#cyberpunk brigitte

[cineemaa]

1920s ladies: brigitte helm as maria in metropolis (1927)

[wanderingaldecaldo]

Cyberpunk 2077 2.2 Vanilla Playthrough 22/???

[solwiin]

рандомные скринчики

[noraleedoes]

[merge-conflict]

she doesn't want to get in (cold)(wet)

[cyberpunkpics]

[genocidalfetus]

Meeting The Voodoo Boys, another chunk of Johnny's memory, Alt, and A Promise

Vilem went to the Chapel that Mr. Hands told him to go to in order to meet with an informant of the Voodoo Boys. A funeral is a strange place to meet someone, but Vilem has met with people in stranger places. He was told to go to a butcher shop to meet with someone named Placide.

Placide is not a talkative man.

Vilem is lead into the HQ and told about the gig he's gonna be hired for, but not before being forced to be scanned. He has to infiltrate the GIM and hack a truck. No biggie, only he has to sneak past a bunch of Animals who have taken residence in the place.

Here goes nothin...

Sneaking past those lunkhead Animals was no problem. Hacking the van was cake, until Netwatch decided to interfere. Now Vilem had to hunt down an agent.

The Netwatch Agent, Bryce Mosley, offers Vilem a deal. He doesn't kill him and Bryce not only lets Brigitte and her netrunners go, but also gets rid of the malware Placide put in his system. Johnny didn't like it, but Vilem didn't like being double-crossed more so he took the deal.

Placide was pissed, but didn't interfere with Vilem talking to Brigitte. She told him why she needed the chip, and Vilem told her that it was in his head and had to stay there or he would die. She claimed she could help, but she needed a bit of the chip to talk to Alt.

Vilem agreed to help her so she could help him. Both went into the net, where Brigitte told him they would need to elicit an emotional reaction from Johnny via a memory. Another dive into the Rockerboy's life...

2015. A post-show fight with Kerry, who Vilem noted was damn cute at that age, even if he was pissed at Johnny.

A romp with Alt in the dressing room.

A post-coital fight, followed by an ambush outside that concluded with Johnny's guts being stabbed and Alt being thrown into a van.

Johnny woke up at a ripperdoc with the man who dragged him there, Lyle Thompson, a media. He told Johnny that he and Alt were supposed to have met that night and that Alt had been taken by Arasaka. Johnny was livid, wanting to get her back. So he enlists in the help of Rogue, his ex and her associate Santiago.

Johnny concocts a plan. Samurai incite a riot outside Arasaka Tower, providing enough of a distraction for Johnny, Rogue, Santiago and Thompson to sneak in. They clean house, but the plan fails. Johnny unplugs Alt from the net, killing her by accident.

The memory ends, Vilem calls Johnny out on his lies and then Brigitte reveals the truth. She had no intention of helping Vilem at all, but needed him to go beyond the blackwall to talk to Alt. Vilem reluctantly agrees as Brigitte and her netrunners are all killed by Netwatch. Alt managed to get Vilem and Johnny out of harm's way so they can talk. She agrees to help separate Johnny and Vilem if they can get her into Mikoshi. With a plan in mind, Vilem is shot back into reality, where he fights his way out of the underground, forced to kill Placide and the rest of the VDBs.

Vilem has another relic attack, one so bad it renders him unconscious. He wakes up on the balcony of the Pistis Sofia hotel in Pacifica. Johnny dragged him there.

They go into a room, one where Johnny said he hid out in after he deserted. Vilem finds his dog tags. Then and there Johnny states that he will leave Vilem's head, even if that means dying in the process. The dog tags were his way of making that promise. But first, Vilem had to do something for him. Help him get Smasher once and for all, and enlist the help of Rogue to do it. Vilem, feeling like he can trust Johnny a little bit more than before, agrees to this exchange.

[my-dorky-cyberpunk-pics]

johnny b. lurkin'

[commandersandwich76]

[feeblecarp]

It puts the V into the tub. It does this whenever it is told.

photomode is mad fun again

[kiteran]

Real or Memorex

[solwiin]

ну снова здравствуй, моя любимая девочка

[xhollowfaerie]

silverv drabbles #4

a/n: thank you so much for the love on my cyberpunk stuff!! i get so excited whenever someone interacts with it. oh, in case it wasn't noticeable, i've started titling each scene based on songs, like how they name quests after songs in-game (I've also just always loved to name chapters based on the songs I listen to when I write them)

ps Arthur is Arthur Jenkins, your corpo boss who my V was in a toxic relationship with for a while because I love pain and coping with my personal baggage through writing :p

warnings: violence, feels, probably really bad French (please feel free to correct it lol all the Spanish/French/Japanese in my writing is scraped together from distant memories, reddit threads and online translators)

- Enter Sandman. 

Sleep with one eye open,

Gripping your pillow tight

V stumbled out of the tub of ice, teeth chattering. Her heartbeat was quickly rising in pace, feeling the heat inside her veins burning through to the tips of her fingers. They itched as her wet lashes blinked frozen drops down her face, feeling the grinding of her teeth.

Johnny’s back was turned to her, musing over their encounter with Alt. But he could feel it gnawing inside her.

Their anger.

The merc was reeling with the boils of wrath all over her, his, their consciousness. She saw Jackie, Evelynn, Alt; all the people Johnny had fucked over, all the people she had fucked over. So many wraiths circled her mind; the jealousy, the venom with which she spat words towards both Alt and Johnny, laced with his unshakable desire for vengeance. 

Her fingers danced before she reached out towards Maman Brigitte to shake her hand; her mantis blade sprung out, painting the screens behind her in blood. Blocking bullets, leaping and slicing - just like she had when she dealt with Oda. Except this time, she found herself reaching for her pistol more; and as she reloaded, her fingers unconsciously twirled it by the trigger, face twisting with a grin. Muscle memory.

Exit light,

Enter night

She went through the Voodoo Boys hideout, wiping out every last one of them. Her mind was a whirlwind; thoughts buzzing, speeding so quickly out of control, in so many directions, she could feel her brain burning aflame inside her skull. But that’s when a corpo performs best. Under pressure.

Every time they hacked her, she returned it tenfold; watching their heads sizzle as she short-circed them; the cold in her limbs, the numbness, it contrasted so bizarrely with the aggressive heat inside her head. 

Maybe she would never be able to shake the Arasaka out of her system. Maybe she was too indoctrinated. Maybe she was too much of a natural.

She’d fucking murder every last one of them. They’d started this whole fucking shitshow- everything, every death, every thread that had tied her and Johnny together and got so many people killed - cost her everything, not once but fucking TWICE.

A corpo never fails a contract.

Tie up every loose end. No witnesses. Just a message.

They’d fucked her over. Agent V had long ago learned that if she let it slide, they’d do it again. And Valerie Lovett was just about fucking sick of people having the balls to try double-crossing her.

Take my hand,

Off to Never-Neverland

“Careful, V - Placide’s just up a-” “Don’t.”

Johnny turned to face her in surprise, furrowing his brows behind his sunglasses at the sudden order. He scowled in aggravation, but the look on V’s face left him cold.

That… wasn’t V. But he remembered her, from her memories. 

Agent V walked out, a trail of corpses in her wake.

“Placide! Mon frère.  Souviens-tu de ce ranyon? Là pour rendre la pareille, sale fils de pute.” (Placide! My brother. Remember this ranyon? I’m here for payback, you son of a bitch.)

Of course she spoke French. Fucking one percenters.

Defeating him had been too easy; it was almost as if he had given up before her blade even made the first cut.

She growled as she hovered over him, pulling her pistol out.

“This one’s for Jackie and Evelyn, you piece of shit.”

- Dissolve.

Valerie collapsed the moment she exited the church, hands shaking. Her eyes widened, watching the metallic left arm tremble in front of her as if it were her own.

“Fuck.” Their voices overlapped.

She trembled in fear, feeling the familiar burn of tears in her eyes. She didn’t know what to do. Her first thought was-

“Johnny.”

Her heart felt like it was being squeezed into a pulp inside her chest, heaving desperately. Her body fell flat against the floor, writhing in pain. “-I’m, dyin’-!”

He grabbed her wrist. She couldn’t search his eyes beneath the sunglasses. The hold on her heart squeezed tighter as she replayed the image of Alt taking his glasses off in her head. For a moment, she pretended it had been her.

“U-rgh, J-Johnny!”

Fuck. Was this how she was going to go out? Crying out his name? She let her head collapse against the floor as tears streamed down her face, reaching out for a man that wasn’t there. 

She had nobody. And as much as she wanted to imagine Jackie in Johnny’s stead, the rockerboy remained glued to her retinas, stretching his arms out to hold onto her. Strange. So strange, how she felt the cold of his metal limb sizzle on her feverish skin.

“You ain’t dyin’ yet.”

The look on her face must’ve been pathetic; no, Johnny thought, you're not, and somehow, his confidence that she’ll be alright soothed the terror sprawling out of her as her eyes closed, feeling him lift her in his arms. The words left his mouth on instinct before he could even process them.

“I got you.”

-

V felt the bile rise from her throat as she woke up, the faintest hint of a salty breeze filling her lungs before she spilled the contents of her stomach onto the tiles. The seemingly pleasant scent disappeared entirely, replaced by the more familiar stench of the irreparably-polluted Pacific and her own vomit. She rolled over, looking up at the bottle of pills in her hand. He spoke first.

“That smell’s the sea breeze.”

A memory, she realized. She actually smelled the real sea for a second, or, at least, how Johnny remembered it. The mere sight of him leaning over the railing relaxed her entire body back against the wall, letting out a soft sigh.

“...Johnny!”

A conclusion. Relief. Thank God, or, whoever, whatever the fuck. No… If the sand was starting to run out of her hourglass, she wanted to start saying things. Things she was so afraid to say before. Her voice was coarse, but so much gentler than he was used to. A gentleness he had witnessed seldomly, mostly in her memories.

“Thanks.”

Proud of you, chica. Livin’ well, eh? 

A small smile coated her lips, engraving the scent of Johnny’s ocean into her own mind - or encouraging theirs to intertwine. 

“Don’t mention it. Get up. Pacific’s beautiful this time of day.”

She crawled over to the railing and used it for support, straightening up to her feet. His voice sounded distant, almost dreamy. She couldn’t tell if she was still woozy from the fight, his memories, Alt, the Relic killing her, or her deepest, most hidden desires surfacing against her will, enveloping her mind in a drunken stupor.

“Almost flatlined by that attack…”

Johnny didn’t glance at her. He looked out towards the sea, and she saw small glimmers of cobalt, felt the soft warmth of the sun on her skin before the gray tones of current reality set back in.

“Almost.”

She smiled again, leaning forward to rest atop the half-wall, propping her head against her shoulder and marveling at the view before stealing a quick look at him.

For a second, he looked younger, like he had in 2013. She saw Alt kissing him; wondered how it had felt like to be on the receiving end.

“You’re right” she breathed, shamelessly losing herself in staring at the profile of his face, trailing over his lips.

“Hard to take my eyes off it.”

He filled her in on the location, but her curiosity was eating away at her. She couldn’t help asking about the pills, which prompted a surprisingly offended response.

“Got this strange impression your comatose self wanted to get rid of me. Actually put up a good fight.”

She didn’t remember. But, somehow, he did. When he tried to pick her up, she kicked and screamed against him. The attack had been her. Lashing out.

“GET OFF! DON’T TOUCH ME, ASSHOLE!”

“V, fuck’s gotten into you?! Let me help-”

“Like you helped Alt?! Rogue? What am I, the next little fuck and run on your list? Gonna pump and dump me too? I've played this song and dance before, Johnny. I can't- not again!”

She had been furious with him before, but the shared feeling inside them was unlike anything else. Hatred, which wasn’t new either - except for the fact that now, their psyches were becoming so linked together, he hypothesized that this manifestation of her outburst towards him was his own self-hatred lashing out in the way that would hurt him the most. In her image. 

She scratched gashes into his arms with her nails, bit hard into his ‘ganic hand; hissed and shrieked at him. The betrayal in her eyes left him dumbfounded. She couldn’t have possibly been this furious just from witnessing him being an asshole to his ex? It almost sounded like she was projecting her own shitty ex on him, too. Maybe they both were.

Something stuck with him. The way she spoke within the cyberspace… the way she mentioned Alt. He couldn’t tell what the fuck she was so mad about. Was he a piece of shit? Sure, everyone knew that. But she was almost as catty with Alt as she was sympathetic, uniting against him, and it gave him a headache. As much as he considered himself a connoisseur of the feminine, he was in way over his head. He’d never realize just how clueless he could be, something pointed out by every woman he had been with. Crying, usually. Before or after slapping him.

He wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

- Three Nights.

They were slowly approaching his old room; he glitched in and out, his image and voice buzzing with static as he waited at the end of the balcony. 

V collapsed again. When she blinked, he appeared in front of her, kneeling; she almost made out the painting of concern across his features, right as he glitched away again, characteristically crossing his arms in front of himself and waiting for her to move.

Her heart filled to the brim when she pulled the dog tags out, gripping them in disbelief. He wondered what it was that made her heart beat so fast when she looked back at him, draped dramatically over the back of the chair.

Johnny was starting to worry that maybe she was finally losing it. The expression she regarded him with was driving him insane. What was that? Just gratitude? Obviously, she was still out of it, because the way she laughed and her lashes fluttered at him with a genuine smile as she sat on the kitchen floor, that floor he had passed out so numbly on so many times, made his stomach flip in the weirdest way. Maybe he just needed to disillusion himself. Remind himself what this really was. A hostage situation. Which way, neither of them could fuckin’ tell.

“Would you take a bullet for me?”

Why did she laugh like that? So… sweetly? Fuck, she was so fucking frustrating. 

“Dumbass question...”

“Answer it-”

“I would, yeah.”

Not even a heartbeat’s worth of thinking it through, though her voice trembled. With what, he couldn’t tell - or that’s what he chose to lie to himself.

He looked away when he pushed his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. What the fuck was up with him? What was that high?

Reliving his memories with Alt, he thought. Had to be. That familiar feeling he remembered so strongly. Freedom, albeit brief. Passion, thirst… For, for…

Oh, how he had loved holding her hand. Not that he'd ever admit it. He never did. No matter how rough the sex; he was always the one to reach his hand out first, but hers always met his, every time. He missed their weight on his digits. 

His fingers balled into a fist.

Too bad he fucked it up. There was no such thing as fairytale endings; certainly not for a cosmically fucked ex-corpo merc with more trauma than high heels and the cyberpsycho rockerboy terrorist in her head. They were probably the only ones whose baggage could rival each other's, in a horrendously messed up, ironic way.

So whatever the fuck this is you think you're feelin’, Johnny, quit it, his subconscious snarled.

Their brief discussion of Johnny’s past seemed to untangle the tension between them; she made herself comfortable in his old hideout, feeling the intensity of the previous sensations dissipating as she listened to his voice. Despite his protests, she still collapsed onto one of the filthy mattresses, looking up at the spinning fan with a loose grin, closing her eyes and looking out the window to the sky. He almost found it funny; a prim and proper corpo lady, half a century later, laying in his old bed, wearing a ragged Burn Corpo Shit tee (thank fuck she stopped ‘ironically’ wearing that fucking Samurai tshirt in public, that shit was so ridiculous) and worn leather pants. That was an image he wouldn’t be able to get out of his head. For a multitude of reasons.

“Just five minutes, Mister Silverhand…”

He groaned in disgust at the address, shaking his head.

“You’re fuckin’ hopeless! Just don’t rot away in here. Or do. Maybe I don’t give a shit, after all.”

V giggled, drifting off to sleep. Her honeyed voice echoed Alt’s. “You’re a terrible liar, Johnny Silverhand.”

Three nights, at the motel, 

Under streetlights, in the City of Palms

Call me what you want, when you want, if you want

And you can call me names if you call me up

She wondered if he could see her dreams as she pictured the two of them at the beach, hitting each-other with beach balls, splashing salty seawater into each-other’s eyes, squealing when he’d lift her up from beneath the waves, smearing sunscreen on each-other’s faces.

Johnny sat on the edge of the mattress by her side, wide-eyed. He didn’t process the damp trails on his face, too focused on the hesitance in his hand as he dared to reach out and push a pink strand of hair out of her eyes. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

His mechanical fingers cupped her face for way too short a moment before pulling back as if she was molten iron, burying his face in his hands.

He didn’t deserve any of her heart. He didn’t deserve a single part of her, and here he was, taking over her entirety. Killing her, excruciatingly. Too quickly to ever say everything he should have, but not fast enough to spare her the pain. Wiping out her consciousness. Replacing her.

That wasn’t a fucking dream. That was an old-ass memory, corroding as their minds blended together. He couldn’t remember who the girl was anymore. One of many. He must’ve still been in highschool. Or was it college? 

Now, that girl was V.

But it couldn’t be. Not after her.

Johnny exhaled a shaky breath into his hands. He couldn’t even fathom the pain of losing Valerie, too.

I get my feelings involved, she stopped returning my calls

Her flaws turned into walls and barricades

And I’m too far gone in all the wrong ways,

And now every long day is a bad one

I can’t make you call or make you stay or take you off the pedestal

-

“Feelin’ better” V groaned as she woke up from her nap. She was surprised to see Johnny looking down at her from the window. Distracted, or, like he was burying something deep.

“Still feel a sharp somethin’ near your heart” he commented.

Valerie felt its uncomfortable jab as she bit down into her tongue. 

That somethin’ had so many names, she’d lost count. Her family. Arthur. Jackie. Alt.

She moved closer and inched a hand towards his sunglasses. Johnny blinked in surprise, but the realization left him just as soon as it had hit, actively shrouded by V’s consciousness as her arm dropped back at her side and she lowered her gaze to lace her high heeled boots back up. Her voice shrunk, hazed with an old sentiment of bitterness. His eyes caught onto her bullet necklace, despite having seen it every second of every day since waking up in her head. Now, it almost stung.

“Doubt that’s ever goin’ away.”

[cyberpunkgame]

❔ In which moment of the game does #PhantomLiberty start? 🧐

The new storyline will unlock after you finish the Transmission quest where you encounter Maman Brigitte from Voodoo Boys. Songbird will reach out to you!

If you have already finished the quest or the game — Songbird will contact you shortly after you turn the game on. And if you haven’t played Cyberpunk 2077 at all and want to dive straight into the expansion — you will be able to do that from the main menu!

[cyberpunkpics]

[the-teddy-bear-butch]

In case anyone was wondering, I am, in fact, alive. A quick summary of where I’ve been/life update for ye:

> I graduated! Got my BS in Microbiology 😎

> I got a full time job with benefits that’s I’m super proud of and actually enjoying. Got a promotion in my first month so that was pretty rad

> I turned 22 in December. Also started going by they/them instead of they/she, which I’m sure surprises no one

> I moved back in with my parents to start saving for grad school. I worked on two applications for fall 2025 but was rejected by both schools :( Hopeful for future terms!

> I got a brand new car. And then also was a dipshit and damaged said brand new car

> Been working a small amount on my first fic in fucking ages, so if I have any CaitVi followers, expect that at Some Fucking Point. AO3 is does_this_unit_have_a_soul. May also write some Cyberpunk (Judy/V or Panam/V) and/or Mass Effect (Shepard/Liara or Shepard/Garrus) and/or Overwatch (DVa/Brigitte) fic at some point in the future because I’m rotating them

And that’s what you missed on Glee! But to be serious, it’s been insane and a fucking ROLLERCOASTER and I am so exhausted, excited, and stressed beyond belief so I have not been on Tumblr much and probably will not be on Tumblr often in the near future