A Siblings Dream

*VrOooOo~* *Ping~*

The sound of my bike slowing down and parking was heard in the megabuilding parking garage. And simultaneously a whirring sound of the cameras surrounding it started sparking and turning off. They wouldn't be usable until someone sent maintenance person to fix 'em.

*BrrzZzZzttz-zoo...*

Which gave me an open lane to the elevator and to my sister's hallway. The adverts playing in the elevator only lasted a couple of seconds before they annoyed me and I stopped the replaying ad screens entirely. 

The gate to the elevator opened out onto the 18th floor of the 60-floor tall mega building. Trash is abundant and most of the wall below the knee was matted with some form of filth due to lack of maintenance, as well as...

" Spare some change for a veteran..." A man in raggedy ripped clothing and low-quality consolation cyberware corps passed out before leaving the vets for themselves. He called out already expecting to be ignored and looked pitifully at me. I lived in Pacifica though... I had seen hobos in worse shape there that could raize an alleyway to the ground if they thought you had more to give. So I ignored the man as I would anyone else.

*Squelch squelch squeeze~* "I'm glad I spent the last of my savings on this 'Throat goat 3000x'." Said the bum with a pleasure rig set up around his pelvis and a blocky BD wraith wired into it. He got a response, from me, unlike the vet, however. I wouldn't harass a man on his last legs, but I had no qualms about someone actively pissing me off with their active ignorance.

Purple code ran through my left eye at an incomprehensible speed showing the processing power of my custom-made Thunderstruck mk.4 cyberdeck, which when combined with the several processing units I had in my spinal column sent information close to the speed of electricity itself, the speed of a thunderbolt hitting the ground and scorching it. If I forced my body or found a better muscle synthesizer and compatible internal exoskeleton, could move at actual lightning speed, not for long right now without extensive bone damage. But now it would just be used as any normal cyberdeck s'pose to... to fuck up someone else's day.

Luckily if combined with the Kerenzikov I could still speed up significantly and have extra time to process it all. Not at the level tier 4 or higher sandevistans but It certainly outpaces the average gangoon.

The gonk's view changed from the slutty eyed joy toy topping him off with maximum efficiency into what could only be described as an old Eldritch horror. A giant decomposing skull, melting with bloody slag and the brain matter leaking out, the bums view was submerged in blood and bones, eradicating any semblance of horny in the man's head being replaced with the want to live to see tomorrow.

"FUCK OFF OR DIE CHICKEN SHIT!"

The disfigured terror screamed in the bum's face.

The disgrace of almost exposing my sister to any more of this filth promptly added a few new nasty stains to his rig, ripping the wreath off his face and hauling ass to the stairs. He made it about three down before he stumbled and bust his ass down the rest of the way.

Quickly assessing no one else in the hallway would piss me off to the point of violence I calmly stepped over to my sister's door.

*Thud, thud, tap tap tap *

Her door opened with a crisp sound of the hydraulics system 

" C'mon in. Clear drinks're in the freezer, so help yourself leave my whiskey alone, 'kay Mr.Drinky? " Kiyara chuckled at our running joke as we walked through the overhang and the door slid closed and locked behind us. She was dressed in her usual, a pair of comfortable black sweats, mismatched socks because she always ended up losing one, tan fluffy moccasins adorned her feet with a reaper-themed band tee underneath a bulky jacket.

(A/N: Image here)

But not one to take it lying down I sling some mud back. Verbally, of course. "Hey, I get drunk and I'm the life of the party," I gestured to my roguish manly face after pocketing my mask, and a hickey on my neck from two days ago from a wild night at Batty's. Then I pointed to her." You get drunk and cry about your insecurities while hugging a plush. We are not the same." 

" Sssizzle man. You say some gonk shit to me like that again and you can consider your 'life of the party' a flatline bro. " 

Wow, and I thought I was petty. What a killjoy.

A disbelieving look was given to her as a reward for the hostage she took, being the only type of good time she even allowed me to have any more substance-wise. A chuckle broke loose and my sardonic joke fell apart as we did the handshake we made a while back. Good ol' lock n' key dap up showed the worth of remembering it from middle school.

Our back and forth led past the kitchenette, grabbing a bottle of Tequila and Cinnamon Whiskey respectively as we walked into her living room.

I plopped my big ass (6'3, 196 pounds of muscle, and some heavier pieces of chrome) on her humble window sill seat while flicking the cap off my drink and taking a nice swig of the tequila reminiscent of jet fuel. I say that because I could enjoy the burn in this and that doesn't come by often, not after that nomad Moonshine.

My agitation was washed away through banter and jabs back and forth before a tone switch that caused a more disapproving air to exude from my sister.

"So sis," I looked up from my 5th of tequila and into her similar amber eyes, those eyes held a hefty depth like solid tree sap. " This is gonna be my first big payday, and I plan on keeping my promise. But do you really want to stay here while I do? Santo Domingo isn't the safest for up-and-comers business ventures..." 

She grimaced and took a swig of fireball as proof of how anxious the thought made her. " I meant what I said, death races over there need quality chop shops to rehaul the cars and keep the industry afloat. I'm not gonna let some gangoons scare me away from what I want to do. It's why I don't say anything about what you do, even if I wish you didn't hang around those people. " She murmured the last part. Which was Ironic because the car fixing business in Santo was usually run by Six Street. Or more specifically Militech as their backer from the shadows cause they used Arroyo as a testing ground for a multitude of products.

Many of these chop shops where cars were dismantled and junked for profit or fixed and sold to the highest bidder often had back alley docs who were 'sold' experimental tech to dish out for cheap so performance data could be collected. 

" Alright, alright I get it, sis," I chuckled at her disgruntlement. "But I need good hands on the wheels I'm riding for the job. I can make the gadgets but you are the only person I can trust not to steal it or accidentally blow it up. M'kay 'master mechanic'?" 

She grinned and shot back, " Sure, having a 'legendary merc' ride a bike I worked on will be great publicity for the grand opening. " 

" Amen to that," I lifted my fifth of liquid courage, half full, up to my sister's bottle as she did the same. " Cheers choom!" *Clink*

And we both promptly downed the rest of our drinks and fist-bumped. I walked my way up to the door before remembering to give her something. I grasped the sturdy grip of a small foldable Senkoh LX tech SMG.

"Heads up!" The weapon was tossed from me and caught by her.

" Y'know I do-" She tried to rebut.

" Don't care, didn't ask, cry about it. But just stay safe alright, the charge time is short so carry it with you folded and ready to go. See ya!" And I walked right out the door as a muffled "Motherfucker..." sounded inside the one-bedroom apartment. 

Can't anyone just take a present nowadays?