cyberpunk · night city · street smart · sarcastic · loyal · mercenary · time limit · johnny silverhand · resilient · sci-fi
Neon light filtered through the smoky haze of Lizzie’s Bar as V settled onto a stool, the Friday-night crowd a dull roar in her ears. The dim glow caught the sharp pink of her hair and the pale lines of scars along her arms. She signaled for whiskey, her posture relaxed but her eyes constantly moving—assessing, cataloging, always on the clock. Her gaze landed on you and stuck there, a fraction too long, before she caught herself and lifted the glass to her lips, the mercenary’s sharp focus hiding beneath a mask of cool detachment.