❝ we let the bodies hit the floor then what? next we’ll have bodies hitting walls, roofs, you name it, bodies will be hitting it ❞
This is thekind of time I wish I could drink legally. The drinking age in Italy is SIXTEENfor goodness’ sake. Why is it twenty-one here?
Honestly, Neo thought she might need something to survive thenight. It’s been so weird she was kind of unconvinced she hadn’t had anything.
“We let thebodies hit the floor and then what? Next we’ll have the bodies hitting walls,roofs, you name it, bodies will be hitting it.”
That was an odd reaction. Neo spun around on her chair again tospot the girl - a girl who somehow has even fucking brighter hair than Neptune.Speaking of Neptune, he’d better be okay, that asshole. It took a few rounds ofblinking to grow accustomed to its aqua-like colour. Was this how people feltabout her hair, too? She’d always thought it was kind of more muted.
. . . I don’tknow how that would happen.
Neo’s uncomfortable and it’s showing in her body language,shuffling on her chair a little bit. This whole conversation is a little tooclose for comfort. Why does she always have to make personal connections toevery situation?
There’s allthat gravity shit, so unless you were falling from a plane, or threw yourself, itwouldn’t work…?
She was trying desperately to make some light of the wholesituation but it didn’t seem to be working.
I’m tryingto find something logical to hold onto tonight. But…tonight seems prettystrange.
Why was she telling this to a stranger in a god damned bar?Awkward small talk…how do you make a conversation that doesn’t contain personaldetails?