TheHoneyPot
Yet what is any ocean but a multitude of drops?
- Joined
- Oct 15, 2022
- Messages
- 795
yeah the producer
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Ghost in the City: Cyberpunk Gamer SI
- Thread starter Seras
- Start date
Rin_Morita
[Hunter of Hunters] [Wielder of Malfeasance]
- Joined
- Sep 12, 2019
- Messages
- 345
More Motoko shenanigans are required. I do wonder if she played Warframe before getting yeeted into Cyberpunk.
Could introduce Warframe music to Cyberpunk. If nothing else, the aesthetic would probably catch on really quick considering a lot of the stuff is Japanese in style.
Nikanas, the Edo armor plates (though I prefer the Prime stuff), and a number of things like the Shawzin. Heh. Gamer Motoko making games.
Could introduce Warframe music to Cyberpunk. If nothing else, the aesthetic would probably catch on really quick considering a lot of the stuff is Japanese in style.
Nikanas, the Edo armor plates (though I prefer the Prime stuff), and a number of things like the Shawzin. Heh. Gamer Motoko making games.
MC2
Know what you're doing yet?
- Joined
- Oct 10, 2018
- Messages
- 220
The amount is going to be both prodigious and woefully insufficient at the same time, as usual.
Тенши
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Sep 2, 2020
- Messages
- 487
By the way, I'm interested in one thing. Educational braindances are completely canon. Why didn't Motoko even think of doing this to enhance the skill and survival of her friends? A little refinement (a little for Toko, for the rest it's probably years of work) and you'll get an extremely exciting virtual reality, which over time increases in complexity and requires very real skills to solve the tasks set in it. Starting literally from children's steps, gradually and imperceptibly increasing the difficulty, they will be able to master many useful skills, and develop reflexes for a variety of combat situations, in relative safety. Especially if the combat experience is almost completely conveyed. Pain is a damn good teacher. Unless, of course, they explain to you exactly what you're doing wrong.
Last edited:
OneFallLeaf
That Fucking Dwarf was Right
- Joined
- Jul 8, 2022
- Messages
- 613
I can recall Toko using them herself for netrunning at the very beginning, I think she also provided some to Malcolm at one point? But there's nothing stopping them from getting them themselves, nor this having happened offscreen
Onyro and Oni song
New
UndeadLord22
Fan Composer
- Joined
- Nov 23, 2021
- Messages
- 710
Title: Onyro and Oni song (Unintentionally)
Motoko makes a theme song for the two of them (unknowingly)
AN: Reposting from SpaceBattles. For posterity ofc. Kinda ass for only 1 site to know about this kind of snippet/omake.
The dim glow of Motoko's laptop screen was the only real light on in their new flat… Or it was technically growing old as time passes now. The faint hum of the city filtered through the metal slats over the window—distant sirens, the low rumble of AVs overhead, the occasional bark of a street vendor—but inside, it was quiet. Just her, the soft clicks of keys, and the rhythmic tap of her fingers against the worn keys as she tweaked yet another piece of daemon code.
She leaned back in the creaky chair, stretching her arms overhead, feeling the familiar pull of muscles that were finally starting to feel like her own again after all the grinding.
'Breach Protocol subroutines... still clunky. Need to optimize the handshake sequence.'
Her eyes drifted over the lines of code, half-lost in the flow, when something sparked.
Not a bug fix. Not an efficiency gain.
A melody.
It hit her like a rogue quickhack—sharp, unbidden, insistent. A driving beat, heavy synths layered under a haunting vocal line, something fierce and mournful all at once. Words started forming in her head, fragmented at first, then locking together like perfectly slotted chrome.
Bang bang... they shot them down...
She blinked, fingers freezing over the keys. Where the hell had that come from? She hadn't been listening to anything like it lately. No radio, no shards. Just... inspiration. Pure, stupid inspiration.
That was what she first thought, but there was a narrowly annoying piece of mind that was in the back of her head that she was certain she had heard that somewhere… In her first life…
But no dice.
Motoko exhaled slowly, saving her code with a quick keystroke before opening a fresh audio editor shard. Her Rockerboy skill might still be low-level, but she'd messed around enough with beats and vocal synths to know her way around a track. Thumbs flew across the touchpad as she laid down the backbone—a pounding electronic rhythm, distorted guitars that sounded like chainsaws in the rain, and a vocal filter that made her voice echo like it was coming from the other side of a grave.
The lyrics poured out.
Bang bang, two legends, one legacy...
Surrounded by enemies...
Go ahead and cry... you're all about to die...
She layered in more. Battle cries turned into choruses. A sense of unbreakable bond against impossible odds. Blood, grime, laughter in the face of death. It felt... personal. Like it had been waiting inside her all along.
Combined as one, you'd wonder why their enemies would even try...
They didn't get to say goodbye... they only had the time to die...
By the time she hit export, the track was done. Rough, raw, but done. She played it back once, quietly, headphones on. The bass thumped through her skull, the words hitting harder than she'd expected.
The track felt... inevitable. Raw edges, no polish, but it fit. Two individuals clawing their way up the chaos and endless grind that is Night City together. The song wasn't about romance or heartbreak like the old covers she'd heard. Unspoken loyalty. Shared vengeance. The kind of bond that didn't need words because it was written in chrome and scars.
Motoko pulled her headphones off, exhaling slowly. The waveform stared back at her, peaks like gunshots.
The front door hissed open.
Jun stepped in, shaking rain off his jacket, Oni mask clipped to his belt like always. He sniffed the air—probably smelling the instant ramen she'd half-eaten earlier—then spotted her at the table.
"Still fiddling with that daemon?" he asked, dropping his keys with a clatter. "You look like you just flatlined something."
Motoko minimized the audio window too fast. "Just... experimenting."
His eyes narrowed playfully. Big brother radar pinging. "That's not code. That's audio." He beamed. "New song?"
"It's nothing. Rough draft. Trash."
Jun crossed the room in three strides, leaning over her shoulder. "Play it."
"No."
"Come on, Motoko. You've been humming weird shit for days. Let me hear what the my little troublemaker has been cooking."
She crossed her arms. "It's embarrassing. Drop it."
He didn't. Just stood there, patient, arms folded, that immovable Big Brother energy filling the room.
After a long, stubborn silence—and Jun refusing to blink—she groaned and hit play.
The song filled the apartment. Heavy bass thumped through the cheap speakers. The lyrics rolled out, fierce and unapologetic. Motoko kept her eyes on the table, cheeks heating under the neon glow.
Jun listened without moving. When the final "Bang bang... You're all about to die..." faded into reverb, silence settled.
He straightened slowly.
"That's... Good." he said quietly. "Really good."
Motoko shrugged, still not looking up. "It's just beats and words."
"No." He reached over, gently turning her chair so she had to face him. "That's us. Two legends. One legacy. The quick one and the tall one. Fighting back-to-back. The city tries to take us down, we just keep coming."
Her brain did the digital equivalent of a hard crash. Rebooting... Emotional subprocess stalled.
She stared at him, mouth open, words gone.
Jun's expression softened, the hard lines of his face easing into something rare—open fondness. "You didn't even realize, did you? You wrote our song. Onryo and Oni. Against everyone."
Motoko's throat clicked. "No it's not! But... I... it just came out like that. I wasn't thinking—"
He ruffled her hair, careful not to snag on the ports behind her ear. "Yeah. But it fits. Perfectly."
She ducked her head, hiding the stupid, warm flush creeping up her neck. Her voice came out small. "Shut up, Jun-Nii."
He laughed—low, real. "Make me another one sometime. This one's ours."
The apartment felt warmer, smaller in the best way. Just them.
Two souls. One legacy.
Gonna need more of them Motoko songs m8. Love seeing reactions. @Seras
And for anyone curious; its this:
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JsxAjuntB-M
Motoko makes a theme song for the two of them (unknowingly)
AN: Reposting from SpaceBattles. For posterity ofc. Kinda ass for only 1 site to know about this kind of snippet/omake.
The dim glow of Motoko's laptop screen was the only real light on in their new flat… Or it was technically growing old as time passes now. The faint hum of the city filtered through the metal slats over the window—distant sirens, the low rumble of AVs overhead, the occasional bark of a street vendor—but inside, it was quiet. Just her, the soft clicks of keys, and the rhythmic tap of her fingers against the worn keys as she tweaked yet another piece of daemon code.
She leaned back in the creaky chair, stretching her arms overhead, feeling the familiar pull of muscles that were finally starting to feel like her own again after all the grinding.
'Breach Protocol subroutines... still clunky. Need to optimize the handshake sequence.'
Her eyes drifted over the lines of code, half-lost in the flow, when something sparked.
Not a bug fix. Not an efficiency gain.
A melody.
It hit her like a rogue quickhack—sharp, unbidden, insistent. A driving beat, heavy synths layered under a haunting vocal line, something fierce and mournful all at once. Words started forming in her head, fragmented at first, then locking together like perfectly slotted chrome.
Bang bang... they shot them down...
She blinked, fingers freezing over the keys. Where the hell had that come from? She hadn't been listening to anything like it lately. No radio, no shards. Just... inspiration. Pure, stupid inspiration.
That was what she first thought, but there was a narrowly annoying piece of mind that was in the back of her head that she was certain she had heard that somewhere… In her first life…
But no dice.
Motoko exhaled slowly, saving her code with a quick keystroke before opening a fresh audio editor shard. Her Rockerboy skill might still be low-level, but she'd messed around enough with beats and vocal synths to know her way around a track. Thumbs flew across the touchpad as she laid down the backbone—a pounding electronic rhythm, distorted guitars that sounded like chainsaws in the rain, and a vocal filter that made her voice echo like it was coming from the other side of a grave.
The lyrics poured out.
Bang bang, two legends, one legacy...
Surrounded by enemies...
Go ahead and cry... you're all about to die...
She layered in more. Battle cries turned into choruses. A sense of unbreakable bond against impossible odds. Blood, grime, laughter in the face of death. It felt... personal. Like it had been waiting inside her all along.
Combined as one, you'd wonder why their enemies would even try...
They didn't get to say goodbye... they only had the time to die...
By the time she hit export, the track was done. Rough, raw, but done. She played it back once, quietly, headphones on. The bass thumped through her skull, the words hitting harder than she'd expected.
The track felt... inevitable. Raw edges, no polish, but it fit. Two individuals clawing their way up the chaos and endless grind that is Night City together. The song wasn't about romance or heartbreak like the old covers she'd heard. Unspoken loyalty. Shared vengeance. The kind of bond that didn't need words because it was written in chrome and scars.
Motoko pulled her headphones off, exhaling slowly. The waveform stared back at her, peaks like gunshots.
The front door hissed open.
Jun stepped in, shaking rain off his jacket, Oni mask clipped to his belt like always. He sniffed the air—probably smelling the instant ramen she'd half-eaten earlier—then spotted her at the table.
"Still fiddling with that daemon?" he asked, dropping his keys with a clatter. "You look like you just flatlined something."
Motoko minimized the audio window too fast. "Just... experimenting."
His eyes narrowed playfully. Big brother radar pinging. "That's not code. That's audio." He beamed. "New song?"
"It's nothing. Rough draft. Trash."
Jun crossed the room in three strides, leaning over her shoulder. "Play it."
"No."
"Come on, Motoko. You've been humming weird shit for days. Let me hear what the my little troublemaker has been cooking."
She crossed her arms. "It's embarrassing. Drop it."
He didn't. Just stood there, patient, arms folded, that immovable Big Brother energy filling the room.
After a long, stubborn silence—and Jun refusing to blink—she groaned and hit play.
The song filled the apartment. Heavy bass thumped through the cheap speakers. The lyrics rolled out, fierce and unapologetic. Motoko kept her eyes on the table, cheeks heating under the neon glow.
Jun listened without moving. When the final "Bang bang... You're all about to die..." faded into reverb, silence settled.
He straightened slowly.
"That's... Good." he said quietly. "Really good."
Motoko shrugged, still not looking up. "It's just beats and words."
"No." He reached over, gently turning her chair so she had to face him. "That's us. Two legends. One legacy. The quick one and the tall one. Fighting back-to-back. The city tries to take us down, we just keep coming."
Her brain did the digital equivalent of a hard crash. Rebooting... Emotional subprocess stalled.
She stared at him, mouth open, words gone.
Jun's expression softened, the hard lines of his face easing into something rare—open fondness. "You didn't even realize, did you? You wrote our song. Onryo and Oni. Against everyone."
Motoko's throat clicked. "No it's not! But... I... it just came out like that. I wasn't thinking—"
He ruffled her hair, careful not to snag on the ports behind her ear. "Yeah. But it fits. Perfectly."
She ducked her head, hiding the stupid, warm flush creeping up her neck. Her voice came out small. "Shut up, Jun-Nii."
He laughed—low, real. "Make me another one sometime. This one's ours."
The apartment felt warmer, smaller in the best way. Just them.
Two souls. One legacy.
Gonna need more of them Motoko songs m8. Love seeing reactions. @Seras
And for anyone curious; its this:
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JsxAjuntB-M