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Neon Hearts in Derelict Futures [Briar & AlrunaRose]

Therrye's expression tightened at the sound of pain and clutch of her side, which laid in line with what had driven her to adjust her tactics and push for victory despite that. She did not expect fussing over the samurai to go over well, though, so she did not comment on it yet. At the thanks, the bruiser nodded with recognition.

A moderate smirk came to her as she remembered her recent bouts with Bethsket. There was no denying their intensity, or the friendly fun she had in them -- yet she also hadn't gone the way Aolieon did even when presented with her own blood. "What we leave in the past and what we carry into the present is always a choice. If we need to retrieve what we rightfully chose to bury just to win, we've lost something else in the bargain." A pause followed those words, memories rolling over knuckles like a familiar coin, and she shrugged good-naturedly. "But sometimes we forget the important things, too."

Listening to her long aside about fighting, and fighting with friends, the nodded only a little at the end of it, though she'd given her attention plenty. She considered her words, the blend of past and present emotions taking a particular shape that yet remained vague in places. "I can't disagree with any of that, or find fault in its wisdom. However," her gaze shifted aside, remembering recent words, "fighting belongs to the realm of violence, whether to enact it or prevent it. Life holds so much more than that thrill, let alone the pursuit of becoming the perfect weapon."

Looking back, she helped up the dancer, her mood still fairly light. She grinned sheepishly at the return callout, brushing past the mention of friendship. "Yeah, I got a little heated." It became lopsided and she winced a little again at the sight of her holding her side. "Sorry about that," she added with genuine remorse and a nod toward her chest, though it wasn't overwrought or belabored. The flirt that followed was unexpected, however, and a short pause preceded a small laugh and shake of her head. "Are you sure you aren't projecting?" she said slyly.

At her new mentor's return, Therrye bowed her head. "Thank you, Matuso-san." Observing the words between them, the bruiser grinned again. "Guess I'll be seeing you around, then." She popped a Bounce Back, inhaling deeply while her eyes temporarily dilated; it'd certainly help with healing the internal damage she'd undoubtedly sustained from the bout. A full-body icepack felt appropriate given her thrashing, but really, she'd dealt with plenty worse. There was nothing to complain about.

"You're still injured, though," she pointed mildly at Aolieon. "And seeing as I won," she gave a cheeky smile, "how about you get a checkup from a doc? I'll even carry you there, free of charge." She winked boldly at the end, pointing back some of the dancer's earlier salaciousness, though she was certainly lighter about it.
 
Aolieon rolled her eyes, chuffing at her philosophical musings, "I imagine you've been non-stop training here, since that lovely night -- you're to sound like him," she commented lowly, furrowing her brow as she slowly moved to get up, accepting the help of the bruiser. She sighed, dusting herself off and expertly taking the Bounce Back and Dorph, injecting and inhaling at the same time as if by some sort of subconscious habit. Her eyes dilated, and she wiggled a little bit at the sensation -- taking the moment to enjoy it since she wasn't in immediate danger -- she also had some stuff she needed to do, but heard the concern in the bruiser's voice.

"Ohh, honey, there's not many ripperdocs that can service a body like mine, baby," she winked, already feeling loads better as the drugs rolled over her. "... plus, i think its just a minor crack. So long as i dont curl up in a ball anytime soon, I'll be fine," she managed a smile and thought back to something she mentioned. "I think I could use something a little relaxing, though. How about that rooftop vista you mentioned awhile back?" she leered a little bit at Therrye, lightly tugging on her arm. "Wouldn't mind me being so close to home again, would ya?" she teased, giggling a bit before her expression sharpened into something serious. "I do need to drop something off back at my place, though -- something i dont want lying around. Kenji?" she called out across the mats -- he nodded, moving towards the backrooms again, Aolieon following quickly behind. It wasn't long before she had come back out in all of her Runner gear and with all of her stuff -- not wanting to keep the bruiser waiting and completely forgetting that she wanted to go to the range, she had flung her backpack on and only hastily rewrapped Kyokushin, not bothering to do the peace knot and simply wrapping it enough that it couldn't immediately be recognized at first glance -- even then, the sword itself looked like an ominous piece of high-tech craftsmanship for sure.

'"I had plans to do some other shopping and stuff, but that can wait until later," she volunteered, brushing her hair out and making it look shades more presentable. She bit her lip a bit concerned for her other plans, but one more look at Therrye and another brush of her hair behind one of her horns and she had reconciled her schedule quite easily. "If you must take me to a doctor you trust enough to hook me up with stuff that'll help with much faster recovery -- I won't say no, but..." she spontaneously took one of Therrye's hands and sighed with a note of reluctance but also a glimmer of hope in her eyes. She looked off to the side, recognizing something she said earlier. "I guess I can try to settle down, take things a bit easy for a spell," she moved a bit closer though, biting her lip again but stopping as she cocked an eyebrow and let the mirth back in her face. "... I dunno, though -- I could use a bit more convincing."
 
"Really?" The bruiser chuckled, rather amused. "I just started here this morning, but maybe Matsuo-san's been a great fit for me this entire time." A very different sort of wink accompanied that comment, but it was, perhaps, a little teasing at the samurai.

Some of her warmth and good cheer faded at the mention of going back to Joege Block to enjoy the view from the roof. Those memories would remain bittersweet for awhile, possibly a very long while, and Aolieon's casual flirting about it was just another reminder of how little care she gave anything she'd expressed to the woman. She'd already felt plenty foolish for slipping into that sort of vulnerability, let alone sharing any of it with her, and opening that back up sounded more like a grenade pin than a pop can. Even though guilt and affection could motivate her intensely where she was concerned, that felt much healthier from a distance. Letting her get close again?

With how she took the bruiser's hand, bit her lip and stepped closer, flickers of warning brushed up her thoughts, even as some color touched her cheeks. Given how much honesty looked like one weapon in the arsenal of the femme fatale's manipulation instead of something to live by, the whole maneuver from her felt more like being played than anything else. Glancing aside from her, she stifled a sigh into a quiet exhale, not wanting to show off more of those emotions than felt warranted. Returning her gaze to the Liandri, she presented a modest smile. "Feels like I owe you a trip to my ripperdoc." A short pause, as a great push and pull of impulses and emotions played out across the hooks in her. Compromises were made, as they often were where she cared about the people involved, and all the moreso when her pulse reminded her just how much it yearned for the woman in front of her. "If it means you'll stress the injury less, I'm happy to drive you around today." Her smile widened as she gave a pointed, though not unfriendly, look, "Assuming none of those errands involve more damage to your ribs."
 
When hearing that Therrye had only started today at Yami no Ken Ryuu, Aolieon turned, wide-eyed in a mildly baffled look at her. She blinked, looking like her chipped horns had grown into something else more pleasurable on the spot. She then looked away and shook her head. "How do I keep finding you "Wise Old Owl" types in the dumpster?" Aolieon chuffed and looked back at her with a half-smile, mouth agape. "You're fucking weird, Therrye... I'd be amazed, but that would mean acknowledging you as a natural," she reached a hand up, ruffling her hair a bit. "Wouldnt want that showstopper you call a head to get too big, now would we?" Aolieon followed up with a belly laugh, but then mildly clutched her side and scoffed sharply, more frustrated than she was in pain. "Fuck..."

She sighed as she got herself back under control, adjusting the sword on her back and then double checked her gear. Once she nodded in satisfaction, she nodded in affirmation then rolled her eyes at Therrye. "I guess I'll go meet your doc, then. But let's stop by my place; let me put this sword away, first -- can't afford to lose it," she concluded, making sure it wouldnt fall underneath the ride of the bike. She smiled up at Therrye, biting her lip a bit again, recalling something pleasant. "You still remember the way?" she gestured out the door, waiting to follow her back to her bike. "If you want, I can flick you something else, if ya like," she jeered, teasing the bruiser. When they got to the bike, she'd wait to see what Therrye would do -- then she'd frown and mount the bike herself, quietly disappointed that she didn't do what she did last time.

When they got to her apartment complex, she sighed flightily and started dismounting before the bike came to a full stop. "Probably best you wait out here; im just dropping off my stuff," she noted, calmly walking to enter the semi-rustic apartment complex. "Don't ghost me, alright? Gimme like two minutes, I promise Ill be back," hustling up thr stairs with a mildly complaining rib, she entered her apartment -- she would have taken a handful of shots to the dome, but for some reason she didn't even think to do that; tossing her bag on the undressed bed and pausing just long enough to put Kyokushin in his sword stand proper. She lowered her head casually and reverently before grabbing another cred-chip on the way out (her flush one) and she hustled down the stairs to meet the bruiser once more. Something about her seemed... off. She had begun to notice it shortly after they had finished talking and something about it pulled taut a ribbon or two in her chest. Still, she kept up the personality and facade -- still thinking that was something Therrye found charming.
"Alright... let's see this ripperdoc of yours that you think you owe me. I dont usually have good luck with ripperdocs, so those meds either better be preem, or they better be good-looking," Aolieon was jesting of course, but it melted away quickly as to be attentive to the bruiser -- the dancer herself was mulling over and still spinning cams in her head, trying to wrap her brain around all the information she had just acquired about the bruiser... and yet something else felt off; as if there had been an adaptation to reality that really didn't work out in her favor.
 
Therrye gave her a bemused look as she expounded on her internal responses but shook her head and gestured a little dismissively. "Arrogance kills faster than Max-Tac." At the belly laugh, the bemusement grew, but then slipped into a bit of a wince at her pain. The guilt was going to keep being like this, wasn't it? Hopefully not so much, soon enough.

"... more or less," she replied, chuffing and shaking her head at the flirt. "I need to change. Sec."

No longer in thin workout gear and back in a proper jacket -- clearly a different one than the last Aolieon had seen her in -- she pulled on her helmet and got on the bike, once again getting the thought that she should have one that'd actually fit the dancer. Sighing at the impulse, she pulled up a map of the city, looked at the address of the Geraldi black site, panned through some streets, pondered it, placed a marker, and got on her way.

It took her only a few extra turns and some backtracking to get there; she remembered the pathing and environment better than she expected, given her anger at the time, and just chalked it up to luck. Therrye nodded to the first comment, then frowned at the second, though Aolieon wouldn't have been able to see it through the helmet. "Not a chance, dancer." This time she took a proper look at her surroundings. The building itself was both more and less than she might have expected, and she narrowed her eyes in scrutiny. Something about it rubbed her the wrong way -- like it wasn't supposed to be there. Filing that away, she took note of closer and distant landmarks and glanced back at her map. Zooming out, she placed a pin opposite of the address to leave it between the pin and her own apartment; it was more surreptitious than she usually went for, but given the malware Aolieon had already put on her, she was feeling more concerned about security. Best not leave it to chance.

Looking back toward her, she turned the engine again. Chuffing at her remark, she replied before hitting the accelerator, "Kara's pretty nova." A faint pause. "Been inside me more times than you," she added with an enigmatic smirk. It was a cruder sort of tease than she usually went for, but being back here, where she'd first felt that fury of betrayal... something stung. She went harder than normal down the streets, using the speed as a fine way to burn some of her energy; still, she kept the ride as smooth as she could to not throw some big jostles the dancer's way. No matter what small perturbations might come up in her, Aolieon's health wasn't going to be something she forgot or stopped caring about.

Quick-dialing the ripperdoc with some eye gestures, she got a pickup on the fourth ring; she wasn't sure where she might be tonight, and it was borderline possible she wasn't on shift yet. "Yeah?" came a curiosity-laced voice inside her ear. "Hey, Kara. Where are you at tonight?"


Two bridges later, the bike slowed carefully until coming to a stop outside the Northeast Doc Ryder's. Waiting for Aolieon to dismount, she followed, stowing the helmet. If the samurai was particularly observant, she would have noticed the Kolac, ammo and grenades she'd stuffed into the compartment; it was a tight fit for the full kit, but Sid had made it work. Nodding toward the door with a glance at the woman and a modest smile, she opened it and held it for her.

The ripperdoc raised her brows at the sight of the two Liandri entering. She was still turning everything on and getting the shop up and running. "You didn't tell me you were bringing a guest." "Didn't want to keep you." "Mmm. Neither of you look terribly perforated. Almost seems ominous. Getting some new chrome?" Therrye glanced to the side with a sheepish smile. "Actually, was hoping you could give her a once over." Looking back to Aolieon, she gestured in introduction. "This is Kara. Best set of hands to have digging around in your guts." "Such flattery." She shrugged, not at all deterred by her manner, as per usual. "Just the facts. Kara, this is Aolieon."

Aolieon had a bad history when it came to ripperdocs -- their profession had both been instrumental in maintaining a life she once wanted to live more than anything, and also tainted her life with especially depraved designs at the behest of handlers depraved moreso -- at least this office looks more homey and commercial; not like Cipher's, she thought to herself. Hearing the banter between Kara and Therrye was a little off-putting, but she offered a fake smile and a handshake. "Charmed, I'm sure..."

"Nice to meet you. So, what's the ailment?" "Probable rib fracture." The ripperdoc clucked her tongue. "Won't be very fun if it needs an internal splint."

Aolieon face went numb, almost apathetic briefly at the thought of being cut open -- plenty of sore memories from that. "I'm sure it's just a light fracture. Nothing some good meds, some ice and some breathing therapy can't handle... but do what ya have to, I guess."

She patted the medical seat and turned on the scanning machinery. "Let's have a look, then." Her fingers gestured beckoningly. "Less synth-vinyl, more skin." Once there wasn't a barrier layer between the relevant flesh and device, the rays of the scanner began filtering over the Liandri.

Aolieon reluctantly unzipped her Runner's jumpsuit, letting her gear fall to the floor to be reduced down to her lace skivvies; a sight all too familiar to the bruiser. She slowly clambered into the chair, and sat firmly in the chair, looking meek and unpleasant. Still, she allowed her to scan nonetheless, thoughts stirring of things beneath her skin she had hoped wouldn't be questioned about, and Aolieon was prepared to bail on this whole operation if and whenever they came up.

Kara quirked a brow and glanced over at the dancer, eyeware lensing while she finely inspected some of her body. Holographic displays were mildly visible over her pupils, filled with data -- but the ripperdoc didn't otherwise move or say anything for a full minute. ".... everything okay?" Aolieon couldn't help but fidget and look perturbed, tensing herself in preparation for any question she wasnt willing to answer. "What's wrong?"

Tapping the scanning device to turn it off, she sat back as her eyeware lensed back to normal. "Fracture's small. You've the right of it." A mild smile was offered toward Aolieon. "But you came out, so I won't leave you empty-handed." Opening a drawer near her, she perused it quietly then pulled out a thin injector and a small bottle. Attaching a fresh needle to the injector, she screwed on the bottle, and brought the tip between two of the dancer's ribs. "Small pinch." Some concern yet remained in Therrye, who observed their interactions quietly.

Aolieon immediately shut her eyes, working her best to meditatively still her breath, looking away as if she was a child uncomfortable with needles. "Just... get it over with."

Gently angling the tip in through the flesh with a smoothness few manage in subcutaneous injections, she slid it in through the top layers of skin before darting an injection a further quarter of an inch deeper. "It'll knit faster than counter chems, but you should still give it some rest." Withdrawing the needle carefully, the ripperdoc detached the components of the injector, stowed them and tossed the tip into a sharps container. The bruiser exhaled then, releasing the tension gathered from having watched it in Aolieon's responses.

Aolieon inhaled sharply, whimpering lightly as she gripped the chair tightly. Despite all of her reactions, she managed to (relatively) remain a good patient. "Not bad... appreciate it. What did you say your name was again?"

"Kara." A warmer smile "I'd offer you a lollipop, but they stopped shelling out for them." "You've never offered me a lollipop." "Didn't think you'd ever need one, chica."

Aolieon chuckled lightly, reabsorbing the whole venue in a different light. "Alright, then. A Doc Ryder type, huh? This your normal place of work?" -- Aolieon squinted her eyes and mildly leered at Kara; little ripperdoc was kind of cute.

Kara's expression was friendly enough, but also all business. "Cheaper than trying to buy my own shingle." A slightly rueful smile at that. "Worked all of the Ryder spots in NC by now." "That'll make you harder to pin down. You get many 'ganics that don't wanna get chipped often?"

She shook her head. "Get all types, though." Turning to pick up a small white ball, she held it before and depressed a button on it, displaying a holographic card into the air. "Scan it and you've got my work number. I stick to the night shifts."

Aolieon clicked her tongue, wishing she had brought her Cyberdeck glasses. Embarrasingly, she pulled out her datapad, switching to an app and using a rusted, limited range scanner to record Kara's detes. "Duly noted. Least I know who to call whenever lil' Joanna Beef over here decides to get shot in the abdomen again." She turned cast a wink at Therrye.

Therrye made a face. "Sounds like you're already chooms." The bruiser chuffed and shook her head. "Sweetest visit I've ever seen from you." "Polite patients get the nice treatment."
Another chuffs and a smile. "Don't think I'd have ever described Aolieon as polite-" "I was polite with you at first... relatively speaking. And you're not supposed to sass the people who replace your organs." "Were you now." It was clearly not a question. "Mmm. Maybe not chooms, then." Therrye gave her a sidelong look. "Nope, not saying anything. Out you two go."

Aolieon let out a giggle at the display of derision. "Ohh, hey -- how much I owe ya?" Aolieon's thoughts spun with anticipated calculations. "Also, do you do pick-ups and or medical emergencies?" She pulled out a black cred-chip, under which she held a professional motherlode of professional savings. The bruiser waved way her cred chip, scanning her own. "I got it." Kara, meanwhile, considered a response before answering. "I don't usually do house calls." A shrug. "Won't get mad if you ask, but we leave the pick-ups to Trauma Team."

"Then consider this paying it forwards, just-in-case. I know we just met, but... girl like me, can't afford to leave anything to chance, and one day -- you might be the only one who picks up the phone," she wired 10,000 eddies to her, using her black cred-chip which housed her professional savings. "...a professional courtesy. If you normally charge more, just say the word."

Her eyebrows raised and then she glanced over at Therrye, who shrugged in response. "How 'auspicious'." Brushing a finger through the air, she manipulated something through the gestures. "Note's added." A warier smile followed. "Anything else you'd like to pay for in advance?"

"That'll be all. Thanks for seeing me. And thanks for footing the bill, bruiser." She tapped Therrye's shoulder, smiling a little bit teasingly. "'course." She smiled warmly. "Appreciate the business." A quiet snort of amusement followed in the direction of the bruiser. "Feel free to bring 'round more 'friends', chica." "I thought you didn't want me coming back with extra holes." "And you didn't this time, did you?" "Fair point." She laughed easily, here; it wasn't hard for the dancer to notice her comfort around the ripperdoc.

Aolieon dismissed her sweetly with a sultry finger wave. "Bye, Doc."
 
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Outside of the Doc Ryder clinic, Therrye walked back to her bike and paused at it, turning back toward Aolieon. "Are you alright?" There were clear notes of concern in her voice; the dancer had expressed quite a bit of discomfort with her body while in there, and it was a new thing indeed -- another to add to the day -- to see in her.
Aolieon chuffed, seemingly returning to a state of comfortability when they left the ripperdoc "Don't be so worried." She punched her shoulder lightly, putting a little work into lightening the moment. "I'm a big girl, I can handle myself," Fluffing her hair to get it back behind her and retouch her aesthetic, she turned a warm smile on the bruiser.
The bruiser gave her an inquisitive look, seeing if there were more glints of information in her responses. Then she offered a respectful nod, replying evenly. "Yeah. I know. So, what's next on your errands, then?"
Aolieon shrugged casually, playing the whole situation off so casually and with expert masking. "I was gonna hop to the range today, but you kinda put a damper on that..." she would huff, and step closer to the bruiser, looking up into her eyes for a second. "I'd... really rather not go home. Is there somewhere you'd maybe... like to just chillax for a bit?"

She chuffed and made a pained smile. "Eesh. Never going to body slam you again." Laughing a little self-consciously, a touch of blush on her cheeks, she then exhaled out some of her tension. "Well, if you have nothing else you'd rather be doing." The woman paused with some consideration before replying. "Ocean, ruins, or roof?"
"Ohh, please." Aolieon clutched her side, remembering the breathing therapy from other stints where this happened and how necessary it was for keeping things in alignment and preventing organ damage. She took a deep breath, exhaling quite slowly without any wheezing to indicate anything was wrong. Finally, she let her breath settle casually, but forced a cough, to get her diaphragm back to doing its job but prevent it from being perforated. "...not my first cracked rib. Plus, you know empty life would be, if I couldnt be manhandled like that? Absolutely tragic; might shoot my own kneecaps out, just to feel loved..." Aolieon's expression got very pouty, in a completely sardonic teasing manner. She'd then giggle a bit and brush Therrye's shoulder. "I'm not made of plastic, Therrye. And... It's been a minute since I've seen the sea." Uncharacteristically, Aolieon would go in for a light hug around the torso -- being careful not to linger for too long right now, as to test the waters and quietly gage where Therrye was at when it came to feelings about her. "Let's go."
Therrye shook her head and smirked mildly. "Yes, it'd be so terrible if you could rest without broken bones." At her various expressions and words, a mix of emotions bled out. Some sass, some concern, some grave concern, and some wariness; blending together, it put her in an uncertain place where there wasn't much to say. When Aolieon hugged her, her brow furrowed with surprise and confusion. Though she'd been edging closer to her, this sign of affection seemed out of character from what had happened between them last, before the Dojo. Even at the Dojo... she was at a bit of a loss of what to think, and while part of her very much wanted to feel more of her skin against her own, the rest had drawn away for very valid reasons.
The dancer had made her wishes clear. She wasn't going to aim back into something more entangled with the Liandri, however much the hooks in her heart tugged. "... sure."
 
🎼 Citizen Sleeper OST - Sleeper

Some weight lingered in her body, and not from all the bruises, either. You might not know it, but you just died three times -- four, if a car happened to be coming by. Words trickled through her with far more punch than anything the dancer had given her on the mats -- not because she couldn't deliver on that threat outside the concert, but because Therrye didn't care lastingly about broken bones and loosed blood. Earth's neon future offered plenty of ways to recover from damage to the body, and besides, she'd long accepted the headlong plunge into violence and suffering. something about you makes my body move in ways I've never known to be of my own free will, and I hate that. Wounds mattered little, ultimately. Aolieon was plenty right. They both lived lives of 'walking it off', of accepted risks, of harder-than-plastic durability.

I hate that
I hate that
I hate that

Yet here again, ribbons were drawing over her skin in brief, silky whispers. You wanted to be alone, dancer. Why are you trying to press so close? Therrye did not expect there to be any resolution to her feelings. Once hooked, she would bleed, and the only way to minimize that was to avoid what planted the hooks in the first place. She could not fully heal over the wound they caused anymore than she could tear the hooks out.

I'm out of your league; you're too good for me. It did not line up with the fact of the heat pressed up against her back. She'd already come readily by the conclusion that Aolieon lied as easily as she breathed, and yet she'd struggled to say those words that night. There was such conflict in pulling them out of herself that the pain was unmistakable. Even in all of her anger that night, she saw that. But that didn't stop her from saying those things.

Blaming her for being angry at her wasn't in the cards; she'd snapped first. She did hold her plenty accountable for those decisions, though, and she accepted what she said at face value. In matters of the heart, even when she could tell someone was lying, accepting what someone expressed was giving them respect. Honoring their autonomy. Everyone gets to choose how they play their hand, and she'd never arm wrestle someone into being honest with their feelings. If they aren't ready, they aren't ready; if they'd rather hide, they'd rather hide. People had reasons for going against their own happiness, anyway, fleeting and few as such opportunities were.

So why the fuck is she acting like she didn't say any of that?

The bruiser gave a deep exhale and slowly blinked, unable to distract herself any further from the task of driving without giving unacceptable risk to her passenger. Spiraling through these feelings wasn't going to make anything easier for her, and Aolieon made herself opaque through her messiness and internal conflict. Cracking that mystery felt pointless, and while that wouldn't stop her from inevitably drawing toward it again, she could set it aside for now. She felt she owed the woman some cheer, anyhow, and that was the best way to alleviate her own guilt.


Her destination for them was two districts away. Nearer to where she approached the ocean, buildings steadily looked more ramshackle and aged. Tenements crowded and concrete towers, some hollowed out even, filled much of the space. Compared to most of Night City, this was closer to real slums and decaying, abandoned structures. It wasn't quite there, yet the resemblance was unmistakable.

Slowing down and glancing around, Therrye brought the bike to a stop in front of what looked like two towers nudged into each other. The gap between them was rather small, and almost missable from the street, particularly since trash and debris nearly completely filled the space. Sliding off after Aolieon, the bruiser selected a point on her map and then started the bike's auto-drive to take it away from their location; it was rather unsafe to leave a vehicle here unattended. "Come on," she said to the dancer, managing a small, conspiratorial smile. Walking over to the messy stack, she rooted around on the side of the building behind some boxes and then gripped something unseen. Hoisting herself up, she pushed some boxes aside and climbed onto a makeshift ladder that went half a story up. Once near the top, one could see a tiny set of stairs bolted into the side of the building that led around its side and down. From here, overlooking the garbage that filled that alley, a downward slope into the waters of the ocean was visible.

Stepping onto the narrow path, she leaned into the wall and stepped along it sideways, winding her way down the building's side until getting to the curve of its corner. Therrye hazarded a few glances back at Aolieon just to make sure she was following and making it alright, though in truth, her more rational brain knew she'd be fine; her concern was all reflexive emotion.

Coming around the side, she dropped down onto actual dirt that was behind the tower. A small, switchback slope lay behind it, drawing all the way down to the water a story or so below. Waiting at the building corner for the dancer to touch the dirt, she then walked down the slope toward the water's edge. "Some streetkids showed me this little spot back when I lived near here," she offered up after the stretch of quiet. Therrye's voice held some fondness for the memory. "They checked in on me often in those days; probably because I kept giving them sweets," she mused with echoes of old mirth. "Usually they'll show up midday or at night," she noted with a check of the hour. "... first time I saw a kite was here, strung high by tied plastic threads. They were all sewn or melted together from scraps and salvage. That never stopped them, though," and her smile grew with nostalgia while she looked up toward the sky. "Saw some of the better spots to find scraps in the dumps with them." An exhale, then, as she wondered how their lives had turned after she'd left. She knew she wasn't an important fixture for them -- or, at least, she believed as such -- but caring lingered inexorably for her in so many ways. Might as well be a fishing net for all the hooks in me, she mused a little bleakly. Most of them were small, at least, and held pleasant reminders at that.

After a few moments, she glanced back again while they neared the path's bottom and the water's edge, "I know it's not much, but it's always been peaceful here." Therrye brightened a little when stood close to the water, gaze shifting between the lapping waves and the horizon. Something in it eased her tension, and she straightened a little more, relaxed into the sight of it all, and let her thoughts drift away with the sea breeze.
 
... There was always something to be said that could never be denied about the feeling if riding bitch on a motorcycle. But for Aolieon, it wasnt just the feeling of her long aluminum curtain frolicking in the wind, or the feeling of the vibrations in her loins -- this was a special feeling. A sensation which could be likened in comfort, the same way that adults still might suck their thumbs and self-soothe. This was a symbol of freedom, of protection, and safety; even when the world was exploding and howling with the sounds of violent wars, this feeling of holding someone you felt you could trust as they ran through the streets of Night City... it lavished upon the mind gentle stanza of poetry that paid homage to better times and a selection of memories across a painter's palette that hurt to feel -- only this was one that didn't hurt to feel.

When Therrye came to this decrepit section of the waterfront, Aolieon was no doubt softly curious, but she navigated the pile of trash with about as much ease as Therrye had shown. Carefully she made her way behind her -- and stopped to appreciate the view of the sunset on the waters, her breath silently having been taken away. She looked around at the dirt front, and quietly appreciated it -- she looked at herself donned in Runner's gear, and wrinkled her nose -- not liking that she was overdressed for this occasion. She tapped a few keys on her datapad, quietly calling her wardrobe drone over to her location, deciding that there was a singular item in it she'd rather be wearing in such a private location such as this.

She quietly listened to Therrye's words, regarding then reverently. "It's nice," she began, offering a smile and nodding with her words, which caused minor flutters in her chest, hearing how fondly she spoke of those kids. "Sounds like they meant a lot to you... a kite sure sounds like something interesting to see," she spoke softly, sighing at the revelation and feeling a bit warm -- and altogether not wishing to be wrapped up in this skin-tight synth-vinyl all the more because of it and how secluded this location felt.
She hesitated as her little wardrobe drone floated up and stopped just shy of them -- realizing that Therrye hadn't seen this rusted rinky-dink floater before, she immediately volunteered, "It's okay -- it's mine," in a low tone of voice. She paused as she approached it; not knowing whether or not the garment she was thinking of was something she wanted to remember the feeling of... but another thought came to her, lost over the years and appearing in its time of need...
... When things get really tough, and it feels like you can't at all revisit certain experiences, especially if they're something so simple as enjoying life or eating -- it may be best to make an attempt to overwrite those memories. It's not in anyone's best interest to cling to the past so strongly that one cannot even exist without bringing up painful memories...

Sighing heavily as she lowered her eyelids, she popped open one of the compartments stuffed full of 'clean' garments. She ruffled around in them slowly... and pulled out a pale lilac knit-sweater, looking like a homespun Aran sweater that an old Nomad might have made for her grandson upon hearing they were venturing further north. Aolieon exhaled through her nose, gently throwing it on over her head -- the threads felt plush and super-soft over her head, but the entire sweater looked three sizes too big for her... almost like a maternity sweater.
Without another word, she reached underneath the sweater and unzipped her Runner's gear; pulling it off systemically and carefully and letting it fall to the ground beneath her. She pulled her feet out of the heels, and it could now clesrly be seen that the hemn of this sweater came to mid-thigh and the sleeves went past her own hands. She put the jumpsuit away, stowing the many knives and other small gadgets away for easy access... after a couple of thoughts, she powered down the drone and let it plop on the ground.

With nothing but a sweater on proverbially speaking -- Aolieon could now appreciate the feeling of the dirt between her barefoot toes. She huffed lightly at the whole thing, feeling the grainy but soft, dusty textures -- she didn't know what to think at first, but she thought she liked it. She'd walk up to Therrye and step close to her, looking around and taking all the sights in -- part of her wanted to go out and wade in the water's edge, but she felt that wasn't quite right just yet... she smiled up at Therrye, "This is real nice -- I've got some spots like this I know; maybe I'll share some day later, but..." she smiled, moving to stand next to her and look out over the water. "Thanks for bringing me here. I didn't think it'd be this nice, but... It is." a moment of silence purveyed them for a handful of minutes -- as time went on, she'd quietly listen to anything more Therrye had to share, but she'd slowly nudge herself closer to practically lean on the bruiser -- after awhile, she'd slowly grab Therrye's hand and interface her fingers between them, just watching the sunset as it slowly moved to glaze it's rays over the waters and wiggling her toes a little bit in the dirt...
 
Therrye gave a soft, warm chuff at her words about them, and the kite. "Kids are kind of the best of us," she replied, those memories never having been sad ones. "Menaces sometimes, but it's hard not to love their wonder and excitement." A pang hung in her chest, as she was reminded of certain areas of her life she'd shoved past arms length. It was too dangerous for anything so fragile to be close enough to her to suffer fallout. That would have been a regret she'd have struggled to ever survive if children were harmed because of her proximity.

Looking over at the ramshackle drone warily, she nodded and eased up at Aolieon's claiming of it. Still, she inspected it visually, curious about it. Most of her experience with drones was combat scenarios; this one seemed downright friendly in comparison. Watching her withdraw a sweater from it, so large in size, made her wonder. The curiosity only grew at seeing its full, dwarfing size on her, and at her stripping beneath it. Brows furrowed with some confusion, but only mildly.

Something rattled around in the back of her mind, tapping physical and visual memory of a certain scar. Therrye's experience around any expecting children was only just shy of nil, though, and certain connections failed to fire.

Glancing down at her bare feet, she couldn't help but smile at her toes playing in the dirt. The bruiser couldn't even remember touching dirt until she was in her 30s, and had scant been able to even see some before then. It had never been something to take for granted. Her gaze trailed the sweater's pattern and texture, then, with a gentle sort of interest before looking back to the water.

"I'm glad you like it," she said simply and earnestly. There was a simple pleasure in showing off special things to others, even if they didn't see the same sort of wonder and beauty in it. She hadn't a clear idea of whether or not the dancer would appreciate it, and it made her smile that she did. Therrye didn't hold assumptions that she'd be 'too good' for something like this... it was more that she didn't seem like she went in for the little things. The small joys. The bits between everything that made the daily grind so much easier, and gave color to the entire fabric of a life's memories.

That the Liandri might share some of such things in return wasn't expected, nor quite believed. All of this had felt more like a détente amidst a neutral zone, that would flutter away like the trash in the alley as soon as the moment was disturbed. The bruiser didn't lean into it because she'd already been told to back off, and doing so would be as gonk as choosing to hold one's hand over a fire.

In the middle of brushing fingers over the pleasant events in her sunrise days, she started getting more aware of Aolieon inching closer to her again. It was fairly offputting; she'd slapped her metaphorical hand for trying to get close, and was now acting like she'd wanted it all along. Feeling the dancer's hand lace with hers, she held her breath, blush blooming in the back of her cheeks, and looked down at the sight. Why are you doing this? The push-pull was a special slice of torment for the vulnerable parts of her that had thrown themselves into the light, against all wisdom, and been kicked in the face for it. Usually this sort of behavior wouldn't be any issue; she had a good grasp of others and her own feelings, and wasn't perturbed by someone struggling with theirs and not knowing where they wanted to go with things.

But here, the woman was under her skin, had slipped her way in with a gown of ribbons, and refused to leave after her touch had long since departed. Nothing about it was fair.

Releasing the held breath, Therrye drew her gaze toward Aolieon's. Rather unintentionally, faint glints of that pain were present in her eyes. She considered gently pushing her away, telling her off for seeming so manipulative, being so utterly cavalier with such things... but the words weren't there. Harshness would have felt wrong in this moment, much as it felt deserved.

Exhaling, she swallowed her feelings for the moment and turned back to the ocean. She wouldn't have liked disturbing the peace of it with a fight anyway. A slight smile offset the tangled disappointment on her lips. "It really is so beautiful," she nearly whispered, unexplainable emotion making her eyes moist. Her breathing helped her regulate that away well enough, and soon she was able to smile more again at the waves, doing her best to not pay attention to the hand holding hers.
 
Aolieon released an exhale from her nose, having been turned away to appreciate the landscape of the waters. Her free hand, just out of view, moved up to caress her side; resting on her own belly as her heart sank, hearing the fleeting words Therrye imparted about kids. "I can only imagine..." she added softly under her breath. The pain started worming it's way into her icy exterior like cracks being frozen ever more openly -- she managed to steel herself as she walked this gangplank; there was a need to not have to look back at the basinette back home and feel the need to cry anymore... and so, she borrowed the bruiser's presence and this beautiful sunset to try and do something about it. Intrusive thoughts pushed their way in; it won't work, it's not working... just a little bit... she heaved a sigh, and mentally kept taking on this troublesome, spontaneous attempt one step at a time...

Aolieon found herself looking up into Therrye's eyes -- she could see some pain, maybe a touch of resentment. Aolieon's gave drifted down to her chest, feeling the weight as if she simply didn't belong here. She just held her gaze there; staring through the bruiser rather than having any sinful thoughts of appreciating her form -- those were far away right now... In an effort to find something more pleasurable, she looked forwards and took a few gentle steps forwards -- keeping the bruiser's hand locked in her own -- pulling her to wade down into the water. Polluted and unhealthy as it might have been; she wanted to feel it, and she didn't want to do it alone. She just held her hand and got up to mid-calf depth. Looking away but not commenting, she looked off to the side, kicking her foot mildly as it drew minor wakes in the water... This is nice. She hadn't really had a chance to feel the ocean beneath her before; integrated pools, showers, many things... but this feeling brought velvety layers that beckoned her further outwards. It brought a comfort and a new sensation to override her current feelings, and it helped a lot. She found a light smile, as she looked back out at the sun; it's lowest apex now drawing ever nearer to the horizon of water's edge... she did everything in her power to let this sink in, and begrudgingly -- she shared this moment with the bruiser, not because of any other feelings, but simply because it felt right... so right... it brought comfort.
 
Though she was dealing with plenty inside of herself, the bruiser wasn't oblivious to something going on inside the dancer. Of course she could not tell what it was, exactly, but she had her own burdens and this... context had opened something for her as well. That was something much easier for her, really -- in becoming the stone at the center of her own storm, it had become breathtakingly easy to be that stone for others.

At the woman's movement forward, Therrye seemed calm. There was something so very natural to it, and the sea had its own call for her ever since she first saw it. Slipping off her sneakers, she stepped into the edges of the water herself. Her socks got wet, yet taking them off would have required letting go of Aolieon's hand or unbalancing them, and really, it all felt terribly unimportant.

The way she kicked at the water reminded her so much of watching the children play in it, and her own first found wonder in the waves. This was no pristine sandy beach, and these were no clean waters, yet the sea was the sea, and she deeply felt the appeal, even if she didn't understand why. She found her own smile again in witnessing this, and for a time, that peace filtered in again, its light piercing the shallows of her heart.

It could not last, though, as the weight of the Liandri's hand became heavier and heavier inside her chest. Interrupting the moment felt wrong, yet feeling demanded she do it anyway, and the words that came out were awfully conflicted. "... why are you holding my hand, Aolieon?" She did not look at her unkindly, but it cost much of the rest of any emotion to suppress everything. "You told me you didn't want this."
 
🎶 "Dearly Beloved" 🎶

Aolieon waited without words and without bated breath for the bruiser to take off her shoes; she smiled brightly for a second, in spite of the darkness in her face. "I got socks," she said, gesturing with her head vaguely to her ramshackle. But then her smile melted into a softer expression, gently leading Therrye into the water with each little step. She eventually led her out to mid-calf height -- a discrepancy in ther underwater terrain led Aolieon to lightly slip a bit, a minor splash occurring but allowing her to relatively remain upright by gripping tightly onto the bruiser's hand and relying on her to keep from falling into it outright -- with Therrye herself having not been betrayed by the invisible outcropping and left at mid-calf depth, Aolieon now stood next to Therrye with her legs knee-deep in the waters; deep enough to truly appreciate the sensation of the waters, but not deep enough to get her sweater wet.

She gently swashed the water between her legs, managing a smile a bit as she savored the moment, even managing the barest note of a single chuckle as the feel of the murky, algae-infested waters spoke to her sensibilities softly. When Therrye spoke, Aolieon pulled herself all the way upright, regarding her question with a slight frown of curiosity as if she hadn't at all felt she was in the wrong for holding her hand -- it had come so naturally to her.
When Therrye followed up with her statement that provided context, her frown deepened, as she looked down in the general direction of Therrye's torso... She recalled all of the bitter, bloodstained words that she had passed to Therrye outside the concert hall. Her eyes slowly drifted up to look at her, as if she had an answer lined up -- she furrowed her eyebrows in emotional pain, looking down and slightly away... So many things to say; so many truths that could be passed on; entire worlds of information and feelings she wished she could bring herself to make clear... She slowly inhaled, her chest heaving as she managed a soft yet heavy sigh, looking back up at Therrye with an expression of heartfelt transparency, in knowing she didn't belong in this moment -- her eyes had dilated, but the amber halos in her eyes were a soft golden that accentuated in the light of the sun. There was that same human (yet slightly larger) dilation in her eyes from the first night that they met -- corporate tower windows reflected the golden energies of the sun; metal car wreckages sanded bare joined the rhapsody of light refraction, and other shining jewels in the rough of all the trash behind them -- all to project the facsimile of stars glimmering in those once murderous and lustful black voids, her eyes moistened from the masterful holding back of tears, magnifying that look in her eyes. Then, she began to speak.

"... We live in the City of Dreams, right?"
Aolieon paused for an entire breath, before her gaze lowered saddeningly. She stepped closer to Therrye, still beneath the invisible outcropping as she slowly embraced the bruiser in her arms; head finding itself close to her heartbeat as she turned her head aside and looked out towards the City in this visage of rustic, rusted and private reflection of its hidden facets. She took another breath, and closed her eyes.
"... So let me dream."

Aolieon just stood quietly, holding Therrye close but not tight at all. The bruiser could pull away any time she wanted... but the dancer had hoped this wouldn't be the case. She just wanted to live; to be in this moment. She couldn't take back the words she had said, even though she had tried her hardest earlier, minutes before she had tested her might -- on top of that, there was still much truth to her words; worlds of truth that Aolieon didn't want Therrye to know, simply because there was some knowledge too great to bear, and because those in-the-know ended up signing death warrants with their resulting actions way ahead of when their time would come otherwise... Deep down, that's not what Aolieon wanted to happen to her. She had a beautiful life, surrounded by friends; anyone Aolieon had met who knew Therrye came to her has chooms of preem camaraderie and respect... Most of Aolieon's chooms were dead... And much as her heart didn't want to be alone anymore; didn't want to cry anymore -- the chances of what happened to Aolieon happening to Therrye, quite possibly for the mere crime of knowing, was just as real as the fact that the sun was about to set over the waters, and would continue to do so for each passing day.
At the end of the day, it had little to do with the bruiser or how she had made her feel -- it was the inklings Aolieon had of what Therrye might do in regards to all that the dancer had come to know of the world she had fought against; that was the reason why what was in this moment, what could be... was something she could never have, and ideally, something better off not reached for in the first place -- at least that way, Therrye could live.

But her heart ached so much; deprived of the light of even the lie that someone alive still cared, it reached for even the slightest fabrication of that feeling. And so the emergence of the bruiser in her life, somehow rousing her to wakefulness back into the land of the living; somehow with clarity and noticeably less drugs and alcohol to keep reality at bay -- she could no longer resist the desire to at least bury herself in the chest of someone who wore their heart on their sleeve.

This wasnt some misty-eyed play at seduction.
This wasn't a selfish purging of emotions.
It wasn't a reconciliation of a loss of virtue which might vindicate her approach to life.
... and it certainly wasn't an apology.

Devoid of tears, bereft of tangible reasons and lacking in clues to tie it all together -- this was the world's quietest and most subtle mental breakdown.
 
Therrye accompanied her deeper into the water without hesitation. Having been used to the treacherous landscape and footing, she carefully tested her steps as she advanced. When Aolieon slipped, she tightened her grip and tugged enough with her arm to keep her steady, but not so suddenly or forcefully as to yank her closer or slip her up further. As much as her strength could be a wildly destructive thing, so too could it be fine and gentle in degrees.

The bruiser did not hold her gaze with demand, hostility, or distance. The question was straightforward, even though the answer was anything but simple. She wasn't even happy she had asked, but the parts of her that defended her heart from despair, from manipulation, and from rot would not let her leave it. Her feelings were plenty visible in the darkness of her eyes, though, the violet rings thinned from the weight of what curled inside of her chest. Even when she managed to hold back impulse and temperament, her violets consistently betrayed her. And, seeing the wet gold in Aolieon's, the ache in her grew in, drawing those hooks another step closer.

For so few words, the Liandri managed to say a great deal. The defenses that had pushed for this now felt the same flavor of weight as everything else, caving in beneath them. She was not surprised that the dancer held such pain, and did not judge her for wanting to push her away; she just knew that this would all hurt, and might very well be the most painful hooks of all.

Despite all that, her arms folded around Aolieon and held her close. Not stiflingly so, not caging in force, but gently firm -- something easily broken when the woman between them so chose, yet would hold fast against anything that tried to assail them from beyond. Dreams she understood, and dreams she'd granted aplenty. Giving such to her wasn't so hard, in the end. Even her exhale was nearly silent, for all the emotion it would carry, so as to not disturb that wish.

Therrye chose again and again to stand against what the world had tried to take from her, what the world tried to take from others, and she would continue to do so, no matter what it cost her. That, she could bear, and it mattered little whether or not it was fair. This was who she was.

Gently, one of her hands eased into her hair, and stroked her scalp with such slowness that a minute might go by before the fingers returned to their starting point to stroke again. Therrye held her there in the quiet of the derelict district and the clamor of the corrupted ocean for as long as she desired and did not push her away or tire of whatever emotions she was able to shed.
 
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Several minutes of Ambient sounds echoed around them as they simply held this moment. The ample crashing of small waves on the wharf. Blaring obnoxious advertisements echoing in the wind. Intermittent gunshots and police sirens far off in the distance. For several minutes, the only thing that happened was Aolieon turning her head to look at the sunset as it drifted downwards to lick the water's surface the golden sheen rippling right before their very eyes. Even when Therrye began to run her fingers through her hair, Aolieon did not move -- only merely closed her eyes and let some of the tension melt away.

It was so warm here... the water pushed some cold up into their bodies vicariously through their feet, but the warmth of this hug counterbalanced it all. Having nestled her head neatly in between the colds of Therrye's jacket, another ambient sound began to echo in the around her head -- Therrye's heartbeat, slow and steady, like a slow beat of something erotic and meaningful -- she mused that it could be added to music she wouldn't mind dancing to. It echoed in her mind, and she wanted to get closer... wanted to bring Therrye down beneath the water and place her head back here, so it could be the only thing she could hear. But what was currently coming to pass was nice, and so she settled for it.

Everyone always brings up the question of the Afterlife when it comes to living life in Night City, especially on the edge. Would you rather live in peace as Ms. Nobody; die ripe, old and smelling slightly of urine? Or go down for all times in a blaze of glory, smelling near like posies, without seeing your 30s? Its always an easy question for everybody -- especially if they're hungry for fortune and fame, having never even began to scrape out a profession for themselves. For most it's true; it's easier to try and fight for the ability to go down in the way of Night City Legends, having changed history and pulled legendary stunts people will talk about for decades, especially if you ain't got anyone to call family. For many, that's the only way you'll ever get remembered if you came from humble beginnings. But what happens when you reach the top; pulling off gig after gig, stunt after stunt, even going so far as to become part of a shadow war against those who have the world by the throat?? For awhile, you're always acting as someone else's tool of profit, justice or vengeance -- after a great deal of time, it may seem that you've gotten too good; that as soon as the nearest gonk can become famous by dropping your corpse off in Corpo Plaza and irking out a fortune just by itself -- and still you live? It starts to seem like that blaze of glory will simply never come; like you're always living your life for the sake of someone else -- something only carrying one major difference between a joytoy and a Corpse. You begin to wonder if the life of Ms. Nobody would have been great; wonder if you could have made something of yourself that you could have been happy with -- at least Aolieon did. Maybe not Morgan Blackhand or any other Legends good enough to get their name because they were alive... Once upon a time, Aolieon begged a man who had become as prestigious as those types to leave it all behind; to simply run away and find a life with her... To this day, she didn't understand why he kept fighting, and why he chose to lay it all down to remotely detonate a fucking space rocket. And here she was again... remembering... commiserating... wondering what could have been.

Aolieon pulled away just enough to look up into Therrye's eyes her amber rings pushed wide as she began to quietly breathe heavy. Part of her knew not to question whether or not Therrye would throw away the blaze of glory for something she could make herself... part of her knew better than to even ask a bleeding heart such as her. She gently grabbed the hand that was there and moved it to wrap around one of her horns; clutching it gently as if tugging a tiger's tooth -- holding it, not caressing it. She sat there quietly, looking down and away as thoughts and sensations filled her head -- if done right, this could be comforting and endearing, and that's exactly what she wanted right now. She kept breathing, sifting one of her legs through the water, just following the sensations and trying to drown out her somber thoughts. She looked back up to Therrye and her lips parted, as if to speak... no words came out though, and she began biting her lip as she was held there. This gesture didn't seem lustful or pensive however -- she stared at those lips of hers, as if it was a silent request. She stood there patiently, as the upper halo of the sun slowly began to drift down beneath the horizon; it's last few rays of light threatening to disappear in the very next moment...
 
There had already been through a number of surreal moments in their relationship -- whatever they might call it -- and this easily rated at the top. The sea, the sweater, the fight, the drone, the hug, it all added up to a more bizarre (but not abstract) sort of tableau, physical and emotional. A spark of desire rose up to paint it, though that itself had some spicy associations. Its impression lasted regardless, though, and it had gravity. This felt more important than she ever could have expected from leaving the Dojo, and it wasn't clear why; she perceived it all the same, though, and clarity and caution combined in guiding her responses to the dancer.

When she began to breathe heavily and showed her those thin rings, she could strongly feel its intensity. When she moved her hand to her horn, she could closely feel the intimacy of connection. So it was that when her gaze returned, Therrye could sense the emotional desire there. The need to be held, connected, reassured, witnessed, spoke to her. Though it seemed like she wanted a kiss, that didn't feel right, and she wouldn't exactly be surprised that such feelings might come out that way.

She still had that need, though, and the bruiser wasn't going to leave her alone and denied in it. Leaning forward slowly, Therrye touched her lips to Aolieon's forehead with warmth and receptivity. While it was very much for her and not herself, it didn't come from a cold, obligated, or shallow place. With what feelings she had, that would have been impossible to begin with, but the bruiser fully leaned into it to give her that.

Withdrawing, she offered a smile, touched by the grim realities of life in Night City, yet warm all the same.
 
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She waited patiently, holding herself by a thread in this moment. She couldn't deny there were heartstrings being tugged at in this moment, and she'd much rather have them assuage than continue to muse idly upon downward spirals of thought. It was a rather shaky moment of potential bliss, quivering with anticipation of being able to simply drown in the other Liandri once more -- for Aolieon, all compasses pointed back towards passion and looking away from things that had caused her such pain in the past... and yet, it left her unprepared for something different.

🎶 M.O.O.N. -- "Dust" 🎶

When it seemed that the bruiser was going in for the kiss, Aolieon slowly shut her eyes, ready to simply melt into her arms on the spot. When she felt the lips find her forehead, she paused. Her brain short-circuited, finding an error. What? It wasn't what she wanted... but it felt so tender and gentle. She did that thing again; from that one night, the other thing... sudden feelings came to the surface, rather than intrusive thoughts this time. It made her feel... Warm. Fuzzy. Like her nerves were being lightly tickled with synth-velvet. She felt a cold shiver as it wiggled down her spine. She had noticed the gesture before, but largely felt nothing; merely regarding it as a spontaneous play caught in the throes of passion, but here... What is this feeling? She truly didn't know what to think. One thing's for sure -- her thoughts and feelings, both the craving ones and the deeper, darker thoughts; all were disarmed by this unconventional display of affection -- one that she hadn't really had the luxury of feeling with anyone who had the wherewithal to get themselves entangled within her many webs of desire... not even the Ronin himself had done something like this before.

Aolieon opened her eyes slowly, just as the last sliver of light from the sun was engulfed by the endless expanse of the sea. She simply stood there, taking a moment of pause; her facial expression somewhere between perturbed and blissfully reverent. Her mouth slightly agape; she appeared slightly stunned. She looked back up at Therrye, searching her eyes for meaning -- only a warm smile was offered. To which Aolieon simply swallowed a lump in her throat, and slowly beckoned herself to lean back against the bruiser in a warm embrace one last time... and for a moment, all the worries and intense feelings seemed to melt away for just a spell. Just long enough for Aolieon to realize where she was, what she was doing, and reconcile it all.

It wasn't exactly a rejection, but it didn't feel like being let down easy either. There was something different to this feeling that she couldn't quite put her finger on -- it felt reminiscent of older feelings, yet it felt unique in its own way somehow. Like a timeless old friend you had never truly known but was always there, finally telling you their name -- something you never knew you needed until you had it. With it, Aolieon found the strength to pull away just enough to place her hands gently on Therrye's chest. With an expression that was sad but altogether somehow okay, she finally spoke. "... we should go, before night falls and it gets dangerous," she lowly muttered, regretting that the sun had set on this moment and somehow wishing for more; something in the back of her mind told her that this would have to do for now.
And so she quietly waded away from the water's edge, letting Therrye come along on her own as she begrudgingly put herself back together.

She took off the sweater first, putting it back in its compartment so that it could stay clean and neat. As she took out a towel and laid it on top, she cast a mildly curious side-eye -- naked as she practically was right now, part of her wondered if the bruiser had somehow lost eyes for her in that way, as if it was somehow important to her. Something about all of this seemed to signal that certain ships had sailed, and she didn't want to face that reality. What would she do, if she couldn't invoke those kinds of feelings in someone she wanted to keep around? It's not like anyone thus far had the inner resolve to steel themselves against such wiles, except maybe one... there was already enough going on in her mind that it would keep her mentally occupied for days on end -- it wouldn't do if she had lost the ability to charm with someone who had made themselves so interesting in such a short span of time. What is it about you that hits me in places I never knew were there before...? The question had little resolution to it, and far fewer answers. She didn't know what all that was, but it would have her reading between the bruiser's lines for weeks...

Aolieon found a spare pair of socks and threw a beach towel on the ground as the once orange sky began to take on shades of red. She laid the socks down next to her and had the jumpsuit in arms reach as she began to dry off her legs, and after awhile, in turn would lend the towel off to the bruiser. She sighed, and seemed to very quietly drop what she was doing -- she didn't want to put her gear back on for some reason; what she didn't realize yet was that she didn't want to leave. Even now as night began to fall, she had no cares or reasons to think that thus place would betray her or suddenly lose its sacredness. She just sat there for a minute, just barely hugging her knees as she stared out where the sun used to be. Something rubbed her the wrong way, and yet... and yet in spite of normally feeling bitter resentment against uninvited new sensations -- she found herself wanting to sit with this one awhile longer, just to get a better feel for it. She didn't know why... in truth, she just didn't know.
 
Even though she could not be certain whether the confusion in the dancer's face was a positive experience for her, her choice felt no less right. Parts of her wished she had just turned away and parts of her wished this had been a dreamily romantic kiss, yet as strong as both desires felt, the push for care dwarfed both. The needs and wants of others remained important in her mind no matter how much she pushed for distance or independence, and values so often trumped self-serving desires. 'As it should be,' she might commented, were it a discussion or train of thought.

That seemed to mark the end of Aolieon's "dream," though, and the bruiser nodded to her words. She was not especially concerned herself -- not until it got later, anyway, and even then, she had doubts over whether it was that warranted -- but she wasn't going to disagree. She glanced toward roof of the tower to their left, smiling a little at the memory of watching the sunset from there. No matter how bleak life could be on this wet rock, the roll of stars near and far would always hold beauty for her.

Turning around to leave the water behind, her gaze caught sight of the dancer's naked form. Violet orbs drew back into rings, but her visual attention lingered not more than a second or two, and it had taken on the quiet sorrow of one who beheld something so deeply wanted and so completely unobtainable. Though that wasn't the reality of it, exactly, that was the one she'd settled on.

Whatever the Liandri's reasons for being alone, and whatever her reasons for wanting Therrye anyway, this was just a temporary suspension of what she'd chosen. Nothing more.

Standing to the side and slightly ahead of her while dried off, she accepted the towel without directly looking at her. Rolling up her jeans (Going to have to clean those separately, she mused), she dried off her feet and ankles. It didn't take that long, and in the silence, she took notice that the dancer was not moving. Glancing over to see her hugging her knees, she paused for a beat of silently conflicted impulses, then spun open the towel and settled it down over Aolieon's shoulders and around her body.

Therrye wasn't oblivious to how her nature impacted those around her. Genuine warmth and open acceptance could be difficult to find here, and even though she held most at arm's length from her, she managed to do it without compromising those twin aspects. It wasn't as immediately disarming or amiable as how one like Brahms affected those around them, yet its effects could be plenty profound with time. The many who'd come to be in her orbit (and others besides who wished they were closer in it) saw that in her, consciously or not, and the gravity that lied within.

Though she could not read the Liandri's mind in the slightest, the inkling was there that her behavior had affected her in some intangibly significant way. There was little she could do about that, however, until she said anything about it -- and that would be the last thing she expected from the woman.

"I'm happy to take you wherever you'd like to go from here," she said softly, "but I need to get back soon. Have a gentle giant to train," she explained, not wanting to pressure Aolieon toward any given conclusion yet having her own obligations to return to.
 
Aolieon looked away, blushing a little when she saw the bruiser looking at her -- a warm smile happened upon her face after feeling that she still had it. Putting away her things and sighing flightily, she quietly begged the question of why the bruiser hadn't gone in for the full package of a kiss right then and there... she gave pause as she wondered about it pensively. She looked out on the water for a bit past Therrye, feeling like she could stay here forever -- trashy as it may have been; this felt like a place she could frolick in peace. Something about this place etched itself into her memory in a way that only special places with a special someone could... deciding to clutch a little bit onto the eddies of fleeting feelings, she closed her eyes and melted those thoughts away. She took a deep breath, sighed, and commenced drying herself on the beach towel.

Having dried her legs and wanting to hold onto the moment for awhile longer, she paused and looked at Therrye as she draped the towel around her body. She smirked, finding the wherewithal to throw a gentle jab her way. "I appreciate it, but... Im quite comfortable in my own skin, thanks," she chuffed a little bit, and her jeering smile melted quite quickly. There was a strong desire to simply lay down upon the beach towel and wait for night to fall. Aolieon wasn't lying; whenever she was home or in the place of someone she was comfortable with; she'd happily walk around nude -- there were even occasions where she'd have to undertake assassinations while in the nude, so having closed that chapter of her trauma long ago had served her well. Finally, she caved and did actually lay down -- "just a little longer..." she quietly whined, rolling over just a bit to reach over and grab her suit and all of its external gear up out of the dirt... she held it there in her hands for a bit while she laid on her side. She huffed, lightly pouting a bit as she rolled over enough to look at the night sky, seeing the stars through the polluted facade. Why did the few good moments in life have to be so fleeting? They came so suddenly, and then ended all too soon... After a minute or two of laying there -- either quietly appreciating Therrye's presence laying down with her but trying not to push for more of it, or simply laying there all by herself and letting the subtle edge of lack of physical contact urge her into acting more sensibly -- she'd eventually huff quietly, resigning herself to the act of dressing herself. She'd slip her legs into the jumpsuit, pushing them all the way until her feet rested into the platform heels; propping her hips upwards, she'd pull them up over her rear and then proceed to reluctantly close up the zipper that ran down from in between her legs, pulling slack subconsciously and getting it up to her belly button before slipping her arms in and shunting the shoulders up where they needed to be and closing the zipper up all the way to her neck. She laid back down for another second -- the desire to be held was palpable for Aolieon, but she had felt that Therrye had made her intentions clear by dodging that feeling of desire earlier -- for once in her life, she didn't want to push the envelope of someone's desires, and it bothered her. She tried not to look at the bruiser, and just sort've curled up for a second, trying to shove some feelings down. Eventually, she pulled herself up, picked up the beach towel and put everything away in her drone, commanding it to return home with her datapad. She turned to approach Therrye and nodded when it came to her words -- she just felt awkward for having been here, coming all this way and still wrestling with that anomalous string of emotions that had now found itself wrapped in her chest. She licked the dirt a bit shyly, and then nodded again, as if she hadn't already attempted to quietly acknowledge Therrye's words. "... you can swing me by Neon Hearts, for now. I got things to do too, but... I just need to sort some stuff out. Make some calls, arrange some deals, talk to Kaede..." She sighed as she threw out some believable lies, managing a fake smile, fluffing her hair and returning more or less to her former self. Of course, Aolieon wanted to just take some time to get the bruiser out of her head and really figure out what she should do next, but she didnt want to make it seem like it had anything to do with her... She looked out onto the now nearly black waters and nodded in affirmation. "This is... a nice place. If you like places like this, I know a couple I can share with you some other time, ya know. There's other things we can do at a later date, too... I suppose..." she clicked her tongue, looking away and biting her lip. I really shouldnt be doing this... she huffed and licked her lips managing to land her gaze back on her. "But Im sure youre a busy gal, so I wont keep you any longer," she started walking up the dirt slope... waiting for Therrye to come back up and lead the way into showing her the way out. Truthfully, she didn't know a better place for her to be sorting that stuff out; here was as good as any place, and now it carried a warmth where anywhere else would undoubtedly feel cold... this had panned out far from what the dancer had really wanted; alas, there was no pushing the envelope any further -- not if she wanted to try again, some other time...
 
"Mmm," she intoned quietly, not really responding to the dancer's first words. That very much wasn't a problem for her. It was all the bleeding that lingering would cause. Her memories were sharp enough on their own, and there was little reason to press her fingers into fresh jagged edges. Therrye remained where she was, gaze sliding to the horizon to watch the last of the light disappear beneath it. Close as they were physically, the distance emotionally may as well have been a system apart. Every time she looked at her, she'd just be given another reminder that Aolieon was driving down a divergent path, and the bruiser knew better than to try to leash anyone to her -- let alone wistfully wish for one who didn't want to be there in the first place.

She'd followed that wish only once before, and it'd nearly broken her seeing just how silly those hopes were.

"Okay," she nodded calmly. Neon Hearts wasn't a surprise at all. It seemed perfectly tailored for Aolieon to pursue any sort of oblivion she might want there without having to worry about what came after; it was a great place to forget one's self, even, and that resonated for the sort of path the dancer desired. Whatever she yearned for, Therrye didn't try to imagine it or wonder where it might lead. There was no point.

Shifting to head back up the path they came in on, she paused, processing what was said. Blinking slowly, and looking over to her just as slowly, she seemed almost placid, as if all of her emotions had been swept clear by a merciless wind. "Always enjoy finding new treasures in the city," a faint bit of smile at the edge of her lips, "and I always make time for those I care about."

With the words said, her gaze returned to the path ahead. A foothold and handhold, visible from this side of the tower, helped one get back onto the narrow set of 'stairs'.

Back at her bike, she entered the coordinates to pull a route. While she could have calculated one on her own, she preferred letting her thoughts remain dust on the air, and followed the destination nodes without delay or hurry. Light and shape passed by as she drove, droning through the rest of their time together that night in internal silence.

Drawing up near Neon Hearts, she stopped and turned as Aolieon got off. Face obscured by the helmet, she gave her usual gesture of farewell. "See you around, dancer." Much less than a minute later, she was gone.
 
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... "Is that right?"
Aolieon tilted her head at the bruiser's conjecture of making time for the people she cares about. She mused upon that for a moment, letting it bounce around in her head pensively. She didn't quite know if that sort of kindness extended to her, or if it extendedy to anyone whom could invoke the bruiser's bleeding heart. She slowly blinked, following Therrye and taking a ov45 ny hand she offered in helping her up. After a little bit of thought, she decided to say something frank -- something that could have been construed as also applying to Aolieon herself, but in truth was simply meant as earnest as it's words meant at face value. "... Just make sure you're strong enough that no one can use that against you."

When Therrye mounted the bike, she'd get on the bike slowly, and would hold Therrye a bit tighter than usual. She'd adjust her head quietly so that she could nestle the side of her horn close to Therrye's back -- as if she was trying to listen to her heartbeat over the ambient sounds of her bike, as well as the loud sounds over Night City. She huffed and pouted when she couldnt hear it hardly at all -- an intrusive thought pushed her to press a hand to her chest, if only to feel it beneath her hand... she shut her eyes tight, not wishing to push too far. Her thoughts drifted to that fateful forehead kiss; the gesture she still didnt understand... clearly it meant something. But what? As she road, she reached for something in her pouch and applied some lipstick sneakily. She didn't know... it puzzled her, truly. But something in her told her it wasn't something to go unrequited...

When dismounting off at Neon Hearts, she moved away from the bike any other thought. But when the bruiser waved and said her casual goodbyes, she whirled around and snatched Therrye's wrist, pulling it assertively off the Throttle. She stared semi-seriously into the void of her visor, expression indignant with eyes dilated. "The Dojo, Kara, the waterfront sunset -- all of that and more, but this is how you want this night to end? Really?" Her eyes searched that void for answers, even going so far as to try and read her body language for anything. When she didn't find any, her eyebrows furrowed, looking a little jilted at the inelegance of it all. Her thoughts returned to the last peak of their exchange; of the racing through combat, of the concern in her eyes at the ripperdoc, of that forehead kiss... and she just couldn't let it end there without getting something in. Thinking of how it was presented, she pulled in close and pressed her lips to a visible part of the visor -- leaving an iconic plum lipstick print on it, and of course completely misunderstanding the gesture. "Be safe out there, I guess -- those thighs look better in denim, not chalk!" ... she really couldn't help but mask her concern underneath some of her trademark sass; no one in Night City could possibly get a read on why now, of all times, she chose to maintain her image and facade, but one could totally understand if Therrye wanted to kick her teeth in after such a two-faced heel turn... and yet she still watched her leave until her bike turned the corner, her mirthy smile melting into something pensive and mildly concerned.
What's your deal, bruiser?
Neon Hearts Bar...

Still clad in her runner's gear, Aolieon walked in after depositing most of her weapons and sat at the bar casually, her expression seeming equal parts puzzled and let down. She sat patiently, not even addressing Kaede this time, reaching into her pouches to pull out a cigarette and light it. Kaede had seen her walk in, but had elected to take care of all the other people sitting at his bar first. "Never have to worry about you for too long -- you always come crawling back," Kaede started, wiping off an empty shot glass and putting it in front of her. "You feeling better today? Or are you gonna start acting like a bitch again? Gonna tell me how I was wrong for all the choices I've made? Or are you just here to try and drink yourself to death again?" Aolieon exhaled the smoke, placing her jawline in between her hands and letting a pregnant pause pass between them before she finally found the words to speak. "I'm... sorry..." Kaede froze, turning his head and widening his eyes at Aolieon as if somebody had chucked a glass across the room and it smashed violently behind him. He looked her up and down, and saw an emotion he was all too familiar with -- his expression softened, eyebrows furrowing to help form a commisserating frown. "Oh, honey..." he reached behind the bar and poured a shot of Bolshevik Vodka into the shot glass, making it a neat double on the spot. "...Spill."
Aolieon looked away, twirling a curl between two fingers of her free hand and taking another puff of her cigarette; her face twisted into mild embarrassing pain, she took another long drag of her cigarette before she exhaled with a heavy sigh. "It's not really much, really..." she vaguely gestured towards the door, as she did when something in the outside world had her all messed up. Kaede lowered his expression, looking Aolieon dead in the eyes. "Honey, I've always been here for you even at your worst, and you never fucking apologize. Spill the tea, baby -- every single dete." Aolieon straightened up, taking the shot glass in her free hand and downing it in two quick sips. "It's this freaking razorgirl..." Kaede's eyes lit up sinfully, and he locked in for his go-to gal. "Aww, shit... let 'er rip."

2 hours later...

"... and so, there I am; out on this spectacularly rustic Edgezone of a waterfront, toes in the water, getting tugged and with nothing but a sweater on, and what's this girl do?" Aolieon knocked back another shot, which Kaede had joined her in, but was quietly milking it as to stay on his toes for business. Aolieon grunted from the burn, and put her fifth cigarette out. "... she lays this freaking peck on my forehead! Like, what's up with that?" Aolieon shakes her head at Kaede, who at this point has his face presented in his own hands, as he has been utterly immersed in this roller coaster ride of a story Aolieon's been telling. "... afterwards, she just says a few words, and then just drops me off here. Like, we could have cuddled, we could have kissed; I would have been down for anything, and she just ends it right there! Like, ugh!" She tapped the bar, wanting another shot -- now effectively buzzed and enjoying the trance music, Kaede smirked at her, eyes widened in amazement. "Wow... so this girl is a rimbo in the streets, AND a gato in the sheets. The way it sounds, you make it seem like I might even be able to bet against you, for once..." Aolieon snorted, taking another shot straight to the dome. "Not a fucking chance -- but like, I didn't wanna flatline her! It was Matsuo's place too; like I HAD to take it easy... and she broke my fucking ribs," Kaede hummed a doubting note of affirmation as he poured another shot for her, just letting her feed him all the information. "... and all you really did was tell her off, you said?" "... I told her the truth; that in my line of work, I ain't got the downtime for bleeding hearts or people getting hexed over me. That if she keeps it up, she's either gonna get zeroed or learn the hard way..." Kaede's gaze dropped to the ground, and he organized his bottles in an attempt to not fidget "... you do be going at life a lot like a Zombie, sometimes..." he mused, looking back up at her semi-seriously. "... a lot of the time, actually."
Aolieon shrugged, gesturing with her hands. "... but like, is something wrong with me? Be real with me; you think I'm going soft? Like, she's in my skin, man; like I chipped in, and after all this, I still don't know what her deal is..." She looked at Kaede flabbergasted, like she was seriously perturbed by all this, and wishing for some answers -- Kaede merely smiled, looking down at his datapad to confirm he still had the deets for the razorgirl in question, but flicked it away to ensure Aolieon didn't see. "... Sounds to me like you've finally met your match," he lowly teased, his voice taking on a meaningful yet passionate tone, as if he was enlivened by this information. Aolieon tilted her head at him, squinting her eyes as if she wasn't quite so sure what he said. "Come again?" Kaede chuckled to himself. "You snagged yourself one bombshell of a rimbo; a girl who can dig her nails deeper than a ripperdoc and lay you out cold in the streets -- you tell her off, and she listens. Did you really think you'd be that good of a smokeshow forever?" Aolieon's jaw dropped as she scoffed, offended at what Kaede was insinuating. "Believe it, baby -- all of us who ran through fire and war alongside you? We kept telling you there were good people in the world, besides us. Now you finally find one; someone who isn't flying by the seat of their own desires, and you treat them like the other yono in Night City -- the fuck did you think was gonna happen, Li-Li?"
Aolieon scoffed, but then her expression melted into one that reflected remorse. She looked away and thought of what little she had seen and how it had told her so much. She huffed through her nose and shook her head, dismissing all the feelings that tugged at the new ribbons in her chest. "So... what? Do I put it out of my mind -- delta out and go about my way?" Aolieon's expression saddened deeply, feeling how she probably screwed this up and that was a possibility. "Ohh, I wouldn't say that... but for sure, your usual wiles ain't gonna cut it -- not after you practically told her that you didn't want her in your life," Aolieon shut her eyes -- it was really beginning to sink in just how much she had screwed the pooch on this one. "So, if not that, then what?" Kaede slid her a glass of water -- his offensive way of telling her that she was soon gonna be cut off.

"I been telling you to get your act together -- to dig deep, clean yourself up and start taking life seriously again, if you think there's still something worth fighting for... maybe its time you did."
Kaede crossed his arms, leaning in close to Aolieon over the bartop -- he knew he had her attention now, and this time she might listen... So many times he'd stood on this soapbox; so many times he had tried to lift her up out of the mud and depression she had buried herself in -- now there was the inklings of something valuable to Aolieon. Maybe this time, it would stick.
"As for the girl? Well, like I said -- them Kunoichi charms likely ain't gonna be half as effective, now that you burned a girl with a bleeding heart. If it were me, I'd consider coming at her the way she's built herself up, rather than the way you'd rather her be..." Aolieon tilted her head, twirling one of her curls 'round her forefinger as she narrowed her eyes at Kaede. "What do you mean?" Kaede shrugged and chuffed, smirking a little bit as if she should know. "... Start treating her like an Edgerunner worth her own salt -- not a joytoy, Li-Li. Girl like you? You ain't treated your body like a temple in a minute --you treat yours like a tent. Fact of the matter is you wouldn't have been laid out, if you hadn't let your skills get so rusted in these past two years." He stood all the way back up, reaching for a bottle and placing it on the counter, but nudged the glass of Real Water before her -- as if metaphorically offering her a choice. "Those two things might not seem related, Li-Li, but... if you don't take yourself seriously, then who will?" He craned his neck, as if he wanted to lean in towards her, but had other places to be. "I shouldn't have to tell you this, but people value the things that'll let them see another night in Night City more than they do its guilty pleasures, baby -- I know you can be both, and so much more... let that sink in, "Aoi Oni" -- you've always been more," ... and with that, Kaede walked away to handle other customers more personally, which he had otherwise been sliding drinks to across the bar to attend to Aolieon for the past two hours and some change.

Aolieon frowned, looking down at the two choices before her -- the full bottle of vodka, and the glass of water. A light sigh escaped her nose as she planted her head lackadaisically on her pedestaling free hand. Her fingers tapped the pack of smokes on the bartop, as her eyelids lowered, and certain words invaded her intrusive thoughts.
Can't say I know this gal in front of me very well... but I like her...
If I get to have a life, and I do now, then I want to live it for me. Not for how much I can destroy others...
You don't know me, what I need, or where I'm going... and you don't get to tell me what I will and won't do, or what I'll give to get it done...
The kindness is what I choose to give... no matter how many more nights I might need my fists...
... that's what she said the first time she did that thing... wasn't it?

Aolieon's eyebrows furrowed bitterly... but it seemed more like a war of resentment and determination. She cracked open the bottle of vodka subconsciously and took a sip; tinier than what she usually might, drinking straight from the bottle... but then she put it down. She snorted lightly, taking another cigarette and lighting it. She then reluctantly picked up the glass of water and guzzled it down -- when she was finished, she curled her lip at how metallic it tasted, and how it tasted like little else. She began to quietly mull over thoughts, plans, calculations, known fixers, vendettas -- a million and one thoughts, all intermittently permeated with visages of the bruiser in memories both passionate, wrathful and meaningful... she reconciled herself to the cigarette for now... and started to slowly come up with a plan.
 
A flicker of pain appeared at the mention of others being used against her, but it smoothed out into steely resolve and a nod. There was plenty of truth in it, and it was fuel aplenty to do exactly that. Between the careful dance of distance with others and strong visibility alone, she'd make sure, too, that there was plenty of reason to just go after her if and when it came down to it. Better that than making anyone else into a pawn with which to checkmate her.

The meditative qualities of the drive were most of what let her suspend the ache from the dancer's body being so close to hers for much of the day. It was coming too close to that first night, and that was wearing down her quiet determination of what was and what could be.

At Neon Hearts, when she was finally able to start getting some respite from the day, Aolieon took hold of her wrist and stopped her. Tension coiled in her chest and throat. There was only so much to give without being a willing participant in digging the knife deeper and she was teetering at that point. She could give voice to any of these feelings, selecting shades of intent to shield herself, to draw at the Liandri, to chastise her -- but the war between these choices left her in a stalemate. The want was too strong to dig out, and the need too hard to invite more in.

Therrye exhaled the breath she'd unconsciously held, the torrent of emotion hidden behind the visor. The kiss she left on the visor certainly got her attention, and the ribbons twisted the hooks deeper. You already know what I want, Aolieon, came the silent response. "Too much to still do before I can get zeroed," she replied with more heart than she'd let out since she went quiet at the waterfront; it was entirely true, after all.


🎼 Scattle - Love and Madness (Furi OST)

At least half of the hard part of bouncing was accomplished by Ares' size and armaments alone. Large enough to give near anyone pause, and chromed enough to tell the rest how slim their chances were, he could disarm belligerent intent by making his presence known. It was a far cry more potent than Therrye's passive ability to deter violence and she'd already expected a downturn in any potential escalations at 🔺❌⭕. While it might deter some of its business as well, she didn't expect that to be significant in numbers. As it was, she didn't end up that occupied in dealing with patrons, and the rest wasn't that difficult.

Beyond mitigating his tremendous strength, which was more his own work than anything she could teach him, she was pointing out different sorts of tells. What might make for a problem customer, what might be an undercover law enforcer, which markers signified which gang, what subtler signs of cyberpsychosis there were (Ares knew most of them already, of course), and so on. Spotting trouble before it happened was the real upper level skill set, and keeping awareness high with one's ears even while nothing seemed to be up was a cultivated habit. They had a couple gangers come in -- Animals -- and while they gave Ares some of the stink eye, his bulk and demeanor kept things from escalating. "Well managed," Therrye offered, some of the few praise she gave throughout the evening. "I'd rather prevent violence with words than blows," he replied, and the two shared a smile. He's a great fit, she mused, gladdened he'd volunteered himself for it.

She hadn't really doubted his capacity for the job. Her main concern was him getting spotted by Balgur's troops. Unlike Therrye, he camped indoors, which definitely cramped the entry but made it a good spot harder for him to be noticed. Still, word would likely get around after enough time passed, and she'd begun preparing for that eventuality.

After the first few hours, Therrye went further in to sit at the bar, so she could observe and get him pointers and alerts as needed, but also to leave him to fend for himself. She didn't know if she'd call him a natural; his inclinations made him very well suited, though, and there was minimal need for her after that.

Joi wasn't at the bar currently, busy as she was with some unrelated business and leaving Rhys to sling drinks. While she could have benefited from some of her candor, there was something about the lonely existence amidst the din of patrons and drinks that let her skip out on some of her feelings. It reminded her of being with chooms in terms of ambient body heat and conversation, yet with none of the requirements for presence of mind. For long stretches of time, she could occasionally sip at piss beer while leaving her gaze unfocused and her hearing attuned toward trouble. She could almost call it meditative for how well she slipped into the groove of it and blanked most else out -- consciously, anyway.

After she'd left Neon Hearts, the only thing that she'd let draw her attention backwards was Ares noticing her partially wet jeans. Enjoying respite otherwise almost felt like a luxury, which was its own cluster of red flags planted firmly in a concrete field.

Eventually, a clamor of patrons escalating into argument broke the reverie. Ares didn't lag much behind her in the noticing of it going somewhere beyond common banter, and the two converged without her having to call them over. Reaching overhead of one of the standing patrons, the cybered Goethe laid three fingers onto the surface of the table and exhaled with some noise. This got their attention, and upon turning to look at him, much of that intoxicated animosity dribbled out onto the floor. "There a problem?" "N-no, no, we're chill, we're chilled." "Good," Ares rumbled, standing back up to his full height and gazing across their faces before turning to go back to the door.

Therrye smiled at the display and followed after. "I'm going to get some air, alright? Call me if you need anything." The fighter nodded and offered a thumbs up, which made the bruiser smile a bit more. Something about it tickled at her sense of humor, despite the not-quite-so-ancient memories of the agony of cracking her horns against one crushing the life out of her.

One would struggle to describe Night City air as 'refreshing', but she was feeling a need for a lack of walls around her. Giving herself some momentum, she beat the pavement with needful steps. She wasn't dressed for a run at the moment, and while the urge to outpace some feelings was present, she didn't push it that hard. A dozen blocks felt like enough, or so the hope went.

For years, she'd had no trouble holding hearts gently in one hand while indulging her desires with the other. Even after Mirri, she'd still been able to find solace from her self in the tangle of skin and torrent of breath with others. It was only after the night of the ambush that her ability to indulge had been well and truly cracked. Intrusive thoughts of what might happen again, of how it could go worse, and the danger she inflicted on others by having them more vulnerably in her life cut into what used to be a seamless divide away from anything and everything that might plague her emotional landscape. Losing that clear line of separation and dissolving draw had been a significant blow, and while she hadn't quite put the pieces together yet, it had coincided with her slide into more dangerous runs and caring less for her own safety. Something, somewhere, had to give, and that being her own life had been an all-too-plausible ending for her.

That things could get so much better, and then so much worse, was not anywhere in her range of expectations for the future. Four blocks in, and she switched to a jog, the pace and pound of a walk not cutting it. Six blocks in and Therrye earned some looks, dressed like she was ready to slide in on a ganger meet with gats blasting, while hurtling down pavement like the law was in pursuit.

She didn't pay them much mind.

Having lost an exact count, she came to finally rest against a tattered film of posters on a concrete wall. The familiar pulse and heaving breath of this state was a balm, of sorts, and there was relief in it. Not quite enough, though; less than a minute later, she was kipping through her contacts list. With a too-hefty flick, she spun to its end, where it came to rest on a name that stirred her body as close to as much as anyone was going to get as a certain blue-hued dream. Three months had yet to pass since that last time, and yet... several breaths passed before she went back in the other direction, tapping on a more recent name and typed.

I want to see you again.

Her attention hovered over the send button. Hesitation kept them in place for a long few seconds before she sent it off. Even if it might not be any better than the last time, it couldn't be any worse than the forlorn interest that'd returned to haunt her.


🎼 Lorn - KOLD MIRAGE

Nodding to Ares as she came back in, she glanced around before centering on him. "All good?" He nodded and she smiled. "Great. Hope you're chill with all the boredom. There's going to be a lot of it." He huffed good-naturedly. "Practically a vacation compared to the circuits."

Taking joy in that sentiment, she spotted Joy at the counter chatting with Rhys and approached. "How's your night?" An indeterminate incline of her head; sometimes her fixer kept things very close to the chest. "Been better, been worse. You?" "Ares is doing great." The Human brightened a tad, then. "Not that I expected otherwise." "He's a gentle soul, that one." The three of them watched the unknowing Goethe for a beat. "Bit of a miracle he ended up here." "A bit. Plenty of grit and steel behind that 'miracle'." "So often the case in NC." The two at the counter stood silent for a few beats. "Well. Got some work for you." "Yeah?" "Couple that are smaller bits, but should be good for some bills and showing our big guy the ropes." "Nova. What else?" "There's one that requires a more delicate touch. Think you can swing that?" The bruiser hemmed and hawed. "Send me the detes?" "You got it."

Scrolling over the data in her feed, her brows furrowed. The intel indicated a modest defense team for the building, yet its security systems made for a blistering defense grid, with multiple layers of air gapping to prevent a netrunner from splashing ice all over them. Going for a smash and grab, even with Ares punching through walls, seemed more like a death sentence without a lot more support. Her thoughts ticked. Haebi or 9 would need physical insertion... A long beat later, she vented a large sigh. There was someone she knew who'd be perfect for this, even if it was the last person she wanted to talk to at the moment.

"So?" "... could be a done deal if I can get a certain runner interested." Joi gave her a nod. "I'll shoot you the others; let me know if you work it out." "Thanks, Joi." She gave the bruiser a smile. "Anytime, 'Rye."

Pulling up her contacts again, resolving to check out the other job detes later, she gave the second name on the list a good stare before typing up a message and sending it off to Aolieon.

Got a data snatch job from my fixer and the specs are perfect for you. Interested?

After a moment, she shot off another message. I'll synch with another runner if you're not.

Swiping it aside, she looked back up to spot Joi before she walked away. "Actually, I have some questions for you if you have a few minutes." Curiosity raised in her. "Oh?" "Can you tell me about Kaede? Used to be a runner, owns the Neon Hearts bar now?" The woman raised a brow. "Kaede? Kaede Withridge? Not a name I hear often. Cool flame, great bartender and a very solid fixer, or as far as I've heard. His Long Island Iced Tea and his Mai Tai are both testaments to his skill as a bartender. I'd be cautious with him, though. I've heard in the past that he ran with Nomads and racked himself up quite a killcount as an Edgerunner. Legends say you could be miles outside of Night City, and Kaede would still be able to dome you from inside the walls." This had certainly gotten Therrye's attention. "And now?" "His jobs are wholesome and handsome. But I don't hear about him often these days because he keeps to himself and stays pretty low-profile. People who deal on the regular with Kaede are... a different breed of Rebel. So watch yourself if you're planning on working with him, okay?"

The bruiser digested these words for a time. "Anything else?" She looked back up. "Right. I had to go outside of the city to bring Ares to his brother. Ended up at the Twisted Throttle. Met an older human there, fiery hair, sweet but stern - the Nomads there, Sable Seraphs? called her Mama. Any intel you can share on any of that?" "... I don't think I know that name... wait, Sable Seraphs... you met the Sable Seraphs? They're still around?" Joi postured her hands up on the bar, gaze murky and perturbed. "I think I know who you're talking about. I thought they got wiped out awhile back -- wild Nomad tribe, that one. They used to be the ones you'd have to contend with going out of Night City; they had bad blood with the Corpos because they cut their teeth on military convoys and arms shipments. Made conflict a bit scarce for awhile, because they kept stealing all the weapons. I didn't think they'd still be alive after all this time, especially after what the Corpos did what they did to them..."

Concern certainly built up there, but she asked all the same. "What did they do to them?" "The Fallen Uprising happened. Corpos declared war and hunted them up and down the wasteland. No one knows which happened first, the Wasteland Purging or the Fallen Uprising... you'll hear different stories on which caused what depending on who you talk to. But between you and me? I think the Fallen Uprising wouldn't have happened if the Wasteland Purging didn't." She looked like she was about to chew her cheek for a moment before returning her gaze to the bruiser. "No idea how or why Ares brother would be with them, but those guys are nothing but trouble. You ain't getting involved with the wrong crowd, are ya?"

Therrye glanced aside; hardly a difficult tell to pick up on. Joi leaned forward, elbow resting on the bar as she held her cheek. "I don't want to be worrying about you, 'Rye." "I'm not involved, really. I just met them." "Then why does it sound like it's more?" Her head canted back and forth a moment. "Well, I'm running with Ares now. His brother's with the Seraphs. I don't want their next reunion to be a funeral." The fixer slowly exhaled and then nodded. "Yeah, I get ya. Just be careful, alright?" She returned an insistent nod. "I will. Thanks, Joi." Giving her a meaningful look, she then waved to her and Rhys. "I'll be in my office."

The Liandri's fingers tapped on the bar counter. Kaede ran with the Nomads and fucks with the rebels. Seraphs gave the Corpos hell, ate Corpo lead, and yet lived on. The tapping got a little faster. Aolieon directed the fighters to the Seraphs, and not a burnt location, so she's kept up or they've been there awhile. Her eyes narrowed some. And she deals with Kaede on the regular. Flattening her fingers, she exhaled. A network of Rebels, then, who hurt hard in the past few years, and a dancer with a penchant for lonely suffering. She could make out glimpses of connections clear enough, yet lacked more details to concretely pull it all together. Bringing a hand to her chin, she glanced aside, then shrugged. Of course she wouldn't tell me anything. I'll have to work in some time to visit Kaede, I suppose.

As she was debating between turning in toward home to get some sleep or getting another drink, a thought swam up to pull at her attention. 9 said Aolieon's malware had sets of location data. Maybe I can dredge up some clues from them first. Feeling more grounded in it, her ensuing bit of cheer faltered at the experiences that'd touched the rest of her day. She sighed with some weight, slipping back into a frown. Why am I trying to hunt this down when she's an endless bottle of bitter liquor for me. Therrye leaned back from the bar, gazing toward the ceiling, ribbons twisting to and fro in her chest to a distant tide. ... whatever. Can't hurt to know, and could very hurt to not know. Even if it's some dead ends, Kaede or Big Mama might have something I can use against Balgur. That thought, at least, provided some comfort.

Opening her contacts yet again, she sent a message to 9.

Can you send me what you've got from the malware so far? Happy to pay for it. It didn't take long for a reply to come in.

sure sure sure T
idk how useful itl be, but u got it

Another message from a garbled source came in with a blank link. Tapping it brought up a series of screens, closing as immediately as they were opened, that ended with a confirmation screen for dropping ten thousand eddies to another garbled account. Chuffing very quietly, she confirmed it and watched some more of her cached wealth drain away.

will ping if smtn gud comes up

The messages shortly deleted, as per usual, but another set of files was on her local storage now. Four files carried cryptic names: "rec," "poetry," "map," and "articles." It would be quite some time before she really understood what she was looking at, let alone the whole of the picture -- but the map was something she could work with. Not even thinking to order more beer, Therrye glanced around and took a more secluded spot in the bar before beginning to parse through it and match it to what she knew of its areas, making notes on another layer for herself as she went. This would take awhile.
 
3 hours in from arrival at Neon Hearts...

For several minutes now after Kaede's little spiel, Aolieon sat there commiserating her feelings on the matter of the bruiser, reconciling and mulling over everything that had come to pass... everything that could be done. Kaede had left her to her thoughts for a handful of minutes, when her datapad clinged again -- this time twice. Aolieon looked at the messages, and her expression darkened a bit; part concerned, part quietly unprepared to be dealing with the sender of the messages.

- Got a data snatch job from my fixer and the specs are perfect for you. Interested?
- I'll synch with another runner if you're not.

🎶 MGS1 OST -- "Discovery" 🎶

Of course, Kaede glanced over to read the text messages himself, after which his eyes cut up to see Aolieon still staring pensively at the message. He smirked lightly, swallowing a hopeful lump in his throat as he cocked an eyebrow. He knew his words about people valuing survivability over salaciousness still hung fresh in her mind; he had chosen to end his tirade on those words for multiple reasons, and so he decided to say something else, just to drive further at the point he was trying to make.
"... 'Put-up-or-shut-up' time, Li-Li."
Aolieon looked up into Kaede's eyes; he was leaning on the bar with one elbow. Aolieon scoffed, looking away with resentment and a touch of bitterness. She hated being pressured on the spot like this, but she also hated when Kaede was right more than anything. She exhaled through her nose, lips pursed as she silently growled.
"... so? What's it gonna be?"
Aolieon pulled her arm away, getting the datapad just out of view -- doing so fat-fingered a key, but little else (causing Therrye to see "Aolieon is typing..." for several minutes). "Don't you know it's rude to snoop on people's business?" she bit at the words, getting rather aggravated with Kaede and his high horse. He simply batted his eyelashes, plucking the nearly untouched bottle of vodka off the bar and smirking with a complicit frown. "Honey, you're like a lil' sister to me -- your business IS my business, bitch. Now, why dont you show this rimbo what you can really do for once? ... you wanna look in the back?" ... all things considered, it felt comforting to have Kaede all-in on something that she wanted for a change, rather than the other way around. Of course, Kaede had been supportive of Aolieon's ulterior motives plenty of times in the past -- it had simply been awhile; moreso for sure since the time last time their aligned quarry had something other than business or pleasure to do with it. Despite this, Aolieon curled her lip at him, annoyed. "We dont even know if the gig is 'round the corner -- doubt I'd even need your set of toys. Whatever happened to 'right tool for the job', hmm?" Kaede shrugged; it was a valid point. "Suit yourself." Aolieon managed a smile at her old friend. "One for the road, please?" Kaede curled his own lip, offering a mild head shake after a moment. "... and some naproxen." This made Kaede look up with a flicker of hope, which wasn't holding its breath. "... look, no promises, ok but... I'll figure something out."
Kaede stared at Aolieon for a bit and eventually nodded, his expression mildly grim but earnest and accepting of those words. That was as good as an answer as he was gonna get, but... truth be told, it was the best answer he had gotten since he had been trying to motivate Aolieon to get out of her rut. As shaky and uninspired as this had been -- even he couldn't understand why all that had transpired in the past week had essentially in a roundabout way been over a girl. Aolieon could lie just as much as she wanted, but that was the truth -- diving headfirst back into work to stockpile a bunch of eddies, freeing slaves (and thereby withholding the information as to where Atlas & crew had been sent), going back on what her old mainline had taught her about vengeance?? No matter whether you saw Aolieon back in the sunrise years of her coming out of a soft shell and just learning how to hold a sword or you had seen her now, painting the darkest corners of Night City red with naught but two swords and a cyberpsychotic drug trip -- Aolieon had one fatal flaw, and that is that she handled her emotions poorly. One inspiring enough upset and just an ounce of motivational drive to turn intrusive thought into action would be enough for Aolieon to go on the warpath and throw an entire territorial street gang into disarray by dismantling it's leadership with garrote wire. Miles of grievances against humankind and Xenos alike was what it took for the Ronin to do something similar to Maelstrom -- yet, seeing it be done, all Aolieon took was an inch to do the same to the Tyger Claws... While lessons were learned along the way (both avengers went out of their way to make it perfectly clear amidst the bloody swathe they carved in their ranks, the reasons why they were being genocided) -- they always bounced back, not simply because of streetkid resilience and a soulbound familiarity with the city... but because there was something to be said about the specialties and skills they had from their culture, and were to be left with survivors at the end of the day. Like it or not, the Fallen had uses for each street gang, and they were allowed to recuperate each time. Now, for certain, those who run the illegal fight pits had gotten on her shit list. Sure, she communicated the reason for why she had freed Ares & the Destroyer and things seemed to have died down... but there was no telling what Therrye would be going after... or, if the case turned out to be vengeance for her, if they'd receive the same bargains that the gangs did.

Having reluctantly poured her a shot, Aolieon threw it back almost immediately. He handed her another can of water. "You ain't poisoned, Li-Li -- better to let your body play catch up. This'll do the trick." Aolieon grumbled, curling her lip and turning the can away. Kaede shrugged, putting it away. Whatever steps she can take is good news, he supposed. "Im probably gonna need some wheels," Aolieon commented. Kaede nodded again, "you wanna use mine?" Aolieon shook her head. "That booty buggy of yours is too tacky, no offense. I was thinking about the other car; the less expensive one..." Kaede cut her a look, cleaning up Aolieon's space and offering his hand in handshake. "Its been where we left it, after all these years..." Aolieon nodded, getting up from her barstool. "Well... guess I'll try," Kaede looked up, managing to beam at her. "Get it, gurl! But try to keep the Legend off the news this time, will ya? You're better than that..." Aolieon rolled her eyes, taking Kaede's hand and transferring him his owed eddies. "... again, no promises honey." Kaede lightly sighed, shaking his head. "... Try, boo. Seriously, genuinely try. That's all I'm asking." Aolieon brushed her hair off to the side like a diva, turning to walk out of Neon Hearts. "Whatever!"
As she turned out of the bar, she looked at her datapad and with a few feelings of reluctance over what to say, she finally texted back -- deciding to keep things professional.
- Ok.
A spell then she added another word in a separate reply.
- Detes?

🎶 Perturbator (feat. OddZoo) -- "Vantablack" 🎶

45 minutes later...

Aolieon had walked herself into the bowels of an unfinished metro/residence area near Neon Hearts. Construction materials left abandoned and left to rust, as well as piles of trash and even ancient designated corpses littered the place. This was an old infrastructural experiment performed awhile back to turn a sinkhole into further real estate, bypassing certain laws and other mandates, but it fell through awhile back -- now, sewer networks ran through this area, with other nooks and crannies from dead transportation routes remained down here. It was a bit of an effort, but Aolieon had to rely on her agility to navigate this area; swinging to and fro from regarding outcroppings and other I-beam structures to get down here... It was fortunate no gang had yet found this area and decided to make it their hideout yet... Eventually she was on the ground floor and strutting her stuff across dusty concrete and half-finished rafters. She turned a corner into a sewer tunnel and then another to reach a deep dark chasm that had been secluded for the longest time and hidden behind an ancient passageway behind a false wall. Aolieon didn't remember what the code was, and so she just decided to plant a simple breaching charge she had appropriated from Kaede before she left. Blowing open the wall, bricks of mossy decrepit make spilled everywhere, and she found herself in a dark area surrounded by old Militech crates and old construction materials. Luckily, her super-dilated eyes allowed for some decent darkvision to not allow her to get too caught up in all the mess or trip over something. She walked over to the other side and tore a synth-canvas car wrap off of something -- revealing an old 2040's sportscar in matte black with tinted windows, emergency shutters and all kinds of subtle bells and whistles. Hardly what you'd call a spy-class car, considering how old it was but otherwise souped up with a decent amount of old technology that a Runner might want in their tool belt -- after all, it was designed to carry itself through a handful of Fallen operations before being able to be ditched or destroyed. A tactical burner car, as it were... It took Aolieon q couple of tries to break the old encryption, as it had been a minute since she used the old interfaces but eventually she cracked it on the last attempt, running some old tech programs into convincing the car that it was in fact her own. After a little bit of perusing the old Militech cases and throwing a handful of gadgets, gizmos and weapons in the trunk/backseat, she hopped in the driver's seat and slowly took winding turn after turn in order to bring the thing up to surface level.

It felt weird... driving again. Of course, she had been taught, but her licensing had less to do with normall driving the roads and more to do with defensive driving -- naturally two went hand-in-hand, and Aolieon couldn't help but find herself speeding with a subconscious lead foot and just making tight turns that required drifting to pull off. Only ever used to driving like a bat out of hell, there were a couple of pedestrian crossing lights and sidewalk railings that were taken out along the way, as Aolieon got herself to curb her aggressive and altogether unhinged driving techniques under control. Watching other cars and seeing how they were going about their days, she eventually got the hang of it, and was generally blending in with the sights and sounds of Night City in no time.

After stopping by her place to collect and reconsolidate some goodies, she procured her MAC-23s and proceeded to drive to a weapons range not too far from there.
Stopping in, the vendor looked up at her, astonished at seeing an old face from around the neighborhood finally stopping into the arms vendor. "Hey, there! Uhh, looking for some new... iron...?" Aolieon did not even regard the vendor, as she picked up an HJKE-11 Yukimura & a TKI-20 Shingen off the walls and nonchalantly placed them on the table. "... just sampling these for right now; might buy, might not. I dunno... just need to run some Turing tests to my standard, and my standard alone," she declared, casually pulling her cred-chip out. There was much that needed to be done but Arasaka was the enemy and had a hand in the revolution of smart-link tech and weaponry for quite some time -- getting a feel for things and getting her own custom-designed smart SMGs to work on their level (while also finagling things to where she could add what she wanted beyond said means) would be the best option. Veteran Samurai employed by them never cared much for these weapons, preferring to rely on their own skill, but as Arasaka had always maintained an interest in maintaining and reserving an inexhaustible military force -- best to level the playing field in any ways she could.

She proceeded to her spot on the range, and then proceeded to calmly don two things she had largely forgotten about but otherwise knew never to take for granted -- she donned a simple synth-vinyl glove with interlocking, fluttering studs and tiny metal plates in the palm and fingers, coming alive and flexing in tandem to the response of every hand movement she made. She then put on a red transparent visor which clipped around her ears and started coming alive once the handshake with her old datapad had followed through its own processes -- a targeting visor and a carriage glove made to go with the visor and supplemented the usage of smart-link technology.
This was the genius handiwork of Cipher, the forgotten but legendary Ripperdoc of the Fallen, who handled the Ronin's implants personally. He was a visionary prodigy in many regards, who even fancied himself quite the intellectual xenobiologist for a time. Having been the one trusted with removing Aolieon's malicious implants long ago and also having had to provide her medical attention a handful of times, he had discovered that neural impulses generated by a Liandri emanated multitudes of elaborate impulses of excessive energy from their bioelectrical current, like static and altogether extremely subtle for many technologies to pick up on. While Aolieon would undergo consensual hypnotherapy using BDs and working with the Ronin to reverse severe psychological damage, Cipher had begun to record the multitudes of these static impulses during their sessions and been working on technological applications for it -- the result was this external supplement of full smart-link cyberware. Instead of working directly with one's Kiroshi optics to detect neural impulses such as when to fire and when an enemy was being targeted; it relied on these external static impulses generated from hair, temples and especially the horns to interpret Aolieon's intentions before she could consciously act upon them.

Aolieon began test firing the Yukimura for several rounds, positioning herself awkwardly to and fro and taking strange stances as she did so to see how the targeting system would handle unorthodox framing and push system limitations to the limit. She did this for several mags, and then she did the same with the Shingen. After a good hundred or so rounds, she pulled out the MAC-23, and ran the same battery of tests. All the while, the red interface of the targeting visor glitches, swept colors and shapes across her vision and mystified various shapes, colors and information regarding targets -- all Aolieon had to do was think in new ways, generate emotional responses and think more linearly at times in order to get the external 'ware to cooperate. After a good hour of testings, it was clear the external ware hadn't lost its touch (although it could use some routine maintenance of all its delicate parts) -- there were some glitches and other errant issues regarding the smart targeting interface and it's full operating capabilities -- not to mention that it had yet to work in such a way that it could be turned off, but this was a purposeful oversight -- Aolieon had other tech and features she wanted to incorporate into this weapon to make it more versatile and all-around visionary, and so the smart-link was focused on in its entirety to guarantee this only semi-desired capability worked to its full potential.

Seeing what had been done wrong and realizing a few incompatibilities; Aolieon resigned from the range and decided upon buying the Yukimura -- the old original gun from the 2040s would serve as a great backbone reference towards inventing her own original smart-link weaponry. After paying for the rounds and absconding with her new (but not at all planned to be used) toys, she resigned herself back to her workshop in her apartment. Some kinks needed to be ironed out, as well as some unconventional additives for where the smart link could go on the weapon to allow for scope and muzzle attachments. As she stepped in her vehicle and was about to head off to her destination, she went ahead and checked her messages, hoping to have heard back from the bruiser before too long. Much still needed to be done, but this... this now had a priority to it.
 
Aolieon's texts flashed into her feed after a lingering wait that was much longer than what two words warranted. Nevertheless, it was a tentative assent, and that surprised Therrye. She wasn't going to push or inquire, though, and she sent them along after adding three notes of her own make to them.

The target for the job was a data crypt, singular. Physically speaking, it was smaller than a rifle, weighed three times as much, and wasn't connected to anything outside of the room it resided in. Once a week, it was connected with a data source brought into the room to update its contents -- which were purged Techtronika files. A well-hidden worm in their corporate infrastructure was siphoning off parts of its deleted files over a long-enough term that it had been piecing together actually valuable information. While none of its whole files were current or next generation developments, the golden prize of a hoard was encryption data. With a years-long slice of the corporation's encryption outcomes, a running algorithm purportedly had unraveled the encryption key currently in use. If true, it'd be worth a small fortune. Even if false, there'd be data worth salvaging.

Standing between an enterprising runner and this haul was a multi-layered and air-gapped security system. Owned by a hacking outfit (rumored to contain between 1 and 5 members) named P. GATEZ, their paranoia was allegedly undone by a leak from one of its own members. Whatever the underlying cause, lasers, drones, turrets, galvanic traps, poison gas and more made for a deathtrap between entrance to the unassumingly small warehouse and its precious contents. Without the security keys, including at least one physical device, each system would activate within seconds of entering its territory. The usual suspects for easy entry (cutting electrical grid access and explosive entry) were both accounted for, and the layout was square in nature so that no side of the 'box' was (supposedly) more vulnerable than any other.

Short of abducting one of the members of the outfit who had the keys, it'd be a nightmare to access the data crypt, and seeing as it hasn't been updated in nearly two weeks, the window of catching an update in the act seems to have passed. The only real advantage in tackling the shelled layer of security systems was that, in separating themselves so wholly from one another, the crypt would supposedly be completely intact even if one bulldozed their way through all of the defenses.

Therrye knew she didn't have the finesse to pull off this job on her own, and as much as Ares could play 'can opener', opening up multiple security systems at once was an easy path to flatlining. Taking them one at a time would be the safer route, and the building, besides, was not built for one of the Goethe's bulk. On the face of it, this seemed best as a solo job for Aolieon. A scathing issue, though, was that the order of the defense systems was not known, and each system was designed to seal in the occupant to its specific danger. Unless you were prepared for all of the systems the second you entered each new area, you were facing a strong likelihood of wounds, serious or fatal.

This was where Therrye pitched her actual usefulness with the notes attached to the job detes. The first was schematic notes of the range of force the doors of the complex would be closing in with, next to the measured force which Therrye's breakers could apply -- and overcome the closing of each threshold. The second was a link to a concave ballistic and explosive shield, which would repel all of the physical threats from one side while even providing some defense to the lasers. The third and last was an emphasized screenshot of the detes regarding the final room sealing itself without entry of a last security key from inside of it and an arrow back to the first note.

Whether or not Aolieon agreed with the bruiser's assessment, of course, couldn't be predicted by her.

Regardless, she saw an incoming message from her latest drunken-texted date as she was wrapping up and typed up an immediate reply.

7pm Thursday. The Windsor.
I'll be there.

Smiling a bit to herself, she set that aside to look up later and finished off sending the digital transmission to the dancer.

From there, she returned to going over the map, and made note to check out a couple of the box locations she suspected held caches. Even if they were 'generic' equipment, there might be clues as to who put them there or why.

That put her to the end of a long night, though, and she took herself back to home to sleep after that. Exhaustion thankfully brought her swiftly to unconsciousness, and the bruiser would aim for the same by training hard the next day, hoping to drain her chest of all the blood the hooks had spilled that day.


Two days later

🎼 Dove Armitage - In Chaos

"You didn't drunk text me this time, did you?" The bruiser's gaze swiveled to the sound of the joytoy's voice with a smile only just touching toward snark. "Perfectly sober." Liliya hadn't even arrived late this time, and with a quiet slink of heels beneath a curve-hugging lilac velvet dress she slipped into the seat opposite of her. Having arrived to a pre-arranged reservation this time, Therrye had been directed to a small table next to a window overlooking the city from a half-dizzying height of a tower. While it wasn't specifically associated with one Corp, it had Corpo written all over it, and she was pretty certain her date for the night had met at least a couple clients here. "Good. I'd hate to have to chide you for real this time." A teasing narrowing of her right eye accompanied the words, "What a frightful thought." "Oh. Sweetheart. You have no idea," and this time, the way the Human said it alongside a brightly sadistic smile, a thread of chill slid down the Liandri's spine. Knowing what she might be capable of and being on the receiving end were two different matters -- and then there was the glaring fact that she hadn't seen her in two years.

What might have become of Liliya in that time?

Therrye'd dredged an actual suit jacket out of her wardrobe this time, and while she felt a little uncomfortable in it -- her thirst trap fuck gal days were now past -- The Windsor demanded nothing less. "Surprised you had time for me so soon," she offered to soothe her spines. "Gaps come up sometimes. You know how it is." She grinned, then; this was at least familiar territory. "Hard to imagine you ever have an hour of free time, actually." The joytoy returned a smile of her own. "My exclusivity has only gone up." "Never one to settle for second best." "Mmm. I'm here with you, though." The bruiser was the one to affect offense this time. "My pride. How I will ever recover?" "I'd suggest a few ways, but I'd wager you can't afford them." She laughed brightly, then. "Somehow you turn even a knife to the chest into a pleasant time." "You never know what a client might ask for," the joytoy replied with a salacious shift of her eyebrows.

"What do you ask for?" Her lips pulled into a dark smirk. "Chaos and torment, of course." It was hard to be phased by such an answer, given that she'd heard it from those very lips before. "And are you getting it?" "In spades," she practically purred. Drinks arrived, then, with a sparkling water for the bruiser and a dark burgundy wine for the joytoy. Therrye nodded in appreciation to the waiter, but could not tell if it was even noticed, while her companion did not waste time in slaking thirst. "Interested in something else then?" "With you?" Her brows flashed again with devious intent. "There's always room for more, sweetheart."

She paused, then, considering Liliya's expression before briefly looking toward the window and the view. This was a better time than most to disengage and pull away... and yet.

"You have my attention," she served up, drinking some of her water. It was vaguely refreshing and moderately bitter at the same time, bubbles breaking in her mouth. "Remember the summer fire festival we crashed?" Those galaxy pink eyes sparkled with whorling trails which suggested nebula gas tonight. Therrye nodded, explosive memories coming to mind in more ways than one. "There's another festival a little over a week from now, and I have some 'entertainment' in mind." Her gaze ran down and up the Liandri's form. "I'd rather have your hands than most others for what I have in mind." Edges of enthusiasm in the joytoy's expression gave her more cause for pause, and she slid past them all the same. "Tell me more." Liliya softly clicked her tongue. "Now, now. You know I love surprises." Truth, definitely, even if it was far from the bruiser's favorite since the ambush. "Guess I'll have to trust you again." "More true than you know," she replied, laughter practically pealing from her smile. "Can't say that reassures me." "You don't like me because I make you feel comfortable." Therrye frowned at that. She couldn't honestly argue it, and she didn't even think she wanted to. "Lean into it. You might have more fun than you expect," the joytoy teased. She gave a smirk and shifted forward in her seat. "And here I thought it was obvious I was leaning toward you." Amusement danced in the woman's eyes, the whorls glowing brighter, however briefly. "Is that supposed to entice me?" "No. You can consider it evidence of a change in heart, though." "Can I?" Her grin was practically all teeth. The bruiser shrugged, appearing somewhat nonplussed. "I'm paying for the privilege, aren't I?" Liliya chuckled softly at that. "Everyone does, sweetheart, but you especially should."

The bruiser was unsure of why, but she felt off this night. Usually conversation ran freely from her with the joytoy, and that had proved plenty true at Anatolia's despite their long time spent apart. What was so different this time? She couldn't quite clear herself of the feeling that she was missing something. Then she noticed a deepening thirst, some sweat on her brow, and a twist of sudden nausea. Having not eaten anything lately to have given her quick-onset food poisoning, she was initially confused. She'd just drank water several minutes ago and hadn't felt dehydrated before she'd walked in.

Then her vision of the grinning joytoy swam. Therrye haltingly stood up. "Lily?" she asked in confusion, gut twisting further and driving her to clutch at her stomach. "What's wrong, Thery? You don't look well at all. Let's help you take a walk, shall we?" Snapping, the joytoy was soon joined by a waiter who helped carry the bruiser out of the dining room and into a corridor before her vision tilted headlong toward the floor.


Eyelids fluttered under the taps of a drizzling rain, exposing thin rings around pools of black. The bruiser felt disheveled inside and out as consciousness struggled to assert itself through pain and a murky sense of vision and gravity. Her gorge rose and soon she was vomiting across the pavement next to her. Plenty of undignified sounds and coughs later, she wiped her mouth and shivered, more from an internal sense of wrongness than the ambient temperature. She struggled to get her limbs moving and groaned quietly at the effort, the pain within her skull only amplifying with the motion. A minute or five later -- her sense of time was hardly consistent, currently -- Therrye clumsily thumbed into her data feed, trying to get her bearings. Some accidental gestures later, she had a text message box in front of her vision, and with it presented, the thought came for query.

Wherd did you go.l?

Only after sending it did she realize that it'd gone to Aolieon.

Ofuck wrong nubmer
Soryr I"m
Fyck

Putting a hand to her face, she made noises of frustration and suffering. Exhaling, she drew it away and slowly poked at letters.

Sorry I am not well

Her thoughts were still muddled, but it seemed to make enough sense to send. Doing so, she leaned back into the building, well away from its entrance, and blinked hard, trying to get her vision to feel sane.

Wahtd the fuck happend?
 
Aolieon glossed over the detes of the mission, and raised an eyebrow -- turns out the bruiser had found herself quite an interesting gig with the kinds of challenges that the dancer did oh so love to dismantle. Of course, it had the machinations of a handful of paranoid, tinfoil-hat wearing conspiracy theorists painted all over it -- the thing about corporate security measures is that after awhile, a Corporation got a really good feel for where security didn't matter and where it was perfectly okay to be going overboard with such measures. There was a time to perform pest control, and there was a time to quietly observe. A time to relax and a time to be extremely hypervigilant. A time to fortify, and a time to perform scorched earth to prevent catastrophic asset loss from being appropriated -- agencies such as Netwatch, Militech, Tsunami and Arasaka were quite invested into these nuanced fields of security, protection and counter-espionage... and while dangerous in their own rights, it was always a novelty to see someone try their own obsessive hand at such fields, and unwittingly allow a Kunoichi such as the likes of Aolieon refresh themselves on skills that didnt exactly get a lot of limelight in the field of professional espionage.
And so, after sitting for awhile in the range parking lot and glossing over these things with the leisurely component of a cigarette -- Aolieon merely reacted to Therrye's last message rather than replying; leaving only a "đź‘Ś" emoji at it to let her know the detes had been acknowledged. After that came something a tad cute (which could have been acknowledged at a later date) -- an alarm clock emoji and a mere question mark emoji, as if to say "time when?"

In the past 48 hours, much of it had been focused on a back and forth between her workshop and the range, sharpening her MAC-23's smart-targeting to perfection. A lot of people don't know exactly how far a large-scale megacorporation invests into their R&D when it comes to weapons tech until they actually sit down and try to dissect it to figure out exactly how it works and figure out which mindful modifications and improvements are put into such a complex design; the same could very much be said for Arasakan smart guns, most particularly the Yukimura, as it had been on the market for nearly 70 years and still considered one of the best handguns ever made by many individuals, corporate bodyguard and Edgerunner alike. Hell, the Yukimura had started the smart gun revolution, and thusly for as long as it had remained in service with Arasakan rank-and-file servicemen and working-class Beavs who serviced their more commercial functions -- it needed to be updated to keep up with the advancements in technology that came with the times, making the Yukimura a phenomenal baseline for the design and troubleshooting of smart weapons tech.
So, when the MAC-23 experienced a glitch; the code-programming lines of the Yukimura came out, to see what it did to bypass it. When the MAC-23 reacted adversely to a different emotion or stimulus from her unique external smart-link -- the Yukimura was cross-referenced for safety protocols. Finally, when everything was said and done; work was put in to see if the smart-link interface could be 'relocated' to anywhere but the scope attachment -- after awhile, a simple recalibration protocol was uploaded with other minimal-bandwidth processing programs installed to the smart-link to allow the smart-link protocols to be disabled... and allow the interface to double as a medium-to-high quality holographic sight that worked off of caseless ammunition instead of typical high-caliber or advanced munitions present in guns not featuring smart technology. This was a grueling process and for sure it took longer than 48 hours, but there were other priorities to be handled and thus the MAC-23 pet project needed to be shelved for a time, so that Aolieon could work on other aspects of job preparation.

After awhile, Aolieon decided to return to the sinkhole-turned-metro station and use the simple but unrefined environment to work on her reflexes. Aolieon was old for sure but not in the ways many might think; still, the dancer would find herself performing a complex stretching routine and reminding herself how to move her body in such ways as to not only optimize a basic set of free-running skills, but also rework her mindset into remembering certain skills she had forgotten. Considering the excessive ensemble of all the death traps of the job; one of the things she focused on would have seemed like a rudimentary and menial skill but was actually vital -- that being Aolieon's own low-crawl. Low-crawling is dirty when it comes to how people approach espionage, but its one of those things that have maintained a relevance to the tides of combat and thrill, just as much as running might be the only option for many people in a situation. If done properly, one can evenly distribute their body weight over the largest amount of surface area a body can take up... which means that pressure plates essentially become useless, only able to register at most 40 pounds of pressure, even from a novice low-crawler. Aolieon slithered and snaked her way across different platforms and even ventilation shafts (another niche zone of low-crawling expertise; vent shafts aren't inherently designed to support the body weight of an entire person, and thusly knowing how to navigate crawlspaces in a way that distributes weight carefully allows one to sneak into certain places where a humanoid wouldn't be expected to be...) and so, there was a lot that needed to be invested in remembering this old move of hers; gone were the days that camo paint was a good idea for many sleuthers and stealth operatives, but even in the year of 2102 -- low-crawling had still maintained it's own relevance.

Just as Aolieon was challenging herself to maintain her form in a cylindrical sewer pipe, she started getting texts from Therrye. She grumbled, thinking it was Kaede or someone else bugging her. What particularly threw her off was the immediate text afterwards:

Sorry I am not well

When she saw the messages (and the rampant typos in the previous ones), everything was put on pause as Aolieon got mildly concerned, studying the typos and running through her own drunk texts -- Aolieon didn't know why she thought in the moment that there might have been an identifiable pattern between when someone was inebriated or something worse, but she did in that moment... mainly not wanting to get particularly involved if the bruiser had just hit the bar a little too hard. Then again, does Therrye seem like the drinking type...? The thought was enough for Aolieon to rouse her own concerns enough to get them engaged. She began to text back.

What's been flicked is flicked. Spill. What'd you get yourself into?
 
Therrye was staring at her hand when Aolieon's reply came in, trying to make sense of the way it seemed to vibrate and shift between shadowy layers, so that three to five of her hands existed, but only one of them had 'color' in any given moment. Blinking and squinting seemed to alter the effect in different directions, and turning her hand made the shadows temporarily collapse, only to re-emerge as it flattened back out.

While she wasn't an utter neophyte to drugs, this was a new one for her.

Flicking at her hand curiously, the sensations didn't seem that blunted, even if her arm felt a little 'far away'. Thoughts pressed and extended between hollows of greater clarity and washing jumbles of struggles toward meaning. Whatever was in her system, it hadn't been long enough for it to really start degrading. For all she knew, she might be past its peak, or still in for four hours before she reached that point.

Time. Whatts the tiem?

9:13. Barely over two hours since she met with Liliya.

Quietly groaning again, she rested her forehead in her hands for a moment before looking back to the outstanding notification. It took her a moment, but she got back into the interface.

Not qutei sure
Druggd i thnk

The bruiser did another series of blinks, looking at the streets. Higher Corpo places like this saw less foot traffic. It'd only be a matter of time before some cops showed up to drag her away if she couldn't get clear of her own power.

Shlod mvoe bfofer a pig shows

Putting hands to the wall behind her and getting some bearing with her feet, Therrye haltingly made her way up the side of the wall. She still felt cold and her stomach remained twisted and noxious. Her coordination wasn't completely shot, but the largely afterimages alterations to her field of vision and the sluggishness in thoughts and breath weren't doing her any favors.

Which directn? Turning through all four cardinals, she felt lost while she racked her memories. Remembering her map, then, she fumbled through it to select home, which lay to the East and a little North. Feeling like it was as good of one as any, she took her first measured steps in that direction. She hadn't bothered closing the text message box, either, so it'd come up in her visuals as soon as the dancer replied.
 
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