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V ⦠CYBERPUNK 2077
RESIDENCE ⦠Chez Eurodyne, Silverhand, Strife & V
GEMBOND ⦠Sapphire
"This is V. 'pparently 'm busy right now so leave a message."
INFO ā§ PERMISSIONS ā§ KINKLIST

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Which is⦠fine, really. No hearts broken over it, he barely knows the guy if thatās the case. But making a display of it borders on the territory of weird, but he figures thereās no point in getting ahead of himself. Might as well see what plays out.
Robert obediently (thatās new, too) hops off the bike in one smooth motion, turning to face V, cocking his brow and splaying both hands as if to say, āOkay, what now?ā]
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Just so happens Johnny's an asshole V's more than just fond of.
So, he's going to extend Robert the same kind of care that he would to a man who'd outright deny needing it. It won't make any sense at all to the younger man but, to V, it's important. ]
This is gonna sound weird, but uh... just let me say my shit 'n you can decide what we do after.
[ Just to preface this before the weirdness gets so under his skin that it's barely silent anymore. Might as well just name it. ]
'm real fuckin' glad we didn't meet last month. 'cause I think-- I know I woulda stopped this bike to fuck you 'n not thought anythin' 'bout that.
[ Yeah, now he probably sounds a little like he's verging on the almost-cyberpyscho he was not all too long ago. ]
Thing is I want to. I really do. You're uh... [ He gestures here, a hand lifting as if to say 'look at ya'. ] But I can't. 'cause if I did, I'd be takin' advantage of the situation. And I'd be breakin' the trust of an asshole you don't know, but I can't think of anythin' worse. I just...
[ Yeah, this is awkward. Real awkward. ]
...love his gonk ass 'zactly how he is.
[ Not much better. Shaking his head, V looks away and scrubs a hand through his beard. Fuck, this would've been ten times better at speed because at least then there'd be some kind of distraction. ]
What I meant to say's that uh... there's somebody else. And if we fucked? Don't think I could look 'im in the eye again 'cause I know this ain't how he'd want it. Even if he is a fuckin' stubborn asshole.
[ Was that so hard? Apparently. ]
If you're still down 'n didn't die just from my awkward explanation, you can ride us back into the city. Show ya a few places that don't got tumbleweed as the main attraction.
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When Vās done, offering the bike a second time, Robert shakes his head and huffs out breath.]
Listen, V⦠Iām not here to stir the pot, or to wedge my way into someoneās love life. Not my intention, and didnāt mean to put you on the spot. You really donāt owe me an explanation, donāt need to doā
[A gesture at the landscape.]
āall this. If things get too complicated, all you gotta do is tell someone they aināt your type.
[His lookās gone quizzical, stepping forward. Itās a shameāheād really like to feel this manās hands all over himābut Robert isnāt willing to pick up any baggage he canāt handle. Heās already got enough to worry about.]
So Iāll drop it, and Iāll take you up on the offer to take your bike for a spin. But you just gotta let me do one thing first.
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Uh, thanks. For the pro tip.
[ Sounds familiar. Achingly familiar. Least there's an additional request which pulls his spiraling thoughts aside for long enough to answer: ]
Okay. Name it.
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It's a heated, selfish one. But it also doesn't linger, cheeky in its promptitude. He's pulling away as quickly as he's initiated it, a smirk on his lips and an explanation following on its heels.]
Just wanted to get a taste if I couldn't have the whole thing.
[He laughs a little -- still such a strange sound coming from him -- revealing no hurt pride, no sarcastic barbs between them. Robert simply moves away to take his seat at the front of the bike, gunning the ignition. It roars to life and he raises his voice to speak over it.]
Shame, though. Could've been like that song from the White Album. You know it?
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But what Robert gets for his trouble - for that laughter - is a grin, one that's acknowledging V's cool with what just happened. Least their collective attention seems to be on the same page as far as anything else goes.
Hitching up his heels until his boots are rested snugly on the boot plates, he squeezes his thighs at Robert's hips and loops an arm around his waist. The synchrony is as immediate as before, and though there's a little more heat in it this time, V's already distracted by all the shit he hadn't expected to learn today. ]
Let's see what ya made of.
[ And that's all he says for a moment, gives the younger man the figurative reins to do with as he wants, to point them in any direction he pleases.
Maybe he'd know what the White Album is given a couple more hints, but since he's not from Robert's time-- ]
The fuck's the White Album?
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For now, the road's wide open, and he turns into it, heading back the way they came. The pavement's smooth, and though he's no nomad, he seems to have a good handle on how to ride, especially since it's just a straight shot back into the city. Robert thinks to boost the acceleration when V hits him with that question.]
What do you mean, the fuck's a White Album? 'Why Don't We Do It In The Road?' [The song he was referring to.] 'Helter Skelter'? 'While My Guitar Gently Weeps'? Come on.
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Nope. What kinda song names are they anyway?
[ He's happy to let Robert wax lyrical about all the music he wants. He's listening, sure, but he can't get that piece of advice out of his head. Not my type. The fuck does that even mean now, knowing what he knows. ]
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[Robert glances back, profile stark against the growing contours of the city beyond.]
āthat oneās my favorite. Could play it for you if I had a guitar.
[Eyes back on the road, he couldnāt help but notice a shade of distraction cast across his companionās face.]
Hey, am I borinā you?
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Nah. Enjoyin' the ride. Been a while since I was a passenger.
[ It's as good an excuse as any. It might not be the real reason, but V's banking on Robert not being able to tell when he's lying like people who know him better can. ]
Few places in the city with guitars. Least... a few 'm not banned from yet.
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Banned? [lol what] 'Cause you told them you didn't know who the Beatles were?
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[ Which isn't exactly the whole story; not even close. The guitar in question never made it out the store, but he and Johnny did, fast lane to the local jail.
Seems like a long time ago now, but that's the thing about this place. Time itself feels skezzed some weeks. ]
The Beatles? Yeah, I heard of 'em. Can't say they were big when I was growin' up 'cept an old choom in my clan who had this antique fuckin'... uh, they called cassettes?
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Little before my time, too. But yeah, they're called cassettes, and those aren't even all that old.
[Maybe if he thought about it longer, something wouldn't quite add up. V being older than he is, the math would dictate that band shouldn't be far departed from his time at all, but thankfully the notion is derailed by that "long story". How's he not going to ask about that?]
You kleppin' a guitar... Was that a merc thing?
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[ It was supposed to be simple, and really it should've been. Klepping that guitar should've been one of the easiest jobs he's ever done. Woulda been if him and Johnny hadn't started an argument, kept it going until the Diamond Guard had more than enough time to tackle them to the ground. ]
Got distracted. Gigs don't usually go down like that. Let my anger get the better of me. So - landed in jail, me and this uh... friend of mine.
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Then how 'bout you direct me to a music shop that isn't gonna immediately kick you out, and you tell me why you got so angry in the meanwhile?
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Definitely not to Johnny's. And honestly, that'd been true the entire time they'd been stuck together inside his head.
That gig had been a disaster, but the optimist in him isn't discounting the shit that got straightened out because of it. Still, if he had a do over, he'd try save it for after. ]
'cause I got the emotional filter of a five-year old. Somethin' bothers me 'n I find it hard to just... pretend like it's not there. Add to that people who're my family, anytime I got problems with 'em, it just makes it worse.
I'm a nomad an' some shit won't ever change. Family means everythin' to me. But it also cuts down deeper than anythin' else.
Got angry 'cause I had somethin' in my head I couldn't work my way past myself. Turned into an argument right in the middle of this store we were hittin' for this axe.
[ Exhaling a laugh, he adjusts his grip at Robert's side and takes a second to look out at the buildings that slowly get bigger as they head back into the city. ]
Sounds gonk but sometimes shit like that just gotta happen 'cause otherwise it just... it eats away at ya.
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[Besides, all Robertās hearing sounds like normal human emotion. Keep something built up and the pressure will eventually make it all go bursting at the seams, unfurling in an ugly wave. Of course, not everyoneās the same ā young as he is, unspoiled by jadedness, Robert still knows itās not so easy.]
Probably why things like that donāt settle well with you. Youāre used to havinā a whole clan thatāll support you when somethingās eating at your insides, right? Maybe what you donāt got is practice hoarding it all away when youāre livinā someplace that isnāt home.
[But what does Robert know? Sometimes he wears his heart on his sleeve at this age, but sometimes he doesnāt. V seems like the kind of guy to remain honest and open about everything. He has been so far, and heās known the man for less than a day.]
Everybody handles shit differently. No news there.
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[ So, really, it's an unusual thing for him to get that worked up on a job. But some things - some people - have that kind of effect on him. Nobody digs deeper than Johnny does. Nobody's got the amount of knowledge the rockerboy holds about V. It's nothing new in terms of knowing that; Johnny's got full access to use as he pleases. Knows exactly what to say to make things hurt, if he wants. ]
So, we'll to someplace different. Checked out couple of the other music stores in the city after.
[ Not to klep from, but he had to get Johnny an axe one way or another. Might as well head for the one he's a legitimate paying customer at. Murmuring the directions, it won't be long before they're pulling up outside that music store. ]
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He kills the engine, toes the kickstand, and takes in the sight of the storefront. Itās big, with yawning glass windows that allow a peek of the neon signage strung up inside. Looks like any olā music shop off of Earth, which is kinda weird if he thinks about it ā also is kinda preem in its own way.]
Well, weāre not stealinā anything today, but we probably arenāt payinā customers, either. [lol Robert has nooo moneyyyy] So letās just pretend we are so we still donāt get kicked out, huh? Nothinā a shop like this hates more than kids manhandling their merch with no intent to buy.
[He might have inadvertently called himself a kid but thatās not the point.]
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At Robert's reference to being a kid, V snorts. ]
Speak for yourself. Been a decade since I was your age.
[ Eighteen was fun though, he remembers that much. ]
Not bad at actin' like a payin' customer.
[ Which is when he extends his hand towards the door; after you, kid. ]
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Uh-huh.
[Thatās probably a bit like the Johnny that V knows, a little dismissive gesture to boot. But he still sounds amused.]
Sure, whatever. You actually know how to play anything in there?
[He doesnāt wait for an answer before he moves to the shop, opening up the door to enter. It looks bigger on the inside than the outside, all manner of guitars lined up along the walls, amplifiers neighboring them. Racks of sheet music in the back, where it looks like the keyboards live. A smaller, darker-lit room farther down with the glow of screens emanating from where Robert can see. Probably some karaoke or some shit, he figures.]
Ah, preem. [Predictably⦠straight to the wall of guitars he goes.] Look at this collection, they sell that many here?
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Learned a bit recently. Can play a few chords.
How 'bout you? You any good?
[ Of course, V knows how good Johnny is. He just doesn't know how young that talent started. ]
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[Itās muttered half-distractedly as he plucks a shiny black and sleek-looking electric guitar off of the rack. It absolutely glistens.]
Iād say I know what Iām doinā. A place like this? [He gestures to their surroundings. At the distant counter, the shopkeep canāt even be bothered to look at them ā looks like they arenāt really all that concerned with these two coming in to take a look.] I lived in a place like this, literally. First floor was the shop, second floor was the livinā space. You pick up a few musical skills in a situation like that, you know.
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Yeah? You spent a lot of time there learnin' to play?
[ Shoulder to shoulder with Robert as they look up at the rows of guitars, V's trying hard not to ask too many prying questions. Thing is, he's pretty sure Johnny wouldn't supply shit like this even if he asked. Doesn't mean he's not curious as hell. ]
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[Maybe this puts a new spin in the fact that Johnny and V had broken into a music shop to nab a guitar ā an ironic one. But for now, Robert has no qualms about sharing. Why would he? Itās no grand secret, no big bombastic origin story.]
My gramps owned the shop. Even when I was little, I was expected to pull my weight if I was gonna live there. So that meant learninā music so I knew what I was talkinā about when all the dumb college kids showed up.
[Heās bringing the guitar over to an amp, where a bunch of wires already lay ready to be plugged in.]
Know a bunch of records by heart, too, whether or not I liked it. [He sounds a little exasperated by that.] 60s, 70s, 80s. If it was popular from back then, then I probably can at least sing it back to you.
That doesnāt mean Iām gonna, though, so donāt get any ideas.
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