#borgbutcher

[lucyxnthesky]

❝ running errands for your masters, Smasher? ❞ came the woman's cool quip, disdain lacing her words.

her interest- albeit slightly piqued- was masked well; Lucy's weight shifts to one hip as though waiting for an excuse to leave. she knows nothing really keeps her here, though, and she's aware.

starter for @borgbutcher !!

[cxffeeshxp]

{{ L }} She hadn't even been here two days and the vibes have already went to shit. ".... You try anything funny, Borg, and I'm reducing you to scrap"

A little gift from a certain friend she made, a very VERY angry friend.

[niratias]

@borgbutcher cont.

Mox has done his time screaming. Fashion-savvy synthskin isn't his thing, leaving a litany of gnarly scars woven throughout his chrome. What has had to be cut out and replaced has been for the sake of functionality. For a guy who's still heavily meat, there's no denying the Death Riders leader is an imposing figure in his own right...and aware of his own weight class, too.

There's a reason he's held power for so long, taking the scrappy street gang he joined from small-time annoyance to Northside menace able to hold their territory, hold their own, and wise enough to take a Corpo check when the money can be routed back to serve their needs and service their community.

Weird, fucked up sense of morals in this one and all of his people. Pointless against the machine of the city, sure, but Mox grew up a street rat and has become a king among them. He might as well create avenues for those who aim to be like him to have a shot. Nothing comes cheap- especially not when you're born buried in the debt of your parents.

He finishes his cigarette. Flicks the butt down. Crushes it beneath the carbon composite toe of his boot. His grin is wry. Tired. False. He hasn't slept in nearly forty hours, and he's starting to feel it. He's not so young anymore and it drags at him, like fishhooks tenting skin.

"I'm not so worried about my name." It's nothing. Will fade to nothing, just like him. "More my legacy. That's in the others, you know?" A little lispy, a lot rough. Spend a lifetime taking a beating, it comes for you.

[5urvive]

" STOP PRETENDING YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON. " @borgbutcher

could it be considered pretending if one was confident in only a single aspect of what was going on? hanging onto confidence with tooth and nail, refusing to give up on what she did know, as there was clearly a great deal she could never ( and would never ) be able to wrap her head around.

what rogue knew, what wasn't for show and what was as far from pretending as one could get, was this ; she was, despite all else, still herself. she was inhabiting the same body she'd always known, and within said body lived the same old belief, hope, and fear.

she knew what was right and wrong , and knew that her current situation was WRONG above all else, just as she knew there was no way out of it. she knew that she was being punished ( though she didn't understand why ) and that the luxury of feeling was no longer one that she could afford.

that was what was going on. that was what she knew.

what wasn't known was how the fuck she was supposed to deal with it, and why he ( out of everyone ) had to be the one to ( knowingly or not ) point it out.

boredom and defiance were clear in her gaze as she looked up at the other, shoulders squared as though that meant anything at all when speaking to something someone like him. " it isn't your job to worry about what i do or don't know. fuck off. "

[dreamrcven]

@borgbutcher asked: "Who the fuck are you?"

Unprompted || Always Accepting !!

        ❝ Could ask you the same, Chrome Jock. ❞

   It was certainly a way for a man to introduce himself, if you could    even call this THING a "man". Stepping those imposing feet onto    her property & speaking so plainly to her... Honestly, Night City    dwellers had zero decorum.

   Though, she needn't lower herself to such a level. Even with    such a threatening presence in her warehouse; that head held    high as CRIMSON orbs remained locked with his own, gloved    hands held behind her back in a proper manner, lips pressed    in a thin line behind the mask that obscured her nose & mouth.

   Tch, chromed out gonk wasting space & her time.

        ❝ If you aren't here to conduct business, then I            am going to have to ask you to LEAVE. ❞

[eraba-reta-unmei]

"Who the fuck are you?" // @borgbutcher

" Ah ... ? " Slowly, boredly, does she turn towards the new source of annoyance. " I could ask the same of you. Got a problem, dip shit? "

[piperafterdark]

🎵

send me a🎵and i'll tell you what song i think would fit our muses' ship (no ship required)

In Love With A Dancer - Puddle of Mudd

I don't know where you learned all your secrets All I know is, baby, that you're perfect Lipstick, high heels, leggings, hairspray Bracelet, sunglass, toothbrush, panties

Knee Socks - Arctic Monkeys

When the zeros line up on the 24-hour clock When you know who's callin' even though the number is blocked When you walked around your house wearin' my sky blue Lacoste And your knee socks

[cxffeeshxp]

"Do you actually think those tatoos even look good, dumb ass?" (becca)

{{ L }} "I'm not taking any criticism from sum' 'Borg piece of shit. Fuckin' glorified toaster."