![]() ![]() His life’s entire life in one word was rebellious. He had lit a match to every bridge he made, watched it burn idly on the rear-view mirror with his foot never leaving the gas pedal, ignoring all the gonks who couldn’t figure out to get out of his way. Like a shitty tutorial pop-up on a video game that Johnny can’t turn off.) V thinks that out every single time he puts an item on the Nice Pile. (Nice Pile’s for potential upgrades on Dying Night, which then evolved to his other guns. V looted all of their stuff, carried it all to his little precious armory in his shitty unit, and DISMANTLED every single one of them.īit by bit, one by one, took each part out and holds it up to the light to see the damage, places it in piles where he’ll just junk it or sell it… or the elusive Nice Pile. It was after a wrong time wrong place situation with some Tyger Claws that V had to zero that Johnny noticed the fucking problem. Then V started getting into skirmishes, fights, life and death situations, normal Tuesday night in Night City, whatever you want to call it. Johnny wasn’t that bad at being a clean freak but he had a soft spot for his Malorian too– fuck he misses that baby. Only decent one he could afford too though for the first few nasty weeks post-heist, so every time he got home the first thing he did was clean the gun meticulously, make sure no blood got into its chambers, no rust could form on the handle. ‘Dying Night’, what a shitty name, probably jinxed the whole thing. ![]() ![]() Johnny could remember (which annoys him that he could) V requesting some tune-up for his Lexington and picking it up juuuuust right before the heist. V didn’t have a lot of guns– not at first, at least. Johnny noticed the trait early into their… predicament. ![]()
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