[h2][color=ff0000]Chapter 2: Foundations[/color][/h2] [img]https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1137364901006934099/1181791888513187870/image.png?ex=65825876&is=656fe376&hm=3520df16682c0104dff131f439f9284d7d0d525e42ca86af76c28479afb16ead&=&format=webp&quality=lossless&width=937&height=859[/img] [@Shift] The trip from Westbrook had been relatively silent. Livewire hadn’t said anything beyond his vague joke, choosing instead to chat with the other drivers of Night City as they drove along. “Hey you, you fuckin’ dickhead, where did you learn to drive, ay?” It was sunset. Though the high rises of the City Centre blocked a complete view, fingers of rays poked through, allowing for pockets of warmth and light to flutter through the vehicles windows. Anyone looking out of them would see the sky had turned a beautiful lobster coloured pinkish-red. They could watch as the tall buildings of the city faded into the residential nightmare of Santo Domingo. The further along they travelled, the more dilapidated the houses became, until finally; “Welcome home!” The sliding door of the van rolled aside to reveal a run down construction site. Looming over the group as they stepped out were the skeletal beginnings of a Megabuilding. “Isn’t she beautiful? I know it’s not quite the castle to bring a princess back to, but everybody knows you need to slay a few dragons first, ay?” Slapping the chest of JV, Livewire laughed. “Big man knows what I’m talking about, right my friend?” Slowly the Haitain’s head moved towards the man, his stone-faced look unflinching. “On second thoughts, maybe not. C’mon, follow me.” Gravel crunched under the collective boot of the group as they marched inside. The rickety scaffolding groaned and whined as they climbed the staircase up towards the first built floor of the building. As they got higher, some of the group would be able to appreciate a beautiful view of the whole city on one side, while others would notice the stark contrast of the mountain of garbage on the other. The smell of which had also become a lot more potent in their climb upwards. “Don’t mind stench my friends, you’ll get used to it.” Rodrigo frowned slightly as if contemplating their situation, perhaps debating whether he shouldn’t have taken the blonde’s lead after all and left while he still had the chance. “And what’s the deal here?” “Don’t worry, it’s abandoned. This was [url=https://cyberpunk.fandom.com/wiki/Lucius_Rhyne]Lucius’s[/url] pet project before he kicked the bucket, [url=https://cyberpunk.fandom.com/wiki/Jefferson_Peralez]Jefferson’s[/url] anti-homeless policy is shaping up to be a lot more aggressive. There have been a few previous occupants, from Wraiths to the bottom rungs of society but it’s all empty now. Empty and forgotten” “No, I meant [i]you[/i] specifically, how are you involved with this whole… mess,” he continued, waving his hand around at nothing in particular. “Oh that. Easy my friend, I procure “[i]special[/i]”, sometimes off market items.” Livewire giggled as a warm and funny feeling washed over him. He really did enjoy his job. “My shop is in Watson in Megabuilding 11. If you’re from around there you’ve probably heard of me.” The man stopped, placing his hand on his hip bending forwards with heavy breathing. “Fuckin’ stairs, ay?” Getting his breath back, Livewire continued upwards, “so, I get this call from some shady garbled voice; which isn’t totally abnormal in my line of business, right my friend? Everybody wants to be some mysterious gangsta’ or a big shot fixer like Mr. Hands, fuckin’ gonks. Anyway, they call asking me to drive my van to a spot to pick a bunch of people up and drop them here. I was ready to tell them to get fucked when they also say they will buy some of my lower quality items too and if all went well, they’d keep me around.” The man laughed dismissively. “By this point, I’m intrigued, ay? Who the fuck talks like this? Normally I would laugh and hang up the call, maybe make a threat but then I see the [i]full[/i] amount get deposited right there and then. So,” he shrugged, “here I am.” Finally, with the last few stairs behind them, the group had reached the first floor. The place was sparsely lit. Flood lights dotted the very wide corridor that ran from one side of the building to the other. A generator to their left coughed and sputtered as tattered wiring spilled out of it in all different directions. On the group's right was what was left of a small tent city. Empty homeless shelters of the previous occupants complete with rubbish and all sat on the edge of a railing that looked into the open centre of the building. There rested a crane that looked as if it would make more money from being scrapped rather than trying to get it operating once more. “Mumma!” Whipping around, the group watched as an old woman, covered in tattoos and slightly bent over emerged from a tin shack. “Mumma, what are you doing, ay? I asked you to finish setting up the table.” Gesturing to an empty fold out table in front of where the group had come up the stairs, Livewire groaned. “C’mon Mumma, I’m trying to do business here!” The old woman hobbled her way over to the group, smiling warmly at all of them. “I’m sorry dear, when you said you had friends staying here I had to do something. I found some cooking utensils and a kind of kitchen in that shanty over there. A pot of stew is almost ready.” Livewire rolled his eyes, “clients Mumma, I said they’re cli-” Smacking his shoulder lightly, the woman tsk’ed her son. “Where is my kiss young man?” Groaning, Livewire bent over and kissed his mother on the forehead. “Fine, finish your stew and I’ll go set up the table. Love you, Mumma.” As the man left, the old woman turned to the group. “Ah, he’s a good boy. Does a good job for our family and isn’t one to be… messed around.” Her final words were as sharp as her tone was tough. Breaking into another warm smile, she clasped her hands together. “Now, who’s hungry?”