[img]https://i.ibb.co/kxPvVz1/cp-qiara-decoded-animated-text.gif[/img] [color=00aeef] ...... ........ .......... [:: [b]Heywood Apartment | Meeting Day[/b] ::][/color] The meeting details came in that morning, and her heart jumped for a split second at the notion of possibly having to leave the confines of her Heywood apartment for the filth and wretchedness of the Night City’s more questionable areas. Especially bringing her into the heart of Watson’s Little China, where [i]Afterlife[/i] resided, and plenty of other undesirables. It wasn’t that Qiara hated Night City, per se. No way. It had more life and color teeming within even the smallest of its veins. But rather, she saw -much like her father Lucian- a [i]better[/i] Night City that was taking too long to surface. And one that wasn’t living under the polished designer heels of corporations, but rather had a real say in where it was headed. The people were the ones who needed a voice. But the city was her home nevertheless, housing both a playground within the Net, and a Heywood flat that had become a part of her as much as she was a part of it. Imagine having to leave a safe haven, one you’ve spent countless hours molding and fashioning to be the perfect sanctuary for both realspace needs and those within the Net itself. The Heywood datafortress was built from the ground up, ironclad one could say, and mostly thanks to Qiara herself. Of course no one would know this. Not her neighbors, or the elderly community who mostly resided within the string of apartments and condominiums that lined a few blocks, or the corpos with their multiple flats and overpriced clutter safely tucked away in lock boxes and walk-in closets. Nah, no one would know except for her and one other…but she was no longer on the material plane, and most likely floating in some wonderful outer dimension. Or in a dream, perhaps. T-Bug was so many things. She could have been so much more. [hr] “So why are you going through with this again, Q?” The young woman stared into the bathroom mirror with tired eyes, as the reflection of someone she did not always recognize returned the gaze with an expression of bewilderment. Talking to herself as always. Through the anxiety. Through the confusion. The halogen light directly above her head had a low buzzing that bothered her. Something she had been meaning to ask building maintenance to take care of. But did it matter today? Not really. What mattered was that she simply had to push forward. This was a new line of work. New possibilities. And hopefully the information she needed to pinpoint the location of her grandmother’s digital consciousness in the Net. As fragmented and scattered as it might be. A few moments later, dressed in nothing but a black lace bra and low-cut panties, Q stood at the end of the hallway which led from her bedroom into the expanse of the brightly lit living room and kitchen area, turning her nose up slightly at the mess. And by “mess”, there was nothing more than a few items displaced on the couch, coffee table, and even slung over one of the bar stools near the kitchen counter, in an otherwise minimalistically decorated living space. She was, for the most part, a neat freak, never allowing things to be out of place for long as it seemed to only drive the obsessive compulsiveness further. Before she knew it, the girl would be wiping down glass side tables, running the vacuum across glossy tiled floors, and sanitizing the kitchen counters because she felt things were just not clean enough. But, mostly it was just nice to use her legs while doing all these tasks, even if it was for a short while. The anti-rejection serum helped the pain tremendously each day to cope with her cyberware, and manage to function normally. But she was always reminded by sharp pain in her joints of the small of her back, that she would never be normal again. [hr] “Ah-huh, and what is this bit of info going to cost me?” “You know a kiss wouldn’t hurt, choom” Qiara sighed audibly enough that her contact on the other end of the call could hear the obnoxiousness targeted directly at him. “Be glad we aren’t swimming in netspace right now, because I swear I’d kick your ass to the point that you’d be forcefully jacked out for an eternity.” “One day, I’ll get that kiss” The other chuckled in a low gravelly voice that added a whole new level to cringe. “I hate you.” “I know.” The man was silent for a moment. “Anyway, I couldn’t really find jack on this Fixer you told me about. More like whispers, but nothing really confirmed. Not even sure the lady is new to Night City.” “Yeah I don’t know.” Q rubbed both sides of her forehead. “Thanks for trying. I’ll catch ya later.” And before the other could chime in with a last ditch effort of some awful flirtatious comment or snide remark, the communication was cut and the Netrunner sat her head back against the chair cushion to collect her thoughts. She knew little-to-nothing about this person, other than she went by the name “Eddie”, which probably held its own brand of irony. But, regardless of what really brought them together, Qiara was determined to go through with the job, and hopefully the meeting would clue her in enough to know just how far into the deep she’ll need to dive. The time rapidly approached for the meet, which was to take place within the bowels of Afterlife, a place Q had never been inside, at least not in physical form. Safety was her number one concern, and the young woman had more protocols setup than most in her line of work. Anything to keep her distanced enough from danger but close enough to the action as it were. Holographic projections weren't anything unusual for business exchanges in Night City, and yet while most were direct-line connections to the host machines, Qiara took it a few steps further by layering firewalls and breaking up her own datastreams into billions of encrypted packets that anyone attempting to locate, interrupted, or otherwise hijack the connection would be in for a shit ton of work. By then, the Netrunner would be long offline. Of course, while it might be a lot of skill involved, there’s also an immense amount of luck that comes into play. “Ah, I see you picked an old favorite.” Nix commented on the incoming transmission from Q, and confirmed that all was secured on their end, giving the green light to proceed with the projection. Several optic lenses scattered throughout a small area lit up with beams of colored light near the workstation Nix sat at, going from one spectrum to another, as data was exchanged and the form of a figure materialized. A hooded character, the upper part of her pale face obscured by shadow, and dressed in a dark gray and white bodysuit, which had been the avatar indicative of a character named [url=https://preview.redd.it/vk0cyf7ldp651.jpg?auto=webp&s=be8fa61ce674609e0116e3c8da29ae44c9e53fa8]Kasumi Goto[/url], who was from a popular video game of the 20th Century. “You know me, Nix, always a fan of the old school.” Her avatar allowed a slight smirk across its lips, as a few glitches smoothed out in the projection and it was virtually impossible to tell the form wasn’t real. As far as all present at the meeting were concerned, it was about as good as they were going to get of the Netrunner in the flesh for the time being. She gave Nix an appreciative nod, before turning her attention to the others who had shown up. “I-uh, hope this is acceptable.” Qiara mumbled mostly to herself, folding her hands in front of her and trying to keep a steady enough composure while standing in a room full of mostly strangers. But, she was still far enough away, as this was her realm and it was easy enough to fake it from behind a wall of endless code.