Bitter, thick, hot, and chemical.
That's the closest I can get to describing the burning sludge that passes for alcohol in the dim cluttered booths of the Dead Drunk. Nearly choking as Bexās laughter rises like clanging iron over their neon sullen face.
āI mean it kinda is.ā He sneers it with a chittering Chalicerae smile. āCorpo-kid can't take his liquor." As my muscles tense, sinking deeper into my third-hand corduroy jacket.
āI can drink you under any day.ā With a puff I blow a strand of silver-blond hair out of my face, pointed ears twitching in the dull cacophony of the old bar. Laughter and conversations warping into a ringing drone. Finger servos twitch. I down another shot. āIām just a fan of drinking shit that doesn't taste like week old automaton piss.ā
Bex slicks back his bright pink hair, thin fingers tapping his chipped whisky glass. āHey . . . Cass . . . I donāt actually think youāre a corporate brat . . . yāknow.ā Regret or pity slipping his sharp featured grimace in the dim violet. Either way, it left a sour taste on my bloodied tongue. As I bit into it. Trying anything not to just . . . dwell on them. Why I left. What they did to he-him.
āDoesnt matter . . . it's what everyone thinks.ā
āYou can't blame Yuji and the guys . . . you signed up at a quirk time.ā
āHoly Hatsune.ā I growl over the faint shouting behind our booth, back near the entrance. āNot every blonde Nekāā
I freeze, my words falling like a blackout in June, dead in my mouth. As dead as the sunglasses and half-pulped flesh that was once the bouncer. I mean he was a right asshole, but the pool of still warm red and ripped out wires . . . is more along my line of work than his is. . . was.
Sickly yellow eyes peer between falling strands of dark violet, illuminated in the grim neon of the street outside. A pretty face, marred my wolfish jaws . . . and only wearing a leather jacket, I can just barely make out an eye tatted onto her greyish skin between her breasts . . . DON'T LOOK AT THOSE. FOCUS ON THE DRIPPING VISCERA. YOU GAY IDā STRAIGHT IDIOT. YOU'RE A BOY, DUMBASS. NOT THE TIME. UGH.
I agree. That's what we, and the whole bar will be soon.
āCici~.ā Her voice growls, honey and shrapnel. āCouldnt get near you after they sold me off. But then little birdy left her gilded cage.ā Her smile widens, as she lunges, and I can almost swear she is looking at me . . . talking to me . . . from across a scene of scrambling patrons. Burnouts, riot-bitches, and gutter-punks with more sense than me or my drinking companion. As with the ringing note of drawn steel, another arm goes flying and blood splatters across my face.
I don't argue with the voice fizzling somewhere between my calloused palm and overlocked brain. I ignore Bexās yelp, and like a coward, like a survivor, I run.
Warm bodies, tight leather, blood, and sweets. A half-drunk swarm cramming out the back door, bone snapping, and someone screaming. But squelches the sound of something worse, wrenching flesh and chipper chat notifications ringing across the room. Getting ever closer, even as a could foolish manticore boys, sacrifice their flesh in the folly of taking down a corpo-pet.
New Tokyorkās night air graces my face, cold and dry as the desert sands far below spires of neon, stone, and glass . . . as sharp claws grip into my left wrist, and yank.
āWhere are you going?ā Hot breath on my neck, her voice becomes . . . all too familiar. Flesh tears, and I let go, as my arm pops free from my shoulder socket. It only bleeds a little . . but fuck it hurts. Haptic feedback, alarms blaring on out of state sensors, as I am half-stimble, half run, down the alleyway.
Her eyes sharpen, and I grin. Fuck Iām gonna die. At least a pretty girlās doing it. I twitch my arm, as I feel a biomechanical tension release. It's almost orgasmic, as I twist around, and press my palm against her . . . warmā¦ plush thigh. And let go.
Sharpened bone rips through soft synthetic flesh, as the dark opalescent blade of her katana slices through my shoulder. Silver-gold threads and deep red droplets dancing in the bubblegum glow.
I wince, as she yanks my braid, and tosses me back. Cold concrete and splintering storage crates. āNow viewers, it's time for a reunion.ā She grins, somehow even wider. āOur squad is one member down, so . . . I figured who better to recruit than this cutie. And Ms Kuro was very supportive.ā I gasp. I wince. Every breath aches, as my spine threatens collapse. And there she is, limping, but standing tall, muscles rippling. Looking down on me, half illuminated. A stitched together face, made both feral and feminine, but unmistakably hiā hers.
And her soft breasts and erect glistening cock are giving me . . . mixed and unwanted feelings I don't have time to analyze.
āIt's Ylva now.ā Hardly wincing as my bone blade sinks into her. āIām sure you've seen me on the Scister streams.ā Katanaās edge pulsates with psychic synchronicity, as she straddles me. My own bone sword fills with warmth. Guts and blood spilling. Somehow not enough to lessen her terrifying erection.
āNāNoā¦ā I stutter, words like bitter lead, in a turmoil of fear, guilt, hate and something I dont wanna name.
āOh?ā Drool and blood drips onto my face, as her sword pushes a hairs breadth harder. āDid little kitty sis get off to big bad sisās videos? Naughty girl~ā A camera drone chirps with notifications somewhere above us. And I try not to think about a folder of videos I watched in perverse guilt between gigs. Knotted rope, knotted cock, and gasping breaths . . . as my older sisterās hands wrap around the throat of a pretty girl anā
āNo, it was your music.ā Not a complete lie. She is good at bass guitar. āAlso Im not a girl and YOU'RE TRYING TO KILāā
Syrupy, metallic, and sour, like Neonā¢ soda.
Long lapping tongue and sharp teeth.
She's kissing me. My estranged big sister who became a chimera girl . . . is kissing me. On stream.
āAwww babe.ā Her tongue worms its way out of my throat as I choke, and my hips annoyingly squirm. āIf I wanted to kill you, youād be dead.ā
āThen whāā I whimper.
āCause you're mine Cici.ā Her eyes glinting as she snaps my sword in half, and pulls it from her stomach. Dark hair falling from her ponytail and against my burning cheeks, as I begin to shake. Before shifting her grip on me . . . something wet and hard . . . and lubed by blood . . . pressing against my shorts. āAnd Iāll take whatever excuse this shithole city gives me to have you.ā My cyberware shudders.
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