engrams | [ Noctium ic inbox ]

[The angle’s a little awkward since they’re not sitting directly opposite of each other, but Johnny can make it work. He scoots closer, shaking the little bottle.]

Reminds me of you tearin’ through the badlands, flyin’ over a fucking hill like it was the last one on Earth. When the sun was goin’ down, I remember always seein’ a color like this through your eyes.

[He uncaps the polish, and begins to work on V’s first nail. Slow and methodically; unlike his usual mannerisms.]

On the horizon, reflecting off the metal of your ride, or even across your fingers, clutchin’ the handlebars.

Fire and light. That’s you, V.

[ There's a twist of something bittersweet at that. Johnny's not far off poetic, V thinks, but those memories... yeah, he remembers those. The Badlands are a harsh, unforgiving place in a slightly different way to Night City, but fuck if he doesn't miss it at times.

Living in a townhouse like this is easier after having his own apartment in NC, but the urge to put pedal to metal and aim for the horizon is such an integral part of him that it flares brightly in their connection. A deep, aching longing for the open road and no particular destination in mind. ]

For a while, thought I was gonna move on from the city. Never meant to stay as long as I did.

Not 'zactly built for cities.

[A longing that’s always been clear to Johnny, ringing through their connection like a bell. Even before this place.]

Guess wanderlust is just part of bein’ a nomad.

[One coat, and the color already shimmers. Johnny moves on to the next, eyes fixed on his task.]

No one’s built for Night City, kid. It’s a monster with a thousand rottin’, neon teeth lookin’ to swallow everyone whole. Even if you do manage to get out, it sticks to you like tar.

Not that you got a reason to hightail it outta there. Might as well bask in that rep of yours while you can, watch the eddies roll in.

[ Quiet for a long few moments, V watches the brush strokes, the way his painted nail is already shimmering. He watches Johnny's concentration and the effort it looks like he's putting into being neat.

At this point both of them have seen weirder, but it still gives him pause. ]

Eddies are preem when ya got 'em, but...

[ Not really what he wants. Yeah, it makes a change having money for once, and being the top dog versus the scruffy nomad underdog. But it still doesn't compare to feeling free. ]

Mostly I was just lookin' for a way to live.

[ Huffing out a mix between incredulity and frustration, his eyes settle on Johnny's profile as he works. The thrill of what he's about to say, the memory of it, runs down his spine like electricity. ]

Was in space when I got pulled here. You believe that? Halfway to the Crystal Palace, in space.

[ 'course, where they are now, the number of times V's been back to Nova Station, maybe that takes the novelty out of it. But being in space at home? That'd been something. ]

[He scoffs, amused.]

Well, you lookin' for a way to live is just assumed on my part by now. You give up from that, I'll materialize from the Net myself just to kick your ass.

[This time, he does glance up at V, sparked with interest.]

Crystal Palace, huh? Christ, that really is the big leagues. Remember seein' the ads, though, "The Las Vegas of Space". Makes me puke just thinkin' about it. Sure you would've had a grand ol' time with a bunch of rich fucks up there.

Yeah. Was countin' on it.

[ Probably an understatement, but V's thoughts have already veered off in another direction, Johnny's words his compass.

All the weird things that work here, the fact Johnny's here at all, pulled from the Net like that digital barrier didn't mean a thing...

The fact that they have magic.

It's not really a purposeful thing, but the liquid in the tiny bottle separates until it's clear at the bottom and dark orange at the top. Whoops. ]

Was thinkin' 'bout ya while I was up there. Almost missed the Silverhand special commentary.

[ The dark orange pigment starts to draw down in a tiny whirlpool until it looks more like a miniature tornado in a bottle. Even when he's not touching things V's apparently incapable of not messing with them. ]

[Even though he's here and present in this world, a part of Johnny still pangs with a dull ache, knowing that they've split elsewhere. That reality, unkind and irreversible, still looming like a shadow, one that even Johnny's rebel spirit can't disperse. Even so, it's good to hear V doing well -- taking risks, really living in order to live. If that's how it's got to play out, then he supposes he wouldn't change a thing; other than maybe twisting the arm of fate to guarantee the man's success.]

Hell, I can give you that commentary right here if you want. Already got my mind made up about the kind of place it is, the kind of people who feel the need to lease their space in space. Frivolous showboating. Might as well just set fire to a few billion eddies, it'd be the same thing.

[Offended by the very thought, Johnny tries to dip the little brush back in the polish bottle, but it looks like solution's separated -- not only that, but twirling.]

What the fuck... V- [Johnny kicks his ankle with his boot.] Stop messin' around.

[ A dull ache that's not his own but he feels it too. Might as well be his because he knows that ache intimately. The commentary is appreciated, even if it is belated. Better late than never, and that's something he has to mentally step back from because it's a slippery slope.

The kick at ankle provides the kind of relief he needs, a sharp punch of pain piercing what could otherwise be an ocean of anguish.

The polish at least stops its storm in a bottle routine, though it'll probably need shaking again to blend it back to how it was. ]

Eat the rich.

[ Or something. ]

You think people're ever gonna escape that? Don't gotta go far in Night City to find the other end of the scale.

[He doesn't enjoy feeling like he's standing on the precipice of something that feels like sorrow, borrowed from V, highlighted by himself. He doesn't want to spend anytime wallowing in regret, not with him, and he's glad to redirect the conversation elsewhere.

Capping the bottle and giving it a shake like it's the most exasperating thing to do in the world, he reflects the question back.]

‘When people shall have nothing more to eat…’

[Or something, indeed. He scoffs.]

What do you think?

[He's curious, wondering just how departed V's own take is from his own cynical beliefs.]

I don't know.

[ Which isn't a full answer by any means, but V's watching Johnny shake that bottle like he's preparing a cocktail, and it gives him enough time to think it through.

He leans back in the mismatched chair, palm sliding away from Johnny but his leg stretching out. The side of his boot ends up rested lightly against one of the rockerboy's calves; touch for the sake of it. ]

I hope so.

[ Hope, he's still got that. Certainly flickered a lot more from the constant flame it was since he arrived in Night City, but it's still there ]

We took down Arasaka. Smokin' pile of megacorp 'fore I left for the Crystal Palace. Not impossible, guess a lot's ridin' on people believin' that.

Maybe more do now than before.

[Johnny takes a moment before replying, seemingly distracted by the little bottle, undoing all remnants of the storm within. The reality is something different, though, just the rockerboy taking his time with that shred of hope presented to him by V. Optimistic and fragile, like holding a baby bird in a pair of hands that only know how to break and sunder.

He doesn’t want to break this, not really. For all his cynicism, the years that have dragged their claws across his mind and soul, he wouldn’t keep rebelling if he didn’t believe there was hope. If there wasn’t some glimmer of the promise of change, if he could just yell into the mic loud enough, if he could just wake the whole world up, if he could just make a statement.

V’s right. A smoldering Arasaka building was a hell of a statement — but people’s memories are short. Transient. Diluted with time and convenience.]

Tell you what I think.

[Not that he ever needs an invite.]

Things’ll change if one of two things happen. One: Arasaka and all the big corpo machines suddenly grow a set of morals, basic human decency, and ease their grip on everyone and everything below them. But the sun’s gonna eat the Earth before that happens, so I’m not holdin’ my breath.

Two: people do more than just see a statement—that big middle finger to Arasaka, for instance—and go, ‘Hey, maybe someone else will make things better for me’. Do more than just sit around and wait for something to change. That whole damn city’s gotta wake up and stop rolling over to the corps just because it‘s easy. And pullin’ people away from things that are easy is probably the hardest fucking part of all.

So yeah, it was a step in the right direction. Makin’ people believe. But Arasaka’s got deep pockets and society’s got a short memory. Don’t need to remind you that’s not the only time that place got wrecked to hell, and decades later, it’s like nothin’ changed. Just got worse.

[ Aware of Johnny's cynicism intimately - how can he not be? - V appreciates the answer. It's not that all he's hearing is doom and gloom, that anybody outside the 1% always opts for easy even if that keeps them under the thumb of the corpo machine, ready to get ground up to dust. What he's hearing is realism, and though it's not exactly a shining beacon of hope, it's not Johnny calling it impossible either.

A part of Johnny still believes, and that in itself is more than enough for V to turn over in his head inspecting it like a jewel found in the harsh climate of the desert. It's enough. ]

Not the only time. But that's twice now. Two times Arasaka got beat down.

Not gonna make it easy for 'em to rebuild.

[ Maybe that sounds like V's overestimating his own power in the city, but he doesn't mean it like he's got armies of people ready to deploy. What he has are contacts, though. And whatever favors he needs to pull in, whatever he's got to do to make an Arasaka return difficult, he'll do it. ]

'sides, I got a particular skill for stickin' to what I want.

[ He's not even going to pretend like he's not talking about the two of them. ]

Somethin' worth fightin' for's worth all of me.

[Johnny nearly shakes his head, amused despite the subject matter that always turns him bitter. If anything else, V’s always been a man of his word; stubborn as hell, too. He has no doubt he’ll follow through with making life a pain in the ass for Arasaka and all the big corps.]

Got no doubt about that. Give ‘em hell twice over for me whenever we get back home.

[He points at the flat surface of the desk again.]

Put your hand back down. Not even close to finished yet.

[ The real miracle here is that, somehow, V hasn't smudged the coat Johnny's already painted on. Impressive, really, considering his penchant for being unable to sit still for any length of time. Not that he really sees it for what it is; he's not all that familiar with how frustrating it is smudging nail polish.

Hand flattening out again on the desk top, as though he's about to let Johnny play Five Finger Fillet with his 'ganic hand, he scoots closer so he can rest his forearm on cluttered surface too. ]

'course. Even let 'em know who it's on behalf of.

[ With his optics pulled back towards his own hand, and what Johnny's doing with his nails, his mind drifts pleasantly this time. ]

Been thinkin' 'bout bein' here. What I'm doin' with this time.

[ Borrowed time, maybe. Relative to both his own longevity, and being able to spend time with Johnny, Jackie, Vincent... people he knows won't be there if they get sent home. Honestly, he's thought a lot about wanting to stay. He knows Kerry doesn't want to, but fuck, it's difficult to want to leave this place, even with all its problems. ]

Wanna have fun. And I want to make a difference.

[Johnny uncaps the bottle again, the copper-y rust color shining on the brush. He works on an unpainted nail of V’s with the same steadiness as before, though he does lean an elbow onto the desk, reflective of the merc’s own body language.]

So what’s that mean, then?

[Curious, it’s a simple question. Having fun and wanting to make a difference are both generalizations in their own way, could swing towards either side of the spectrum. Johnny isn’t surprised that V’s time here has him wanting to make the best of an unusual situation, surrounded by people he’d not normally get to spend time with.]

The havin’ fun part’s easy. But making a difference? That mean more than just runnin’ gigs and workin’ on your bike?

[ Humming an agreement - the kind that betrays he's not sure what it looks like yet - his eyes lift again to watch Johnny's expression as he concentrates. It's not passed him by that things between them feel more relaxed than they have before. Solid, stable.

Either way, he can't deny the urge to want to do more here. ]

Been back to the sky station couple times to help.

[ Admittedly at least one of those times was solely to avoid Johnny. But it doesn't change the fact he went and helped rescue people. ]

Just feel like while 'm here, and I don't gotta worry 'bout shit at home... could do more. Don't just wanna run gigs for Red.

[ Whenever the opportunity's presented, he helps Kerry with his music shit. Whatever that looks like, from being security at the showcase to helping him make merch. What he wants is to be involved in a way that helps. ]

Wanna go see more. Trippy shit, and the shit we don't get to see at home. Past month's been messed up but I learned from it. Keep forgettin' to stop 'n just... taste the fruit, or somethin'. Smell the flowers.

Wanna make the best of the time you got. I get it. Hope that’s a sentiment that carries back home whenever we get return.

[Murmured with a veiled focus, working on V’s fingers. If nothing else, he can’t argue the point — making a difference in the ways available to a man is all he can ask of the world, and most of the world doesn’t even listen. If V does, though? Well, that’s important. Means something, and he’s glad for it.]

You find somethin’ you think is especially worth seein’, you better call me up so I can take a look, too. Like I said, I want a piece of the action.

[The last nail finished, Johnny leans back, motioning at that same hand.]

Gotta let it dry now.

[ Figuring that anything Johnny repeats is worth the attention at least, V's focus is hanging on every imparted word. Just so happens that V'd have no hesitation in extending an invitation. In fact, he'd probably sooner assume Johnny was coming along without an invitation.

But he nods his agreement all the same, optics drawing down to the sheen of color on his nails and the urge to touch is powerful and bordering on all-consuming. Even he's not gonk enough to follow through, not when he's certain something bad'd happen if he did. Still... ]

How long's that take? 'cause I really wanna...

[ Wiggling his fingers fractionally, V's optics flick up to the older man's face inquisitively. He wants to touch is what he means. ]

[ Noctium ic inbox ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject