#svmvrai

@svmvrai​ sent: “Fear can make you kind.“

 ❝    I’m  not  afraid,  I  fear  no  one  here.  I  don’t  fear  Arasaka,  or  corpos.  I  am  kind  because  Night  City  needs  kindness.    ❞  She’s  being  honest  before  motioning  for  a  friend  to  pour  them  another  set  of  drinks.  Arms  stretching  out  behind  her  on  the  pink  velvet  couch  they  were  sitting  on.  Pink  heels  were  kicked  up  on  the  glitter  glass  table  in  the  middle  of  the  sectioned  off  area  of  the  bar  before  her  head  tilted.  It  felt  like  a  challenge  almost,  but  she  knew  better  than  to  read  into  it.  People  here  were  always  naturally  weary  of  such  kindness,  such  warmth  and  she  knew  that.  After  so  long  in  hiding,  living  amongst  these  people  and  away  from  the  holy  hellfire  ivory  tower  she  was  born  in  she  knew  so  much  more  about  people  and  how  to  read  them  even  better  than.  before.  Pausing  for  a  moment  humming  with  the  song  that  was  playing  throughout  the  bar  moving  her  head  slightly  before  offering  a  smile.  If  anything  she  would  take  the  statement  as  a  compliment,  trying  to  figure  out  who  she  was  and  what  motivated  her  was  admirable.  But,  it  wouldn’t  work,  people  trying  these  things,  well  they  never  worked.  As  good  at  she  was  being  kind,  being  one  of  the  best  fixers  and  most  reliable  people  in  NC  Barbie  was  better  at  hiding  things.  No  mentions  of  being  Star  Marion,  no  following  connections  and  it  had  been  nearly  five  years  since  she  left  it  all  behind.    ❝  Kindness  here  often  brings  apprehension  purely  ‘cause  fixers  ain’t  always  trustworthy,  no  one  in  Night  City  is  really.  But,  I  ain’t  here  to  try  an’  prove  why  or  who  I  am  to  ya.  I  just  wanna  offer  you  a  job,  a  couple  o’  ‘em  if  ya  decide  ya  like  what  I  offer.  But,  if  my  nature  is  off  putting’  then  perhaps  we  should  call  the  meeting  off  now.  ❞    

it’s  late  at  the  no-tell  motel,          the only place that lizzy felt like she could actually breathe away from her handlers and caretakers that swooped on her like hawks. as if she was little more than fodder. there’s something oddly comforting in the fact that this smoke laden hellhole is away from most of the chaos of the city. that only the most stubborn of screamsheet writers would ever venture towards. away from crowds of people and the calls of managerial staff, she allows quiet to enter into her sanctum; the sounds of the city giving her the most unusual feeling of ease. it’s calm, even in the chaos, maybe even because of it.

𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚢𝚘𝚝𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚓𝚘,   she’s holding a cheap glass of champagne in one hand,   the other slung around his neck as she warbles.    the room is alight,   some vivid neon and pulsing with the music.    it’s electric,   like all of night city itself was bleeding and breathing with each beat.    barely audible over the music,   over the hum of people,      ❛     corpos are going to start the fireworks soon,   come with me!    mamí welles gave me the roof key so we can sneak up.     ❜

the year looks back with a scream,   terrible  rotten  2076.    the pounding of boots on the floor,   half-dragging him up the stairs,   insistent prattling about some nonsense.     the city blazes,   luminous and holographic,   light pollution having slaughtered the stars long ago,   the sky scattered argent in a false mimic from the lights.    the moon haunting behind some advertisement,   glow of the wealthy looming down into the district.    the champagne between them is cheap  &  still in the bottle,   their legs dangling off the roof.

she can hear the bells,   the countdown clock booming in the distance.    there’s the corpos sitting up in their towers,   eating fresh fruit and drinking whiskey that cost more then she’ll ever see in a lifetime as they sit on a roof with the cold setting in as they wait for fireworks.    HAPPY  2077!    it bellows in the sky,  consuming everything in lambent colours in the night and erupting in fireworks;   city awake in screams and laughter,   hollering as the dawn of a new year encroaches.    it’s a  graze,   half on his lips  &  the edge of his cheek,   smearing vermilion matte on him,   the  taste  of  champagne  on her lips.      ❛     happy new years,   v.     ❜

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬  𝐡𝐚𝐝  𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧  𝐡𝐞𝐫  𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚, going to a moxes party for once not held at lizzie’s but instead a safehouse near the edge of watson. she dragged v with her, because, why wouldn’t she? the music is loud, obnoxious even, and it’s raunchy even for a mox party. eventually it leads to candy going outside for a breather, a much needed one, because time is an illusion in this space. the arbitrary ticking of the clock, and the swell of waiting. new years, new start, new bullshit. man, maybe v was rubbing off on her just a little bit. or maybe she was just getting tired of the game.

it’s  hard  to  tell  these  days, what isn’t hard to tell is the fact that she’s smiling. things feel right, almost perfect even. she won’t jinx it with those kinds of words though, she knows better. maybe superstitions are bad, but, they haven’t failed her yet.  ❛  hey  cancan.  ❜