"Aerosolized drugs, probably," Lucy hums. She's not going anywhere near those, thank you very much. Those people like they're on the good shit, and she's never been one for the harder varieties of high.
(Later, however, she will proceed to spend most of the night at the clubs on Verve, marveling at how connected it makes her feel.)
Even at this distance from them, she thinks she's catching the edge of the inhibition reduction, because her paranoid thoughts are easing slightly, and Lucy would prefer to keep those right now, thank you very much. On the other side of the lobby, she can see holograms answering questions, and drones hovering around that seem to be cleaning. Beneath a massive ad for a new ramen joint is a table full of food, and Lucy's eyes widen slightly. Because holy shit, that looks like real food. Actual fruit, and meat, and not just the nutri-bars and dehydrated noodles she had to resort to for most of her meals.
"They're really pulling out all the stops, huh," she says to Faye, dubious. Lucy can't help herself. She approaches the table, and plucks a single strawberry from a pile. It's red and shiny, the platonic ideal of a strawberry. "I wonder if this is drugged, too," she says wryly.
no subject
(Later, however, she will proceed to spend most of the night at the clubs on Verve, marveling at how connected it makes her feel.)
Even at this distance from them, she thinks she's catching the edge of the inhibition reduction, because her paranoid thoughts are easing slightly, and Lucy would prefer to keep those right now, thank you very much. On the other side of the lobby, she can see holograms answering questions, and drones hovering around that seem to be cleaning. Beneath a massive ad for a new ramen joint is a table full of food, and Lucy's eyes widen slightly. Because holy shit, that looks like real food. Actual fruit, and meat, and not just the nutri-bars and dehydrated noodles she had to resort to for most of her meals.
"They're really pulling out all the stops, huh," she says to Faye, dubious. Lucy can't help herself. She approaches the table, and plucks a single strawberry from a pile. It's red and shiny, the platonic ideal of a strawberry. "I wonder if this is drugged, too," she says wryly.