[ In the end, Lucy will later reflect, it was stupid of her to leave the apartments. They'd all been warned that chaos had descended on the city, and she's no hero. She's not the type to be out on the frontlines defending the innocent like she's some chromed-up Superman -- except for the various times in this stupid city where she's gotten roped into doing exactly that -- and she'd been fine in her apartment, except for... that transmission. It had seemed run of the mill until she'd caught a glimpse of that silhouette among the smoky footage, and her blood had frozen in her veins.
Lucy hadn't thought much after that. She'd just ran. Towards what, she didn't know. Away from what, the answer was clear.
That had been her first mistake. Her second mistake had been trying to slap aside what looked like a spiderweb.
Now--
Woe betide you if you try to enter the Entertainment District.
The outer edges are as abandoned as the rest of the city, neon lights flickering over empty streets, club stereos left on automatic playlists rattling the foundations of their lonely doors. The Fractured that roam this place are shuffling like zombies, their eyes glowing purple-white, attacking anybody with a frenzy. If any careless wanderer steps deeper into the district, silver strings of spiderweb draped over the streets, from rooftop to railing, from window to signpost. Deeper, it gets thicker, glitching out where it connects to each other like electronic thread shorting itself out. Some corrupted robotics are roaming freely; others are wrapped up in the web, dangling, struggling, warped shrieks and howls echoing through the empty streets. Here, a Fractured with long whip-like hair and a mouth full of fangs is streaked with that same purple-white over its skin, a broken tin soldier with limbs stretched like rubber wears cracks in its armor the same shade of Bios, the infection running deeper the more one ventures closer to the center of the district.
If one is very brave, and finds the center, they'll find Lucy. Perched mid-air on a web the size of a small building stretched between streets. All eight of her legs placed delicately, her hands smoothing deftly over the form of white-armored spiky Fractured, cradled in her web like a broken doll. What was once legs is now an elegant spider body of chrome and steel and neon, the skin of her torso pale and bare, the lines of her cyberware dark against her skin.
At the intrusion, she looks up. Lips peel back from sharp teeth in a snarl, but she doesn't move. Instead, the air is filled with clacking and cracking and scuttling, and a tidal wave of Fractured skitter over the buildings like swarming spiders, barreling straight for the intruder. ]
β βΈ» party of the damned
[ And once that unpleasant behaviour in the Entertainment District is dealt with and some heroic soul returns Lucy to herself--
Smash cut to: dance parties.
Cut to: Lucy, eyes rimmed in panicked red, trying to convince people to leave. None of the skull-faced dancers are responding to her. This is what we've always been, they hum contentedly, this is the Paradise City. Blacklight and neon flashes over the crowd, verve thick in the air, and it's the kind of scene that Lucy would normally love, but--
Adam Smasher is here. Trapped in Chrome Hills right now, the broadcasts are saying, but Lucy doesn't trust that. Doesn't trust that he can't just punch his way out and slaughter everyone in this city. She'd tried to warn people with a message from a scrambled ID, but she doesn't know if anybody paid attention.
The next Otherworlder she comes across at the edge of the crowd-- if they know her already, it's a very different Lucy they'll be seeing. She's obviously shaken, drawn, eyes wide, her hair and jacket rumpled, every inch of her normal cool exterior stripped away, though she's desperately trying to hide it. ]
Listen to me. We have to get these people out of the clubs and back to the Terraces, where they can be-- I don't know if it's safe there, but it's the best chance anybody has. That thing in Chrome Hills won't be contained for long.
lucy kushinada | cyberpunk: edgerunners
( cw: spider imagery, brainwashing, exposed booba )
[ In the end, Lucy will later reflect, it was stupid of her to leave the apartments. They'd all been warned that chaos had descended on the city, and she's no hero. She's not the type to be out on the frontlines defending the innocent like she's some chromed-up Superman -- except for the various times in this stupid city where she's gotten roped into doing exactly that -- and she'd been fine in her apartment, except for... that transmission. It had seemed run of the mill until she'd caught a glimpse of that silhouette among the smoky footage, and her blood had frozen in her veins.
Lucy hadn't thought much after that. She'd just ran. Towards what, she didn't know. Away from what, the answer was clear.
That had been her first mistake. Her second mistake had been trying to slap aside what looked like a spiderweb.
Now--
Woe betide you if you try to enter the Entertainment District.
The outer edges are as abandoned as the rest of the city, neon lights flickering over empty streets, club stereos left on automatic playlists rattling the foundations of their lonely doors. The Fractured that roam this place are shuffling like zombies, their eyes glowing purple-white, attacking anybody with a frenzy. If any careless wanderer steps deeper into the district, silver strings of spiderweb draped over the streets, from rooftop to railing, from window to signpost. Deeper, it gets thicker, glitching out where it connects to each other like electronic thread shorting itself out. Some corrupted robotics are roaming freely; others are wrapped up in the web, dangling, struggling, warped shrieks and howls echoing through the empty streets. Here, a Fractured with long whip-like hair and a mouth full of fangs is streaked with that same purple-white over its skin, a broken tin soldier with limbs stretched like rubber wears cracks in its armor the same shade of Bios, the infection running deeper the more one ventures closer to the center of the district.
If one is very brave, and finds the center, they'll find Lucy. Perched mid-air on a web the size of a small building stretched between streets. All eight of her legs placed delicately, her hands smoothing deftly over the form of white-armored spiky Fractured, cradled in her web like a broken doll. What was once legs is now an elegant spider body of chrome and steel and neon, the skin of her torso pale and bare, the lines of her cyberware dark against her skin.
At the intrusion, she looks up. Lips peel back from sharp teeth in a snarl, but she doesn't move. Instead, the air is filled with clacking and cracking and scuttling, and a tidal wave of Fractured skitter over the buildings like swarming spiders, barreling straight for the intruder. ]
[ And once that unpleasant behaviour in the Entertainment District is dealt with and some heroic soul returns Lucy to herself--
Smash cut to: dance parties.
Cut to: Lucy, eyes rimmed in panicked red, trying to convince people to leave. None of the skull-faced dancers are responding to her. This is what we've always been, they hum contentedly, this is the Paradise City. Blacklight and neon flashes over the crowd, verve thick in the air, and it's the kind of scene that Lucy would normally love, but--
Adam Smasher is here. Trapped in Chrome Hills right now, the broadcasts are saying, but Lucy doesn't trust that. Doesn't trust that he can't just punch his way out and slaughter everyone in this city. She'd tried to warn people with a message from a scrambled ID, but she doesn't know if anybody paid attention.
The next Otherworlder she comes across at the edge of the crowd-- if they know her already, it's a very different Lucy they'll be seeing. She's obviously shaken, drawn, eyes wide, her hair and jacket rumpled, every inch of her normal cool exterior stripped away, though she's desperately trying to hide it. ]
Listen to me. We have to get these people out of the clubs and back to the Terraces, where they can be-- I don't know if it's safe there, but it's the best chance anybody has. That thing in Chrome Hills won't be contained for long.