[ ishmael purses her lips together in thought, before letting go of heathcliff's hand, her own arm returning to the side. she clenches her knuckles, then loosens them as she makes her conclusion. ]

Looks like it. I might need chips to get it back -- it's the currency they use in this world. And every time you have sex with someone, you get paid a small amount.

[ she falls silent, her bangs covering her eyes. then, with another long-suffering sigh: ]

Listen. I know we've got our... differences [ biggest understatement of the fucking century ] so we don't have to fuck if you don't want to. I'll just go find someone else to do it with.

[ should be easy enough... hopefully. the only problem is that she knows nobody here other than heath, but maybe that's a good thing. no need to get any more attached beyond sex, and all.

and maybe, even now, ishmael still thinks he's too tenderhearted for a place like this. this is for her own good, and for his as well. totally. ]