"You'll see. It's called the Horizon, and it's almost impossible to understand if you ain't been there." Julie knows it would have been for her. A world where they have literally anything they can think of -- as long as they can think of it. Their very own psychic plane. And for Julie, the most important place in any universe ever. "It's how our text messaging... network... thing works. We don't have a real name for that. But it's all in your mind. We're connected to each other, all the Summoned, 'cause we're connected to the Singularity."
From a display, she pulls out a white jacket with purple flowers stitched along the high back collar. When she returns to the display, the jacket remains in midair next to her, held aloft by an unseen hand like a ghost. She snorts loudly. "Swear to god, I'd open Starbucks here if I knew how to do all that shit," she says, and she has absolutely had the thought before. Sometimes, Julie makes lists of all the things that haven't been invented in Abraxas yet, just to see what she can steal and patent for herself.
Glancing at Abby, Julie seems to need to think for a moment. "Denim ain't really made it to fashion here yet. They got jeans, but it's not anythin' like you're thinkin'. It's that pure, rough denim you gotta break in, and it's pretty much just for men workin' in the factories and mines. But," she continues, before Abby can teenage girl huff at her, "we can get you some stovepipes. Maybe like a black twill? Or a pinstripe."
She plucks the jacket from the air with the hand carrying the shopping bag, then a pair of narrow-legged trousers in dark brown on a hanger flies from a different rack and hovers near Abby as Julie squints thoughtfully. "Mm, but with your hair color and eyes, you could really pop in chocolate. Maybe with a red blouse."
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From a display, she pulls out a white jacket with purple flowers stitched along the high back collar. When she returns to the display, the jacket remains in midair next to her, held aloft by an unseen hand like a ghost. She snorts loudly. "Swear to god, I'd open Starbucks here if I knew how to do all that shit," she says, and she has absolutely had the thought before. Sometimes, Julie makes lists of all the things that haven't been invented in Abraxas yet, just to see what she can steal and patent for herself.
Glancing at Abby, Julie seems to need to think for a moment. "Denim ain't really made it to fashion here yet. They got jeans, but it's not anythin' like you're thinkin'. It's that pure, rough denim you gotta break in, and it's pretty much just for men workin' in the factories and mines. But," she continues, before Abby can teenage girl huff at her, "we can get you some stovepipes. Maybe like a black twill? Or a pinstripe."
She plucks the jacket from the air with the hand carrying the shopping bag, then a pair of narrow-legged trousers in dark brown on a hanger flies from a different rack and hovers near Abby as Julie squints thoughtfully. "Mm, but with your hair color and eyes, you could really pop in chocolate. Maybe with a red blouse."