ＮＥＯＰＨＯＲＩＡ

𝙉𝙀𝙊𝙋𝙃𝙊𝙍𝙄𝘼 (n)  ; a euphoric sensation experienced upon witnessing a futuristic device or event. something that elicits the feeling of living in the future.

 independent, selective & story-driven cyberpunk 2077 multimuse.  written by 𝑨𝑼𝑹𝑶𝑹𝑨, she / her.  25+.  canon divergent in some aspects  & several subversive texts & extensive meta writings.  violence, body horror & various hedonistic topics mentioned.  ( as the theme of the game suggests! )  activity WILL be spotty due to having a full time job! 

𝙈𝙐𝙎𝙀𝙎 & 𝙍𝙀𝙂𝙐𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉𝙎

❛ ——fucking coward... ❜ a hissing mutter sifts through GNASHED teeth, semi-gloved fingers are brought to the lower structure of face & rubs, as if to collect herself, soothing.  ( before she rips off her own skin & tosses it away!  only god knows why she came back to the clan, only to be met with the same canard from saul!  unfulfilled promises, just isolationist, traditionalist corporation kowtowing! )

amid simmering in something choleric, she catches a seated v —— the only reason she continues to push so hard for change within the aldecaldos.  because he believes in her with his rose-tinted lenses, that she could manifest it.  he’s too good for his own good.  & that very thought has her musing over it via a steady stream of a BREATH escaping sharply from nostrils. & that’s…okay.  because that very thought dissolves some of the latent anger.

 ❛ ——ahh, v.  thought you moseyed on back to nc... ❜ she pauses, refraining from COMMENTING further or cleaning it up in this pleasant surprise for the sake of making things less awkward,  ❛ sticking around a bit longer? ❜

wishes she could have said MORE, though.

as quickly as it took to shed his INHIBITIONS, he retrieves them at the door.  ( dalliances are utterly becoming of a warrior of his caliber, he must needs spiritual re-centering! ) thankfully, the rain has stopped.  were it not for the smog, litter & less than honorable denizens, it would have reminded him of home, but only for the technological marvel it is.  nevertheless, tokyo’s architecture have become one of the seven wonders the world over.  night city isn’t impressive, but the proud inhabitants breeze by, chatting about the INCONVENIENCE of the rain that had just passed through the area. thought highly of this place.

when enough DISTANCE spans between him & the shop, he flips through his contacts ( the few & far between! ) & hesitates as it lands on her name.  rationalizes the intent in the reasoning —— anything to JUSTIFY what it is he means to proceed with.  

sends in the call.

❛ ——v, ❜ he prefaces with, gruff intonations weaving a touch of importance in it.

  ❛ i will send you coordinates which you are to attend tomorrow.  ‘at noon’, as you say. ❜  

the call ends.  an instantaneous PING would rattle her cellphone.  text messaging contains an attachment of the general area & the latitude/longitude of its positioning.  it is a shinto shrine.

       The splitting headache’s V’s nursing peaks when his phone pings. A hand flies to his brow to massage it half-heartedly before he registers whose name just popped up on his HUD. He can’t tell if it’s the power of surprise and distraction or an actual suspension of the Relic’s fuckery. The menu unfurls like a banner dropping in front of him. Three lines show up, and he’s gobsmacked.

         Despite telling Judy otherwise for the sake of inspiring and maintaining some semblance of hope ( in both of them ), his concern for Evelyn’s fate’s been turning more dour with every passing day. By Judy’s reasoning, she was just another cog to be replaced within Clouds’ machine when the time came, despite the prestige attached to Evelyn’s name. This twist sure does present an unforeseen conclusion to his and Judy’s search for her — or an odd kink in the cable, at least.

         He hops up on the railing he’s been grasping onto for purchase during his attack. The glass framework above the Cherry Blossom Market lies behind him. He’d peek through it, if not for Johnny popping into view right next to him.  ❛  Not a word,  ❜  V deadpans while tapping the phone icon to call Evelyn. His curiosity’s got him ramped up more than his annoyance with Johnny’s eagerness to judge, fortunately — but there’s more to it than just that. Relief’s waiting just around the corner, and that’s what he’s running towards first and foremost.

          It takes two rings — or more like one and a half, with the second being interrupted — for her to pick up.  ❛  Evelyn?  ❜  Uncertainty tinges his voice. Though her texts gave him no reason to suspect impersonation, you never know in this city. Good faith isn’t exactly the thing to live by here. Scepticism is. Solace still waits for him, he feels, but there’s no feeling it until he hears her voice proper. He’s struck again by the strength of his commitment to her. Even as they planned the heist, it was almost as if his penchant for her left him more dedicated to her and her wishes than the money that was waiting on the other side. Damned foolish, that, but sometimes he can’t help himself.  ❛  ‘s that you? It’s me … V.  ❜

             EVELYN CAN FEEL HER HEART BETWEEN HER RIBS at the sound of his voice on the holo  —— it is heavy, all the world for a fraction of a moment is muted & swallowed up by the idea she’d rehearsed exactly what needed to be said & not said.  but now?  now, as the situation grows palpable by the second, such words ESCAPE her.  it is out of character for a woman whose repertoire of a silver tongue, micro-gestures & wielding one’s inhibitions. oh, how the ( perceived ) mighty have fallen. still, it hasn’t sucked all the DIGNITY from her, for she is far too proud, even with a fragmented mind.  thus, she saves face by putting on a face ; serious, but flighty.

❛ ——you’re alive.  a relief, ❜ she says.  how GENUINE those words are & the intent behind such comfort is in severely the grey.  & can assume it is the same for him.

she smells everything.  every nook and cranny of the place ; it smelled like an older woodframe behind the plastic foil walls, some waterlogged stone that was CHEMICALLY WHITEWASHED.  stale coffee a sticky brown ring on the edge of table, bleach from an old cleaning rag, microwaved burritos, scop ;  eau de NC.  sees a distortion of her reflection in the strip of faux metal beneath the window.  sharp eyes focus on peeling away at the layers of his perceived IMAGERY.  sallow, sleep-deprived.  boyish.  troubled.

❛ & none the worse for wear, ❜ that drawling intonation in HER VOICE returning to her like a second skin, & a pause,  ❛ i’d like it if you’d come to see me, ❜

it is in v’s nature to want to know the HOWS & WHYS behind all intricacies regarding her schemes & objectives ; she’d been given a taste of it upon first meeting.  at the very least, he allows her to keep her aces to her chest.  v isn’t the type to peek.  usually, anyways.  & it is most endearing ( & marginally appreciated, especially at a time like this! ).  still, she feels it prudent to establish a caveat before asked. 

❛ ——sensitive information. come to these coordinates & buy me decent cup of joe & i might give you a hint at how we can help each other, ❜

a smile.  false & PERFORMATIVE.

the potential risks involved makes it UNAPPEALING, but it is a favor from her lips. this brewing...scheme isn’t simply for the fame or a major league pipe dream ; this is revenge.  it is pure.  she did not deserve this.  the act.  although she remembers its potency ( could not forget the hellfire, the waves of migraines in her skull & how her neurological system was wracked with excruciating pain !!! ) all else is blurred at the edges.  her MEMORIES grow dull.  

❛ bring a few people to justice, expose one or two other little games.  sounds fair, doesn’t it? ❜

         REASSURANCE BLANKETS HER whenever campaigns take her to HQ. The tall structures built with impenetrable fortifications and protections, logical design, clean lines and the city’s general orderliness, the cuisine unmatched, and people who tend to follow etiquette better than other locales. There are less surprises, which, for a woman stuck in many of her ways, is generally preferred. 

         Her company marks for an aberration, though she did request an expert in security for a consult. That she was sent the top of the class by the CEO himself to essentially help handle the case speaks perhaps to the delicacy of the matter at hand. Large scale theft makes headlines, small scale theft may not but it accumulates and over time, hurting the company’s bottom line. With Takemura’s help, packing up this case will look quite good on her work profile and a boast to her position on the board.

        ❛ Your confidence is reassuring, Takemura-san. ❜ Wavy raven locks remain pinned perfectly in place with a dip of her chin. One who works for a Japanese company becomes attuned to certain idiosyncrasies and to using honorifics. She could converse with him in his native language, being business fluent, but obliges to his initial use of English. Unnecessarily accommodating. Now it is her turn to be the same. 

         ❛ Let me get you that list. ❜ Attention previously attuned to him, shifts to the computer terminal connected to three large monitors. Locked in Arasaka’s data fortress are case files and a list of security clearances that her department of oversight maintains and Brianne has access to. Palm coming to rest on the ledge holds the weight that leans forward with a bend at her  narrow waistline. The other’s pale digits play on the long keyboard, manipulating the user interface before then — dual security codes gain her access and internal files are soon displayed on the center monitor. Blue lines on a black screen. It takes a moment to locate the security clearance lists but she pulls those up on the right. 

         ❛ We can run a check on netrunning abilities, but I’m afraid that is something easily outsourced, ❜ sight corners to meet Takemura’s once more, her posture straightening. ❛ How do you suppose we vet them? ❜

             THE PROSPECT OF WHAT CAPACITY THE WOMAN-DIRECTOR aiding the highest ranking soldier in this assignment is cause for ponderance. this internal warfare would certainly challenge the other, because whatever she saw of inter-departmental complex shadow games of those with a linear desire to rise in station is nothing compared to a potential, external CYBERTERRORIST devouring chunks of a megacorporation.  would she falter?  or is she ready to SACRIFICE her entire being under the sigil of arasaka corp?  the answer he will arrive at a later date.

takemura graciously ignores her COMMENTARY.  not merely out of disparage, ( although he finds the exaltation & encouragement quite unnecessary for this exercise, at least until all has been completed! ) but for the sake of progressing the matter at hand.  he does, however, acknowledge & internalize how seemingly well-versed she is in the minute & socially modest INTRICACIES of the japanese.  thus, would make their exchange less culturally confusing.  for this, he is a little relieved.

while the younger woman readily gets to work as she hovers a TERMINAL, polished dress shoes click against the tungsten floor as he moves a few paces, light-ringed eyes scan one of two vast potted plants decorating either side of the archway tucked in an obsidian-painted porcelain with a gold, simplified sakura tree depicting its petals being SCATTERED to the wind ; a time of year where a flourishing beauty is fleeting. delicate little things that bloom, only to detach at the slightest gust.  bewitching in sight, but in reality, truly poignant.

a curve of soft blue light awash her arctic narrow features & long, BISQUE DOLL-LIKE LASHES in the interim. by the time she turns her gaze upon him, his mechanically-engineered hands of many metal demarcations sit behind a titanium spine that is straight & now at attention after the arbitrary thought has passed. reminding himself that he is to be TEMPERED as the strongest metal.  for many things die hard, but habits are often the hardest. break them while they’re young & naive, let war tear their souls out : that was saburo’s way, the old way.  & he mustn’t forget it.

there’s a moment of silence that lasts FIVE SECONDS, but seems like an eternity.

❛ ——i do not advise conducting interrogations, for it will rouse suspicions & ultimately make the perpetrator more cautious, ❜  a defined brow raised before a more STOIC expression washing over his lined face once more, ❛ for the time being, we must appear as though we are none the wiser ; portray ignorance until we have tangible proof, ❜

the datashard on shipping manifestos will prove to be a great RESOURCE for him to pick up on details he may have missed in the initial report.  the shard that he readily awaits.

The exhale that leaves through her nose and lips is nothing compared to the opening of her dark eyes. Where to even start? Her back cracks as she shifts her weight in this flimsy seat, her fingers move to the side of her face, keeping the cigarette away from herself and her beanie. If she had a headache before, it was now fully on roarin’. Her indicator remains there for a moment with her eyes not on him but on the Arasaka facility in the distance and the setting sun “Whatever the Arasakas sold you, that’s some intense shit to have you so willin’ to keep your head this deep in the sand, even now.“

And of course it was. She wouldn’t deny that he sounded like the type of man to stand by a company just because it was the honorable thing to do. That bein’ said, he did go against orders, ditchin’ everything to find her in a landfill. Even if that was to be a means to a goal.

She shifts, finally lowering the arm with the cigarette “You’re soundin’ like you’re not used to bein’ told when you’re wrong or bein’ confronted with a different opinion bluntly.“

Because her father would have been deferentially respectful to this man even if he had never met them. And even herself, she felt that pull too, regardless of her mouth. And that was worse. It was worse because she felt anger. It was pathetic. Each time she had tried to be polite and deal with any fuckhead from Arasaka she had been met with rocks. Like a fucking dog being hit each time they attempted to come closer.

   “Corporations have been tearin’ at this city to shreds for years.” she looks down to her own hands, thumbing the filter and watching the ash fall. Japantown had been on the rise because that’s what they fuckin’ did. But what would be the point to tell him how corporations were more than happy to tear into them? The amount of shit that the corpo war left behind in its wake? That his adorable and lovable Wakako had lost at least two sons to Arasaka? There was no point. Brown eyes lift to look at him from the corner of her vision “Even you, they chewed you up and spat you out when shit hit the fan. And you’re still tryin’ to get back to them.” 

Like a dog. A dog that also keeps running back and being hit, but keep running. And that too was sad, pathetic. How was he able to not be deeply angered? How could he stand there, before her, after all that was done to him and still want to go back? Did he truly hold nothing in him that he’d feel he was nothin’ without Arasaka.

   “Sheesh V., are you really ‘bout to psychologically dissect the guy?”

V. shakes her head, pulling the cigarette back to her mouth and releasing the smoke after holding it for a split second. She could start this conversation, actually ask him if he honestly thought she was just bein’ a contrarian but… What would even be the point of that, etiher? “Just honestly surprised at your lack of imagination, is all.”

             HE IS FIERCELY LOYAL TO THE NOTION rather than the entire corporation.  to love a country so wholly that it’s nearly clouded the senses, that is a kind of possessiveness that did more harm than good. takemura loves his motherland dearly, but he knows that his SERVITUDE to the late majesty was marked with unspeakable cruelty.  should the rest of society view him as a monster to tell their children as a cautionary tale, then he would let them. he knows what he did was right, he stands by all the deaths made on saburo’s orders. once DIRECTIONLESS, finds new purpose through his vision beyond the grave.  but his love for his country?  his love for his country wanted to see humanity grow.  progress.

had she garnered at least HALF THE WITS to provide substantive facts ( as he’d given more than one opportunity for her to do —— more than he should have afforded.  yet & still she still could not, ) rather than jabbering on about idealisms & rudimentary ad-hominem attacks, they would have engaged an entirely different dance of words.  takemura is a man of INTENT & rationality.  emotions matter very little in a dystopian society.  matters little in his world.

it is his keen sense of his history & his heritage ( a knowledge of self ) that made him sharp & callous.  but it’s what also made him PRAGMATIC.  he is not a blind optimist nor is he a cynical pessimist ; the middle ground, the logic & the reasoning of CORPORATE & secular politics.  

❛ an opinion is not a fact, ❜ he says, voice devoid of CONCERN, chin nestling above an obsidian neck augment, forearms sitting atop railing, keeping a fair amount of distance from the fumes of v’s cigarette,  ❛ ——one guided entirely by emotion & no substance, ❜

takemura’s expression is one of INDIFFERENCE as he gives a passing glance down at the other before cutting them away in favor of zeroing in on two guards walking the ramparts below.  he is not in the mood to cause a scene, as evidence by the tone his voice takes.  she knows nothing of the corporate wars in their fullest context or the many individuals whom were liberated from the pits of poverty because of arasaka corporation.  he remembers that she is young.  she is naïve.  poorly versed in worldly matters ;  having been cultivated in such a tiny, infinitesimal desolate BUBBLE her little over double-decade years of living.  & thus, must be treated with rudimentary presentation.  

❛ ——an old adage states, ‘to seek reason from the unreasonable is but a fool’s errand’, ❜

when you surround an army, leave an outlet free. do not press a desperate foe too hard.

❛ ——therefore, we have nothing more to discuss, ❜ in seven words, he has ENDED the discussion.  if she thinks him to have lost the debate for doing, so be it.  entirely at peace with himself in that aspect & that aspect alone.