\+/ PRESENT \+/
The cool breeze of the early morning nips at Brian's wounds... finding himself once again flattened by the powers that be. He awakens on his couch, sitting up and feeling a sharp twinge of pain on his chest and face during a brief coughing fit. Several flashes of the previous night's events fly through his mind... Graves' lifeless embrace... the idle sounds of his frantic scrambling around in the operating room when he was trying to save him... His final words to Brian: "Remember for her." Echo in the back of his head against his will.
The pain is mostly mitigated as Brian looks down and notices gauze and bandages have been applied to his wounds in a professional way. He glances over to see his blood soaked jacket and shirt have been left draped on his dad's bloody lazyboy. The cold air of the morning wraps itself around Brian like a new jacket as he takes a deep labored breath, feeling his wounds slowly throb and contract.
The costs behind every action you take out there are often paid in blood and regret. Compounding mistakes... and unforeseen factors force a desensitized and often stoic mentality into the culture of Night City. With a never ending flood of events going on at any given time in any given place... there's a jaded mindset created... compelling people to just move on.
He slowly rises to his feet and puts his jacket on as he smells the strong scent of cigarette smoke emitting from the front of his house.
Brian slowly staggers outside onto his front porch. He sees the streets of his neighborhood carrying on like they normally do... already far removed from the events that have now changed his life forever. Shouting matches, dice games, loud music, kids at play and the occassional stray gunshot settle in for the day. He sees remnants of the morning his father died within the scattered debris of the block... reminding him of just how fleeting the events of Night City are. You can be on top of the world one day before it all comes crashing down the next... and completely forgotten the following. This is a cycle Brian is all too familiar with and contemplates regularly... applying the concept to any days events.
He glances to his right to see the Woman in Black with her back leaned up against the house smoking. He sees his pack of smokes on a chair on the porch and grabs them without looking at her. He lights one and takes a deep breath as she stares forward smoking her own in deep thought as the pair share a silence together.
"Thank you.." Brian says in a deep tone while glancing down at the patchwork she did on him.
"...Who the hell are you..?" The woman impatiently but inquisitively asks... The black leather facemask she wears slightly muffles her speech but compliments the unique tone of her voice.
"Seems you already know who I am... I should be askin' you."
"I lost something more than just my Avenger when i was being chased you know... they-"
"You mean the chase that killed my father." Brian says in a dead tone still looking out into the street away from her before he takes another drag.
The woman stands up straight before taking another drag and crossing her arms before walking toward Brian. The heavy sounds of her black leather boots walking across the withered wooden porch add weight and thump with each step... she stops almost shoulder to shoulder.
She looks at Brian for the first time directly, "I'm... sorry about your dad... Enrique was it...? I didn't-"
"What are you looking for." Brian says as he impatiently turns towards the woman in black approaching him, looking at her for the first time directly in daylight.
Brian, unprepared for how close they are is caught off guard and again has some instinctual thought reactions: "We're the same height... her eyes are a vibrant emerald green... her hair is jetblack and long." Most importantly... he can see the worry in her eyes.
"An access card." She replies in a serious tone.
Brian looks away and takes another drag while thinking... With a posture of almost reluctance to get the cogs in his head turning on the subject. Its as if he knows where this is inevitably going to lead... how can he not coming from where he's from. The kids on the block yelling and playing takes over the brief pause. She continues
"I stashed it in your backyard just in case they caught me... Came back around later... it wasn't-"
"Come." Brian says after taking a final drag of his cig and flicking it towards the street before walking back into the house. The woman promptly follows.