TRUTH IS NOT ADVERTISED.

[santiagc]

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" REPEAT IT. AGAIN. AS MUCH AS I'M FUCKING SICK OF HEARING IT, REPEAT IT. ─── #LEAKN3WS . . . a  headcanon  based  (  canon-corrected )  portrayal  of  nonprofit  media  personality  TRACE   AMENDIARES   SANTIAGO:  conducting   investigations  within  the  CYBERPUNK   universe,  but   extremely fandom  flexible.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⁽ ¹ ⁾ 𝙲𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙳ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⁽ ² ⁾ 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂

EXPLORING THEMES INCLUDING AND BEYOND: NOMADIC CHILDHOODS, LEGENDARY PARENTS CASTING A LARGE SHADOW, LIES LIES AND MORE LIES, AND UNCOVERING THE TRUTH NO MATTER THE COST.

UNIVERSE BLOGROLL ... ³ ROGUE. ⁴ V.

[santiagc]

>> DESCRIBE YOUR MUSE WITH CRAPPY EBAY REVIEWS.

TAGGED BY: @2077smerc TAGGING: mutuals who see this and want to do it. i promise it's very fun.

[2077smerc]

𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗨𝗘𝗗. @santiagc

V  STARED  AT  HIM  FOR  A  SECOND,  THEN  SNORTED.   "TRUST  ME,  TRACE,  I  TRY  PLENTY."   SHE  GLANCED  BACK  AT  HIM,  BROW  RAISED.   THE  CORNER  OF  HER  MOUTH  TWITCHED,  BUT  THERE  WAS  SOMETHING  SOFTER  UNDERNEATH  THE  USUAL  SARCASM.     "NIGHT  CITY’S  FULL  OF  PEOPLE  TRYING  TO  PROVE  THEY’RE  THE  BIGGEST,  BADDEST  THING  WALKING  AROUND.  EVERYONE  WANTS  THE  REPUTATION." SHE  LOOKED  AWAY,  RUBBING  A  THUMB  OVER  HER  KNUCKLES.  "I  JUST  WANNA  MAKE  IT  TO  TOMORROW  WITHOUT  SOME  CORPO,  GANGOON  OR  CYBERPSYCHO  TURNING  ME  INTO  A  CAUTIONARY  TALE."  HER  EXPRESSION  SHIFTED  INTO  A  GRIN. 

"BUT…  THANKS."     THE  ADMISSION  CAME  OUT  MORE  SINCERE  THAN  SHE  PROBABLY  INTENDED,  AND  SHE  IMMEDIATELY  SEEMED  ANNOYED  AT  HERSELF  FOR  IT.   "DON'T  GET  USED  TO  HEARING  THAT.  I'M  NOT  GONNA  START  PUTTING  YOUR  COMPLIMENTS  ON  A  VISION  BOARD  OR  SOME  SHIT. ...ALTHOUGH,  FOR  THE  RECORD  ?   'THE  ONE  TO  KEEP  UP  WITH'  DOES  SOUND  PRETTY  DAMN  GOOD."

[santiagc]

' don' t get used to hearing that ... ' v had said, & if ever the two were to see eye to eye on something ; that would be it. as much as it would be in trace's best interest not to get used to hearing any forms of thanks from v, that same sentiment could be mirrored right back at v ; trace had given the compliment, made his feelings known for the first and probably last time. he may have thought of her as good ( if not one of the best. if not the best ) at the job they tentatively had in common, but would she ever be told so again? not if he had any say in the matter.

" now that the bullshit is out of the way & we're both as buttered up as we're ever gonna get ... can i ask you something ? " the question, though peppered with well practiced sincerity, was rhetorical. v was more than welcome to NOT answer whatever it was trace was priming to jump her with, but permission to ask the question to begin with ? that wasn't the sort of thing he would trouble himself with.

" you're good. maybe the best, we've covered that. and you're all of, what ... twelve years old ? where does someone like you go from here -- what're your plans for the future? assuming you do make it to tomorrow without a corpo, gangoon or cyberpsycho in sight; do you keep climbing to secure that crown, or are you more interested in the blackhand approach, where you put pen to paper and share whatever's going on in that big brain of yours? "

[unlore]

honestly, cross probably wouldn't have understood his objections even if he had voiced them - especially the part that involved any concern for the mistakes they may or may not be making with their life. so perhaps it was for the best that he kept it to himself and, like was so often necessary in life, sucked it up.

as it was, they gave him a blank look, shook their head. " i don't think you should do most of those things. "

not that they were against talking to him, in general, but none of the things he had mentioned seemed particularly likely to come up, in their opinion. it hadn't occurred to them that he wasn't being entirely serious, of course, but that was his own fault for assuming they would figure that out, despite all the evidence. they waited until he seemed ready to receive before rattling off their number for him, helpful as anything.

and then, as though they'd been stewing on it from the moment he had said it:

" you don't really forward spam, right? i didn't think people actually did that. "

[santiagc]

" ... well, cross, what would you have me do? if someone forwards something to me and my life is on the line unless i forward it to you, don't you think it's fair to at least try saving my own ass ? kinda crazy that you'd rather see me dead than open a stupid-and-only-possibly-annoying email. wow. " even as he was speaking trace was trying to decide if it was more or less fun to joke around with someone who didn't actually know the joke was taking place. it felt a little more mean, he knew that much, but F U N ? the jury was out, it could go either way.

" what if we agree to meet half way. i won't send you anything unless i feel like my life could possibly end as a result of not sending it ; and even then you won't be my first choice to send it to, so you have a solid three or four person safety buffer. sound fair ? "

[unlore]

" oh, i'm way better at dropping dead. " she gave him a wink, mimed a tip of a non-existent hat, and grinned as though that was a perfectly normal thing to say. it was funny cos it was true, see - she couldn't settle down even if she wanted to. the whole ... reality of her nature took matters into its own hands if she tried to resist the call, and that shit was just messy. and, quite besides the things that forced her hand, she liked being a nomad. it was in her bones. it was part of who she was.

still. that didn't make it simple. that didn't mean it was always easy. " really, though. i can't stay in one place too long. seeing the same scenery day in, day out is enough to drive anyone to despair. the day i can't keep up with it any more is the day i invite anyone to shoot me. "

[santiagc]

it wasn't comfortable to bring up, to think about, or to acknowledge in any way ; but the truth of the matter was that trace only knew ankhirmaa because of his mother. and as he watched her tip that non-existent hat he was reminded of just why their meeting circumstances were so easy to forget ; ankha was a goddamn nerd in every sense of the word, & such people weren't really who he would ever associate with the woman who'd contributed 50% of his DNA. it was actually unbelievable that the two had ever spoken at all, let alone done anything else.

" how much longer do you think you'll be here? you still have the choice to leave now, aren't too old for it quite yet. i know there's a lot to see in this place, and to most people district-hopping every few years would feel different enough to keep them sane ... but i got'a feelin' that isn't quite the case for you. you need real change, not just a new neighborhood. "

[santiagc]

✨

SEND ✨ TO RECEIVE A 'COMPLIMENT' FROM MY MUSE >> @2077smerc ...

a compliment could still be considered a compliment even if it had to be pulled like an especially stubborn tooth: the words seemingly painful to grind out as trace ( ever the critic to some while being a belligerent supporter of others ) did what he could to make the smile plastered on his face come across as genuine ─ it could easily be noted ( by those who knew him / his family / his history ) that when he smiled with sincerity very little of his parents could be seen in the expression, but when the look was forced ? it was all santiago. the countenance learned. pure nurture as opposed to nature; and it was that look which he was giving v now, honest words which he clearly wasn't all too happy to admit to.

" you'know, v ─ i don't think i've ever seen a merc work quite like you do. this line of work is so . . . it makes people try too hard. they TRY to put in good work, they TRY to stand out, they TRY and TRY and TRY. but you ? doesn't seem like you have to try at all. it's gonna be a bloodbath once everyone realizes you're the one to keep up with, but fuck it ; you're good. "

[contrafictory]

Send ✨ to receive a compliment from my muse!

[santiagc]

consider: interacting with trace 🤔

[santiagc]

remembering that trace exists: ＊*♡( ⁎ᵕᴗᵕ⁎ ）

remembering that he actually exists as a character and i didn't just make him up: ಠoಠ

[unlore]

for a guy who had cautioned her against saying ' it wasn't just one group of people ', trace was remarkably unappreciative of the specificity of her answer. he was the one who had basically asked. but, hey, blahblahblah, whatever. as they tended to say.

" a couple of people, yeah, " she answered. " i mean, there are a couple of people i could call up and they would probably still admit they owed me a favour, you know? and maybe one or two i actually still work with. see. but a lot of people have, kind of, settled down. " time passed fast, from her perspective. people got older, wanted a taste of the quiet life, and here she was. same as ever. trapped in a loop she was never going to escape. " or died. "

[santiagc]

" and when it comes to settling down vs dropping dead, where do you stand on the topic? " from a sane static individual one would prepare to hear that, without question, settling down was the better of the two options - but ankhirmaa wasn't static as far as trace knew ; she may not have belonged to a nation in the ways in which trace was accustomed, but at the end of the day a nomad is nomad, and plenty of them would choose death over a stationary life.

where did trace fall on that spectrum between static & wandering? as in all things, he was the exception; not tied down by the rules which others had chosen to cage themselves with. in other words, he was born with one foot in each world, so making the choice had simply never been a necessity.

[unlore]

cross was impatient enough that the idea of leaving - even with nothing to show for it - was more than welcome. they didn't like waiting much more than he did, truthfully, and it was only the conversation ( and their apparent investment in it ) that kept it from being more of a problem.

still. they stared at trace as though he was stupid for a moment. they were - sort of affiliated with the bar, maybe, if one counted picking up a job here and there to be really an affiliation. but they had to be careful even with that, keeping a low profile as they were supposed to be doing. the question nonetheless seemed stupid, because really, the bar didn't need to come into it one way or the other. there was this amazing thing they had these days, see ...

" i'll just give you my number. " there. simple as, right? it certainly didn't occur to cross that this might be forward in any way, and they would be surprised to discover that it could be taken that way.

[santiagc]

he didn't want that, actually. the number. middle-men existed for a reason, and that reason was to keep a comfortable distance between hiree and hirer. in trace's specific case it was a nice way to keep a buffer zone & solid line between something like bringing cross along for a little field trip ( a little fun, that's all ! damn ! ) and hiring them to potentially end a life if need be.

he wasn't naive. wasn't a dreamer. wasn't all that bothered, usually. wasn't unaware of how the world worked or even innocent of completing such jobs himself ; but, despite it all, there was a part of trace that looked at cross and saw the long stretch of years between the two of them, and the long stretch of life that cross still had to live through - where was he at ... how old were they? younger than thirty, he guessed. he already had a string of mistakes trailing behind him and blood on his hands at that age, as he was sure cross did as well, but that didn't make the idea of being the person to make it worse any more appealing.

but a job was a job, they were both professionals, and at the end of the day ? ... maybe trace just kind of SUCKED.

" well, don't i feel special. and i can use this for non-work purposes, i assume ? late night gab sessions, scheduling lunch dates, forwarding spam, etc ... "

[graveflwers]

WE'D ALL LOVE FOR YOU TO LEARN TO SHUT THE FUCK UP. ha ha ha! muamar couldn't speak without interrupting, and he couldn't interrupt without proving trace's point. so he didn't speak. but he did laugh. which amounted to the same thing: his voice drowning out every other opinion in the room. hahaha. how droll! how perfectly fucking farcical!

for the rest of trace's well-intended and mostly-reasonable speech, he smiled like he was clenching his teeth. which he was.

' oh, that, ' he said when trace was done, gesturing vaguely in the direction of where he assumed the afterlife was in relation to here. ' i’m catholic. we like our dramatic parables. gets the point across. fire and brimstone before the rapture—you know how it is. ' none of that was catholic teaching, but he claimed that it was with the conviction of a sermonizing priest. so it may as well have been, and in that moment it was.

then muamar sighed, which was practically a concession—if not an outright confession. ' look. i’m not trying to make things worse. ' this was true. ' people been through enough. but i’ll tell you what i told her: sometimes a person's gotta dream. you know. keep 'em from blowing their top off. that's all it is, man: a dream. your mom, she's been on the wrong side of a dream before. been on the wrong side of a dream-er. so she looks at me, she thinks: oh, this guy's gonna fuck it up. he's gonna do the same shit. he's gonna drop another bomb, or talk someone else into dropping one. '

' well, i'm not. and i trust you to believe me on that, 'cause we know each other, and i know you know i'm not gonna risk san-domo on a skezzed-out fever dream. ' he leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees. there was defeat in his body that he'd spent their meeting keeping at bay. now it slumped his shoulders. he frowned at the ground between trace's feet. ' it ain't a crime to want somethin' you can't have. i trust you to know that, too. '

[santiagc]

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤthe unflappable? had been thoroughly flapped.

he wasn't angry ( why would be be? ) wasn't sad ( WHY would he be? ) wasn't really any specific word that one could put to an emotion ... save for, perhaps: BOTHERED. trace was bothered not by the way muamar continued to behave, because with his mess of a personality it really wasn't a shock to find him prattling on long after the universe itself was begging for a moment of silence ─ but instead his wave of vexation was spurred ahead by muamar's insistence on brining things that should have long ago been put to rest into the matter when they had absolutely no business being there.

fuck the dream. double fuck the dreamer. triple fuck the woman who believed in both. THAT had nothing to do with THIS.

the rest of what the other had to say went in one ear and out the other. muamar's tone, which was seemingly genuine, may have done him a favor or two a few moments earlier; but they were done now.

" this starts tomorrow. " and just as quickly as he'd made himself comfortable to begin with trace was standing with one metaphorical foot out the door, not interested in or willing to stick around to see what other pointless skeletons muamar was in the mood to dig up. " don't fuck around and it'll be over before you know it. try to enjoy yourself, i have a funny feeling you'll be put through the ringer when you come back, so get some rest while you can. "

[unlore]

it was something that came with practice, perhaps - or with weariness. morality was all well and good, was very important to her in a practical, everyday sense, but when it came to conflicts larger than herself - so, so often, it seemed as though it was all the same in the end. battles raged and ownership was passed between two parties who were functionally indecipherable from one another when you got right down to it, both of them thinking they were utterly in the right and deserving of victory. only very rarely did there seem to be a right side.

especially here, when it came to ultimately petty squabbles between the various gangs of night city. no one was great. everyone had their reasons for thinking they were superior. it didn't fucking matter. ( there were exceptions. there were times she still felt righteous. but most of the time, it was too tiring to care about those sorts of things in any meaningful way. )

" oh, shit ... first time? 6th street, maybe? they were working with some nomads i was tagging along with, wanted as many extra bodies as they could get their hands on. and i'm a warm body, baby. " she jerked her thumb at herself as though to indicate said warm body was up and running right now, right here, in case he was confused. " never really fit in good there, though. didn't last. "

[santiagc]

oh, thank god the miniature weirdo thumbed at herself. he wouldn't have known who she was talking about otherwise! there were so many warm bodies in the world, what ever could have indicated that it was her warm body that was being talked about? surely not the fact that she was the current topic of conversation. surely not.

" i wasn't looking for a specific answer, wouldn't have judged no matter what you said, blahblahblah. whatever ... with that being said out of all the choices you had 6th street is an admirable option ── used to be, at least. do you keep in touch with anyone from that time in your life? you may not have fit in, and it may not have lasted, but maybe one or two relationships stood the test of time? "

[unlore]

cross listens with rapt attention, but doesn't really get it. why would an alleged doctor get a tv show? why would anyone listen to him if he wasn't credible? why would trace, in particular, put any weight behind that guy's words? she frowned at him, very nearly forgetting to consider the actual statement that was the whole point of this explanation in favour of the surrounding contextual mess. almost. this brought them to the issue of what healthy functioning counted as, what kind of goals to pursue would be considered acceptable, and what relationships ... well, something about those too.

it was all very complicated, was the point. cross really needed a minute to think about it, and that was exactly what they took. for a while they just stood there in silence, watching trace with a kind of misplaced intensity. " i don't know. i guess that means i get by okay?"

[santiagc]

a shrug, followed by a nod. " probably. " it was clear that trace was about as qualified to speak on the topic as the maybe-fake-doctor had been, which was to say ; both should have kept their mouths shut. but it wasn't like he was doing any harm. if anything he was acting as a confidence booster, the walking / talking personification of a little social lubricant. cross was getting by perfectly okay, and why shouldn't he say so !

you're welcome, cross.

compared to how long they could have been waiting ( in the grand scheme of things ) the two hadn't really only been on pause for very long. but reasonable wait time or not, he was done. trace had tried to play nice and to wait on things to reveal themselves in an organic manner, and his prize for doing so was nothing more than a reminder of exactly why making your own problems was sometimes the best course of action in his line of work if one wanted to get the information they were after.

" alright. you and your normal self come on, we can go -- this is stupid. " stupid, but not over.

" who do i talk to next time i need to grab you? do you work through - " ( my mommy ? ) " the bar, or what? " it was likely, in trace's mind, that cross was in fact affiliated with the bar in question. it was just as likely, though, that he just so happened to have spotted them there on a random outing and their work had nothing at all to do with that chartreuse-neon hellscape. it was best not to make assumptions.

[unlore]

ankha snorted, his question apparently bringing her great amusement. she gave him a look, all mirth and faint condescension as she explained, " horses and cars did both exist at the same time, you know. it wasn't, like, sudden. " and while ankha certainly had her preferences, she wasn't actively resistant to new technology. she liked to learn. " lotta the people i lived with started using cars or quads to get around. so i learned to work with them. how to fix the basics. mostly just the basics until i got one of my own. "

she shrugged, nodded. " i've been a mercenary for a long time. i usually end up involved sooner or later. " her hands were pretty much constantly dirty, if she thought about. it was rather the nature of things. " mostly it just depends who decides they want me first. got nothing against the other guys, but it's the job. i'm sure i've worked for just about everyone by now."

[santiagc]

there came a time in just about every conversation trace chose to take part in where he had to decide if judgment was on the menu. by nature mercenaries were a group lacking almost completely when it came to loyalty -- but there was something to be said about how it sounded different when laid out in plain language. no right, no wrong, no morality to get in the way ; it all came down to who claimed her services first.

members of his own family were the same way. that's how the job went, so it wasn't as though this information was new or shocking ... but being old news hardly did much to make it any more pleasant. ( and in a way - a small, misguided / misinformed way - trace liked to believe that when it came to his own family, no matter who hired them first, what they chose to do after would come down to what was RIGHT to do. it was a nice way to think of them, even if it was a version of his people which he'd made up entirely within his own head. )

" and when you wound up here? who did you find yourself working for -- and before you say ' it wasn't just one person or group,' duh, i know that. but i'm talking about the first time. who did you have to thank for your first night city payday ... "

[santiagc]

i'm so happy to finally have all of trace's bio and stuff done, but I can't link to his new carrd until the new url is decided on and it's GRINDING my ASS.

[unlore]

it would be in her best interest to nip the whole discussion in the bud, really. the last thing she wanted was to have to genuinely explain - partly because he would never believe her, and partly because rogue would probably kill her if she didn't get to know first. ankha was, however, a little taken in by his poor, boredom-tormented little lamb act, she would have to admit.

she could indulge him just a little bit, so long as he knew he wasn't getting the whole shebang out of her, right? " i dunno. last ten years i've been doing a lot of wandering about. messing about with cars instead of horses. pimping out my ride. " that was a thing that a person could say, and she had certainly just said it. " met a whole load of different groups of nomads across the country. they're always waging their little wars, you know. good eating for a merc. "

[santiagc]

yuck. why did she say that?

" alright, well, how did you go from horses to cars? and by that i mean; who taught you? that can't have been a natural switch to make, someone had to be around to teach you the difference between a hoof and a tire, so ... who was it?" it would be an ok start, far from gripping material but at least she was willing to offer him a crumb or two.

" i'd also like to hear more about these 'little wars' -- " because that wasn't an incredibly patronizing way to have put it. wow. "or i guess about your part in them. did you do more than just know about what was going on? ever get your hands dirty? " the two may have had long standing beef, some real bloodlines shit, without trace even knowing bout it. wouldn't that be silly ?