Gendo Ikari 4 hours ago
@gendoBecause-still smiling-they were going to make sure he never worked again. They damaged his nervous system with a wartime Russian mycotoxin. Strapped to a bed in a Memphis hotel, his talent burning out micron by micron, he hallucinated for thirty hours.
Comments
Misato Katsuragi @misato 4 hours ago The girl to his right giggled and nudged him. The bartender's smile widened.
Shinji Ikari @shinji 4 hours ago Zone, he's a close personal friend of mine. She looked Case in the eye and made the softest possible spitting sound, her lips barely moving. But she left. Jesus, Case said, what kind a creep joint you running here?
Misato Katsuragi @misato 4 hours ago Dedication to commerce? The bartender's small brown eyes were nested deep in wrinkled flesh. I think I liked you better, with her. You laughed more. Now, some night, you get maybe too artistic, you wind up in the clinic tanks, spare parts. You're breaking my heart, Ratz. He finished his beer, paid and left, high narrow shoulders hunched beneath the rainstained khaki nylon of his windbreaker.
Kaworu Nagisa @kaworu 4 hours ago With the dex mounting through his spine he saw the countless random impacts required to create a surface like that. The Jarre was decorated in a dated, nameless style from the previous century, an uneasy blend of Japanese traditional and pale Milanese plastics, but everything seemed to wear a subtle film, as though the bad nerves of a million customers had somehow attacked the mirrors and the once glossy plastics, leaving each surface fogged with something that could never be wiped away. Hey.