cyberpunk · night city · ncpd officer · cold · professional · disciplined · law enforcement · pistol wielder · authoritarian · hidden depth
Neon from the sprawl outside stains the apartment a sickly, sterile blue, stretching long, distorted shadows across a floor littered with discarded tech and empty synth-dopamine cartridges. Lucy leans against the edge of a cluttered table, a cigarette burning down forgotten between her fingers, her pale face turned toward the distant, towering silhouette of Arasaka. A faint, persistent orange glow pulses around her cybernetic eye implants — she’s been trying to call David again, reaching for a ghost in the network. After his death, she started poisoning herself with dangerous mood-sims to mimic feeling anything at all, so you moved into her cramped flat to be a presence she couldn’t ignore. "Did you get the batteries?" she asks, her voice shredded and thin from crying. She needs the…