(Untitled)

[sime_channel]

After her evening in Remy's world Suz feels somewhat better. Not a lot better, but somewhat. She's still rather pale, and don't ask her about the giant spiders that keep wandering past on the heads of waitrats.

Psychospatial disorientation involves hallucinations. So she's not trying to knit today, just reading slowly. Really slowly.

Comments

[over_europe]

Last night, Nixon got a key, made his way upstairs, and promptly passed out the second his head hit the pillow. So it is that there's a disheveled soldier settling in nearby now, face still dirty, helmet under his arm, rifle over his shoulder, and a plate of pancakes in hand. He nods in the woman's direction, only glancing at her quickly, before turning his (enthusiastic) attention to his breakfast.

It feels like it's been forever since he's had pancakes.

[sime_channel]

Lets give a couple of notes about the young woman, shall we? She's small, in between 5'2 and 5'3. Curly black hair, the kind of skin that is pale in deep winter and sort of yellow-beige if she tries to tan, big blue eyes. Very delicate looking. She's reading with her fingertips instead of those big blue eyes of hers, trailing them along the lines of Braille slowly.

Oh, yeah. And she has tentacles. Delicate, slender, the same color as her skin. No suckers, they're smooth. Eight of them that are visible, (four per arm) and four lines that look not unlike scars from her wrists to her elbows. Can't forget those.

"Good morning? Or afternoon? Some part of the day, anyway." She says in response to the nod.

[over_europe]

Nix glances up again, greeting on the tip of his tongue, but then -

Yeah, he missed those the first time around.

Maple syrup drips unnoticed from the bite of pancake held up on his fork.

"Good morning," he manages after a moment.

[sime_channel]

She smiles, wryly, at his look (and his nager flare) and says, "I'm a symbiotic sub-mutation of a sub-species of humanity from the future?" Because chances are pretty low that he's stunned by her beauty, or anything silly like that, "But I am human. My name is Suzi Darley?"

[hcliffhuxtable]

Cliff, regretfully, feels he has to go home for a bit. He's on his way to Bar for a last round before the front door.
Noticing Suzi, he detours.
There's frowning as he notes her pallor. "Hey, Suzi."

[sime_channel]

"Hi." She says, cheerfully enough, and she waves a bit.

[hcliffhuxtable]

"How're you doing?"

[sime_channel]

"Um. Aside from the psychospatial disorientation which, um, is currently making it look sort of like your skin is orange and blue and maybe glowing? I'm fine." She means that, too.