hΛϾКΞÐ hΞΛЯt ʲᵃᶜᵉ ˣ ᵇᵘᶰᶰʸ ⓃⓈⒻⓌ

[Bunny]

​

---

Daytime in Night City was not a pretty picture. The light seemed to illuminate the grime in a way that made her stomach turn. Circe hated going out period, but during the warm wash of the day star through the haze of the city? Yeah. No. Yet she didn’t have much choice. Daylight makes people feel safer. As if you wouldn’t be abducted in the middle of the day, surrounded by people who could give two fucks. It stemmed from something primeval, Circe knew that. In the darkness is where the monsters lurked. Snorting softly she made her way to the drop off.

Circe was a hacker. Not any hacker either, for most in Night city could boast some sort of skill in that arena. Circe was one of the top three hackers in the city. What did that mean? Well it meant that no one knew who she was, not really. They knew of her, but most, if not all of her clients thought she was a guy. Circe did nothing to dissuade that idea. It helped her stay under the radar of well.. Everyone. The NCPD, gangs, corps.. You name it. She wanted nothing to do with any of them and more than that, she never wanted to be owned. That is what those organizations did. They picked up talent like picking flowers and placed them in their own little garden of amusements. Not Circe.

As she walked, Circe toyed with a small handheld device. It looked like a cell phone of old. Her fingers were busy playing across the screen. While it looked like fidgeting, Circe was busy hacking. What, one might have wondered? Everything. Every piece of equipment in the small bubble in which she walked. No one would ever see her face. She didn’t even blank it, that would be far too obvious. Track the blur. Any idiot could have done that. No, she shifted her appearance slightly and when in a crowd, she came out someone completely different. Not that many would have paid attention to the tiny female dressed head to toe in black.

Some girls in Night City wanted to be seen. They dressed like dayglo candy, begging to be unwrapped. Not Circe. Her hood was always up, the black fabric hiding her face from view. Her black orange of her hair was braided tightly and the long tail was coiled in the hood. The hoodie itself was baggy. She wasn’t exactly a pornstar, but she didn’t want anyone looking at her. The same for her baggy black pants. They actually made her tiny frame seem smaller. She’d always wanted to be taller as a kid, but at twenty-one, she was perfectly happy at being smaller. Why look at her, when the dayglo slut was showing off everything?

--

Night was finally falling and Circe relaxed some. Daylight made things harder. In the neon glow of the night, shadows ruled. Taking her stairs two at a time, she made her way to her pitiful little apartment. Circe could have had it all. Lived like a princess in Night City. She could have sold her soul to a corp and lived the high life. She could have, but she’d never wanted that life. There was beauty in her freedom. She was allowed to pick and choose her clients. Some of her work was charity. Some of it was for bad men, doing worse things. She didn’t really care as long as the eddies were good. Circe had rules of course. No kids. Period. The other one was don’t fuck with anyone too high up. She could avoid them, if she knew. But people with money tended to get pissy when you fucked with them. Weird, right? Normally she did her due diligence. It was how she kept herself safe. Kept herself free. It was unlikely anyone would kill her. They’d collar her. Put implants in her. Control her.

--

Stretching, Circe yawned, the black shirt riding up high on her stomach, flexing a long line of pale skin. Flawless, unless you counted the ink. Circe had never allowed a single piece of cybernetics to be put in her body, but she had decorated herself instead with ink.

She’d never stuck with one style. The back of her neck supported a bold, geometric design that reminded her of circuits. The lines ran into her hairline, hidden under the thick waves of black and orange. From the small of her back was something far more close to the old henna designs, delicate as it rose to meet the bold lines of her neck piece. The soft, chained ink lines stopped at the swell of her ass cheeks. Along her right ribs was a design of hexagons and space, the colors bold, vivid. On her right hand was another henna like design. The lines were more geometric than soft and delicate. Bold. Under the perky fall of her breasts was something softer. A pair of roses rested between her breasts, and under her breasts little lace was inked into her milky skin, with chains falling from it. Her left arm sported more flowers, the tattoo more like watercolors as it trailed from her shoulder to wrist. The last tattoo covered the eternity of her right leg. This tattoo was far more traditional. Roses, skulls, eyes, snakes.. It had it all.

Sitting up right, she curled her legs underneath her. The baggy pants had been switched for a pair of comfy shorts. Her legs were left bare. Music began to play from her computer. It was maybe this music that obscured the noises of the men coming up the stairs. She didn’t have security, fully confident no one could track her. Fucking with the cameras though didn’t mean that good old fashioned stakeouts wouldn’t work. If you wanted to find Circe you only needed to make the effort.

The door shattering inwards though made her jump and as she pun around she had a moment of seeing guns and far too many men. That however didn’t stop her hands from moving. She hacked quickly, her fingers flying over the keyboard before her. Her back to them. Two dropped, unconscious. She was working on a third, their shouting not dissuading her. A hand fisted in her hair and yanked, her fingers finished one last flurry of movement and she smiled, smug even now as she heard a body hit the floor and then there was nothing.

---

#d77038
#696969

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

Most people thought of Night City as a triangle of power. You had the NCPD, doing their best to keep things peaceful. The Corps had their private armies and ran things official. Then, you had the gangs, who ran around the streets spilling blood. Bullshit.

Corps owned half the NCPD and a third of the gangs. Everyone was crooked and looking for their cut. So, who said you had to pick? Why not just run your own gang? Have a Corpo funded goon squad at your beck and call. That was where Haywire came in. On the surface, Haywire was legit. They had their own line of cars, a heavy share of the cybernetics market, and a dozen other side projects. Mayday Parade, on the other hand, was a group of maniacs who roamed the streets. They broke into stores, stole whatever they could get their hands on, and destroyed everything else.

The big secret, more of an open secret, was that Haywire and Mayday Parade were two halves of the same business. Most people had no idea, of course. Once you to the street level, there were so many layers of money and tech being moved around that you could never find the top. Only the elite, the leadership, knew that the same two men were at the top of both of both.

Jester, real name Clarence, ran Mayday. He was known for being ruthless, leaving a trail of bodies behind whenever he needed something. That same attitude let him make the calls in Haywire that needed to be made. He was the one who sent people their pink slips, and the one who made sure they never made it to their car on the way out. He was the reason that their competitors had strings of break-ins, lost executives in the wilderness of the NC nights.

Jackson, real name Jackson, was the other head of the hydra. He was in charge of the big picture at Haywire. Recently, he had little to do in the way of management, but over the last few years, Jackson had grown a small cybernetics company into a multi-industry giant. He was also the reason Mayday always seemed to have the best guns, the newest tech. Together, they carved out a big chunk of Night City and the rumor was that they planned to start expanding.

----

Jester was pacing back and forth in the office when the door opened. His guys, or were these Jackson's? Either way, they were carrying a suspiciously tiny bundle in. He sighed and stretched the back of his head with the butt of his pistol. He had not managed to set it down for what felt like hours. Who knew what would happen?

"Fucking hell. Did you morons kill him? I swear, if you pour out a pile of body parts in the carpet, I'll kill you."

The office was roughly the size of your average apartment. One wall was completely converted into an aquarium, a dozen different colors of fish drifting lazily about. They were clearly unconcerned with today's events. The floor was mostly dominated by a garish white and black checkered rug. Underneath, visible at the edges of the room, was lovely hardwood. Real wood. The corner contained a little waiting area, a circle or chairs and a couch around a small table. In the middle of the back wall was the desk. Jester was currently pacing in front of said desk and, covered by a blanket and sweating visibly, was Jackson, laid out on the desk.

"Nah, Jester, sir. She ain't even hurt. We know you need her safe."

The two men, more cybernetics than flesh, set the bundle down on the floor. One untied the bottom while the other pulled out a long blade from his belt, cutting plastic ties that held the top. Together, they pulled the fabric and the bundle unrolled, quite roughly, into a young woman. She was covered in tattoos and wearing a black hoodie and shorts. Her face, though, was covered by a black bag. A moment later, this too was pulled off, a cascade of orange and black hair spilling out in a big mess.

"You're kidding. You mean this is the hacker? You said she took three of you down. Do you work for me? Because if you do, you are so fucking fired."

This time, the other man spoke up.

"It's her, boss. We found her deck and a ton of other stuff sitting out. The three guys she knocked out were running serious military shit, too. Definitely got the right girl."

Jester let out a long sigh and looked like he was going to argue more until a loud groan of agony came from behind him. His expression shifted and he tightened his fingers on the gun. With the bag off, Circe could now see the half of Hay-Day as he walked over. Wearing nothing but black slacls, Jester was a tapestry of the macabre. His chest was dominated by a skull tattoo, stretching into a dozen other black and grey designs on his shoulders and spreading down his arms. He was a canvas of a single artist and it showed. If one looked close, you could see the glossy gleam of his circuits, disguised by the tattoos until they reached the sides of his neck. There, they split off and ended with two small circles behind each ear.

He crouched over Circe, the pistol hanging loose in his grip. With a casual flick of the wrist, Jester used the barrel to push Circe over and onto her back. He raised his chin to the two men, who picked the girl up onto her rear, leaving her in a sitting position. A quick snikt sound of a knife and her wrists were free too.

"Listen up. I know your reputation. You don't take big jobs, you don't fuck with people's families. You do a bunch of do-good shit. So, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt. I didn't kill you."

Jester once again tilted his head, this time pointing toward the desk and the writhing man on top of it.

"I don't know if it was an accident or a mistake, but you put a nasty bit of malware in my brother's gear. Problem is, his keeps his heart pumping. So, I'll keep it short."

Jester took the pistol and pressed the barrel to Circe's forehead, pushing hard enough that she would have to push back to not tilt backward.

"You are going to fix it right now. If you don't, I'll kill you. If my brother dies, I'll kill everyone you have so much as said hello to in the last two weeks. Got it? Get started."

 

[Bunny]

She came to as they transported her. Hands and feet bound tightly one infrot, the other behind. A bag over her head, dark colored and smelling a bit like plastic. Didn’t they know that was a safety hazard? Idiots. There was something else too, had these fuckers wrapped her like a dead body????? Was it for convenience sake? Planning ahead? Who the fuck knew.

She didn’t bother making damsel in distress demands. Let me go! You don’t have to do this! On some level Circe knew that this would happen someday. Probably. Maybe? She’d prepared at least. Mentally. There was very little a four eleven female who weighed a buck twenty at best could contend with goons of well.. Any sort. Okay, that was a lie, she’d taken three of them down, even that hadn’t been enough. It had been hella satisfying though.

So Circe didn’t talk, didn’t fight as the vehicle came to a stop and she was pulled roughly from the inside and cradled almost bridal style. It robbed her of more of her senses. All she could feel was the heat of the man carrying her and the rhythmic movement of his body. If there were stairs, she couldn’t tell. It wasn’t as if Circe made a habit of getting herself kidnapped.

She heard a voice, though muffled she could make out words. Killed him. I’ll kill you. So they wanted her alive at least for now. That was good. Jostled, she was placed on the floor. She could hear and feel as the layers of her cocoon were removed. The unpleasant part was when they unrolled her from the blanket. Her world was a spinning mosaic of color. It made her want to barf.

Closing her eyes she tried to control the desire to spill the contents of her stomach on the black and white rug. She was he-man, big tough hacker. They didn’t toss their cookies from spinning in circles. Right? Maybe she did. At least, if she had a concussion. Which she might. She could feel the blood, tacky, chilling against the cold air.

Pants came into view first and she rolled her eyes up his body. The first thing Circe noticed wasn’t the gun but his tattoos. Great survival instincts, this girl. He crouched over her, though it did little to make him closer to her height. When the cold barrel was used to turn her onto her back she winced and swallowed.

I will not throw up. I will not throw up. Big bad. Hep Hacker.

Then they pulled her into a sitting position and she groaned.

“If your plan is to torture me, by making me throw up. You assholes are on the right track.”

Her voice was breathy, followed by a slow inhale in and out. When her wrists were freed, she shifted her body. Folding her legs indian style she looked up at Jester. Her eyes were cautious. “If I was responsible, killing me would have meant his death.” It might have sounded like a boast. I am just that good. In a way it was, but it was also just the cold, brutal truth. He was right however, for the most part. She did big jobs. She fucked with families, if all of them were adults. She did go-good shit. Her eyes moved from him to the man on the table. “Mostly right,” she said after a moment. “However, I don’t fuck with gangs.” She blinked. “Okay, that is a lie. I don’t fuck with smart gangs.” That was the absolute truth. If she thought you were stupid enough, she’d mess with a gang.

The cold barrel of the gun felt blissful against her hot skin and she leaned into it, eyes closing as her heated skin ate the cold from the metal. Honestly, she wanted to nuzzle that cold barrel and purr like a kitten. It felt that fucking good. Something told her that wouldn’t be conducive to keeping herself alive though. “That would be one short fucking list.” Lifting a hand upwards, she pushed the gun away from her head. “If you found me, you have to also know I live like a fucking hermit.” It was safer.

Getting to her feet she made her way to the man on the table. Looking down at him, she frowned. She could do monstrous things, but she never wanted to do this to someone. This.. was torture. Not her cup of tea. She carefully lifted the sheet and her fingers traced the casing which housed his heart. She hadn’t been hired for something like this. She wouldn’t have been stupid enough to agree, had someone even tried. No. Someone had played her. Turning, she looked at Jester.

“I need two things. Scratch that. Three things.”

She lifted a finger. “A computer.” A second finger rose. “I get to fuck with whoever did this, before you get to.” A third finger. “I get to leave. No strings.”

Bold to dictate terms while the man was holding a gun and another was slowly dying behind her. But if she didn’t get his word now, she likely never would. She was useful to him, them now.

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

Jester did manage to crack the barest smile at her claim that they tortured through nausea. It helped, just a bit, to have someone make a little joke. He meant what he said when he told Circe they did not think this was on purpose. There was no reason for him to be especially hostile. Hostile was his standard mode, generally, but there were levels to it. Her comments on her rep, though, annoyed him.

Either this was some kind of fucked up set-up attempt or she thought very little of them. The second seemed less likely given that they had caught her in a matter of hours. Which meant someone else gave her the job without explaining the consequences.

"Well, congratulations hacker girl. You are now part of a very select group that knows about my brother's heart. That is why I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt."

It had also been how they caught her. Haywire made top of the line stuff and that meant the things they had for sale were nothing compared to the private collection. Whoever set this up had to have given Circe a specific network to go for. No one had access except Jester and his brother. So, the new user was the problem. Follow the rabbit.

Jester chose to ignore the hermit comment. It irritated him to have a very standard threat flipped around. Not like he meant it literally. This girl was bristling with confidence even right now. He was beginning to wonder if she even wanted to live.

When she walked right up to Jackson on the desk, he questioned it even more. She was making demands?

"Okay, so I won't give you a bunch of misogynistic bullshit. I know you are who you are. But, this isn't how this works."

Jester nodded his head to one of the men still standing in the background. The man walked around the desk and slid open a drawer, pulling out a cyberdeck. He set it on the top next to Jackson and went back to his spot observing and, theoretically, protecting.

"You get this deck. It won't connect to anything remotely. You fix my brother, tell him how you got in our system, we send you home."

Jester moved around Circe, nudging her slightly as he pressed on the center of Jackson's tattoo, opening the port that connected to his coverage.

"If you track down the person who sent you this job, do what you want. Just as long as you tell us. Just make sure you're quick about it, cause they are dead as soon as we catch up."

The last was the biggest contention.

"As for you leaving 'no strings', that ain't happening either. You cracked our security. That won't fly. Once Jackson is up, you can explain every little detail to him. After that, I don't give a shit where you go. Just make sure we never see your face again. Now, fix it or I shoot you in the head. Several times."

 

[Bunny]

Bristling with confidence? Oh, Circe would have loved to know her false bravado was paying off. It would have tickled her little heart all the while she would have been amazed.. Nay scratch that.. Floored that they bought this little show. Circe was among the best of the best and yet, a bullet to the head would kill her just like anyone else. She didn’t know how to fight, at least not physically. Like being in the deep end with sharks and not knowing how to swim. Her flailing should have alerted them, but for now, she treaded water.

Oh goody. That was a group she didn’t want to be a part of. That made her being alive dangerous to them. “No offense, I’d rather not be in that group.” One small problem with Circe, she was unable to keep her mouth shut. “Seems kinda like the, I’d tell you, but I’d have to kill you kind of group and.. Gotta say, that really isn’t my jam.” She was hilarious. Yep, your friendly neighborhood hacker and comedian rolled into one. She really needed to shut up. Less talking, more living? Maybe..

She looked over at him as a man placed a cyberdeck before her. “No, you just wanna mansplain it to me.” He moved in closer and she stilled. She didn’t like her personal space being invaded by a psychopath with a gun. Sue her. She bit back any other less than helpful words as she began to work. Her eyes were focused solely connecting to his heart and then the screen. Her fingers, while she made the connections, were gentle and it was clear she was trying to not hurt him further. This, though, had very little to do with his brother and more to with her own guilt.

She worked, focused. The first thing she did was stop the little worm. It wouldn’t fix him, but it immediately stopped the pain. It wasn’t meant to be put into this kind of hardware. No wonder he’d been in so much pain. She then began the task of removing each one of the spindly arms that it had embedded into the system. As she worked, she spoke. “I am guessing you don’t quite know how this works. Anyone with enough talent can get in. Just depends on how much they want to and how many hours they are willing to spend bashing their skulls against a wall to do so..”

Simplified? Nothing was hack proof. Nothing.

It wouldn’t take minutes. It took her hours.. Hours to remove the code, to fix the damage it had done in the existing code. She took a little more time to sure-up the code. Making it a little more resistant to anyone trying to tamper with it. This, she didn’t tell him or bother to share. She didn’t do it to earn clemency or anything like that. She wanted to make amends in her own way.

By the time she was done, Circe felt faint and the sun was high in the afternoon sun. Stepping back she let her hands fall to her sides and her voice held the exhaustion she felt.

“Right as rain.”

---

#696969
#d77038

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

Jester took a seat on the edge of the desk. For Circe, it was a defense mechanism. She made biting little comments and kept a banter up. Normal enough. On any other day, Jester would have shut up, dealt with her tone, and let an expert handle things. Today, his brother was dying an extremely painful death and, intentionally or not, Circe was the cause. So, her jokes were not exactly landing. In fact, given hid rather caustic mood, Jester would have killed her already if he knew someone who could fix this. His tech guy also just happened to be the victim. Except, then she got a little too sassy.

"Mansplaining? Are you fuckin' kidding? You just rolled in here wrapped in a carpet with a bag on your head. This isn't mansplaining. This is me telling you how shit will be. Get. The. Fuck. Over it. God, I can't wait until Jackson can deal with your shit."

Jester had a few bad habits he was well aware of. Mostly he could keep them under wraps. Nervous tapping was one that was currently leaking through. Unfortunately, for Circe, this involved him impatiently tapping the barrel of his pistol against his leg. An unfortunate side effect of being around far too many guns was that they simply became an extension of your arm. So, while she did her work, he tapped a gun right near her face.

"No, smart ass. I don't know how it fucking works. The one who knows how it all works is unconscious. But, it isn't about skill. People don't have access because they don't know the network exists. So, whoever gave you the job knows a lot they shouldn't. Jackson can talk shop once you fix him."

The tapping and hovering lasted maybe a half of an hour. Then, he was pacing again. The guards eventually got dismissed. It was about an hour later that Jester started to flip through the net. Two hours later, he was sitting in a chair, just watching. Three, he was asleep, the gun still curled tightly in his fingers, though they were off the trigger.

Somewhere around the same time, Jackson's breathing began to even out. He stopped sweating bullets and his expression no longer twisted in pain. For a long stretch of time, it was quiet. The only thing moving was Circe's fingers in the deck.

Jackson cracked one eye open while she was still hard at work. His heart was doing was it was designed to again and his brain seemed to be more than happy to come back as well. He peeked over at the hacker-turned-mechanic only to see the bright lights of the screen dancing across her face. Unlike his brother, Jackson was aware enough to understand that disturbing her would just make this take longer. Instead, he closed his eyes and opened his neural interface.

For the next few hours, Jackson just watched. He watched Circe worm through his code and correct a thousand little errors. More importantly, he watched her mess with things that were still completely intact. So, he ghosted a few steps back, keeping an eye on every change she made. Encryption, double layered firewalls, a few changes to the backdoor pathways that made them harder to crack. Likely, she closed the same security issues that she exploited. When it was all said and done, Jackson was thoroughly impressed.

When she declared his repairs complete, Jackson was already well and truly recovered. So, while she was on the verge of tipping over and his brother was snoring on a chair, Jackson sat up. He took the jacket that had been partially covering him and wiped it across his face, though most of the sweat had dried already.

"Right as rain? Who says that? Jester! Get up, dick head."

With a toss, the jacket flew over Circe's head and landed right over Jester's face. The more thoroughly tattooed brother flew up to his feet and waved the pistol in the air dramatically before he realized it was his brother's voice.

"Who is she?"

"She's the Robin Hood. And the one who almost killed you. Don't get pissed. I already told her we ain't killing her and you aren't making me a liar."

Jackson sighed and ran a hand through his dark blue hair before turning to Circe with a smile.

"Didn't think Robin Hood was this young. So, Hood, I'm assuming you know you are a genius. Won't bloat your ego. Anyone have you working for them? Interested in a part-time gig?"

Jester snorted in disbelief at the words and threw himself into the chair again, making it lift and fall with a bang.

"Holy shit, Jacks. She almost killed you and you are trying to hit on her? Fucking moron."

 

[Bunny]

“So you can’t mansplain if you kidnapped me?” Her brows rose and she tilted her chin to one side. “Because.. I couldn’t understand it?” On some level Circe was enjoying poking him. Needling the big bad man with a gun though was unwise to her health. She knew it. Knew she should keep her fucking mouth closed. Yet she kept talking. It was a sickness. Yep it had to be. “Me too, hope he is less of a prick.” The words were made light, playful. She really was on some level, just trying to help him relax.

She’d broken his brother. Yeah, it was bad. His freaking out though wouldn’t help either of them. Pinching the bridge of her nose she took a long, slow deep breath. “I get it, he is the brains and you are the bully.. But you need to understand.” It was like trying to talk to a child.. Kinda cute and entirely frustrating all at once. “I understand, I do. But you need to understand that nothing will keep anyone out.” She motioned to the room. “Like this room is secure, yeah? Well, what if you really wanted to get in, could you? Sure you might have to go through the guys, but there are about half a dozen other ways in here than brute force. As to no one having access… Clearly that is wrong. Someone made a key, so to speak.”

The only way Jackson would have been safe was if this was a closed network. Very few things were. Inside you? Too many people had a hand in the pie. There was a reason the only alterations to her body were made with ink and steel. Rolling her eyes she fell silent. It was like talking to a wall. An obstinate wall with a gun…

She hadn’t noticed him wake up, far too focused on the task at hand. Well, the task she’d given herself. On some level Circe might have realized he’d wake up now that his heart was working correctly. His sitting up didn’t scare her and shea gave him a slight smile. “The British at the very least. It was coined there in the nineteenth century. Or so people believe.” Circe lifted a hand as the word believe was stretched out as she yawned. Goddess she was tired.

The air above her head ruffled as the jacket was tossed at Jester. His soft snoring had been background noise for her work and it had not helped with the tiredness. She looked over her shoulder at him. “You know, you could record your snoring and sell it as white noise?” She bit back a laugh at his waking animations. He was an odd one.

“I also am willing to bet you thought I had a dick and was taller.” She offered him a slight smile. His praise made her lift a brow. “I mean, I tell myself that in the mirror every day, but hearing it repeated ain’t half bad.” her smile, still sleepy, tried for cocky and failed as she yawned. “No one. I would like to keep it that way.”

The offer was nice, sure.. But she didn’t like the idea of anyone holding her leash.

“So.. Can I go now?”
Circe didn’t like the idea of being here any longer than needed. It had every little to do with them and a lot to do with what they were. More so, Jester had made it seem like she wasn’t free to go.. She knew too much. She didn’t want to be anyone's pet. She might have been a hermit, but she was her own fucking hermit. She worked the jobs she wanted to. Had freedom. They could take it from her.

---

#696969
#d77038

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

Jester found her explanation to be frustrating for a few reasons. One, she refused to believe that the two managed to keep their cybernetic access under wraps. Two, he was not an expert hacker. That did not mean he was a child. In fact, Jester was a lot more capable than the act he wore. Not to mention he was trying to keep his brother alive. He let it go for the moment. In truth, it was unlikely he would bother to bring up how much her mouth annoyed him. Work was work and she would be done hers soon. At least, he had thought that until Jackson woke him up.

When he woke up, Jester was not sure if he was under attack. His right eye focused faster, the mechanical lense not bothered by the change in light. Lucky for Circe, this kept him from trying to figure the situation out in a panic and possibly firing. Unlucky for him, Jackson was already making buddy buddy with the hacker.

Jackson, on the other hand, had been awake and following the coding work for hours now. He was bright and alert as Circe made her little jabs and assumptions.

"Well, taller definitely. You are tiny. Dick? Who knows? Anyone can get a dick installed these days. Organic even."

She was biting and sarcastic even as she replied to the compliment and it made Jackson smirk. Jester had been joking about him hitting on her, but that may not last.

"No, you can't go. We aren't going to kill you or anything. Won't even hurt you if we can help it. But, you are the only way we are going to find whoever set this up. You seem like you want to do your own thing. So, you can crash here since you seem ready to pass out. Then, give us some information."

Jackson seemed ready to continue with his explanation, but a jacket hit him in the face. He caught it in a jumble and sighed, looking at his smirking brother before flapping it a little. With a comfortable ease, he pulled the jacket over his shoulders, letting it rest. Wearing it, his chest was still mostly visible, though it hid the center spiral that led to his heart access.

"Just information. You give us the details of the job and where you got it. We found you, which was an absolute nightmare by the way, so this should be easy. I'd even let you leave if I expected you to be there when we came looking for you."

Jester let out an exasperated groan at this. Jackson was being too soft.

"I agree we shouldn't kill her, but you are going to leave her around all our shit for however long before you question her? She got to you, who knows what she could do to the rest of our shit. This little pumpkin is going to fuck up the whole building and leave us with the mess then rabbit off to some safe house. Ask her now."

 

[Bunny]

She rolled her eyes at Jackson as he called her tiny. “I am aware.” Though when he made the joke about the fact she might have a dick, a smile poked through. “No dick, sorry boys.” She lifted her palms in a sort of ‘isn’t that too bad?’ kinda motion. Not that them seeing her genitals was ever going to be on the table.

Jackson’s smile at her remark was not missed but it was his answer to her question that got her full attention. Of course. He was reasonable, correct even and she hated it. Though, had they let her out of this room she’d have run. Not a little.. A lot. This all felt like they would try and keep her. She didn’t want to be their pet hacker. She didn’t want to be their damned anything. She just wanted her freedom.

“I didn’t really want to be found..” It had nothing to do with the job, they both knew that. His proposal didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t want to stay here. She looked at him and the look was clear. If he let her leave he would never find her again. That alone would mean they’d keep her. At least till she found the person who had tried to kill him. Afterwards, she wondered if they’d let her go then? Something told Circe that the answer to that was no.

Jester let out a sigh behind her and his voice came out slightly annoyed. Looking over her shoulder she flipped him off. “A) If i wanted to fuck with your shit, you could do little to stop me. B) don’t call me that.” She didn’t tell either of them how she’d helped Jackson out beyond just saving him. Circe wasn’t aware that he knew either.. But there was no need to brag about her good deed.

He wasn’t wrong though and she looked at Jackson. “I could start looking now..” She was fucking tired though. It wasn’t like finding them would be a walk in a park. Hacking meant you could get through anything. All you needed was dedication. Dedication and time. More often than not it was the latter that was really needed.

---

#696969
#d77038

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

Jackson was all smiles and Jester looked like his pet had died despite his brother's recovery. Work mode was engaged for both of them. The CEO knew how to talk with a client, or in this case, a business associate. He could warm someone to him in a mechanical heartbeat. Jester, while not as poorly educated and trained as his street thug attitude let on, was not the best at warming people up. He ran crews of people who did not do well with organization and had to make them work as the street level army for a whole Corp. He took disrespect as a request for death, or at the very least a broken bone. Circe has requested a few dozen at this point. So, he was nearly grinding his teeth behind her while she spoke to his brother.

"Well, I'm sure there is more than enough dick between the three of us. I get you wanting to stay off the radar. People like you tend to get double crossed by people like us. But, your rep shows that we are two ships passing. We want you working, soaking up jobs and money so someone doesn't take your spot and become a regular pain in the ass."

Jackson had intended for it to be something of a reassurance of her safety. She was the devil they knew and a devil who did not want to fuck with you was the best kind. Having that devil form a positive opinion was even better. So, Jackson thought this had a decent chance of going their way. Right up until she turned to poke at Jester again. His brother was frayed, burning on both ends. His nap had been all the sleep he had gotten since the whole incident began. It seemed that Circe was good at accessing the weak points on people as well.

"Keep talking shit, pumpkin. You think you can do some damage to our systems. How many computers can you crash before I put a bullet between your stupid Halloween hair colors? The answer is zero, you little pain in the ass. You ain't leaving my sight until this is finished. Know that."

Jackson let out a long sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was like babysitting and he had no energy for it. At this point, keeping any of them awake longer would result in an actual death.

"You won't be looking until we all get at least four hours of sleep. I would prefer you both get more, but I don't think it will happen. Please, uh... let's go with Robin. Just deal with him for the next few hours and don't poke him too much. Remember, his brother just almost died. He seems more upset about it than me. Now, I'm going to drink a gallon of water and sleep. So... out you both go. Don't, and I really mean this, kill each other."

Jester took the sudden dismissal as exactly what it was. Jackson was annoyed with them and now they were bring ordered away. On a different day, he might argue. Today, all of his arguing had to be saved for the hacker. With a grumbling noise that resembled "fucking bullshit", Jester went to the door. It hissed open at the touch of a pad and he took a whole three steps before turning and waiting against the wall. His office, and the attached room he used when he needed to stay, were only half a hallway away, but he had no intention of trusting Circe to follow on her own.

 

[Bunny]

A slight smile curled on her lips. “Perhaps. But I will never find out.” His words had her sobering. “No. People like you try and own people like me. Gangs... corpos.. All the same..” There, her fear laid out before them. His words didn’t soothe her, though she knew Jackson was trying. He could talk the talk, he maybe meant to let her go, but when push came to shove.. Would they really let her go when the time came? Someone who had wormed into his heart and nearly killed him? It hadn’t even taken her anytime. She was dangerous to them now. A liability. Her past likely helped her, but if a competitor found out? Kidnapped her? Tortured her?

“No one would take my spot..” Even if she died, most were in it for themselves. Hell, Circe wasn’t any better. She was in it for herself, she just had morals. Something most in this city lost early on. She jerked a thumb over her shoulder in Jester’s general direction. “Even if he put a bullet in my brain right now, no one is going to be robin hood.” She knew that wasn’t what he meant. Circe was far from stupid. Until someone like Jester came around that was. There was more than one reason she was a hermit. She was good at annoying people. Even when it wasn’t the best of ideas.

She turned to face Jester. “Not much. I suppose that is fair. But I was able to drop what.. A handful of your guys before they took me down?” Her eyes roved his body. It was the sort of look that men gave women, though there was no heat in her eyes. Cold calculating. “If you wanted to dance though.. Give me access and see how much damage I can do before you kill me..” She bared her teeth ferally at him. He’d kill her, she didn’t doubt that. But she would do irreparable damage before he took her out. As it was, the first time she got near a computer she would fuck with him on principle. Calling her pumpkin was really starting to piss her off.

“Can’t keep your eyes off me? You’re a bit of a masochist huh? I know I am hot, but you are never going to touch me.” Flipping him off she turned to look at Jackson. “Better than pumpkin..” Circe mumbled. She wasn’t planning on telling them her name. Hell, she hadn’t even named herself Robin Hood. Circe had never wanted to be named. She preferred being invisible. “And I was kidnapped and had a gun pointed at my head. I think we are even.” Circe was quickly losing the small amount of control she had over her mouth.

She wasn’t going to go easy on him. Was she sorry? Yes. For nearly killing Jackson. She didn’t give two shits about Jester. Prick. She didn’t answer him as he told them not to kill one another. She’d not have killed Jester.. Maim him? Maybe. But she would never lay a hand on him to do so. She heard the door and closed her eyes for a moment. She didn’t pray to anyone other than her own sanity to give her strength.

Following him from the room she heard the door slide closed behind her and she waited for Jester to lead the way. Circe wanted to leave and was being held hostage.. No pretty words could change that. However.. She had tried to kill Jackson. Well. She hadn’t. She’d been tricked. That ate at her pride. Down the short hallway he opened another door, this one an office. She was surprised to find the clean lines, the dark colors making it look.. Respectable. It didn’t seem to fit Jester, though there were little touches that seemed like him. Another door and she stepped into a small room. Comfortable chair and bed. The room was unadorned. Still dark colors, but devoid of personalization. Figuring he’d make her take the chair she walked past him and collapsed into it. Curling up some.

Circe hadn’t said a single thing to him since she’d followed him out the door. She was trying a new tactic. Not getting herself killed by running her mouth. It was a lot harder than it seemed. Painful even. Poking jester was very very fun. The gun.. Not so much.

#696969
#d77038

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

Jackson watched Circe leave with a long and drawn out sigh. All he could do at this point was sigh. She had been kidnapped, yes, but she knew exactly how much damage her worm had done. If it had taken any longer to find her, Jackson likely would have needed to get the entire prosthetic heart removed and replaced to live. If it had not spread by then. It would have, of course.

Jester, meanwhile, was stuck escorting the little mouth down the hall. If he had been in a better mood, he might have found it funny. A cute little thing that liked to talk shit and start fights? Hell, it was exactly his type. Today, he had no tolerance for her complete lack of compassion. Jackson had been a few hours away from death and who knew if anything else would work. It was the downside of being part cybernetic. Sometimes a ripper could fix what a doctor could not, sometimes the other way around. Jester had more hardware than his brother. That meant Circe could do a good amount of damage if she got access.

"Yeah, yeah. Talk all the shit you want. I'm not going to let you get access. I'm taking you to a closed room. No signals in and out. No deck, no hack."

It was hard to disagree with some of the shit talk, however. She was hot. It was unfortunate. Jester found himself wishing it had all been different. Now, though, they were enemies. No friendship was coming out of this, never mind anything more than that. They could just wait the next few hours, then she could help Jackson get their guy. After that... it was hard to imagine it turning out alright at the end.

The office was neat, less used than his brother's. Despite the fact that his entire torso was covered with art, Jester liked to keep things simple. People respected an organized space, saw it as a sign of an organized person. Jackson decorated and made the office his home, which made sense since that was where all the Corpo shit happened. For Jester, this was what he needed. When someone sat down in this office, they knew it was serious.

The side room was even less used than the office. It was meant for overnight office work, but Jester did not fancy being behind a desk. If he worked overnights, he was out lifting some competitor's hardware or taking out a new gang that was trying to push into their territory. This was not the kind of business he had gotten so good at.

When they walked into the room, Jester realized that the pumpkin had been strangely quiet. He was prepared to say something to his effect when she walked past him and fell into the chair, obviously exhausted. Jester rolled his eyes so hard he thought he might break something.

With less than gentle hands, Jester scooped her up into a bridal carry. To his surprise, she weighed almost nothing. She was small, yes, but hardware weighed more than flesh. A hacker like her would probably be double the weight of a natural human. He was caught on that for a long moment, but she would start fighting soon. He turned and let her drop, rolling out of his arms and onto the mattress.

"I won't be sleeping. You can take the bed. I'll even turn the lights off for you. But, don't try anything. I have night vision in one eye."

His warning delivered, Jester leaned over to the doorway and clicked the button for the door, then the lights. Despite the fact that he had intentionally not told her which eye, his right had the distinct green reflection near the pupil that marked night vision. Moving to sit on the chair, he lifted one knee up to his chest, crossing an arm over it to rest it. The sooner she fell asleep, the easier this would be.

 

[Bunny]

It took a lot to not Snap back at Jester. Like Circe was proud of the Olympic effort it took to not tell him to stop talking shit himself. He wasn’t going to kill her so the threat was pointless. Yeah, she was proud of herself. Fuck him and his pissy attitude. She wasn’t insane, she understood why Jester was acting like this. She nearly killed his brother. They were close. That much was clear. She would have been pissy in his place. The only cad up her sleeve had been Circe hadn’t meant to hurt Jackson. She’d never accepted the job. Jester knew this. Other than being able to save his brother. The fact she wouldn’t have done it has she known.. That likely saved her some.

All that mental gymnastics aside.. Circe didn’t trust him not to put a bullet in her given the chance. Jackson would stop it likely right away, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t eat one soon after. Jester would always see her as a threat and truth be told she hadn’t done much to dissuade him. After they let her go, she’d need to run. It wouldn't be a big deal, Circe had been truthful when she told him that she was a hermit. No one and nothing tied her to this city.

Rough hands picked her up from the chair and she squirmed. “Put me the fuck down!” Her voice was a hiss, trying to not alert Jackson to the altercation. See. She was thoughtful. A saint, even. Jester seemed broken for a moment, cradling her in his arms and she couldn’t help but wonder what had done it. The fact that she didn’t have an ounce of hardware in her not even registering. As if the short circuit in his brain fixed he dumped her unceremoniously onto the bed.

Circe bounced on the mattress and she growled frustrated at being manhandled. “Whatever.” Rolling onto her side, back toward him. It bothered her that while he’d held her, Circe had smelled him. No, he didn’t smell bad. Which would have been preferred. Circe found herself a bit sad that the pillow she rested her head on didn’t have the soft grassiness, freshness and something almost totally absent in Night City. Citrus, gin and something herbal. Frowning into the dark she closed her eyes.

He was stupid. She didn’t like him.

Sleep had come quickly. Odd maybe, considering the situation. Being watched over by a gangster, in a bed that wasn’t hers. Yet that sweet darkness had claimed her and she’d fallen into a deep sleep. Hours passed, and outside a storm began to brew. The lightning came first, the brilliant flashes of light far from disturbing her. It was the first crack of thunder that had her starting from her sleep.

Hear racing Circe looked around, confused. Then came another earth rattling rumble. Circe flinched and looked around. Jester, despite his promise, was sound asleep. That was good. Panic was rising too quickly for her stop. The peels of thunder came quickly and she fought back a cry. It was stupid to be afraid of storms. She knew that and yet she crawled to the corner and curled up. It wouldn’t take long for the tears to start. Now each flash of light made her flinch, curl tighter and then as the boom of thunder came, she whimpered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Circe had never been good with storms. Normally, she knew they were coming. She’d even known this one was coming, but in her exhausted state, she’d forgotten. Had she been home, she’d have made sure she slept through the storm. Drugs, booze and music would have made sure she was dead to the world. There also might have been a teddy bear in a death hold as she fell asleep.

Here, in this tiny room.. All she had was his stupid pillow.

A particularly vicious crack of thunder shook the building and her sob was louder this time, her cheeks and his pillow wet from her crying. Rocking some she curled smaller still. Bad memories came with storms.. At least Jester slept like the dead..

---

#696969
#d77038

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

Circe had been surprisingly docile about him essentially tossing her across the room. Jester found the entire thing to be wholly annoying. Carrying someone while they screamed was just obnoxious. But, she had refrained from hitting him at least. That was good enough. As he deposited himself in his chair, he thought things might actually be easy from now on.

The problem was that Jester did management. Sure, he broke a lot bones and ended up in the occasional gunfight, but it had been years since he had to do grunt work. Watching a prisoner was grunt work. If Jackson's heart was not such confidential information, he would not be doing this. It was, so here he was, staring at some mini hacker while she tried to sleep.

Luckily for him, she was tired enough that she was out before long. It let him move his focus elsewhere. Except, it really was a closed room. He had no signal to browse the net or play a game or anything really. He was let leaning on his arm while that leaned on his knees. The only thing to keep him company was the gentle tap of the gun barrel on the side of his leg. It was a smart-lock, only able to fire when he held it. She was good, but she would not be able to crack that before he stopped her. He could afford to close his eyes for a minute...

---

Several hours later, Jester woke up to the sound of thunder, lightning splitting the sky and making the building rattle just a bit. Well, that was a hell of a storm.

He was forced to close his mechanical eye as the sudden brightness blinded it. It adjusted automatically, the sudden change making it hum for a fraction of a second. When he opened it again, he thought that Circe was gone. He was on his feet immediately, his hand squeezing the gun tightly. Before he could panic, before the next rumble of thunder could shake the room, he saw Circe on the corner, pressed tight the to wall.

He considered that maybe he had woken up in the middle of some attempt to escape and she had recoiled. Then, the thunder hit. He heard the small and terrified sob over even the intense rumble. His natural eye adjusted and the room became more clear. He could see them then. The tears on her face.

"Oh... fuck. You're crying. Shit. We really aren't going to kill you. Really."

Another bright flash and roll of thunder, this time closer and more intense. This led to another sob and a little more understanding. Jackson had been afraid of storms when they were younger, afraid of a sound so close to gunfire in a child's mind. Jester could almost feel his tough shell cracking. She was no little kid, but she was still damn near a decade younger from what he could tell. It made him feel like he had been an asshole all day, made him regret being so harsh. Jackson was safe. It was okay.

Turned just enough to see the chair in his peripheral vision, Jackson tossed the pistol onto the cushion. The room was so small that he barely had to take a step to be beside the the bed.

"It will be okay. It's just a storm, Robin. It won't hurt you."

This seemed to do as much as throwing a bucket of water on a wildfire. Jester felt that crack turn into a valley. He felt like a teen again, taking care of his brother while Jackson went to school. Jester had learned not to mind gunfire so much. A healthy respect, not fear. Jackson still did not care for having guns around. He was crawling onto the bed before he realized.

Moving to the corner, Jester wrapped an arm around Circe's shoulder. He pulled her hard, pressing her face to his chest. It seemed his eyes were intent on looking anywhere but at the small woman wrapped up in a blanket against him. The ceiling in particular was extremely interesting. So long as it was anything but tears.

He moved her a little, pulling her close to his side so that her legs were pressed to his and her cheek rested on his chest. Jester cursed himself for not having a shirt then, a hot tear scorching a line on his skin.

 

[Bunny]

She hadn’t wanted him to wake, to find her frightened of the storm. Weakness could be used, exploited. Now did she think so low of them? Honestly. No. Yet she wouldn’t want anyone to know about this fear. Just like Jester wouldn’t want anyone to know of his deep devotion to his brother. Family was one thing, but this was deeper. On some level she could hear his voice, the words meant to soothe her.

They wouldn’t kill her. She was okay. It wasn’t until he pulled her into his side that he got any sort of response. Trembling against him she was silent until the next crack. She cried out and her arms went around him. He might have feared this was some sort of play from anyone else, but Circe was terrified. There was no faking it as she clung to him, her tears hot on his bare skin. She didn’t care who held her, Jester though had just made himself her rock in this storm. She inhaled his scent. That scent she’d been sad hadn’t been on his pillow.

Circe had lost everything on a night like tonight. Blood, so much blood and nothing but that sound to keep her company. Normally she was better at preparing for storms. For keeping her sanity in check. Tonight though, all she had was a smart mouthed gangster who smelled nice. Who loved his brother.

The storm wasn’t going to subside anytime soon, and with every flash of light, he’d feel the small hacker tense and then even knowing it was coming flinch with the sound. Her eyes were screwed tight as she clung to him. One thought in her mind. Not alone. Not like before. Not alone.

---

#696969
#d77038

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

For Jester, there was no great tragedy. Everything had fallen apart over a long time. It was like that for most people who hated their childhood. No single trauma that could get pointed out, no big event. When Jester had been born, they had a family. By the time Jackson was starting to get good with talking, it was just them. Night City was not a good place to be just anything. So, they became exceptional. Now they threw the money around and ruined lives. The beautiful cycle of violence.

So now, he was serving his penance. It was true he really had nothing against her. Circe just managed to annoy the hell out of him when he was in a bad mood. Now, things were settled. Jackson was alive and well, likely already working on tracking down whoever had orchestrated all of this. Jester had caught a nice nap. Now, the reality of it all was creeping in. They had kidnapped and treated Circe because they knew what she was capable of. Whether she could hack or not, she was barely a grownup, living all alone. She likely craved this kind of attention whether she knew it or not.

So, the tears ran down his chest and Jester did nothing to wipe them away. He just held her tight and when the thunder came with a rumble, he just held tighter. It was a good while before he realized that it was not calming down, neither the storm nor Circe's episode. So, he would have to be an active participant in all of this.

If Jester had been a worse person, he might have simply left. Instead, he decided to try harder. With a fraction of effort, Jester scooped Circe's legs up and pulled her closer, settling her into his lap. She was just a bundle of blankets against him now. So, with a little more effort, having to pry the fabric from her fingers, Jester unraveled the blanket cocoon and draped it over both of them. The warmth of two bodies under a blanket was sudden and soothing, even for someone not currently in a state.

Next, he slid a hand up her back, slipping under her shirt. His hand never went above her middle back, finger tips trailing up and down her spine in a gentle rhythm, spreading and grouping seemingly at random. His head was leaned back against the wall, his chin turned up in the constant effort to avoid actually seeing the crying face. All he could do was distract and, for a reason he could not guess, a song filled his head.

Jester was no singer. It simply was not a part of his arsenal. But, with Circe shaking against him, still crying molten lines of tears down his chest, he decided to try.

You're my white tiger

Captivated by a perfect view
Time stopped and I found my muse
Brighter than the morning sun
Flames burned until the night was done
My faith in love was born again
From the clouds you were Heaven sent
I could tell you we're a different breed
From the way you looked at me

And there's no place that I'd rather be
When I feel your teeth sink into me
I bleed a color that I've never seen
A beauty that makes me complete
You're my white tiger

 

[Bunny]

She hadn’t really known this sort of attention ever and Jester would have been correct in his assumption. Circe was touch starved. She couldn't even remember the last time she’d been held. Even now, it wasn’t quite registering. Yet the comfort was there as he tried to soothe her fear. It wasn’t so easy, but it seemed he wasn’t going to just give up. Had she been more of herself, she might have picked at him. Made fun of him for being such a badass, cuddling her in the dark while the storm brewed. Yet, the hep bad hacker had started it by crying.

Settled into his lap, Circe shifted slightly. Her face found the crook of his neck. He’d feel the hot tears on his shoulder and her warm breath on his neck. She was drowning in his scent as he pulled the blanket around them, his heat warming her. The blanket insulating them. The touch of his hand along her back was soothing..

Then he began to sing. He wasn’t great, but it helped her focus on something other than the storm. Soon, her sobs slowed and then stopped. Her tears slowed and finally the trembling subsided. She was silent while she listened to him sing. She should have felt uneasy or embarrassed. Instead she shifted slightly, a hand rising from the cocoon he’d made them. Her fingers brushed his jaw, gently urging him to look at her.

She didn’t question the desire As his head turned to look at her, she lifted her own so she could press a soft kiss to his lips. She didn't linger, but it was a thank you for his kindness. Circe wanted to say something. It was toss up between how he wasn’t as bad ass as he put on or an apology for the damage she’d done. Something she’d not said to him.

She did neither. Her fingers slipped toward the nap of his neck. She wanted to kiss him again. Kissing him would be a good distraction from the storm, which still raged. He.. was her first kiss. Odd that she wanted to kiss him.. Yet. she did. "What was the song called?" This was asked against his lips.. their breath mingling.

---

#696969
#d77038

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

Jester felt her body relaxing as he held her and sang. Her soft skin on his finger tips distracted from how awkward this all felt. Comforting some girl they had kidnapped the day before was not in his horoscope. As she settled, tears stopping and body stilling, she did something he expected even less. As he finished the part of the song he could remember, a small hand touched his jaw. Curious, Jester turned his head. What met him was a pair of warm little lips, so small and fragile right now.

The hand on his neck woke up the male side of him. It made him very aware of how intimate things had gotten. The touch of her lips, though, made him want to continue to be soft. She breathed her question against his lips and it made him catch his breath. This was happening and there was no stopping it. A small part knew that. Whether they liked it or not, they picked on each other like kids with a crush. She was just his type. Now, she was in his lap and kissing him. Jester could not argue with fate, even if he did not believe in it.

"It's called White Tiger. From a band called Our Last Night from forever ago. It just... popped into my head."

The hand on her back slipped a little higher and he turned his head to make their mouths match up again. This kiss was a little deeper, a little hungrier than the first, but it was still gentle as a lamb. The hand on her leg that had kept her in his lap gripped tight. He pulled her legs in more, settling her whole body more against him instead of just her head. The tips of his fingers went under the straps of her bra, nails dragging softly down between her shoulder blades. It was good, whether she had experience or not. It was the kind of kiss you only got when it meant something.

Unfortunately, it was also the kind of kiss that heated up. He broke away for a few seconds, simply looking into her eyes. Then, he caught her lips again. Emotions were pouring out of him now, that same kind of protective nature that had kept Jester safe. Now, it was wrapping around Circe. The kiss made him breath a little faster, his body beginning to react. Under her bottom, he felt something begin to stir, to press against her.

"Shit... Listen, Robin. I didn't mean to... Fuck it."

This time, when he brought their lips together again, he kissed with need. His mouth opened just enough to invite in her tongue if she wanted to play. His hand slid up her thigh and the tips went under her shorts, going so high he could feel the waist of her panties. On her back, he began to move to the side, staying under her bra until he was gently cupping her breast, his arm completely around her. That lasted maybe three seconds before he pushed the bra away, grasping her bare breast and finding the peak of her nipple to gently rub a finger tip against, making tiny circles.

 

[Bunny]

Their breath mingled as he answered her. She tucked it away, that little kernel of knowledge. Not to use it against him or anything so sinister. She wanted to hear it again and something told Circe that he wouldn’t be so willing to give her an encore. He shifted, his mouth dipping to catch hers. He held her to himself a touch tighter, settling her more firmly on his lap. This wasn’t who she was. Circe did not have flings. Jester likely didn’t even consider this. That he was her first kiss and with how things were going.. That he’d be her first.

A hand slipped up her back, nails along her spine, slipping under her bra strap. The sound she made could almost have been called a purr. The kiss had been hungrier and it had deepened. She’d matched him, needing this and wanting him. She did like him, annoying as he’d been. Circe understood why he’d been so prickly and she had poked at him trying to ease her own feelings of guilt.

He broke the kiss, leaving them both panting. Her eyes met his, darker and filled with need. When he bent to kiss her, she rose to meet him. This wasn’t all Jester. She’d started it. She felt him begin to harden and she blushed, squirming slightly. Was it that she’d squirmed or that he’d started to get hard that had him apologizing? She didn’t know and it seemed he didn’t either. His sorry faded into fuck it and his mouth claimed hers again.

He kissed her like a drowning man and when his lips parted, her tongue slipped into his mouth, brushing his. She might not have ever done this before, but it sure as hell didn’t show. Jester’s fingers brushed the edge of her panties and she gasped softly against his mouth. It was nothing to the feeling as his hand slipped around her body, cupping her breast. Circe moaned then, the hand in his hair tightening as her nipple rose to his coaxing.

All the while the storm raged. Forgotten.

---

#696969
#d77038

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

Whatever annoyance that Jester had felt toward Circe was completely gone before that first kiss even connected. He an overdeveloped sense of duty when it came to those smaller than himself. Given his height, that was most people. But, there was something else to it. Curled up in that corner and sobbing, Circe had been vulnerable. Leaving someone in a state like that would have left a bad taste in his mouth. Big brother mode was firmly engaged when he held her into his chest.

The real problem was that big brother mode was not stronger than any other form of Jester. He really did love petite girls with sassy mouths, the kind who earned a name on the street through skill and metaphorical balls, given that Circe assured them there was nothing of the sort between her legs. So, the smell of her hair, the feel of her silky soft skin, the warmth of her cheek on his chest, it all made him give in a little. Then, she had kissed him at the height of that vulnerability.

If Jester had to give an honest answer to his brother about what happened in this room, he would admit that he cracked like a hard boiled egg and gave into the same instinct he had honed watching over the younger of the pair. Luckily for the big bad hacker in his arms, that meant she was in the nest and big brother Jester would not let anyone hurt her, not even his brother.

All of this was besides the point, however. The real point was that his lips were locked with Circe's and every time they renewed the kiss, he groaned softly into her mouth. Be it stress or attraction, Jester was in bliss before he knew it. The feeling of her nails scraping his scalp, her little nipple rising up to meet his finger tips, it was making him forget the whole day. All that mattered was this was going to make them both feel better.

The hand that had slid up the side of her shorts pulled away a little to grab both panties and waistband in one fist before tugging down. It was an awkward little dance, Circe having to wiggle or lift to help him, but it was fun in its own way. Jester even caught himself smiling into the kiss, laughing a little at how silly it felt. Soon enough, the shorts and underwear were left in a bundle next to him, lost under the blanket. He did not, however, stampede forward.

Instead, a hand found the curve of her ass, his large fingers wrapping most of the way around. While one finger would occasionally move in small circles around the little bud of her nipple, the other began to grasp gently at her thigh. He seemed to be bathing in the feel of her skin, relishing how soft her legs were as he stroked and grabbed down to her calf before moving back up the inside of her leg.

That was when he found the real treasure. A single finger slid between her folds, opening her flower just enough for him to feel how ready she was. He found her slick and hot to the touch, prompting another big and throaty groan from him. Without hesitation, he slid a huge finger inside of her, likely as big as two of her own. She squeezed and squirmed around him as he curled the finger upward, stroked her ceiling over and over. His mouth pulled away just enough to whisper.

"Your little ass better be careful wiggling like that. You are getting me too excited to take my time with you."

 

[Bunny]

The sounds he made were making Circe feel lightheaded. The kissing wasn’t helping. The hand that had slid to cup her breast though was by far the worst offender. Circe was for all intents and purposes innocent. At least when it came to sex. Jester was unaware how quickly he was taking each one of her firsts. First kiss.. First to touch her body and at this rate he’d be the first to fuck her. Circe could tell him, warn him. Some small part of her brain whispered that she should. That he should know what he was taking. Another part of her mind was afraid he’d stop if she told him she was a virgin that he was her first kiss.. That he’d pull away or feel guilty. That he was taking advantage of her.. Even though Circe had been the one to kiss him.

So she didn’t tell him. She’d deal with his anger. She didn’t want him to stop. Selfish. This was chasing away the fear of the storm and it was making her feel far too good to want to stop. When his hand moved to her shorts, she gasped and giggled ever so slightly against the kiss as she squirmed and wiggled free of the shorts. Their mouths barely left one another, even as his hands explored her body. Her nipple was rock hard from his teasing and it ached to be touched more. The tip of his finger tracing lazy circles was maddening.

At least Circe thought it was maddening. The feel of his hand along her thighs, her skin like velvet was pleasant. In the wake of his warmth, goosebumps rose. It wasn’t until his hand slid inward and his fingers grazed her needy wetness that she groaned. The sound was mirrored by Jester. His fingers slipped into her and her nails curled into the flesh at the back of his neck, her cry of pleasure far too sweet.

His whisper against her lips was a warning and she whimpered, the sound raw and filled with need. Even had she wanted to still her hips, Circe doubted she could have. His name was a plea, a demand… “Jester..” She didn’t really understand what she asked for.. What she needed. Only that this wasn’t enough.

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#696969
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[Lady Jace Beleren]

This was the kind of sex Jester wanted for a first time with a partner. It was playful, fun. The way they both seemed to need to continue was causing his brain to completely melt. When he had pushed a finger inside and she squeezed him so hard, groaned in a sweet way that ran down his spine, all bets were off. He was going to absolutely lose control if this kept up. Control was a generous word for what he had already.

That needy whimper, his name mixed in for extra effect, was the breaking point. He throbbed under Circe so had that there was no way she could not feel it. His finger gave up on gently stroking her inner walls and instead began to push back and forth, curling as he pulled away to stimulate as many nerves as possible. The whole time he barely took breaks between kisses. Their tongues played little games and he bit hers with a soft playfulness. But, he was done being generous. He needed relief.

The finger inside of her pulled back and came free. A wicked little tease, Jester brought it to his mouth and gave it a long lick, putting it between their kissing lips so she could taste her sweetness with him. It did not linger, though. His hand moved down between her legs and this time it ignored her womanhood. Instead, he reached down and undid his zipper. Without a bit of hesitation, his cock sprung free, hitting against her inner thigh. He was huge compared to her tiny body.

All the while, his hand on her breast was becoming more impatient as well. He had given up on the lazy circles and instead grasped her roughly, his fingers sliding off until he tugged lightly on her nipple. Between her legs, Jester grasped his shaft and pulled Circe into position. All at once, her hot folds pressed against his straining cock. Jester hissed at the moment they met and closed his eyes before returning to his hungry kisses. His hand seemed focused on keeping those hisses of anticipation and pleasure coming. Gently, he began to tap the side of his cock against her, the wetness making them almost stick together. Each hit coaxed little pearls of precum to slide down his shaft, making even more of a mess. His cock was angry and swollen now, veins bulging on the underside. Waiting was not happening.

In a bit of a balancing act, Jester lifted Circe off his lap while also leaning further back into the wall. This resulted in her mostly laying on his chest. With his lower half free, Jester shifted enough to line themselves up. Grasping his cock again, he dragged the thick head against her pussy, spreading her open and soaking his tip. All at once, he relaxed and let her lower. Unaware of her virginity, he did not hesitate to bury half of himself in her, his arms moving to support her lower back and under her knees while his hips pushed upward to get even further inside.

He threw his head back and growled at the pressure and heat. Then, like this was the most natural thing in the world, he found her mouth again and kissed, his hips beginning to move up and down while he cradled her close.

 

[Bunny]

She’d never felt anything beyond her own fingers inside herself. Jester’s were so large. She didn’t know what he’d do. How he’d touch her.. It added to the thrill and the pleasure as they curled upward. They touched the sweetest posts inside her and Circe moaned into their kiss. She could feel how hard he was beneath her and though she’d never known the pleasure of a man inside her, she wanted to.

More than that.. She wanted Jester.

He pulled his fingers from her and she whimpered. Licking the side of his finger, coated in her own juices made her cheek burn slightly. She shifted with him as he pulled her onto his chest. She felt his cock spring free and hit against her inner thigh. The hand under her shirt switched from the teasing circles to rough handling and it made Circe shiver with delight. The sharp little flash of pain made her groan. “Jester..” A demand now.. And then their mouths met again and Circe poured her need and hunger into that kiss.

She felt him sliding against her folds. Teasing and far too little. She rubbed herself against him. It wasn’t until the tip of him slipped into her that some of that aching need was met. The sound she made was unlike the others. A gasping moan. There was pain, a flash of it as he tore through her virginity. Yet there was more pleasure than anything else.

His head fell backwards as he growled and her lips parted as she moaned his name. Cradled against him. Jester captured her mouth again and she kissed him back, moving in time with him. Her body rocking up and down. So when he thrust into her, he went deeper and when he pulled back he was on the verge of slipping from her.

Nipping at his tongue playfully, she ran her nails down the back of his neck. Circe was no longer a virgin. He’d taken that from her and she’d willingly given it to him. Now her body moved on instinct. He was so large inside her, filling her to the very brim. Every thrust pulling forth a needy moan.

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#696969
#d77038

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

The way they laid, the way they were connected, meant that Jester kept her cradled tight to his chest. The hungry kissing should have told him everything he needed to know, but Jester was just as drunk on the moment as Circe. When he buried himself inside her, he was ready to control the pace, to give her overwhelming pleasure to chase away whatever it was that made her so afraid of the storm. He had not been ready for so eager a response.

Instead, just as he started to move, thrusting upward to fill her more completely, Circe moved in rhythm with him. It made him slam into her at the base, fill her completely while she squeezed every bit of pleasure from him. In moments, he was just as lost as her, letting her ride the apex of his thrusts to slam him home with a roughness they had been lacking, then pulling him almost completely free. Soon, the room was filled with the sound of them moaning and groaning into the kiss, the sound of her perfect little ass hitting his thigh.

Except, it was still not enough. He wanted to ravage her, to show her exactly the kind of feelings her attitude brought out of him. So, he sat up more, arms flexing as he took all of her weight in them. Not that she weighed enough to bother even someone who did not have a cybernetic arm. He held her tight still, lifting her so that she was nearly folded in half as he moved to one knee. It was almost awkward, the angle changing so that he was pressing hard against her walls as he went deeper. Yet, holding her completely aloft made it easy, his hip turning to match the new angle.

The whole time, Jester never stopped kissing, joining her in the playful biting game. She bit his tongue and he groaned in approval before biting her bottom lip. He was ready to slam into her in this position, to hold her against him and ravage her as her small hips tried to slam back just as roughly. Then, his climax hit him unexpectedly. He slammed home and throbbed, feeling her squeeze him impossibly tight, tightening around his base like she demanded he cum just for her.


Jester pinned her down as his climax hit. He still had her knees nearly to her chest as he leaned over her, his hips refusing to stop. All he could think to do was lean down and groan into her ear, his whole body buzzing with pleasure. It ran down his spine as he exploded inside of her, pouring out his cum like it was all the tension from the day. He kept thrusting hard, thighs slamming against that amazing ass. Words were gone from his mind. Instead, he growled and nipped her ear lobe. One hand squeezed her ass while the other tangled into the sheet, making the fabric groan in protest. All of it ended in one protracted swear as he gave up and simply stayed buried to the hilt, throbbing out thick ropes of cum against her deepest parts.

"Fuuuuck."

 

[Bunny]

Circe hadn’t known that the way she moved to meet him would be so delicious. All she’d known was she needed to move and what resulted had jester bottoming out in her with each thrust. Too much, perhaps for a virgin.. But that problem would come later. FRight now, all Circe knew was that she loved it. The sounds of their joining filled her ears and there was no more thunder. Just the sound of his groaning, the quickness of his breath and the sound of skin on skin. Her own moans tangled in between the sounds.

That feeling that Jester had slowly built up in Circe too, but she didn’t know a fix for it. It wasn’t quite enough. He did though and soon Circe found herself folded almost in two. Held entirely in his arms, she didn’t understand what this change would do and then he thrust into her again. The walls echoed her cry back at her, shocked for a moment at just how he filled her now. Then Jester caught her mouth with his. His teeth scraping her lower lip and she growled, the sounds playful.

Pistoned. That would have been the word if Circe could have thought of it in the moment. Jester pistoned himself in and out of her, each hard long thrust filling her to the very brim. Yet all Circe could think of was how he filled her, how she felt herself tightening around him as she started to orgasm. Her cry was near a shout as she started to cum.. Her body already so tight around him became vice-like. She milked him, unaware of it. As her pussy quaked around his cock. Pinned to the bed, she felt him trusting almost helplessly into her as he came.

Growling and nipping, Jester emptied himself into her.. Leaking from around his base and pooling on the bed near her rear as it dripped along her soft curves. One word left him and it made her giggle. A damned giggle at the elation her body felt.. At him as he groaned out the word fuck. Panting she closed her eyes, relaxing against the bed. A crack of thunder rang through her ears and for the first time, she wasn’t afraid. An idle thought played through her mind.

Would Jester be willing to become her fuck buddy during storms?

The next came and she turned her head, eyes opening to meet his own. A hand lifted from the bed, tracing the strong shape of his brow, down along his cheek, her thumb brushing his lower lip. “I should have told you something..” Her voice was so soft, and she tried to be brave. Jester would have every right to be mad at her. “I was a virgin..” She wasn’t any more though. No one could deny that. Circe waited, holding her breath for his answer..

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#d77038