#just a lucky guess - but he's only really at ease when he sees the Aldecaldos decal while already inside the car

[elvenbeard]

Hitchhiker

[>> continued below the cut]

[Insert "A corpo and a nomad walk into a desert" joke here].

ölakshdfasjfhdsdfh hi, I'm Elven, and I'm becoming increasingly addicted to making longass VP comics uwu (and loving every second of it, let's be real XD)

This one has been on my "wanna do" list forever - or at the very least since @pinkyjulien trusted me with his boy 💛 Thank you so much for letting me take Valentin on some unexpected adventures!!

The thing is, I had always wondered if and how these two could ever meet (and also if they could ever become friends, because let's be honest, they're from very different worlds.... or are they 👀 alköasdhfdf I'm already saying too much, there is a part two that will follow in a separate post, but I'll link it below once it's here)

[Part Two - now here :D]

But yes!! Nothing better than fateful meetings at unexpected times :D And I hope I'll have Vince as an NPV somewhere down the line as well to send him on some adventures of his own!

Also, some BTS from a while ago for everyone who read this far:

Very sus

Short, colorful rattail kings 🤌

[twistedsinews]

Untitled; Jackie/V, V/Panam-ish; PG-13

“Shouldn’t you be back at camp?”

“Should I be?”

Slowly spinning the glass between her fingertips, V shrugged.

“Second chances don’t come along often,” she said.  “It’d be a shame to waste yours.”

As though it were a foregone conclusion that rejoining the Aldecaldos were her fortune and not potentially a trap.  Panam felt a needle of contrariness.

“Perhaps I am still trying to decide where I belong.”

V gave a lazy toss of her head; a solemn suit yourself, then.

She must have been there long, as there were a cluster of drained glasses already set to the side in front of her, for all that she seemed to be in no hurry with her present one.

On the other side of the bar, Claire leaned with her chin propped against her knuckles. Eavesdropping with the sympathetic ear of the bartender she was.  

“Celebrating?” Panam guessed, and V pulled a sarcastic smile.

“Not really.”

“Oh.”  Settling into the empty seat beside her, Panam wondered aloud, “What are you having?”

“Jack.  Jackie...” V barely raised her voice above a breath, “Jackie Welles.”

“I admit,” Panam said, “I haven’t tried that one.”

Claire roused.

“Feels like the only name on the menu,” she remarked.  She reached for the glass held loosely in V’s hand, and slid it down in front of Panam instead.  “Guess it’s your lucky night.”

V stared at her empty fingers, and pouted.

But didn’t argue.

She didn’t seem that drunk, but...

“Not bad,” she assessed the drink.

A shout turned Claire’s head, and she straightened up to stroll off down the bar, calling back to answer it.

V folded her arms on the bar, regarding her with hazy eyes.

Kiroshi, if she remembered.  It was difficult not to.  V had certainly chosen a vivid color for them.

“Hey, Panam?”

“Yeah?”

“I gotta ask,” V ventured tentatively, “You and Nash...”

“...what?”

“It seemed kinda personal, I just gotta know...”

Panam nearly choked.

“No!” she squeaked, and further enunciated, “No, no, no.”

V flashed her a cock-eyed grin.  “No, I mean... how’d you two get involved?” Really, did she have to phrase it that way?  “How’d he get involved in the Afterlife? How’d you even trust a shiv...?”

Shaking her head, Panam sighed through her teeth.

“Rogue set us up,” she said. The sheer interest in V’s eyes goaded her on.  “And he wasn’t all that bad, not at the very start.  He was good at what he did.  Very good. I don’t know that I ever trusted him, but... I...” her voice grew small, as she realized out loud, “wanted to trust someone.”

V’s eyebrows drew together, pity or maybe worse, sympathy playing across her face.

Claire had wandered back their way, and she singled out Panam with a perceptive stare.  “Hey,” she asked, quietly.  “Think maybe you can take her home, for me?”

Glowering, V sat upright; she swayed a bit in her seat, but didn’t fall.

“I’ll be fine-...”

“Sure,” Panam agreed.

“Great.”

***

It was strange, she could only think, to see a nomad so settled.

And V had never struck her as anything but.

But her apartment was certainly lived in, bleeding character all its own.

She hovered, knowing it to be unnecessary, as V shimmied out of her street clothes, packing them in for a comfortable shirt.  Gracelessly, V slumped down onto the bed.

Maybe she ought to have left, and considered her obligation fulfilled.

Instead, Panam clambered over to the inside of the compartment, and eased down to sit by V’s legs.

V didn’t acknowledge her, one way or the other.  There was an emptiness to her eyes as she brushed a hand over the pillow beside her.

Something about the gentle touch cut into her like a knife, and Panam glanced around at the space surrounding them for a distraction.  A frame fallen flat on the shelf caught her eye, and she reached to right it... then picked it up to stare.

A bright-eyed man grinned back at her from the photo, next to V – a much different, V who looked too aloofly cool to smile nearly that cheerfully but far happier than Panam could remember having seen her.  Another woman was on the man’s other side, a more subdued smile on her lips, but it danced vibrantly within her eyes.

Two smaller photos had been tucked into the lower corner of the frame, one depicting a sharp looking woman in netrunner gear who had stared at the camera with a wry mixture of disbelief and an almost smile, and the other a man in sunglasses, with an easy smile, almost shy in its simplicity.

Panam’s eyes were drawn back to the main photo.  To V, and to the man smiling beside her like the sun.

“He would’ve fuckin’ loved you.”

V’s voice cut through her thoughts, soft, with a touch of wistfulness.  Panam glanced to the head of the bed to find she hadn’t moved; she set the frame back onto the shelf, upright, and stretched to lie down beside the other woman.

Face half-obscured behind her hand, V watched her quietly.  Heart aching in a sympathy she only half-understood beyond mere words, Panam reached out to stroke her cheek.

V’s eyes drifted shut, and she breathed a soft, shuddering breath.

“Don’t... please?”

At a loss, Panam wondered aloud, “...why not?”

“Because it’s not fair.”

She couldn’t remember ever having heard someone so close to the verge of tears without tipping over, and for all that V’s eyes remained dry.  Panam’s hand settled on her shoulder, and she inched closer; a compromise to which V did not protest.

 When she awoke, V was gone, and had left Panam alone with only the ghosts and mere traces of a happier lifetime.