middleofsomewhere | What their Eyes See: Start

What their Eyes See: Start

"Good Morning Voidtreckers, today is day five of the month of Llama." The voice echoes through the train as passengers wake up in their beds. Not long afterwards their SCA’s glow with the colour of the void and a holographic image will appear.

Preperation and Arrival

As usual they have a couple of hours before arrival to ready themselves for the mission ahead. As promised the dressing carriage is open for them to find suitable clothing. Trench coats, a lot of leather, a lot of black with neon colours thrown in here and there. There is a lot of choice in a variety of sizes so everyone is bound to find something to fit. Hopefully something they like, though some passengers may be more comfortable with the fashion choices than others.

A couple of hours after the announcement of the mission the voice speaks again. "Shortly arriving in system #93426194992. Arriving in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one." The train shakes as it leaves the void, colours fading to be replaced to a grey thick smog outside the windows.

The train bumps slightly as it hits rails, snaking its way towards the city before entering a tunnel. A few moments and they come to a stop, the doors open onto a platform. Stepping out into the station the first thing to hit them is noise, it sounds like there are ten different advertisements blaring, someone or something is playing loud music. There's a lot of flashing signs, screens with advertisements, bright lights that change colour for no real apparant reason. Heavy on the senses as they make their way to the gates.

They will find that their SCAs allow them through the barriers and into the wider train station, which is somehow even louder. It is busy as well, people hurrying from place to place. There are signs declaring this to be Tier Three, Home of Manufacturing. as well as signs pointing the way to lifts, to take them to other tiers.

Tier One

Mapping

For those travelling up to tier one the first thing they will notice when they leave the lift is, it is a lot quieter up here. Peaceful even, there are people around, all looking official and busy. None will pay the Voidtreckers any mind unless they are acting particularly suspicious.

The air feels better here, probably because the whole tier is encased with a dome that they will be able to see as they enter, coming from a lift near the edge of the tier. The buildings are all harsh dark metal, almost uniform in design. The streets are clean and there has been an attempt at greenery with some shrubs and simple plants.

The buildings all need to be accessed using their SCA's. Their SCA maps show them where the buildings are but give no information about them, nor do they have maps of inside. Once the voidtreckers enter they will find that their maps fill in as they explore.

There are plenty of different buildings, offices, labs and meeting rooms. There are also a lot of security staff and anyone acting too suspiciously will be approached and questioned. Hopefully they have a plan, blend in or sneak around.

Flickers

Sometimes though that is a little harder, they might enter a room to find themselves on their old street, in a world they have visited before on the train or somewhere else that is decidedly not here. These illusions get more common as time goes on and people will begin seeing the illusions of others or find the two scenes merging together.

Voidtreckers who are immune to illusions will not see these strange visions and those who are particularly strong willed will be able to fight them off. Once people know they are illusions they can focus through them to see reality even if it is overlaid with what their minds want to see. It will take a lot of concentration to stay focused and get an accurate map.

Tier Two

A Mystery

The lift here brings them out into a glass covered corridor. Outside the glass the air is thick with smog but the filtration systems means that the air seems fine inside, especially with their SCA's helping out. Outside the tunnels they will be able to see the lights of hovercars zipping around and the silhouettes of buildings. Office blocks and large houses make up this sector. Large billboards blare out advertisements at all hours, neon lights shining through the smog.

The atmosphere of the sector is one of fear, people hurry about their business, keeping an wary eye on their surroundings. The newcomers won't get too much scrutiny but people are likely to be very wary if approached or questioned.

But they will talk once they guage them to not be a threat. Murders. Six people dead, from inside their own houses. Locked doors, security systems, all for nothing. Is it a serial killer? But the reports suggested an animal attack? From what animals?

Getting access to the houses will take some negotiating or breaking and entering. The bodies themselves have been cleared by law enforcement, caution tape still up to keep out any nosy public.

The rooms the bodies were found in were all rooms that used holograms as decoration and the voidtreckers will realise when they enter them that these holograms seem a lot more realistic than some of the others they might have seen in their stay in the sector so far.

Creatures

As they talk to people, or overhear gossip they will hear more about animal attacks. Someone swears they saw a lion prowling the streets. A hovercar crashed and the driver swore they had been attacked by an eagle. Neither of those creatures live in the city. Neither of those creatures exist on this world anymore.

But the Voidtreckers will quickly learn there is something to these rumours, especially as dark falls, the feeling they are being hunted. A paw tread, a tail disappearing around a corner. As days go on they may get attacked by a bear, a tiger or perhaps a creature from their own world, one that should not exist here at all...

Tier Three

A Crisis

Leaving the station brings them into crowded streets, air thick with smog, Up above them is the floor of the plate above, set with bright lights to offset the lack of natural light getting through. Billboards and screens blare advertisements, traders yell their wares. Life is fast and swirls around them as they step out into the streets.

Here also there is an air of worry. The talk is all of Spectura, kids unconcious after playing video games, hospital overflowing. Spectura's fault, there are calls for accountability, claims of sabotage. No person gives the same story and it becomes clear that most people don't know what has happened but almost everyone knows someone who has been affected. Fear, blame, tensions are high.

But life must go on, the factories never stop, people can't not work and with so many people unconscious people have to pick up the slack. The whole sector feels at breaking point.

If they try and buy Spectura systems they will not be stopped though they will need to sign a waiver, to take on all responsibility for what might happen to them if they go into the system.

Spectura

There are a whole range of games to look through, though the two most popular ones where the majority of players can be found are an open-world farming MMO called AgriTopia VI Ultimate, with bright landscapes and calming diegetic music, and Aegis Force, a tournament team shooter with short battle scenarios and smaller maps.

Those entering the system will fall unconscious in the real world and as they enter the problem will be pretty obvious straight away. Red vines, covering everything, tangling trees, creeping up buildings, coming straight for them to attack.

Anyone who gets overwhelmed by them will be stuck, unable to move or progress. It is possible to fight them off and for those voidtreckers who have faced the vines before they will find their soothing powers will work here as well.

People are tangled throughout many different games and once they are freed will need some help to find the next save point or exit. They need to help plant the final hundred potatoes, or team up to take down the level boss or solve the next puzzle, keep the vines away and free as many people as they can.

Tier Four

A Way In

As they leave the lifts they will find this tier is dark, dim lighting barely penetrating the smog. Homes are makeshift and all on top of each other. The streets are crowded, loud and people don't stop to chat. It is incredibly claustrophobic, with large support columns, exposed wires and large pipes running alongside and over the 'roads'.

Here there are plenty of stores selling anything and everything, certainly not above board. Credits are sometimes accepted but more often store keepers will prefer to trade in barters, food is popular. Anything that isn't nutri slime or the even worse unbranded basic version.

Bars and other seedy establishments are open all hours, neon signs beckoning. It is here that they will find the entry points to the fighting rings.

People don't talk about it openly but you look big enough, mean enough or dramatic enough then it will be slipped into conversation. Have you heard? Winners get a dream come true.

The fights are a mix of one on one and group fights. All terms are negotiated before hand with an overseer and fights are to the yield. The crowd wants a show and so dramatics are encouraged.

What was that?

The rumours about people going berserk are spoken in whispers. No one really knows what has gone on. A few fights have gotten out of control, a couple of fighters broke down after fights, at least one has quit for good. Most spoken about is The Crimson Fist. The best fighter in the ring who two days prior just left. Left the city with no protective gear, no word to anyone. No one knows what happened to them.

As the voidtreckers get further into their fights they will begin to realise something strange is going on. That opponent you are facing? They now look like your worst enemy, or perhaps your best friend, your lover. Sometimes you're no longer in the city but in a place of fond memories or your worst nightmares. Fights can very quickly go south when your opponent believes you their greatest foe.

Advancing the ranks now seems like it might be more difficult than first it appeared.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It had been a long past two days. The first was spent modifying and netrunning, the second just trying to make sense of the bullshit that was this code. He hadn't really slept the previous night either, but that was normal prior to the train forcing him to sleep. There was a very high chance he wouldn't sleep very much tonight either.

It was time for a break. Take a walk, clear his head for a few minutes, do literally anything else for a bit. Staring at shit that made no sense wasn't going to suddenly become clear with more staring, probably. (Sometimes that worked. It wasn't working right now.) He eventually wandered his way to where Yondu had set himself up and stopped to look over the man's shoulder and join him in spectating the screen.

"Still goin' at it, huh?"

Whatever response Yondu gave would be met with a small noise of acknowledgement, but V would say nothing more and simply watch the screen in silence.

"Yeah... well, at least until next save point. Figure I should start gettin' ready to tell people to go home. But I don't know how much time we gonna have."

He reaches out to grab a glass of water and take a drink, then gestures at the screen.

"See that pixelation? That's the corruption. Apparently somethin's there that they can make out an' I cain't. Physical to them but digital ifn' it's just on screen."

He looks into his glass of water. V and he hadn't had the best last conversation. But he's emotionally exhausted, tired, already had a night of soul searching and being reminded that he's lonely. There ain't too many people that come from his kinda rough background around here, an' he's not had the best luck tryin' to communicate with 'em. "Can ya believe there are booze an' hookers somewhere else an' this is the detail we ended up on?" He says it quietly, ready to shut the fuck up should he catch someone else waking up."

V reviewed the screen and saw the corruption that Yondu was referencing. It clicked in his head that the virus he had been working on must be what was causing that. It was interesting that it didn't show up in the feeds - who knew that V would be learning information about this virus on this small break. It may be that he may be doing a little more work than he initially planned, but that was okay.

He didn't even have to ask Lara if she could see the computer and connect to it: the confirmation was already in his head in the form of a request of what she should cast up on the monitor of the laptop. He was distracted momentarily by the question Yondu posed and found himself snorting in amusement. He hadn't expected that. His own response is in a matched low, quiet voice as he got over the momentary surprise and searched for the file he wanted.

"Hah, don't need the reminder. Could be down there playin' 'n drinkin' 'n carryin' on like I were back in Night City." V chuckled. "Probably better I'm up here, really."

The screen on the laptop changed. There was a video playing now, a capture of what V saw while he was netrunning. It was a bit strange because he had dropped into the backdoors of one of the games, so what he was seeing was a modified map of one of the games he'd been watching all day - this one looked like it was the farming sim.

Where there was normally a ground and trees and fields and whatnot were teal and black akin to hard light, with pillars of yellow signifying places of data transfer - save points, ports, etc. Players were red figures of themselves, and the vines that were attacking them all were also red. There was quite the fight going on. V let one hand rest on the table and leaned on it as he pointed to the laptop screen.

"All the teal's basically just static code, don't do anythin'. Not what I'm interested in. This yellow's all the data transfer points. If you look careful there's some ports over here that aren't part'f the player architecture, so that's interestin'. These little red things are the players, 'n these..." His fingers traced along the multitude of vines - there was so much and going in every direction, even attacking the players. "This is the virus."

Yondu chuckles softly at that. "Yeah, that's probably more that I got the option to go an' it's familiar more than actual want for it... Besides, they probably don't got hookers seven feet tall so I ain't gonna scratch that itch."

He puts his water off to the side and leans in to see the screen. Okay, he gets the picture. The teal and black grid and the red figures, all that makes sense. It also gives the vines very little place to hide.

"So why the hell is it showin' up for you an' in the system but not for us?" A digital entity of some sort- wait.

"Other people are gettin' illusions, right? Like they's seein'... either they's seein' illusions, or they're imaginin' things, or they got holograms imitatin' stuff in their heads. So is this your head makin' this as a way to understand the corruption or is it doin' it that way on purpose as to mess with ya."

He leans his arm over the back of the chair, that heavy brow of his all knit up and ready to listen. Network stuff was never his jam. Though it was giving him some pretty good fantasies of people roughin' up the Supreme Intelligence. He doesn't entertain too many vengeful thoughts, but... y'know... every once in a while it's not so bad to think about the head rep of the Kree being thoroughly fucked up.

"You like 'em big, huh?" A good-natured tease, but as V catches on to the fact that Yondu's talking about another passenger on the train, he sobers a bit. The familiar melancholy he'd been feeling for the past few weeks tugged at him and his heart.

"Get what you mean: more like I wish I felt I had a real choice. Doubt they got any gold-plated rockerboys anyway."

V straightened after pointing everything out and crossed his arms across his chest as Yondu spoke. As the man started on about illusions V rubbed the back of his head. This illusion magic bullshit was giving him such a headache and he was pretty sure that it was the reason the code made absolutely no sense.

"Don't know nothin' 'bout illusions. Honestly thought it was just the way it manifested in the netspace, uh..."

V reached down to scrub through the video feed and stopped at a point in the video when a sabertooth tiger rendered in next to V. Granted the appearance of netspace was hard to look at, but the cat was absolutely huge with the tusks a glowing white light. It set off as soon as it was loaded and started tearing through the vines that had players stuck as V started copying the virus - a distraction to buy him time.

"That cat-lookin' thing's a piece'f Black ICE I got called sabertooth. 'Course since it's a program it's not actually a cat, but things get representations in the netspace. Guess I just chalked the virus lookin' like that up to the circumstance I was lookin' at it. Didn't actually enter the game."

He paused as he considered what Yondu said last.

"Bein' honest: I been lookin' at this code for near a day 'n a half at this point. I haven't been monitorin' comms so this illusion bullshit's news to me. If it's magic shit then I got no way'f knowin' if I'm imaginin' it'r if that's how it is... But it'd explain why the code's such a fuckin' mess." He was musing now.

"Well it's been happenin' everywhere else in different capacities. An' Vexen was noticin' likenesses between that an' the illusions we hit in the last mission. Which makes me think we're chasin' somebody. Or somethin'. Real subtle about gettin' into our heads or-"

He taps the vines on the screen. "Into systems... Here, let me show you farmin' feed. The screen don't wobble as much 'cause they don't get in the frantic firefights so you can see it happenin' better. Funny thing is watchin' that distortion get run off. Seein' somethin' digital get fought off with the physical interpretaiton of an action."

He changes views like one would scroll through 'game over' screens when spectating after an in game death, finds what he's meaning, and scoots to the side to give V a chance to watch for a while.

But still, conversationally, he adds.

"I talked with him. Kerry. Just that once, but I could see how he'd make ya feel at ease. There ain't many folks that make ya feel that way in life... Not livin' like we done, anyway. I could see why you got touchy about 'im, too. So I wasn't about to dig it in."

Beside the computer there's a little set up of three figurines, like they've been helping him watch or something. A chicken, a frog, and a windmill. And he lightly spins the blade on the windmill.

Edited 2021-05-10 13:09 (UTC)

V listened carefully to what Yondu was saying about the illusions. It was concerning that they could be dealing with what could possibly be the same thing as the mission they were on the previous month. With the offer to show the farming feed V dropped the connection from his Agent to give over control of the laptop to Yondu. V eventually crouched down next to Yondu, watching the feed closely.

His breathing stopped for a moment when Yondu said Kerry's name out loud. There's a moment where V visibly tenses, but he takes a breath and forces his muscles to relax a little. And then a breath, and another. V was doing quite a bit better than the last time he'd talked with Yondu, but it was clear that things still weren't in a good place. V watched Yondu spin the windmill. Eventually he spoke with a quiet earnestness that maybe didn't really match V's looks.

"He really is a great guy. He, um. He's something special. 'M lucky he'd even glance my way. He deserves a lot better 'n me." A pause. "But, bein' selfish, I'm glad he did." With every breath he drew he was glad for what time he did get with Kerry, even if he couldn't fix things now.

"Big guy's name is Siebren, right? There somethin' goin' on there?" There's a tentative lightness to his tone, though this was definitely an attempt to get the conversation off of him.

He wasn't ignoring the work talk, but he was still watching the feed. It looked like he might be looking for patterns in the way the glitches were manifesting on the screen - if it fit in with the visualization of the virus being vines, or if it looked like something else.

"I know how that goes," he says when V says Kerry deserves better. He doesn't disagree, because he does know what it's like to be in that kind of life. "Kerry said he was real fond of folks like us, though, so all you can do is look out for folks with bad judgement."

It's not exactly shop talk, but he's been stressing over these screens for too damn long at this point.

"Yeah. That's his name. Nothin' ...Nothin' even happened. Asshole just smiled at me an' I noticed he had these light colored eyes an' the creases around 'em did all the right things. An' then I realized how good he smelled- I got a little bit of a better sense of smell than y'all. Just by a li'l' bit. An' then I thought about his damn puns an' how you know a fella with that kinda wordplay got him a sweet li'l' mean streak in 'im..." He chuckles evilly at that one, but it fades after a moment. "An' then I thought about how big he was an' how he don't like to use it to fight."

And that's when it looks like the words coming out of him actually hurt a little to say, 'cause here he is, barely knowing V, but like he'd done with the damn talking racoon he's grabbing at lifelines of camaraderie that might not even be there. That drowning man mentality.

"I mean, I did the normal fantasizin' but I also just figured he'd be damn good to just lay on and be held." He spreads his hands, though.

"And I did that all in my own damn head so sooner or later I'm just gonna have to.. I dunno, be a goddamn adult an' talk about it or be a chicken shit an' just convince my brain to undo it on its own." He might have tapped the chicken figurine when he said chicken shit.

Then he just kind of looks disappointed in himself that he blurted it all out. But, surprisingly, it does feel better to have said it.

V was honestly glad for the lack of butt pats and empty reassurances - he'd been around long enough and through enough that he saw it all as something self serving. Lord knows he could respect someone who had enough of a pair to not feel the need. V's jaw did set at the comment about looking out for folks with bad judgement - he felt he fell into that category at this point - but he let that comment hang.

Who knows what Yondu expected as he went on about Siebren. Maybe he expected V to laugh at him, or maybe he expected some aggressive comment about how Yondu was being some soft headed fool. V could only imagine what bullshit he'd heard over the years in moments like these, but V knew the things he'd been called during moments like this. The malicious names, the mocking laughs, the eye rolls and sideways looks: they never came. On the contrary, V had a soft smile on his face as Yondu spoke.

"My favorite thing 'bout Ker's the fact he don't really fight. Always used to say that's what he had me for." A note of sadness in his tone, but he pushed on before the lump in his throat could form. "Admit I haven't talked to Siebren so I dunno 'im or his measure, but if you got all these feelin's 'bout 'im then I think you should talk to 'im."

There's a thoughtful pause, then V actually looked to Yondu.

"Speakin' from personal experience: a no's better'n sittin' here wonderin' what you coulda had, what you missed out on." He sighed and looked down at his hands as he started to pick at the skin around his nails. "Don't feel good bringin' it up with someone - shit, Ker's the one that asked me out 'n not the other way around - but no amount'f talkin' honest 'bout your feelin's feels as bad as never knowin'."

The lack of derision is honestly a relief. It's what he hoped for, even if he didn't necessarily expect it. At least he gave V the good faith the worst he might do is simply not give a shit. Which is more than he'd give most of their ilk. But Kerry had introduced a standard.

Yondu leans back in his chair, making a squirt-sort of noise with his mouth like an aging merc would. "Great. I get to build me a life skill I ain't ever had to learn in over five decades." Nope, not a single relationship that lasted more than a night. Maybe two. The closest he'd come was that aching attachment to Stakar, and Stakar was married so there hadn't been a chance.

That also probably has something to do with it. For decades his head has occasionally danced back to Stakar as a passing thought, a covetous memory. And now suddenly there's someone he's attracted to, that's safe to be around, that doesn't hate him yet (yet) and that's an idea so novel that the confirmation it's pointless (it'll have to be, right?) will take some bracing.

But he thinks about it, about stuff that Kerry said. "What happened with 'im? Kerry, I mean?"

In the meantime he leans forward again to cycle through all of the feeds. Makes sure that no one is fighting for their life while he gently converses over their fucked up heads.

"No judgin'." Especially since he pretty much just bared his throat.

V chuckled when Yondu admitted it was a skill he hadn't had to learn. In truth? V was the same, granted two decades and some change the junior. Kerry was the first actual relationship he'd been in that wasn't simply being on a first name basis with any one of the working folk at Jig Jig Street. He'd made friends, people he'd thought'd last but never did, but Kerry was the first great love to sweep him off his feet.

And he ruined it.

"Better to build it up front'n havin' to scramble 'n build it after makin' some gonk mistake."

The question came. V expected it, at least, so it didn't throw him, but that didn't mean he looked forward to it. It was a question he didn't want to really answer and a topic he didn't really want to hold onto. He held his hurts deep inside with claws that wouldn't let them go for anything, or show them to anyone. He quit picking at his nails to pull a cigarette out from his jacket pocket - he'd bummed it off someone late the previous night. Not that he enjoyed smoking, but maybe some habits were hard to kick.

"Do you mind?" He held the cigarette up in question. If Yondu answered no he would light up and take a deep drag, exhaling slowly. If he did mind, well, he'd chew on the end and resume the picking at his skin would resume - around the metal in his arms, around his nails. An anxious habit.

"I, uh. Really fucked up somethin' awful. Not sure things can be fixed, honestly."

He fell quiet as his weight shifted back to his heels, mimicking the leaning back Yondu'd done as his weight shifted so he was in a proper crouch.

"I chose to give up rather'n keep fightin'. Chose to lay down 'n die instead'f keep fightin' for what probably woulda been a happy future, no matter how short."

There's a bitter silence as V took a moment to collect himself. He knew he needed to offer more background than that.

"So, uh, 'fore I was on the train I was, uh. Where do I even fuckin' start? I was part'f a job gone wrong. Witnessed some shit I shouldn't've, but managed to steal a protoype chip called a Relic. Had a copy 'f a man named Johnny Silverhand on it. Had to shove that chip in my head 'cause the environment controlled box it came it got damaged. Man who hired me put some lead in m'head."

A pause as his eyes focuse don the figures sitting atop the table.

"Chip fixed the damage, sorta, brought me back alive, but now with Johnny in m'head. To make a long story short? Chip was overwritin' me on a genetic level to prepare m'body for Johnny so he could live proper. Was killin' me."

He rubbed his eyes with a pointer finger and thumb, the motion ending with a pinch of the bridge of his nose.

"Found Johnny's former girlfriend-turned-AI named Alt Cunningham and she said she could use the program that turned Johnny into a fuckin' chip to begin with to pull us both out, separate us, then push me back in my body so I could live 'n Johnny could go with her in the great data sea."

His hand fell from his face and he chuckled, though it was without emotion.

"Think you're quick on you're feet, imagine you already figured out I spoiled this story. We get to where we gotta be to get us both pulled out 'n in a place for Alt to work, but Alt'd been without a body long enough to forget, you know, the whole biological part'f the equation. She told us if I went back t'the body was only a matter'f time 'fore I died. Could be days, could be months, could be years. She had no clue. Otherwise I could merge with her 'n elevate to a new state of bein'."

V frowned deeply, hugging his knees as he crouched where he was. The next part he said very softly.

"Imagine you already figured this out, but I chose to go with Alt 'n gave Johnny my body. Thought he'd at least do the courtesy'f tellin' Ker what happened, but Johnny's a fuckin' piece'f work, a real son'f a fucking bitch.

But it hardly matters whatever the hell Johnny did, was my gonk-brained decision. Was my weakness that let my fears dictate my actions. My lack of trust."

And now it was V's turn to feel bad for unloading onto a man he hardly knew. He hadn't meant to really tell all of it, nor admit the last bit, but he hadn't talked to anyone about this since getting here. He hadn't been able to talk to anyone about this fight with Kerry that had affected him so heavily.

"I deserve to be judged for it. Deserve it if Ker decides to move on 'n find someone more worthy of 'im."

He'd normally warn of the kids around but honestly the smog is so goddamn bad that it barely matters. He's actually been worried that it'll be hard for him to fight because if he has to breathe deep he might cough in the middle of a very necessary maneuvre. He's been mentally preparing himself for that inevitability.

"So he just thought ya bailed on 'im?" Yondu says. "Seems like somethin' you could explain to 'im. Ain't fair, though. Feels like ya got scammed out of your body..." To be honest, under lighter circumstances, he could imagine that Rocket had done such a thing to someone.

But he can imagine that's why Kerry had wanted booze so bad (which Yondu had obliged him), and why V had been so tender on the subject.

"You get a chance to get it cleared up any? I mean, I get knowin' you ain't good enough for somebody a lot better just... situated than you. But he at least oughta make that decision based on facts an' not the guy that dicked you over."

Though that brings him back around to another thought.

"So this Johnny Silvernugget whatever guy, he took your body from ya 'cause you weren't in it no more. An' I've been havin' this thought that I don't like. That there's a whole buncha bodies up there that ain't got nothin' in 'em, an' if someone needs mindless meatpuppets... Seems like they're buildin' up a stockpile they can fill with whatever they want."

It's a fear he really hopes he's wrong on.

V made a noise of confirmation at the question of Kerry thinking V had bailed on him. At the comment of being scammed out of his body he snorted. He wouldn't put it past Johnny Silvertongue for playing some long game and using his damned charisma to convince V to give the body over in some long con. He snorted again at the wrong version of Johnny's name.

"To set the record straight: Johnny did try 'n give me my body back, I didn't let 'im. I made 'im take the body. Could be he swindled me with his damn charisma, but it was my deliberate choice, influenced or not."

It was time that he took responsibility for it instead of letting it all rest on Johnny's shoulders.

"It wasn't really anythin' like that. Arasaka kidnapped Alt because she developed Soulkiller, which essentially converted a person's mind 'n personality into an AI. In the past they ripped important people - like Alt herself, Johnny - out of their bodies and put 'em in an internal prison called Mikoshi. Alt managed to get out'f there, but others didn't." Pause for a drag, shaking his head as he exhaled. "A soul prison." His disgust was apparent.

"In my time, 2077, they were marketing Soulkiller as a way for the rich to extend their life. Relic: Secure Your Soul." His hands before him with his fingers splayed as he said the tag line, then his hands dropped. "No mindless meat puppets, no stockpilin', just a different kinda fucked up."

But that's all Night City was: fucked up.

"Ker and I had a chance to talk at that fucked up river where we could send messages back home. He was a lot more willin' to listen there than the platform. Ker knows it was my choice 'n I explained my reasonin'." More like he lost his cool and cried, but who's counting. "Things aren't fixed, 'n I still dunno that they ever will be, but I feel better 'bout things than before.

The worst part's wonderin' what coulda been if I didn't let Johnny take the body. Normally say no point in wastin' my time wonderin' 'bout what isn't, but just been stuck in my head like a fuckin' virus."

He dropped what was left of the cigarette on the ground and put it out.

"Better to be workin' on that skill up front 'stead'f tryin' to claw your way out'f a hole of what could'f been."

"Sometimes stealin' with a smile an' a good word is still stealin'. Ain't much fair an' just leaves ya blamin' yourself, but there it is."

He switches the screen over to one of the frantic FPS scenarios. He makes a face as someone in the world has found the dubstep gun, and he jostles his head in mild surprise.

"I been to planets about like yours. Seen people patched together about like that. Seems like y'all evolved to be somethin' else, but not in the DNA way. I mean, I got shit I ain't supposed to have but I never asked for this." He motions to his head. "...Now I ain't bitchin' that I got it. It's mine as far as I'm concerned. But y'all's as much digital as you are meat at this point. Not that it's a bad thing necessarilly." He ponders.

"Just... makin' me think about what kinda world this is. I ain't looked to see if they got digital prisons or real prisons or if they have some kinda digital afterlife. But in a place like this one, I bet they just let 'em twinkle out like lights." He looks over the people still sleeping in the room.

On the more personal aspect of the conversation, though, the bit that was relevant. "Sometimes shit don't get fixed. I never fixed mine." Maybe if he was better at apologizing he could have done right by Stakar. He wouldn't have walked up to him all casual, but started with the right words instead of just yellin'. "But I hope y'all can make a new thing, that it gets better."

He winces to himself. "I don't wanna lose my friend. We don't got much but I got a that in 'im. So whatever I do I gotta keep it."

He gestures to V's phone. "Think you can find out what the prisons are like here?" He's not wanted to change off any windows in case he misses something so he's not been even remotely adventurous with Kaiba's laptop.

V didn't say anything about the theft, nor did his expression change too much. He knew that Yondu was right and he wasn't about to try to argue the point. The situation was complex - Johnny was the only person to know V with that level of intimacy, and the two of them lived and breathed as one for a time. Shared thoughts. V wasn't going to try to explain it or justify Johnny's actions.

His gaze shifted back to the game as the display shifted, listening to Yondu as he started to track the patterns in the glitches again. When Yondu mentions that people twinkle out like lights V's expression grew tired and worn with a resignation that suggested that he was familiar with that kind of reality.

"Night City don't give immortality to just anyone. Gotta buy it, like anythin' else, and even if you got the money for it? Arasaka owns you, just like they own everythin' and everyone else. The corporations 'n their shitheads walk all over anythin' lesser 'n let people die in the streets. People like me growin' up were worth less'n the shit on the sole'f their shoe. Wasn't 'til I started makin' a name for m'self 'n had money that I was worth consideration by anyone. This place 'n Night City don't seem too different."

There's a moment of quiet before V spoke again.

"I hope we can at least figure out how to be friends again. Be a bit awkward if we're both stuck in such a confined space 'n one'f us hates the other." V was definitely a glass half empty kinda guy when it came to anything regarding himself.

"I get that. Think you should do whatever you think's right, but don't think a friendship'd be ruined over that so long you respect his boundaries if he said no." Might make things awkward for a bit, but that would probably pass. Probably. V wasn't entirely sure, he could count how many real friends he'd had on one hand.

"Hm? Oh, Lara doesn't do any hacking. She's more like a life manager. Really, here, more like my data manager." A soft chuckle.

His voice grows quieter as he thinks through it out loud. "With the ports that leave the game and to the greater network I could theoretically get out'f the game 'n start scrapin' the data pool for information on prisons... But don't know the network specifics..." His voice grew more audible as he spoke more directly to Yondu.

"Less inclined to focus all my effort on it 'cause I'd like to try'n unravel this virus, but I can figure out how to break out'f the game and set a virus'f my own to search for that information 'n send me whatever it finds." V dropped one knee to the ground so that he was kneeling rather than crouching, resting one arm on the table.

"Should be able to get m'self connected to the network here so it can communicate with me'r Lara whenever it finds somethin' 'n then I can keep workin' on pickin' this virus apart to figure out how to destroy it. There anythin' else you'd want to search for 'n dig up while I'm at it?"

Edited 2021-05-13 02:34 (UTC)

"Just sorta wonderin' if they had some sorta digital repository for minds. A back-up would be helpful as hell. You'd think a prime place to use one would be a prison. Also if this world has the tech to keep people still and from atrophyin'. But other'n that.... Have at. We ain't gonna have forever."

He makes a noise. "Alright, well. I hate to put it this way, but if I can get into the personal property at the hospital I can maybe grab a coupla phones what used to belong to some of the victims they got under. So we can use them for location stuff. I know how to jailbreak an' fiddle with location shit so luckily you don't gotta worry about that bit."

He just can't do any sort of deep hacking. The basics he can pull off pretty easy.

"Alright.. well I got a couple people I been switchin' out with so I can try an' go out an' get you anything else y'all might need."

He pauses, though. Just because someone's listening, he can't pass up the rare opportunity. People who bother are rare unicorns.

"We're in this kinda place. He's a classy scientist who I'm pretty sure could eat all the sugar in the world an' just get a nicer ass 'cause he's blessed with ungodly Netherland metabolism. I'm a janked up former slave turned thief. I mean, I know I'm-"

He knows he's more than that? He quirks his mouth to the side. The words don't come out. He wears that one identity so well that the whole rest of him is hard to consider. And it's not just a small part, every rational fiber of him knows. He's a protector as much as he's a cold-blooded killer. He's sensitive for how scared and callous and ruthless he's capable of being. He's got big goals about tough priceless scores but he is equally pleased by a sentimental trinket like a chicken, a frog, or a ceramic windmill.

Classism has hammered itself in his head over the decades. A slave doesn't watch an owner's daughter for a little too long. A Ravager doesn't get to stay in a sweet smelling bed on nice linens until morning. It's a deep-rooted fear, one he doesn't want to think Siebren would subscribe to, but it's more like it's dug itself into his brain.

The sentence ends in a grunt.

"Whatever, I'll worry about it later." He pats V's arm heavily and gets up out of the chair. "How about you sit for a while. I'll go get ya some food an' some drink. Ain't got much better'n water but it's not that slime, anyway."

V sucked air in through his teeth as he considered what Yondu was saying about the prisons and trying to find information about them - digital or otherwise.

"Can write somethin' up 'n try'n track detes on all that down. Not really familiar with the net here, not really familiar with how they got security, 'n we don't got a lot'f time here 'fore we delta so can't promise to get many detes on it. I'll try, though. Good news is should have somethin' from Atlanta similar to what I need here so shouldn't take long to write up, at least." Idle considerations.

He had admittedly chuckled when Yondu mentioned klepping electronics from the victims. He knew he likely shouldn't be chuckling at it, but the idea that one of the good ol' team leads was promoting stealing simply tickled V in a Night City sort of way. The whole thing was fucking macabre.

"Shouldn't be too much trouble, imagine I can rope in a little help on it if I have any trouble. Shouldn't be too tough to put together for ya though." A thoughtful pause. "It's nothin' I need, but if y'got your hands on a laptop? Make my life a little bit easier, but doesn't fuck me to go without."

A small smile, amused. "Dutch. If he's from the Netherlands he's Dutch."

That smile faded and V could just about laugh at the situation Yondu was in. Not in a derisive way, but in a sort of bitter amusement. The two of them semeed to be similar to each other in a couple of ways. It was interesting to V how the two of them dealt with it differently, but that would likely be due to the differences in their stories rather than the similarities.

"Y'know, we're kinda similar. Wasn't raised a slave, but was... Grew up in the streets. Worth less'n the shit on the bottom'f some corpo's heel." That should paint enough of a picture. To keep going would be some sort of self serving motion to try and garner pity from the older man, and pity was something he hated.

"Goin' after a man who's so far above my station I... There's a time in my life I couldn't imagine even lookin' at Ker in person even from a distance, much less wakin' up next to 'im. Where I was from didn't make a difference to him. What mattered was who I was then. He saw in me what most don't bother lookin' at."

A soft, scared man who had been mistreated for years and simply wanted to be loved, but was terrified of it all the same. A man who'd lay down his life for those he considered his, and stand up for what mattered most despite the nature of his work and the way he could coldly depersonalize himself from his actions. A man who had never been given a gift but would give everything he had just to be told someone cared for him.

Every waking moment of that relationship was waiting for some other shoe to drop. Who knew V'd make it a self-fulfilling prophecy.

V was surprised at the clap on the arm, looking back to Yondu with an expression like he'd been pulled out of some reverie. "Sure." V stood up straight and stretched, then chuckled as he took roost in the chair. "Slime's better'n what I ate growin' up, but that's a story for when you get back if you want."

"It ain't that differ'nt from what I ate an' that is exactly why I ain't touchin' it."

He stretches in a way that forces shit to crack loudly and then goes over to their stash of food. Returns with some of that special bread and fruit and cheese for V and sandwich meat rolled up like a fucking fruit roll-up for himself.

"Dutch?" he asks between bites. Well, Kree come from Hala so he guesses that names do that kinda thing every once in a while. Still, he never saw 'Dutch' coming. He mutters it again to himself, trying to commit it to memory, and watches the screen from where he's standing.

"I can get ya a laptop when I'm gettin' the Spectaura gear. I ain't plannin' on goin' too crazy taking stuff, just enough to get us what we're lookin' for."

He scarfs the rest of the piece of meat he was eating.

"..Somethin' real fucked up? Centaurians don't wander off-world too much so I was kind of a rare thing. I cost a lotta money. I passed between a few owners in my time 'cause of it, between the species an' how they rigged me up. I was valuable. I couldn't stand bein' around them folks, but in my head I still got it all mixed up that I need to be worth keepin'."

He shakes his head, still hating the discord that creates.

"Like I said, I get it. That guy came off as a real class act immediately. Not many fellas can start fillin' their face full of vodka an' hit you right off as good company. He did that." At least it sounds like they have... he doesn't know, history doesn't burn 'em any more.

Edited 2021-05-19 01:33 (UTC)

V leaned back in the chair and made himself about as comfortable as one could given the circumstance while Yondu fished some food out from the stash. V took the food with a nod of thanks as he chuckled at the questioning about Dutch.

"I know, don't make sense. Don't know why they're called Dutch. Probably something from some distant history." He took a bite of cheese with a shrug. "Didn't go to school. Couldn't say."

V nodded at the promise of the laptop and the explanation that Yondu didn't wish to steal too much from them. V could understand that: he had always made it a point to take as little as possible. He wasn't a fan of fucking over people that didn't deserve it, but he also was willing to take if he needed something.

"Get not wantin' to take too much. Thanks."

V picked at the food carefully as Yondu continued. It was clear in the restraint of his movements that he was doing his best not to absolutely inhale the food Yondu gave him. He knew it was unsightly and, well, Mama Welles taught him better than that. It was hard, though.

"I... I don't got real much to say. You said it: that's real fucked up." V knew that there were incidents of kids being rounded up in Night City to be sold off into less favorable rings of work, never to know freedom again, but he wasn't one that got caught in that. V had a vague recollection he might have killed someone for trying, but the past was so fuzzy.

"Can't imagine what that's even like." He almost couldn't imagine being considered anything of worth. Kerry had almost impressed the idea onto him in a way that made it stick, but clearly not enough to keep him alive. In some fucked up way there was a mild envy that V had: he would never be something for show, never be worth anything. He would forever just be some kid off the streets worth less than some trash along the highway.

Talking about Kerry was still difficult for him even if things seemed to be on the up and up. "I... I just hate this limbo. Wish I knew how this fight ends."

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What their Eyes See: Start

soft spoken, we are not ones to open up - https://youtu.be/qtzQlx1ccXc

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Changed some wording.

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