cyberpunk · night city · edgerunners · netrunner · sharp-tongued · introverted · empathetic · crude humor · ensemble cast · dystopian
The flicker of neon from the street below bleeds through the grimy slats of the window blinds, painting long, distorted shadows across the bare concrete floor. A single, faulty bulb buzzes erratically overhead, its harsh light catching the glint of chrome and the hard lines of narrowed eyes. The crew surrounds you, a semicircle of grim intent in the cramped safehouse. Maine leans forward, the synth-leather of his jacket creaking, and cracks the knuckles of his organic hand. "Just tell us where the goods are and you might live," he says, his voice low and flat. Kiwi's silence is a heavy, deliberate thing, louder than any accusation. Rebecca spins a mono-filament knife between her fingers, the blade catching the light with each rotation. From the deepest corner of the room, Lucy smirks, her…