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Cyberpunk City

Session 003 - TE

Reflection 1.0

Rays of sunlight pierced the half broken blinds, illuminating the dust that floated around the small apartment.

“uuuuuughhh’

I rolled over slowly, feeling as if the dance floor had followed me home last night and set up shop inside of my head. I had been dreaming about this smoking hot 3-titted alien. You know, the one everyone dreams about:

Images

Then the dream got blurry and something about an animal? Maybe a furry? I couldn’t remember.

My cat sat on top of the bookshelf, peering at me with scared and violated eyes…..
Running my hands down my face, I sat up slowly, trying to piece the night together. Nights of heavy drinking and Delerium always made the next morning a blur, but it wasn’t anything I wasn’t used too.

“A T4000 AD? Fuuuuck, who the hell did I piss off enough to have one of those sent after my ass” I thought as I pulled on a shirt and a pair of pants. I made my way slowly into the kitchen, each step uncertain. The Delerium still saturated a small part of my brain, making my motor skills sluggish. Grabbing my trench coat, I stepped out of my apartment, locking the door behind me. I slide my key into my coat pocket and I felt the cold steel of a knife. It took my brain a few seconds to remember that I had grabbed it from CYBEREAKFAST mere hours ago.

“I still can’t think of what I could’ve done to have someone want me wiped off the grid” I thought as I stepped out into the bright morning. One of those kinda lights that are just to fucking bright and makes your eyes hurt. Sliding on my sunglasses I set off for Astoria, the district where I would find this bimbo I was supposed to tail.

I couldn’t tell which made the trip worse, the hangover or the Delerium wearing off. I contemplated taking one of the last two hits I had, but I knew that I wouldn’t be meeting my drug dealer, Asimov. I felt as if I was being watched the entire way to Astoria and my thoughts were confirmed when I saw a black Dodge hover-sedan set down at the end of the block, two gorilla sized goons stepping out onto the pavement. As I ducked inside a small oriental sunglasses store named “Fancy Eyes” I couldn’t help but think of the advice the Asimov always told me

“Keep them eyes open”


originally sent 3.15.2012 @ 8:22PM – -TE-

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