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[engrams]

« @SILVERHAND » TEXT ✧ AUDIO ✧ VIDEO ✧ ACTION Johnny Silverhand ✦ Cyberpunk 2077
RESIDENCE ✦ Townhouse
GEMBOND ✦ Ruby "Not here. Leave a message."

INFO ✧ PERMISSIONS ✧ KINKLIST ✧ EXTRA

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[secondconflict]

Johnny!

Whatcha think the legal ramifications of music rights contracts are after one party dies and then after that both parties find themselves on an alien planet?

Wanna make sure we have an agreement about what to do with the old tunes here.

[engrams]

[Johnny’s voice is that of gruff amusement mixed with a hint of utter dismissiveness.]

Pretty sure Earth contracts mean shit once you’ve gone and traveled across the universe. Doubly so if one party’s technically dead.

Why don’t you tell me? Thinkin’ of charming the alien audiences with some oldies but goodies?

[secondconflict]

[Kerry had expected dismissiveness and teasing. He seems amused more than anything.]

No, dumbass. Wanna make sure you know it's still all yours. Gave you everything that was Samurai back home, plan to do so here too.

Just want to make sure you have it in writin' if you want it.

[text] un: yackie (post FEB event)

[culero]

Got your number from the directory.
Guess you weren't a hallucination after all.

[engrams]

[Well, now. If it isn’t another one come up from the realm of the dead to exist on this rock, if this is who he assumes it is. Johnny sets his jaw, thinking for a sec, before replying.]

Believe or not, my days of playing ghost haunting someone else’s existence is gone. I’m as real as they come.

Jackie, right? You catch up with V yet?

[culero]

How can you tell?
How can you be so sure that any of this shit is real?

Yeah. Both of them.
Neither of them are the V I know from home, but the vibe is the same.
Still fam.

How about you?

text; un: nomad | during the storm

[disrupts]

6 hours ago
You at home?

[ Maybe it's the storm causing interference with communication. Maybe Johnny's busy. Maybe he's hurt. Maybe he's illustrating his ability to not reply or pick up when V calls.

Whatever the reason, V's not feeling like fucking around right now, and the idea of any of his people out in this storm alone drives a slow-moving chain of messages over the course of his own entanglement with the extreme weather. ]

4 hours ago
Johnny? Where the fuck are ya?

3 hours ago
Just found Ker in the storm. Wasn't exactly himself so please fuckin drop me a message when you get this so I know you're not fucked too

2 hours ago
Ker's safe at the house. Where you are though's a fuckin mystery. If you get this before I find ya I'm out looking for your millennial ass if ya couldn't tell

1 hour ago
If I find your gonk ass flatlined somewhere I'm gonna zero ya myself

1 hour ago
Fuck you Johnny

1 hour ago
Fuck if you're dead somewhere dunno what I'm gonna do

1 hour ago
How the fuck am I supposed to fill this fucking hole inside me if you're gone?

1 hour ago
I'm done losing people I care about

1 hour ago
Not gonna let you die you fuckin asshole

1 hour ago
Not that I know where the fuck you are and if this is what it feels like after Mikoshi... don't feel right. At all

1 hour ago
Probably shoulda told you this before I thought you might be dead. Again

5 minutes ago
So... you can fly now?

[engrams]

[The truth of the matter is simple: it’s not because he’s ignored V’s texts, or because he’s dead in a ditch somewhere, or some other worst-case scenario dredged up by the apocalyptic storm. It’s plain ol’ interference.

Proven by the fact that all these texts sweep into his device at once, an endless buzzing deluge that had Johnny scrolling to catch up.]

Jesus.

[Looks like V ran the gamut of emotions in the time he couldn’t get ahold of him. He can’t help it; a shard of guilt sticks in him because of it.]

Yeah, got wings now. You see me flying above the city or something?

Cool it, V. I’m fine. Didn’t get any of these texts until now. Need me to find you?

[disrupts]

[ Apparently V's typing. ...for the next hour. But, eventually, there's a message. ]

No. I'm fine

[ As fine as a man who's had to be rescued from a storm he passed out in the middle of. But now that he's got his brain mostly working again - and he's safe at Nanba's - the relief he felt right before his face had a meeting with the sidewalk is back. ]

Saw you helping somebody

un: strife

[coraza]

["not here", no shit.]

no news on any places blowing up.
are you dying in a ditch somewhere?

[engrams]

[Well, what timing. Johnny's just been released from the slammer no more than an hour ago, and he's already gone his separate ways from V for the time being. In fact, he's planted himself against a nearby building, leaning his back against the brick, just so he can finally indulge himself in a cigarette.

Cloud's message comes through just as he's lit it up, inhaling deep and checking his device. A few of his missed messages have already been tended to, but this one's particularly amusing.]

Been in jail.

Why? Miss me?

that gift~

[disrupts]

[ Weeks have passed since they'd occupied the inside of a jail cell, and V hasn't stopped thinking about the fact that the gig was a failure. The way his frame of mind is right now, it'd be easy to get caught up beating himself over the head with that fact, but instead of giving in to it, he chooses pragmatism.

Whenever Johnny's next rattling around in their shared townhouse, he'll find a guitar propped up against a wall of his bedroom with a note attached. ]

looked preem and reminded me of you

[ V doesn't sign off the note, but if Johnny turns the guitar over, etched into the back in small letters are a familiarly shaped 'J.S.'. Enjoy your new axe, Johnny. ]

V is way too good to Johnny weh

[engrams]

[The axe screamed in bright, waxed red the moment he entered the room, and Johnny was well and truly confused for a moment — thinking about where it might have come from, what did he do, exactly, that he doesn’t remember doing.

That’s all wiped away the moment he picks up the thing—real preem, real pretty, probably sings real nice, too—and spots the note and the engraving on the back. Surprise and gratitude twist in his chest immediately after, and he only puts the guitar down by its neck long enough to fish out his device and send a certain merc a message.]

Hey V, [It starts, and though most people would at least begin with a thanks, Johnny finds it difficult to be that earnest right off the bat, and so—] how many people did you have to fuck to afford this thing?

[classic silverhand]

un: nomad

[disrupts]

So about the other night...

[engrams]

[Honestly, who ever wants to read a text that starts off this way?

Since Johnny would rather not juggle all the potential specificities in his mind, thank you—]

What about it, specifically?

audio | un: sparkler

[liberaltus]

[It took a bit of research and a lot of consideration before Dorian decided that broaching this subject with someone who was virtually a stranger to him was a good idea.

But this was a stranger who knew V better than Dorian did and at the moment the mage did not know what else to do.]

I realize we've never met so I apologize for the ambush, but I was wondering if you could clear something up for me [if Dorian needed anything now it was a bit of clarity] about V...

[Dorian pauses briefly realizing that there's more than one V, which adds to his predicament just a bit until he can find the right words.]...the one who's a bit out of sorts these days.

[Out of sorts is a nice way of putting it, out of his mind is more accurate.]

[engrams]

[Johnny doesn’t prioritize messages or contacts from people he doesn’t know, but events as of late have allowed him to make an exception — especially when the man on the other side mentions a certain merc, one that’s been rather problematic as of late.

The frown’s probably heard in his voice.]

Out of sorts? More like outta his fuckin’ mind.

[Johnny doesn’t care to parse words. At least the sentiment is shared.]

What exactly did you need to clear up? You a friend of his?

[secondconflict]

Hey Johnny, I got an idea in my head. Wanna mull it over with ya, see what ya think.

[engrams]

Yeah? Alright. Color me curious and run it by me then.

post-july event; actionnnn

[disrupts]

[ Slowing V down for more than a half hour at a time's usually more effort than it's worth. This evening, though? V's shattered. Turns out chasing after a bunch of kids at least a decade younger than him in most cases is enough to get him to slow the fuck down. Sleep is likely in his near future, but for now he's deposited himself on the ground in the backyard as light is bled out of dusk until its night.

The firepit flickers mesmerizingly and, for a moment, he's completely still, optics focused only on the yellow-orange tango the flames dance. As far as he knows, everybody who was affected by Malachite's bullshit is back to whatever passes as normal here. For now he's got five minutes to just... stop.

The benefit of being kept on his toes is it's left him little time to think about any of the things he learned. Seeing all these people he knows well regressed back to a younger version of themselves has been a real eye-opener well after the fact. And probably none more than Johnny, a man he's been giving space the last couple of days no matter how much the itching impatience of wanting to see him might have felt.

Sipping idly at the drink he brought outside with him, there's a tune that's been in his head this entire time. A tune that he stops quietly humming the chorus of the moment he realizes he's not alone. With the can of soda still pressed to his lips, he glances over his shoulder, brows raised quizzically. ]

[engrams]

[Yeah, his time stuck in a younger body has been a real eye-opener, the kind that makes a man remember why he didn’t wanna spend any longer in those memories than necessary. Going back to “normal” hadn’t been as straightforward as it should’ve been, not that this planet fucking cares; it’s hard to forget about how easy it was to laugh back then, how weightless life had really felt even though he thought he had it tough. Being Johnny again is like having a weight re-deposited in his lungs, when he had gotten used to how difficult it was to breathe in his adult years. A reminder of how much had changed, just how useless and naive he might’ve been back then.

And his arm… Jesus Christ, he had his arm back. And just like that, he’s without it again; that ticks his boxes for the return of some uncomfortable psychosomatic trauma, because of course it does. Can still feel like his real arm’s there; can still feel the pain of it getting blown off now and again, even though he didn’t have the pleasure of living through that a second time.

The firelight compels him, the nighttime air feels like a fair distraction. Seeking solitude with a guitar slung over his shoulders has always been the second best way to clear his head. Drinking, smoking, and drugs were always first, but not tonight.

Of course, by the time he makes his way to the firepit outside? It’s clear he’s not alone. He can make out the silhouette outline of V before he other man notices he’s even there, humming an all-too familiar tune. A part of Johnny figures he should just turn around now, but the stubborn part of him knows he can’t ignore this forever. Wouldn’t be fair in the end.

Johnny steps forward into view proper, the light of the fire making his red guitar practically glow.]

‘You know where you are? You’re in the jungle, baby. You’re gonna die.’

[He huffs, and with a few long strides finds himself sitting on the opposite side of the firepit, metal arm coming up to tune and fuss at his guitar.]

Ain’t that the unbridled truth. You know, used to think for a while, when Samurai was really big, that no one else’s music was even worth playin’. Guess I forgot about all that time I spent in that shop, goin’ through guitar tabs day in and day out — all the shit I learned from bands that came way before my time.

end of july/early august idk; action

[disrupts]

Seen the--

[ Propping himself up in the frame of Johnny's doorway, V's question trails off into obscurity the moment he spots what exactly it is he's been looking for. Without really paying attention to where Johnny is, his optics fix on the small cat lying on his back right in the middle of the bed, legs askew in the air like some kind of cat yoga. For his troubles, V gets a barely cracked eye from the cat who regards him with disinterest.

'course the cat's with Johnny. ​]

Nevermind.

[ Only now do his optics flick to Johnny, the small grin at his lips matched perfectly with the humor buried in his eyes. There's something he's leaving unsaid, but it's nothing but a clear comparison between the human-shaped cat and the actual cat. ]

See how it is.

[engrams]

[The cat can’t be bothered, and for a moment it looks like the rockerboy can’t either. Attention only when it’s deemed worthy — very cat-like indeed.

Johnny’s shakes out a hand, though—the organic one—from where he’s seated at a messy little desk, and it soon becomes clear why he couldn’t bother looking up at V just yet: he’s just finished a silver sheen of nail polish for each nail. A small bottle of the stuff sits on the corner of his desk.]

Likes me better than you. Don’t blame ‘em.

[Finally looking over at V in the doorway with a grin—]

Just look at me, after all.

text; un: nomad | some time during the heatwave

[disrupts]

This place gets a degree hotter and I'm gonna not so spontaneously combust

Thinking bout hitching a ride to one of the other islands until this all blows over

Open invitation if you wanna come with

[engrams]

Didn’t know you were a delicate flower, wilting in this kind of heat.

[Says the man who grew up in awful summers (not quite this awful), or is a Ruby. In other words, he’s giving V shit.]