She makes an appreciatively spooked noise at Reno's warning about the prison, half-laughing -- but she does recognize it for the warning it is, and takes notice.
The look of this place is somewhat familiar: it's like a certain kind of transfer station, where there's money to be made from entertaining the wealthy and bored passing through. It even looks a little like a station from the outside, a tall gold-glittering spindle with bays and levels built out from it, dotted with lines of colored lights. The noise kills the illusion of being in space, though; it's audible even before the cable-car docks, the sounds of thousands of people frenetically enjoying themselves.
She studies the information board with mock seriousness, tapping her cheek with one long fingernail. (Her nailpolish is gold, today; she's back in the green-and-gold jumpsuit.)
"What's this, exactly?" she asks, indicating the roller coaster.
no subject
The look of this place is somewhat familiar: it's like a certain kind of transfer station, where there's money to be made from entertaining the wealthy and bored passing through. It even looks a little like a station from the outside, a tall gold-glittering spindle with bays and levels built out from it, dotted with lines of colored lights. The noise kills the illusion of being in space, though; it's audible even before the cable-car docks, the sounds of thousands of people frenetically enjoying themselves.
She studies the information board with mock seriousness, tapping her cheek with one long fingernail. (Her nailpolish is gold, today; she's back in the green-and-gold jumpsuit.)
"What's this, exactly?" she asks, indicating the roller coaster.