Torn is probably the best way to describe the way Lydia feels when she sees Tony coming into view. Of course, she's glad to see him. Of course, she's glad her friend is okay, but she can't help that nagging upset in the back of her mind that she should be doing something to fix the thing in his chest and put him right. He shouldn't need it. This place has better medical technology than that and everyone knows it. It makes her angry to see the glow in his chest because it shouldn't be there.
But Lydia bites all of that back to offer him a smile instead because she is happy to see him, after all. "Thanks very much," she says proudly, looking around a little. She put a lot of effort into that, if she's honest. Lydia woke up early, much to both her own and Matt's chagrin, and she'd headed down to the Commissary around 6:00 so that she could get the shop organized. It had largely already been set up by the bots she'd been given as employees, but she wanted to put on finishing touches and make sure everything was just so. Aesthetics are everything, after all.
"It's a little slow today so far, but I think that's mostly because it's the first day," she says, because she has to tell herself that it isn't because of her product; she'll be crushed if she put all that effort into something that falls flat on its face, after all, and she can kiss further promotions goodbye if she can't deliver with this one. "How are you feeling?" she asks, knowing that there must be some kind of gravitational burden to having that thing lodged in his chest. It doesn't look like it'd be very lightweight. It probably aches, she thinks, and looks sympathetically at him in response to her own thought process.
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But Lydia bites all of that back to offer him a smile instead because she is happy to see him, after all. "Thanks very much," she says proudly, looking around a little. She put a lot of effort into that, if she's honest. Lydia woke up early, much to both her own and Matt's chagrin, and she'd headed down to the Commissary around 6:00 so that she could get the shop organized. It had largely already been set up by the bots she'd been given as employees, but she wanted to put on finishing touches and make sure everything was just so. Aesthetics are everything, after all.
"It's a little slow today so far, but I think that's mostly because it's the first day," she says, because she has to tell herself that it isn't because of her product; she'll be crushed if she put all that effort into something that falls flat on its face, after all, and she can kiss further promotions goodbye if she can't deliver with this one. "How are you feeling?" she asks, knowing that there must be some kind of gravitational burden to having that thing lodged in his chest. It doesn't look like it'd be very lightweight. It probably aches, she thinks, and looks sympathetically at him in response to her own thought process.