"...There's got to be hope, though." Jo blinked, watching the man quietly as he explained his home. "...I mean, even we have hope that the earth will recover from the war, and it's a nuclear and chemical wasteland; even the oceans are acidic." She managed a reassuring half smile, shrugging slightly. "I bet you, in a few years, things won't be as bad. So, I hope you don't put yourself in a pessimistic rut." 

She fell silent for a moment as she contemplated the idea presented to her, before shaking her head. "..Not really. More like, hell, purgatory, and heaven. Nobody is godlike here, I feel like I need to stress that to you," She blinked, smirking slightly. "Though, the people on the bottom aren't paying for crimes. They just can't afford to move up. It's the main reason why I can't go any higher, too; money makes everything work, and I spend too much of it on books. The people on the top are either rich, or powerful, or come from either- like, the president, or governors, or multi-millionaires, or their kids." She bit her bottom lip sheepishly, watching the man as he started to go through the book.

"Ah- I can defend myself!" She spoke quickly, to catch him before he left. "My dad made sure to give me what I'd need to protect myself if anything were to happen-- I, um, I'll write to you about it later. I'll have work for a while longer, so I'll let you know when I'm free. Stay safe; if I can find you anything of mine that'll help you, I don't mind loaning it to you." She finished before he went completely through, picking up the book carefully once he was out.

Carefully shutting it, she moved to the kitchen, grabbing herself a glass of water and sipping at it, before deciding to head back to the platform her work was on. She set it in the sink, taking her book with her as she moved to her car, allowing herself to digest all that had happened as it took off and brought her where she had been previously. Not wanting to awkwardly return to the cafe yet, she decided to hang around the nearby robot repair place, browsing modifications that could be made to her old robot. After some time doing that, she took out her pen and book, and started writing.

"[i]Ok, I assume you're safe now- at least, safe enough for me to write to you. I have two guns; a pistol, and a rifle I inherited from my grandfather, and a pair of hoverboots that let me escape situations faster than I can run. Your world sounds very, very dangerous; should I bring my pistol, just in case? What it does, if it helps, is turn anything that isn't metal to ash. It can be kind of slow when it goes through a person, but it's usually enough to stop someone. Unless they're, like... huge. Or covered in metal from head to toe with no openings.[/i]" She drew a rough diagram of her gun; mostly a crude, bubble weapon with a pointy end, with "pew pew" and "shoots beams of light" written around it.

"[i]Also, I forgot to address this, but the president here only has regulations on food, not laws. Like, no crickets in bread, no rats in the factories that make our food, and people can't sell anything rotten. I meant article, like news article, or a report. [/i]"