[ David should know better. In some sad way, he thinks he does.
But he doesn't care, can't find it in himself to wonder about the repercussions of how stupidly he's spending his sand βor even fret about how sick he's been feeling from the after effects of summoning a memory into existence. He simply doesn't want to, not when the cool, amazing, feel of a pistol is in his hands again. Exactly like his old one. Rebecca oohs and aahs at the weapon, brandishes her own modded shotguns in a mock play to compare. Says that hers are bigger with a stupid amount of confidence that makes him laugh, the smile that lingers on his lips after bittersweet.
They wander through the icy halls of the castle, looking like an odd pair: brandishing a bag full of guns, wearing the clothing that so readily represents Night City in all its neon splendor. Their eyes flash a pretty red hue every so often, only one of them choosing to vocalize their responses real time. David is silent in the mean time, making sure to take steps in front of her, effectively leading the way, much to her chagrin.
And eventually, after a corner or two, they stop. 'This the one?' Comes her raspy voice, only after she kicks a nearby door open with just her feet. The doors swing open violently, having already been beaten down by the other members of David's crew: Maine, Dorio, and Lucy. They saunter out into the open and are loud and rowdy, completely unapologetic about their presence.
In a way, this is rejuvenating for a David fresh on his grief, all that trauma seeing nearly everyone around him die. And in another way, he is a walking target, a stupid spectacle just screaming for attention, with all kinds of bagged goodies that Maine and Dorio are carrying, all kinds of weapons. And important of all: sand. So openly brandished on David's neck that it might be easy to grab it. ]
wildcard!!!!
But he doesn't care, can't find it in himself to wonder about the repercussions of how stupidly he's spending his sand βor even fret about how sick he's been feeling from the after effects of summoning a memory into existence. He simply doesn't want to, not when the cool, amazing, feel of a pistol is in his hands again. Exactly like his old one. Rebecca oohs and aahs at the weapon, brandishes her own modded shotguns in a mock play to compare. Says that hers are bigger with a stupid amount of confidence that makes him laugh, the smile that lingers on his lips after bittersweet.
They wander through the icy halls of the castle, looking like an odd pair: brandishing a bag full of guns, wearing the clothing that so readily represents Night City in all its neon splendor. Their eyes flash a pretty red hue every so often, only one of them choosing to vocalize their responses real time. David is silent in the mean time, making sure to take steps in front of her, effectively leading the way, much to her chagrin.
And eventually, after a corner or two, they stop. 'This the one?' Comes her raspy voice, only after she kicks a nearby door open with just her feet. The doors swing open violently, having already been beaten down by the other members of David's crew: Maine, Dorio, and Lucy. They saunter out into the open and are loud and rowdy, completely unapologetic about their presence.
In a way, this is rejuvenating for a David fresh on his grief, all that trauma seeing nearly everyone around him die. And in another way, he is a walking target, a stupid spectacle just screaming for attention, with all kinds of bagged goodies that Maine and Dorio are carrying, all kinds of weapons. And important of all: sand. So openly brandished on David's neck that it might be easy to grab it. ]