Ever since V was 10 - and even before, really - it had been V's singular job to watch people and read them, and he'd gotten good at it. It was a skill that was required in Night City, where everyone grinned while holding a knife behind their back. He noticed the shift in her demeanor, though he wasn't sure the particular cause. It could have been the mantis blades, or perhaps she noticed something else that made her uncomfortable.
His hands found the pockets of his jacket and he did his best to adjust his body language so he did not seem very threatening. He thought his body language was already in check, but he grew conscious of it and tried to be as casual as he could given the circumstance.
"Ah, yeah. Tix're real expensive." It was something he could afford in the end, sure, but his mind was on more pressing matters. He had really wanted to go back home and surprise Kerry with a clean enough bill of health they could both forget the nightmare he'd been through. V had even thought he might retire from merc work. So much for that.
He was quiet for a moment after she admitted she wouldn't miss the ads or the city, something contemplative in his expression as he thought about it. He fully agreed that Night City was a prison, but he felt that it was more than that.
"Night City's an abusive relationship. Finally get free'f it's grasp and you get away just long enough you start to forget all the pain it caused'n just crave the glory. Really start to only remember the fond things'n miss it." A pause. "That, and the NUSA sure don't praise like Night City does," he added softly.
It was clear from the way he spoke that he had personal experience with what he was saying, but there was something more to it. It was subtle, but V was addicted to Night City. He hadn't been able to leave it even when he tried: he crawled back the moment he realized Atlanta wouldn't provide dopamine the same way Night City did.
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His hands found the pockets of his jacket and he did his best to adjust his body language so he did not seem very threatening. He thought his body language was already in check, but he grew conscious of it and tried to be as casual as he could given the circumstance.
"Ah, yeah. Tix're real expensive." It was something he could afford in the end, sure, but his mind was on more pressing matters. He had really wanted to go back home and surprise Kerry with a clean enough bill of health they could both forget the nightmare he'd been through. V had even thought he might retire from merc work. So much for that.
He was quiet for a moment after she admitted she wouldn't miss the ads or the city, something contemplative in his expression as he thought about it. He fully agreed that Night City was a prison, but he felt that it was more than that.
"Night City's an abusive relationship. Finally get free'f it's grasp and you get away just long enough you start to forget all the pain it caused'n just crave the glory. Really start to only remember the fond things'n miss it." A pause. "That, and the NUSA sure don't praise like Night City does," he added softly.
It was clear from the way he spoke that he had personal experience with what he was saying, but there was something more to it. It was subtle, but V was addicted to Night City. He hadn't been able to leave it even when he tried: he crawled back the moment he realized Atlanta wouldn't provide dopamine the same way Night City did.