[ Is that all he's worried about? She gives him a half-exasperated look, turning to the side so that he might see the data port at the base of her skull. It's much larger than normal, cold metal grafted directly to skin and gaping open, clearly empty, and there's a series of circular ports heading all the way down her spine. The dragonscale scattered around them glitters cold in the moonlight. ]
no subject
Neural lace. Just a radio signal, cowboy.