Bio Weapon Dystopia

The song had gone through some serious tweaks to make it work acoustically, since originally it had a lot of electronic elements. But thanks to the killer lyrics, the vocals, and a bunch of stuff the band—mostly Thiago—figured out, they nailed it. Four original songs now, each with input from the members, even though Devil Trigger technically already existed. Heitor and Thiago took credit for co-writing since they helped smooth out the edges, and Heitor's drumming took the whole thing to another level.

At least now, everyone had a song they could claim as their own. Sort of.

After some more practice, with Blaze taking over as lead guitar for a bit, the group kicked back, drinking and zoning out to the awful N54 News Channel. The usual Night City and LA stuff, plus a bunch of updates on other states in the N.U.S.A. Nothing they really cared about. But as the hours passed, Raven started to notice something was off with Vomi. She was sweating here and there, rubbing her forehead, clearly fighting off what looked like a migraine or something.

Vomi’s agent buzzed, and she finally saw the message she’d been waiting for:

Sasha: Caught some fish! Come and see me >w<

“Did she seriously just text me an emoji?”

“Who?” Nieme asked, barely glancing away from the TV.

“An acquaintance. And yeah... it’s full of text emojis,” Vomi said, trying to wrap her head around why anyone would do that.

“Are they a Netrunner?” Blaze asked, taking a swig of his beer.

“Yeah, why?”

He shrugged, wiping his mouth with a chrome hand. “Some of ‘em are just... peculiar.”

Vomi almost snorted. Peculiar was an understatement, considering Vomi herself wasn’t just a Netrunner but something more... symbiotic.

“Is it important?” Thiago asked from his spot, where he was still tweaking tracks but not with his usual intensity. “We could run through some more songs. Our setlist isn’t exactly long.”

“I’ve been waiting on this for a while,” Vomi said, a little apologetic. “I can’t skip it. But we’ll meet up soon, if it doesn’t take too long.”

Raven stood, stretching. “I’ll head out too. Got some things to take care of.”

“Fucking Black Daggers,” Heitor muttered, but everyone heard him.

The mood shifted. Nobody had forgotten the attack, especially with Raven still recovering from her injuries. The tech the Daggers tried to steal, the reckless violence, the shards they were after—it all felt too organized, like some corp was pulling the strings. But none of them were about to dive headfirst into that mess. They weren’t suicidal.

“You need a ride?” Vomi asked Raven, who was lounging on the couch next to her.

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

Thiago yawned. “Alright, I’m done for the day. I’ll finish the edits later. Got other biz to handle.”

With that, everyone scattered. Vomi headed out to her Colby, Vanguard jumping onto Raven's shoulder, as usual. The singer didn’t even flinch, used to the cat’s antics by now.

Once they were on the road, Vomi glanced over. “Where do you live?”

Raven scratched Vanguard’s head as he curled up in her lap, more like a puddle of fur than a cat. “Near the museum, just past downtown.”

Vomi nodded, the city’s cloudy sky casting a gray light over the streets. “Are you alright? Your injuries healing up okay?”

“I’m fine,” Raven said, not missing a beat. “Didn’t even need a ripperdoc. Still... doesn’t make me any less pissed.” She glanced down, absentmindedly rubbing the bandages on her arm.

Vomi shot her a quick look. “Why’d you risk so much for those people? The refugees?”

“They helped me when I needed it,” Raven answered simply, her gaze finally meeting Vomi’s. “So I returned the favor.”

Vomi hesitated, then asked the question she’d been holding back. “Why didn’t you call the Green Rhythm? Did you leave on bad terms?”

Raven tensed, her face hardening. But Vomi waited, driving slow on purpose, giving her space to open up if she wanted. They hadn’t known each other long—two, maybe three weeks—but Vomi couldn’t help but worry. Raven was tough, but there was something fragile under all that strength. Maybe it was the stubbornness both she and her sister Cinthia shared, or the fact that Raven never mentioned why she left her old band.

Cinthia was different—loud, vibrant, brutally honest. But even she had faith that Raven would come back to Green Rhythm one day. It was clear she cared, but Raven? She wasn’t one to just let things slide.

The silence in the car grew, heavy, but Vomi wasn’t about to let the question go unanswered. Finally, Raven exhaled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Raven stared out the window for a long moment, watching the city lights blur past. “It wasn’t just one thing,” she finally said, her voice quiet but firm. “Green Rhythm, they... changed. Or maybe I did. Either way, the vibe wasn’t right anymore. Everything felt forced, fake.”

Vomi kept her eyes on the road, but she could hear the tension in Raven’s voice. She had a feeling there was more to the story, something deeper that Raven wasn’t saying. “Did something happen? Or was it just... time to go?”

Raven shifted in her seat, crossing her arms. “They started getting corporate sponsorships. Big ones. The kind that come with strings. At first, it was small things, like what we could say during interviews or how we dressed. But then it got worse. They wanted us to play at gigs where they’d control everything, the sound, the setlist, even the crowd. It wasn’t about the music anymore. It was about selling an image.”

Vomi nodded, understanding more than she expected to. She had seen how corps operated, always trying to mold people into something they could market, something profitable. “So you delta?”

“Yeah,” Raven said, her voice flat. “I told them I wouldn’t sell out, and they told me I was being difficult. That I was ruining their chances. So I walked.”

“Cinthia didn’t go with you?” Vomi asked, glancing at her.

Raven shook her head, her jaw tight. “No. She wanted to, but I told her to stay. She’s too bright for this world, you know? Too good. Green Rhythm’s still got something to offer her. I wasn’t going to take that away just because I couldn’t deal with the bullshit.”

Vomi felt a pang of respect for Raven, but also sadness. It was clear that leaving hadn’t been easy, especially leaving her sister behind. “You think she’ll ever leave?”

Raven’s eyes softened slightly. “Maybe. One day. But I don’t want her to have to. Not like I did.”

They drove in silence for a bit after that, the tension easing but still present. Vomi could feel the weight of what Raven was saying. It wasn’t just about music or gigs; it was about identity, about not letting the world shape you into something you didn’t want to be. Something Vomi could relate to more than she cared to admit.

They reached Raven’s place, the museum just a block away. Vomi slowed the car to a stop. “Here we are.”

Raven paused before opening the door. "Thanks for the ride... and for listening."

Vomi grinned. "Anytime. We all got our own battles, right?"

With a small nod, Raven got out of the car, Vanguard hopping down onto the pavement. Vomi watched her walk toward the building, shoulders hunched, before she disappeared inside.

As Vomi pulled away, her agent pinged again:

Sasha: Seriously! Get over here! This is huge!

Vomi sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Alright, alright, I'm coming," she muttered, changing direction towards Sasha's place. Whatever Sasha had found, Vomi knew it was gonna be a wild ride.

With corpos involved? It always was.

Vomi had always imagined a Netrunner’s hideout to be straight out of the movies—walls of blinking monitors, tangled wires everywhere, dark as a cave with only screens lighting the place, energy drink cans scattered like confetti, and a general air of "I haven't left this chair in days." But when she got to Sasha's apartment—yes, apartment—she was completely caught off guard. It was clean, bright, spacious, and absolutely overflowing with cat plushies and anime merch. Sure, there was the cooling suit for netrunning, but other than that, it looked more like a weeb’s dream than a hacker’s den.

As soon as Vomi stepped in, she heard splashing from the bathroom. Sasha must’ve been using the Icebath to dive into Cyberspace. The whole vibe was... weird, but oddly comforting.

A few minutes later, Sasha emerged from the bathroom with a towel twisted around her wet hair and literally nothing else on. She casually dried herself off while Vomi, doing her best not to stare, immediately turned her back to avoid making things even weirder. Vomi was well aware that in this world, being a woman in these kinds of situations was different—people didn’t really care about nudity, especially Netrunners after a session in the Icebath. But still, the sudden casualness threw her off.

Of course, Sasha noticed Vomi’s awkwardness and couldn’t help but stir the pot.

“Oh hey, Corpo Kitty!” Sasha chirped, suddenly wrapping Vomi in a hug from behind. The move earned a startled yelp from Vomi.

"W-What are you doing?!" Vomi stammered, her face heating up as she tried to wiggle free.

Sasha laughed, her voice low and playful. "What, you don't like my body? I've been working really hard to keep it this sexy..."

Why did Sasha have to say that in such a sultry tone? No idea. But Vomi’s brain short-circuited from the unexpected physical contact and the whole situation.

Vomi was frozen, her brain going a mile a minute but somehow completely failing to come up with a response. Sasha’s arms were still loosely wrapped around her, and her teasing grin was practically radiating into the back of Vomi’s head.

“Sasha... can you please... let go?” Vomi finally managed to get out, her voice tight.

Sasha giggled but released her. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. You’re way too easy to fluster.”

Vomi turned around, face still slightly red, trying to compose herself. “Yeah, well, not all of us are used to being naked around coworkers.”

Sasha just shrugged, still amused as she sauntered over to her couch and flopped down. “In my line of work, modesty is overrated. Now sit down, I’ve got something to show you that’ll blow your mind.”

Vomi, still feeling awkward, cautiously sat down on the edge of the couch. She wasn’t entirely sure what to expect—“big finds” usually came with a hefty dose of chaos.

Sasha grabbed her data pad and tossed it into Vomi’s lap. “Here. Take a look at this.”

Vomi glanced down at the pad, scanning the screen. It was filled with complex code, diagrams, and what looked like... access points? She frowned, her scientific mind trying to piece together what she was seeing.

“This is... a breach?” Vomi’s tone shifted, growing more focused as she took in the data.

Sasha grinned wider. “Not just any breach. KanedaCorp’s. They’re moving some serious gear, including that new Cyberdeck—Ouroboros. Remember what we dug up with Takeo? They’re shipping it, and I’ve got the route they’re using before it lands in a vault later this week.”

Vomi’s eyes narrowed, the gears turning in her head. “So you found an unsecured path into a corpo vault... and the route they’re taking?”

Sasha threw a towel over her shoulders, finally covering up, which made Vomi relax a little. “Yep. And Takeo’s already looped in, meaning M-Tech will probably be knocking any sec—"

A warning light blinked on.

“—now.” Sasha’s face tightened.

“Who is it?” Vomi asked, though she didn’t need to with Vanguard linking with her thoughts.

“It’s who you think,” Vanguard purred, leaping off Vomi’s shoulder and landing in Sasha’s lap.

“Graves. Your boss.” Sasha gave a smirk, pressing a button to open the door.

Graves walked in, all business as usual. His corporate vibe was something Vomi never quite got used to—slick, professional, and about as warm as a frozen slab of steel. He glanced at Sasha, barely acknowledging the towel, and then turned his attention to Vomi, giving a curt nod to both of them.

“Dr. Vomi, Sasha,” he said, his voice lacking any real warmth.

“Graves,” Sasha replied, her tone flat.

Vomi, still piecing things together, asked, “What’s going on?”

Graves offered his polished corporate smile. “Vomi, thank you for your assistance on this project. Due to your diligent work, alongside Sasha’s rather unconventional methods of breaching the Blackwall, M-Tech has come across valuable intel regarding Project Ouroboros. Our CEO is highly interested in this delivery.”

Sasha rolled her eyes but stayed quiet, petting Vanguard’s fur, which seemed to calm her nerves more than anything else.

"Forgive my ignorance," Vomi said, her voice suddenly much more corporate, "but are you suggesting that this delivery should be... 'redirected' to M-Tech?"

Graves gave a nod, the kind that could mean anything—acknowledgment, flattery, or just following his well-rehearsed corporate script. "A sharp observation, Dr. Vomi. Securing this piece of cyberware for M-Tech is of great interest to our president. I assume this won’t present any difficulties?"

Vomi took a moment to consider. Typical corpo behavior—stealing from other corps was practically an art form in places like Night City, but it seemed the same rules applied here in San Francisco.

"No difficulties, as long as I’m given time to review the intel properly," she responded, keeping her tone professional and composed.

Sasha groaned from her seat, eyes closed as if already imagining the headache. "Ugh, if the job is to grab the deck, we’re going to need a crew. KanedaCorp’s security will be tight—probably Militech-grade hardware and top-tier cyberware guarding it. We need more than just a plan."

Graves paused, then nodded. "Acceptable. Plan as you see fit, but when the time comes, the package must be in our possession."

Sasha smirked, not missing a beat. "So, you’re hiring me for this?"

Graves frowned but held back whatever he was thinking. "Correct. Gather your team. Once the job is done, we’ll discuss your payment."

"Looks like we’ve got a gig," Sasha said, standing and heading for her wardrobe to change on the spot.

Vomi turned away, feeling a familiar discomfort, once again wondering why modesty wasn’t part of Sasha’s post-job routine.

"I expect success, Dr. Vomi," Graves added before turning to leave, his tone less of a request and more of a warning.

Vomi didn’t miss the weight behind his words.

Vomi let out a long sigh after Graves left, finally relaxing her shoulders. “He’s always gotta make it sound like a threat, huh?” she muttered, rubbing her temple.

Sasha, now fully dressed—thankfully—snorted. “That’s corpos for you. They can’t ask for anything without dangling some sort of sword over your head.”

Vomi shook her head. "I don't even know why I’m surprised anymore. It’s always the same game with them."

Sasha, now sitting cross-legged on her couch, fiddling with a small piece of tech, glanced up. “So, you in? 'Cause this isn’t exactly gonna be a walk in the park.”

Vomi leaned against the wall, folding her arms. “Do I have a choice? Graves made it pretty clear that failure isn’t an option.”

“Yeah, but you could say no and let M-Tech deal with it,” Sasha said, raising an eyebrow. “Not that they wouldn’t just find someone else to take your place. But that wouldn’t look too great for you, would it?”

“Exactly,” Vomi replied, shaking her head. “Plus, I’m kinda curious about this cyberdeck. If it’s as powerful as they say, I want to know what we’re up against.”

Sasha smirked. “Of course you are. Not every day you deal with symbiotes coming out of your back. This deck probably has one of those too.”

Vanguard, ever the serious one, chimed in. “That’s a possibility we can’t ignore. The red symbiote is primal, I’m sentient, but what if this one’s something else entirely?”

Vomi blinked, realizing the implications. “That’s... terrifying.”

Sasha, mid-sip from her soda, paused, frowning. “And considering you don’t have full control over the other one yet…”

They all went quiet for a moment, the weight of the situation settling in.

Then Sasha clapped her hands, breaking the silence. “Anyway! Let’s talk crew. Got any suggestions?”

“Well,” Vomi started, “since we’ve already got two Netrunners—though I’m more offensive-minded…”

“I can be aggressive too!” Sasha interrupted, pouting.

Vomi ignored her, continuing. “...we’re gonna need someone for long-range, plus two infantry types for close combat.”

“And a driver,” Vanguard added, tail flicking. “Someone who can handle a fast getaway.”

“Right, it’s an escort gig, so everyone will be in vehicles. But we’ll need someone who can actually maneuver under pressure,” Vomi agreed.

They all hummed in thought. Finding the right crew wasn’t going to be easy.

The Refused, maybe?

No, Vomi only went with them for two gigs. There's not enough experience alongside them to judge them on this one. But Heitor has military background… maybe?

“I know a good driver. He's a bit… quirky, but good.”, Sasha said, already regretting suggesting it, “His name is Carmine. He drives for a local gang of Artificers. Y'know, gonks that tinker with literally everything they can get their hands on?”

“Heard of them, but never heard of Carmine.”, Vomi nodded, remembering the gang, “He's a merc or a gangster?”

“Solo.”, She corrected, “He works for whoever pays more.”

Vomi raised an eyebrow. "A solo driver? Alright, if he's good enough to handle an escort gig, I’m game. But quirky how?"

Sasha sighed. "Let's just say he’s... eccentric. Talks to his car like it’s alive, calls it 'Baby.' But trust me, the dude can drive like a demon when it counts."

Vomi shrugged. "As long as he gets us out of there in one piece, I can deal with quirks."

Vanguard flicked his tail, thoughtful. "What about the firepower? We need someone who can handle close combat, but not lose their head in a firefight."

“I was thinking about Heitor,” Vomi said, hesitating. “He’s ex-military, solid with weapons. But I haven’t worked with him in a situation like this, corpo specifically. It’s risky.”

Sasha tilted her head. “The drummer guy? If he’s got the experience, it’s worth considering. But who’s the second?”

Vomi leaned back, thinking. "We need someone adaptable, who can handle anything. What about Blaze? He’s solid under pressure, good with close and mid-range weapons. Plus, he’s got experience with gigs that involve corporate heat.”

Sasha perked up at that. "Blaze, huh? Yeah, I’ve heard of him. He could work. So, we’ve got a driver, two infantry, and us two Netrunners. Should be enough to pull this off."

Vomi nodded. “I know Blaze and Heitor will be down for the gig. But what about Carmine?”

“Oh.”, Sasha said, suddenly remembering something, “Yeah. That.”

Vanguard blinked. Vomi blinked.

“Sasha?”

“Well… He is in jail.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

Vomi nearly dropped her glasses, her jaw hanging open. “He’s what?”

Sasha cringed, scratching the back of her neck. “Yeah, it’s a... minor detail. He got busted for illegal street racing last week. It’s a temporary hold. I think he’s out by tomorrow?”

Vomi rubbed her temples, sighing. “We need him for a high-risk gig, and you’re telling me he’s in jail?”

Sasha shrugged with a sheepish grin. “Like I said, he’s quirky. But if we can get him out, he’s our guy. Trust me.”

Vanguard snorted, amused. “We’re off to a great start.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Vomi shook her head. “Alright, I’ll reach out to Blaze and Heitor. You work on getting Carmine out. We need him, and we can’t afford any delays.”

Sasha gave her a thumbs-up. “I got it. Jail’s just a temporary obstacle. You focus on getting the muscle. I’ll deal with our speed demon.”

Vomi sighed again, already feeling the weight of the gig bearing down on her. “Let’s hope this plan comes together. We can’t afford for anything else to go sideways.”

Blaze and Heitor were working on their latest project, trying to figure out how to get their business off the ground. Blaze used to just be the guy who installed electronics for anyone who’d pay—mostly corpos, unfortunately. He knew his stuff, though, and put that knowledge to good use every day. Heitor had a military background, keeping tabs on equipment and making sure everything was up to snuff. So, the two of them together made for a pretty solid, if low-key, operation. They actually met when Heitor was looking to leave his war-torn past behind, and Blaze just wanted some peace and quiet.

But even with that peace, things got a little too dull. If it hadn’t been for Raven showing up, looking to fix Nieme’s bass and inviting them to join the band, they’d probably still be just another pair of unknown techies in some random shop by Sign Hills. Sure, they were still pretty under the radar, but at least now they had a shot at making a name for themselves. Blaze on guitar and Heitor on drums? Perfect combo.

Right now, they were deep in the trenches at their workshop, surrounded by tools and bits of electronics scattered everywhere. Blaze, with his wild hair and mismatched outfit, was hunched over a circuit board, soldering wires like a madman. Heitor was busy inspecting a set of modified weapons they’d snagged for a client.

“Hey, Heitor, toss me that flux capacitor, would ya?” Blaze called out without looking up. “I need to stop this circuit from frying itself.”

Heitor raised an eyebrow, not impressed. “You mean the flux capacitor you said was just a myth? You can’t keep making up parts just to sound nova.”

Blaze laughed, shaking his head. “Come on, choom! I like to spice things up a bit. If we’re trying to impress whoever buys this gear, we gotta make it sound preem.”

Heitor rolled his eyes but handed over the part anyway. “You’re lucky I can’t argue with results. But if you keep calling it that, I’m charging you for every cliché.”

“Deal!” Blaze grinned. “I’ll take you out for that new burger joint after this.”

“Only if they’ve got real meat. I’m sick of these synth substitutes,” Heitor said, moving on to their next task. “We still need to fix the plumbing at Megabuilding 7.”

“That’s because they still haven’t sent over the blueprints,” Blaze replied, finishing up the circuit board. “And don’t even start; I know it’s a corpo building. We can’t do anything without the details.”

“You say that, but you made us take the job anyway,” Heitor said, clearly annoyed.

“Thought it’d be a good idea!” Blaze said, pacing around. “Who knew corpos would be so touchy about their blueprints? It’s not like they’re hiding anything, right?”

“They’re corpos. Do you really think they wouldn’t have some secrets they want to keep under wraps? Did that thought ever cross your mind?” Heitor shot him a “what the hell” look while Blaze stubbornly shook it off.

“I swear, if you bring this up again, I’m gonna end up in jail.”

Just then, the door chimed, and they both paused to see what the new client needed. Blaze slapped on a bright smile and stepped up to the counter, only to do a double take.

“Vomi?”

“Blaze?”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Um, I work here!”

“Seriously?”

“Yes! We work here!” Heitor yelled from the back.

“Heitor?!”

“Enough!” Blaze snapped, rubbing his temples as his chrome arms fell at his sides, looking exhausted even if they were mechanical.

“Sorry, it’s just I didn’t know you two worked… here.”, Vomi gestured to the place.

“Wow, subtle.”, Heitor said, finally showing up, fitting the circuit board back on the dashboard it was before, “I know this place is junk, but you didn't need to say it like that.”

“That wasn't my intention.”, Vomi frowned. Sometimes people can't take something lightly, “What's the dashboard for?”

Blaze glanced at Heitor, giving a slight smirk as he leaned on the counter. "Yeah, subtlety ain’t really your thing, huh?" He shook his head, then gestured towards the dashboard with a bit of pride. "That? Oh, nothing too fancy, just a custom setup for a client’s ride. They wanted a dash that'll monitor their... let's say unofficial equipment, without raising any red flags."

Vomi raised an eyebrow. "Unofficial, huh? Sounds like you’re doing more than just your average installs these days."

Heitor gave a half-shrug, looking almost bored as he adjusted the circuit. "Pays the bills. Plus, sometimes corpo jobs are too clean. A little dirty work here and there keeps things interesting."

Blaze grinned. "Exactly! I mean, who wants to stick to corpo wiring gigs forever? You get what I'm saying, right? Speaking of which, why are you here? Got something that needs fixing? Or are you just checking in on your favorite tech heads?"

Vomi crossed her arms, smirking back. "Actually, yeah, I do need something. I have a gig to show you two.”

“A gig?”

“It's a long story, so sit tight.”

Vomi explained the whole situation with Sasha, the Cyberdeck that KanedaCorp is transporting, Carmine and the fact that he is in prison and they will probably need to free him from it… No detail was spared, not even M-Tech's intentions with this, as much as Vomi thought it was better to hide some of it.

Well, she did hide the fact that symbiotes are involved. Hard to explain this kind of stuff.

Blaze leaned back in his chair, eyes wide as he listened to Vomi lay out the whole plan. Heitor, on the other hand, was rubbing his chin, already thinking about the logistics of pulling something like this off.

"Wait, wait, wait," Blaze interrupted, holding up a hand. "You’re telling me we need to jack a Cyberdeck from KanedaCorp and bust a guy out of prison? This isn’t just your regular run-of-the-mill gig, Vomi. This is heavy stuff."

Vomi nodded, her arms still crossed, eyes sharp. "I know. But you were and still are the only people I know that are… disposed enough to go through this.”

“You mean psycho enough.”, Heitor chuckled.

“She ain't wrong.”, Blaze nodded, "But why not just call Thiago? He's been our driver. You saw it since you were in the van too.”

Vomi sighed, “Yeah I know, but that went smooth because the targets were easy to hack and I was updating everyone. Sasha is an even better Netrunner than I am and she suggested we pick up Carmine.”

“That has to count for something.”, Heitor nodded, “I mean, if two people are suggesting a guy obsessed with his ride to do the job, who am I to complain?”

“Heitor, you are not really helping me.”, Blaze deadpanned.

“You don't help yourself.”

“Well, the pay will be good. Big eddies in play, directly from M-Tech. I just need to know if you two are in.”, Vomi asked gingerly, since there weren't many details of what they were putting themselves into.

“The Refused gig is next weekend anyways. Thiago is focusing on the album, Nieme is probably… somewhere. Where the hell that guy even goes after we rehearse?”, Blaze asked suddenly, getting off tack.

“No clue.”, Heitor shrugged.

“Anyway, that means I will go to jail regardless. If not for boredom, be at least to delta someone out of it. I'm in.”

“Count me in too.”

“Alright then.”, Vomi smiled, grateful that her chooms agreed to the gig, “I will review the details. When we need to meet for the gig I will give a briefing to everyone.”

“Alright.”

“Sure.”

With that, Vomi left, leaving the boys alone again. Heitor was quick to send a look to Blaze, “You are going to jail.”

“And?”

“We didn't finish Megabuilding 7.”

“Oh you MOTHERFUCKER!”

As Vomi entered her Colby, she could hear the faint, but discernible noises of stuff breaking. But she decided to ignore it.