[ At this point, Julie is probably one of the least overwhelmable people possible. Her own life is so goddamn much all the time that she doesn't have much emotional bandwidth left to waste on other people's nonsense; even right now, she can feel the Singularity's consciousness in her mind as it wakes up for the day. Which is, y'know. Just. A lot on its own. So she tends to just accept whatever people say at more or less face value, then suss out the reality as she goes along.
From somewhere deep in one of her pockets, she digs out an ornate cigarette case and flips it open to reveal herbal blends rolled in rose petals (available two per silver, or five for two), one of which she places between her lips. She makes a finger gun and points it upward toward the end of the joint, which lights with a brief pink flash at the tip of her finger. ]
I don't know that I've ever had much of a choice but to settle. There's no goin' back for me. [ A steady stream of smoke slips out of her mouth. She doesn't clarify what she means. ] 'sides, this world feels more like me than mine ever did.
[ Earth, America. They had been comfortable. Familiar. But she didn't fit in in Kansas, New Vegas was all a lie, and neither of them had magic. Didn't have her people. Didn't have the Singularity.
Julie rarely misses home. She misses people, traditions, technologies. But she never wants to go back, even if it were a choice (it isn't).
Smiling, she rests her cigarette in a crystal ashtray next to the cash register, then straightens up and looks at the house. She actually looks at it, too -- she isn't one to pull punches when she doesn't like something. Delicately holding the base, she turns it side to side to inspect it. ]
no subject
From somewhere deep in one of her pockets, she digs out an ornate cigarette case and flips it open to reveal herbal blends rolled in rose petals (available two per silver, or five for two), one of which she places between her lips. She makes a finger gun and points it upward toward the end of the joint, which lights with a brief pink flash at the tip of her finger. ]
I don't know that I've ever had much of a choice but to settle. There's no goin' back for me. [ A steady stream of smoke slips out of her mouth. She doesn't clarify what she means. ] 'sides, this world feels more like me than mine ever did.
[ Earth, America. They had been comfortable. Familiar. But she didn't fit in in Kansas, New Vegas was all a lie, and neither of them had magic. Didn't have her people. Didn't have the Singularity.
Julie rarely misses home. She misses people, traditions, technologies. But she never wants to go back, even if it were a choice (it isn't).
Smiling, she rests her cigarette in a crystal ashtray next to the cash register, then straightens up and looks at the house. She actually looks at it, too -- she isn't one to pull punches when she doesn't like something. Delicately holding the base, she turns it side to side to inspect it. ]
Love it.