Returning to something resembling life was both a blessing and a curse to the legendary rockerboy, Johnny Silverhand.

To do so, it had almost killed his friend and then-host to his engram, V. In the end, it had worked out; but it had left V with plenty of damage to their body and psyche both. A part of him felt terrible about it - but it was hard not to be glad that he was alive. Realistically, how many people got to be what was, essentially, a cyber Lazarus?

Leaning back against the trashy red vinyl-lined sofa, Johnny brought his cigarette to his lips, taking a long drag. Heady smoke poured forth from his lips on the exhale, filling his olfactories with the scent.

(????)

, it was good to be able to feel that again. The sensation of his lungs expanding to draw in that sweet, sweet smoke – the way his veins sang, and endorphins flooded his system. And he never had to worry about ???? like cancer now, too. It was the boon of inhabiting a robotic body that felt all the normal sensations of a human and none of the physiological pitfalls. It made him feel fucking

(invincible)

, far more than he had piloting a meat suit.

Leaving the dart to hang between his teeth, Johnny glanced down at the beer in his hand, swirling the remaining frothy golden brew around in its amber bottle. Getting drunk without the hangovers he used to suffer through was nothing short of a fucking blessing, too.

The music that thumped around him wasn't much to his taste. Johnny knew he could do far better, and his lip curled a little at the garbled, bassy trash blaring over the speakers. The scenery was good, though - lots of fine-looking bodies packed into the establishment tonight.

And at the midnight hour, Johnny was on the hunt. He was going to make good use of his rebirth, and the body he'd been given. A smirk settled upon the rockerboy's lips as his eyes fell upon a particularly interesting-looking person, settled at the table just in front of him.

"Well, well. Ain't you a sight for sore eyes." Purred Johnny, his sunglasses riding low on the bridge of his nose as he peered over the rim.