"So! You want to be a Punk, kido?"

The man, clad in orange, in a weird "Orange is the new byte" way, looked, bored, at the young man standing straight.

The young man took few seconds to assess his surroundings. For once, it wasn't all white and empty.

"I don't want to be, Sir, I don't need your acknowledgement here. I know I am a Punk. A Warrior Punk!"

Un-phased by the placid, uninterested gaze of the older man, he was wondering why he had accepted this interview. He didn't really need a new gig for his career was already well established.

Some of his apparitions in recent well received books had propelled him on his way to stardom. Under the pen of some talented authors, he received ovations for his various interpretations of lonely and proud warriors.

Being a warrior was not just about being a soldier. A soldier, he had been. Though the roles were just of a task to accomplished, a job to do. No personal involvement there. A mission, without implication.

He had had way more fun playing the role of the warrior. Martial spirit, personal rules, own philosophy, concern for the cause, all these gave more depth to the characters he impersonated.

With skilled writers, nothing was impossible for the young man to accomplish, no high he couldn't reach, no feat he couldn't accomplish. He could be anything, although he had a preference for the Warrior figure.

"What makes you think you are a Warrior Punk? You don't look punk-ish to me..."

The man in orange, his hair weirdly shaped in double dihedral figure, started to play his fingers along the keyboard conveniently placed under his hands. 

The young man pondered his answer as he couldn't stop glancing at the W-ish hairdo. He knew that his days as a Science Fiction character were not in danger, the authors would continue to use him to fight against cruel alien races and deranged dictators from the past. So, what was the purpose of this interview?

"I don't really care for the establishment, though I don't deny its existence... I'd say this makes me slightly punky."

Hearing these words, the man stopped looking at the screen in front of him with a frown.

"I see you have an impressive track records, under the pen of different talented authors. Effectively... you have made them proud and drove a lot of readers to their stories."

The young man didn't like the way this whole shebang was going. It was as if his interlocutor was turning around the pot, lacing his words with underlying intentions, grey areas, while he preferred when things where said loud and clear.

"What are you expecting from me exactly?"

"You know that here, at the BOW, the Big Orange Watt's'that, we like to innovate with new worlds, cross genres and even, possibly, plot twists. We are looking for the new image for our new Warrior Punk brand."

Obviously, the orange man wasn't used to explain himself, acting all high and mighty, mixing a bit of confusion with a lot of hidden anger.

The young man didn't really care, though, thinking back to his answer, not really impressed by the display of the MegaCorp-like imposed self-importance. He was a punk, afterword; a clear production of the anti-establishment culture, with a lot of individual freedom awareness.

One of the last role he had – incidentally one of the most memorable one, seeing as it was part of a visual novel, multimedia type of support – had proved he was made for the lonely character of the punk. Even if not much of the almost fifty thousand readers didn't see him this way, incarnating a D.E.I.T.Y. in Injection had made him reflect on the punk culture, and the warrior trope.

Funny as the Orange SciFi program was looking for a representation to their new idea of a subgenre, for a Warrior Punk.

What he liked with those recent, and less recent roles, while impersonating warrior figures, was the philosophical aspect of the fight, the martial respect, though he never really fell under the excessive competitiveness and thirst for glory that usually went with the trope. More than a soldier, less self-conscious than a warrior, a punk with honour.

The young man had a sudden idea.

"Have you thought about contacting Kahless?"

The orange man looked at him, his brows furrowing deeper toward the center of his face. "Fanfiction wasn't really the primary idea here... What would Kahless bring us in this matter?"

The idea had seemed interesting for the young one, at first, though the question was valid. Would Kahless, all great ruler that he was, bring the image of the Warrior Punk to its fullest? The warrior was undeniably there, any Klingon would capture the image marvelously. The punk, however, wasn't too much in it.

Thinking about the premises for this new subgenre branding, the young man thought back about some memorable characters he impersonated and the settings the authors set him in. There had been a certain balance between the warrior trope and the punk culture.

He could think of many other aspects that had made these stories he had found himself in as WarriorPunk as possible. A focus on technology, undeniably, perhaps even an advanced technology for the timeline of the story. The element of rebellion, this had been a mandatory premise in most of those books, though this rebellion had wear a subtle form of anti-establishment against the ideas more than against the rules and conventions. Rebellion had gone hand in hand with the marginalization of his character, however this could have been a perceived marginalization; after all, all leaders were lonely men, and what better image than the lonely Warrior leader, working for the greater good. 

Thinking more about those basis, the young man could but concede that he effectively had encompassed the image of Warrior Punk in one of the famous military-slash-zombie revenge science fiction story on Watt's'that. His role of Max, in the Risen series, had been acclaimed by more than two and a half million readers. Surely, his author had made a great job in these books and he, as the main character, had brought to live the artful words.

Max was the figure of the Warrior, for sure. However, no research of honour and glory for him, just a survival goal. Almost a reluctant leader, though still a loner, somehow, a rebel fighting for his freedom, and, incidentally, other's. He had the support of great technology, a tight group of friends and grand ideas to defend. When you fight for the survival of not only yourself but the one of your mother planet, the ideal is gigantic and worth fighting for.

He was about to give a constructed answer to the man in orange and with the weird hairdo when the décor started to fade around him. The young man felt the tickles of a writing mind, the tremors of keys being hit repeatedly. One more time, he found himself in this strange situation, when all around him was but a white page, a blank space on a screen. He looked left and right, above him, and saw fine black lines springing from the void, flowing around him in a musical pattern.

He had been called in a new story...

*-*-*

A/N

This is my answer to ScienceFiction challenge "WarriorPunk" where in 2000 words max we need to define the subgenre (which doesn't exist).

This is my take on this new punk. there are any things that can be covered with the terms warrior and punk, though I can imagine an integration of the warrior trope with in the punk subculture, with some adjustments.

I would say that many stories, here on Wattpad. I mentioned two of these, though many more would be worth of the tag.

I hope Nanomyte and bloodsword won't be too much bothered by me to have taken the liberty of using their characters and stories here as example. I shall have add others, such as Gunnut "Winter Storm" and SeanMorganthau "Starcross" series that also give this WarriorPunk vibe... and many more...