SAMURAI

               ( * please note you cannot access my posts from my desktop theme .   posts are mobile only, but there is a link on the theme to redirect you to the dashboard posts .    this is for the purpose of allowing a content warning for readers on desktop . )

       𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙸𝚂 𝙰𝙽 𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙴𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝙽𝚃 + 𝚂𝙴𝙻𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙴 𝙹𝙾𝙷𝙽𝙽𝚈 𝚂𝙸𝙻𝚅𝙴𝚁𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚁𝙾𝙻𝙴𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈 𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙶 ,    written by heath .          as a general disclaimer and content warning, johnny silverhand (of the cyberpunk franchise) is an anarchist/extremist and terrorist .    if either of these themes make you uncomfortable  𝙳𝙾 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙵𝙾𝙻𝙻𝙾𝚆 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙶 .    i’m not trying to glorify johnny’s actions, he’s a problematic individual, and the chances of him being nice to your muse is very low without plotting .

i have multiple verses on this blog, extending from the years 2009 - 2077, but i won’t write outside of this timeline. as well as this, the cyberpunk universe is an alternate universe, meaning things might be a bit different than what you’d expect.

           𝙹𝙾𝙷𝙽𝙽𝚈'𝚂 𝙲𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙳 𝙲𝙰𝙽 𝙱𝙴 𝙵𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳 𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 .     please read the rules and ,   if you don’t know much about the story ,    you can find the details of johnny’s past on the carrd .    it should help with plotting .

𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙰𝙻 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙻𝚃𝙷 .     johnny has struggled with his mental health since he was very young ,   specifically it was at it’s worst after the war .    as he went to war as a child and experienced the darkest parts of it at such an early age he returned suffering from some heavy ptsd that primarily resulted in his issues controlling his angry outbursts ,   as well as his reliance on alcohol and drugs .

𝙿𝙷𝚈𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙻𝚃𝙷 .    although he used to be at peak physical health in his teens, it very quickly deteriorated after his return from the conflict. the constant late nights, drugs, and alcohol abuse often put him in hospital, though he’d never mention it if he could avoid doing so. though still he remained physically capable when clean, and the addition of his metal arm allows for a significant advantage in strength he wouldn’t have otherwise.

𝙷𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂 .     johnny typically finds his happiness in avoidance .    loud music .    distraction .   sex .   anything that’ll take his mind off of things for just a moment .    but he doesn’t often realise where his true happiness comes from .

            NOW ISN’T THAT AN OMINOUS SHADE OF THE PAST.  something otherworldly that just shouldn’t belong here ; the tangibility of flesh, bone & metal, the deep obsidian irises ( the dead does not truly stay dead ).  & she cannot call it anything but miraculous.  post-outburst, watches with FATIGUED eyes, a face in the “regular” crowd of afterlife’s solos, & perceives the voice she hadn’t heard in months.  a similar creature to herself in a different life. 

                               goodbye 𝐕 & never stop fighting … 

the memories & words are palpable.  they HAUNTED her in her dreams because she wanted them to until the stings went away & she can finally compartmentalize.  cauterize silverhand, a literal piece of her existence & sanity, out of her life.  ( still disconnected, a broken device spewing static & splitting migraines!! )  as the relic stands there barefaced with his perpetual INSOUCIANCE & slouched posture, stumbles upon the disturbing conclusion that such extreme course of action isn’t practical or feasible.  𝐕 blinks slowly, owlish, nearly forgetting where she is in favor of it & the memories.

the moment she feels the tension NIPPING at her tear ducts, 𝐕’s human response was to instead pull her organic hand back & smack him across the face with a DIZZYING force.  she’s not the type to cry openly, so she doesn’t.

❛ ——you don’t get to act casual with me.  i’m not one of your little ex-outputs, ❜ she says, & the sound’s abrupt & sharp.

it sounds foul.  but it’s easier to destroy things & use force than CRY.  her mood’s trembled between frustrated exhaustion & general frustration.  took johnny’s retort turned ‘greeting’.  stomped on the pleasantries & cut to the chase with a blasé, sardonic drawl.  gestures with the toss of her head toward the bar.  her bar. 

❛ i should disembowel your punkass. ❜

a fatigue headache worms down through her CRANIUM.  despite herself, walks them down the narrow pathway of neon lights toward the elongated counter like a swan gliding over glass.  they’re afforded strange looks in passing, especially johnny.  

& fortunately for him, rogue is not in TOWN for a day or so.

              he should’ve seen it coming ,   but he doesn’t .            there’s this part of him ,    however small ,     that thought maybe they were beyond pretending .        ❛     -------------------  fuck .      ❜             𝙷𝙴𝙻𝙻 ,   𝙷𝙴 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝚂 𝙷𝙴𝚁 .       he knows exactly what this is .             [       when her palm connects with his face ,   leaves a sharp sting ,    leaves him reeling .       he puts cold metal to his cheek .    it soothes ,    but only temporarily .    it’s gonna bruise .        𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗔 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗟𝗘 𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗖𝗘 𝗛𝗘 𝗛𝗔𝗗 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗘 .       ]                                  he slowly removes his glasses from his face ,    since they’re off centre anyway ,    now .    he gives her a long ,   firm look before she moves towards the bar .         𝙹𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙰 𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙵𝙾𝙻𝙻𝙾𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙶 .     but he came all the way here .    didn’t expect to find her hanging around ,    but it’s just how things are .     so he trails after her .

                 ❛      third times the charm .      ❜       ( who knows ,   she might actually succeed where everyone else failed . )     he moves up to the bar ,   and like he has done so many times before he perches himself on the edge of a barstool .    aviators discarded on the counter .         𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗨𝗕𝗦 𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧 𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗘𝗬𝗘𝗦 .      it’s hard ,   actually .     feels almost like rejection .     he doesn’t care to think much on 𝚆𝙷𝚈 .     it’s not like he came here looking violence .    he’s not as much of a masochist as he used to be .                             [    𝗛𝗘'𝗗 𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗡 𝗜𝗧 .    ]    although he likes to think he’s gotten a bit better about avoiding problems .    gotten a bit better about being honest with himself ,    too .                 he leans his arm on the bar .

                  ❛       uhu ,   and how you gonna get it ?       ❜         𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝙻𝙰𝚉𝙸𝙻𝚈 𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙽𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷 ,    sprawled out ,   very little care about how he’s percieved because he simply can’t be .     well ,   not by anyone barring 𝐕 .               he looks her over ,    a raised brow hidden by the reflection of his aviators .

                      ❛        like fuck it isn’t .      ❜         he scoffs .      𝙸𝚃'𝚂 𝙴𝙰𝚂𝚈 𝚃𝙾 𝙿𝙰𝙸𝙽𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚆𝙷𝙸𝚃𝙴 .          some things might be complicated and gray ,    but this isn’t one of those things .      second you make something not that simple is the same second you cop out of doing anything about it .      𝗦𝗢 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗜𝗙 𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗬 𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 ?   WILL YOU STILL KEEP LETTING THE BAD THINGS HAPPEN ?

            𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙰𝚁𝙳𝙴𝙳 𝙲𝙸𝙶𝙰𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴 .    it still burns ;    a dim little orange glow at his feet .      he’d been trying to get off them --------------------    after everything ,   the least he could do is look after his body now he’s got a second chance at life .          𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚈 𝙿𝙴𝙾𝙿𝙻𝙴 𝙶𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙾𝙿𝙿𝙾𝚁𝚃𝚄𝙽𝙸𝚃𝚈 .      but ,   hell ,   every now and again the urge comes creeping back in and he’s never been the best at putting aside his vices .      and now ,    looking at 𝐕 again ,   it’s like those urges are being amplified .                              𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗢𝗗𝗗 ,   𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗘𝗗 .    they shared that body once upon a time .                [   OR YOU COULD SAY THEY FOUGHT OVER IT .   ]         now he just feels weirdly distant .                                                             wanting independence was easier when he didn’t have it .

YES , SAM WAS FUCKING BORED , INDEED !   Except , more were they bored of how their day was going so far than a puzzle toy that they would play it sometimes , actually  .   Of course , there had to be some chaos happening for them to have that entertainment , but they truly did not mean to make it this DREADFUL for Johnny’s sake .   ❝   Yeah , I was B-O-R-E-D , uh huh , but , no , this time , not of - not of my fucking rubick’s cu   —   ❞   Coughing from the smoke in the room , they repeatedly stomp on the blackened object that held a small flame on it , killing it .

AS SAM OPENS THE WINDOW NEARBY AFTERWARD , in a casual childlike tone , they explain to him   :    ❝   I - I was - IIIII was just trying to make a new wea- weapon …   A gun that can - that can shoot KNIFES !    ❞    Sure , maybe that is not the most original invention idea , but this was just for fun , so they are not accepting Johnny’s opinions on it at the moment   (   besides , they do love knifes a lot !   ) .   Funny though , with a mini explosion occurring after they made a grand mistake , their clumsiness can be a weapon itself .

            𝙷𝙴  𝙰𝙻𝙼𝙾𝚂𝚃  𝙲𝙷𝙾𝙺𝙴𝚂  𝚃𝚁𝚈𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝚃𝙾  𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙳  [ 𝙻𝙰𝚄𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝚁 ] .       a gun that can shoot knives ?     fucking child’s play .    he almost doesn’t even comment on it ,    thinking it some sort of ridiculous joke .           𝗕𝗨𝗧 𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗔𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗕𝗘 𝗦𝗔𝗜𝗗 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗜𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗨𝗟𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗜𝗧 𝗔𝗟𝗟 .              ❛        you have to be joking .     you’re not fucking serious ?      ❜                   he’s met a lot of crazy people ,     𝙰𝚃 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝚆𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝚅𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙴 .                    ----------------------- hell ,   even a bad joke would be better than this .

                   ❛        you’re gonna have to be more specific .        ❜         honestly ,   what hasn’t happened to him ?                     𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 ?                 hell ,    they might as well ask him what’s wrong with him ,    at least he could answer that question .                he’s got a neat ,    long ,            mental list of all the things he knows he should regret and doesn’t ,                          for one thing .   

                     𝙷 𝙴 ' 𝚂   𝚂 𝙴 𝙴 𝙽   𝙱 𝙸 𝙶 𝙶 𝙴 𝚁   𝙼 𝙴 𝚂 𝚂 𝙴 𝚂 .       there’s no question about that .  but --------     𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 .              ❛    fuck me .    ❜        he pauses ,    if only to take in the state of the room around him  ;      or what’s left of it ,   at least .       𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚞𝚢'𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝙱𝙰𝙳 𝙵𝚄𝙲𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙿 . . .         and that’s from experience .