[hr][color=white][sup][h1] [center][img]https://c.tenor.com/-KxmKmF9G4wAAAAd/lizziesbar-cyberpunk.gif[/img][/center] [center][color=C4FFFF][b]BLUEJAY[/b][/color][/center][/h1][/sup][/color][indent][sub][COLOR=C4FFFF][I]Lizzie's Bar, Watson[/I][/COLOR][/sub][/indent][indent][sup][right][COLOR=C4FFFF][b]A Private Session (feat. [@Ruby])[/b][/color][/right][/sup][/indent][hr] [indent][indent][indent][color=C4FFFF]Braindance editing was something else entirely foreign for someone that partially studied the technology. It was not like modifying the mass-produced braindances for a clientele. So much information to digest all at once—sensations, sights, smells, sounds, and tastes. And working on pornographic material heightened those senses to the extreme. The pleasure of being loved in that fashion was incredibly addictive, even for an experienced sex worker. Fortunately, it didn't take much to get accustomed to the raw porno BDs from Jig-Jig Street and associates to the Mox. Silvain Cellier De Roos was in the midst of your average one-night stand at a dingy motel room. An unfaithful husband tied to the messy bedroom while his mistress rummaged through a barrel bag for the right plaything from the client. When she pulled out the discipline and whipped the motel desk hard, the cheating spouse was instantly excited and eager for the night. And yet, he wasn't unable to stop thinking about his cherished and naive wife back home in Rancho Coronado. There was a sense of dread for violating the sacred vows made over a decade ago. On the other hand, the mistress was furious with the man after learning of his married life two weeks ago. She wanted to tell his wife the truth and confront him about his infidelity. But he had the eddies to spare upon his "naughty lass." And it paid for the monthly rent at the megabuilding, not to mention enough to pay for groceries before the next paycheck. So, for now, she planned on taking out her anger on the bastard with the whip until she bled him dry of money. Only then will she act—even if it means losing a wealthy client. Those were some of the sensations that Silvain underwent constantly whenever he was working for the Mox. And while fascinating to listen to and analyze for days, most customers weren't psychologists nor wanted to be reminded of relationship troubles. That's why braindance editors are sought after—to maintain the illusion of bliss. Or to preserve the heinous deeds upon others for the extreme braindances that sickos treasure. For Silvain, it was just another day of dealing with raw materials for a decent wage. It took a few to remove all of the "unpleasant thoughts" and enhance certain ones in the memory. But before Silvain could've finished it, a familiar voice called out his name and followed by loud banging on the metal double door. He carefully exited out of the memory, making sure to save his progress, and took off the BD Wreath. And with enough time for Marina Galanili, Silvain's only confidante in the Mox, to make her presence known. Her polished olive skin and brown formal french braided hair (with hints of light caramel) definitely signaled that she was ready for her shift. Marina leaned on the desk with a sarcastic smirk. "Did I barge in at the right moment?" [color=009D9D]"Just your standard religious roleplay between some troubled souls."[/color] Silvain sarcastically remarked as he made his way towards the desk, looking for his pack of smokes. [color=009D9D]"But I'm guessing you didn't come all this way to learn that."[/color] Marina reached into her pockets and pulled out a sterling silver lighter, placing it in front of him. "There's a customer that requested you in one of the private lounges." [color=009D9D]"Didn't you tell them that I was unavailable?"[/color] Silvain asked right when he found the pack and pulled out two cigarettes. Marina took one of them and lit it relatively fast with the lighter. "He's apparently a big tipper. Has eddies that we can't afford to turn away." Marina replied while fetching the ashtray for the other side of the desk before taking a puff of the cigarette. "Susie Q would've interrupted your session herself if I wasn't around the dressing room." Silvain took his time with the other cigarette to prepare himself for his other job. He sighed and then stubbed the cigarette against the ashtray. [color=009D9D]"Alright, I will entertain him. Is it alright if I freshen up with your things?"[/color] "Of course, dear." Marina smiled and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Just make sure that everything's back in its place when you're done." Silvain smiled back and made his way out of that dimmed basement. The brightening lights for the dressing room caught him off-guard initially. But he made his way to Marina's corner of the makeup stand. Getting freshened up didn't take too long for Silvain since he wasn't doing anything intense today. Just a spray (or two) of fancy Italian perfume and adjustments to his hair to look somewhat messy was enough to get the customer's full attention. And when he was almost done, he received a text from Marina: [indent][color=FFD953]oh one more thing. customer's name is eddie. make us rich love! c:[/color][/indent] It didn’t take long to get to the lounge from the dressing room given how close they were to each other. Silvain didn’t know much about the customer other than his name and wealth, but he still took some time to prepare. Even known he handled wealthy intoxicated customers before, they were easily satisfied and willing to give out big tips if given a good enough performance. At the door, he made sure to correct any obvious imperfections before making his grand entrance to impress the client. Upon entering the private room, Silvain instantly noticed the customer was a white blonde woman dressed up like a suit. The way she was waiting for him to show made Silvain uncomfortable, which was impressive given the kind of shit he was used to by now. Still, he managed to keep his cool in front of the customer. It didn’t help that she was just staring at him without saying or doing anything. So, it was clear that Silvain had to be the one to break the ice. And that was what he did while getting ready to stand his ground—with force if required. [color=009D9D]“Umm, hi there… Think you might be in the wrong room.”[/color] Silvain rubbed the back of his neck while maintaining a rather awkward smile. [color=009D9D]“I can have someone help you out, miss…”[/color] Eddie found herself smiling at the young man's discomfort, the kind of smile that rose like the morning star across the plain of her smooth and undecorated pale lips, giving them a warmth they just wouldn't have had otherwise. There were times that Eddie genuinely forgot that her appearance could unsettle and intimidate; especially wearing a dark grey pants suit with simple matching button-up blouse that hugged every curve she had, a dim 'sheen' to the bleeding edge material. A useful tool for the jobs she had spent her life working at, but not something she spent time reveling in. When those lips parted and the smile rolled off her lips, the tone that followed it was just as warm. [color=F5F5F5]"I thought the point of Lizzie's was that you didn't have to be too nervous about who you met in a private booth?"[/color] She didn't await the answer, it was just a curiosity; Night City wasn't her city. Prague and Vienna were more her style. Brows raised as her eyes widened from their steely gaze of before, softening the features on her face as she went from an overly comfortable lean back in the booth's seat to scootching forward, sitting taller and leaning just ever-so forward as she took a quick and hard sip of the synth-Scotch before continuing, [color=F5F5F5]"My name is 'Eddie', although it isn't really, but as far as Night City is concerned...yeah, I'm Eddie. I'm the new resident Fixer at Afterlife along with Dino Dinovic, if you've ever heard of him?"[/color] She imagined he had. Everyone knew Dino, that was the main reason V had left the main Fixer spot of Afterlife to him. At first Eddie considered the stand-offish nature of Silvain might be misplaced, but then Eddie recalled just how dangerous she was, and in all the ways she was. She had allowed herself to be 'weaponized' as Eddie, Night City Fixer, and with that came a certain required understanding people wouldn't always love being in a room alone with you. It didn't seem to affect her. [color=F5F5F5]"I need a Brain Dance edited. It needs to be seamless and able to fool AI. I reached out to the woman who used to inhabit the basement you do now, Judy, and she mentioned I should check with the new 'basement dweller' of Lizzie's. Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but I need someone without any corporate ties for this. If you can pull it off, we'll have further business to discuss...as for payment, well, there's a reason they call me 'Eddie.'"[/color] Silvain chuckled at her request while concealing his skepticism of the newest fixer at Night City. It wasn’t the first time that he heard of fresh fixers that either end fading into nothingness or disappointing the wrong person. But he was concerned about how she managed to obtain so much information on the previous editor. There was a moment that Silvain considered just calling over the other Moxes to deal with ‘Eddie.’ And yet, he was too curious about the offer to let her go. [color=009D9D]“You make it sound so simple. I need more dets than that.”[/color] [color=F5F5F5]"Nothing about Night City is simple, except the brutality of it."[/color] She stood slowly, as not to alarm the man, the grey-blue eyes of the Fixer never leaving his own as she made her way casually around the small table, toward the door, and inches from him. The tone remained constant, and only the volume of her voice lowering. [color=F5F5F5]"Sorry, Silvain, but with the amount of eddies attached to this and the risk on all sides it has to be like this: in or out, right now, right here. Take the job, you'll get your details. Don't, and I walk out and you never have to worry about meeting me in closed quarters again. You decide."[/color] The only difference in her eyes, this time, was the look of true sorrow she wasn't afraid to show him. Silvain looked away for the woman and then, without any hesitation, responded. [color=009D9D]“I suppose there isn’t any law nor restraint in ‘this seething cauldron of vice and depravity’ of a city… Okay, when’s the deadline?”[/color] Her answer was a simple, small, rueful smile. The implication? [i]Now.[/i] [color=009D9D]“And the price?”[/color] Silvain asked directly without the bullshit. [color=009D9D]“Tricking a corpo AI with an edited BD isn’t as easy as you think. Not to mention the lack of info makes my job a lot more demanding.”[/color] They were so close, now, that the very break of rhythm in her breathing was audible to Silvain as he mentioned not knowing what it took to trick an AI. Her eyes lifted up in quiet calculation, to the left for a heartbeat before rolling to the right, and once again falling right back down to center on his gaze, [color=F5F5F5]"Twenty-thousand. Half upfront, half upon completion. More for later jobs if it works out."[/color] Eddie knew it was a big number for a BD edit, even a demanding one. Trauma Team Gold was 18,000eb for a year's coverage, without the corporate discount. If the job went south, if it came back to Silvain's door, he'd need more than Trauma Team Gold to save his skin. Fair price. And she imagined 'Lizzie' would want her cut, given it was her basement. [color=F5F5F5]"If you're interested in future jobs, anyway,"[/color] a slight rise in the pitch of her voice, as she considered the reality that the jobs she offered might get too hot for Silvain, and he might decline, even where no other Merc in the city would. [color=F5F5F5]"A runner will deliver the BD and have all the details you could want. Thanks for the time, stay safe."[/color] Her hand reached past him, the door opened, and she walked out. Something about the bar gave her the creeps. Silvain made his way over to the couch and took a seat in order to process everything that just happened. It wasn’t anything like he dealt with before since moving to Night City. Hell, even his previous occupations were never as tense. There wasn’t much he could’ve done now except wait for the runner to arrive whenever. But first, he needed to calm down with a few inhales of that delightful happy puffs—a drug that provided instant tranquility and delight (thus the play on words of happy pills). All he needed to do was simply get the inhaler from his jacket pocket and then get ready to breathe in the wonder drug.[/color][/indent][/indent][/indent] [hr]