Fandom Cyberpunk 2099

[StormWolf]

The sky over the port is the color of television, tuned to a dead channel…

A flat pall of poisoned lead clouds hanging low over Night City, blooming with the half reflected lights of the sprawl below - sodium silvery and painful as it drizzled twisting sheets of greasy, rancid rain. Neon and hologram lights splashed over the sodden concrete like fiber optic viscera.

Bloated, convulsing, choking; but the city keeps living and growing. The vast concrete canyons weaving the unbroken hive of the City of Dreams.

The City of Nightmares.

Shielded from the rain by a mega-highway cutting through Westbrook is one of the older haunts in Night City. A squat two floor cantina that has been the open alms of Solos and Edgerunners for generations – defying its own death and destruction to rise anew from the nuclear ashes of 2023, where it has stood resolute against the the ever-expanding mega-structures that box it it. Threaten to snuff it out.

The Forlorn Hope.

Here, drinks are exchanged for blood money. Bunker-sturdy booths provide security and anonymity for mercs of all stripes and weight classes of street cred. Where afterlife has the mystique and legacy of its own as catalyst and coffin for City legends, the Forlorn Hope is the watering hole of apex predators. Bar and patron have endured five corporate wars and countless smaller conflicts, nuclear fire, and repeated attempts at hostile takeover.

Yet it still stands. Defiant against a city where the only thing built to last is the machine that grinds the world around you to trash. Rick Freeman works the bar, same as his parents did before him – all-American tungsten-titanium hand working a wash rag over the countertop, mopping up booze and blood, shuffling away the brass casings and yellowed teeth from the latest brawl. There aren’t any automated turrets in the Forlorn Hope, but every display gun is fully loaded and fully functional.

No matter the hour, the Forlorn Hope’s neon sign flares and buzzes, advertising cold beer on tap, mixed drinks, home style barbecue, and live music. So long as nobody conducted their wetworking on the premises and left their bullshit at the door, the amenities remain available in the tradition of olde world taverns the world ‘round.

* * *​

When Diego dragged his ass out of bed that morning, he figured it wouldn’t be until sundown until he found himself in the deep end. Time enough to have a decent meal, give abuela her meds, maybe take a bite out of the day-job grind.

But here he was, blazing through the dusty dunes of the NorCal badlands behind the wheel of a klepped Wraithmobile with a righteously indignant host in pursuit. All before cocktail hour. Unethical. Insulting, even! His fists white-knuckling at the wheel in his tungsten-steel grip, Diego set his jaw tightly to keep himself from biting a chunk out of his tongue as the Type-66 soared over a low desert crest, splintering the trunk of a spindly joshua tree over the Quadra’s reinforced bumper.

Light munitions zipped and rattled against the chassis as a Raffen unloaded unloaded a submachine gun from the back of his bike, howling like a jackal all the while. Diego flinched away from the sharp impacts against the CrystalDome window, black prismatic pixel tears left where the rounds punched at the car’s shell.

“Carajo!” Diego spat, swerving in an attempt to ram the Raffen biker, only for the nimbler craft to serpentine away and in front of Diego and his stolen car. “Got you!” Flicking the red switch shroud and depressing the big red button, the Quadra’s twin-mounted machine guns coughed tracer streams through bike and biker. A body hit the dirt while the motorcycle tumbled over the crest of a nearby dune, taking a leg with it.

Yanking the wheel and cranking the gear, Diego spun the Quadra in a sharp 180 as he tumbled onto cracked asphalt, pushing in reverse as he matched the pursuing truck in a bout of machine gun jousting. Shards of windshield splashed against Diego, slashing at his cheek and pooling in the creases of his jacket. Lower to the ground than the pursuing truck, Diego’s counter-fire plugged through the grill - punching the engine block and driver-side wheel. Swerving, flames guttering; the crunch of frame against concrete k-rails.

Spinning the car about, keeping momentum, the last thing Diego saw in the badlands was the flare of a CHOOH2 tank going up.

* * *​

“Two-kay? Are you fucking with me?” Diego said, fists at his hips as he loomed over Burnout. The sharp-dressed chop-shopper was tutting softly against his polished chrome teeth.

“Temper temper, Cazador. It’s the nature of the biz. You should know this better than most,” Burnout said around an unlit cigarette, tracing a cybernetic finger around one of the bullet holes in the Type-66s door.

“You’re goddamn right. I know a tricked out Quadra like that can run for almost 80k.”

“And if you brought it back not looking like target practice, you would be looking at a far more substantial cut. But as it stands, amigo, I have repairs, detailing, a custom painjob – involving a fuck-bucket and a half of gold, by the way, and a small mountain of paperwork. So…” Burnout paused to flick his lighter, taking a drag as the butt flared cherry red. “You get two kay, because you still need to be paid for your work, but I need to turn a profit.” Lead-gray smoke swirled in a nimbus around Burnout’s head, his back turned to Diego, who had set to pacing like a caged animal.

“Come on, man. That’s hardly gonna cover rent…” Diego said with a sigh, broad shoulders sagging. Burnout kept his back turned to the Nomad, taking another drag and flicking ash onto the rusted hood of the Quadra.

“I know your situation, Cazador. You’ve been a good driver and merc, so I’ll do you a solid, provided you don’t lip me over pay ever again.” Diego felt his lips tighten over his teeth, ready to bare and retort, but as if sensing the Aldecaldo was about to make a mistake, Burnout continued.

“I forwarded your deets to an… associate. If they like the cut of your jib, they’ll be in touch. Deal?”

Silence hung in the air heavy as the smoke for a few long moments before Diego answered. “Deal…”

“Good. Stay in touch, get the fuck out.”

* * *​

Back at Woodchipper’s Diego leafed a handful of plasti-laminate bills free from the roll of Eurodollars he got from Burnout before dumping it into the old ammo tin he used as a safe. Mercy was working at truck in the shop, Antonio was god-knew-where. The radio in the garage squawked Morro Rock while Abuela’s room was full with one of her favorite telanovelas.

Diego was in the midst of loading Abuela’s airhypo with her evening meds when his holo chirped with a message.

>>[#ENC://Recluse] Cazador. Forlorn Hope, tonight – happy hour.

Diego squinted as he pulled his agent from his pocket. The message was encrypted, but it wasn’t like Diego had the mind nor means to run a backtrace if he wanted to.

>>[Cazador] Who the fuck is this?

>>[#ENC://Recluse] The handle gives it away, doesn’t it?
>>[#ENC://Recluse] Burnout sent me your deets. You want a job or not?

>>[Cazador] Yeah, alright. I’ll be there.

>>[#ENC://Recluse] Good. I’ll find you. And the others. Don’t be late.

Diego gave Abuela her shot and a kiss in her iron-gray hair before heading out to his car,
“Mercy! I got another gig. You’re in charge.” Diego jangled his keys, twirling the ring on his metallic black trigger finger like some discount TV gunslinger.

“What do you mean she’s in charge?!” Antonio called from the roof, wearing nothing but a set of daisy dukes and mirrorshades.

“Because only one of you is fetching a tan between the solar panels during shop hours, Antonio…” Diego was halfway into his Thorton before thrusting a finger back up at the roof

“And don’t forget to change the hepa filters! If Abuela is coughing when I get back, I’ll feed you your own ass!”

* * *​

Parked atop a stool at the Forlorn Hope’s bar in the basement, Diego rummaged for his rumpled pack of yeheyuans in his ballistic jacket, plucking a bent cigarette free from stiff cellophane and lighting it. He cast his eyes around, noting fresh caulk on the walls pathing up bullet holes. The band he’d never heard of giving it their all on the stage beneath the quartz halogen glare of the overhead lights. Laser lights and holo-technics bloomed through the thick haze of tobacco smoke and Night City humidity.

Diego could feel the languid trail of road-sour sweat slither down his spine. Elbows perched on the bar like the bipod of a cannon, the blackened metallic trigger finger of his right hand tapped at the dull countertop, subconsciously matching the rhythm set by the band. They were catchy; growing on him like a fungus.

“What’ll it be, killer?” Rick asked from behind the bar, metal fingers drumming expectantly. His two-tone black and pink hair sat in thick curtains, framing all-seeing emerald eyes. Diego took a moment to peruse the menu as it scrolled like liquid crystal past his elbow, grumbling thoughtfully around his cigarette,

“Hope Reborn.”

“Light or dark?” Rick drove on, grabbing a squat and angular tumbler from the clean rack.

“Light.”

Rick’s hands worked in a blur; mezcal, vermouth, and blood orange juice shaken over ice, garnished with jalapeno slices and a blood orange twist. Sweet, sour, spicy, and smokey all unfolding on the palette. Fucking perfection.

Now for the ‘others’. This oughta be good...

[ Karcen SomebodyElse Fox of Fate Nellancholy ]

 

[Fox of Fate]

Firebrand's Mission: Dirty Deeds (Done Dirt Cheap)
Firebrand stood in the bed of her Butte "Little Mule", machine gun mounted and ready as she hooked it up to the remote control system she recently had installed. She used her Kiroshi's to give one last scan, marking what enemies she could find. "Well this might be one less gang when I'm done..." she said, getting into the driver seat, testing the directional controls for the gun. Once she was happy she grabbed the wheel and sped forward, crashing through the metal gate, and then the rolling door of the warehouse and pinning one gang member against a wall with the front of her car, right beside some boxes of street drugs. The rest of the Piranha's were stunned and confused for a moment before opening fire, with Firebrand's machine gun returned the favor. It would quickly run out of ammo, but not before multiple gang members laid dead or dying. She got out as she heard a commotion from the leader's room. Once the leader and his bodyguards came out, they saw Firebrand, executing the last of the dying gang members. "I prefer not to prolong THEIR suffering...but yous I will be" she said, putting her gun away and bringing out her monowire. Two quick movements, the bodyguards were sliced up and the leader restrained by the super heated, molecule thin wire and Firebrand stepping forward. "Now tell me, why did you boost these drugs and go around the supplier?" she asked. The leader spat on her jacket, causing Firebrand to amputate his arm, she would then control the bleeding. "You have 3 more limbs, I can do this all day but you...if a human loses 2 liters of blood, they die, end of story so...shall we tempt fate?" she said, smirking.

Three hours, and three limbs, later the leader of the Piranha's was dead, and Firebrand had her information, Biotechnica had hired them. She searched the compound, finding a computer with the files she needed as proof. She then loaded up the meds and drove towards Rocky Ridge where they would be picked up by a transporter of the fixer that hired her.

A short time later she got a call. "Very good, unfortunately we can't move on this information yet...I know you want to burn the corpos but that'll have to wait...for now go to the Forlorn Hope, your particular skill set will be needed there." the Fixer said, hanging up before she could respond.

-----

Highway to Hell
The drive was uneventful. She had restocked on ammo for her guns, and refueled her vehicle. Passing through multiple Militech checkpoints in NC she felt...trapped. And like she was being watched. Which she was, and she knew it wouldn't be worth it to try anything against these corpo soldiers. She was outnumbered by...she didn't even know to one. As she arrived at the Forlorn Hope she parked up her vehicle, beside a strangely familiar Thorton, but right now she couldn't place who owned it. She walked inside and then she noticed Cazador, a fellow Aldecado, although from a different family. "Well whatever they need me for has just gotten interesting" she said to herself, sitting beside her fellow Nomad. "Let me guess, got sent here after a mission?" she said, chuckling, ordering a simple shot of tequila.

 

[Karcen]

Project Titan ( Tia)
mentions:
location: Japantown

​

Japantown one of the more colorful districts of night city and home to an equally colorful gang , a place where white was most often used only to show the vibrancy of the neon greens, and yellows, and reds of the signs, shops, and the gang members. This was not a place where the color white was truly noticed or left to show itself without something to take the attention, and yet something white got everyone's attention. Perhaps it was the pure white of the less than practical outfit, or the paleness of skin, or even the almost pure white hair of the figure that stood out the most. That would be true enough in a den of neon anyone in just white did stand out, but that was not the most striking feature of the figure, what most noticed first and what drew the most fear was how she moved. She didn't move like a tank that forced all others to yield, nor did the have a feline grace that saw her move like she was not a solid being, no she floated through the air. Her feet were inches off the ground as if the dirty earth below was not worthy of her touch. When people looked from the woman's feet to her fac however, they saw not hardened self righteousness that she was the greatest, but rather a disturbing innocence that seemed a paradox upon what all could tell was a being of power. A Psion a mutant with unearthly powers, an object of fear and envy, what others would have to spend many lives to gain he money to even mimic a fraction of she was born with, power. The mystery of psions kept many from trying anything, rumors of what they could do were well knows, mind readers, flesh warpers, mind enslavers, there was no telling what danger lurked behind the innocent face of the floating woman. It was only by these rumors that the unearthly woman in white was left alone, their fear of the unknown perhaps saving their lives more than they knew. If they move, if they attacked, if they tried to call in NCPD then they would unknowingly be drawn into her game.

Tia moved through the twisting maze that was japantown completely lost. She had gotten direction and even told where to go, but it was not easy to find your way around on an empty stomach and in an unfamiliar place. Tia had tried to ask people, but when she moved close to them they away ran off shouting something about psions and devils. Tia didn't really know what any of that meant and why they were saying that to her. None of the scientists had ever talked about devils or psions, they had mentioned deamons, but that it was other peoples jobs to deal with those. Still she had a game to play, someone named recluse, assuming they weren't some spider, had contacted her to play a game. Tia had been hiding form Militech after she had kind of of blew up one of their floors. This recluse must be working with militech so the job they offered had to be one of the games that Militach had her play. That was a good sign to Tia as it meant Militech was at least less mad about what she did, so many she could go home soon. Tia didn't really think she was escaping or hiding from Militech for any grand reason, she was just trying to avoid getting i trouble. Still the game that recluse wanted to play was an odd one, normally games were hunt down the arasaka soldiers, or destroy the arasaka base. Really most were to do with arasaka who Tia was told were really bad people so it made sense. Still they were just games and the people were fine after the games, or so she had been told. Really they had been good actors, Tia had even sometimes thought they might really be from the evil arasaka, but they were just there to test her.

This game was to get a thing from a place and take a person down. Well she had to get a chip from them, just another game though Militech was being so mean as they didn't tell her where to get any food. She had decided to hide not long ago, but she hadn't known that people here had no food. For Tia food was a colored paste and its was normally grey, but sometimes had over flavors based on the color, her favorite was orange, but when she asked if people had any grey to eat they were confused. Really Tia was tempted to just go back home and get grounded or whatever militech decided. Still she didn't want to get punished and Militech was likely still made so she couldn't go back just yet even if she was hungry. Well maybe they would have food at this place forlorn hope. That really was a weird name, it wasn't lab hope, or section hope, or anything like that like at Militech. The outside world really was just as strange and weird as the researchers had told her it was, though not as scary, or well everyone seemed scared but she didn't know why.

Floating through the street Tia would figure out from the map where she was and where the drop box was. The reasons he floated was nothing special, the researchers had told her it was good training and had trained her with it so much she just kind of floated by herself without even thinking about it. She almost needed to focus to not float these days, as the new thing in her head made it even harder to force her power to turn off completely when her instincts told her to do something. She had to get a package and a chip from the person delivering it. What the package was Recluse hadn't told her, but Tia knew to obey orders when told and not to question them so she wasn't about to do so and make Militech think she was dumb and had forgotten. Still how did one remove things from people? Or was this shard in the person or something they were carrying?

" Hmm questions questions maybe i should take the head as well?" Tia asked herself not at all getting this would be fatal as well she had been told what she had done in other games wasn't so she had no reason to think this game was anything different. She had also been told they could fix any people she broke so she didn't have to worry about anything. " But people get scared if i bring them back heads i wonder why?" She mused remembering times she had been told to get the head of commanding arasaka officers in games and when she brought the heads back the ones given orders had seemed scared. " Maybe it was the blood?" That had to be it before she had been bloody when she brought back the heads. " Still heads have lots of blood, i'll just take it apart" that was a good plan to Tia.

With the spot picked the question was who was the person? Tia looked around people either turning and running away or giving her a wide berth for some reason like she would bite them. That was kind of mean she was a very good girl, minus the one bit of trouble she was in she had always been a good girl. The spider person had sent pictures as well so Tia looked through them while she waited. " hmmm lets see she mused flicking the air as she looked through the pictures then looked around.

She was not the one who found her target, as the sound of gunfire erupted and bullets flew at Tia. she almost didn't have to think as she turned in the air and the bullets stopped before reaching her. her telekinetic powers shielding her with an unseen wall of force when she unconsciously sensed the danger. Tia had been shot a good few times to train this reaction and every now and then she would have something thrown at her in the labs without warning to see if she would stop it.

Looking to the source of the gunfire Tia would smile it was her target. The person was not exactly anyone that stood out in a crowd, and Tai might have missed them if not for the gunfire. Why he had decided to try to shoot her tai didn't know, the reason in truth being his fixer had learned someone was after him and tipped him off and the floating girl seemed about as much an interception as anyone, Still it was his mistake. Tia had no weapons to use, while Militech trained her to use her powers they did give her weapons that she had to use her powers on, btu she had left them at home. So she was in a little bit of a bind as the target unloaded more bullets at her, which was annoying. While her shield was powerful enough to stop bullets, it wasn't unbreakable, powerful ordinance or just volume of fire could bring it down, but this man only had a hand gun. That was at least what she thought as seeing his gun was having no effect and well with it now just being them as anyone sane had cleared the street at the sound of guns. The man had more than small arms, he had mantis arms. The blade unfolded and with a speed born from augmented legs he leapt up into the air both blade brandished at Tia.

What exactly he was trying to do Tia didn't know " Does he think i can't deal with him up close?" she asked herself as she was able to deal with anyone at any range with her powers, well not any range snipers had always been the worst for her.

Tia raised a hand and telekinetically gripped the man before bringing her arm down swiftly, bringing the man who was caught mid air slamming down into the ground. it was enough to crack the pavement, but not enough it seemed to keep the man down as his arms held another surprise as they launched mini missiles from a hidden lower port. The arms were a very costly custom bit of chrome and they could launch gas grenades, namely smoke. Tai was left blind to where the man was as even if she blocked the smoke she could not see through it.

The man could have run, but then he might be chased and would have to deal with the issues that came with fucking up a dead drop. His only good option right now was to take down the mutants blocking his path. More shots ran out form the smoke and Tai was surprised having to focus to make sure she was protect in the right area to avoid whatever trick the man had. The truth was the only trick he had was desperation as he tried to stay out of sight and Tia tried to grope blindly in the smoke with her powers to try to grab him. She was expecting something like a shock grenade or frag grenade, or some kind of explosive she would have a very hard time dealing with. it was just like on other games where they threw her weakness at her.

The expected blast never came and the smoke only lasted so long, the man was revealed after a short time and only then did he try to run when he realized his barrage had truly done nothing. Dealing with this fuck up might be a head ache but that was better than being dead. he never got the chance to run as Tai finally got to see him and once more her powers were able to grab him.

" Looks like i win " Tai said with a childish giggle " Now to get the shard and package " She said her powers going to work as she found a box that looked right. The man tried to make sounds but Tai closed his mouth with her mind, she didn't like screams that were close, they were all to real. " Shardy shard where is that shard " She mused her powers keeping the man aloft as s she telekinetically tore his clothe s apart ripping them to shreds and keeping it all suspended. " Nope not in the clothes" She sighed the man nude before her " i guess it's really in your head that's no fun blood is really scary you know?" she asked rhetorically her tone like she was chastising someone for playing a game wrong.

" Well i guess i'll just have to take you apart then, i am sure Militech will put you back together just fine they always do in games" She said as she focused on the mans head. His skin started to deform his eyes going wide with pain and fear, all of which was lost on Tis as she peeled away his face with her mind layer by layer. The blood that splattered forth impacted the unseen wall between the world and Tia and ran down it. She continued the blood all being pulled away from the bone and metal skull which shattered under the strain of her attack. everything came apart as the seams, plates and screws being torn into smaller bits that they had been installed as. The mechanical bit of the man floated apart as Tia looked through what had once been an edgrunner and finally saw it. " Found you" she said happily reaching into the floating parts and picking up a shard that had been in the mans head

With that she let the man fall her game here done, though she had to deliver this stuff the the forlorn hope.

Location: Forlorn hope
Find the bar was much easier than finding a person, as buildings didn't move in Tia's experience. though people were still so very odd about her, she just didn't get people that weren't in games or part of militech. The outside was scary btu not that scary it seemed. Getting into the bar was an issue as Tia was apparently unknown or so the man at the doors said. he had only relented when she mentioned the spider that had started the games. Tia hadn't really been told much just get the stuff and go to the bar then wait. Well bars had food right? Tia floated to the table that she guessed was where you got food " Do you have any orange, maybe just green?" She asked not knowing others wouldn't get she was asking for food, and completely obvious to how painfully out of place she was.

 

[Nellancholy]

The night was bright and cold.

Zi-Kuen, or at present, Shiba, lay prone on the roof of an abandoned gas station on one of the more isolated parts of the Watson district. It had been a long time since the structure had smelled a single drop of CHOOH2, but its relatively isolated location made it unlikely to be repurposed except as a temporary shelter for transients and outlaws. And at this moment, a sniper's perch.

Shiba peered through the sight of her ACR towards the roadhouse bar on the other side of the road, discerning the presence of her prey. It was Borzoi who had passed the job along to her through the Mastiff network (which sounds cooler than a group chat), and Cane Corso who had tapped momentarily into the NCPD's traffic cameras, allowing Shiba to track them down to this location.

Her gaze narrowed as she zeroed in on the heavyset man leaning on a muscle car in the parking lot, smoking a cigarette. That bit was a useful bit of information. At the very least, he had two big, conspicuous cyberarms framing his dusty singlet, and a multi-optic mount covering the upper half of his face, impossible to hide. Yep. That was him alright. If he wasn't a Maelstrom goon she'd eat a Kevlar bikini. And it was hard enough doing that once. Now, if he was just some regular gonk, she'd just walk up to him and punch him out before taking his prisoner back. But a chromed-out freak like that...

With a twitch of her right (human) ear, Shiba's fringe of tech-hair swept away from her face, exposing her right eye and tucking itself aside neatly. She engaged the smartlink system just for a little extra insurance, lining it up at her target, and...

THWIP

A single bullet streaked by the ganger's face, knocking the cigarette out of his mouth. His head immediately jerked towards the source, like a provoked rhino. Shiba rolled onto her back, switching her grip to her weapon's undermounted shotgun. She didn't need to see him to know what was coming next. She just needed to brace for-

WHOOSH

Propelled by his augmented legs, the goon soared into the air. Just as he cleared the edge of the gas station's roof, Shiba squeezed the shotgun's trigger.

BANG

The spray of buckshot didn't land a telling blow, but it tore off some of the armor plating of his gorilla arm. Growling in rage, he landed with a certain lumbering agility, skidding around to face Shiba.

"Oh look, a bitch came along looking for its little puppy! I'll be sure to show him your head once we unwrap him!" He took one more menacing step forward, stomping down hard in his furious bravado.

The roof buckled and gave way, sending the ganger plummeting down into the interior of the small building.

Clicking her tongue, Shiba descended as well. Pulling her knife from her belt, she fell a little behind his shoulder, jamming her knife into the exposed conduits of his arm. Whether he bothered to replicate pain through it or not, the damage certainly seemed to generate some kind of feedback, as he roared, flailing back and forth. It didn't take him more than two seconds to regain his senses; perhaps the pain editor was kicking in. That didn't matter. She'd end this quick. Dashing behind the shelves of soy snacks and flat drinks, she knocked a few of them on the ground, daring him to try and round the corner after her.

"You think a little toothpick like this is enough to stop me?!" The arm she had stabbed had gone limp, but the rest of him was very much still functional. He ripped the knife out of the circuit it had embedded in, shattering it in his fist. "Or a little buckshot?! Here's what real firepower looks like, bitch!" Just like that, a heavy-caliber gun barrel popped out of his wrist and fired, a white-hot roar that practically disintegrated one set of shelves. Alas, his hunter was nowhere to be found. "That's right! Just try and run away! I'll find you!" And try he did, his eyes flashing to thermal vision, then electromagnetic-

"There you are!" His functioning arm smashed through the ceiling, dragging Shiba down from the ceiling panels she had hidden above. "Now...I'm gonna peel your skull like an orange-"

"Tch. Keep talking. That'll make this work faster." She raised one hand, in which sat a grenade. In the next milisecond, it triggered, spewing out a cloud of thick gas.

The goon barked, a malicious laugh. "Haaaaaaaaa! You think you can run away? I can see you! I HAVE you in...my..." His posture slackened, the soporific gas acting rapidly upon what organic tissue he still had. But his grip, to its credit, remained strong, even as his brain lost the ability to order it to crush her bones.

"Come on. You never had me." With a swipe of her hand, Shiba retrieved her baton from her belt, a flick of the switch setting it to discharge fully. Just as surely as if she was holding a knife, she jammed the weapon straight into his throat, high voltage frying his nerves and doing no small damage to the ware in his head.

As the gas dispersed, she knelt over the unconscious thug, scanning over his possessions.

No key. No problem.

---

It didn't take long to confirm the exact vehicle in the roadhouse parking lot that her real target was being held in. All she had to do was follow the smell of piss and fear.

Sauntering up to the muscle car, Shiba raised her hand and firmly slapped the trunk twice. "Hey kid. You in there? I'm coming to getcha."

Swiping her thumb on her Agent, she ran a script written by Corso to unlock the doors of the car. It didn't take long for them to open, and the trunk with them.

There he was, a skinny fellow bound in tape and zip ties, laid with plastic and ice packs. Figures. Not only were they planning to forcefully induct him, they were probably going to shop around whatever they cut out of him for a few extra eddies. Sighing, Shiba reached down and peeled the tape off, before picking him up like a luggage bag.

"P-please! Don't cut me open! I can pay you! Anything but that!"

"Shut the hell up." Shiba muttered. "Your parents are already paying me and I see no need to double dip."

"Wait...my parents...? They sent you to save me?"

"No, they just hired me for my conversational skills." She growled, tossing him into the backseat of the car and hopping into the driver's seat. At another signal, all the doors closed, though they didn't lock. "Now, stay quiet back there and pray this is gonna be a quiet drive."

---

And a quiet drive it was.

It didn't take long after her arrival at the Forlorn Hope for one of Queen Morosha's lackeys to pick up the package and the car, with a "firm suggestion" on Shiba's part that she get a few eddies extra for adding to the fleet of "lightly used" vehicles Morosha could sell to prospective buyers on the street.

With all that said and done, she slid up to the bar, feeling her muscles decompress against her polymer-lined skeleton.

"Pacific Rim Neon Smash." She dropped a small roll of cash onto the bar. "Chilled, in a glass, no ice."

As the glowing blue drink arrived, fizzing in its vessel, Zi-Kuen took a deep breath in, and then exhaled. Finally. A few more minutes and she'd be getting the shakes.

 

[SomebodyElse]

Well not bad. Not bad at all. Chloé had gotten a decent job. Not paying just in the form eddies but in the form of any instruments she could snag there as a bonus. She didn't remember the name of the band that Juke, her fixer had told her go rob from. Not that it mattered. She was however a member of a band herself, well not exactly. While no longer a member of The Pleurs, although particularly nobody was really a member of The Pleurs; she did however still produce some solo hits by herself. Her fame wasn't anywhere near the height of what she had been during the band's height but alot of their songs still sold hard. She of course never saw a single eddie from those sales but it was good to see at least the underground scene still respected her old work.

When she arrived at the place it had seemed like some beat down house. A quick usage of invisibility and it wasn't any problem sneaking through a window. Abandoned, and full of trash. Looked like some gonked out place with trash everywhere, empty beer and a bunch of black lace inhalers all over a table.
"Dieu, what happened here?" Chloé said.
It looks like whatever band bailed out on Juke went off the deep end. While I came from a troubled band myself, it's not like I really can ever say that I went off that bad.
Chloe wasn't really any stranger to seeing bands drinking booze or getting blitzed. She tried to stay away from it mostly herself, but she'd be lying if she never drank. There were more than a couple times that her old band went out and got wasted as hell.

"Well I guess I better find that master record, now don't I?" Chloe said.
It probably wouldn't be too difficult to find it, clearly this wasn't the room with the good stuff. She would probably be looking for their studio room. She managed to walk through the connected hallway, and made her way to another room with "Do Not Disturb" on a plaque on the door.
"Ha. I get that, I wouldn't want to disturbed in the middle of recording either." She said.
Ofcourse as she made her way through the door, it led to a great studio, everything was preem, preemer than shit you've ever seen. The latest and greatest in equipment.
I really wish we had this level of stuff, we didn't even get this grade of tech when we were at our height.
It was beautiful really. Top level microphones, electro-soundproofing on all the walls, hell they even had some signed Samurai Guitars.
"Where the hell they get these? You can't even find these anymore." She said.
Picking up the guitar she plugged it in before strumming a few riffs, seemingly forgetting that she was here to steal their master record off their latest album. Her mind drifted to the past, remembering the old days of her old band.

"Hey snap out of it Chloé. You got those deets from Yulia right?" Said Leo.
She did but she didn't really understand how the hell Jace got his gonkhead in that level of trouble. This wasn't supposed to happen. They were supposed to headline Neoplosis in literally three weeks.
"I did yeah but mon dieu, how did jace get himself tangled with a corpo murder? This is crazy.' Said Chloé
"I know but this is why I had us meetup here, we're gonna need to make an official statement soon, otherwise we're done-zo. We should cut ties with Jace otherwise we're gonna have saka assassin's on our head. I got a deal with our producer, said he has a deal with some execs as long as we cut officially cut Jace."
This was crazy, they were supposed to just forget the years they spent together with him and just leave him to dry, who knows what they'd do to Jace.

"Drop the guitar, kid" "Said a voice behind her. It brought her back to the present, Chloé realized she still was on the job to steal Juke's contact band's master record.
Turning around she saw it was one of the band members that Juke mentioned. Sadly she would likely have to fight her way out of it. She looked around before tossing a microphone at the guy's head, hitting him clear in the forehead, stunning him.
"AGHHHH!" The guy said.
She took advantage of the situation, bashing him with the guitar, knocking him out instantly.
It doesn't take much huh, guess these guitars are sturdier than they look.
They were. Not a single scratch on the guitar but clearly the guy was out cold with a slight cut dripping blood from his head. Had it been one of her old guitars it probably would've atleast been abit scuffed up from the hit. She swore that she'd need to get some better equipment if she even became super famous again. Her band back in the day was seriously lacking in that department. Chloé had decided that she had spent enough time here. It was time to grab the record and dip. She set down the guitar against the wall. She looked around and saw a bin full of records, shuffling through them she looked until she found one with the exact date and name Juke had mentioned. Grabbing it she took it out of the bin, before glancing back at the guitar she had placed against the wall.
"Well. I guess you're coming with me." She said. She picked back up the guitar and strapped it around her back before heading out of the room and sequentially also leaving the house. It was time to deliver the record and collect her reward

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Forlorn Hope, right? Apparently it was some bar in downtown Woodland Park. Strange she had never heard of it till now. She didn't really have a ride of her own, perks to being a basically broke starving musician that practically lived off odd jobs as a edgerunner. She had to take the metro system to get there, thankfully when on the train nobody seemed to pay her much mind, even with a signed Samurai Guitar, although it wasn't clearly visible while strapped over her shoulder.

Making her way off the metro she made her way to Forlorn Hope. In the bar she waited to find Juke but couldn't to no avail, still she decided to wait by the bar.
"One Johnny Silverhand." She said, finding it only fitting to drink to him since she just jacked a guitar signed by his band.
"Cheers." She said. Before taking a swig and downing the thing. Today wasn't so bad. A good steal, a good guitar, a nice drink. She did knock a dude out but hey a jobs a job.
Hopefully Juke would arrive soon and she'd get paid. She could probably sell the guitar for a nice fortune too. It wasn't too unordinary to see a rockergirl, and she didn't think anyone would really recognize her anyway. Old fames dies fast, huh?.