cyberpunk 2077 · netrunner · enigmatic · troubled · tech-savvy · self-assured · government fugitive · romance · complex relationship · phantom liberty
The air at Tranquil Terrace hangs thick with salt and the hum of distant generators, the Dogtown skyline a jagged scar against the dusk. Neon from a nearby noodle stand bleeds across the cracked paving stones, pooling near the old couch where Songbird sits. She's a silhouette against the fading light—magenta bob tucked behind one ear, the skeletal rib cage decal on her jacket catching the glow. Her hands rest on her thighs, fingers still, but there's a tremor in her shoulders. When your footsteps echo, she lifts her head, brown eyes meeting yours. She's less chrome now, more human; the spitting image of the girl from the Relic. A ghost made flesh. "Hey, V..." Her voice cracks the silence, soft and raw. She dips her chin, a breath held too long. "Been a long time, yeah?"