So I was playing around with a template for my OC for my Mystic Messenger FanFic and got it kind of done... I hope to have a full body of her someday.
Her name is pronounced Cali (like California), parents just had to be unique with the spelling, though she does have similarities to the Hindu goddess.
I went through and made the sword image transparent and now have even more respect for my tattoo artist. That thing is a bitch and he did a really good job on my arm.
The template was created by Avistella! The Inquisition Logo was lethalchris.
Okay, so. I told myself I wasn’t going to write another fic because I don’t have the time. But here we are.
I watched episode 3 earlier today (“In A Lonely Place”) and this fic just decided to pour out of me. Yes, there will be multiple parts. It’s following a similar storyline, but a few details will be altered (no pun intended).
That being said, welcome to yet another fic of mine. Altered Carbon style.
Don’t forget to let me know what you think! I love feedback especially on a world as new as AC <3
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Words: 1,599
Summary: Set in episode 3. Replace the dealer with Nym and there you go. She has a lot of secrets to be found out later.
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Nym Rolark is a longtime friend to Vernon Elliot. She’s who he goes to when he needs any…well, “hardware” as Kovacs put it.
But what Elliot fails to mention to Kovacs is just how feisty this Nym is.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Elliot?” Is the first thing that comes out of her mouth. Kovacs’s smirk doesn’t go unnoticed, but she doesn’t verbally acknowledge him just yet. “I told you to call before you come over.”
“I know,” Elliot admits, a hint of apology in his tone. “But this is kind of last minute.”
“My least favorite phrase,” Nym comments, turning around to cross her arms over her chest. “And I don’t do favors for anyone, so who the hell is this guy?”
“Takeshi Kovacs,” the man in question answers, still smirking. It’s annoying. It makes Nym want to slap it right off his face.
“The Envoy?” She replies with disinterest, then looking to Elliot. “Why did you bring him here?”
“I need some hardware,” Kovacs answers for himself. “Lethal kind.”
“I don’t own anything that’s not lethal,” she deadpans, turning back to Elliot. “Who’s paying?”
“I am,” Kovacs answers again, getting a little irritated himself that she won’t speak directly to him.
“Of course you are,” Nym rolls her eyes. “What’s your price?”
He shrugs his shoulders, but not in the nonchalant way. In the arrogant way. “Whatever it takes.”
Christ, she thinks, the quicker we get this over with, the better. “Fine. Right this way.”
She leads the two men – one friend, one…enemy, or what she isn’t sure just yet – down the hallway to her basement door. She knocks twice, mostly out of habit, before shoving the door open, flicking the light on. She doesn’t bother looking back to see if they’re following, trusting that Elliot is either leading the way or Kovacs is fast enough to keep up with her.
She hears two sets of footsteps, though, so the former must be true.
When she reaches the hardware room, she bends down to lift the garage door up, flicking these lights on as well.
“These are the classics,” she announces, a little annoyed that she has to, but since the Envoy is new, she does. She moves over to a locked vault, scanning her hand before saying, “These are the new additions – they’re expensive.”
“I’ll take your best.”
“That’s subjective,” Nym fires back, gesturing to the classics. “Those are my favorite, therefore my best.”
Kovacs smirks. “What’ll do the most damage?”
“That depends on the person.”
Elliot glances between them tiredly. “Listen, you said you need this stuff now. Can you stop picking a fight for five goddamn seconds so we can get your shit?”
Kovacs gives the man a look, wondering where in the hell that came from – and why Elliot thinks he can speak to Kovacs like that all of the sudden – but all it takes is one look at Nym to see.
The Elliot family have been more of a family to Nym than her own family has. And that’s all Kovacs can tell. But that alone, in combination with Nym’s attitude, is enough to make him back off.
“Ingram 40 flechette,” Nym holds up what, despite her previous comments, is arguably her favorite of the more advanced weapons.
“There we go.”
“Prototype?” Kovacs asks.
Nym doesn’t hear any malicious intent behind his words, but her comment comes before she can register that. “Who do you think I am?”
And Kovacs’s reply is just as quick. “Someone who really has an issue with people like me.”
“With strangers,” she corrects him, then nodding and muttering, “You’re one to talk.”
“Seriously?” Elliot nearly groans.
“CTAC R and D,” Nym continues, picking back up on the real conversation at hand. “Uses flanged armor-piercing rounds. Ten-round clip. Homing tech onboard.” She watches as Kovacs – the dumbass, she thinks – places his hand at the bottom, causing her to offer a warning. “Don’t put your hand there.”
He almost looks offended. “Why?” And when she reaches to grab the gun, he pulls it back.
She sighs. “Do you want me to show you or would you rather me let you learn the hard way?”
That arrogant smirk crosses his lips again before he gives in, handing the gun over. Nym doesn’t miss a single beat before saying, “Watch your head,” to which Elliot ducks as she fires the gun at the wall. Kovacs raises his eyebrows at the bullet lodged a few inches into the solid concrete. “Stay down,” she instructs when she sees Elliot beginning to stand. She presses the second button, the bullet flinging itself back to the gun.
“That’s why,” Nym explains, wanting to add dumbass at the end, but deciding against it. “Reverse the field generator, the flechette homes through a plasma chamber, autoloads right into the mag.”
“Is that new?” Elliot asks, his fingers grazing the bullet hole in a daze.
“New to me,” Nym smirks. “Got a pair of them last week.”
“I’ll take one,” Kovacs speaks up, bringing the attention back to him – he has a habit of that, she thinks.
“Alright,” she nods, handing him the gun while eyeing what he already has in his hand. “Is that custom?”
Kovacs glances at the weapon in his hand before shrugging, this time in the I don’t know way.
“You mind?”
He hands it over without a fight, or a sarcastic comment, surprisingly. “Modified second series Nemex?” Nym asks in shock. “Where did you get this?” She doesn’t even have one here.
“From a guy who doesn’t need it anymore.”
“Fair enough,” she nods, handing it back. “That’s where half my inventory comes from.”
“And the other half?”
“You don’t need to know.”
Kovacs smirks again. “You got any blades?”
“Do I got any blades?” She replies, rolling her eyes. “Come this way.”
She tips the box lid, revealing her vast array of knives. She’s collected these the longest, so she has a larger selection.
“Tebbit knife. Tantalum steel alloy blade. Flint in the pommel for weighting.”
Nym smiles proudly at Elliot.
“Bioweapon coating?” Is Kovacs’s only question.
“Runnel’s coated with Reaper,” Nym answers easily, handing him the knife. It’s her favorite of the blades. Her personal choice in combat. “Betathanatine.”
“Shit scientists cooked up to study near-death experience,” Elliot adds.
“Deeper you stab, the more dose you get.”
“Ring it up. Plus whatever he wants,” Kovacs nods toward Elliot.
“I already know what he wants,” Nym rolls her eyes, heading back to the main room. “Sunjet 2320?”
“You already know,” Elliot calls after her. “Classics never go out of style.”
“You know it,” Nym agrees, placing the Sunjet on the counter. “Is that all?”
Kovacs nods. “I think so.”
She holds out the DNA scanner with a tired look. And when Kovacs makes no move to walk over, she sighs. “Either you pay or I keep the stuff. Your choice.”
He smirks again, the arrogant kind as he practically waltzes over, taking his sweet ass time before placing his thumb on the scanner. The screen goes from orange to green, bringing a smile to Nym’s face.
“Pleasure doing business with you.”
That smirk stays on his face as he gathers the weapons and stuffs them inside a…pink Hello Unicorn back pack.
“Seriously?”
“What?” Kovacs raises his eyebrows, teasing before bringing the bag up and kissing it.
“Nothing,” Nym shakes her head, accepting Elliot’s side hug. “Can I ask why you need all this shit?”
Elliot furrows his eyebrows. “You never do.”
“Well, you’re not normally bringing strangers in here,” she reminds him, shooting Kovacs a glance. “Let alone an Envoy looking into Bancroft’s death.”
“Well, Bancroft’s only been murdered once.”
The glance Nym sends Kovacs turns heated. “You don’t believe he killed himself, huh?” Everyone seems to think the ass was murdered. Everyone except Nym. And the police, apparently, because they couldn’t find any evidence of a murder. Just of a suicide.
He shrugs. And doesn’t say another word.
“Seriously, Elliot, why are you friends with him?”
“Not friends,” Elliot clarifies quickly, sensing Kovacs is almost on the way to commenting about it, too. He looks to Nym, squeezing her in the hug a little tighter. “He’s helping Lizzie.”
Immediately, Nym’s expression changes. “How?”
Elliot explains everything, and explains his original reluctance to let any of it happen, but Nym understands. She knows he’ll do anything for Lizzie. Because Nym would too.
“How much is it costing? I can help, you know I—”
“Actually, Kovacs is covering it.”
“Oh,” Nym nods, giving Kovacs a more respectful nod this time. “Well thank you.”
“Technically, Bancroft is covering it,” Kovacs clarifies. “It’s just on the tab.”
Nym nearly rolls her eyes. He’s got Meth money and suddenly he doesn’t know how to handle himself. That’s what normally happens when you get your hands on that amount of money. Nym saw it firsthand in her own family.
“Well,” she sighs, patting Elliot’s back. “I’ve got somewhere to be, so, not to be rude—” She pauses to glare at the Envoy when she hears him snicker. “—but get the hell outta here.”
“Us too,” Elliot chuckles. “You have fun.”
“And you be careful,” she punches Elliot’s shoulder. “I mean it.”
“I will.”
“What about me?” Kovacs speaks up, completely ruining the moment.
“Don’t take this personally,” Nym smirks, “but I think you can handle yourself, Envoy.”
He smirks in return, and Nym swears she hears a chuckle come from his chest, but she isn’t sure.
She’s only spent half an hour with him, but Nym can’t figure out Takeshi Kovacs.
{Why are you here...You don’t belong in their world. Or is it that small ray of hope that is in you is telling you other wise? You know what you’ve done, you know what you lost to be at this point....Why not leave. They seem well fine with their chaos. Leave...Just leave...that’s all you have to do.}
{Maybe a little...push will help you move. You heartless shadow....}
