Wired (Part Eight: Diffusion)
The sun was already making its way back down when she finally woke up. She didn't actually require sleep, but it made her feel a bit more human. Besides, it was preferable to staring at a wall for eight hours.
The air in her room was hot and sticky, and moisture clung to her skin. She adjusted herself and sighed, becoming immensely satisfied with the change. Not only did she have a ranged homeostasis, but she could also increase or decrease internal function to further control her body's temperature. She found this quite useful, especially in her line of work. There was nothing like putting on a good sweat to make the guys in the front shift positions uncomfortably.
Syn stood and walked to the window on the other side of the room. The sun streamed in towards her; her eyes narrowed instinctively as she peered through, scanning the scenery. She hated the city, but she had ironically found it harder to hide when alone... Although she was never quite sure if she was hiding from them or was perhaps hiding more from herself. People walked without purpose on the streets below while machines hustled past them in pre-programmed hurries.
She decided to go back to sleep. Besides, the day mainly consisted of work, and that was hours away. She might as well let her mind run wild with dreams. It seemed preferable to what it would run with if she decided instead to stay awake.
-----------------
Öröm felt the mild jolt of waking hit her like a wet sponge. She opened one eye, slightly, looking towards the window.
Gah. The sun. My eye.
She threw the blanket back over her head.
Fuck the sun.
But there was work to be done today. Or whenever. Today, tonight, everything was the same. Something fell. She sat up sharply, snapping her head to the right. Mickey sat in her chair in the corner, a smile stretched across his face in an only slightly sane manner. Öröm stared at him blankly, obtaining an overly grumpy, disheveled look.
Mickey laughed. "That's sexy."
Öröm reached up stiffly, rubbing her eye with her middle finger which caused her to lose grip on the blanket. It slid silently down to her side, revealing her upper half. She made no effort to correct it, but instead, looked up with a smile, and brightly responded with "Fuck you, you prick."
She slid off the side of the bed and made her way towards the opposite wall to a lump of blankets, then kicked it. The lump responded with noises of unapproval.
"Get up!", she yelled, kicking it a few more times.
"Aghhhhhhhh!"
She kicked it again, for good measure, and finally the lump distorted, and blankets parted, revealing the guy. He got up and brushed himself off.
Time to roll.
-------------------
No one seemed to pay attention to the fact that a small group of children roamed the streets alone. These children were parentless, mostly by choice, and were never obtainable. They moved through the city like they owned it. Some said they had every corridor mapped out. And even an intricate system of both transportation and communication. Everyone hoped this was not the future generation.
Except for Öröm. So when three strange looking individuals began to approach them, the children made no effort to move. They understood by their demeanor that they were here to negotiate.
Öröm stepped up to the group of children and smiled. The children made no effort to smile back. She looked towards her colleagues. Silence filled the small alley.
"What's up, guys?", she asked cheerfully. Again, she was met with silence. She looked up. Mickey shrugged.
Öröm sighed, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath, then tried again. "So it's a nice place you have back here."
One of the children scoffed. A small boy to the side of her waved his hand, and the girl became quiet. The boy looked up at Öröm with distaste. "You wanted something... yes?"
Her smile faded. Öröm stared at him for only a moment, then pulled a cigarette out of her pocket. She stuck it in the corner of her mouth then lit it, inhaling deeply, then finally blowing the smoke towards the group of children.
The boy coughed. "Cigarette smoke kills, you bitch."
Öröm's eyes went wide with amusement and imitative shock. "Oh really, does it??", she inquired mockingly as she stepped forward, grabbing the boy by his hair. "Well then," she snickered. "Since we're all so adult, how about we just cut through the bullshit?"
The air in her room was hot and sticky, and moisture clung to her skin. She adjusted herself and sighed, becoming immensely satisfied with the change. Not only did she have a ranged homeostasis, but she could also increase or decrease internal function to further control her body's temperature. She found this quite useful, especially in her line of work. There was nothing like putting on a good sweat to make the guys in the front shift positions uncomfortably.
Syn stood and walked to the window on the other side of the room. The sun streamed in towards her; her eyes narrowed instinctively as she peered through, scanning the scenery. She hated the city, but she had ironically found it harder to hide when alone... Although she was never quite sure if she was hiding from them or was perhaps hiding more from herself. People walked without purpose on the streets below while machines hustled past them in pre-programmed hurries.
She decided to go back to sleep. Besides, the day mainly consisted of work, and that was hours away. She might as well let her mind run wild with dreams. It seemed preferable to what it would run with if she decided instead to stay awake.
-----------------
Öröm felt the mild jolt of waking hit her like a wet sponge. She opened one eye, slightly, looking towards the window.
Gah. The sun. My eye.
She threw the blanket back over her head.
Fuck the sun.
But there was work to be done today. Or whenever. Today, tonight, everything was the same. Something fell. She sat up sharply, snapping her head to the right. Mickey sat in her chair in the corner, a smile stretched across his face in an only slightly sane manner. Öröm stared at him blankly, obtaining an overly grumpy, disheveled look.
Mickey laughed. "That's sexy."
Öröm reached up stiffly, rubbing her eye with her middle finger which caused her to lose grip on the blanket. It slid silently down to her side, revealing her upper half. She made no effort to correct it, but instead, looked up with a smile, and brightly responded with "Fuck you, you prick."
She slid off the side of the bed and made her way towards the opposite wall to a lump of blankets, then kicked it. The lump responded with noises of unapproval.
"Get up!", she yelled, kicking it a few more times.
"Aghhhhhhhh!"
She kicked it again, for good measure, and finally the lump distorted, and blankets parted, revealing the guy. He got up and brushed himself off.
Time to roll.
-------------------
No one seemed to pay attention to the fact that a small group of children roamed the streets alone. These children were parentless, mostly by choice, and were never obtainable. They moved through the city like they owned it. Some said they had every corridor mapped out. And even an intricate system of both transportation and communication. Everyone hoped this was not the future generation.
Except for Öröm. So when three strange looking individuals began to approach them, the children made no effort to move. They understood by their demeanor that they were here to negotiate.
Öröm stepped up to the group of children and smiled. The children made no effort to smile back. She looked towards her colleagues. Silence filled the small alley.
"What's up, guys?", she asked cheerfully. Again, she was met with silence. She looked up. Mickey shrugged.
Öröm sighed, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath, then tried again. "So it's a nice place you have back here."
One of the children scoffed. A small boy to the side of her waved his hand, and the girl became quiet. The boy looked up at Öröm with distaste. "You wanted something... yes?"
Her smile faded. Öröm stared at him for only a moment, then pulled a cigarette out of her pocket. She stuck it in the corner of her mouth then lit it, inhaling deeply, then finally blowing the smoke towards the group of children.
The boy coughed. "Cigarette smoke kills, you bitch."
Öröm's eyes went wide with amusement and imitative shock. "Oh really, does it??", she inquired mockingly as she stepped forward, grabbing the boy by his hair. "Well then," she snickered. "Since we're all so adult, how about we just cut through the bullshit?"