bearsrelic
under co.
indie rp for v from cyberpunk 2077. loved by puck.
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coming back here to say: v core
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like ik a lot of people say the whole Point of johnny and v is that they're completely different people, and i agree, but i think they can still be different people while having some similarities. in fact, i think that parallels make their differences even more stark. they're both musicians, but v never made it far enough for fame to ruin her life. they're both short-tempered, but v knows how to keep a handle on her impulses (for the most part). they've both lost people they cared about, they both want(ed) revenge, but v only pursues hers because it goes hand in hand with the last-ditch attempt to save her life.
i have to adjust v's bio bc i've decided that she briefly did run with a crew before going to atlanta; it was her and a couple of other girls who made a shitty little garage band called the furies and did jobs on the side. one member went corpo, one joined the ncpd, and one got killed by scavs. the last one was v's reason for finally running off to georgia.
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i have to adjust v's bio bc i've decided that she briefly did run with a crew before going to atlanta; it was her and a couple of other girls who made a shitty little garage band called the furies and did jobs on the side. one member went corpo, one joined the ncpd, and one got killed by scavs. the last one was v's reason for finally running off to georgia.
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘: 𝑩𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵!
rules: bold what consistently applies, italicize situational
does your muse, while fighting …
fight honorably / fight dirty / prefer close-quarters / prefer range / chat during / go silent/ low pain tolerance / high pain tolerance / attack in bursts / attack steadily / go for the kill / aim to disarm / fight defensively / strike first / provoke easily / provoke their opponent / tease / get visibly frustrated / shout while attacking / use strategy / focus on their battle / experience conflicting thoughts during battle / rush in recklessly / try to read their opponent before fighting / fight wildly / fight calmly and, or apathetically / fight with anger / fight with excitement / fight because they have to / fight because they want to / fight without regard to wounds / run away when wounded / hide wounds / take a blow to protect another / prefer a blade / prefer a gun / prefer to use their ability / prefer a bow / prefer a shield / prefer a pole arm / prefer a personalized weapon / prefer magic or spells/ prefer their fists / their greatest weakness is physical / their greatest weakness is mental / their greatest weakness is emotional / transform for battle / fight as they appear / rely on strength / rely on speed / use everything they have / hide their full potential / exhaust quickly / high stamina / doubt their strength / proceed with caution / behave arrogantly / brag after landing a hit / belittle their abilities / use psychological tactics / use brute strength / avoid civilians / strike down civilians / damage surroundings / avoid damaging surroundings / signature fighting style / making it up as they go / mastered skillset / learning their skillset / use improvisation / fancy footwork / sloppy footwork / messy fighter / elegant fighter / accept defeat / refuse defeat / beg for mercy / compliment their opponent / insult their opponent / use unnecessary movements ( flips, twirls ) / move efficiently / barely move / prefer to dodge / prefer to block / defend their blindside / has no blindside / use all available advantages / strictly use one main method / play around / hold back / fight ruthlessly / show mercy / wait for opponent to be ready / strike when opponent isn’t ready / fear death / fear pain / fear killing / has PTSD / avoid fighting / has lost a fight / has won a fight/ has killed / refuses to kill / want to die standing / would succumb slowly.
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aesthetics for the entities, part ii. bold what applies to your muse, italics what applies situationally or only in certain verses. rest of the fears here. this is based on a horror podcast; potentially triggering and / or upsetting content ahead!
viii. the hunt. sharp canines. sore calves after a run. the scent of blood. an adventure for the journey’s sake. the adrenaline right before the kill. a whistle’s echo. the woods. the doe eyes of a prey animal. your own breath in the air. sharpened claws. being tracked. fear of someone knowing your every movement. hunting down monsters. hide and seek. running away only to end up where you started. staying alive purely because the enemy enjoys seeing you run. a set of footsteps behind you. blood dripping from bare hands. barks and growls. focused eyes. a victim going limp under your hands. a mouth full of fresh blood. catching the scent of something monstrous. perfecting your craft. peering into the dark and running after it.
ix. the lonely. an apartment too small for a double bed. completely vacant streets. waking up to see everyone gone. fog. point nemo. a house too big to hear your family members in. alone in a faceless crowd. a mask with nothing behind it. separated cubicles. a deafening silence where joy should be. a blinding spotlight. the least missed in your friend group. streets without lights in the windows. isolation. not truly knowing your friends. your friends not truly knowing you. need for silence. fear of crowds. staring into space knowing nothing is looking back at you. a ship alone at sea. depression. knowing your friends are better off without you. talking to someone only to realise they’re gone. a family too large to notice you there. safety in being alone.
x. the slaughter. a game of tag. senseless violence. a true crime hobby. improvised weapons. blinding rage. intent to kill. a horrific day in a quiet community. a medal of bravery. holding on to what validates your anger. history books that spare no details. an injury you want revenge for. war. counting kills. songs of soldiers. a knife block on the counter. a pool of blood. shellshock. unspeakable horrors. anger pushing you forward. unimaginable pain. not seeing who will hurt you but knowing the pain is coming. a fully human monster. an authority sending its lessers to their deaths. kill or be killed. unedited wartime memoirs. a weapons collection. not knowing the names of who you kill. too many to remember. loss of hope. there’s no heroes in war.
xi. the spiral. sleep deprivation. corridors you can get lost in. maze puzzles that loop back on themselves. losing possessions. losing people. losing your sanity. corkscrew curls. rows of funhouse mirrors. optical illusions. a separate reality. walking through the wrong door. delusions. not knowing what your hands are doing. blank spaces in documents. hallucinations. wrong proportions. a nameless thing. a place that has never existed. doubting your own mind. blind faith. losing track of names, labels, categories. distorted sound. an imperfection in a glass that twists the view. loss of time. a garish colour. doors that open to nowhere. lies. an unnatural laugh. jokes and tricks. illusions. a doorway. a sculptor with a wild imagination. limbs in impossible angles. doing what’s fun, not what’s sensible. fractals you can get lost in.
xii. the stranger. wax figures. a close approximation of a human face. a borrowed appearance. a strange smell. glass eyes. furs and pelts. a dance. a song of a choir. the uncanny valley. stitching yourself together. the colours of a circus. a puppet with no strings. mannequins. glitter and sequin. a stranger you’ve always known. someone strange in the place of someone you knew. stolen identities. stolen skins. a machine imitating humanity. the anonymity of a service worker. hiding in plain sight. uncomfortable to look at. a faked accent. concealing. forgetting who you are. forgetting who others are. a replacement no one notices. images that look posed. the only one seeing the false face of someone.
xiii. the vast. open spaces. carnival rides going up and down. fear of heights. endless infinity around you. your insignificance in an universe. stomach turning at a drop. fear of not the crash down but the moment you slip. the sway of a cable car. an adventure holiday. losing track of where the surface is. miles and miles of nothing around you. staring at the sky and feeling like you may fall into it. loss of control. a fall that doesn’t end in death. glass floor to the view below. terminal velocity. the sound of wind in your ears. a reach over the railing. a jump from the top of the building. falling into nothing. feeling your feet let go of the ground. a leap of faith. motion sickness.
xiv. the web. undecipherable code. a puppeteer holding the strings. power over the weak-willed. strings of fate. manipulation. an arranged accident. a hundred minions doing your bidding. cobwebs. spiders. a laid trap. never voicing discomfort. outwitting a cheater. doing things without realising it. red string across a corkboard. finding something lost where you were sure you checked. power over the unreliability of chance. watching others dance for you. an entangled death. a thousand tiny legs and fangs. shady forum threads. something important gone missing. suspiciously disregarded case. a missing witness. connections. the world wide web. power of victimhood. gullibility. no control over your own decisions. an invisible leash. mass psychology. a horror film in the making. scapegoat. never remembering to ask for a name.
+ the extinction. the end of an era. apocalypse movies. the alarms of warning systems. a desolate landscape. end of the world cults. nihilism. the last written history. a changed world. no survivors. old prophecies. a thousand predicted ends. a new chapter. an end with no escape. catastrophes. a calendar counting down. breaking point. overindulgence.
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aesthetics for the entities, part i. bold what applies to your muse, italics what applies situationally or only in certain verses. rest of the fears here. this is based on a horror podcast; potentially triggering and / or upsetting content ahead!
i. the buried. weighed blankets. drowning. the comfort of a loved one’s weight. soil & sand piling on top of you. hugging so hard it hurts a little. cramped hiding spots. letting out air underwater to sink to the bottom of the pool. walls pressing in on you. not moving from a position even though you’re cramping a little. dragging the last second before you have to inhale. lonely subways. feeling like one with the earth. a layer of dirt on you. looking for something below. cardboard boxes & tiny pillow forts. hands calloused from digging. knowing that your purpose is just below the surface. entering your final resting place before it kills you. a storm drowning you out. dust & sand speaking to you.
ii. the corruption. insects. a close imitation of the natural course of life. an illness in a community. a rag that dirties more than it cleans. an untreated wound. containment. breaching containment. unbreathable air. fungi. one with what you love. one with what loves you. a corpse unfit for a glass case. hearing a song in the sound of tiny wings & legs. honeycomb patterns. an ecosystem within a person. a curse passed on. the hubris of a scientist. an ugly death where a glorious one is owed. blood on a handkerchief. parasites. something pushing up the sewer. a mask to keep something out. trypophobia. knowing you belong. death weeks after impact. fever. food that’s gone off. pandora’s box. death behind a glass.
iii. the dark. shadows. lights that turn off by themselves. the feel of cold marble. a beaked creature in the night. the difference between seeing darkness & seeing nothing. touch of something you can’t see. hiding under a blanket. white, clouded eyes. months without going outside during sunlight. pouring dark. unscrewing lightbulbs. black matter. light sensitivity. a starless night. time before light was created. a shadow on the wall without a body to attach to. withering plants. a world without a sun. footfalls in an empty house in the night. a light that doesn’t reach as far as it should. desperate reach for a flashlight. clothes that hide your shape. staying unperceivable. winter months in the north. an empty church.
iv. the desolation. senseless pain. warmth of faith. wax where skin should be. a blazing fire. heat without a source. the third or fourth tragedy in the family. losing everything you’ve ever held dear. so much to live for, gone so soon. the smell of gasoline. touch that scars. coffee cup that never goes cold. scorch marks on wood. inescapably warm air. a child born in fire. death of a loved one. a candle without a flame. an altar in the middle of the woods. animals with burnt fur. plastic explosives. burning hot metal. sweating in an interrogation room. never touching a loved one. disfigurement. a kiss that ruins you. the scent of burning fat. a tattoo that terrifies its viewer. the agony of hellfire displayed as art. auburn hair. little clothing in cold weather. a ripple in the air. trying to cool down in vain.
v. the flesh. body horror. factories. a hunger for something more filling. never quite happy with how you look. the terror of an animal waiting for slaughter. a very good meal. the liquid of a perfect steak. fighting your worst survival instincts. a twisted bone. long nights working out. more than one heart. appearance that shapes like clay. a bag of bones. bone broth in a pot. knowing to fear pigs. the butcher’s shop. plastic surgery. something alien inside your body. a hunger in the gaze laid upon you. unwitting cannibalism. forgetting what you used to look like. being admired for your appearance & appearance only. teeth marks on skin. scars from wounds that should’ve killed you. cooking in scarcity. fenced in with one way to go.
vi. the end. the last page of a book. nightmares that don’t feel like nightmares. a skeletal hand. the grip of the grim reaper around your throat. existential pain. ivory dice. flatlining in a hospital. gambling with death. as old as the universe. soul & spirit tied to an object. a dream where you die. closing your eyes for the last time. the pleas of a dying one. knowing the fate of someone you know & being unable to prevent it. a thousand cords tugging you towards your end. skin that’s freezing to the touch. an act of desperation. someone’s life for yours. an eternity spent alive. the cost of your selfishness. watching your own burial. causing your own burial. the smell of death. numbness to fear. words from someone gone. meaninglessness of the actions or lives of single people in the universe. multiple near—death experiences you refuse to die from.
vii. the eye. googling something you shouldn’t have. eureka moments. the unforgiving lens of a camera. witness reports. hidden libraries. eyes of different colours. feeling of being watched. a death recorded in tape. a tragedy you can’t look away from. endangering yourself for knowledge. truth. analog records. a symbol of an eye. a watch tower. compulsion to document. turning on recording devices without thinking about it. saving the evidence before the person. extracting information. truth or dare, without the dare. a thirst for knowledge. books that speak to you. coordinated shelves. cataloguing systems. voyeurism. police report you can’t put down. reasoning your way out. smell of old papers. books that read you back.
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MARGOT ROBBIE as Naomi Lapaglia
The Wolf of Wall Street (2013)
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i tried to make curry for dinner and i fucked it up SO bad (used celery salt instead of garam masala Multiple Times before i realized)
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the corner of v's mouth twitches, an involuntary smile as she sits across from panam. she knows it sounds insane; she and johnny started off trying to kill each other, settled into an uneasy—and extremely bitchy—truce, and now they're... friends? she doesn't know how to quantify the bond formed when you share a brain. "i mean, doesn't hesitate to call me a gonk at least once a day, but..."
an idea strikes her, and v sets her plate aside for a moment to shrug off her jacket. leaning forward, she shows panam her left forearm. specifically, the tattoo inked there: johnny + v, encased in a heart. "did this when i let him have his little boy's night out. acts like he did it as a prank, to piss me off, but it's kind of hard to lie to the person you're sharing a body with." and if her smile widens a little, well, that's her business.
"but enough about my brain parasite. how're things with you?"
“Really?” Panam prides herself on how much contempt she keeps out of her voice. Disbelief, because V is her friend, and she’d like to believe that she’s still of sound enough mind to make that decision. Being that close to him, maybe it’s the only real way that she can cope. From her lips, it seems a fair enough question, but one that justifiably surprises her.
A small thanks leaves Panam before she tucks into the meal. It’s no dinner under the open stars by a warm fire, but it does the job. Hindsight is 20/20, and now Panam can see what a good thing it was for her to have made her way back to family. She wonders, just for a second, if that’s what Johnny Silverhand is becoming to V.
Another fair question: “And… does he think the same?”
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calling her place nice is a stretch, but v appreciates it. her megabuilding is a piece of shit, and she still hasn't gotten all of her blood off of the glass where a certain rockerboy bashed her head into her window, but the unit is cozy enough. "thanks. wish it had a kitchenette and not just a vending machine, but it does its job." and it's not like she has time to cook, anyway—part of the reason she appreciates panam's visits so much.
v fixes a plate for herself as well as one for panam and crosses to the living room. "johnny? other than the fact that he's peer pressured me into smoking—" she gestures with her head to the ash tray on her coffee table as she passes her friend one of the plates " — i don't know. he's not as much of a dick as he used to be. he's kind of growing on me. "
“I used to live in a place like this.”
It’s by happenstance that Panam has found her way into @bearsrelic‘s apartment. Checking on her again, just for good measure. Not every day there’s a rockerboy overwriting your existence with his own. After what V’s done to help out the Aldecaldos, least the nomad can do is bring by some food or an extra hand. Panam sinks in to the couch, legs propped up and over the armrest, “Yours is a lot nicer than mine ever was. How’s Johnny doing?”
Not that she really cares for his state of being, but that’s up for V to interpret. How the situation is going, or if they’re any better at getting along will be clear enough with her answer.
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PLEASE TELL ME YOU GUYS HAVE SEEN THE KERRY/JOHNNY FANFICTION IN THE GAME
#v quotes this to johnny at least once a week sdfgsdkj#'i'm a half demon half angel and my blood holds the power of eternal life'#this is my favorite shard in the whole game sdhgfsd#ooc.
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@spakona said: if you want to go down in history, then i’m your prince.
SOMETIMES, HER FRIENDSHIP WITH JACKIE feels impossible. she imagines turning to her sixteen year-old self—hell, to herself from a year ago—and saying you're going to meet this guy. he's going to interfere with a job, you're both going to almost die. and then he's going to become your best choom. she would have laughed her ass off. but she and jackie have the same shiny dream, the same hunger to take something back from night city. to become legends. "don't i know it," she says drily, sliding a glass of tequila his way. "i'd say where would i be without you, but i think we both know the answer is dead in the river."
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who is she trying to fool? herself, probably. she's never been one to wallow before—when her dad left, when her mom died, she just picked herself up and moved on, pushing towards that glimmering hope for the future: i'm going to be a legend. it had been the dream that bound her and jackie together; it had been the dream that got jackie killed. and now she's dying, too. the malfunctions are getting more frequent, the migraines, bloody noses, vomiting, heart palpitations. it was one such malfunction that landed her here, curled up in the corner of the couch, wad of bloody tissues still clutched in her hand. what if i just ignored him? v groans, considers flipping him off, but instead brings her free hand up to scrub at her face.
"i didn't forget anything," she snips, dropping her hand so she can look at him. she looks as bad as she feels, face pale and dark circles visible even through her carelessly-applied eye shadow. there's a tremor in her fingers, the last vestiges of the malfunction ebbing away. be the bigger person, she tells herself. being at each other's throats all the time doesn't get them anywhere. "i just need a minute, johnny." her voice almost breaks halfway through, throat tightening, so she clenches her jaw and turns her face away again. "and you're not the only person to ever get on my nerves. get over yourself."
@bearsrelic said: i'm not moping.
“sure you ain’t.” the overspill of sarcasm might’ve drowned v at that point. brimming with it, the rockerboy wastes no time in twisting the knife in the wound. “and i’m richard fuckin’ night. who are you tryin’ to fool here, v?” his form materializes in front of the woman, glitching into existence, arms crossed over his chest— mouth twisting into a grimace. this whole bickering thing they had was staring to get really fucking bothersome, and johnny silverhand sure as shit wasn’t going to be entertaining something he did not want to be a part of. it was like dealing with a child throwing a tantrum, and he— clearly— wasn’t willing to put up with it. [she could mope all she wanted when he wasn’t living rent free in the slot on her head.]
“hope you didn't forget what's real important here,” he coasts her side, walking out of her field of vision. “i’m in your head, n’ i can feel what you’re feelin’. i know you’re a fuckin’ step away from bitchin’ at me some more, so get it over with.” he reappears on the other side, this time lounging across the couch they were sitting on, head on the pillow, an arm dangling off the edge. he knew he didn’t have to ask because she was most definitely about to lay it all on him, but it was the thought that counted, right? teamwork, communication, and all that shit blackhand used to preach to him like it was the goddamn gospel on sunday morning. him, santiago, and their merry band of hopped up fuckheads.
#v: be the bigger person#also v: get over yourself <3#IC.#abysel#abysel 001.#abysel (johnny).#ACT 02.
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im abt to fall asleep at my desk send assistance
girl help my research methods prof is going over the peer review process and how conferences work, both things i already understand :(
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girl help my research methods prof is going over the peer review process and how conferences work, both things i already understand :(
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v, listening to an album that was recorded in one hour in someone's basement with like, the bare minimum of equipment: delicious. finally, some good fucking food
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