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The Perk, Saturday morning

Lucille had her hands wrapped around a CoffeeMug™. She ignored the text scrolling around the edge, having no need to be informed about the ten new flavours that had just been released, one of which was advertised as True Coffee. Her hair was wet and black and blue strands stuck to her temples. The clothes were already dry off course; waterproof fabric of good quality. That was on of the reasons she was still wearing the Neo-Victorian outfit even though she had left the compund several months before. All her money had been spent on the best nano-poisons she could afford. It would be worth it though. When the job was finished she would have enough funds to find herself a nice Neo-House and send a message to her brother to join her.

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The girl that came in to the Perk was clearly more technological than human, the techno-organic mesh that functioned as her skin sparkled in what little light there was, looking almost like she was made out of overlapping crystal scales, or chainmail.

Instead of the remote behaviour of an android, however, she leaned easily on the counter, laughing and flirting with the baristas as they mixed something up for her. There was nothing mechanical in her voice or movements at all, in contrast to her appearance.

Lucille looked up. Even if she had important business to do she would let herself admire a pretty girl. And smile at her. She would allow herself that too.

Ada turned around, her mug of stim-caf cradled in her hands and saw the smile, returning it easily. Her teeth were a bit too sharp for a standard human, but it was the thought that counted, right?

She wandered over, stopping next to Lucille. "This seat taken?"

Lucille avoided stims; it made her senses less precise, even those that were supposed to do the opposite. And slipping chemicals into people's food, or directly into their bloodstream when possible, required precision. Especially the nano viruses that would blow any digital implants required it.

This girl was unlikely to become a victim though, unless she proved herself to be something other than what she seemed. Lucille smiled back. What did sharp teeth matter? It didn't make her any less pretty.

"It is quite empty, I assure you." She gestured for her to take a seat.

Ada was a lot of things; whether or not any of them matched with what she seemed to be was questionable, since even Ada didn't know what she was.

She sat down, sipping carefully at her hot beverage. "'M surprised this place ain't packed to th' walls with people looking to get outta th' rain."

"It always rains," Lucille said, looking at the girl. "Was that what brought you here? Or the need for a hot drink?"

"Yes," she said simply. It answered both questions, really.

"Though just 'cause it always rains don't mean people like it. Or that they should be used t' it. Everyone hopes for th' clouds t' break, don't they?"

"They do?" Lucille took a sip from her mug, studying the girl. She was pretty, yes, but was that enough? Probably not. She was just getting bored and restless.

Still, her imagination offered images of this girl, her body wasting away from subtle poisons while Lucille cared for her, gently stroking her hair while they curled up together in bed.

"Rain every day is boring. 'S not even a good storm, just rain," she said, waving a hand at the outside. "Wet. Eroding. Non-functional. Each an' every one of us a virtual goddess or god of th' digital age, an' we can't do no better than constant rain. Billions of brilliant brains, an' ain't no one managed t' crack th' right code t' make it change. It's a failure of imagination, an' that's a crime."

"Some choose to embrace the rain and use their imagination in other ways."

Such as wondering how this girl would react with a cold blade against her skin.

"Do you have a name?"

Badly. It would go badly. The teeth were not just an appearance modification, they were fully functional and even sharper than they looked.

She shrugged. "You can call me Ada."

She didn't remember what A.D.A stood for -- stupid memory glitches -- but it was what was tattooed under the barcode at the back of her neck, and it was as good a name as any.

"You?"

"Lucille."

She didn't mind teeth if used in the right way. She also didn't bother with a false name. She wasn't going to stay here for long, only until her job was finished.

"Have you been here long?"

"Couple days, I think, maybe a week," she said, looking out the window. "'S hard t' keep track of time when nothing changes."

"Is it that obvious that 'm new?"

Lucille gave a shrug with one shoulder. "I haven't see you before."

The reason for that might also be that she hadn't been here herself for that long.

"Do you have a place to stay?"

"...I've managed." Which was a no, not really. Not beyond the long-abandoned warehouse she'd been crashing in. Once it had probably been a thriving business of some sort, now it just kept the rain out for lost people like Ada. The junkies and other refuse of society that inhabited the various nooks and crannies didn't seem to mind Ada taking up residence as well.

"I have a room," Lucille said. After taking a sip from her drink, she added: "There is room for two."

Maybe she could try out one of those new fancy poisons that she had bought and at the same time enjoy some pleasant company.

Ada's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What's th' catch?"

There was always a catch.

The catch was getting slowly poisoned.

"I live on my own and have few friends here," Lucille replied. "Everyone needs company, don't they?"

Assuming Ada could be poisoned, given her extensive enhancements. She wasn't entirely sure she needed to eat or drink, since none of it ever seemed to affect her. She just liked the warmth of her beverage.

"Maybe," Ada said slowly. "Most people find that company online these days, though."

Lucille was willing to experiment with the poisoning. Ada could drink at least.

"I have been told I'm old fashioned," she said. It wasn't entirely untrue. Growing up among the Neo-Victorians might have something to do with it. "What are your preferences?"

When it came to where to find company or whatever else Ada chose to reply.

"I like people." It was a response to both the spoken question and the unspoken one. "Don't much matter where, or how. Linear space or cyber space. 'S th' connection that matters."

"Isn't it?" Lucille smiled. "I'm so glad we have that in common."

There had to be a sense of connection if you were to kill someone. Well, not for work, perhaps.

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The Perk, Saturday morning

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