silence

[ biography ]

[rykerwang-blog]

Maybe the guy had a sore throat or something, Ryker thought as she read the words printed on the tabet. At least his handwriting as decent, a fact that made her almost annoyed. Her handwriting was neat solely for the reason that it had been forced into her, and it had been one of the few habits that she still hadn’t quite yet expunged. “Ah, are you new around here? Well, if you ever need an upgrade on knives, I think I could hook you up with something good,” she said, frowning slight as she saw that she had finished her screwdriver. “And, do you not speak or something?”

[greyfiels-blog]

Not new, exactly, but I haven’t had a chance to look around before recent times. Grey nodded to her offer, sure he’d eventually need a new set of blades - they didn’t last forever, after all. His were still the same ones he’d hidden shortly before his trip to the hospital, and they weren’t doing all too well after a year of just sitting there. That’s correct; I don’t. Couldn’t was more accurate at this point, though there was nothing physically wrong with him, but he didn’t think that mattered much to this stranger.

[rykerwang-blog]

“A glass of water that you could pretty much have gotten for free either way - knife thrown or not. Alright, whatever floats your boat.” Ryker shrugged watching as the bartender slid a simple glass of water to the man. “What’s the point of being at a bar if you’re only going to drink water?

[greyfiels-blog]

True, but still. I’ve been looking around Night City, that’s all. I figured I may as well go everywhere. At least that way he could meet all sorts of people, even if it wasn’t in a place he had any real reason to go to. Beyond that, there were less people in one bar than there were on the streets, and he didn’t have to deal with the crowds quite as much.

[mototwinkclub-deactivated201911]

How dare you be so adorable?

Puppy and puppy.

[onexye-blog]

  Q scowled at him, the man was taking an awfully leisurely approach to the escape plan, not that he’d constructed an actual plan. He was more or less making it up as he went along. “You don’t talk much,” or at all. The sound of a canine and its owner, who by the sounds of things was trying to scale the fire-escape Q had come up, made him jump into action. “Hurry up, shit.”

  He glanced up ahead, there was a ledge within his grasp that might put a bit more distance between himself and the dog’s damning jaws. Q pulled himself up and over, sprawled on his back by the time he made it up onto the roof-top, hardly the queen of grace. “C’mon,” he leant over to beckon at him, even offered out a hand in-case he needed or wanted it.

[greyfiels-blog]

Of course he didn't talk much - there was no room for communication in this moment, not unless he wished to stop and write out every word he wanted to say. With the slightest roll of his eyes, he quickened his pace to a run - perhaps that would do, since the other seemed so intent upon keeping them both out of danger. Grey was mostly sure he could ward off whomever was coming, but some battles were better left unfought.

This stranger barely seemed the kind to be able to get himself on the ledge, but the scout found himself proved wrong - no matter. It was easier for him to get himself over than it seemed to have been for the other, though, seeing as he landed with a bit more grace than him. Without a second thought, he grabbed the man by the shirt collar and, with a rough tug, pulled him back to his feet, then gestured across this new rooftop. Weren't they still running?

[onexye-blog]

  Q scowled at him not prepared to fully explain what had happened with pursuit still hot on his heels. “Uh, look you gotta move, alright?” He closed the slight distance between them, stride long and confident as always and with a complete disregard for personal space put a hand on his shoulder. Gestured wildly over his shoulder with the tip of his gun, “big ass dude and his bitch are coming up here, and I don’t mean bitch with tits. We’re talking a fucking beast that wants to eat these.” Q quite vividly gestured to his crotch.

  “That ain’t happening today, wanna keep ‘em,” he all but winked at him. Q’s expression quickly soured again extremely averse the prospect of becoming the dog’s snack and already heading in the direction of an escape, a thin walkway that lead across to another roof. Clearly someone had made themselves at home up here. “You coming?”

[greyfiels-blog]

  Grey glanced at the stranger’s hand on his shoulder, but his gaze returned to him after a moment, the other eyebrow rising at all the frenzied gestures. He highly doubted that any dog would really want to eat a human’s testicles, but he didn’t question it - not that he could’ve done so aloud if he’d wished to.

  With a slight roll of his eyes and a sigh, he turned to follow the stranger. The only way he’d get the answer to any inquiries that would doubtlessly come later was to go after him, and so he did, footsteps quick across the rooftop.

[thorlor-swiffer]

Visit Original Link

[greyfiels-blog]

Hello darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again, Because a vision softly creeping, Left its seeds while I was sleeping.

[inez-trejo-blog]

Inéz almost rolled her eyes. Almost. His last little tidbit ‘not to put one above the other.’ Did exactly that, in her mind. Despite the mans forced politeness, Inéz still felt the sting, as if a slap to the face. She decided to chalk it up to her being oversensitive. What did it matter anyway? It was not as if she could be rude. She could not slander the Lair’s reputation that way. Instead, she put on a fake smile. “Of course.” 

[greyfiels-blog]

If I find anyone in search of this sort of place, I’ll be sure to guide them here. That was the least he could do, what with his apparent insensitivity. You’ve been very kind to me and my idiocy; for that I thank you.

With that written and shown to her long enough to read, he turned to make his exit, a flicker of guilt riding his conscious. Murder was nothing, but unintentional rudeness was another entirely.

[rykerwang-blog]

Oh. Well that was interesting. Seemed as though there were more people who carried their own set of blades than she thought, and the thought of that made her smile. “Mhm. Definitely fine. So, what can I get you?”

[greyfiels-blog]

Just a glass of water - like I said, I don’t drink. His smile was tentative, unused to this sort of ordeal. The thought that a display of what he took to be a survival skill was enough to garner a free drink on any occasion was surprising.

[inez-trejo-blog]

Obviously, Inéz thought, but did not say. It was sort of adorable, this man’s innocence at what kind of operation he had stumbled into. She presumed he had figured the Lair out finally based on the deep flush of his cheeks. 

“That’s okay, we welcome everyone, new or..” She tilted her head, rolled her eyes a little, playfully trying to think of the best way to describe her frequently returning customers. “well-established, I supposed.” She smiled at the man then, genuinely, though her gaze remained demure. “Did you maybe want to look around?” She offered, gesturing a hand towards the main floor. 

[greyfiels-blog]

A look around. Should he bother to stay that long, or would it be better to take his leave? I’m not sure a person like myself should be in a place like this - not to put one above the other, but only because I don’t think I’ll ever use the services offered. That was about as polite as he could put it while still being blunt: this place was not for him, and it would be a waste of both his time and hers for him to look around. I hope you understand.

[onexye-blog]

  He was in trouble. When wasn’t he. The kind of trouble that dwarfed run-ins with irritated solos into innocuous blips and he’d had plenty of them over the years. Put it simply Q wasn’t so sure that he could run from this but he was going to damn well try anyway. Faster than most, but that was largely down to the sheer amount of adrenaline in his system. The fixer had scaled a nearby fire escape and after leering over the building edge to ensure his followers weren’t in pursuit, they were, he made a dash for it across the roof-top. Golden gun still in hand glinting under the fluorescent light, only the gentleman tonight, he froze. “Uh, look buddy ya might wanna move—”

  Out of breathe after running for his life, “ain’t the best place for sight-seeing and all.”

[greyfiels-blog]

  To keep to the skyline was something he preferred. The ground was dirty, and the streets were crowded with strangers; the best way to stay out of the way was to stick to rooftops. No one disturbed him up there, generally, but the usual silence was broken as someone sprinted into his field of vision. Great.

  A single eyebrow rose in curiosity, lips forming a small o of surprise, but he didn’t give a verbal response. Rather, he got to his feet, gesturing vaguely at the other as though to ask, what the hell is going on?

[rykerwang-blog]

“No.” An amused smile played at her lips as she slid her knife back into its sheath. “I just didn’t know if you were the type to carry any of your own.”

[greyfiels-blog]

I wouldn’t let myself get caught unarmed, and knives are a bit easier than guns. A blade was slipped from his forearm sheathe, and he turned to throw it where she’d directed previously. Damn his injuries, for they nearly caused him to miss, but he was only a centimetre off center from directly between the two posters - still clearly within the range she’d given him. Is that fine?

[inez-trejo-blog]

“No, only payment for the services you desire. And of course, tipping is considered polite.” She said, though she thought ‘required’ rather than ‘polite.’ It was hard not to grit her teeth as she answered in the technically correct way for this man who had clearly never been to a strip club before. 

Not all of her customers were as gracious as others, although most of the time some of the more well-behaved customers would get a hold of those who were unaware of the proper way of treating dancers - talk some sense into them if it were possible. But it was not Inéz’s place to do so.

[greyfiels-blog]

What sorts of services could a club have? He nearly questioned her on that as well, before the most obvious reason came to mind. Immediately, a flush came over his cheeks, and he turned his attention back to the tablet, attempting to disguise this sudden rush of embarrassment.

I’ve never been to this sort of establishment before. Greyfiel’s explanation was short, but at least it might keep her from thinking he was an idiot. At the very least, he might seem like he’d never been to the city - which, outside of the various times he’d had to break from the pack (for one reason or another), was mostly true.

[inez-trejo-blog]

Inéz’s gaze had lingered on the man’s face, waiting for the tell-tale sign of speaking that was sure to occur after her question. However, it never did. And instead she was presented with a tablet, words scrawled tidily across it. Her face only registered a moment of confusion before she chastised herself - told herself not to be rude. “Ah, um. It’s a club, of sorts.” She said, smile slowly returning to her face. 

[greyfiels-blog]

A club of sorts. That wasn’t exactly useful, but why not see what that meant? He hadn’t been to many (read as: any) clubs yet, after all. Is there a price of entry? May as well ask before just barging in. While he could probably get in unnoticed, he did have money; it would be easy enough to pay, unless the fee bordered on ridiculous.

[okayophelia]

Archetypes | GODKILLER

With fists like atom bombs, he walks on the thorny warpath to the heavens, masked in blood and bathed in fire. Beware the man who would kill a god, the choir whispers, for he will never know peace, and he will drag the whole universe into war to keep him merry company along the way. He will stand before the throne, look the void in the eye and laugh. He cannot bear to live in a world where he is not sovereign of his own soul. He would rip his teeth into divine flesh and swallow the universe whole. He wants the apocalypse and the wasteland that will follow in the wake of the gods, that humanity might rise and rise again as their own gods, without sin or fate or fear. And so he rises, knife in hand, to make himself holy and unholy. He has nothing but murder in his mind, nothing but desire in his body, and nothing but truth singing from his tongue. The gods are his prey.

He is every child who ever wanted to hold the universe in the palm of their hand, and every man who wanted to take the throne. He is every woman who tore the kingdom of god apart with her body, and every mortal who stared into the sun and wanted to burn down everything that stood between them and that light. There is nothing left to their story but this: to kill to kill to kill. 

[inez-trejo-blog]

In the background, the Python’s Lair music thudded rhythmically - thud, thud, thud. Even where Inèz stood, near the entrance, half bending over the front desk, she could still almost make out the lyrics. In her mind she pictured the routine one of her girls would be putting on. Her dark eyes flitted over the stranger that stood in front of her. And just who are you? She thought curiously, head tilting in the slightest. “Can I help you?” She asked instead, arching an eyebrow. 

[greyfiels-blog]

This was a place he had not been to before, he was sure. The music was loud, pulsating within his injuries with a hollow sort of feeling - enough for him to sense, but not enough to hurt. Nothing was ever enough to hurt. As he entered the building, taking in all he could see, he was caught by a voice. I suppose you could. What sort of place is this? His words were written neatly upon his tablet, the tip of the pen moving fast as he went.

[rykerwang-blog]

She glanced at the tablet curiously. Did he not speak? Not that it really mattered, but it was something new. “That’s not a good enough reason to say no, is it? If you’ll win, I think it works out either way for both of us.”

[greyfiels-blog]

It might be. Is there any reason in particular you want me to use that knife, or can I choose one of my own? Greyfiel wasn’t about to lose a bet because of a weighted knife, not if he could help it.

[rykerwang-blog]

“Okay, how about we make a bet? If you can land this knife into the wall between those two posters, I’ll buy you a drink.”

[greyfiels-blog]

He cast her a sidelong glance, curious. I’m not sure that’s fair to you. Besides, I don’t drink. The words were quickly written out on a tablet, neat and orderly, before he turned it towards her.