A man stood over her minuscule frame, a judgmental frown wrinkling his features. "Look Ise, you need to calm down on the tech. You need to unplug for a bit. Grab a brew. Pop a tab and dance with real life humans. Feel the bass against your chest. Yeah?"

A frown pressed her lips and she sighed, scrunching her youthful features into the plastic of the 'surgical' bench she was laid across. She truly was tired of this conversation. This was the second time tonight. He didn't really care, as was obvious by the bone saw whirring to a start in the background. "Look, I need this. Life isn't..." the neural reboot he had started just a moment ago kicked in and she was out. The man who began cutting into her took a moment to wonder how she may have finished that. Life isn't what?

-[i]hours and a surgery later[/i]-

She was fully refunctional, overlyfunctional, a regular scoop away in the world of ice cream hording. You know what life wasn't? It wasn't focusing on what life wasn't. She was as sure of that now as she felt she was earlier. She gripped at the side of the wall for a moment.

"Stay longer Ise. Your cables still aren't clicking." The voice came from the back. He was cleaning his tools back there. She blinked a couple of times and tightened her fingertips into a fist, release, repeat. She threw her jean clad legs to the side and combat boots held her weight on the ground.

"I'm fine." She dug in a side pouch, comfortable fingers finding the sizzle red smoke and putting it between her lips. She snapped against the side of her left thumb and a flame was emitted, a poser novelty trick really as the flint like substance would only last a short time, but it did the trick. "Look, I should be going." She pressed the cigarette between her already full functional lips. She tested her toes. She seemed to be in order.

"You hate my neighborhood, I get it." The large man feigned a frowned, but it didn't suit him.

"Don't act offended. Your neighborhood is a shithole." She hadn't even looked at him. She was talking through a cigarette and testing out her neural connections. In less than a banger headspin she was stepping out of the front door of his shop, testing the little neural pathways she automatically accessed without paying much attention to the real world, bad call in Night City. But hey, some girls aren't unlucky, and this such girl stepped directly into an off duty cop. She glanced right at him without a thought. Her right eye was a buzz with unseen nanosurgeons exhausting their efforts on an obviously self healing eye so that he witnessed the retina return to a circular shape and the eye color stabilize.

The cigarette fumbled out of her mouth, her eyes following as she tilted her head to shield her eye. "I....Excuse me."