Fx Any Anarchy, Blood and Lies. - Story Heavy plots with obsessive and flawed personalities.

Anarchia · Feb 9, 2025

Anarchia
In which I make my desires known.

Status: Open | Post length: 400 - 1000+ | 80/20 Story/Smut | PM's Preferred
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There is beauty in Anarchy...
The way embers dance across the rooftops of burning buildings...
How lightning arches across the sky in a storm...
Blood dripping from one's face after a passionate murder...
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Myself My partners Characters

My aim is to find someone who loves to indulge in writing stories with flawed characters who become intertwined with one another, against a backdrop of a world that can be excessively dark... Love and Hate, Life and Death, Schemes and Plots, Tears and Laughter... A dive into the wonders of the human soul that shows no matter how hard we try, it all comes burning down in the end. Nothing is beautiful because it lasts...

- Experience -
- Writing has become one of my main forms of escape from the commotion of my life, and it has been for quite some time, I strive to be at least a competent writer and I'm very introspective with my writing, often re-reading posts long after I've sent them. In recent years my obsession with writing has grown and it's now my main hobby.
- Writing -
- I lean towards longer form RP's, usually 400-1k+ words per post. Though I can be adaptable with my partners, I like to include a lot of focus on my character's emotions and mental state.
- 80/20 Story to Smut ratio - So you might have noticed this RT sits within Non-sexual, I'm actually fine with smut but I don't tend to enjoy jumping straight into it, I am a writer at heart and as such I love and absolutely adore an engaging story, schemes within schemes, plots, and crimes of passion… Smut can be intoxicating but it's so, so much better within the context of a story, and I hope anyone I write with would agree with that, there can only be so many pages of 'They fucked' before I find myself drifting away.
- I tend to stick to PMs for my writing, I might be convinced otherwise but PMs are my preference.
- My characters tend to be intelligent, introspective personalities, if not slightly unhinged at times. Expect tortured souls, obsessive personalities, and psychotic tendencies.
- I love to write more grounded stories with darker themes and outcomes, there's something about the struggle against the world, that crying out against one's fate and screaming into the void which calls to me, that need for anarchy, even if everyone knows what comes after will be far worse for the world. Rebel leaders overthrow a tyrant, only to find themselves murdering innocents who question their new rule. An obsessed girl summoning demons and making pacts with devils to catch the attention of the one she desires, or the wealth she craves... Most of my characters tend to become self-destructive after a time, Anarchy some might call it. Perhaps another character can help balance them out.
- I'll almost never RP a canon character, I just can't hold an interest in a character that isn't solely mine.
- OOC Notes -
- I'm always happy to chat OOC, either about RP or life in general! Although I can tend to be a private person and a bit of a recluse at times.
- I have a discord which can also be found on the BMR discord server, but I tend to limit it to long-term RP partners I interact with a lot OOC. I also tend not to do much RP on Discord as I find it hard to keep track of them compared to PMs/Threads here. Please don't be creepy OOC, I have no interest in flirting outside of RPs
I always want to hear from you if you've got an RP in mind or just want to chat OOC! I just have a few preferences I tend to stick to if we want to set up an RP together:
- Communication is key! If you ever want to add/change something to an RP, take the reins on storytelling for a bit, or change its direction entirely let me know and we can work on it together. I can't emphasize this point enough, I love chatting OOC and I'm always happy to be flexible to your needs, and I promise to communicate on my side!
- Age 21+ - I appreciate it if my partners are over 21. This isn't a huge problem on Blue Moon as most people are anyway
- All characters must be 18+ even side characters and NPCs, preferably older than that. Most of my characters are mid-twenties+
- No real-life face claims - I just prefer a painted art style. Anime face claims are okay but for reference look at the image above! Real-life pictures of environments/equipment etc. are fine, just not for character face claims.
- Compatibility - My RPs and settings tend to include quite dark and often depressing themes, and hopefully yours do too. Usually, I pair my characters off with a more dominant one, not to say that she still won't have her own sense of agency and independence.
- If you don't feel up to posting or need to stop it for any reason, please let me know! I won't bother you if you do ghost but it's always nice just to get a little message at the very least!
- No Fandom/Canon Characters - I tend to prefer my partners not to play canon characters, I vastly prefer OC x OC. That being said if we already have a history together and you propose an RP I like the idea of and you want to play a canon character, I'll consider it!
I felt I should try to express what characters I love to play and play against! How clear that comes across... We'll see.
I'm happy playing a range of characters but in general, they all have a few traits they share, those being:

- My characters -
- Ambitions/Agency: My characters will have their own goals and ambitions outside of your character, which means sometimes they'll do/say things to get their way even if it conflicts with your character's interests or the world itself, which is good! I find opposite or conflicting goals add so much depth to an RP.
- Intelligent: Empty-headed characters are just boring to me, my characters will use their knowledge to problem solve and avoid conflict when possible, and sometimes they'll doubt their own ideas and plans through overthinking.
- Unstable/Flawed emotionally: I suppose this is slightly harder to articulate, but my characters tend to have some tragic history or overwhelming pressure forced upon them which can lead them to act out at times and become self-destructive.
- Obsessive: It might be their work, a lust for power, or your character... But my character will almost certainly become madly, irresistibly obsessed with something until she has it within her grasp.
- Disliked Character Traits -
I never like to tell my partners how to play their characters, writing after all is a collaborative endeavor, but I do tend to try and avoid some traits in characters that might put me off, by all means, let me know your preferences as well!
- Shy/Underconfident: I tend not to enjoy shy characters in general, as whoever is playing against them tends to have to lead the story a bit, it's not always the case and it can certainly work in situations, but if a character is going to to be shy/underconfident, they still need to act with goals and agency at the very least. If they sit in the corner of a room the whole time the RP is going nowhere.
- Overpowered: This isn't a complete dealbreaker but when one character or the other is extremely powerful in the universe it makes their companion redundant, I would much rather write about two slaves rebelling against a god, than writing as or against a god... If that makes sense!
- Lack of Vision/Goals: Without ambitions what is a person? Without some kind of driving force behind a character's actions, they can feel extremely hollow.

Low-Born x High-Born: An indentured handmaiden leaking information to a burgeoning rebellion before falling for her interrogator, A servant who gossips a bit too much about her masters, A slave catching the unfortunate glimpses of the passing nobility. I love the idea of someone from the masses being plucked away from her life and thrust into the political scheming and games of the nobility. Been forced to attend Parties, Ball's, and Gala's at the behest of her new High-Born acquaintance, whether it be forceful or willing...

I especially love the cultural clashes that occur between someone with nothing and one who has everything at their fingertips, basic things like fashion and etiquette that would completely fly over a Low-born's head. Would noblemen treat his new love with care and affection or abuse and control? It could be played in a lot of ways and I'd love to hear how you'd write it!

Possible settings: Fantasy/Sci-Fi/Cyberpunk(maybe!)
Vampire x Hunter: There was something watching the passers-by coming and going from the town's tavern, it was lingering in the woods in the murky darkness, coiled to pounce at any that strayed too far from the town's border... It may have been a human, once... Over the past days, it had been reduced to a feral, blood-starved leach that would maim and kill for a taste of soft flesh...

I've always loved the idea of having vampires more as cursed humans than the supernatural, unstoppable legends they've become today... A vampire without instant reflexes or heightened strength, just a crazed bloodlust that drives the bearers of the curse feral until they turn on the people they love... At least that's how I'd love to play my vampire anyway, just a normal person who's been banished from her home and roams the edges of towns and cities looking for any that stray too far from its walls.

Possible settings: Fantasy/Cyberpunk (Something Shadowrun-esque!)
Rebel x Tyrant: Hate. A pure, unresolvable hatred for another person is rare, but the Lord-Protector had managed to make an entire continent hate him, of all of his citizens, almost all of them lived in chains to the Ministry of Prosperity... For a thousand years, resistance was crushed under the weight of armoured boot heels... But a new resistance grew from the remnants of the last in the far North, and it was only months after the first raids that the resistance had found itself outside the gates to the Empire's capital, finally ready to sever The Lord-Protector's head from his shoulders. The rebel leader stands at the head of her army, waiting for the capital to fall... To finally let go of the hatred that clouded her mind for years.

But the line between hate and passion is finer than she would like to admit.

Possible settings: Fantasy
Knight x Heir: A knight serving as a protector the heir of the most powerful kingdom of the land, whether the heir seems to care or understand that responsibility is unclear the way they blindly demand to brave the darkest forest of the west and the frozen wastes of the north. Although it is her duty to be at their side at all times, it's never easy having the life of the heir in her hands to protect, as well as her own... for if the heir were to perish to some monster lurking in the dark or a blade in the back, it would be her to go next, at the furious order of the mad king.

Possible settings: Fantasy
Soulless x Demon: How do you lose your soul when fate never granted you one? Can you still even be considered human, a living creature if you lack the spark of creation?

I'm not exactly sure where I would take this idea, It just came to me in a dream one night... Perhaps MC is sent to hunt demons and their followers, and without a soul, it's almost impossible to corrupt her through more occult means, maybe they end up working together... A demon intrigued by one without a soul, one that it can't influence as easily and it becomes an obsession to follow MC along in her life, much to her dismay.

Possible settings: Fantasy/Sci-Fi/Warhammer 40k
Inquisitor x Cultist: How long had she been searching these tunnels? It must have been weeks now, weeks of diving into the eternal blackness of the catacombs that scarred the planet's crust and served as the foundations of its cities, weeks of mapping the seemingly infinite caverns of bone and rock. When she wasn't within the catacombs she was chasing fading leads in the city's slums, following rumours of a cult devoted to the primordial annihilator, the end of sanity... Chaos... In all the time that she had spent in the darkness below she hadn't met another soul, not even a distant murmuring or heard the sounds of chisels upon stone from the catacombs keepers, it was as though it had been completely abandoned, which was unusual in of itself... The catacombs should be maintained by the ever-flowing passage of death and decay.

There was nothing down here... At least, nothing that she had found, not yet... But she would find this cult, one day soon.

Another Enemy to Lovers pairing that I would love to try out, although it's inspired by Warhammer 40k I think it could work in a lot of settings, I'd love to write it whether YC is a cultist or another inquisitor helping her take the cult out!

Possible settings: Fantasy/Sci-Fi/Warhammer 40k
Assassin x Assassin: Another palace to infiltrate, servants to deceive, men to slaughter...

How long had they been waiting in place, waiting for their target to stray into the sights of their weapons? Days? Weeks? It didn't really matter... Their entire lives revolved around the kill, nothing else mattered, except for each other, perhaps...

I've always loved this piece of art Darren Tan did for Assassinorum: Kingmaker and I would love to create a plot centered around it!

Possible settings: Fantasy/Sci-Fi/Warhammer 40k
Your Pairings! 💜: I've talked quite a lot in the thread because I want to give my current future writing partners the best idea about me, but writing is a collaborative engagement, so what's most important is hearing your Ideas as well and mixing them with mine to create an RP we're both obsessed with!

Starters/Plots
This section is a mix of starter posts, plots, and my madness...

A Noble Act: "Your uncle is a traitor to the Empire."

The surprise on her face was genuine, but not at the shock of discovering Lord Gripen was part of a plot to overthrow the empire, in truth both his identity and her relation to him were fabricated, and had been for years since the actual Lord Gripen had been replaced by an imposter during a trade mission in the far west. For the past year, Lady Verity Gripen had been attending parties, gathering information, and rubbing shoulders with the cruelest, most powerful people within the Empire's capital of Salthorpe. It was an act, a deception that had taken years to implant into the political games and ever-shifting alliances of the great houses. For a moment it looked as though it was all going to collapse from underneath her, her mind shifted to her co-conspirators, whether they had been indicted along with her fictitious uncle and then her thoughts quickly turned to what would become of her as the inquisitors prodded at her for information in one of the many drinking rooms in Keep Altoch… Moments earlier she had been dancing with the Heir apparent to the Altoch dynasty.

It wasn't as though she hadn't prepared for such an occasion, life on the streets of the capital had taught her to always be prepared to run, to abandon ones friend and start a new life elsewhere, she had practiced the answers to any questions she expected dozens of times within her own mind before today, even so… As the questions turned to her, to whether she had any knowledge of the plot she couldn't keep the heat creeping up the back of her neck away, her throat closed up and tears welled in her eyes before her attendant, Sessel began to rather vehemently protest how a Lady of the court was been brought to tears with baseless allegations of her own involvement, in truth Sessel was another member of the resistance, a man of minor nobility now disguised as a lowly servant to act as Verity's attendant, despite his protests the inquisitors continued long into the night.

Somehow Verity's tears and practiced answers to their questions seemed to satisfy them, it was an ordeal that she had hoped she would never have to prepare for, and as the inquisitors seemed intent on leaving her mind turned to thoughts of the best way to escape the city entirely… It was only a matter of time until they discovered her of course, perhaps her true name would somehow become associated with Verity, the one she was parading herself as… Or maybe the tailor that had sewn her dresses would comment on seeing her associating herself with other members of the conspiracy… Or even just a noble recognizing her from when she was a street urchin.

"Well… She will have to stay here for now, in the city… we cannot let her return to the Gripen estate after it's being seized…"

Her eyes widened at the prospect, attending balls, dinners, and executions was one thing, but staying within the city, quite possibly within the halls of other Nobility, took the risk of being discovered to new heights, within a moment she regained some of her composure and looked up to the group of inquisitors pondering what to do with her. Before she could even open her mouth to protest Sessel was already stepping in on her behalf, of course he was. His hand briefly gripped her shoulder before he spoke, he always was better than her when talking to the aristocracy, then again… He was one of them. Eventually, they came to an agreement that one of the noble houses would take Verity in, after all… The Gripen fortune was no left with no heir or heiress, in a single night Verity had become one of the most valued members of the nobility, whoever did marry her would be entitled to her family's fortune, as long as it was never discovered she wasn't nobility at all…
Maze Undue: Within the once mighty city of Queen Mab, now weary and exhausted from years of war, is a grand conspiracy that threatens the Imperium at large.

Within the deteriorating city lies the Maze Undue, an unremarkable building that lay at the top of Highgate Hill, much like the rest of the city in which it resided, it was in desperate need of repair, drafts hurried through its corridors, floorboards squealed under the weight of its residents and the occasional roof tile would come down and shatter on the cobblestone street below, but this appearance was, like the role of many of the inhabitants inside, an illusion, for the Maze Undue was an unremarkable school for remarkable people.

To earn a place in the Maze Undue one needed to be selected from the Scholam Orbus, a neighboring school as well as a home for orphans, outcasts, and the unwanted. Almost all of those plucked from the Scholam are soulless, this is not an insult to those chosen, merely an observation that almost all those who come to study at the Maze Undue are what are referred to as 'Blanks'. They lack the spark of creation...

Those who trained in the Maze undue are molded to be infiltrators and illusionists, they carry out what are referred to as 'functions' these can be simple tasks but all include a level of manipulation and disguise on their part, it could be as simple as entering a merchant's house at night and learning the code to their lockbox. Some can be more intricate such as taking on the role of a waiter(ress) for one of the city's dukes and learning the pet name he bestowed upon one of his many mistresses.

Almost all of these functions are practice for the initiates, a 'game' they play to sharpen their skills and make them ready for work in the Inquisition, of course other schooling is perfected at the Maze, all skills you would expect of an infiltrator: History, language, Etiquette, Swordplay, Tracking, Hunting. The list goes on and on… Or well… It used to.

….Until the Maze Undue was razed to the ground and its Blanks scattered into the city.

This plot is heavily inspired by Dan Abnett's 'Pariah' and 'Penitent' books set in the Warhammer 40k universe but in all honestly, you don't need to know much about the universe, the plot is purely set in one city and I have ideas for a few directions we could go with it, whether we want to be part of the 'blanks' that have fled the Maze Undue or even before it's destruction, on the flip side we can be the ones who brought it all crashing down.
To Betray An Empire: "Would you like to know, Vail?"

"Lord-General?"

"Would you like to know who killed your brother?"

The tranquillity of the Lord-Protectors throne room was shattered by the sounds of armour clattering to the floor as Vail entered. The guards at the door had gone down before they had even seen the armoured fists coming down upon them. The throne room was massive and lined with pillars wider than a man, the rest of the guards and members of the court had more then enough time to turn towards Vail striding towards the Lord Protector sat upon his throne. A longsword was loosely held at her side, her wrists swaying the sword in rhythm with her strides that betrayed her bloodlust.

With a wave of a hand, the Lord-Protector silently ordered the rest of the guards to stand at ease, one remained, a towering mass of blackened armour that took a few hulking steps down from the pedestal about which the throne sat, barring the path between Vail and her master. For a moment Vail stopped a few meters from the warrior. "Vail, your brother was a trai-" There was a clash of weapons, Vail's longsword had clashed with the massive war hammer within Orton's hands, The sound of metal straining against metal was the only response Orton was going to receive if she could not kill the Lord-Protector himself, his brother would be enough. Blood for Blood.

The first of her blows was directed to smashing aside Orton's hammer, the second was helmet smashed against Orton's exposed features, the wet crunch of his nose breaking reverberated around the chamber before the third, a slice to the seam of his breastplate at his side, carving a canyon of blood and gore through his skin. All of this had happened within a second before Orton threw himself backward with a torrent of blood gushing from his side.

Another three blows and Orton's hammer was clattering across the marble flooring of the throne room, the second was Vail's off-hand striking against the fresh wound at his side before he found her knee impacting his throat as he fell. The crowd that had formed around them was silent now, the muttering and jeers from some of the guards had died away. This was a Vail they hadn't seen before… It was a split second before her sword found Orton's throat that she was thrown back from her opponent.

When her senses returned to her she found herself crumped back at the massive oak doors to the throne room, The sound of clinking armour was accompanied by her helmet skidding across the perfect stonework. Her hand reached to cradle her wound, her ear… Her ear was on the floor, several feet away, a small puddle of blood forming under it as blood gushed down one side of her face.

The Lord-Protector was standing over her, waiting for her to get up, when had he intervened? How had he strode across the throne room so quickly? She hadn't even had time to react before his blow had severed her helmet from her and cut straight through to leave a mortal wound that would serve as a warning to others, surely nothing could move that fast, nothing mortal anyway….

In a moment she was back up, but the Lord Protector didn't wait this time, the blows were blurring motions of armoured gauntlets and blades, quicker than she could react, surely quicker than flesh and sinew would allow. Vail found herself on the floor once more, her lungs gasping for breath as she looked up at her death within the Lord Protector's eyes, the eyes that had once lifted her up from the burning remains of her family's home.

Writing Samples
To give you a small preview~

40k RP: The respirator clicked as she sucked cold, sanitized air into her lungs.

Her boots thudded against the metallic deck plating with each step.

Sweat beaded upon her pale skin underneath her mask, despite her fingers trembling in the coldness of the lower decks.

it wasn't her first journey down to coolant control, in fact, she was following the fresh, metallic scratches she had left on the walls from her last journey into the depths. Her left hand continually brushed its fingers against the edges of the corridor, feeling for the familiar bumps and curves of the bulkhead structure as she progressed. Voidborn had vision that had adapted to the darkness of void ships many, many generations ago… but even Sabbat was struggling to pick out the bulky shapes of rockcrete and deck plating through her mask that fogged slightly with every breath. Then she heard it, low at first… One could mistake it for the groaning of the ship's superstructure as gravitic forces tugged and pushed at it from the outside, but this was different, this was alive, living, breathing, suffering. The groaning grew until she was sure that whatever it was, it was heading down the same corridor as her. A side passage served as a place to sink into the darkness, and she hurriedly crammed her bulky suit and backpack inside the maintenance hatch and waited for a darkened figure to pass by.

It didn't take long for the creature to appear, she had never seen one in the light, never seen their true form. the vague outline of a man passed by the passage, a red light illuminating one of the caverns in his skull where his eye should be, her respirator clicked off as she held her breath and waited as it lingered nearby, ever-groaning, it shuffled in place for a moment, looking back the way it came before it continued on its way… Sabbat waited there in the passageway until the thudding of its bootsteps faded into silence, her legs curled up to her chest like one might find a frightened child in a side alley. One hand firmly resting on the las-pistol far older than herself holstered at her hip, the other gripped a tiny golden imperial Aquila that was ever-present around her neck, she wasn't sure why the double-headed eagle gave her comfort, but her family seemed to believe it kept one safe in the void, which was as good a reason as any to cling to the superstition.

After she managed to bring her breathing back under control she pushed herself upwards, forcing herself to step back into the corridor and continue… Compared to the rumours she heard from the upper decks, the ones below her home were relatively safe, the 'shamblers' stuck to themselves and seemed unaware of their surroundings much of the time, much easier to deal with than the gangs of desperate, malicious gunners that waged wars on the upper decks. Sabbat fell back into her routine… Hand running across the passage walls, the occasional glance over her shoulder. Such was life for a scavenger aboard a void ship drifting in the abyss,

Within coolant control she had found a source of water, a massive storage tank that acted as a heat exchanger for the ships coolant systems which once regulated the massive forward weaponry that bristled the ships bow, now it kept her alive… she dropped the empty container she had been carrying and began to fill it with a hose she had left the last time she had visited. The stale water sloshed into the tank and she took a moment to seat herself beside it as it filled. Sabbat's muscles were straining under the weight of the voidsuit, it was never designed to be worn for days at a time, not that she knew that… but the weight of the oxygen tanks upon her back became more pronounced with each passing minute. With the additional weight of the gallons of water filling the tank, it was a torturous journey back, one that made her feel very exposed as she stumbled around in the darkness before climbing her way back up an ancient elevator shaft to the habitation deck, well… that's what the former cargo hold had become, a slum of scrap and desperate people scrounging to survive.

When Sabbat finally trudged past the enforcers stationed at the gate to their makeshift city all she wanted was her bed and something to nourish her… However as she crossed the market square she spotted Karst performing his usual routine in scamming her neighbours of everything they owned, which wasn't much to begin with… Usually, she gave him little attention, but today she was swayed over by the idea of fried shrimp and any other food that wasn't slime mold, pipe fungus, or inbred grox hounds… Although that last one was a luxury she could barely afford anyway.

Sabbat lingered on the edge of the crowd for a moment, working at the straps around her neck and face before finally freeing herself from the confines of her mask and helmet. She turned the mask over in her hands and stared at her reflection in the tinted armaglass of the visor, her frown was startling enough to spur people to apologize before she even spoke, and her smile was equally compelling, pale lips parting to expose white fangs that glistened in the dimly lit market, she used her reflection to guide her hand and wipe sweat from the pale, sharp features of her face with a gloved hand before she rose. Tucking her helmet and mask away into her backpack she ran her hand through her hair and pushed past the crowd to stare Karst down with grey, hazy eyes, a genetic quirk that some of the void-born had gained over the years. "A gallon for all of them is too much… Half a gallon, maybe…" She presumed he was talking about water, clean water… In truth, she tried to interact with people as little as possible, as half of the ship's inhabitants would stab her in the back for the chance to loot the fresh water she carried. She waited for an answer, presumably haggling with Karst until he gave her a fair price or shrugged her off completely.

It was only after their little discussion on shrimp prices did she move on to current events. "Karst… Have you heard the rumors of a navigator…? Surely if there was any truth to the myths you would have heard something on the upper decks, right…?" her voice had suddenly lowered, partly because she had raised her voice when her haggling with Karst as a means to demonstrate to the rest of her kind they could even haggle with traders… but partly because speaking of mutants, even mutants that could save the ship… was still frowned upon, at least openly, some things never changed in the Imperium... Even when isolated for generations.
Cyberpunk RP - TW: Drugs/Suicidal Themes: 'Her eyes were the colour of the sky at twilight, fading to darkness.'

Narcotics coursed through her bloodstream and silenced her intrusive thoughts, the guilt… the shame… The anxiety.

The water helped to wash away the physical aspects of the deed. The dirt… the grime, the blood that clung to her, desperate to remind her of the face that she had extinguished hours earlier.

The crimson pills had finally taken hold of the neurons in her brain, which flickered as they were snuffed out for the night, her blood cells and her immune system worked overtime to repair the damage she inflicted… At least her mind was quiet, for the first time in years...

She tried to move… Nothing… Her body didn't answer her, it was away… checked out, gone.
She couldn't keep her head above water.
She was slipping downwards, fingers trembling against the edge of the tub.
Even her neural shard had failed, its organic connection to her brain was non-responsive.
She took a final gasp for air.

Her eyes stared up through the water towards the ceiling of her bathroom, and her thoughts drifted to that of her parents, dead for years… She thought of seeing them again, the look in their eyes when they discovered she had drowned in her own bath water… A failure… A murderer... A drug user… Tears left her eyes and mixed with the water around her… She thought of her landlord, finding her corpse… Finding the largest collection of sensitive information in the world… Finding her true identity.

The news would come out…

The netrunner behind the 2072 stock market crash,
The famous Militech data heist...
The sacking of Arasaka's server banks…

One of the most infamous netrunners and information brokers of the world was a 26-year-old girl… A shut-in living in a one-bedroom apartment in Watson… An orphan… A nobody… A druggie that drowned in her bathtub…

Her thoughts finally turned to the man whose life she had snuffed out… It had taken 16 years to find him... since he had taken her family from her... the police did nothing… Trauma Team did nothing… The hospital couldn't treat them in time… Her parents suffered for hours before passing.

He didn't recognize her… it didn't matter.
His face was gone moments later, erased from the city… The world.

It didn't help.

She went to scream.
Water filled her lungs.

Her eyes blinked… and a figure appeared in her narrowing vision, its form dark with piercing red eyes… glaring down at her through the murky water, her vision shrunk to a point as the oxygen in her blood finally depleted.

"This is Twilight, We have Wren."

When her vision returned she was on her back, her bare skin pressed against the rough fibres of her carpet. She recognized the ceiling of her living room which doubled as her kitchen… She didn't recognize the women hunched over her, garbed from head to toe in red plastic, even their masks were a shade of crimson, one was feeding a tube down her throat while the other was busy preparing an IV line that led down to a needle piercing the skin of her forearm, where a small trickle of blood had already congealed in the palm of her hand, which still refused to wake to her commands.

"Wow… This is not what I was expecting... Have you seen her equipment, it's from the 2050's! Wait, is that her?" A metallic voice spoke up, it was a woman's… but artificial, every word that left her lips was modulated and emitted from a speaker, it was almost imperceivable, but if one listened, you could tell…. Just.

"Yea… Stop staring…" Another voice replied, it was deep and gruff and modulated through some kind of mask or helmet, and despite this… it sounded more 'real' than the other.

"How can I not, you guys didn't even bother to cover her with anything?!" The woman was right… Wren had just realized, she could barely shift her eyes downwards to glimpse her bare skin, naked to the world and the strangers in her apartment.

"She was flatlining in a bathtub… Why do you care?" The deeper voice replied before the familiar sound of her living room window opening could be heard.

"Because if we're going to recruit her we have to convince her first. Twilight… You can't just leave her like that." The metallic voice shot back, frustration edging into its tone.

Wren's ears perked at the voices that were just out of sight, she tried to turn her head without much success, one of the medic's hands had clamped around her cheek and shifted it back... "Don't move, we're flushing your system… And if you think about trying to fight one of us, I wouldn't."

The other medic, the one tending to the IV in her arm shifted away from her to the other side of the room, rifling through a medical bag as another figure moved into view and took their place at the girl's side "Wren… I am such a big fan…" The voice came from a woman who was more metal than flesh, it looked as though her entire body had been replaced with interlinking plates of steel and blackened titanium, at first glance her face looked human, but if one looked closer even that was artificial in a way. The woman's hand shifted up to Wren's neck to pull her neural shard from its socket, holding it up to her eyes as she spoke. "Sorry, but I don't want you deleting all of your hard work from the past decade just because some corporate goons are in your apartment~" she said with a smile on her face before she pocketed Wren's chip in her breast pocket.. permanently cutting her off from her personal data centers in the next room that contained enough evidence to put her away for hundreds of years…

"So! I know you can't speak right now but I am so excited to meet you! You know when you were cracking ice on Arasaka's counter-intel servers last week! I was the one trying to counter-hack you… To not much success, I thought you must've been a brain in a jar to work that fast… But the hardware you're using… it's older than you by the looks of it" Once more the woman's metallic hand moved to Wren's neck, only this time taking a grip of her jaw to tilt her head from side to side. "Wow! And you almost have no augmentations… Apart from that jack in your neck and those overlay optics… You know we've been trying to find the person responsible for that little trick you pulled with the global stock market for over five years! You wiped trillions of dollars off the system… All these holdings and stocks deleted from people's accounts…" The woman's eyes shifted, seeming to glare down at the girl for a moment before a bright smile appeared across her face, metallic teeth glimmering as she spoke with such enthusiasm "That was so awesome! I mean… I can't say that outside of this room, since I work for… Well… I'm sure you've figured it out by now! But I can't wait to pick your brain about how you did all this, out of this place as well!" Wren couldn't work out whether that was a subtle threat that implied she was about to be interrogated, or if she had been genuinely friendly.

Intrusion Countermeasures Electronics: ICE is a term used to describe security software and programs that protect individuals or infrastructure from being breached and hacked. Once ICE is breached/Cracked a netrunner has complete access to a corporations or individuals 'sub-net' and all the data contained inside. Trying to crack ICE is dangerous as the feedback can fry a person's synapses, resulting in injury or death.

"Hey! Aurora, stop fangirling over the criminal, you realized she killed a man tonight… She might try to kill you as well if you sit there long enough."

Wren had figured out who they were working for in her drug-induced haze… She had suspected it from the start since she had observed the crimson plastic of the medics when she awoke. but the prototype Kiroshi optics fitted into Aurora's eyes had confirmed it, Arasaka. There were far too many reasons to list why the megacorporation would want her dead, and almost none that explained why she was still alive.

'Aurora' seemed to roll her artificial eyes back into her skull for a moment in frustration before she looked up to the deep voice in the corner of the room. "That guy deserved it… Judging from his record he might be the one who flatlined her parents. And she wouldn't hurt me… Would you?" Aurora peered back down at Wren with a smirk on her artificial lips. "Oh yeah! I'm sure the boss will tell you when she gets here, but that's how we found you! After you scrubbed that guy's name from our database, we found a paper record… We didn't know why you had scrubbed his file in particular so we kept an eye on him, and then you turned up oh…. Six hours and thirty-three minutes ago and blew his head off… I guess you had kind of a grudge?! Anyway… That's the first time you've ever slipped up… And now we're here… Good thing too by the looks of you."

Aurora finally stood up, glancing at Wren's sofa before she grabbed a blanket and draped it over her before stepping across… "How long, Natalie?" Aurora's tone had shifted to one of subtle impatience as she squatted behind the medic tending to Wren, leaning her mechanical arms against her back, a drop of sweat ran down the medic's cheek as she murmured "Uh… The narcotics are being flushed from her system… we've given her some boosters… She'll be back up in a couple of minutes… tops…" Aurora seemed to shift more of her weight against her, glaring at her from behind before she replied with an abrupt. "Great!" jumping up moments later to her feet before she waved to Wren… "I'll get you some clothes! You don't mind me rifling through your bedroom, right?" she paused for a moment in the doorway with a smirk, waiting an answer that would never come... "Great! I'll go do that!"

It was several minutes later when Wren's feeling had returned to her, first came the cold brush of wind against her skin from the open window in her living room, and then she could twitch her fingers and toes… When the neurons in her brain finally began firing again she rolled over and emptied her stomach onto the carpet, hacking up nothing but water mixed with stomach acid… The tube had been removed from her throat a minute earlier, but still, it felt as though her entire windpipe had been scarred... She sounded akin to a dying person coughing up their last breaths before she finally fell quiet.. and looked up to the window, only for her eyes to stare straight down the barrel of a gun.

"If you try anything, I will end you here and we can just write your death off as a suicide."

Wren finally saw whom the voice belonged to, Twilight. He was a large man who towered over her, garbed in dark kevlar armor and black fabric, he wore a blackened helmet and a visor covered his face, the dark tint reflected the terrified look on Wren's face as she stared up at him in bewilderment.. ."I… I'm not… I... Noted." she stammered out reluctantly as she slowly set up crossed legged on the floor, tugging at the blanket around her shoulders to cover her entire body... The medics had left the room, where they had ventured to after that she couldn't say… But moments later 'Aurora' had stepped back in. "Oh! Sitting up, that's good." Wren found some clothes falling into her lap before Aurora joined Twilight by the window, who still had his weapon half raised at the girl as she glanced up at the two, her gaze shifting between her clothes and them... "Oh… She wants some privacy, look away Twi~" Aurora said as she looked up at him with a smirk on her face. "Yea… Turn my back on one of the most devious hackers in the city… Not happening." Aurora rolled her eyes as she looked back to Wren with a smile. "Give us a moment…" she turned back to Twilight, one hand moving to softly caress his side as she spoke up to him. "I told you, the tech she's using is ancient, without her neural shard she's basically just a normal person… she can't do anything, and she's just been resurrected from an OD, she's not running anywhere, and I'll keep an eye on her…" The last words were let out with a hushed whisper and with a grunt Twilight shifted his weight and looked out of Wren's window, staring down to the street level below as he perched himself on the window sill.

Wren herself seemed to pause to glare at the two with suspicion in her eyes, she kept her eyes on them as she pushed herself up onto the edge of her sofa and began to get dressed, Aurora's mechanical eyes never leaving her bare, exposed body… Her metal eyes were unblinking, she seemed less chatty now... As though something had changed in her personality when she returned from retrieving Wren some clothes, Although it all became clear when Wren finally looked up at her again after pulling her shirt over her head, there were reams of information spilling across Aurora's optics which caused Wren's heart to race… She didn't have to wait long for her fears to be confirmed… "Wooow Wren this data is crazy… I've only had a quick peek… You know, you left some of your latest files unencrypted in there.. Naughty… Militech schematics… lists of Arasaka agents… Oh look! We're here Twilight… Is that Senator Kreeton cheating on his wife? Where do you get all this stuff." Wren's eyes widened as she heard the incriminating evidence read out like it was the local headlines, pushing herself to her feet, she tried to move faster but her legs still seemed unwilling after the overdose. "H-Hey! That's my info… I worked hard and cracked a lot of sub-systems to get it and if you corporate fucks haven't killed me yet that means you need me for something, so cut it out." Aurora held up her hands with a smirk on her face as the blue flashes across her eyes ceased, smiling across the room at her. "I'm just teasing~ I mean… Like I said the boss will explain but we're going to end up working together anyway, so I'm going to see all of this…"

"I don't work with corpo's… I don't work for anyone."

The past twenty-four hours had been the most electrifying of Arasaka's counter-intelligence unit in months, Wren had hacked their servers a week before and pulled a man's record from their database, it didn't make sense to put herself in that much danger just to pull the record of a nobody, and in her rush and borderline mania, she hadn't covered her tracks on her exit of their cyberspace, part of her IP address had been left exposed and Arasaka finally knew the area where the infamous netrunner lived… she was in Night City, within driving distance of their office… When they discovered she was only living 3 blocks away, nobody could quite believe it, 'Wren' was brushing shoulders with Arasaka employees on the street every day, it was almost unbelievable, and even now Arasaka analysts were at their desks confirming her identity, double and triple checking all of their work…

The team had been watching the man that Wren had scrubbed the record of, Manis Telavery, since the hack with the vague hope Wren would show up, she had never been seen in person before, in fact, some people believed that Wren was multiple people, a radical movement whose motivations radically shifted from day to day, like a scatterbrained anarchist. One day she was selling corporate secrets to their rivals, the next she was hacking into that very same corporation to blackmail them… One day she was leaking government plans to spy on every citizen in the country and the next handing out private information to that very same government… It went from acts of political resistance against megacorporations and governments to taking their money the next day to sell out the people…

Much to their surprise someone unknown had turned up at Manis' door, she didn't look like a master netrunner, her dark hair was messy and cascaded over her shoulders with not much direction, and the leather jacket and matching pants she wore looked older than her, for a moment the team thought she was a whore who had come to collect. She looked desperate enough and was clearly under the influence, they all thought that right up until she put a hole through the man's face moments after the door swung open. At that point they all sat up in their chairs, they tried to check her background and facial recognition came back with nothing, which should have been impossible in the all-digital age, they stalked her home, and she stopped to buy… something from a man on the street, they found her drowning after kicking her door down… After that, everything was confirmed.

Wren's real name was Ivy Praxis… Although that wasn't surprising, everyone had an alias these days, after they had discovered her name on the mail piled up beside her door, everything else unraveled… In the time they had spent reviving her, they had learned her entire life's story, well… Enough to piece it together, Wren had been thorough in scrubbing her digital records, but paper records were always the weakness of a netrunner without someone on the streets to destroy them. Her family had emigrated to Night City at some point in the 2040s, it wasn't clear where they had come from, they had just appeared on public records one day… Her father had worked in a medical clinic, treating cyberpsychosis for the local community while her mother was a promising researcher at Biotechnica, they both had promising lives until they were cut short by a random gunman looking for enough cash for a high in the pits of their wallets, leaving Ivy behind.

She had fallen through the cracks of what was left of the social net after that, she was moved between orphanages as she grew older, just at the age prospective parents didn't want to take her, but not enough to take care of herself, she became increasingly troublesome to those who did care for her, bullying the other orphans, sneaking out after curfew… At the age of 15 she left the last house that would take her, they didn't bother trying to track her down. She showed up two years later, renting a tiny one-bedroom apartment in Watson, the same one that she built her reputation out of… It started small, hacking her building network to mess with the elevators, it was fun… it was something she could do… Then came the jobs… Bypass a warehouse's security doors for heists… Hack into NCPD alert system to distract the cops from a real crime… It only escalated, she would spend hours jacked in, alone on her bedroom floor while she hacked the Pentagon… Arasaka Tower, Militech Headquarters… Money flowed in, and with it… the drugs… the tech, she preferred old tech, it was harder to trace… almost every hour of every day was spent in cyberspace dodging hunter-killer viruses and cracking ICE… It was addictive, it was the only thing she was good at.

One day she finally began unboxing some old things from her past life… Her childhood blanket, an old pair of headphones she used to wear at night to listen to rain noise… It drowned out the sounds of idle engines and honking cars… A picture of her parents. At this point, she had hacked some of the most secure servers in the world… Her bank accounts had more than enough to support her for the rest of her life… but still, it wouldn't bring her parents back, that was almost a year ago when she put out the feelers to her contacts to find him, the rest was recent history...

"Boss… You can come up now, she's stable… and compliant enough."

Twilight interrupted Wren's daydreaming, she didn't realize she had been staring at the floor for minutes… She wasn't sure why, maybe it was the shock waves of the drug still reverberating around her system, she had been convinced that the Arasaka goons standing in her living room would have dragged her off by now, 'black bagging' her before hauling her off to some dimly lit basement for questioning… But no, Aurora had continued to make idle chatter with her and Twilight, who seemed to want nothing to do with the girl.

Anarchia · Tuesday at 12:50 PM

Just a new writing sample and a lil bump~

Fx Any Anarchy, Blood and Lies. - Story Heavy plots with obsessive and flawed personalities.

Anarchia

Observer

Anarchia

Observer