FIRST REPLY Damsel in De-Stress

Lace

Stood on the edge, wanna go deeper
Lace
Eddies
12,224
Character Bio
Around midnight in Heywood...​

The sleepless warehouse thrummed with music of the night, someone else's choice of a playlist doused in lazrpop and bitfunk. At least it tuned out the racket coming from the pool table off to one corner of the makeshift back office-turned-breakroom. The stocked cooler and strewn datashards made the place look less abandoned than promised, but it netted Lace a steady stream of cool drinks for the night. Whoever's supply of ChroManticore she was depleting was Jacon's problem when he opened the place for his boss tomorrow.

Lace wasn't here to make friends, anyway. She'd been asked to be here with Ava's friends, after the neighbor girl had made the discovery of her secret. Drugs. Party favors. Things that kept Heywood nights running until dawn. The things that Lace had inevitably shared with the group chilling out in the warehouse with her, most of them much higher than their bank accounts had been an hour ago.

Meanwhile, Lace sipped her drink, staying only as high as the sugar rush and caffeine would get her. She'd found herself a place at the small table in the corner which had no chairs. There were none in the place, in fact, other than the forklift out on the warehouse floor, so she leaned up against the rusted support beam nearby. Beside her, Ava, one of only ones here Lace might have considered a friend, held out a small vial to her.

"It's called taxi." Ava's voice cut through the noise, low but with barely-tempered excitement.

Lace peered through the dim light at the viscous liquid inside. Either her head was too in-sync with the music or the vial had some kind of internal rhythm that made the liquid appear to be pulsing. "Because it's yellow?"

"And," Ava grinned, showing off teeth that lit up in a flash of blacklight strobing about the room, "because it takes you where you need to be!"

"Clever." Lace mused, her senses suddenly on alert. She had done her part as dealer. It felt almost dirty now, talking about drugs like a new movie or the latest gossip from the screamsheets.

Ava pushed, leaning in across the table, "...Sooooo?"

The green-haired teen shrugged. She didn't want to get this far into the drug scene, the only reason she was doing this was for her dad. And the only reason Lace was here at all tonight was due to how careless she'd been with Ava. "I'd have to check with my supplier, I guess. If he wants to carry it or..."

"No, this is for you, choom, her friend explained. Ava put the vial in her hand, sandwiching the promise between their hands. "No greasy middlemen, just straight from the source to your regulars."

Lace thought about that for a moment. The clatter of the pool table broke into her thoughts, sending them veering off like one of the holographic balls. Having her own line to sell could help her get the eddies for dad's meds, the real ones, without paying a cut of it to someone else. Curiosity pushed her forward, one step at a time. "From the source? So you know who makes it?"

"Shh, not so loud." Ava gave her a little smirk, just big enough to see in the dim lighting. "I might know a choom who knows a choom, that's all. This stuff's bound to be big, and when it kicks off you'll be right in front of a pile of eddies."

Hearing just how cryptic their conversation had turned made Lace content herself with a nod. Her eyes traced down to the vial in her palm, examining it now that Ava had retrieved her hand. She could feel Ava's folded arms from here, that easy posture that came to kids in Heywood so easily. Then she said those words that made Lace look up.

"Trust me..."

Lace wasn't listening to Ava any longer, looking past her to the door of the office. She couldn't see anything out the dusty windows to the warehouse floor, but she wasn't the only one who had stopped to listen. Someone was nagging a player to take their turn at pool, only he was distracted by the same thing as Lace. This wasn't her workplace, it was barely even her neighborhood, but she couldn't help but raise the question.

"Does anyone hear that?"

At the same time as everyone else, it seemed.

"I thought you said we were alone, choom."
"Somebody must've called the cops on us!"
"Can't be the cops."
"Shhhh, quiet!"

They were certainly not the only ones in the warehouse anymore, and Lace reached instinctively for her bag. The only windows were shuttered, and broken according to Jacon, if not for the music she would have tried them earlier against the smell. That left only the door as the way out, the same one they'd come in. The same one being approached by footsteps from out on the warehouse floor.

Lace couldn't hear much more over the pounding of her own heart, not even enough to hear herself think. Which might have been a good thing, or she would have been reconsidering her stance against doing the drugs she dealt about now. Jacon, however, had no such self-restraint, his wailing sure to be the first thing the intruders heard when they burst into the office.

"Oh man, I am so getting fired for this!"


OOC: Open to anyone who would enter the warehouse at night, such as the owner, police, or perhaps someone on a gig targeting it.
 
There were countless pros to being a nomad and part of the Rolling Free State of Dawson, not that Minx had ever taken the time to really think about them. There were very few cons by comparison, but at the top of the list had to be her cousin dragging her along on some wild goose chase looking for some chip or part for his car - she couldn't remember anymore - when all she wanted to do was waste her night at a nice dive in Santo. Well, 'nice' may have been the wrong word, but it was better than here.

Not that she could be sure where that was, other than she was somewhere in Heywood in the lot of a warehouse that probably didn't even have whatever it was Malcom was looking for in the first place. But of course her cousin wasn't here, he'd taken a different turn about five minutes ago and ended up who-knows-where. Oh well. At least it gave her a few minutes to relax and enjoy a drink before heading inside.

By the time she hopped down from the driver's seat of her truck she was feeling pleasantly lightheaded, finally working on a nice buzz. A cloud of smoke billowed out after her, and she took a final drag from the spliff before crushing it beneath her boot on the concrete. Then Minx took her first proper look at the warehouse she'd parked in front of and took a moment to groan and roll her eyes, then briefly feel a slight pang of concern and send her cousin a text telling him to meet her back at the camp once he was finished doing…whatever it was he was doing.

Before closing the door to her truck she patted herself down, checking her pockets for her flask and pack of cigarettes. She hesitated for a moment, then used the step welded into place below the door to boost herself up, grabbing her Rocker from the passenger seat and stick it into the makeshift holster she had to alter herself to fit the damn thing. Then she finished the last of the second can of beer in the center console before jumping back down and slamming the door shut with a solid thud, pulling the handle to check that it was locked before ambling in the direction of the warehouse.

It wasn't more than a couple of minutes after setting foot on the warehouse floor that she noticed the steady bass thrumming from somewhere in the back, and after taking an extra second to be sure she wasn't hearing things she briefly considered what to do about it. Most people would leave, probably, not wanting to get tangled up in what could very well be someone else's very illegal business. Fortunately or unfortunately, Minx was not and never would be most people. And so she strolled up to the breakroom door, throwing it open just as someone inside lamented about their future unemployment.

"Huh." This hadn't been what she was expecting. To be fair, she couldn't tell you what she'd thought was behind the door, but a room full of what looked to be mostly teenagers who didn't appear entirely sober wasn't one of them. The pause would only last for half a second, though it felt longer in her own mind. "Shouldn't you guys be at home?"
 
What walked in through the warehouse door was thoroughly not what Lace had expected to see. She was not a cop, that much was plain to see by the lack of uniform. Actually, there was a lack of a lot covering the woman's body, with a jacket and mohawk working overtime to compensate. Lace didn't care all that much while the boys were dumbstruck, even Jacon's big mouth was hanging open without any sound for once.

A snicker from Ava made it clear she thought that was pretty funny, and Lace found herself joining in. Their lady-intruder might not have been as amused by it, though the look on her face was fairly inscrutable. She wasn't like any of the no-nonsense types that the green-haired teenager knew of, and even less like the chief among them, her mom. If Lace had been partaking in the same high as her latest group of friends, that would have been the thought to sober her up faster than any pot of coffee.

"Shouldn't you?"

Lace swung an arm over to tap Ava in the gut, just enough to make a light sound in the room. Just a second ago, that girl was all about being cryptic, and she picked now to be the looselipped gonk? She just about rolled her eyes, clenching her fingers around the vial in her palm for good measure. Someone dropping by the warehouse at night probably wasn't here for a casual chat.

"What my friend means is, we're just hanging out," Lace said, tossing her jacket-covered shoulders. Mom was working late tonight so she'd already answered a few texts as if she was at home anyway. No one was really looking for her, and she didn't need them to. "It's all nova."

"Yeah, it's a private party," Jacon chimed in, finding his tongue again at last. "And you weren't on the guest list."
 
As she was bombarded with sarcastic retorts from all sides, Minx had a brief, short-lived revelation that this must be how Pa felt dealing with her and Malcom. Except at least she and her cousin could take care of themselves mostly, and when they decided to do drugs in some warehouse it was usually abandoned - except for that one incident in Nevada, but it wasn't like that was her fault. And besides, just about everyone here looked like they were no more than half her age, so that gave her seniority, too. Man, kids these days.

"Uhh, home is right outside, actually." It was the only thing she had an immediate answer for, and she hooked her thumb in the general direction of where she'd parked in the lot. "Y'know, nomads?" Most people in the city pinned her as one right away. The mostly rhetorical question was used as an opportunity to invite herself into the room, and if she wasn't stopped she would lean up against the wall just inside the door, not closing it herself so she didn't make this more tense or awkward than it already was.

"So," Minx took a moment to appraise the room, "First of all, I don't need an invitation when it looks like none of you are supposed to be here anyways." God, she sounded just like Pa right now. Whatever cosmic powers had seen fit to make her the figurative adult in the room right now were woefully mistaken in any hope they might have had that she would somehow steer these kids straight. But she could maybe pull off straight-ish, if she tried.

"Second of all," Now she looked at the green-haired girl who seemed the most nonchalant about the whole ordeal, "There's a difference between hanging out and getting high, and trust me, I know it." What it was they had done or were doing was anyone's guess, but she figured it was probably harder stuff than she was used to. "Now before you say anything else, I don't really care, but you probably shouldn't be scrambling your brains with whatever it is you're smoking. Not until you get a little older, anyway."

Having finished what was a mostly half-assed attempt at a lecture, Minx seemed a bit more satisfied with herself than she had been previously, and gave everyone another once-over. "Now that's out of the way, do y'all know anything about what's actually in this warehouse?"
 
The moment the woman pegged herself as a nomad, everything else fell into place about it. Her swagger, her modesty, even that odd little chip on her shoulder about finding people already broken into the place she was breaking into. Why a Nomad would have ventured this far into Night City, Lace could only guess at. And instead of guessing, her friends were biting back at the woman's barbed tongue.

"Where's your badge then?" Jacon was back to full form again, leaning on his pool cue. "I've got a key...somewhere on me. Maybe if you frisk me you can find it."

Even Lace had to snort a little chuckle at that one, finding the thought a little gross just a second later. The guy wasn't much to look at outside of the lean, tattooed figure he liked to show off. She was just glad that he had spent much of the night across the room, Lace didn't want to spend much time thinking about what his strategically-torn clothes weren't covering. Like she was now that he'd suggested as much to the Nomad.

She was about to look away when the Nomad turned her words and those impassive black goggles on her, the ones that made it hard to tell exactly where the woman was looking. Lace couldn't turn away now, not under someone's scrutinizing gaze. If the Nomad wanted something to look at, then she'd better take a good one. The green-haired teenager fixed her eyes straight between those goggle lenses as she threw a thumb at the energy drink cans on the table. "I'm not even doing anything, but thanks for your concern, Mom."

Lace would have actually been surprised if that had worked on her mom, no matter how true it was. It was a good thing she was just as oblivious as this Nomad lady, neither of them needed to know she wouldn't have to find a party like this if she ever wanted to get high.

The nomad's answer actually surprised Lace, who turned reluctantly over to Jacon. Out of all of them, he would know best, but somehow the guy was playing coy again. Looking it, too, in that way that made the edge of the teen's lip curl down. She glanced away just as Ava spoke up, saving the rest of them from having to play ball.

"Since you think we're all scrambling our brains on chems, it's pretty funny you think we'll have deets on this place for you."
 
Normally Minx wasn't the sort to turn down a casual encounter so readily, but at this particular juncture she found herself more concerned about the kids in the room than whatever was in that guy's pants. Not that he looked like there'd be much to him even if she did take him up on it - nothing personal, but he looked like just about every other city-boy she'd laid eyes on since getting here, and a little too clean around the edges to frequent anywhere she usually ended up. "Listen, I appreciate the offer, but," She indicated the group of what she was pretty sure were definitely teenagers, "Time and place, c'mon man."

The two girls were definitely the fearless ones of the bunch, and she held up her hands at the verbal onslaught. "Listen, kid, whatever you wanna get up to in your own time is your business. Not like I can judge." As if to punctuate that point, she produced a flask from one of the inside pockets of her jacket and unscrewed the cap before taking a swig, all without missing a beat. "Just a pretty intense scene for someone your age."

Minx stepped carefully further into the room then, glancing in the direction of the one who'd said something about whatever was actually in this place. "And believe me, I know you're scrambling your brains on chems." She tapped the side of her head for emphasis. "It's in the eyes."

Her stroll around the sparse room stopped when she reached the pool table, and she half-leaned, half-sat on its edge, knocking back another half a shot from her flask. "What is this, then, just some kinda hangout?" She looked between the trio that had been snarking at her so far. "One of you works here, probably, or knows a guy who does - that's how you got in. Left the door open, by the way." Not that it would have mattered if they didn't, but it made her job easier. Quieter, too.

"And I'm guessing…" Her eyes wandered around the room before landing on the green-haired girl again. "You're where they got the supply, right? Dressed too nice compared to the other kids I've seen runnin' around most of the city." It wasn't often Minx prided herself on her observational skills, but sometimes it all laid itself out right in front of her, and all she had to do was put the pieces together.

"What d'you guys call yourselves, anyway?" She leaned a bit heavier into the pool table now. "I'm Minx, by the way."
 
Most regular people would have just given up by then, which was what Lace was halfway expecting after Ava's remark. If the Nomad wanted something form the warehouse, she could just go get it without bothering them. It wasn't like they were going to stop her. The woman was right about one thing, Jacon and the others, even Ava to a degree, had spent the night scrambling their brains in a smash-n-dorph. Not Lace, she'd only brought the dorph —or what passed for it with this crowd— and never touched the stuff herself.

It wasn't her fault the Nomad couldn't tell the truth from sarcasm.

"I'm not a little kid," Lace said firmly, really hoping that would send the woman shuffling off from where she came from. And still the Nomad stuck around, getting up close and personal with Ava the way Jacon had been practically begging for. "So..." she had to put in, even if the woman was right about the red rings around her friend's eyes, "What happened to not judging?"

At least the lady pulled back after that, turning those sweeping goggles on the rest of them. Lace, already through feeling courageous in the face of examination, was getting a little tired of those by now. Some Nomad dropping into the middle of town to tell them off for hanging out on the quiet? It wasn't like they were ripping up the warehouse either. One of the guys had said something about taking the forklift for a spin earlier, but nothing had ever come of it. They were practically being polite!

"You're where they got the supply, right? Dressed too nice compared to the other kids I've seen runnin' around most of the city."

Lace nearly fell off her pillar at the pinpoint accuracy of those goggles. One hand gripped its side, though, keeping her upright. The loud thump of the music and pool table had been her rhythm for the night, but now her heart took its place, rapping sharply on her ribcage in case she'd forgotten it was there. This was not an old friend at the door, for a second that old spell of being in trouble caught her throat again and squeezed it tight.

"Lay off her, she's just a Beav." That was Ava coming to her rescue, or at least returning the favor from earlier. Lace felt like she could finally breathe again and she turned to her friend with a face full of relief. Not even the mild insult could bother her, only the way the Nomad guessed so quickly how they'd acquired tonight's drugs. "Why are you bothering us anyway?"

"Oh, she can bother me all she wants," Jacon had made his way over now, standing just behind the Nomad. He sniffed, probably from the high, as he tried to lean over the woman's shoulder, stumbling short when Ava gave his leg a sharp kick. "Ow!"

"We're the Nunyas, surprised you haven't heard of us." Now Lace did fall off her pillar, giggling into Ava's shoulder to hold herself up. "Nunya Biz."

Lace didn't see if Minx found the whole thing funny as well, but she didn't hear footsteps yet. Guess she was staying for more sass and teenage politeness.
 
Reaching up with one hand, Minx pulled the dark goggles off and down around her neck, finally revealing her nearly-as-dark colored eyes. "I didn't say you were a little kid," She corrected, raising an eyebrow at the question of judgement, "And I ain't judging nothin'." Liquor sloshed quietly inside her flask as she shook it for emphasis. "Not really much room for that. Just sayin', is all." By comparison she wasn't as evidently intoxicated, but she certainly wasn't sober either. Not much of a feat, really - she couldn't recall a time she'd been sober in the past eight years, not that she was keeping track.

"Don't care that her parents got money either, nothin' she could do to change that." A shrug, and she screwed the cap back on her flask and stashed it back in the inside pocket of her jacket before continuing, "All she can choose is how she uses it." Maybe if she'd been a bit less drunk - or a bit smarter - the poignancy of her words might have struck her. As it was, she simply moved on to the next thing.

In this case, 'the next thing' entailed another sad attempt at flirting that ended with a kick to the shin, and she rolled her eyes when she turned to Jacon. "I'm gonna give you one more chance, yeah? A no's a no. Keep it up and I'll put you on the ground, and not in the way you're hopin' for." Despite the threat it could be considered, nothing about her tone of voice or demeanor noticeably changed.

Minx couldn't help but snort in laughter at the retort to her attempt at introductions. "Right, okay, I walked into that one." The kid was funny, she'd give her that. "Didn't think talking was such a bother. Here I thought getting high was 'sposed to mellow you out." Though if she was being honest, she wasn't really sure if that was the case with whatever passed for drugs in the city. Her family had their own suppliers, and her cousin hadn't dabbled in much more than his usual synth-coke so far - but then, it wasn't like they'd been around for very long yet.

"Speakin' of, ain't it a bit of a dangerous scene? I mean," She shifted so she was now sitting entirely on the pool table, "Not like I know a whole lot, I don't come into town much except to hang in Santo." 6th Street had been good to her family so far, despite the ideological differences - a veteran was a veteran, and the Rolling Free State of Dawson had their fair share, herself included. "But I figured there's gangs or somethin' involved, usually. And, uh, no offense, but y'all don't quite seem the type."
 
It felt rather silly to be getting lectured by a Nomad. The woman had clearly wandered too far into the city, nearly to dead center at that. Lace figured that was why she was drinking so heavily, too many walls or people or whatever. The life of a Nomad wasn't all that interesting to her, the wild hills around the town were well known as a breeding ground for lawless raiders and worse. That seemed terrifying to the green-haired teen, yet here was this woman, somehow a survivor of it all but for the frequent pulls from her flask.

And she had the audacity to tell them off for doing drugs.

"I mean, I could be out shopping, there's probably a sale on at the New Harbor Mall or something," Lace shot back, not altogether happy her family's status was being dragged through the mud here. She flashed Ava a grin for covering, this was better than having Minx badgering her for product. Leaning up against the column again, she crossed her arms as she looked the woman in her dark eyes. "That's what we do, right? Us rich kids, not chilling out around town with the proles."

If an eyeroll could be audible, it would have drowned out the music right then. Minx was making herself at home and taking shots at all of them. When she planted her butt on the pool table, one of the guys —it might have been Jacon, Lace wasn't paying attention exactly right then— nudged her with the butt of a cue. "Hey, we're playing here!"

Now it was Ava's turn to laugh, "That's about the most danger you'll find here, lady. " She flicked her head toward her last victim, his arms flexing as he rubbed his indignant calf. "That or Jace's guns."

Lace nodded an agreement, rolling her fingers over the vial in her hand. Suddenly she came to a decision, one she was pretty sure Ava was going to like. And even though Minx acted like she broke into the warehouse for something, she sure didn't seem in a big hurry to leave. "Speaking of mellow, you know who could use some mellow? And before you guess, it's definitely you."

Lace rolled the vial out from between her fingers to show the Nomad. She had to swing her arm suddenly, barely holding onto the vial, when Ava grabbed for it. "Lace, no. What are you doing?"

"I'm trusting you, Ava, like you wanted. We're all chooms here, neh?" Lace couldn't understand why her friend was suddenly reluctant to let Minx try the new drug. She wasn't about to, that was for sure, but someone had to do it. "It's gonna blow up and be the next big thing, I swear. Heard of it? It's called Taxi."

Rummaging in her jacket pocket brought out an inhaler, the socket empty where the meds would go. Or, in this case, the drugs that the Nomad had accused her of supplying earlier. The offer came with a small smirk on the teen's face, whether she was goading or boasting was up to Minx to decide.
 
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If you asked Minx, the life of a nomad was the only life worth living. Sure, it could be dangerous, but not in the way most people thought, and definitely not in the same way as the streets. The way she saw it, she was just trying to make sure these kids understood what they were getting into. Maybe she was overstepping a little, but they clearly weren't hearing anything like this from anyone else in their lives. Or maybe they were, and that was the problem.

"To be honest, I don't know much about what y'all get up to in the city, and that wasn't my point. Just sayin' it might be good to have some class consciousness, is all." Not that she was counting on them knowing exactly what that meant, or caring for that matter. But it was a good lesson, and one she figured most people in the city never got taught. Maybe that was the problem.

When the drugs were offered she slid down off the table, though with her height she'd been nearly touching the ground anyhow. For a second she considered it, then remembered Pa was still upset with her after what had happened a week ago with that NUSA deputy and figured she probably shouldn't push it. Not that anything had actually happened, but that wasn't for her to decide, as she'd been reminded about a million times since then. She hated cops just as much as the rest of her family, it wasn't her fault some of them knew how to have a good time.

If Lace would let her she'd take the vial and examine it for a moment. This was the sorta thing Malcom was into more than her, but - maybe fortunately, maybe unfortunately - he wasn't here. Taxi, the kid had said, and look at that: it was even yellow. In one smooth motion she'd pocket the vial in the opposite pocket as her flask, and when she removed her hand from her pocket she was holding both her lighter and another spliff. "Not really my thing, but," She put the filter between her lips and lit the tip, taking a drag, "Might be somethin' my cousin would like." A cloud of smoke was fast on the trail of her last few words.

"Which, speakin' of…" Minx trailed off for a moment, flicking through her recent messages in the corner of her vision with just a thought and stifling a sigh when she saw her cousin hadn't even looked at her text. It hadn't been long enough that she was worried yet - anyone who knew him also knew he'd been on far longer benders than this - but he needed to get back to the camp one way or the other tonight. It would be a little nicer if that wasn't her responsibility, but oftentimes the two of them were each other's keeper, and generally not always for the best or least chaotic outcome.

"I gotta head out pretty soon, need to take care of a couple things first. But, uh," She gestured with the hand holding the spliff, tendrils of smoke following her movements, "Any of y'all need a ride? I got room for three, more if y'all are okay with doubling up or gettin' creative." Not that she was in a state most would consider suitable for operating a motor vehicle, never mind the beast of one she drove, but it seemed to her that was a minor concern compared to everything else tonight.
 
The Nomad kept talking like she was judging her, despite every word claiming otherwise. It put the green-haired teenager on edge, an edge that made her regret giving away the vial of Taxi now. A glance toward Ava told her that she thought the same way, but all Lace could do now was shrug her shoulders and mouth a challenging, What? in the direction of the accusation. It wasn't like she could take it back now.

Even so, Lace made sure to watch carefully as Minx eschewed her offered inhaler for a more rudimentary setup. She'd only ever seen that in movies and old braindances, and it might have shown in her eyes that grew wide at the actual flame being used for it. "So, you're a stoner too?"

Ava finally came back to life then, joining in on that line. "And you had the gall to tell us we were scrambling our brains?"

"That stuff'll mess you up," Lace nodded in turn, though she was quick to defend her own hobby. "And not in a good way." At least she didn't have a habit like this lady's, or the rest of the crowd. One that Minx thought she didn't belong with. Not that Lace needed to have more money than Jacon and the rest to get that they weren't really her crowd. School taught her plenty of that, alongside digital literacy and business acumen. Lace didn't always fit in there, and definitely didn't fit here, but sometimes that didn't matter. If she could supply these kids a chance to get high and herself a chance to get out on a weeknight, it'd all pay off.

Narrowing her eyes at Minx, Lace held out her hand to the woman. "I'll take that back now." She could see Ava's approval out of the corner of her eye. It gave the teen a wicked thought, one that her prep school teachers would appreciate —if they could stomach the reasoning, "Unless you think your cousin's going to like it enough to want more..."

Lace and Minx stood opposite the other, both holding out offers just waiting for a taker. So, of course, it was Jacon who spoke first.

"Don't need to take care of much other than me," Jacon must have already forgotten the swift lesson Ava'd given his kneecap, getting up close behind the Nomad. He put his hands on her shoulders, and Lace figured that was why so many wore spikes on their jackets. "I like getting creative. Sit on my lap, I'll drive the car and you can drive me...as fast as you like."
 
Minx was about to explain that the inner workings of her cousin's mind were unknowable even to herself, until she felt hands on her shoulders and Jacon dropped a line she was pretty sure she'd heard before. It wasn't that she minded cheesy pick-up lines, but it seemed like everyone always used the same ones - or got them from the same bad tabloid page. It didn't seem like a little originality was too much to ask for. Her eye roll was matched in magnitude only by Lace's from earlier, and she held up a finger as if to bid the teen to wait a moment while she made good on her half-hearted threat from earlier.

Then she turned and delivered a swift knee to where the sun doesn't shine, sending Jacon tumbling to the warehouse floor. "You really gotta learn to take no for an answer, man." She shook her head, taking another drag and exhaling with a sigh. "Maybe if you spent less time hangin' out in the back of some building with a bunch of teenagers you'd have a bit more luck with the actually gettin' any situation." Then again, if he went out to bars and acted like this, odds were he'd be getting laid out left and right - and still not in the way he was looking for.

Having finished with her improvised life lesson, she turned back to the group in front of her. "Sorry 'bout that. I tried bein' nice, and someone had to teach him what 'no' means. Anyways," She had to pause for a moment to recall where they'd last left off, "I gave up on tryin' to guess what goes on in my cousin's head a long time ago, but I figure probably, yeah." Not that it was much of a feat, considering his synth-coke habit and the autoinjector that delivered a hit directly to his bloodstream with just a thought, but these kids didn't need to know those details.

For a moment she thought about addressing the comment from earlier with a retort that at least marijuana and tobacco are naturally occurring, but she'd learned by now that would just feed into another circular round of teenage sass. Man, she really needed to apologize to Pa later - she got it now.

"So," Minx clapped her hands together, "Now that's outta the way, rides. Like I said, I can get y'all home if you need." She hooked her thumb in Jacon's general direction, "Even him, if he keeps his hands to himself this time." Even if nobody took her up on the offer, it made her feel a little better just having made it. She was some kind of responsible for these kids until the end of the night, she figured. "Truck's parked right outside, can't miss it."
 
That had been bugging Lace since the moment they were interrupted by Minx, the way Jacon had immediately started flirting. And hard. He'd barely said a word to her personally, and if he did it was usually pretty on the level. His approach to the Nomad might have worked if they were in a bar somewhere —not that Lace would get caught dead in one, her parents would both kill her if she was— those kinds of conversations happened in places like that, especially with people their ages. He and Minx seemed around the same age, anyway, it was hard to tell with people older than her.

Lace got a creeping sense of satisfaction from seeing Minx shove her knee right into his crotch, dropping Jacon to the concrete floor. She flinched at first, grimacing in sympathy to the pain but quickly peeking back to get the full picture. There was something about the scantily-clad guy laid out from his unwanted advances that looked right to her, something the green-haired teenager wasn't about to spread around. She only passed a look of silent thanks over at the Nomad, who was carrying on with the conversation like Jacon wasn't rolling in pain at her feet.

It might have been the funniest thing Lace had seen all day.

"In that case," she shrugged, trying to return to what had been on her mind just seconds ago. The vial that Minx had slipped in her pocket, of course, Lace recalled as her eyes flicked toward the pocket it had disappeared into. "It's not exactly free, but..."

Like the woman said, she had a car. It was also midnight, or past midnight now that Lace double-checked. Mom was going to be home at some point, and she was better off being there first. Or smelling like a dorphden. "We can talk on the way. You got a self-driver or...?"

Nomads were gearheads, Lace knew that much. If anyone had cars that could drive themselves, it'd be them. And Delamain, making her wonder if those cars would service the badlands at all. Taking one last pull of her cola, the can had been empty for a while now but she might have scored a lucky last drop, the green-haired teen pushed herself off from the pillar. She stepped over Jacon, turning back to see if Ava was following. They had all crammed into one car earlier, belonging to one of the other guys who had wisely stayed clear of Minx so far. "Coming?"

"Might as well, someone's gotta keep an eye on you," came her answer. Even one of the guys, the only one left standing, tipped his head in an up-nod to Minx and stood ready to follow. That made three to head out to the truck with the Nomad, one who wouldn't need to drive far to all their Heywood addresses tonight. They left Jacon to deal with his pain, plus the mess his boss probably would be upset about. Lace didn't think she'd be so willing to hang out with that guy anytime soon again.

Lace just had one burning question as they set out, "So why did you pick that warehouse?"
 
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