The cult doth welcome Zachariah R. Cook to its venerable ranks. We assure the public that their ascension above menial status was approved solely due to their skill and diligence.
Implying otherwise will see the insurgent in question promptly servitorized for their crime.
-----
The Aspiring Solo
[You sure I can't interest you in a new ride Jaquito?] The far too amused voice of the Fixer rang out in his mind [You know El Capitan always has the only best offers!]
Jackie Welles let out an audible groan [Fucks sake Cap, I already told you it wasn't my ride!]
[No need to be ashamed, Jackie.] Muamar Reyes cackled [You can appreciate the classics as much as you like. I won't judge. Much.]
[Man fuck you cap.] Jackie rolled his eyes [You got a gig for me or not?]
[Alright, alright. I've had my fun.] The man let out a final chuckle [I don't have anything immediate but I'll need a package grabbed tomorrow so be ready in the morning.]
[Thanks cap, call you then.] Jackie sighed and ended the call.
"God fucking dammit Mike." He grumbled as he rolled out of the ratty couch in his garage, and naturally immediately jabbed his hip into the edge of his coffee table.
He knew this shit would happen! But noo, apparently the crazy death borg he liked to call a friend found his comments about the Mahir absolutely fucking hilarious instead of the advice they were and decided to turn the whole thing into a war machine.
While not changing the look one tiny bit.
And now everyone thought it was his ride and not the borg's! Because why would a fullborg drive a fucking Mahir of all things?
Something told him at least part of it was on purpose, just to fuck with him.
He just stayed there, staring into the ceiling and ignoring the pain of the uncomfortable position for a few minutes before grumbling some more and finally getting his ass up.
Now freshly dressed, and still only half awake, Jackie stumbled into the Coyote Cojo.
"Mañana Pepe!" He waved at the bartender "Slow morning?"
"Jackie?" The older man greeted absently "Finally up and about?"
"Eh, you know how it is." He shrugged, taking a seat at a barstool and accepting the steaming cup of coffee his friend started making the moment he stepped into the Coyote "Even a Welles has to chill out for a bit after a day like that."
"Funny way to explain hiding away from curious chooms." Pepe rolled his eyes "Weren't you trying to get famous before?"
Jackie's smile turned strained "Dunno what you are talking about, Pepe."
And seeing the man's dubious look he decided to change topics "So, how is the family doing?"
Pepe rolled his eyes at the blatant attempt but still shrugged and answered "Eh. Cynthia's been getting all twisted up about little Marcello finally going to school. Doesn't want him getting in with a bad crowd."
"The other Heywood boys will stick with him." Jackie shrugged it off "Doesn't mean she isn't wrong to worry but not much she can do except hover, and that's just a bad idea all around."
"That's what I told her." Pepe complained "But you know how she gets."
"Yeah, yeah." Jackie nodded, taking a deep sip of his coffee "Still a lovely woman."
"The love of my life!" Pepe beamed.
"And speaking of lovely women." His tone turned conspiratorial, teasing "When is Jaquito Welles going back on the market?"
Laughing at the man's question, Jackie made sure to give the Coyote a quick once over.
Secure in the knowledge that his mother wasn't going to pop up and complain about his choices, again, he answered "Don't tell Mama but I got a date lined up in two days."
"Why not tell her?" Pepe furrowed his brows "You dating a joytoy or something?"
"Nothing like that." Jackie's eye twitched "Misty and I are just starting out, so there is no point in rushing it."
"I don't buy it." Pepe immediately says "You were never secretive about your outputs before."
Jackie frowns, and then sighs "Alright, alright. She has some odd hobbies, and you know how mi mama gets about those things. I'm just not sure the two of them would click."
The bartender just stared at him for a good long minute before snorting "That is the dumbest excuse I've heard in a while."
"Well it is all you are getting." Jackie huffed, but before the conversation could go any further he got a message from a friend.
[Gus: Hey Jack. You down for some drinks with the boys tonight?]
[Jackie Welles: What kind of a question is that Gustavo?]
[Just making sure. We'll be partying at mi hermano's penthouse, so dress nice.]
The Orta's penthouse? Sign him the fuck up!
[Anything goes nice with the Welles charm! You know this, Gus.]
[Yah, yah. I'm already afraid of the ladies falling over themselves.]
[As you should be.]
[By the way. You heard about your choom? The borg you've been bragging about?]
Jackie frowned.
[Something happen?]
[Nothing bad. Just dude has been seen going to the Afterlife. Thought you should know.]
It took him a few seconds to respond.
[Thanks Gus. Woke up pretty late so this is the first I am hearing of it.]
[No prob choom. See ya tonight.]
[See ya.]
The silence stretched and it didn't take long for Pepe to notice something was off "Everything alright, Jack?"
"Hm?" Jackie blinked "Nah, it is all good. Just thinking about something."
"Mhm." The bartender hummed, eyebrow slightly raised, and then pretended to focus on the dirty mugs below him while still observing Jackie.
Who had already retreated into his own little world, unaware or just uncaring of the observation.
He knew Mike was something special from the first moment he saw him.
Now that specialty may have seemed to be the fact he was even alive with whatever the fuck had happened to him that left him looking like a tiny human nugget with an oversized head, but he was quickly disabused of that when he watched the literal teen rip his way out of a shitty life through sheer grit and effort.
And then things just kept escalating into more and more insanity on an almost daily basis.
Now sure, Jackie could accept that someone like that would end up in the Afterlife pretty damn quickly, but the fact it happened this fast left him feeling a whole load of emotional whiplash.
What the fuck was he even doing with his life?
And why did Mike not even bother to tell him about it?
Did the borg know him better than he knew himself and knew how he'd react?
Did it even matter?
It all left Jackie feeling lost, and a bit bitter, even if he hated to admit it.
He knew he was wrong to feel that way, hell he was half tempted to slap the stupid out of himself the moment the thought first occurred.
But no matter how much he tried he just couldn't shake the sting he was feeling, and he soon felt his shoulders sinking ever so slightly as his thoughts began to spiral.
A loud clink ripped him out from the descent, his eyes snapping back into focus to see a double tequila still swirling from the impact placed in front of him.
He looked up to see Pepe giving him a flat look "You look like you needed one."
He blinked, and then sighed "Yah." He grabbed the glass and downed it "Thanks Pepe."
"Wanna talk about it?" The older man asked.
"I-" He paused and shook his head "I'm good."
He exhaled and got up "I need to go get some air. Need to clear my head."
The bartender merely shrugged and left him to it.
Jackie Welles soon found himself on the roof of the Coyote, looking out into the skyline of central Night City while his thoughts drifted each and every way, never letting him fully calm no matter how much he attempted it.
Ultimately, his anger turned from without to within and he almost snarled at the questions to his self worth, glaring into the distance while he wrestled with himself.
He was not some jealous gonk kid who couldn't take being upstaged like a little bitch!
He'd just have to catch up!
In his own way.
Slowly but surely, the anger and self loathing withered away, leaving behind only determination.
---
The Mother
"Thanks for coming with, Misty." Svetlana smiled at her friend "I know you have a lot of work to do without worrying over me almost every day."
"Oh will you stop with that already?" The younger woman rolled her eyes good naturedly "I already told you a bunch of times I don't mind hanging out with you. You are a friend before you are a patient."
"Yes well." The grey-haired cyborg looked away "I don't want you to feel obligated."
"I don't, Lana." The sometimes nurse sometimes mystic huffed, sidestepping closer to her friend and leading her further down the Kabuki Marketplace "So stop thinking about it and instead tell me what kind of paint you wanted for your walls."
"Hmmm." Svetlana hummed, looking over the many stalls "Mikey really likes red."
"Oh come on." Misty groaned "Red is terrible and you know it."
"I know, I know." She laughed lightly "Just imagining the face he'd make when he saw it."
Those words made Misty pause "Can he even make faces?"
She immediately regretted asking, but thankfully her friend didn't seem to mind.
"It is subtle but a mother notices these things." Svetlana looked up proudly before frowning "As much as I'd like for him to look... well normal, he could have changed himself a hundred times already if he wanted to... and I don't want to pressure him with my expectations."
"Isn't that what mothers are supposed to do?" Misty tilted her head.
"He doesn't need me to tell him how to live his life." Svetlana sighed over the noises of the many stall owners hawking their wares "He is all grown up already, and I don't think he wants me butting in."
"Lana, you are being a gonk." Misty lightly chopped her shoulder, her hand easily bouncing off the third gen chrome hidden under the older woman's clothes "Of course he needs your help. Michael might be among the smartest people in the city but that doesn't make him not a teenager."
"If only things were that simple." Svetlana sighed, picking out can of a harsh grey for the workshop and a light beige for the living room.
"Why not make it simple?" Misty asked with a teasing hum "Just talk to him about it." She tilted her head with a small smirk "If he is as much of a genius as you say he should know better than to ignore you."
"No need to bait me, Misty." Svetlana grumbled "I know you are right."
"And you best remember it!" She pointed at her with a wink.
The two of them kept chatting as they toured nearly the entire market, buying everything the Sobronov's apartment might need, and many things it would probably not.
Contrary to her worries about her son's feelings, Svetlana felt not even slightly bad about spending his money. He was the one insisting she did no work, and being grumpy about him being the provider was just downright stupid, so she wasn't going to waste time contemplating it.
Especially since he was the one who insisted on it to begin with.
Besides, it wasn't like she was spending it on drugs or something equally vile.
By the time the duo were finally done with their shopping, Svetlana's cybernetic arms were both lightly buckling under the sheer mass of random knicknacks, and even Misty was not spared from having to do her part in hauling.
Finally satisfied, they began their trek back to Misty's car.
Which is just about the moment the world decided: How about no?
A massive crowd had gathered around the main exit from the market where a fistfight had broken out between two Tyger Claw recruits, and of course it didn't take long for the whole thing to spiral into an improvised fighting ring.
With the cops themselves watching and betting along.
Needless to say, getting their bags through a crowd like that intact was a pipe dream.
Svetlana knew she could simply namedrop Mike and there was a good chance the Tygers would guide them through without any issue, but she also knew there was a small chance they were members of the small faction of the gang hostile to him and drawing attention for mere convenience was poor practice no matter what you were doing.
Which meant that, inevitably, Misty and Svetlana decided to exit via one of the many unwatched alleyways surrounding the marketplace.
A choice that left the younger woman increasingly worried with each and every step they took away from the main venue.
And the world saw fit to justify her fears near immediately as the racket their cargo produced was quickly noticed by the many bums and druggies who made their chosen exit their home, and a quartet of very dirty young men stood up and surrounded them before they could pass the distance.
Only two of them had shirts on, and all four had bats of some kind.
And they all smelled of cheap drugs to Svetlana's improved olfactory senses.
"Well, well, well." The apparent toothless leader of the band drawled like a shitty D-lister actor "What have we 'ere?"
Misty's eyes flickered between the druggies and Svetlana, and she felt her heart jolt when she saw her friend's completely blank expression.
Immediately she looked back to the man "Please, just let us pass. We aren't looking for trouble." She waved her hands to indicate just how bad of a fucking idea this all was but inevitably went ignored.
"Let you pass?" The man squared his non-existent shoulders "You hear that boys?!"
The three other man laughed and jeered like a shitty bandit troupe from pre-krash western movies.
A small part of Misty's mind couldn't help but imagine all of it sounded much, much cooler in the quartet's minds.
Before they actually said it, if the light wince of their youngest looking member was any indication.
"Now see here, girl." The leader sneered and took a step forward "This here alley is our territory, so how about you two-" He reached for Svetlana's shoulder.
Svetlana blinked.
She took a slow breath, completely unbothered by the sudden smell of blood, and gut, and excreta assailing her nose, and turned back to the shaking Misty "You coming?"
The blood covered nurse gulped, and carefully stepped over the four corpses mangled beyond any recognition, and hopped after her friend.
Though she did keep a few feet of distance at all times despite herself.
"Are you-" Misty's breath caught at the sharp attention "Are you good?"
Svetlana, covered head to toe in what was probably a fifth of a whole human, shrugged "Why wouldn't I be?"
Misty exhaled, feeling a profound sense of defeat, before nodding rapidly and hefting her bag "Let's just... get you back home, yeah?" They had agreed to go to Misty's and visit Vik while they were at it but something told her that wasn't the best of ideas right now.
Svetlana blinked, and suddenly her combative stance disappeared, as if she only just realized what she had done "Yeah... That might be for the best."
-
Their return was silent and tense, neither of them willing to speak up about what happened.
The neighbors dutifully ignored them as they passed them by, and only once they entered Svetlana's home did either of them start relaxing.
That was until Michael walked out of his workshop, dressed only in a pair of pants, and carrying a dirtied tray of what looked to have been messily prepared breakfast, only to completely still at the sight of them.
Immediately his entire body tensed, golden eyes narrowing "Mom. What the fuck happened? Why are you covered in blood?"
She felt a rapidly growing panic at getting 'caught'. She didn't want to worry him more than she did every day so actually answering was out of the question.
And it just so happened her enhanced senses caught something she could use as a redirection.
"And why do you smell like a girl, son?" She fired back.
The tray in Michael's hands fell onto the floor, and he promptly stepped up to the wall, stared at it for a good second, and then slammed his head against it.
This is exactly when a fourth person made themselves known, as a short girl Svetlana barely recognized from the video of her son's now famous rescue peeked out of the workshop dressed only in one of his hoodies, and looking incredibly drowsy.
"Mike, what the fuck is happening?" Rebecca mumbled.
Feeling his Mother's expectant look, and her unvoiced squeal of excitement, Michael smacked his head against the wall a second time.
-------
Deliver upon me thine stock 'o stone!
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