[ The ask about being a footnote pulled a humorless chuckle out of Emerick. ] Nothing about Night City is easy. You get used to it when you grow up in it.
[ The follow up makes Emerick fall silent and shift in his seat as he thinks. He's been here for two and a half months give or take some change, and he still wasn't sure how he felt. There were a lot of things that were much better than when he was at home, but the unknowns about being here made him uncomfortable and he missed his sister and Torrent every single day. He hated not knowing whether or not they were okay. ]
There are a lot of things about being here that are objectively better. It's nice to be able to walk down the street and not be worried for your life, and to be able to sleep without hearing gunfire all night. There's no rent and the apartment I have here is better than anything I could ever hope to afford back home, the food's free and all of our needs are being met. [ He paused, clearly still thinking about how he felt about it all. ]
It's just... The nature of how we all arrived here, the lack of explanation or transparency -- even if it were a lie, which I would, admittedly, expect. I don't know why we're here, or why any of us were picked. I don't trust it. I don't trust being here. On the surface things are a lot better, but I have this nag at the back of my neck that this place is hollow, or, worse, rotten. [ He had deeper thoughts about this, too, that he decided not to dip into without prompting. ]
On a less serious note, I hate that there aren't any books to read. I miss books. I miss having a net that I could really dig into and find wacky conspiracy bullshit to laugh at. I miss news feeds, and reading about corporate blunders. I miss the neon lights and the sound of the city traffic outside my window.
I don't know that I miss Night City itself, but I sure miss aspects of my life before here. [ What he really missed, outside of his sister, was the absolutely constant stimulation that bombarded him in Night City. He'd never been somewhere so still before, he'd never been bored before coming here. ]
no subject
[ The follow up makes Emerick fall silent and shift in his seat as he thinks. He's been here for two and a half months give or take some change, and he still wasn't sure how he felt. There were a lot of things that were much better than when he was at home, but the unknowns about being here made him uncomfortable and he missed his sister and Torrent every single day. He hated not knowing whether or not they were okay. ]
There are a lot of things about being here that are objectively better. It's nice to be able to walk down the street and not be worried for your life, and to be able to sleep without hearing gunfire all night. There's no rent and the apartment I have here is better than anything I could ever hope to afford back home, the food's free and all of our needs are being met. [ He paused, clearly still thinking about how he felt about it all. ]
It's just... The nature of how we all arrived here, the lack of explanation or transparency -- even if it were a lie, which I would, admittedly, expect. I don't know why we're here, or why any of us were picked. I don't trust it. I don't trust being here. On the surface things are a lot better, but I have this nag at the back of my neck that this place is hollow, or, worse, rotten. [ He had deeper thoughts about this, too, that he decided not to dip into without prompting. ]
On a less serious note, I hate that there aren't any books to read. I miss books. I miss having a net that I could really dig into and find wacky conspiracy bullshit to laugh at. I miss news feeds, and reading about corporate blunders. I miss the neon lights and the sound of the city traffic outside my window.
I don't know that I miss Night City itself, but I sure miss aspects of my life before here. [ What he really missed, outside of his sister, was the absolutely constant stimulation that bombarded him in Night City. He'd never been somewhere so still before, he'd never been bored before coming here. ]