⨠Open the latest section of #cyberpunk 2077 tag and reblog 5 posts of people you donât follow, giving them nice tags.
⨠Tag 5 people to spread the game. @cybervesna @sidver @cybercaffie @scumpatrol@netripper
OC: Franck Lacazette - supposed to be my first playable character for Cyberpunk but the character customisation wasnât up to my bitch ass standards at the time, also, there was no mods to have with. His build focus on shotgun and heavy weaponry, by far the most fun playthrough I have in term of combat.
Lacazette is an overseas security consultant, heâs a member of a non-government paramilitary organization which is based in Belgium and operates mainly in Europe, Africa and America. Lacazette formerly served in the Belgian Armed Force, heâs highly trained in orientation, technical, tactical phase, and an expert at close quarters knife combat.
His name is the combination of two French footballers,Franck RibĂŠry and Alexandre Lacazette.
He speaks 7 languages: French, Spanish, Italian, English, Dutch, Portuguese, German and can understand some Moroccan Arabic. Even when speaking in English he still finished his sentence with âhĂŠâ or âheinâ.
He has a Bachelor Degree in Medieval History focusing on Weaponry and Armour, he will mostly speak of the 15th century and into the 16th, since that is his own period of specialization.
Lacazette once join a hunt for narwhal off the coast of Norway when he was 17 years old, joined the butchering and ate the meat as well, he describe the flesh as âpungent oily rubber that make you crave for konijn met pruimenâ Great experience but clearly not a favourite.
Every colour and every taste
Every breath that whispers your name
It's like emeralds on the pavement
(I got your honey, baby)
At the heart of some kind of flower
Stuck in glitter, strands of saliva
Won't you get me right where the hurt is?
Robyn, "Honey"
I am at a loss for wordsâmetaphorically at a loss of course, as I am nothing if not a writer. I cried once before when I received a commission (this incredible piece of Val by khymeira), which incidentally was a year ago yesterday; and now today when I was blessed by this gorgeous piece.
More blubbering (and WIP Wednesday) under the cut.
For background on my request, I gave Sidver a bit of my corpo!Val story, the part where things officially go off the rails in the plan, where these two friends who are faking being in love accidentally cross a line, then deliberately cross it once more.
This picture isn't worth 1000 words. It's value is infinite. It would (will) take thousands upon thousands of words to tell this storyâthe way Mitch cradles her head, and the tentative possession with his other hand; how Val holds his face, caressing his scar; the way they stand together, uncertain but longing; god, the emotionsssss. Sidver took a few paragraphs of words and turned it into real art.
And now I'm going to make this long post even longer by shamelessly adding on my writing since beloved @starsandskies tagged me for WIP Wednesday; only gonna tag @ravenstrange for reasons*. Please forgive the indulgence and have ~500 of the thousands of words that I need to write to live up to this incredible picture Sidver painted.
âLong day,â Mitch says.
Rather than answer, Val leans her head against his shoulder. This casual intimacy catches in his throat. He knows he should stop it, that itâs only going to make things worse when itâs time to stop pretending and return to the family; but he canât, doesnât want to. Instead he wraps his cybernetic arm around her, his hand on her shoulder, and she leans into him and sighs again. He skims his hand up and down her bicep, tracing his fingers along the lean muscle before returning them to her shoulder and squeezing gently. She shivers beside him.
âCold? Want my jacket?â
With a shake of her head, Val smiles up at him and his heart skips a beat. âThanks.â
Silence falls between them once more. Mitch finishes his cigarette then stubs it out and flicks it into the darkness below. He wishes he could bottle this feeling and carry it back to camp with him, this comforting shared quiet. Without conscious thought Mitch turns his head and presses his lips to her forehead. He breathes deep, inhaling the unassuming scent of her shampoo. As soon as Val shifts he knows he made a mistake, and then she brings her emerald eyes up to his face.
Heâs been captivated before by the white ring surrounding the green pupil, but heâs never before noticed the brown spikes that ring the iris, just like his ownâcentral heterochromia, he remembers, though how he can think at all while sheâs looking up at him like this is beyond him. As she studies his face her eyebrows draw together, a tiny line appearing between them. He canât read her expression but itâs her, not the corpo, and his chest squeezes even tighter, the breaths harder to draw.Â
Her eyes drop to his lips and her own lips part before she raises her gaze back to his, the tip of her tongue peeking out as she tilts her face to him. Blood roaring in his ears, Mitch knows itâs a lapse in judgment from the drink, from the look in her eyes when he tips his chin down and brings them closer together. Val closes the distance, pressing her soft lips against his in a hesitant kiss. After a moment she pulls back, searches his eyes while her fingers linger on his skin. She still is letting him in, even if he doesnât know what heâs seeing.Â
âVal,â Mitch murmurs, part warning, part affirmation.Â
Her name on his lips makes her breath come faster and her hand moves to the back of his neck, pulling him down to her once more. His head spins as she deepens the kiss. Heâs lost now, falling backward into the abyss and sinking into darkness, and he doesnât care. His cybernetic fingers slide up her shoulder to twine in the hair at the back of her neck, searching for anything to ground him.
*ď¸âŁ Raven, you've been an awesome friend, and I can't overstate how much better you made my life when you put the seed for this ridiculous thing in my head.
