\+/ PAST \+/
The neon soaked cityscape of Night City glows bright on a Friday night. The loud booming music of Lizzie's Bar cascades throughout the densely packed block drowning out car horns, commotion and loud conversation. Tourists and night citizens walk the streets with high energy and debauchery on their minds. Everything from stock Rayfields to modified street racers loaded with Choo2 reflect and shine bright under the neon lights of Lizzie's parking lot.
Throughout the noise and chaos of the night, a loud thumping is heard across the street... the sound of a steel baseball bat crushing bone leaves a man screaming in pain. A crowd gathered around the commotion includes suits, bar hoppers, and gangers of various outfits cheering and looking on... some with disgust... some with astonishment... and some with arousal. Within the crowd... given a wide birth, stood another smaller circle... glowing with vibrant colors... hot pink platform shoes, tight turquoise spandex and jewelry that glowed brighter than the sun worn by a small group of toned, voluptuous, skin showing women screaming and cheering on.
Within THAT circle, the back of a denim jean jacket is brought into focus... rocking the patch of a bow-topped turquoise and pink neon glowing skull on it. The blood soaked red bat lay beside the woman on top of the man beating him nearly unconscious. As its revealed the woman in the center is Marilyn, she grabs the corpo by his collar and pulls him in close. With blood streaming from a cut in her mouth and her eyes wide open, she yells through her blood stained teeth nearly exhausted from the beatdown, "DON'T FUCK WITH THE MOXES.." before punching him a final time, leaving him in a bloody puddle lifeless on the pavement. Marilyn is assisted back to her feet by her sisters who shower her with pats and praise as they all walk away, making the crowd disperse. Marilyn walks up to the joytoy the corpo was involved with stood off to the side... gently grabbing her face and looking her over... the young woman with her clothes torn sports cuts and bruises on her neck, face and forearm. Marilyn pulls her in close resting the sobbing young lady's head on her chest while consoling her.
With the joytoy in her arms, Marilyn glances past her up the sidewalk to see Brian crossing the street towards her from Lizzie's Bar. Her eyes light up and widen at the sight of him as her voice cracks and she instinctually calls out to him; "BRIAN!?"
"Take her." She glances over and calmly whispers to the other Moxes... they gently escort the joytoy back across the street toward Lizzies.
She walks up to Brian and punches him in the chest stumbling him slightly.
"Where the FUCK have you been Varga."
Ignoring her question, Brian grabs her beautiful face... looking over her wounds and wiping the blood with his bare hand.
"What the hell are you doing..?" He whispers calmly... his eyebrows wrinkled.
Marilyn stumbling over her words shouts back frantic.
"Uh? pf- what am I DO?- WAITING FOR YOU! You haven't.. called.. you haven't been answering me! I didn't know WHERE YOU WERE!!! YOU LEFT M-"
Brian stops her outcry with a long deep kiss while still holding on to her face... getting her blood on his face.
Marilyn breaks eye contact... looking down with a tight grip on his wrists... her tone shifts to worry.
"I don't know... what i'm doing here... you... you didn't tell me.. what to-"
"-Exactly." He says cutting her off. "This is who you're becoming Marilyn... without me telling you what to do... that's why its important that you know exactly what you're doing... and i don't. Your path is yours to walk."
"This isn't my path.." Marilyn whispers holding his wrists tightly.
A brief pause happens amongst the intense nightlife of the city... Brian still holding onto her face looks down past her almost with guilt.
"...It is now." He whispers barely audible over the loud sounds of a night on the town.
She looks up at Brian distressed. "Varga... i-"
"Come." He turns with his arm around Marilyn pulling her in close. She rests her head on his chest as the pair walk up the street a few yards. Marilyn stares at her cut, bloody and bruised knuckles... as if she doesn't recognize her own hands.
"We need to talk." Brian pulls out a pack of smokes... gently placing one on her lips before caressing her cheek and lighting it for her. He lights one of his own as they take a seat on the edge of a structure. Her tight, thigh high denim shorts rub against the concrete as she crosses her bare legs. She inhales deep and exhales even harder.
"Listen, me and Graves got into some shit... It wasn't-"
"-Why didn't you tell me." She cuts him off exhausted... no eye contact.
"Too dangerous. Shit got outta hand with this Maelstrom deal... we were with-"
"-I can help you... and you won't let me.... What do you think that feels like..?"
"This isn't a fuckin' college course Mare- people die."
"AND YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT!?" She shouts uncrossing her legs, turning toward him. "You stick me here in Watson then split without so much as a 'good luck, ya got this'? Popping in and out of my life whenever you want!?"
She takes another drag... calming herself. "Everything you've been teaching me... all of the training... all of the busy work. Why? Just to... Varga... if something were to happen-"
"-There's a wreath that I have stashed with Graves... belongs to this Maelstrom fuck head that owes us some serious eds. We know hes got the scratch... apparently the guy's been hoarding from his entire crew. Graves' girl Allie confirmed it for us... deep in Maelstrom turf. Thing is, gonk never leaves the block let alone their flophouse... too busy neck deep in XBDs or high off his ass on S-Keef. Guys such an isolated prick none of his chooms even come around him anymore."
Marilyn continuing to smoke looks over at the parking lot of Lizzies and sees her girls coming back out front. The high-polish, neon gloss on her fingernails catches the light glow of the city perfectly reflecting their vibrant color. Marilyn's outfit is a perfect display of the grit and beauty brought about by the Night City street life. The active mentality she carries day in and day out has gone on to define her in significant and powerful ways. As her rep as a Mox increases... so does her capability with Brian's guidance. He continues
"Hes looking for a custom tuning and gave his wreath to Allie for some reason... I don't know... guy's an idiot. Thing is, after that shit that went down with Softsys my tuner skipped town a long time ago... We need somethin' that'll keep him occupied while something a bit more... deliberate happens... we're at a dead end here Mare."
The two of them share a brief pause in each other's company while smoking. The stray laughter and party atmosphere of the area settles in as thoughts weigh heavy on both of their minds. Unlike some of their high energy romps through the streets they've shared in the recent past... tonight's different. Its as if the pair rest sat a crossroad. In Night City... the choices... the decisions you make often go on to define you. The never ending rat race between the haves and have nots is often what drives people to take those daring risks... sending em right over the edge.
"My sister." She mutters breaking the silence. "She has this good friend of hers.."
"Who? What's their name?" He asks hopeful.
"Ummm... ahh, i can't remember... whenever i'm at clouds though I see her staring at me alot... uhm... sometimes.."
Brian looks over at Marilyn with wrinkled eyebrows and a puzzled expression.. she looks over at him awkwardly... a light shake of the head.
"Its... kinda weird- Anyway, apparently shes a real wizard with all that tech stuff and does like.. high level custom tuning all the time. Eve's always talkin' about how good she is. I think they've gotten pretty close to each other... 'specially recently."
"Is she game?"
"I don't know Varga I have to ask Evelyn... you know how she can be."