#muse: johnny silverhand

[delightindarkness]

{Hey guys, I'm gonna be here tomorrow and Monday. Also gonna do as many replies and starters as I can. Anyone want a new Muse? }

Johnny Silverhand from Cyberpunk.

[nxthingtxwn]

//New muses added:

David Martinez (Cyberpunk Edgerunners)

Johnny Silverhand (Cyberpunk 2077)

Lucyna "Lucy" Kushinada (Cyberpunk Edgerunners)

J.J. Macfield (The MISSING: J.J. Macfield and the Island of Memories)

Vi (Arcane, I don't play League of Legends)

New alt form added:

Johanna V Linder (Johnny Silverhand in V's body)

Also added a Cyberpunk character sheet because the number of muses I have from the franchise was starting to expand a little too far for the Misc Games page.

[frxdaynxghtfxrefxght]

//Muse List is in pinned, but I'm just gonna quickly list all the muses I have in this post anyway:

Claire Russell

David Martinez

Johnny Silverhand

Judy Alvarez

Lucy Kushinada

Panam Palmer

Rebecca

Sasha Yakovleva

V (Valerie Lopez)

[bishicat]

tf you looking at?

[the-archangel]

It's My (Halloween) Party

Halloween fluff (mostly) with a NSFW middle bit!

“It’s fine V, honestly, it’s fine. I knew that in the end this is what would have to happen and so did you. I’m ready, it’s fine.”

V looks Johnny in the eye, the usual smug look had been replaced with one more sombre and thoughtful.

“Shit Johnny, I’m so sorry, but don’t you think you’re over-reacting the tiniest bit? I mean, I’m literally going to be gone for three days, I promise I’ll spend the day with you on Friday.”

“But it’s Hallowe’en tomorrow V, I wanted to take it all in, dress up and shit, y’know?”

“I know, I do, but you can always decorate the apartment. Hey, why not have a party? Get dressed up, invite your friends, it’ll be fun.”

Johnny huffs non-committally, he does love a party, he might struggle with the friends part though. “I got a costume, see what you think?”

V nods and settles back on the couch and a few minutes later a subtly changed Johnny re-enters the room. V looks at his friend’s black suit, shirt and tie combo quizzically, “Who’re you supposed to be?”

“I’m an old-school assassin, like in that movie we saw where he killed that dude with a library book.”

“Shit yeah! That’s pretty good. If you put away the shit-eating grin and worked on harassed and homicidal you’d look just like him.” V laughs.

“Thank you for your valuable feedback.” Johnny spits before stalking back to the wardrobe.

-

Kerry is also in a wardrobe, albeit a much larger, more glamourous one. This Hallowe’en is going to be epic and he and V need outfits to match. There is already a pretty impressive pile of discarded clothes and exotic costumes, but nothing seems quite right.

V had tried helping at first, unearthing pirate costumes and elegant military gear from long-forgotten videos and declaring it all perfect, but hot as V looked in the sexy highwayman outfit, none of it was vibing with Kerry so the outfit was abandoned with the rest – only a little torn by its somewhat hasty removal. So, V is returning home in good spirits, oblivious to the increasingly frustrated mood of his husband.

“Hey Ker, you still upstairs?” V shouts.

A muffled, “M,hm,” comes from somewhere above him. Taking the steps two at a time and entering the closet, V tries not to smirk at the picture before him: world-famous Rockerboy Kerry Eurodyne sat in his underpants and a black feather boa pouting in a maelstrom of abandoned ideas.

V carefully picks his way over to the comically dejected looking man and sits behind wrapping his arms around his shoulders and grimaces through the pain of the coat hanger currently digging into his upper thigh. “It’s OK Ker, I’ll drive us into the City Center, buy lunch, look for costumes…”

Kerry cuts him off, “No! There’s something here, I can feel it, I just can’t find it.”

V pulls him closer burying his face in the older man’s neck, mostly to hide the chuckle. “Ditch this for a couple of hours, we can come back to it later, we need to pack for tomorrow’s trip.”

The other man looks momentarily startled, he’d been trying to forget about the record company shindig in NY he’d agreed to host, only finally agreeing because there’d be chooms there he hadn’t seen in a few years – and because of the preem Hallowe-en party of course. “Sure, I suppose,” he says, reluctantly letting the boa fall to the floor and allowing V to help him up, not that he needed help of course.

-

V flicks a note to Johnny when they’re on the way to the airport, Kerry sighing and rolling his eyes as he does so. “I just don’t want him to worry.” Explains the ex-merc.

“You don’t want him bugging you all day asking if you’ve set off yet ya mean.” Mutters the Rockerboy.

Johnny reads the message sullenly, last Hallowe’en was a wash out what with hospital stays (him), hissy fits (Kerry) and psychological evaluations by the bucketful (him and V), he wanted this one to count. Asking around various bars had given him a few leads to some preem parties, but none of them were quite what he was looking for, too controlled, not enough mayhem, maybe he wouldn’t bother after all, just throw himself into some work and forget about the whole thing. Fucking Kerry spoiling his fun again.

The Afterlife is buzzing, especially for a Tuesday morning which is often the quietest part of the week, prolly everyone wanting to conclude business before the evening shenanigans begin Johnny thinks curling his lip. He heads towards a couple of chooms in a corner booth and begins to talk biz.

-

Dragging the cases to the cab whilst Kerry expansively describes the hotel they’ll be staying in, V quickly pings off another message to Johnny, ‘En route to hotel, any plans yet?’ but no reply is immediately forthcoming so he takes his seat and looks out at the crumbling skyscrapers of New York that remind him so much of home.

Kerry’s voice brings him back to the moment, “Do you think we made the right choice?”

Baffled, V looks for clues in his husband’s face, does he mean in coming to NY, or picking this hotel, or getting a cat, or, well the list is pretty long of things they may regret one day. “Nope, you’ve lost me.”

“Of costumes ya gonk, what else could I be talking about?”

V lets out a breath and grins, “Course, everyone’s gonna be blown away.”

“Ya think? It’s not going to come across as a little, I dunno, low effort?”

V grips Kerry’s hand even tighter than he already is, “Babe, no one is gonna care about anything other than how fucking awesome we look, it’s not even worth thinking about.”

Sinking into his husband’s arms, Kerry smiles and looks up into the ex-merc’s eyes, “You’re one choice I’m never gonna regret,” he whispers huskily before planting a kiss on V’s bearded chin and snoozing for the rest of the ride.

-

Back in NC, Johnny is in the shower after a seemingly straightforward gig that turned unexpectedly messy. Picking the bits of Scav bone out of his matted hair is taking longer than he anticipated, he grunts with satisfaction as each one hits the floor of the shower.

Finally feeling reasonably presentable he searches the apartment for his jacket, he’s finally found the perfect party, he’s ditched the costume, he very much wants to look recognisable as himself when he walks in. “Fucking thing, where’s it gone?” he mutters to himself as he turns the room upside-down. Sitting on the bed and scanning the room, he frowns as he notices V’s battered old ‘Second Conflict’, jacket on the back of the chair, the October air is too cool to go jacketless, so “Fuck,” he sighs as he shrugs on the offending item and leaves into the Hallowe’en afternoon smog.

-

For the more formal, earlier part of the evening, Kerry has chosen a powder blue shot-silk evening suit and for V a matching one in teal, V is leaning heavily on the dressing table clinging onto the edge with one hand and gently stroking Kerry’s hair with the other as the Rockerboy expertly and enthusiastically sucks on his cock. “You look so hot in that suit Ker,” V purrs between gasps, “hope I didn’t hurt your knees pushing you down on the floor like that.”

Kerry pulls away from the object of his obsession for a moment, a string of drool and precum connecting them still, “You know I’d crawl over broken glass to get to your dick,” he smirks running his tongue up the underside and grinning as V shivers, “but I will get my own back ‘bout the crack about my knees later.” V chuckles, then gasps as his length disappears into Kerry’s warm, willing mouth.

“Five-minute call Mr. Eurodyne,” a runner calls through the door just as V groans and Kerry swallows, he licks his lips and kisses his husband deeply.

-

Johnny is on the street looking over at the warehouse where the party is to be held in a few hours’ time. He’s rolled up pretty early since he’s unfamiliar with this part of Watson and wants to make sure he makes a big entrance dead on time later. Satisfied that he has identified the main entrance and any exits he may need for whatever reason he retires to a nearby bar, orders a tequila and checks his messages.

Despite still being pretty pissed at V for disappearing over the holidays, he grins when he sees his message, “Heck yeah!!” he replies and settles in for a couple of hours while he waits for the party to begin.

-

V basks in the reflected glow from his husband as Kerry charmingly ad-libs his way through introductions and conversations, finishing with him disappearing in a puff of smoke whilst a spooky instrumental version of Dark Matter is played allowing him to grab V and rush back to the dressing room to get changed for the party proper.

“Still not sure about this Vince,” says Kerry pulling on and adjusting the wig he spent many hours choosing and having styled just right, “but it is spooky how much you look like him, got his mannerisms down and everything. Gives me the creeps if I’m honest.”

Looking in the mirror, V has to agree that the make-up artist, who is now working on Kerry, has done a preem job, unsettlingly so in fact. “It’s supposed to give you the creeps, it’s Hallowe’eeeeeen,” he replies in his best spooky voice. After a last critical look in the mirror V grabs his jacket and leans on the doorframe having a smoke waiting for Kerry to be ready. The make up guy does a couple of last adjustments and stands back whilst Kerry plays with his Kiroshis to get just the right eye color and stands to look in the full-length mirror.

He's almost mesmerised by what he sees there, “You’re a fucking genius Terry,” he tells the make-up guy, eyes never leaving the mirror.

V comes up behind him and slips his arms around his waist, “I honestly don’t know if it’s wrong to feel like this, but you look so fucking hot right now.”

Kerry turns in his arms and looks for V’s eyes, but finds only his own reflection in the lenses of his glasses, “V honey, it’s never wrong to tell me I look hot.”

-

 People have started arriving to the party in Watson, Johnny nurses his drink and watches through the grimy window of the bar, waiting for the perfect time to make his entrance. He checks the pistol in his jacket, hefts his duffel bag onto his shoulder and makes his way over, avoiding being seen until he reaches the camera over the doorway to which he gives a one-fingered salute before heading inside.

It's maybe not what most people would call a party, mostly there are heavily chromed Maelstrommers hunched over laptops or having heavy conversations at tables, but as far as Johnny Silverhand is concerned anywhere where you can drink and have fun is a party, he’s already done the drinking part, now he’s ready for the fun.

He’d made it in and up the stairs without being spotted, clearly they’re all too busy to check the cameras, good. Standing just inside the doorway to the goon-filled open space beyond Johnny drops the bag pulling out V’s favourite SMG, Fenrir – perfect for these over-chromed gonks – and with something less flashy as a backup he kicks open the door, spraying bullets as he strides forwards.

Not being complete idiots, most of the gangers flee through the fire exit and disperse into the night, that’s fine, he’s not here to kill particularly, he’s here to collect. A couple of crumpled bodies impede his entrance slightly, but he grins as a metallic voice whines, “Shit, it’s Johnny Silverhand,” he makes his way towards the injured goon.

A couple of the guys don’t seem to have got the message, a well-placed bullet re-acquaints them with it, a couple more decide to try to be heroes, a casually hurled grenade finishes them off, finally it’s just Johnny and his quarry and a nervous woman who appears to be the girlfriend.

“You Taser?” the merc asks lighting a cigarette, well-aware of how this illuminates his scowling face.

“Leave him alone,” the woman shrieks coming at Johnny with impressively sharp steel nails unsheathed, “or I’ll fuck that pretty face right up.”

“Aw, she thinks I’m pretty,” Johnny says as he slows her down with a spray of bullets to the legs.

“Shit, dude!” screams Taser covering his head with his arms and smearing the blood dripping from his chest over his face.

Johnny looks into a face that is mostly polished chrome with two red pin-pricks that he guesses must be eyes. “Brick says you owe him, and you owe him big. He wants his Eddies.”

Taser gulps, “But…” Johnny’s pistol presses uncomfortably into his abdomen, “Shit, fine,” his eyes glow violet for a moment, “it’s done, tell him it’s fucking done.”

“We thank you for your co-operation,” Johnny offers as he leaves.

-

Over in New York, the party is also in full swing, the media swarm around the red-carpeted entrance to the ballroom cooing over the guest’s costumes and analysing their choices. The short journey from their room to the party is a tense one for Kerry, still unsure if anyone will even get their costumes, never mind dig them. Hand in hand, he and V leave the elevator and turn the corner onto the carpet, dozens of heads turn, they’d been waiting for his arrival, not only is he a huge star, but his costume never disappoints. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but the gasps, laughs and applause are not unwelcome.

For the occasion, V has replaced his synth-skin chrome arm for an older, silver model, red shades and a dark, shoulder-length wig add to the look, but it’s the ‘borrowed’ clothes – leather trousers, Samurai tank and the iconic jacket – and immaculate mannerisms that really make the resemblance extraordinary.

Kerry had spent ages getting the bandana just so around his thick, curly dark hair. Terry had done an amazing job with the facial hair and tattoos and somehow made him look thirty all over again. The moment of inspiration had come as he put the pile of clothes back into the closet the previous day, his old leather vest had slipped from its hanger as he shuffled past with his armful of rejected outfits and on picking it up something akin to a lighting bolt hit him, Kerry Eurodyne and Johnny Silverhand finally together again after fifty years.

The crowd lapped it up, especially when they stop for a very wet, passionate and long kiss, tomorrow’s screamsheet headlines are just writing themselves.

-

Having collected his payment for a job well done, Johnny makes his way through town, stopping briefly to change before making his way to the Afterlife and the private party he was about to crash. The feeds on the street caught his eye, he stands clenching has cigarette between thin lips as he watches the footage beamed from New York, he was definitely going to have to have a very serious word with V later.

-

The party was awesome, Kerry had kept his crown as the King of Hallowe’en and V was having a lot of fun channelling Johnny again for one night. Back in their room, the Rockerboy throws himself onto the bed chatting animatedly about how awesome the evening was while V sits beside him, smiling at how happy they both are and remembering how lucky he is.

“Y’know,” says V resting his hand on his husband’s chest, “Rock God Kerry is my guy, but this version is still doing it for me.” Kerry scowls at first, but is soon smiling again as V’s hand slides down his torso and into his jeans, “Keep the costume on for a while huh?” he asks, running his tongue around a pert nipple.

Kerry closes his eyes and moans softly, but then opens them and pulls himself up into a seated position, evicting a confused V from his chest, “You’re gonna have to get changed, the thought of Johnny anywhere near my cock is putting me off,” he growls.

V snickers, Johnny would love to know he was cock-blocking him from the other side of the country, “Course Ker, gimme a minute.” The ‘borrowed’ clothes drop to the floor, the shades and wig come off and the make-up is wiped away, a few minutes later a fresh-faced V comes back to four angry messages from Johnny and a gently snoring husband, it’s OK he decides curling up next to his man, it can all wait til morning.

[mobianresistance]

"Know what? You're starting to remind me of me, 50 years back..."

"Minus the charisma... and impressive cock."

[timaeusterrored]

V bringing Johnny back was an adjustment. Kerry couldn’t tell if it was good or bad but he still couldn’t believe the man would just be.. sitting on couch when he got home. Every time he went to sit in V’s booth, Johnny was there and waiting. He was everywhere and Kerry didn’t know how to feel about it.

He knew that V knew that he was still adjusting to this ‘New Johnny’ as he called it. And like always was patient with him. Johnny was patient too, there were still many unresolved issues between the old friends. Just as he was getting over him and starting his new life with V, he walked into a dark Villa and a very bloody Vax and Johny on his floor, Johnny shaking and the two holding onto each other like they were trying to merge again.

There was lots of quiet after that. Johnny trying to get used to his new form and both of them getting used to being apart. And the only person allowed within five feet of them was Kerry. They barely allowed Vik at first, Kerry having to coax them into allowing someone else in their bubble.

Johnny hadn’t said a word since he had gotten back, but he watched. Kerry couldn’t move without feeling dark eyes on him at all times. V slept a lot, his body trying to catch up on all the rest he had missed and getting used to the new chip that was rebuilding his brain. And Kerry could only sit by and watch, feeling helpless.. and a bit jealous. But he didn’t tell them that. He just didn’t want Johnny taking away the last good thing he had.

Kerry had a meeting to go too, and V had told him to wake him before he left but he couldn’t. He looked so peaceful. Johnny was rested on top of him, as always, and Nibbles curled up at their feet. If it were under different circumstances, Kerry probably would have found it cute. But the pit in his gut grew as he got closer to kiss V goodbye.

It was light enough to not wake his lover, but a hand weakly gripped his wrist and he looked down to see Johnny looking up at him. Kerry crouched down, seeing what he could need in that moment. Johnny had never looked so.. gentle before.

“Muse..” he forced out after a moment of struggling and the nickname felt like a slap to the face. He hadn’t heard it from Johnny in so long. “Stay.” He was struggling to speak and Kerry could see the flash of irritation on his part to find words.

“I gotta go, I have a meeting.” Kerry checked the time, and Johnny tried to tighten his grip. “Come back.. my muse.” He whispered, and Kerry’s heart exploded. He had never, ever called Kerry his in such a way. It had always been ‘Muse’ or ‘Archangel.’ Never ‘My Muse.’ It had been Kerry’s dream once upon a time for Johnny to call him that, and honestly he only ever got archangel when Johnny was drunk and in his feelings.

“I’ll come back. I’m not leaving you two like this.” He said softly, looking up when V shifted a bit but fell stayed asleep. He really didn’t want to wake him up, or at least would like it if he moved them to his bed. The couch could not be comfortable like this.

“Promise?” Johnny whispered, not letting go of his wrist. But on his state, if Kerry really wanted too, he could shake Johnny off.

“Promise. I’ll be back in three hours.” He gave Johnny an exact time, just like he used to do for his kids when they were still around. Johnny nodded, using most of his strength to pull Kerry’s hand up and kiss his ring finger before his hand went limp against V’s stomach again.

“Sleep J.. I’ll be back when you wake up.”

[vendettamuses]

@summerxmelodies SAID: "what do you want from me?" (For Johnny)

⚔️ Intimate Pillow Talk Prompts // CLOSED⚔️

"Nothin' in particular," the rockerboy pauses and lowers his glass from his lips as he looks her up and down, appraising her somehow. The whispers around said that the Afterlife's newest bartender was a fall from grace. A corpo princess who lost it all. He had to laugh. It was a tale as old as time. But nobody seemed to care about history anymore. They all thought they were special. That something like this could never happen to them.

"I've learned not to expect much for corpo-rats. But you're not exactly hanging with the rest of them anymore, are you?" He snickered, resuming the motion to down his cup in one swig before setting it down for a refill. Asshole. Leave it to the likes of Johnny Silverhand to be a dick and rub salt into the wound of people he hadn't even met yet. "No more lavish living for you. Now you've gotta scrape through the dirt for your eddies just like the rest of us, princess."

The nickname was dripping with snark and venom. The kind only someone whose heart from raw with bitterness and hatred could manage. So simple and short and yet so biting. "Ask me nicely, and maybe I can help ya. You know - show you the ropes of underground living?" He moved to kick his feet up on the seat next to him, leaning to use the countertop as an armrest as he smirked again. His other hand moved to tug down his signature aviators just enough so he could peer at her from over the rims.

"Unless you're too afraid of getting your pretty little hands dirty?"

[delightindarkness]

{Good morning babes! I'm here! Anyone want my new muse? Jumping on replies asap.}

Johnny Silverhand

[lcsthings]

johnny silverhand.

i probably won’t be as active on him until i’ve finished my second playthrough.

[vihrago-a]

‘ you started this thing with me, you’re ending it with me. ’. V AND JOHNNY HELLOOOOOOO

it looks like her body tried to check out on her again. last she remembered was finishing up a rather stressful gig , and then falling to the ground in writhing pain -- muscles tensing and seizing up. johnny was right there to help her as he'd always been. next thing was her waking up in her apartment on her bed curled up , a vulnerable position. " fuck... " everything ached tremendously. like she had gotten hit by a goddamn truck. and with all the shit she gets into with johnny , it wouldn't surprise her if it did happen. [ you started this thing with me, you’re ending it with me. ] " careful, its sounding like you actually care, johnny. i had no plans to die any time soon -- my body on the other hand? i cant promise that. " v sat up and rubbed her face , keeping her head hung low. she sighs. her schedule was clear for today and she could do what she wanted. but did she feel like doing anything? no. she stood and treaded over to her window, hopping up onto the ledge and just watched the city before her. something she sometimes did to help keep her mind at ease. things were getting real close and there was only so much she could do before she flatlined. might as well make the best of it.

prompt : reluctant allies.

[yns-world]

Never Fade Away

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x Fem!Idol!Reader A/N: Y/S/N = Your Stage Name this is an extension of this, feel free to read :)

2022

nobody said showbiz was easy, but should it border hellish in order for something to change?

you loved johnny, and johnny loved you, that was a fact that you both knew so well— so when did things become so difficult?

in your and johnny’s case, opposites attract. but what you didn’t account for was that opposites also repel. 

both of your lives were constantly in the spotlight, and this relationship even more so. with millions of eyes flicking over every move, every microtransaction, there is barely any room to just be. 

you two were a match made for the stage, nobody could beat the stage presence you two shared when you performed, but this fame was taking a toll on you both. 

in the short year you guys dated, it was like fire and ice. burning hot with passion and then freezing over with frostbite.

but as time went on, the cracks in the relationship began to show. the flaws in you both began to grow bigger and bigger but neither of you knew what to do, so you ignored it. 

but ignoring was the absolute worst thing to do, and now you’re having screaming matches that last for hours, days, and then weeks of silence.

of course, the media is all over this. 

“Johnny Silverhand’s New Victim”

“Y/S/N Seen Storming Out of Silverhand’s Apartment”

things could only go on for so long before you had to cut things off— something that nearly tore you to shreds.

johnny begged, he cried, he pleaded, he waited outside your apartment for hours on end. he damn-near kissed the ground you walked upon just so you would glance at him once more, because in his mind he cannot for the life of him make sense of why the perfect woman would just leave him.

but that’s exactly why you left. you left because he can’t fathom why the relationship was going to hell. you had to break it off because johnny was a sinking ship and you refuse to drown with him, no matter how much you might adore him.

that was johnny's breaking point and he hasn't been the same since.

while he dated you, he created his most iconic and best selling music that topped all the charts. you were his once-in-a-lifetime muse, and the world knew that.

but when you broke up, he lost that spark. his heart strings were torn apart and he couldn't pick up the guitar for months.

the only time he picked up the guitar was to play a solemn a-b-c tune while he recited the tragic poetry of his heart.

he'd release a few more singles that could all be chalked up to a last ditch effort of staring into the void and expelling the demons of his heart.

"Never Fade Away" was the last song johnny ever performed. that song was an homage to your memory and how you'd never fade from his own memories.

2023

it's been a year since you broke up with johnny and it hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows for you, despite what johnny likes to tell the media.

there were countless nights where he was holding you from behind, his steady breath a calm rhythm in your ear, but you'd wake up everytime in a gasp, frantically searching for him on his side of the bed.

it took you months to finally wash the sheets because you wanted his scent to linger for as long as possible. his cologne that mixed with his musk.

the first few months were wretched, but you grew to resent him. deep down you still ached for his touch, but you had to lie and say you wanted him dead, if not, then the aching pain of his memory would kill you first.

august 20th, 2023. a day that was supposed to blur into the past endless days, but the last thing you expected was to see the man of your dreams—and nightmares—wearing a bulletproof vest and riding in a militech helicopter.

similarly, the last thing johnny expected was to see the architect of his heartbreak walking out of the Arasaka building.

waves of emotions flashed across his face—awe, joy, hurt, and finally resentment. 

johnny's scowl deepened and his resolve strengthened. Arasaka was not only the architect of his filthy world, but also stole the love of his life.

it wasn't rational to think that, but when has johnny ever been rational?

just moments before, johnny only planned to tear down the building. but now that he's seen you—walking out of that corrupt building with all of your lavish clothes and accessories—his aim shifted.

Arasaka stole everything from him. they ruined him. he has nothing left to lose.

in that moment, he made his peace with death. 

he overtook the machine gun and let out a visceral warcry that he’s been choking down for years— everyone would pay for his pain and suffering. 

august 21st, 2023, the very next day. over 4,000 dead, a crazy terrorist group, and you at the epicenter of it all.

some would brush you off as irrelevant, others would dub you as the “terrorist’s girlfriend”, blaming you for the demise of a beloved singer. 

but despite the chaos of the outside world, you could feel your internal universe crumble. johnny’s body hasn’t been found yet but you are sure that he’s gone. 

you’re so sure because you felt the deepest part of your soul chip off. the connection is severed. there’s a void inside of you, and you know all-too-well what johnny used to say about an abyss.

“If you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you.”

a/n: i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging since it helps my account! :) DON'T BE A GHOST READER!!!! i would love to hear your thoughts and opinions, and comments are what keep writers going &lt;3 i'm open to cyberpunk requests so feel free to send me one <3 also, lmk if y'all wanna see more idol!reader content and/or have any ideas since i'm kinda rocking with it :) as always, have a great day and i'll see y'all in the next one <3

[silverarmed]

hi! i’m sophie (she/they, 24) and sooo excited to finally be here! on the menu today we have a heavily revamped muse of mine, seo miyun or as she prefers to be called, yun. she’s a 28 yo maintenance worker with cyborg physiology, currently not on her second, third, but fourth chance at a better life. further info and links can be found under the cut. to avoid me ending up in jail, feel free to message me first to plot + i'm also available on d*sc*rd! <3

links stats / story / powers / trivia

summary tws: child abandonment, child abuse, drug abuse

her first chance at a better life was given to her shortly after her birth. her single mother dropped her off at the steps of an orphanage, hoping a caring family would adopt her. instead, she was taken in by one of eden’s most radical anti-metahuman politicians. the moment her ability manifested at the age of nine, her adoptive parents locked her away from the outside world, ashamed of the monster that infiltrated their home.

her second chance was given to her at the age of fifteen. her extended family found out that she was a metahuman and told the press. she became somewhat of a political symbol, especially that she was surrendered again. instead of letting someone else adopt her again or going to the aeternal academy at eighteen, she decided to reconnect with her biological mother instead.

her third chance was given to her at the age of twenty-one. after finding out that her unemployed mother had been spending her hard earned money on alcohol and drugs instead of paying the bills, yun moved out and got affiliated with daemon. she was a fighter with a decent winning streak for about four years before she was caught taking kickers and sent to seongdong correctional facility.

her fourth chance is given to her now, at the age of twenty-eight. thanks to her good behavior, she’s out a few years earlier than she should be, keeping a low profile as one of the maintenance workers in the apartment complex.

because of her primary ability (cyborg physiology), her brain is half biological and half technological. this means she's pretty sharp-witted, but also not as in tune with her emotions as other people are. also has a monotone, borderline robotic voice that can be pretty distressing to deal with at first. infamously hates literature and modern art because she just doesn't understand it.

yes, the blog name did not lie, she does have a silver arm — her right one, in fact! it's her only visible technological part for now. (fun fact: her daemon fighter alias used to be silver for this reason... but she hated it, please don't call her that.)

^ shoutout johnny silverhand

likes fixing things for tenants free of charge (she just wants to feel useful and capable) and playing video games in her spare time. uses her minor ability (electricity manipulation) to cheat when someone is mean to her in vc. 🤷‍♀️

veeery basic connection ideas

event #2 related: someone who dragged her along to the trip! she wouldn't go on her own (doesn't want to get her silver arm rusty + it heats up in the sun and it's just ew) but if someone begged her, she'd probably say yes!

yun has never had romantic feelings for anyone (surprise, surprise) so maybe someone who has a little crush on her and makes her question how anyone could even like her. (she’s questioning so anyone around her age is welcome!)

someone who regularly breaks the electronics in their unit and has her on speed dial. (she came to silver line about four months ago.)

a daemon regular or secret admirer who misses seeing her fight. (she started about seven years ago and retired three years ago.)

i was not here for the first event HOWEVER! it is safe to assume she was just down there working on the generator the whole time. maybe someone who brought her a snack or two as a way of saying thanks?

people who hate her and think she’s a bitch because she’s so cold and blunt all the time. little do they know, it’s just the cogs in her brain.

an angsty “two people trying to heal together but they keep treating each other like shit” connection, anyone? (bonus points if they have similar problems/backgrounds.)

[the-archangel]

V for Vengeance

This took ages and is very long I'm sorry! Might be better reading it on AO3 :)

“You don’t know what I’m thinking any more Johnny, leave me alone,” spits V as he stalks down the grimy, neon-flooded street with his collar up against the rain.

“Yeah, I kinda do,” the most recently appointed Afterlife merc explains as he rushes after him, “and this is a fucking gonk idea.”

V had been brewing for days, ever since Kerry told him about the time he’d been kidnapped and held to ransom by scavs. Kerry had intended it as an amusing drunken tale, it’d been all over in less than 24 hours and he’d been that high at the time he hadn’t really noticed it happening, but V was not so green when it came to dealing with scavs, he knew what would’ve happened if the record company hadn’t coughed up the eddies and was determined to fill in the details of the hours that they held the Rockerboy, no matter how unsavoury.

“Seriously V, it was twelve years ago, they’re all either dead or they’ve moved on by now.”

Stopping in his tracks, V looks intently at the dark-haired man, “You don’t have to come with me Johnny, I never asked you to.”

“I know,” answers Johnny darkly, “maybe you should’ve. You’ve got no idea what you’re looking for.”

“Neither have you! You were a data stream living in a freezer at the time, how exactly does that make you any more qualified than me to find them?” It’s a fair point, and one that V knows Johnny is not pleased to be reminded of. “Look, if you wanna help fine, just try not to be a pain in the ass.”

“Can’t promise anything,” Johnny mutters turning to follow his friend down the street.

-

Kerry had just done one of the best shows of his life – or so the bassist of his backing band tells him as he gives the Rockerboy a sloppy post-gig blow job, despite the best efforts of the younger musician it’s not a relationship, just a habit that they’ve fallen into.

Later, alone again, Kerry messages his kids telling them about the show and asking about their day. He never gets a reply, but he does it every damn day anyway. Then he calls his new manager to see how the attempt to copyright his image is going, but the fucker doesn’t answer, he never fucking answers, Kerry’s beginning to think he made a mistake hiring him. There’s one more call he thinks about making, but he’s had enough rejection this evening and so puts on a jacket and heads out to the waiting car. He doesn’t make it.

-

“Where’re we going?” Johnny shouts after V’s retreating back.

“Pacifica.” answers the other man.

“Woah, we’re not walking to fucking Pacifica.” states Johnny breathlessly as he catches up.

“Course not, there’s someone I need to speak to first.”

Afterlife is buzzing even at this time of the early afternoon, despite it now being V’s kingdom Johnny’s heart lifts a little at the thought of Rogue maybe being there, her visits are increasingly rare, but it is possible. They make their way over to the bar where V has a quick word with Clair before heading to his usual booth at the back, Johnny makes to follow until he sees who V is meeting, he sits at the bar instead nursing a tequila and glaring over petulantly.

“You’re lucky I was in town,” Panam tells V as he takes a seat opposite her and puts beers on the table between them, “another few hours and I’d have been showing this shithole my dust.”

“I know, thanks for meeting me, and…I’m sorry.”

The woman looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, “Luckily for you I’m a big girl capable of making my own decisions. Something more than we had might’ve been nice, but as far as flings go, it was one of my favourites.” she says taking a swig of beer and sitting back in her seat, one leg resting on the other and arms spread along the back, “But you’re still part of the clan whatever other shit you’ve pulled, what do you need?”

“Info,” says V leaning forward and looking at her seriously, “about twelve years ago Kerry was taken by some scavs, prolly took him somewhere into the Badlands, wondered if there had been any rumours, if anyone knew anything about what happened?”

“Can’t Kerry tell you anything? Surely he’s not gone senile just yet?” she asks with narrowed eyes and a half-smile.

“Heh, you’re a funny girl, but no. He was pretty out of it and he’s kinda blocked it out.” V winces internally at the lie. “So do you know anything?”

Panam takes another swig from her bottle and ponders the question, “Maybe. I was a teenager at the time, a feisty one too if you can believe it, Saul would sit me down and tell me all the reasons why my behaviour was dangerous, or bad for the clan.” V nods, he’s been at the receiving end of Saul’s lectures and knows what they can be like. “Anyway, this one time he was explaining why taking a bike and riding into the town was a dumb idea, he was even more riled than usual, said if the Raffen could swipe a rock star right from outside a stadium, one little girl on a bike would not be able to stop them taking her. Never connected the dots at the time, but I guess he was talking about Kerry.”

“The Raffen huh? I guessed as much, any idea where they took him?”

“No, they had a few bases at the time, I’ll mark them on a map for you.” she says producing a map and pen from her bag, “Saul was a big fan of Kerry’s, shame they never met.”

V hums in agreement, Saul always turned the radio up when one of Kerry’s songs came on and he’d told Kerry stories about the brusque clan leader many times, they could definitely have been chooms. “Thanks Panam, you’ve been a lot of help.”

Panam looks over his shoulder, “Who’s that guy you came in with? He’s been glaring at me for the whole conversation like I should know who he is.”

V chuckles, he often forgets that even people who met Johnny never actually saw Johnny. Before he can explain, the woman interjects,

“Fuck, that’s Johnny Silverhand. I recognise him from Saul’s album covers. That’s Johnny fucking Silverhand!”

Hearing his name, Johnny smiles warily and raises his glass in Panam’s direction.

“Why didn’t he come over with you?” she asks.

Still smiling, V looks over at the dark-haired merc at the bar and lowers his voice, “He’s kinda scared of you, you were pretty angry about him trying to kill me if you remember, he thinks you might try and break his balls over it or some shit.”

“That’s fair, but if the fucker is going with you, watch your back, he’d choose his ego over his chooms any day I’m guessing.”

Once maybe, but not anymore V thinks, but he just nods and finishes up his beer, “Look after yourself Panam, I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Mhm, don’t be a stranger.” the nomad replies giving him a curt nod and walking out of the booth.

Johnny watches as she leaves the bar, “Don’t say it Johnny.” V warns.

“Say what? That she has a nice ass? I’m only human.”

V groans and grabs his jacket from the bar stool, after a last catch-up with Clair they’re ready to leave.

“Need to get the truck from the garage,” V tells Johnny, “it’s gonna get pretty bumpy out there.”

-

Jogging to keep up with V’s accelerating strides, Johnny is struggling to understand the urgency, unsure as to why they need to head to Pacifica now rather than the morning, it is, after all, 12 years since the attack took place so one more day is unlikely to make much difference. V, on the other hand, can’t get there fast enough, the thoughts of what they might have done to Kerry in that time have been festering in his mind and he couldn’t look the man in the face again if he didn’t do something.

As if he’s read the ex-merc’s mind, the holo rings and Kerry’s tired face fills V’s vision. “Heeey V, missed ya today, what ya been doin’?”

“Just dealing with some business Ker, like I said this morning it might take a couple of days. How’s the song coming along?”

The Rockerboy’s lip curls into a grimace, “Meh, can’t seem to get into the groove, y’know I worry about you when you go out on jobs. Throws me off.”

“I promise I’ll be careful and I’ll call you in the morning, get some sleep babe, be back before you know it.”

“Kay V, love ya.”

“You too ya gonk.” V says softy as the call disconnects and he rubs his temple with his fingertips, it’s been a long day and it’s not over yet, “Johnny, you OK to drive? If I don’t lie down, I’ll fall down.”

“Sure, where we going?”

“The stadium.”

-

Johnny had only been up a few hours having not got home until the early hours. He’d thrown himself into the merc work and mostly enjoyed it, but music was still his passion, so he’d been doing the rounds of the open mike nights – heavily disguised of course – just to keep his hand in. Problem was, compared to his old stuff, what he’s writing now is shit. The tunes are fine but he’s struggling to find the lyrics; before, he channelled his lust, anger and vitriol into the words, now all he feels is apathy most of the time. He hates to admit it but, he needs help, he needs Kerry, and if helping V with his gonk plan gets him back in Kerry’s good books then it’s all going to be worth it.

-

Pulling in at the stadium parking lot, Johnny spends a moment taking in how shitty Pacifica had become over the years. He can still remember when it was the promised land, corpos filling the hotels and beaches, not this gang run nightmare before him. It vaguely occurs to him that it’s at least partly his fault, but such thinking could lead to madness so he tucks the thought away to be chewed over another time.

“V, wake up sleeping beauty, we’re here.”

Groggily, the younger man groans and sits up in his seat, “What time is it?” he asks yawning.

“Just after midnight, not much point looking around in the dark, may as well hang here until the sun comes up in a few hours.”

“No way,” stresses V, already getting out of the truck, “this is the perfect time.”

A perplexed Johnny once more finds himself jogging to catch up to his friend, what is he possibly hoping to find after twelve years in the middle of the night?

The stadium is in darkness, the sputtering street lights only adding to the gloom. V stands, hands on hips surveying the side of the building, scanning the area and sighing. The building hadn’t changed much since it was built sixty years ago, flimsy doors, non-existent security, pretty much what he expected, but what had changed was the area. A stadium built so that high-rolling customers could watch a show or game whilst staying in one of the nearby five-star hotels was now next to a derelict shopping mall in what looked like a war zone. Sure, it could still get the big-name acts, but they would travel in from somewhere more salubrious, maybe a place in the City Centre, whilst the audience would make their weary way back to their homes, never once thinking of staying in Pacifica for the evening, no matter how convenient.

  Although terrible for Pacifica, this is in fact great for V’s purposes, the same bums and low-lives have been hanging around the stadium for years and their information is cheaply bought. The nearest liquor store is not far away, Johnny follows his friend hopefully inside grimacing as he chooses two of the cheapest 6-packs available and then helps him carry the bags back to a wall near the stadium. “Now what?” he asks.

“Now, we wait,” the other man replies, popping the cap off a beer and wrinkling his nose at the first sip. They don’t need to wait long, a dishevelled, grey-haired man comes shambling towards them with a younger, twitchy-faced man at his side.

“Care for some company chooms?” he asks in a surprisingly refined voice.

“Sure thing, wanna drink?” The older man nods emphatically, while the younger sits silently crossed-legged, glaring at Johnny and V between violent tics.

The conversation is moved along from government conspiracies (probable) and the latest sightings of a mothman (unlikely but possible) to the things celebrities will do for attention, V’s attention has been wavering for a while, tiredness having caught up with him, but the mention of his mainline’s name, as well as a sharp dig in the ribs from Johnny, perks him up.

“That there Eurodyne fella, they reckon it was all for publicity, saw it with my own eyes…”

“Wait, what?” asks V suddenly wide awake, “You saw Kerry Eurodyne being kidnapped?”

“If that’s what it was, he walked out with them friendly as anything, got in the car no problem, chatting like they were best chooms.”

V is momentarily stunned into silence, processing what he’s being told, “What…what kinda car was it?”

“Nothin fancy, some sort of Thorton. Remember thinking what an odd shade of blue it was, like the sky at dusk.”

Johnny interjects, “Yeah, poetic as all shit choom, tell us everything.”

-

The concert goers had generally been a happy and generous bunch, the bum and his chooms had made a good few euros and scored a few beers and were sat, nicely mellow, waiting for their second chance as the crowds emerged from the stadium. Before that could happen, a side door swings open and a smiling Kerry strides out to the waiting car flanked by what looks like a couple of suited bodyguards and followed by a red-haired woman with a Valentino’s jacket and a distinctive silver leg. In his youth, the man had been a huge fan of Eurodyne’s, posters all over the walls, shelf full of his records, but he hadn’t been so keen on some of his poppy later stuff, so it’s with detached interest that he watches the Rockerboy be led out to the car and directed into the back seat. He seemed in good spirits, clearly high as a kite and slightly unsteady, but not seeming to be in any discomfort, for which V was grateful.

V and Johnny leave the men with what’s left of the beers and make their way back to their car, V is quiet and pensive which is making Johnny nervous.

“They tricked him,” V concludes, “they knew how confused he got when he’d been partying and they tricked him.”

Johnny tries to hide a smirk, the thought of Kerry being so out of it that he didn’t even know he was being kidnapped not only seemed likely, it was not even the first time it had happened. There was that time out in Miami in the 20’s when a deranged fan took him home and fed him pizza and copious amounts of wine before the rocker was found wandering the streets the next morning in a borrowed tuxedo, but V doesn’t need to hear about that just now.

The description of the red-haired woman is making V’s brain itch, there’s something familiar that he can’t quite put his finger on. Johnny drives them into the Badlands whilst V leaves a message for the Padre and falls into a disturbed slumber.

-

In his dreams, V’s leaning on a bar listening as Kerry tells him about his day at the studio. The Rockerboy is hyped and animated, pacing the room and drinking from a tequila bottle. He comes over placing his hand on the ex-merc’s chest and leaning into a sloppy kiss that ends with a bite on the bottom lip hard enough to raise a gasp.

“Something to remember me by.” Kerry smirks as he pulls away.

“Why, you going somewhere?”

Kerry puts his hand on the door to the exit and turns, smiling sadly. Then he’s just gone, disappeared. V searches the room frantically, calling Kerry’s name and pushing on the door, but no one answers and the door won’t budge, then Johnny’s voice is calling him,

“V, shut your whining. You woke me up from a real nice dream you fucker.”

-

The truck is where Johnny parked it in the early hours, shaded from the mid-morning sun by a boulder which also serves to shield them from the road. V groans and stretches, he’s had the full eight hours for the first time in weeks, but still feels like he’s been kicked in the head, and back, and kidneys. “Where are we?” he asks the grumpy ex-rocker groggily.

“’Bout five miles west of Panam’s first marker on the map.”

Nodding, V gingerly leaves the truck, rubbing life back into his legs he leans against the rock to take a much-needed piss, cursing softly as a call comes midway through. Thinking it best to leave the call on audio only for now he greets the caller as cheerily as he can manage, “Morning Padre, thanks for getting back to me.”

“Always a pleasure to be able to help out a brother in need. What can I do for you?”

“The woman I described; do you have any info on her? She rings a bell with me but I just can’t place why.”

“She is called Selene, she was a friend of your mother’s when you were very small, but she left the fold twenty years or so back, went to live with the Nomads so I heard. If you find her, tell her she is forgiven and will be welcomed back.”

“Selene, of course! Any idea which clan she went with?”

“Nothing for sure, though I think the Raffen would be her style.”

V sighs, it’s what he expected if he’s honest, but he hoped otherwise. “Any ideas where she is now?”

“None. I am expecting another call, but wish you luck in your endeavour.”

Thanking the Padre, V wanders back to the truck checking the map and planning a route for the day, he flops down next to Johnny with his back leaning on the tyre of the truck and takes the cig from the other man’s fingers. “I’m thinking if we work smart, we can cover all three camps before dark, then this time tomorrow we can be heading back.”

Johnny nods, working smart is not something he’s often accused of but he can give it a try.

-

V drives the truck to within a couple of miles of the first possible camp, concealing it as best he can between two ridges and makes his way to higher ground with Johnny following grumbling behind.

“Don’t know why we had to set off so fucking early, it’s not like they’re going anywhere. And what’s with all this fucking gear we’re carrying? There’s, like, an arsenal and enough water for a week, I thought we were here for the day not setting up camp.”

V gives a half-smile as he squints at the horizon, Johnny’s whining is actually quite a comfort to him, it means the world is working as it should, “You’d be surprised how much water you get through in the desert Johnny, and we don’t know what we’re up against, better to be over-prepared than under don’t’cha think?”

Johnny grunts non-committally and returns to his binoculars, “What exactly are we looking for?”

“Any sign of movement, the camp should be over to the East by those rocks, looks abandoned but we don’t want to go storming in and find a cave full of scavs coming out to meet us.”

 Having established that the camp at least appears to be all quiet, the boys stay low as far as possible and cover the last two miles without incident. The camp has clearly been abandoned for some time; empty crates litter the ground inside the mouth of the cave which was the main living quarters of the camp. Mildewed bunk-beds line the walls, nothing of value has been left behind, no handy clues. Sitting in the mouth of the cave sharing a bottle of water and a cig, V optimizes the route to the next camp whilst Johnny squints critically at a shard he’d found on one of the bunks,

“The Benefits and Drawbacks of Adaptive Technology and its Impact on Society at Large, huh.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothin, just some chip I found.” explains Johnny tossing it in his backpack to maybe read on the boring ride back later.

-

Their next destination is almost thirty miles to the north mostly over flat ground but the last few miles are a challenge even for the Mackinaw that bounces from dune to dune and jostles its passengers unrelentingly. Johnny clings onto the grab handle biting back his criticisms of V’s driving for fear of being left in the middle of nowhere to find his own way back. It’s a good choice. V had also had enough of the challenging terrain and was in no mood to deal with Johnny’s shit.

“Gonna have to park up for a while, this shitty truck is gonna work my optics loose if we carry on much longer.”

“I think there’s a gas station just up there,” Johnny points hopefully towards a fuzzy, gas-station shaped building on the horizon, “we could aim for that, regroup, grab some food.”

Food sounded good, they hadn’t eaten since the previous evening and the sun is now right overhead, there’s some jerky and trail mix in the truck, but they hadn’t got quite that desperate yet. The building is indeed a gas station, not only that but there is an outdoor seating area where they now are eating reheated burritos and sipping on mercifully chilled water. Johnny squirms uncomfortably in his seat, there are many benefits to having a flat ass, leather trousers hang well, chicks dig it, but long road journeys are just a pain in it.

“So, what’s the next plan of action?” he asks V in between bites of his disappointingly bland lunch.

“The guy in the store said there’s still some Scav action out here from time to time, so we don’t wanna go storming in, just in case. We’re still about four miles out, just over that ridge should be an old farm that they were using as a base.” V tells Johnny indicating a distant sand dune. “We get the truck to this side of the ridge, sneak around and see what we can see.”

Johnny nods, aiming his screwed up empty foil into the trash and smirking as he hears it rattle around the can and hit the bottom.

-

“Shit.” hisses V as he scans the farm buildings from the top of the ridge. There is clearly movement, things being loaded onto trucks. It looks like they might have caught the goons just as they’re moving on, which does not suit their purposes at all.

“Think fast Johnny, what do we do?”

Johnny looks up briefly whilst lighting his cig, the light of the match illuminating the surprised look on his face, since when does V ask his advice about merc work? “We could wait til one of them is separate from the group and bring them over for a little chat?”

“Mhm, there’s a guy over there keeps disappearing off for a smoke, we could follow the ridge around and see where he goes.”

Just as V had said, around five minutes later the man dumps a crate in the van and makes to the back of the substantial barn where the van is parked, the mercs (V is allowing himself the title back, just for a couple of days) follow along and down the ridge until the sharp smell of the man’s sweat and cheap cologne assaults their noses. Luckily for them, he is concerned only with checking his messages and not expecting to be forcibly dragged over the rocky ground with a gun to his head and a hand over his mouth.

They really should have decided what to ask him before dragging him behind the ridge, after all, he was clearly too young to have any knowledge of the kidnapping, fortunately he helps them out,

“Aw I knew you’d catch up to me sooner or later, I’ll tell you anything and I’ll run to the hills if you let me go, you’ll never hear from me again.”

Johnny and V have no idea who the guy thinks they are, but can’t pass up such an opportunity,

“We’ll think on that,” Johnny tells him, “all depends on how good the info you give us is.”

“Looks like you’ve been keeping busy,” V chips in, “what have you been doing out here these past few, er, weeks?”

As promised, the man spills everything, the camp has been here for several months though he’s only been with them for three weeks, other than a few local raids nothing of any note has happened. They are moving East to an old warehouse that was used in the 60’s as a base, to join with another faction in order to pull off some heist. The whole shebang is being run by a woman with faded red hair who’s name he didn’t catch who was here a couple of days ago but has since returned to the warehouse.

With a pistol-backed warning not to look back, they watch the man sprint into the distance and think about their next move. The warehouse seems to be the last place Panam marked on their map so they don’t need to follow the goons in order to find it, in fact it would be better to get there before them so that there’s less to deal with, but not searching the farmhouse might lead to them missing a vital clue.

“How sneaky are you feeling?” V asks Johnny.

“I can do it if I have to, but I’d rather just shoot them in the head.”

“Maybe when your aim improves, we’ll go with your plan, until then, follow me up to the back window.”

Johnny opens his mouth to say something, but for once thinks better of it and follows V up onto a dumpster, across an awning and in through a handily open window, dropping silently on the other side into what appears to be a command centre of sorts. There are tables and chairs scattered around, empty wrappers and cups, but nothing that presents as a clue.

The next room has been used as sleeping quarters, sheets are strewn around, pillows scattered, and the smell from the unwashed linen and half-eaten food left on all the available surfaces is almost unbearable, Johnny finds it almost overwhelming, he’s still getting used to having his senses back and is having to fight against the urge to pass out from the stench.

The last room on this floor is smaller but had been kept neat. There’s a cot in the corner with the sheets removed and a few bits of sparse, but clean furniture.

“Nothing in here to see,” says V rattling a drawer back into place just as a goon, who’d been hiding behind the door waiting to make his move, hits him clumsily but solidly on the shoulders and flies towards the stairs to make his escape. Johnny takes chase narrowly avoiding a door to the face as the man flees the building, he needs to bring him down before he can alert his chooms and so dives for his legs sending him heavily onto the gravel and drags him, thankfully dazed and quiet, back into the house. Meanwhile, V gingerly opens one eye staring into the painful void before him, his optics soon adjust and the bedroom floor slowly slides into focus.

A dull thud and a muffled groan later, Johnny reappears and offers his hand to help the fixer up, he grudgingly accepts and leans his weight onto the Rockerboy as they make their way gingerly down the stairs and over the battered body of the fallen goon to watch the outside activities through a grimy, cracked window.

“The way I see it,” offers V massaging life back into his left shoulder, “we can either wait here until they leave and check the place out properly, or forget about here and make our way to the warehouse while it’s still light and before it’s full of murderous Scavs.”

It’s a no-brainer, a couple of minutes later they are back in the truck putting together a route away from the roads leading from the farm and sharing a cigarette. The devil in Johnny has a question to ask, “How d’you think Kerry’s gonna feel when he finds out you’ve done all of this without asking him?”

“Well he’ll…” V realises that, in a certain light, his actions could be construed as selfish, controlling even. Although he meant well, he hadn’t really considered Kerry’s feelings in all of this, there might even be a reason he never told the whole story. “I just need to call someone…” he murmurs, leaving the truck and disappearing around the corner.

Some minutes later a red-cheeked ex-merc hops back into the truck and silently starts it up, knuckles white on the steering wheel, Johnny gives it a few minutes but has to ask,

“Kerry is pretty mad OK?”

Johnny nods, he knows how Kerry gets when he feels betrayed, he realises that, to his surprise, he feels bad for his friend.

“He said that I shouldn’t’ve gone without telling him where I was going and that I shouldn’t’ve put myself in danger for him and that we were gonna have to have a talk when I get back.”

“Aw V I’m sorry…”

“Nah, it’s fine. Think he just wants to vent at me. Had to promise to call him every couple of hours and to tell him everything we find out, he really can’t remember what happened and wants to know, even if it’s real bad.”

-

It’s a long and boring journey to their final destination, Johnny has been on a self-improvement kick lately and decides to look at the shard he found earlier. He was expecting a book, but opening the case he realises that The Benefits and Drawbacks of Adaptive Technology and its Impact on Society at Large is in fact a BD, possibly the dullest one ever but a BD just the same. Rummaging around in the glove compartment he finds a wreath and settles back in his seat ready to expand his mind. Twenty minutes later his mind is definitely blown, though not necessarily improved in any way.

“V, choom, you gotta see this,” he says groggily, clumsily pulling the BD wreath through his tangled hair.

“No thanks, m’driving. Not a good mix dipshit. Besides, sounds super-dull.”

“So pull over, I promise you, you REALLY need to see this.”

-

The scene opens with a stuffy lecturer in an office outlining how far cybernetics have come in the last hundred years, never one for schooling V can feel himself drifting off, but less than three minutes in the scene abruptly switches to a smoke-filled room, possibly a bar, with a dozen or more people sat at makeshift seats and tables. V recognises one, “That’s Selene!” he says out loud to Johnny. A commotion indicates another person entering the room, a slightly dishevelled Kerry comes stumbling in with hair flopping rakishly over one eye and his denim shirt open to expose his recently installed chrome. V adjusts himself in his seat, damn that man is hot.

“…and then later that night, “Kerry was clearly part way through a story when he had left the room, “he came over again. Can you believe it? But this time with a gun and a bag full of drugs. Security fucked him up and threw him out and the drugs made for a preem after-show party!”

The assembled ‘audience’ laugh and clap, an inhaler makes its way around the room as do various bottles, all of which Kerry happily partakes in. The next few minutes are mostly this, blurry partying and a babble of chatter, the room seems to be hanging on every word the Rockerboy says and Kerry is lapping it up. Suddenly, the atmosphere changes. The recording whips around to focus on the red-haired woman who seems to be receiving a call, biting her bottom lip and nodding slightly as her eyes glow green. The room quietens, even Kerry, though he seems to be in some kind of drug and alcohol induced stupor anyway. The camera follows Selene out of the room into a gravel patch covered with parked cars and overlooked by an old wind turbine,

“Jeez, are you sure?” she asks, “I mean, of course I believe you but he’s a rock star for fucks sake, there must be somebody who’ll pay. What about the ex-wife?” Selene nods again, “What a bitch, I thought they had kids? And they say we’re the bad guys. OK, fine, it’s a shame though, he seems like a nice guy.” Her eyes dull as the call ends, she checks her revolver and strides back into the bar.

A whispered conversation later the filming cuts off as Kerry is being man-handled off the tatty sofa.

-

V removes the wreath and sits stunned in the driver’s seat of his truck not quite sure what to do next, Johnny gently takes it from his hands throwing it onto the rear seats and looks at his friend with concern. “You good?”

“I guess.” V replies thoughtfully, “He can’t know.”

Johnny nods in agreement, “So where next?”

“We carry on,” decides V, “still don’t know what happened next. I mean, they didn’t flatline him, why not? Gonna talk to Selene.”

-

Dusk is approaching when they reach their final destination, as it draws near the familiar outline of the now even more dilapidated wind turbine hovers into view. “This is the place,” Johnny erroneously announces. “We just gonna walk in and start shooting?”

“Jeez Johnny of course not, we want information don’t we, not total carnage?”

Johnny shrugs in a non-committal way.

V had just come off a holo-call with Kerry, he had told him about the bar, about the scavs hanging on his every word and about how hot he looked. He felt bad not telling him the whole truth, but just couldn’t see what good it would do. “You can stay in the truck; I’m going in to talk to them.”

The old Rockerboy was about to argue, the look on V’s face was more than enough to stop him. “Just be careful, I don’t wanna have to explain to Kerry why you’re coming home in the trunk and not the passenger seat.”

Leaving the truck and passing his half-done smoke over to Johnny, V puts his hands deep into his pockets and begins to walk towards the warehouse building, well-aware that there would have been eyes on him from the get go. Johnny has his eyes on a sniper behind an upstairs window, but for now V appears safe from their target practice.

As he nears, V puts his hands in the air and turns around then, a couple of meters from the door he stands and waits.

Up until now, the goons have not shown themselves though it’s obvious they’re around, dozens of vehicles are strewn around the gravel and a deep-thumping beat can be heard coming from inside. A hum indicates the rising of the shutters, rust rains down as they rattle open and a man of indeterminate middle-age dressed in makeshift armour appears.

“Don’t move. Who are you and whaddya want?”

“Name’s V,“ he yells across the distance cocking his head to one side, “your goons can stand down. Just want to talk to Selene.”

The name obviously means something to the other man, he raises an eyebrow and comes a little closer to the ex-merc. “And what’s your biz with Selene?” he hisses.

“No biz, she was a friend of my mom, just wanna talk to her.”

“Vincent?”

The deep, southern tones of the woman he knew in his youth are unmistakable,

“Selene, yeah, erm, hi.”

The chrome is covered in a dark blue boiler-suit and her always striking green eyes are hidden behind shades, but the red hair, less vibrant but still luxurious would have given her away anyway.

“Vincent honey, it’s been twenty years. Why you out here looking for me in the ass-end of nowhere?”

“Twenty-two, just wanted your help with something.” V says cautiously lowering his arms.

“Course sugar, come inside. How’s Martha?” The woman asks, wrapping her arm around V’s waist in a way that seems oddly familiar and leads him inside.

Small-talk exhausted, V is led down a narrow, graffitied corridor and into what seems to be a common-room of sorts. Selene clearly has some power, the assembled goons are variously reverential, sycophantic or dangerously protective, V has rarely missed the comfort of a revolver in his pocket as much as he does right now.

-

Back at the truck, Johnny is making bad decisions, having thankfully dismissed the idea of going in after V with all guns blazing regardless, he has now decided that since he is out of the way for a little while it’s a good time to call Kerry.

No one answers the first time, it’s early evening so Kerry could be getting ready to go out, or maybe napping, there’s even a possibility he’s just ignoring the call. Johnny tries again, this time an annoyed face fills his optics almost straight away,

“What?”

“And a good evening to you too Kerry.” Kerry rolls his eyes and waits for Johnny to continue. “Just thought we could, you know, catch up.”

The white-haired Rockerboy stares back incredulously,

“I saw you a week ago when you came bothering Vince, more’s the pity, had nothing to say to you then, even less now.”

“Ker, we’re going through some stuff to help you out here, a little bit of….”

“Whaddya mean ‘we’? Shiiiiiiit, you’re there with him aren’t you? You’re both gonna fucking get killed. If he gets hurt cause you fucked up I’m gonna personally rip off that good arm at hit you with the wet end. Sheesh. What you bothering me for anyway...has something happened?” Kerry asks in sudden alarm.

Johnny shakes his head in what he hopes is a comforting manner, “Chill choom, he’s just talking to some chick,” Johnny notices Kerry bristle slightly, “we’re nearly done, should be back in a few hours. I was thinking…maybe we could…y’know, get together for a jam when we get back?”

The other man puts the drink he is holding carefully down on the coffee table and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Say that again.”

“I just thought, we could maybe, recapture a bit of that old magic.” Johnny says awkwardly.

“You know I don’t need this right?” asks Kerry, “My last album went fucking platinum over night, I sell out stadiums choom. What’s in it for me?”

“V would like it if we got along.” Johnny wasn’t trying to score a point, merely musing, but it strikes a chord with Kerry nonetheless.

Kerry sighs, “Fine we’ll give it a try. If I hear the magic word.”

Johnny still can’t get used to Kerry having the upper hand, but he needs him on side, “OK fine, please.”

“Get that man back in one piece and we’ll talk.” The call cuts off abruptly and Johnny slumps back into his seat, that’s the scariest shit he’s done all day.

-

V is sat looking more confident than he feels opposite Selene at a rickety wooden table in a room reminiscent of the one on the BD. He’s hyper-aware of being watched by several pairs of distrustful eyes, even if he wanted to try something stupid, he’d never make it out alive.

“I doubt you really came all this way to talk over old times,” says the woman softly, “I’ve seen the scream sheets, the feeds, you’re seeing that Rockerboy feller, that Kerry Eurodyne. If you’re here for vengeance it’s not gonna end well for you Vincent my sweet boy.”

“No, not vengeance. We found this.” V hands the shard over to Selene who hisses through her teeth and whispers urgently to one of the assembled goons.

“Someone fucked up, that’s not for public consumption, but if not vengeance then why are you here?”

“Information. Kerry clearly didn’t get flatlined that night, made it home safe the next day, how? Why? What happened in between?”

Selene sits back in her chair staring V in the eye like she’s deciding which version of the story to tell, she decides on the truth…

-

The car is crowded, the two scavs are in the back with Kerry slumped between them and Selene with her bodyguard driving are in the front. “Where we taking him?” asks the burly hustle.

“Out to Biotechnica Flats, but near the highway so that he’ll be found quickly, can’t let the Corpo scum think they can take us for a joke, I think they’ll get the message when their poster boy is being brought home in a body bag.”

Around half an hour into the incredibly dull journey a deep voice pipes up from the rear seats, “Hey, erm, Selene, I don’t think he’s breathin’.”

“Shit, shit, shit. Stop the car!”

In some ways, this is ideal, saves them a messy and unpleasant job, but having him flatline from an overdose of partying rather than a gunshot isn’t exactly the message they’re trying to send. The car squeals to a halt on the deserted highway and the men in the back drag Kerry’s unresponsive body onto the scorching tarmac, where he sustains his only major injury of the night, a cracked elbow.

“Fucking Hell Clive, do something.” Selene screams at the bodyguard, but his specialty is bullets not heart attacks so he stands staring with the rest of them, until…

“Of course he’s got Trauma Team Platinum.” Sighs an exasperated Selene as the distinctive AV hovers into view. “Leave him, we need to delta. If they see us we’re fucked.”

The quartet hastily scramble back into the car and, with a screech of tyres, turn back towards the warehouse leaving the Rockerboy at the side of the road. Selene watches the action through the rear camera, as he gets lifted into the AV she reflects on how fucked they’re all going to be when the boss finds out.

-

“And we’re you? Fucked I mean.”

“Woo yeah, got my guys taken off of me, lost my position, my son, Charlie, got shipped to the other side of the country. It was rough. But you know what? I was glad he got away, he seemed like a good guy. Not his fault the corpos and his shitty ex fucked him over, yeah it was fine. I still smile whenever I see him on TV or hear him on the radio, and when I heard that my little Vinny was his mainline I knew it had happened for a reason.”

Selene takes V’s hand and leans forward to look into his eyes, “I’m pleased for you, of how things have turned out, but you know a lot about us now, where we live, what we do, and I can’t hold these guys back forever. You need to leave and don’t talk to anybody about what you’ve seen and heard here.”

V nods and Selene walks him to the shutters and out, “Be safe V,” she looks over to the truck, “and say Hi to Johnny, we had a lotta fun back in the day.” V hides his shock well and heads back to the truck to meet Johnny who is leaning fluidly against the passenger door.

“So, did ya find out what you wanted to know?”

V thinks for a moment lighting a cigarette and passing it to Johnny, “I can’t say that I wanted to know all that, I’ll tell you about it on the way home.”

-

The story does not surprise Johnny in the least, Kerry’s behaviour was pretty standard even back in the Samurai days, ‘cept back then it was a hopeful punch to the chest or a friendly ripperdoc that brought him back around. “How much you gonna tell him?”

V gives a deep sigh, “Just what he needs to know, tricked by scavs, rescued by Trauma Team, no need for the rest.”

Johnny nods, lying to save someone’s feelings doesn’t really sit well with him but it’s not his biz, and V’s right, Kerry doesn’t need to know the rest.

The ex-merc’s optics glow green as a call comes in, his favourite face fills the screen, “V, hey. I miss you, you heading back? Find anything out?”

“Not much, be home soon. I’ll tell you then…Ker?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

[vvo1d1ing]

I should mention my track record with fictional men who I spend too long thinking about and how I categorize them;

Hannibal Lecter - My first love, My muse, you will notice my love for him in everything I create, he will never leave my heart because he is what made me realize I have one. He treated me so well

Johnny Silverhand - My toxic side piece, this man came in my world, broke MY heart and then left me a lifeless husk, smh,, i still cry about him at times,,,,,

Zenos (Yae) Galvus - HE FIXED ME. HE MADE ME PICK MYSELF UP WHEN I WAS AT MY LOWEST. THIS BPD ASS HAVING BITCH UNDERSTOOD ME, SAW ME FOR ME. WE ARE MARRIED NOW. HE IS MY FIRST HUSBAND. FUCK OFF.

Emet-Selch - Second husband, we aren't on the best of terms since he decided to stop being a silly lil insane clown dude. We are fine now but man, I miss his evil shenanigans

Astarion Ancunin - My new, third husband. He's currently fine but I'm sure after a while I can convince him to actually be a worst person than what he ever was because as we established, I love 'em fucked and insane like me

Lord Enver Gortash - The rat living in my brain walls, I called the exterminator but he made it worse. Now the rat is asking me to pay rent even though I own the place AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY HE IS THERE

[timaeusterrored]

Bad Romance by Lady Gaga is so silverdyne coded it hurts my whole

Especially the “I want you love, I don’t wanna friends”

UGH THEY HURT MEEEE