Perhaps she should ask more specifically, or break the ice with minor information. "Huh, it's kinda funny, even tho we were both employees there, we lived almost completely different lives. The locations of making the real biz - and with that, I mean under the counter biz - haven’t changed at all for me, just the people. Oh, by the way“ she sends him an attachment „here is a picture of me, a few weeks before my last day.“ She is sitting at her desk, smiling at the camera, her boss behind her, hand on her shoulder. Her hair long, platinum blonde and up in a high ponytail. She is wearing a black dress and heels. „This was before a business lunch in Tokyo. I normally wouldn’t wear dresses like this.“ „You look very different now.“ Takemura admits. „After I got fired, I cut my hair off and dyed it black. Didn’t want to be recognized at all.“ and by now her hair is almost a few inches below her jaw.

Takemura asks curiously „About that, you wanna tell me how and why you got fired?“ he leans his right arm on the backrest and looks at her. She rolls her eyes but smirks, „It’s actually not that thrilling. For context: Actually, I majored in criminal psychology but didn't want to go to the NCPD. Through vitamin B - a guy I met at a bar, Jenkins - I found a job in netrunning , specializing in counterintel, where they were looking for someone with my experience and basic tech knowledge. So I worked for Jenkins for two years, the guy on the photo - complete asshole if you ask me, one of the types that looks like an abuser and probs is about what I heard - there was a Frankfurt thing gone wrong, „ Takemura nods, „Mh, I might have heard of it.“ „Great apparently everyone has. And Abernathy - his boss - heard it, too, told Jenkins to stop doing his biz like this and stole his promotion. Well, and as a man fragile as he was, he felt his ego hurt. And for some reason, I should be the woman of choice to kill Abernathy.” Takemura, now with a serious expression, stroke his beard with his left hand: “You said yes?”

“Well I had to, would've been next otherwise. Problem was, I couldn’t get any more dirty details on our target, how to get this job done quickly, so I asked Jackie if he could help“, she makes a pause, a little sting in her chest, but also a little relief every time she mentions him now, „You do not have to keep talking If you do not want to“ Takemura offers her „No, it’s fine really, got a lot off my chest yesterday…So there I was at Lizzy’s with him and three Arasaka employees - I haven’t seen before - approached me, almost broke my nose, stole the data shard and shut off my cybernetics.“ „They found out?“ „Yea. Abernathy sent them, Jenkins probably got fired too or killed - hopefully. Lost my job that day, almost 200k Eddies, my apartment and cybernetics, also my life almost, if Jackie wouldn’t have been there.“ And she hadn’t saved him, she looks at her lap, again it seems Takemura wanted to make a move but hesitated “Pretty similar on how we met, huh?” She jokes and looks at him. However, his expression was unfathomable. Was there something he wasn’t telling her?

„You two, were close?“ he asked „Yea, really close - not romantically - but closer than best friends…“ though she remembers the kiss they shared one night, even before Jackie got serious with Misty. It was their second contract together, she barely made it out. Drunk on adrenaline and vodka, they sat on the roof above Jackie’s garage, and it just happened. The kiss was short, intense and ended with them both laughing, it didn’t feel right. Two weeks later he asked Misty she remembers how he told her a few weeks ago that he loved her. She clears her throat, now she really didn’t feel like getting carried away…” What about you? Got anyone waitin’ for you in Japan?“

Takemura looks at the glass wall behind her and shakes his head, „No, Arasaka was the only 'family' I had.“ Somehow it seemed to strike her only now that Takemura was in a very similar situation as her. Both of them had lost something incredibly important that day. Without thinking about it, she reaches for his shoulder, pressing lightly, an understanding look on her face „It will get better.“ His bright eyes were inspecting her dark ones once again - intensely. Come on V, please don’t give me this cliché staring at each other’s eyes shit, I’m going to fucking vomit. Besides, the hour is almost over. Hastily, she removes her hand and stand up quickly. “Rogue should have our intel by now.”

Sometime later she and Takemura step outside the Afterlife again. She had problems following Rogues plan since Johnny just couldn’t shut up about her. Takemura hasn’t said a word after they left the private area and has just been listening and accepting the data shard quietly but seemed to be impressed. Now, they both walk silently to the big highway “So. I need to get to Panam ASAP, should I drop you off anywhere on the way? Where are you staying by the way?” “No there is no need, you need to get Hellman quickly. In the Motel at the Cherry Blossom Market.” Oh no. “Damn, you really should get another one. Here..” She sends him some coordinates “the No-Tell Motel. It’s in a similar price range, take one of the top floor rooms, they are quieter. There will be also all kinds of weird biz, but it’s waaaaaay cleaner, promise and less noisy.”

“Thank you, V.” he nods his head slowly while looking for a tram station, looking a little bit lost and she calls her - Jackies - bike. She gets on it and starts the engine, but hesitates to start driving. Her eyes glow red again “And take this. I don’t need it at the moment, it’s my old car. As a borrowed gift for saving my life.” She smiles at him slighly. “I can not take this.” Takemura looks a little uncomfortable “Well, I’m not taking it back now. Just bring it back in a similar shape.” He nods once again and simulates a slight bow “I will. Stay save, V.” She hits the gas of Jackie’s bike and chases along the highway. Johnny appears behind her and holds onto her waist.

Damn, was surprised you didn’t give him your apartment keys too, or blow him right there. He really left an impression on you and I don’t like it.Well, maybe, but I don’t trust him enough for that. Yet you mean, never trusting Suits again, my ass V. She could practically feel him rolling his eyes. “It’s just hard to not trust him”, she mutters to herself. Nevertheless, she feels torn. She hadn't gotten a single new piece of information out of him. Doesn't understand why she suddenly thought this was not that important anymore. Maybe because they were indeed alike in many aspects. A common background, a similar fate, an almost identical goal. She told herself that she wouldn't have noticed his eyes all that much if Johnny hadn't pointed them out to her. After all, what the hell does he know?

Day 2

____________________________________________________

Takemura is sitting on the balcony of his room on the top floor of the No-Tell Motel, his feet up and resting on the railing, eating fried noodles, his rifle leaning next to his chair. It was difficult to get any food down in this city, it tasted all the same, like sawdust and plastic. He is having a hard time controlling himself from throwing his food full force into the canal below him. With each day in Night City as an outcast, he finds it harder to stay calm. Maybe that's why everyone is drinking here.

He rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger and decides that the next time he had a chance to drink with V, he would take up the offer. She had at least been spot on with her recommendation of the hotel. He had slept through the night almost completely in a clean bed and was able to shower extensively this morning, his freshly washed shirt was also swinging from left to right within a small breeze on the balcony. So she probably knows about a place they could find normal tasting food at.

V was currently the only person he had contact with and he didn't expect to get along with her, at all. He had appreciated her giving him information about herself. Although, the conversation about Arasaka and her expulsion had indeed left a bitter aftertaste, very similar to that of the city's food. He had heard of problems here and there in Japan, but Saburo-sama had been in charge of bigger tasks like development, research, and wasn’t involved in any employer business whatsoever, so Takemura had never known what life was like for some of the other employees, but he tried to brush the thought away.

He has to admit that he is also quite impressed with how she had managed to escape Arasaka twice. How much she already had to endure emotionally and now has to again, and how despite everything she is getting things done, that he'd already written off. And even if he had believed that finding Hellman or Miss Parker could be a big problem just a few days ago, he has great confidence in her by now. She had called him in the middle of the night, quickly told him her plan and said she would get back to him around noon. Takemura had been trying to get as much new information as possible alone since then, but no one could tell him more about Evelyn Parker. It was as if she had never existed.

So now he had spent the last few hours waiting in the motel. He put away the barely touched noodles and leaned back in the chair, lost in thought. She had been right that the two of them were in quite a similar situation. He could well understand her grief, and he, too, felt understood. He was glad not to have to work all alone in Night City, even if it had not been easy to ask her about it. Because he had to admit that it was not easy to get along here, which was a new circumstance for him. There were many unspoken rules and customs. And he realized that V was right, that he simply stood out.

There was one thing he didn't really understand, though: the car, had thought about it a lot yesterday when he drove with it through Night City to run some errands. It had been a very sudden and impulsive gesture, for saving her life she said. But he could not yet know how useful the car could be. It hadn't really been easy to get a clear picture of her yet, and that intrigued him. It had not only been his job to physically defend Saburo and train others in doing so but also to quickly assess people and their intentions. Rarely had he been wrong. But she..Thief, ex-corporate netrunner, knowledge in psychology, all just hard skills. Resilient, Preserving and...mhmm. Egoistical, calculating and manipulating? Or honorable, kind and truthful? Maybe a little bit of everything? Hard to say.

Checking out the time - almost 4 p.m - he gets up, throws over his almost dry shirt and leaned over the railing, watching a small boat sailing past the motel. He honestly couldn't wait to meet Hellman and blow off some steam, even if it won't be as satisfying as the revenge on Yorinobu. Just as he was considering exercising his muscles, his phone rings. It was V, out of breath „I got Hellman. Bringing him so the sunset motel, sending you the coordinates.“ Finally. „Great, I will be there as soon as possible. Be careful, V.“ She smiles and winks, „Oh you need to worry less about me than Hellman.” He couldn't help but smile back.

Takemura slams the door of Vs car as he sees her walking up and down a window in one of the upstairs motel rooms. The motel was located a few kilometers outside of town, so it took him some time to get here. With a few big steps he was already at the top of the stairs, eventually standing in front of the door and opening it. V and Hellman are sitting in front of each other. Hellman has his hands bound behind his back and another scrap of fabric around his neck, probably to silence him - if needed. She sits wide-legged on a turned chair, both of her muscular arms casually on the backrest, totally in control of the situation. She no longer wore her shirt - it seemed to be used as a restraint and gag - now she is wearing a top, which exposed half of her back and ribs. Takemura ran his right hand over his beard, his eyes lingering on her bare skin, unintentionally following the curves of her body.

„Good to see you V, quite the view in here.” He walks next to Hellman and crosses his arms, looking at her, she smiles, but Hellman answers first “Takemura?! What the hell is he doing here?” Her gaze briefly switches over to Hellman “Takemura is a very good friend of mine, didn’t I mention it? Thought I would call him, just if you weren’t talkative enough. Plus he has some questions on his own. You play nice, he might even save your ass.” “I wouldn’t count on that.” Takemura replies dryly. Hellman was freaking out, looking right at her “Look, I give you everything you want, but please don’t leave me alone with him. The blueprints, right pocket of my jacket.” Takemura searches his pockets roughly and hands her the data shard.

Her eyes lit up blue as she observes the data, when they turn back to her normal black eyes, they switch to Takemura “I’m done here. What will you do with him?” He answers with an unchanged expression, stonily “I haven’t decided yet.” And continues, looking directly at her “You know I can be impulsive.” She swallowed quickly. "Then feel free to keep me updated, he is all yours. I'll be waiting outside." Hellman looked back and forth between the two of them "No, please, just let me...." but she stuffs the piece of cloth back in his mouth. Takemura looks at her “V, I will remember this.“ And as she walks out of the door, Takemura turns back to Hellman “She didn’t offer you any water I see. Unacceptable. Inhumane.” He walks over to the bureau to lean on it “But that is not me. You will see the difference. I will give you buckets or even a bathtub full with it.” The door closes.

From outside, however, Takemura suddenly heard rumbling and stumbling. „I'll be right back." and he opened the door to check on her, but he didn't see her. Quietly, he closed the door behind him and looked around. He spots her sitting on the bottom steps. Quickly, he was next to her. She is shaking violently and soaked in sweat and dirt, some scratches on her arms. She must have fallen down the stairs. „I don’t want you to see me like this." She mumbles, not facing him. With wobbly legs, she stands up and tries to walk a few steps, but they fail and Takemura had to catch her so that she wouldn't hit the ground again. "Let me help you." She doesn't resist and he carefully leads her to a nearby concrete bench, supporting her by her waist.

Naturally, he takes off his jacket, drapes it over her and kneels down in front of her "It's the biochip, is it not? I did not know it was this bad already." he asks as he scans her face for injuries, none found. She simply nods. "Yea. Thought out of the six months I would start getting problems at month five tops. Unfortunately not." "Can I help you in any way?" he asks concerned. "Noo I...I just need a little time to myself, please." He nods, could understand. "Though, I would advise you to not drive home anymore today. I have rented the room next door for the night. Feel free to sleep there when you are feeling better. If you need anything else, please let me know." He got up, but she takes his hand swiftly - Takemura notices how weak she is - and she looks straight at him "Why are you so nice to me?" "Why wouldn't I be?" he replies, squeezing her hand lightly and walking back to Hellman.

The interrogation didn’t take longer than an hour. He got every last piece of information out of Hellman, including long-forgotten details about Yorinobu stealing the relic, how he did it, who helped, how Hellman found out and managed to vanish. However, while pressing Hellman's head into the bathtub full of water every few seconds, Takemura couldn't get V out of his mind. Eventually, he was satisfied when Hellman was bound and gagged again, sitting on the chair, and he could check on her. He enters their room quietly, it was pretty dark, just one small light next to the second bed was lit up. She is already sleeping peacefully covered by his heavy leather jacket.

Takemura hangs up his soaking shirt, takes the blanket from the lower end of her bed, and carefully cloaks her whole body, before lying down himself. He watches her for a while. It had been shocking to see her so fragile for the second time. Especially the difference from before and the suddenness had concerned him - one moment she was bursting with physical vitality, the next one could be digging her grave. He could tell she is running out of time and he really felt sorry for her. Life often seemed to put obstacles in her way. As he had understood it, there were only a few weeks between her expulsion from Arasaka, the heist that went wrong, and her unfortunate death revelation. A feeling of unfairness rose in him. Sorrowfully, he looks over at her. For his own sake and for hers, he hoped they had more time.

____________________________________________________

Day 3

She wakes up early in the morning, the sun just rising and an orange beam shines through the shutters, a broad-shouldered and dark silhouette throws a shadow at the wall behind her. Takemura. His hair is already in a neat bun, he just put his shirt on and was buttoning it up. Shame she missed that. She observes him before she lays aside her covers - he must have put it over her while she slept - and his jacket and sits up. He turns his head “V, you are awake.” He stands up and walks around his bed to take a seat in front of her. He rests his elbows on his knees leaning closer to her, hands folded under his chin. His shirt is still very much open in the neck and chest area. His cybernetics were curving down his neck and end in a long black plate, similar to the sternum, she can clearly see the outline of his top abdominal muscles.

She swallows and notices a tingle in her chest, fuck, yesterday’s comment finds its way back into her memory, impulsively. “How are you feeling? Did you sleep well?” He asks while inspecting her. “Much better thanks. What about you?” He shakes his head, leans back and continues to button up his shirt, “Hardly, you sometimes scream while you sleep. I do not mind. Had to sleep under similar circumstances before.” “I’m sorry...” “...don’t be, really.” He continues to talk while getting up and putting on his jacket “We are meeting Oda tonight, I have some business to attend to before. Can you drive yourself?” She stretched her back and arms, checking on her control over her own body “Yes, definitely. Feeling in control again.” Takemura nods “Great,” and walks to the door “I will send you the coordinates tonight, if you need any help don’t hesitate to call me. Until tonight, V.” "Wait!" he truns around, hand at the door "The interrogation yesterday was fun, maybe we should do something similar again?" He laughs lightly "I would like that." And he closes the door behind him.

With a groan she lets herself fall backward on the bed. Johnny appears sitting next to her and leans over her face. What the fuck was that? What? First of all 'the interrogation yesterday was fun, maybe we should do something similar again' and most importantly that feeling in your chest. Have you never felt... Fuck, Of course, V! He jumped from the bed, furious, she sits up. The problem is “I” never felt lust for a Corporat. And how did this feeling so suddenly even comes from?! She frowns and responds angrily. Oh, you saint, newsflash for you Johnny, you are in my body and if you remember I used to be a Corporat, too. She gets up, walks closer to him and stings her finger in his chest, and you know what? With this body, “I” fuck whoever I want whenever I want. He slaps her hand away, get some new clothes you smell like shit and vanishes. As much as she hates agreeing with Johnny right now, he was right. Getting Panams car back, slaughtering the Raffens and Kang Tao, interrogating Hellman and losing control yesterday had left traces of sand, blood and other stuff on her clothes.

Though his words got her thinking. Technically it had been three days Takemura and her first spoke. And in those three days she hadn't learned much about him, but she had gotten a feeling about him. Even if this is completely subjective, of course. It was strange, she finds it easy to get in contact with people and also to get along well with them in a very short time - it had not been any different in her lifetime, due to work - and quickly crushing on people and flirting with them wasn't exactly new to her either. But the question she asks herself now is: was that it or is there more? Because somehow a feeling is creeping into her mind that goes beyond that, more in the direction of... well... trust and security. Two attributes she had found in only a few people in Night City until now.

She washes her face quickly in the bathroom - there will be enough time to shower in her apartment later - and she heads down the stairs to the small weapon trader. “You selling clothes, too?” She asks. The trader looks at her from head to toe, “Got only a few here, take a look.” She digs through the box of clothes and finds rather tight, but very stretchy black pants with leather patches on knees and thighs. In addition, a golden bra that reaches below her ribs, she inspects it. „It is reinforced, right?“ „Yup. Some claim it’s bulletproof but I wouldn’t count on it.“ „Preem, I will take both.“ She puts her new clothes on her bike to her coat and starts her way back to her apartment.

Once again she is sitting in the shower of her apartment, the water that disappeared down the drain, brown, yellow, dark red. Finally, she was alone after a few days, even Johnny isn't talking to her and finally, she can let the built-up emotions run free. Last night had come upon her again and with it the feeling of no longer being able to control herself, of being completely at Johnny's mercy. It didn't help that now every few days panic rose in her chest, choking off her breath. It was all just too much for one person, wasn't it? And the thought of not being around any more...With the water running and the radio turned on in the next room, she presses her face into her knees and cries without restraint. Sometimes she was surprised at herself, how she coped with everything that happened to her in the last days. But it wasn’t - isn’t - anything but easy.

Additionally, the pain of her loss kept coming up, the feeling of being in debt to others - especially Viktor and Takemura - and the feeling of being a burden to them and her other friends when she suddenly loses control over her body. Needing their help desperately to find a solution. A few minutes passed and the shaking and hasty breathing slowly decrease. She gets up and runs cool water all over her tear-swollen face. She walks out of the shower and in front of the mirror, looking at herself. "Get it together. You aren't dead yet." As much as it does her good to isolate herself from time to time and let her emotions run free, it also feels important to actually try to do something about it. Though it’s much harder.

Completely freshened up, a little freer from tension and feeling a lot more like her old self, she strolls alongside the glowing floor in Japantown near Jig-Jig street and decides to buy some coffee before she waits at the location where she and Takemura have agreed to meet. Just before the small coffee stand, she sees Johnny casually leaning against a wall on the other side. "Hi, I'd like two iced coffees please." Wow, first your car and now coffee V, I'd do better than that. She ignores him. Come on V, I bet you can't keep this up for long. She continues walking towards the meeting spot and turns on her internal radio. Johnny appeared in front of her every few steps, grimacing and silently forming some rather violent insults. Inside a tunnel, she loses her patience and pauses the music.

Okay, spit it out asshole, what do you want? However, she doesn’t let him get a word in edgewise and is now mimicking him. V, I have the emotional maturity of a ten-year-old who has just been told that he is grounded, she grimaces and rubs her eyes ironically. V, unfortunately, I can only think in black and white and put everyone in the same box. Oh V, how can you think of allying with a corpo or fuck him, because I - as someone who lives rent-free in your head - has the right to decide that, and she shows him her right middle finger, the other hand is unfortunately occupied with coffee. For a moment she thinks she and Johnny are about to attack each other, but he just smirks, shows her both middle fingers and disappears. Huh. With easier steps now, she walks along the rest of the tunnel, follows the canal a bit and finally sits down on the concrete barrier.

She doesn’t have to wait long until she hears her car, it stops in front of her and Takemura climbs out, her heart pausing for a second. “It is good to see you, V. You look a lot better.” He leans over the concrete barrier with his arms, right next to her, facing the canal. “As much as I'd love to return the compliment...but you honestly look pretty beat up.” She hands him one of the coffees “What happened?” He turns around, resting his back against the concrete “You see a man robbed of his implants, money and dignity. Look well.” She snorts, he looks at her angrily “Sorry Goro, but been there, done that. It will get better. Here...” She nudges his crossed arms with the coffee, he takes a sip and contorts his face “This one is already cold.” “Yea but it’s cold on purpose. You wanna tell me you never had an iced coffee, not even in summer?”

He shakes his head, but takes another sip “Guess it might be not so bad if you get used to it.” She smiles “See.” He turns sideways facing her, “There is something I wanted to ask you. Next time we meet...Do you know a place where we can get good-tasting foods? Everything here tastes like sawdust and plastic. Maybe something not local?” Wait. Might he be asking what she thinks he is? Or does she just want him to be asking what she thinks he is? She jumps down, mirroring his gesture, deciding to be bold about it. “Are you asking me to invite you to a date because you don’t know where we should go if you would ask me out?” She looks up at him, defiantly. He frowns “Are you mocking me V?” “A bit yea.” She winks, his face relaxes again and he, too, is now showing a bit of a smile. The first time she sees him smiling she thinks. “But as it happens, I know just the place. Hope Sushi is fine?” “Real or fake fish?” He asks skeptically, but rows back immediately, when he sees the expression on her face “Sorry, I will try to keep an open mind.“ “So, then we...” but they were interrupted by an arriving car.

V and Takemura observe the car as it makes a u-turn and the engine is shut off a few meters away. She hops back onto the barrier. “By car, a good sign. Usually, he is camouflaged.” As the man shuts the door of his car, Takemura walks a few steps towards him. Both of them bow to each other. “Takemura-san.” “Oda.” “Is this her, your thief?”

She rolls her eyes, but Takemura answers first. „She is my witness, V.“ Gently she tilts her head, „I am V, thank you for hearing me and Goro out.” “So speak. I hear you know things.” She looks at Takemura, he nods encouragingly. She starts explaining herself, as respectfully as possible. “Konpeki Plaza, I was there that night when it happened. First it looked like your typical family quarrel, until - unfortunately for all - Yorinobu lunged at Saburo, choking him...“ Oda I interrupts her, his voice furious “Silence. Not one word more. You will bring death to your door.” He adds with a cold voice. Immediately after Oda voices this threat, Takemura moves closer to her and places himself between her and Oda, his arms crossed, facing Oda. Former bodyguard, huh, she can't help but feel a little safer.

“But it is the truth, Hanako-sama must hear it.“ Takemura insists. “My one job is to keep her save in this city, forgotten by the gods.” “Is she in danger?” “Now? No. Yet, during the parade to honor Arasaka-sama, most certainly.” Takemura seems to grow impatient: “I bring you this witness to his murder and you only care about a silly parade?!” “Correct, unlike you I have not yet failed to keep my oath to my duty.” That wasn’t fair to him and she barges in: “At least he is trying to do something. You are just ignoring the truth.” and turning to Oda, Takemura adds coldly “You will regret those words.”

"The only thing I regret is coming here to meet you. There is a price on your head, I’m doing you a favor not cutting it off and bringing it straight to Yorinobu-sama.“ After a threat like this, she would normally start shooting, but that is in no ones interest right now. However, Takemura made a move towards Oda and she decides to distract the two from each other, she jumps down the concrete barrier stepping between Oda and Takemura, fully aware it is considered rude and dangerous for her.

"Oda, you are an Arasaka soldier! This is not a request. We remind you of your duty to be truthful to your superiors." It worked, Takemura looked at her and stepped away from Oda, closer to her. Oda broke of his rampage and faces her. "I did not come here to be lectured by a thief." Now that was too much even for her patience. "I am tired of being called a thief. Wasn't always what I am now. And your friend here didn't always look like a bum. Feel free to join us. Plenty of room at the bottom of the heap. Not enticed? Then do your duty. Tell Hanako what nobody else wants to hear!" Oda turns around without saying a word and getting back into his car.

Takemura starts talking again first. “Be safe out there my friend. We are all so far from home here.” then turns to V a small smile on his face "That should be to him, as you say, food for thought. Interesting to see you more from that side too." "Just gotta tell it like it is sometimes." "It is a shame nothing will come of it." "How come?" "It should have been obvious. Oda is a perfectionist. He most fears to make a mistake." V had calmed down by now.

V pats Takemura on his shoulder, resting her hand there, and asks rhetorically “Yea. And by the way, fine friend there. Got anymore? And thanks by the way, that you told me we are going to meet Hanakos bodyguard before the actual meeting.“ He shakes his head “Alas, only him and I am sorry V, I thought you could back out. He is very dangerous after all.” He nods in the direction of her car and they both get in. She closes the passenger door, “It’s fine, but please be more open to me from now on, since I am trying to do the same." Takemura nods „I am sorry V. I will try my best.“ "How do you know him anyway?” "He was one of my students, I trained him to be Hanako-samas bodyguard." V whistles, "You have succeeded in any case. I was a bit scared to be honest. You both make the same intimidating impression the first time one meets you." "Only the first time?" Takemura asks.

V shrugs "Depends on your mood I guess. You have been kind to me the last days." He nods, " In Japan, we try to show respect and kindness to everyone. At least most of the time. Quite the opposite of this city. Odas seems to have forgotten this as well." "At least we tried." He seems to consider something “We tried yes, but we didn’t fail. We obtained something very useful.“„What do you mean?“ Takemura turns on his seat, facing her “What Oda said. They return to Tokyo after the parade. Do you not see? The parade. This could be our chance. If you could get to Hanako-sama somehow...” She snorts “Sure, good idea. Whatcha gonna do? Jump from a balcony to her airship and kidnap her? Oh, wait, you could offer her tea and we will be sitting at a table together talking calmly about everything.” Takemura looks at her, earnestly. Her smile vanishes, “Wait, Goro, this was a joke. You can’t be seriously considering this. You don’t have your implants. That straight up sounds like a suicide mission.” Takemura lets himself fall back into the seat, massaging his eyes “You are right. We must do a proper reconnaissance first. We need a map of Japantown, as well as more details about the airships.” “Hold on.” He faces her again “It is your turn to call on friends, V. Do her know a fixer who can help?”

She stares at him with a slightly opened mouth. She surely didn’t expect that. She did notice, - additionally to him telling her - that he can be impulsive, yes, but she thought it was less serious. She thought he was more...rational regarding every aspect. That all of his decisions were purely intended by analyzing and thinking and not at all intuitively and impulsive. But to be honest, she feels intrigued by this new discovery and couldn’t deny herself a cheeky grin. “I know just the right dame - Wakako Okada. Runs a pachinko parlor on Jig-Jig street.” “We must pay this woman a visit. Will you join me?” „Sure.“ he smiles, too, “Thank you V” and starts the engine.

„Jazz, really?“ She asks as the radio starts playing and Takemura turns her car around, he shrugs “It is very calming. But change it to Rock or Night FM, I enjoy them too.“ “No, it’s fine.” They drive back through the tunnel. Takemura breaks the silence “So...Jig-Jig Street, what is this name?“ She dismisses the question with a wave of her hand „Just a Night City name.“ He frowns, “Beware you mock me...too often.” „Didn’t mean it like that, it’s really just how it is.“ "Mhm." The two of them ride in silence for a few minutes, while she thinks about the conversation they had with Oda. As Takemura has already confirmed to her, Oda has been his only friend and now - in hindsight - she can kinda understand why he even considers a suicide mission like the one they are going after, what choices does he have from his point of view?

“How are you feeling?” She interrupts the silence, “Fine. Why the sudden concern?“ “I am just asking. I mean we practically spent the last three days together, you are stranded here in Night City and just wondering how you feel.” „I apologize, that came off wrong. I am simply not used to questions like this. People like me...We either do well or we are in a grave. So it is not easy for me to talk about how I feel, especially when I do not feel so good.” She feels a sudden rush of compassion and affinity. The last hour they had talked more than in the last three days, had already gotten to know him better. They both do struggle in similar ways, she thinks.

Maybe if she opens up first it would be easier for him? “I know that feeling, it’s basically the same when you work as a corpo, well and as merc, here in NC. But you know what,I..." she hesitates for a second, this wasn't easy for her either "I feel like shit. I really do. I am dying, I have no plan whatsoever on how to stop this and I’m still grieving, even if I tell myself that everything is okay.” He waits a short time before responding “I feel like shit, too. I did not feel so powerless in decades. I do not know where to sleep, I am followed, need to blend in somehow, which is difficult as you might imagine. It...how would you say it...straight-up sucks, I wish I could delta.” She laughs. "But I am also grateful that you are here to support me V. That we share this mission." he adds. She quickly looks over at him, but his eyes remain on the road.

“So where will you be sleeping next then?” “I do not know. I can not go back to the No-Tell Motel. As I returned, the room was destroyed, searched. They are still looking for me.” V, please don’t. „You could use my apartment. I’m not even there most of the time and if I am, I’ve got a bed and a couch, hell we might even shoot them right there.” Takemura smiles lightly but shakes his head “No, V, I cannot accept this. You gave me so much already.” She turns in her seat. “You can and you will. You saved my life, helped me yesterday too. And as much as you need me...Well, I need you, too.” For a split second, his eyes wander from the road to hers, but she couldn't tell what is going on within them and he doesn’t say anything. Hastily she adds “And, you know, I still have to follow so many leads, for this biochip thing. I just have a feeling that Hanako will be definitely worth a shot.” “Mhm.” Takemura nods, “Thank you. I will consider your offer.”

Wakako is on the phone as they enter her office. Takemura follows V closely behind. “V, so nice to see you. And your charming friend is?” He steps forward and greets her in Japanese “Goro Takemura. The honor is mine Okada-San.“ „Haaa, a true gentleman you got there. He's not on the market right now by any chance?“ Takemura looks at V confused, she shrugs and answers her a little too snippy “Em, let’s just say no, he isn’t.” “What a shame. And shame that he is hunted by all the Arasaka tin soldiers. And you, V, ” she stands up leaning forward in her desk, her voice not at all sweet and welcoming anymore, “bring him to my door. Give me one good reason I am not calling the proper authorities.”

V walks ahead, sits on Wakakos desk and counter “if you would have intended to do that, you would have done it ten minutes ago, but you didn’t, because you know me. We come with biz and a good amount of Eddies plus you are curious and want to know what we have.” She sits back into her chair “Get off my desk!“ She hisses „But you are right. What do you want?“ V quickly jumps off her desk “Parade in Japantown, we need intel, schedules, maps whatever you have.“ She crosses her arms “Arasaka. Again. Why come to me? Didn’t Deshawn answer his phone?”

V looks at Takemura, he answers “He is deceased. Okada-san, our intentions are honorable. We need just information. It is a matter of life and death.” Wakako looks over to V „Here, it’s all on the shards.“ „How much?“ „It is free. For a favor.“ „So it’s actually not free.” “It’s free for you V, but not for our hitman here.” And she looks at Takemura “My pockets are empty.” He replies, “Clearly yes. A client of mine needs someone dead. Quite and quick. Do it and your debt is paid.” V doesn’t like this “I could just...” but Takemura interrupts her “Consider it done.” “Great, here the shard.”

V and Takemura look at the data and Wakako gives them all the intel they need. “That’s all I have. Be on your way.” „Thanks, Wakako.“ and they leave, walking down Jig-Jig street, back to Vs car. “This Information, it could be just what we need.” “Yea, but didn’t like the payment for it.” “I can handle it. Besides, I need to make money myself. I need to buy food myself.” She nods but hides her thoughts, that she still doesn’t think the deal is a good idea.

However, Takemura verbalizes them “Are you concerned about me?“ Looking at the dirty ground she replies, “Well, I can't deny it.” They arrive at her car. Takemura holds her back, by her arm “V, look at me.” She looks up and is amazed that he is smiling widely, as she hadn't seen before. “You doubt that I can properly fight without implants?” Caught off guard she opens her mouth but closes it again. “You have never seen me fighting, haven’t you?”

She slips onto her hood “Goro, look, no, I am sorry. I didn’t mean...” he walks closer to her, his smile was gone, his eyes sharp, expression cold, bulked up to his full height and arms folded. “You underestimate me V? I should have known when you told me I do not intimidate you anymore." She felt intimidated again, but without a shred of fear. Much more, she could practically feel her pupils dilate at his sight. He continues, "But be grateful I consider you a friend or you will regret this one day.” She turns to him “Wait, are you mocking me now?!” He loosens up, holding onto the roof of her car, a cheeky grin on his face, “Oh, or can it be, you don’t want anything to happen to me before our date?” V joins in his smile. “So it is a date!” She exclaims. He chuckles, before walking around the car. “Maybe.” “You know what Goro, you are right, I think I underestimate you.”

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #goro takemura #goro takemura fanfic #goro takemura x v

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