ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ℂ𝕚𝕥𝕪 ℙ𝕤𝕪𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕤 | Osteo x Origami

[Osteo]

7:00 A.M Night City
Megabuilding R3
Room 392
​

The symphony of bells and whistles rang off the steel walls of the apartment, stirring the slumbering figure awake underneath the sheets as they were kicked off and a hand slapped down. The hand missed the digital alarm and hit the nightstand before slapping it down again and shutting it off. Slowly, Keneth rose from his deep sleep with blinking blue optics and a messy head of brown that pointed in any which direction, with a rustled beard. Thin lines crossed underneath his eyes, bridging across the bridge of his nose and tapering off towards the end of his cheeks towards the temple. The thin lines were colored silver, a sign of the work he had done and modifications that had been made along with his Kiroshi Optics. Top of the line.

"Fuck..." His head was pounding, throbbing from the ache of last night and drinking. A glass of fresh water was waiting by the bedside, and he picked it up and swallowed it down with one gulp, setting the glass back down and pushing it out of his bed. His naked figure was illuminated in the neon light that poured through the blinds on his windows. His figure was that of a peak physical specimen but such a sculpted figure was easily obtainable by any choom with some eddies and a good ripperdoc. Thin silver lines that matched the ones under his eyes ran down his biceps and forearms. Along the spine of his back and underneath his pecs, around the abs, working all the way down to his legs.

Keneth was chromed out, but it was all underneath. New lungs, a heart pump that could shock him back to life if needed, muscle enhancers, titanium bones, even a Sandevistan. All of it was military-grade, top-shelf shit.

All this chrome was what got him into the position he was in. Better or worse. He had his issues, the PTSD from the unification war, and all the shit he went through in that year when serving in Militech helping out NUSA. Once the war was over, he moved here to Night City, but things weren't great as his psyche had been damaged, and he was teetering on that edge. Lucky for him, when he borged out, he wasn't completely gone and was able to be detained when MaxTac came in. The Apex Predators of NCPD and a group with strong Militech ties you don't fuck with, and they take care of things that the NCPD can't handle like a cyberpsycho.

His current employer and profession now. Working for MaxTac, taking down the very people that he became. Now, he had an option. Give up the chrome and never chip again or work for MaxTac under their supervision, taking his mandated drugs and psychotherapy to keep his mind intact.

Keneth took the chrome. Selfishly as it was, he couldn't give it up. The power he had and what he was capable of. How could he walk away from something like that? He was fucked up, the war did that to people, and he embraced it. It was who he had become now. So this was his morning as he pulled out a small inhaler from the nightstand's drawer. Taking three hits from it as his vision went green, then blue, before reverting back to normal. A tingle sparked through his brain, firing in his nerves as a deep sigh left him, one of contentment.

"That fucking hit the spot."

With his drugs coursing through his system, he moved to the bathroom and stepped into the shower with a slap of the button as warm water cascaded down on his bedhead. Eyes glowing with a digitalized blue as he was pulling up his schedule and plans for the day. Today, he was 'off-duty' and meeting with a Fixer who answered the call from MaxTac and was looking into a developing case. Cyberpsychos were nothing new to Night City, but there has been a recent trend of psychos all branded with a strange mark, a symbol they had never seen before. Naturally, they came to the conclusion that someone is intentionally finding people teetering on the edge and pushing them off to go crazy, leaving their mark behind for the NCPD to find. So they put out the word through their channels, and a fixer got back to them, one he was now going to be meeting up with who went by the name Nemesis.

---

---

10:15 A.M Night City
Chorizo Bar - Northside
​

Chorizo's Bar was the meeting place where he met up with the fixer who had information on the recent cyberpsycho incident. Keneth had limited information on Nemesis and NCPD was currently working on gathering intel on the person in question but this fixer wasn't some bigshot from the Afterlife -- probably someone looking to make a name for themselves and get those corporate connections for future jobs to be handing out. Work up the chain and get into the afterlife, and if this person wasn't some bullshitter, then they would be giving a big benefit to NCPD and MaxTac's partner, Militech.

"Where the fuck is this person already." They had decided on ten on the dot. They were already fifteen minutes over, and so far, he was in the dark. No updates from intel or from the fixer themselves if something was going on and the meeting was canceled. It's not like Keneth didn't stand out from where he sat in a corner booth, back to the wall, with eyes watching every soul walking into this dump. He wore simple clothes. Black cargo pants, baggy enough that the concealed carry on his backside tucked in the waistband wasn't noticeable. To cover it up, he wore a tight-fitting black undershirt and a loosely buttoned blue dress shirt on the top. The top three buttons were left undone and untucked to give a little over on the backside to cover the weapon more.

The ICE on his cybernetics, paired with his Kiroshi's, left him unable to be scanned by some average asshat with chrome. They would need top-of-the-line shit and even more time to get through his ICE if they were looking to hack him or, at the very least, get intel on him and who he was in any database.

So he waited as the dimly lit bar thrummed with nonstop music. Lyric-less and full of bass that you could feel in your bones with every beat. Drunks were already getting their game on this early in the morning; no one gave a fuck when you drank or when you were buzzed by. No lives frequented places like this, but Keneth wasn't much better as he had a bottle of whiskey on his table, already a quarter gone, and his glass in front of him, taking sips out to pass the time.

 

[Origami]

The air was knocked out of Nemesis’ lungs as she was pushed up against a brick wall after a fist collided with her ribs. A bruise was already starting to appear on the side of her jaw from another blow. Blood was covering her teeth as she smiled and giggled at the man whose nostrils were flaring like some angry bull. Three other men were standing behind him, arms crossed looking rather bored as the guy grabbed her by the collar. His hot breath all over her face as he leaned in closer to her face, “If you don’t get your dirty paws on the chrome I need,” he threatened teeth gritted.

“What? You’ll flatline me?” She scoffed and winced as her ribs cramped. “Yeah, good luck with that,” she shrugged the brute off of her, pushing back so he stumbled a few steps backwards.

Her frame wasn’t as big or wide as the gonk in front of her, but she usually didn’t let them toss her around like she was worth absolutely nothing. “I’ll get your shit, don’t sweat it, seriously, it’s unnatural how much you fucking sweat for someone who’s asshole is magnetic.” The entourage behind him snickered, trying desperately to cover it up by clearing their throats and coughing, earning a glare from who seemed to be top dog of them all.

They all increased in laughter, one of them shaking his head while his shoulders jumped slightly, “she’s got you there, boss.”

Nemesis spat out a clot of spit mixed with blood out onto the ground at his feet, “now if you’d excuse me, I need to go fix me a drink along with a meeting I’m late to, due to your ugly chromed out ass.”

He turned away from her, muttering some words under his breath, surely calling her every name he could come up with. “Don’t catch rat fever, Boone,” she called out as he motioned for his crew to follow him, some of them giving her a dirty look.

Her mechanic arm and hand moved up towards her face so she could kiss the palm and blow them a kiss. “Bye boys! Lovely seeing your shit eating faces.” She spat again, groaning as they were out of range to hear her complain about the beating she had just received. “Fuckers,” she cautiously bent down to pick up her goggles, settling them on top of her head, fixing her bright green hair as she looked up at the bright neon sign of Chorizo’s. She had spent way too much time on the Northside, so it wasn’t a real surprise that Boone and his fiddlers found her as quick as they did. It’s not like she wasn’t recognizable. People who needed to know of her knew about her, the ones who didn’t, didn’t. It was simple as that. If the wrong people did end up knowing about her and her way of living, they were simply flatlined. That usually meant easy access to chrome and cyberware if it was collectible. She fixed her brown leather jacket and pulled the disheveled tank-top down, showing off her cleavage, a drop of blood had dripped down the small cleft and dried up. “Charming.” She huffed out and sighed, whatever, this dude just had to deal with it.

One of her trusted sources had set up a meeting with this guy, Keneth, some guy who had previous dealt with overloading his system, quite severely, but clearly it hadn’t gotten him killed, which Nemesis couldn’t decide whether it was impressive or scary as all hell. A healthy mix of both she had concluded once finishing her research on him.

The door swung open easily as she pushed it in with her right arm. Her entire arm had been replaced, from the shoulder and down. It was highly functional and she hadn’t felt the need to get more done to her. Her mind was her greatest weapon. In her humble opinion at least.

Before stepping inside she pulled her goggles down over her eyes. She received a few nods which she reciprocated before finding a seat by the bar, already finding the large male in a corner booth.

While some opted for implants, Nem kept it rather natural. Her goggles were homemade by another good friend of hers. They had collected old chips for her goggles, damaged Kiroshi optics and a whole lot of patience. It had paid out in the end, while they weren’t as in depth as hacking someone, it gave her a pretty good insight to the person she scanned.

The steampunk aesthetic camouflaged them as just part of her accessories, her leather jacket and the straps around her thighs and upper arm on her left side. The lenses large, slightly tinted, and emitted a soft, greenish glow when she entered a dark room, reminiscent of old-fashioned night-vision goggles but far more advanced. Around each lens, a ring of tiny, rotating gears can be seen adjusting the focus and zoom level, adding to the mechanical charm.

She casually slid onto a stool and looked around, casually passing over Keneth in the corner. A bunch of information popped up for her, including a description of all the augmentations he had gotten done. She gulped. Nem didn’t fail to notice the bottle on the table, which made the corner of her mouth rise. “Could I have a glass with ice?” She asked as she faced the bartender, who didn’t question her request.

In appreciation she tipped him handsomely and grabbed the glass before casually making her way over to Keneth and grabbed the neck of the bottle nonchalantly and tipped the liquid out into her glass with ice.

“You don’t mind do you? Can’t leave a girl thirsty, and a man like you doesn’t benefit from drinking all this alone.” She flashed him a bloody smile and filled her mouth with the whiskey, knowing her behavior was a little bold, considering this man had a past.

She looked him over as she swished the liquid around in her mouth, clearing up the last bit of blood. “Waiting for anyone?” She asked in an overly questioning tone, “want company until they arrive?” Nem didn’t wait for an answer like before and slid into the booth, casually crossing her legs and taking another sip.

 

[Osteo]

The amber drink swirled in the smooth glass as Keneth swirled it with his hand, holding the lip of the glass with his fingers while waiting. Already, his patience was beginning to wear thin the longer he was made to wait, and while doing so, he pulled up some documents within one of his optics. The soft glow of orange began to trigger with the optics while he was scrolling through the information they had on this 'Nemesis'. Everything they were finding so far was that this was a fixer within Night City looking to make a name for themself; so far, they have been able to cover their tracks on identity. Past contracts, details, cars, lovers- they had the minimum on this person, as if they were just another choom roaming the streets, unrecognizable and a nobody.

The longer he was waiting the lack of information was coming in. The more he was beginning to think this was some elaborate ruse by an idiot that was wasting his time and that just pissed him off. His jaw tensed as the muscles flexed underneath the brown beard that hugged his face closely, and he was now properly groomed after his morning shower. Bringing the glass to his lips, he took another sip when his systems pinged and alerted him that some idiot was scanning him.

Pulling out of the documents he was in, he flicked his optics in the direction of what his system was pinging him on, and his eyes caught onto a woman at the bar counter. Wearing a pair of goggles and looking right at him. Getting scanned by someone was common in Night City, and it would pull up information from the NCPD database, but if this person was trying to hack into his system, they were shit out of luck, but nothing about his hardware was telling him that it was a hack. She was just looking.

It only became more of a concern when she took an empty glass from the bar and made her way over to him with a cocky confidence about her person. Flashing a smile and touching his booze as she poured herself a drink. With a deep exhale from his nostrils and relaxing his jaw, he leaned back slowly into the booth, looked over the woman, and began his own scan. He did not need to try and hide what he was doing while she took a seat, asking about company and how she would give him some until whoever he was waiting on arrived.

"No need; I believe I just found the person I've been waiting on. " She had scanned him before making her approach, but a lack of information was coming up from his scan. In the Database, she was coming up as a Cromwell and seemed just like an average citizen here in Night City. It's a perfect cover-up for someone who was trying to become a Fixer- until it is well-known, but starting out could be tough. It is dangerous work, just like the work mercs had to take care of.

"So you are Nemesis, my contact. Interesting." He spoke, sounding rather unimpressed by what he was met with. Bringing up one of his arms to rest on the back of the booth and becoming more relaxed, he turned off his scan and looked at her face. "That the reason why you are late? Anything to do with the information you are supposed to be giving me today?" He was here for the recent increase in cyberpsychos. He had no interest in petty criminals or gang activity that she may be involved in. That was for the NCPD to handle, not him. That would be rather overkill to fuck up some regular gonks.

"You are already drinking my booze, so get talking." She was late to this meeting after all and didn't outright say who she was. He wasn't in the mood to be playing games right now, and if her information was good, then she was going to be paid from MaxTac, but that was only if this information was good. If not, then she was getting jackshit, and worse, she may just disappear for fucking around with important business like this since Militech was starting to put their hands into this and breathing down MaxTac's neck on getting this shit under control. There was more to the situation than Keneth knew, but he was smart enough not to ask questions now that Militech agents were starting to sniff around and bark orders. Whoever was doing this, or whatever group was forcing these people to go Cyberpsycho, had ties to Militech somehow -- whatever those ties may be, he had no care in the world to know the truth. The Corp world was fucked.

 

[Origami]

Nemesis gathered he’d scan her, so she wasn’t too surprised when he didn’t play along. These types weren’t in it for the game, they wanted shit done. Immediately preferably. She pursed her lips and shrugged, taking a sip of her drink while taking him in properly, raising a brow for a split second as she swallowed the liquid. He was handsome. In a grumpy way. In a leave-me-the-hell-alone-so-I-can-be-broody type of way. Just from sitting near him, she could tell how much bigger and taller he was than her. While he was leading in the size department, she did have quite the head on her shoulders. No pun intended.

“I thought you’d be bigger,” she said nonchalantly, ignoring his comments and the urging o get talking. Nemesis placed the glass back on the table and placed her goggles back up on her head, “considering all the shit you’ve gotten done.” She smirked. While it was obvious on some, others hid their shit pretty well, which meant a scan was necessary just so she knew what she was dealing with. MaxTac boys were hard to get a one up on, but she had plenty of people who were willing to spill a secret or two to her. “Anyways,” she continued licking her lips. “What’s so interesting about it?” Still avoiding his command. “Expected some dorphed out brain potato? Flabbergasted by my gorgeous presence? You’re welcome, big guy.”

She knew she was testing him, which was a bad idea considering his past, but she didn’t really care about that part. Instead she rested her less bruised cheek on her knuckles. “Just your local rat pack,” she huffed, “luckily my face isn’t the money maker.”

The sound of her glass being filled was music to her ears as she poured herself a generous amount, despite his dirty look. “God, Kenny, cheer up, don’t be a grouch. I think you’ll like this,” she lifted her glass with a finger pointed at him, eyeing his reaction to the nickname.

“The Night Market, I know I know, that’s nothing new. But what if I told you I could get you into The Depths.” She wiggled her eyebrows, “and have someone there who would be willing to talk and answer whatever questions you might have.”

Nemesis had heard about the extreme increase in Cyberpsychos. She usually had nothing to do with any of them up front, but she had lost plenty of good contacts to the fuckers trying to get better and newer chrome, so she didn’t mind helping finding the fucker who bought it all. The Depths was a great place for that. It was top-notch chrome being on that market. Military grade shit that rarely was available in the normal Night Market, so any one with enough money or the best contacts were able to get a whiff of where The Deep Market would be. The location was never the same and it was only up for around thirty minutes. The ones who had access to it only knew about it ten minutes before it aired, so that people didn’t congregate to the spot to stand there waiting and giving up the location or attracting any unwanted attention.

“Besides what I’m obviously going to be paid, I’d want a IOU from ya’. And your direct contact info.”

 

[Osteo]

Already, she was giving him a reason why this was a mistake and why dealing with Fixers was for mercenaries and idiots, as they wanted to try and milk people for everything they were worth. Try to get a foot in the door, good standing with the Corps, and know what they may have to offer to someone like her, but that wasn't up to him. He was sent here to get information and right, not to him; she was stalling on that information by bringing up how he was enhanced and not as big as she thought he would be. He wasn't going for enhancements that would make him taller or bulkier -- he was already naturally tall before the work had been done, and muscle enhancements were stupid. The gang, The Animals, preferred having those types of enhancements that made them look like the Hulk, but all that fake muscle still couldn't compete with the military-grade shit he had done to him.

He was ready to get up and leave, having no time for these little games she was playing. Skirting around the subject before she had poured herself another glass and asked him to cheer up. Bringing up the Night Market and how she would be able to get him in to speak to someone who might know something about what he was looking for, he raised his brow out of pure amusement and bafflement.

"You got to be shitting me." She was now asking for an IOU and his direct information for what he just got right now.

"If I was some chump, I would kill you right now where you sat. We put out a request for information. And you bring me this? Absolutely fucking nothing except a person that may know something?" His hand curled into a fist, and his laid-back position in his booth seat turned towards aggression. Silent and burning, he began to lurch forward slowly and lean against the table. His eyes looked directly into hers while his jaw tensed and flexed, and the muscles along his jawline tightened.

"You are going to take me to them now. And if your friend doesn't have anything but another 'person' to speak to. You both are fucking dead." He would admit she had balls asking him for an IOU and then his information. What she wanted the latter for he wasn't focused on or even gave a shit right now, but he was pissed, feeling like he had been jerked around to get out here while Nemesis was playing games with him. He wasn't going to fuck around with this or even give it a second thought if he felt like this shit was just wool being pulled over his eyes.

With his statement made, he would stand up from his spot in the booth. Clearly indicating that they were done discussing what the plan was, and now it was time for her to get moving, taking him to wherever the fuck her contact was and praying to whatever she believed in that they had the information he was looking for.