“A walking talking yin yang made of ex-arasaka gentleman and corporate bitch, both falling from the very top to bottom in matter of seconds, losing everything but not a thirst for revenge. At least that was the first reason that wired the connection between the two once the ex bodyguard Takemura tracked relentless killer mercenary shaped in a woman slim body accompanied by a long braid swinging like a decorative curtain from almost top of her head, revealing tattoos scattered around her neck - with thorns and roses, raising up the the sides, forming a knife on the right and golden diamond on left.
Even if most people were calling her by merc work “V”, deep in her trusted social circle she was going by her real surname - Feit and only very few special ones knew her real name. After being pushed back by the corporation, down face to the cold, rough concrete streets she took it all in, even moving away from her old apartment to leave the past behind and breath deeply in her lungs the cheap perfume and booze stench of Jig-Jig street, her new home, beside the good old Wakako appreciated her talents and slightly evil nature to the point she got her new nest rent free and Tiger Claws “security assurance”, not like she was having any trouble finding the same language with them. As long as eddies and reputation behind the red curtain of blood was flowing all was good. The only weakness she had was her strong urge of following orders, having a boss to strike her out with a knife towards next target. Feit drew deep feeling of satisfaction from making her fixer proud, same like it was with Jenkins. Afraid of failing again, ending up alone and useless was still her biggest fear, especially now that she is alone, surrounded only by the Wakako’s gang from time to time.
Booze was her most trusted companion after the hours, at the usual bar nearby strip club, barman already knew when she comes and where she sits, just bringing her usual without any questions as she patted the table with the palm of her hand. But that evening her routine got disrupted by the figure of a mature man with black hair greyed on edges pulled back into a bun, a pair of bright lenses shining from the shadows with curiosity, wearing a long black coat and white perfectly shaped shirt under, calling her name in a gentle manner and apologizing for disturbance.
Takemura could hardly believe that someone like her was the “best bloodthirsty merc that cheated the death itself” barely making any difference from the colorful crowd of “local” girls but not like he had any other choice and tracking her down took him a good while since their phoneline was hanging long enough after first meeting. She wasn’t the brightest gal but noticing smallest details was automated in her routine, standing up abruptly from her chair once the corner of her amber eye tracked his neck cybernetics and blinking arasaka sign on it. Her mouth opened to almost deliver a solid “fuck you” but reminding herself how their last meeting went she calmed down. Being assured by his manners and explanation that he only means biz, very serious one this round also helped to not end up with a fist in his throat. He saved her from that stinky ass garbage, the sights of his gaze, looking down upon her when she was gathering her strength back. It was enough to stop her hand from pulling up a knife. Trust wasn’t something she allowed to slip easily in her line of work, neither life for this moment, losing too much already. She sighted deeply and bowed, offering him a sit. Even if her nature was impulsive and was throwing words on wind along with swears, with a figure like him her respect and manners still remained, at the very least on basic level. He deserved it, especially for all the mocking he had to endure as they sat next to each other on bar stools, eyes of the others leaning towards them.
She silenced him, raising the palm of her hand, reveling a tiger claws tattoo implant. Finishing her last shot and brushing away the very last remains of the golden sparkling lipstick as she ran her fingers through the lips to slip away a booze droplets. He looked away, couching softly. Talking back about Konpeki Plaza events and the fact the Takemura was a fairly wanted man right now didn’t make the bar a best place to continue this discussion. He nodded in agreement and followed her deep into one of streets where they could continue without additional pairs of ears trying to sneak on them. The golden coat of hers was reflecting the neons, almost blinding him as it sparkled occasionally. Some of her corpo class still reflected in her clothing, reveling a pair of office expensive black long pants and heeled wedges, black as well, supporting her feet onto the golden modern platforms and making them both even in terms of height. Something also pointed a bitch part about her, was it the way she strutted and leaned against the wall, bending her knee upwards, crossing her arms on the black ornamental bustier and giving him an inpatient look, wanting to skip a tiny details for this moment and just hit her with what he wants and expects from her. He brushed his hands and looked to the side, pausing but coming shortly back to her with his bright eyes and thirst screaming readiness.
