* 𝖕𝖎𝖓𝒌 𝖉𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓 ;   ───  a  selective  /  private  roleplay & writing blog for protagonist , streetkid “ 𝐕 ” from cyberpunk 2077 .  written by aurora 25 + ,  she  /  her .

              STATS  /  HEADCANONS  /  TRACKER  /  PINTEREST  

VEDA KALDAS   :     voidbeings​:

            THE SHARP STEEL TOE OF HEELED BOOT STOMPS on the tarp while her pistol remains raised, slides it back with fabric caught underneath to rip the veil away from obscuring the state-of-the-art tech on wheels.  for all of its described chrome glory, it is actually underwhelming in design.  it appears boxier than the common make, lacks the necessary fenders, but possesses multiple delineations, suggesting that there slots for IMPLEMENTS to retract from. keeps an eye on the young solo as she states her case.  valheri doesn’t entertain most of it.

one-handedly hovers left cyberarm over where the DASHBOARD & speedometer should be & opens palms for a protocol to work.  the gen-keys provided by the client pierces through the ICE to encrypt its datafortress in a matter of seconds.  following a jingling chime, what was once a smooth surface with no viable display in sight begins to illuminate digitally atop with a timer.  a click.

❛ does strike me a little shady that—— ❜ 

abruptly, she turns her head to pass a ONCE-OVER at it.  a pinprick of something nefarious grips her with a chill.  { 10...09...08...07...06... } innards are fast filling with a gelid sense of urgency.  discomfort.  something’s wrong.  

❛  ——bail! ❜ 

as though her body is its own entity,  whips around & takes off.  stilettos SMASHING into concrete.  yellow sliver slit across the lot & sparks. & in a single wave of light, color, & an ear splitting shriek, the device explodes.   everything goes white.

BRI-BRI    :    prvtocol​

            KINDRED SPIRITS ARE HARD TO FIND.  nobody in her immediate circle understands where she comes from.  those who show an ounce of resentment post-involvement are branded as weak or bitter ( nevermind the strongest of women are forged by the sting of being accosted simply for existing, to be designated as second class, but people often tend to forget those little details & prop them up as harpies & witches! ) the city no longer operates as it did in the old era, the world of bloodlines & birthrights.  𝐕 has forced herself, cut her way into the CENTER STAGE as a viable contender in the gritty underworld of mercenaries.

valheri velvet aleida rosario-cruz.  the pink daemon.  the wrath of heywood & the scourge in a SINGULAR woman.

it isn’t difficult to tell which directions both DEVIATED as a result of their collective experiences.  one has internalized it & has become ivory-coated steel & the other, a conductor of deadly electricity.  a small, unreadable SMILE momentarily touches her lips.

❛ ——monumental fuckup, you & i.  but you live & you learn.  at the end of the day, we all hafta’ play the cards we’ve been dealt, ❜ she nods firm for EMPHASIS then shakes the glass before setting it aside for a sip of water to chase away the buzz.  ❛ ——or repeat the same mistakes like a gonk, ❜

as time wears on, however, pressing THE SUBJECT further sets a tiny sense of...unease to tingle the white hairs on the back of her neck.  ( an internalized defense mechanism that has never quite been corrected! )  it is largely one of the primary reasons she doesn’t like to talk.  there are far too many stakes involved in these probing conversations.  it’s a game of 4d chess.

it grows quiet.  awkwardly so, by fault of the netrunner ; letting in the sound of JAZZ MUSIC penetrate their realm & airwaves along the sound of chatter from the place’s patrons.  fill the gap.

the netrunner-solo takes a small tablet from pants’ pocket, the thing is likely no larger than a modern day handheld smartphone, something far more compact than the standard wide-screen of its model & make.  inserts a small datashard into the port, the encrypted data begins to decode & display itself for 𝐕’s reading.  some pertinent information for future reference & among some other VARIABLES mined from the deepest reaches of the net requiring the adequate amount of chipware to obtain & to access.  giant pale coral irises aglow a touch of seafoam blue with a buffering whirlpool of data frosting its edges.  & judging by her BODY LANGUAGE, that segment of the conversation is over.

with a touch of finality, focuses gaze on brianne with a PLOT flickering in her expression.

❛ ——ever been to a gun range? ❜

changes the subject outright.

MISTY OLESZEWSKI   :    mindsmade​

              & SHE QUIETLY MARVELS AT THE WOMAN who presents herself so gracefully as though it is bone-deep.  there’s a careless showmanship in the way she leans forward with the mug between her slender, hugging fingers.  (  such is the presentation of a girl who has surpassed her human capabilities & takes up the mantle of a medium between this world & the great void ! ) she has a sense of making one feel as though they are the only person in the room, an attentive listener, an EMPATH.  there is no doubt in her mind that it is of her many qualities which drew in an equally eccentric individual like jackie welles.  

𝐕 sits in an existence that will never see ‘the quiet life’, an existence that will never PHASE out peacefully.  ( she is a dying, decaying husk in her own fast descent to technological ruin —— wrapped in a cocoa-colored suit of pretty skin! ) the shock of has all but subsided & yet, there is not a speck of self-deprecation in those sharp & giant coral-colored irises.  time comes to a crawl as she reads misty’s slight TREPIDATION in body language she uses while gesticulating her point.  serenity & neutrality settling into the netrunner’s characteristics.  curious.

spears another small subsection of omelet & quietly chews.  it must be TAXING for those with the gift, to possess eyes that line an infinite mind, to examine the entire world around them in all its gravity & roundness in the void.  to see beyond one’s own human capabilities are a striking horror to behold ; beautiful & unsettling.  it drove her to punch through the bubble of their neon-lit realm to seek answers that she was meant to find here all along.  a path that demands she OPERATES through her humble esoterica.  𝐕 does not shy away from the arcane or scoff in the face of it, for her upbringing was largely surrounded in mysticism through osmosis.

❛ ——an interestin’ leap from nc to nepal, ❜ she says into a CARAMEL-COATED sip,  ❛ hard to quit the city.  personal testimonial, ❜  

meticulously, mixing the liquid as the question arises, JARRING SOUND of ice scraping against plastic & one another like shaking a bag of dominoes.  a soft, slow blink.  

❛ nah, 's always been my mom’s & sister’s thing.  never really got deep into it like they did.  nevertheless, i still find it pretty dope, ❜ flicks the straw,  ❛ grew up with it, so it’s not a foreign concept to me.  well, maybe your brand is.  speaking of —— anyone else in your family into the mystics or just you? ❜

a smallish figure MOVES in her peripheral.

GEAR

OR-10N   :    sevient​

              IN THE LOW-LIGHT, her once strange irises aglow indicating remote control of the device through its angry red oculi, plotting a viable course for their departure from this precarious steel labyrinth, dims to a flickering hue that of a white dwarf star.  one blink & it completely FADES into the void of cold, biting & maddening darkness.  ( by this late hour, they have adjusted to it, perceiving or-10n’s mechanized shape ! )  her brain still processes the data transmitted her up to the point of his inquiry, calculating the equidistance of a well-timed leap to the adjacent platform based solely on memory. 

elbows are fastened over the ice cold titanium railing as he speaks as though to dissuade her dogma.  one that she’s sunken her razor-sharp claw FINGERNAILS into long ago, from the moment the first bit of metal & technology slid beneath the surface of her disgustingly organic skin.  it was a baptism in fire & blood that’s made an entity of 𝐕’s caliber something harder & STRONGER than steel.  for him to ask of her to suggest peace of she —— a woman, whose entire career is predicated on the very diametrically opposite of it, is like coaxing blood from a stone.  improbable.

❛ ——not that hard to draw attention in this town, ❜ a defined, dyed brow raises before a more stoic EXPRESSION washes over her features, ❛ & in this town? peace ain’t an option ; nobody respects it.  power only respects power, ❜

❛ ——there’ll come a time where we all gotta’ decide if for what we want is worth the evil shit we do. ❜

CORPO #48854  :      argentwhisper​

             HER PRESENCE IS GARGANTUAN, a woman who towers over most with a gall to wear razor-sharp stiletto heels that can conduct red hot & slice metal & man in one swift kick.  she is there in this dusty old warehouse, the entity in the galactic core of a business transaction as a liaison ( today, her role permits her to be nothing more than a stand-in to verify that the product & service touches the buyer’s hand at the behest of a well-paying client with no attachment to it all! ).  per the seller, the trade was already talked through with this CORPO-WOMAN, all else is extracurricular.

she looks at the stranger with dead marbles for ENLARGED IRISES & wordlessly gestures toward the weaponized drone.  there’s an arctic, gelid & reserved nature about the netrunner-solo.

in similar fashion, valheri doesn’t have time for the platitudes or to entertain the niceties of corporate exchanges.  the clock ticked & she beat HER WINGS to the rhythm of the clock.  lets fingers tipped with those clawed pink nails curve over the casing of cyberdeck strapped to thigh, then past that in favor of a cigarette & a lighter.  beside her hovers the piece of technology in question ; slick black in design & as wide as a present-day briefcase yet bulky with junctures for surveillance camera lens & a hermetically sealed slot securing BARREL for projectiles.  a combat drone.

grabs the warming cylinder by it’s metal top & it hums while turning the cap, FIZZLES out into dark. the red light vanishes & so does the warmth. the only form of warmth ever presented in this exchange thus far & it’s external.  chemical.   

❛ ——one milisec, ❜ comes her raspy voice, SKIMMING the other with eyes ringed of a cerulean glow & tiny, unintelligible numbers & coding scrolling them to transfer authorization for her to wield the weaponized done, ❛ program sent. ❜

pops the cigarette between lips.