Joey has been in sticky situations before.  It was a right of passage when you lived in the northern dome.  Even being able to travel south required some tactics in bullshitting, be it forging passes, hacking the computers, or simply being stealthy.  It was not easy to convince a southerner that you had any business in their territory, and it was not easy to obtain a pass when nobody trusted you.  It was a viscous circle.  They weren't trusted because they tended to be vandals and pickpockets, but they were vandals and pickpockets because they weren't trusted enough to secure jobs in the area.  It was not to say some of the northerners didn't manage to make it- she knew of plenty who had originated from the mines and found a place among the rest of society, but for the most part, her sort lived and died up there.  It was the kind of lifestyle suited to one that has accepted their place in the world.  Jo was not that type of person.<br/><br/>The domes were originally built as a sanctuary for the rich and powerful, a place where technology had advanced rapidly whilst those on the outside died slowly from the fallout.  Eventually, the common people became desperate and suddenly abandoned their homes to demand refuge.  They were allowed in, but from the beginning were considered second-class citizens.  It was a well-known fact that many of the people inhabiting the northern end belonged to a faction of miners, whose jobs, by definition, brought them outside the domes frequently.  Much of that land had suffered from decades of turmoil, the weapons of war having ravaged it beyond habitability.  As a result, there was a sickness that seemed to exist only in that part of the dome, and it was entirely the reason the borders between north and south were established.  The people living there unaffectionately nicknamed it the Ancestor's Curse.  If they weren't afflicted by the illness- characterised by discoloured pigmentation, a shortness of breath, and a number of other symptoms- the radiation could cause non-contagious problems.  In Joey's case, it had cost her an arm.<br/><br/>“I wil—l los% e my v%ce so__n,” Joey sputtered, thankful that the Voxel was working its magic.  She didn't need to feign the angered look on her face.  “Alr%dy lo&t an arm!  Now j#t whozzzzt tim& are yo%<a class="__cf_email__" data-cfemail="c5b2a4bfbfb1acab85a2" href="/cdn-cgi/l/email-protection">[email protected]</a>?  You in-b%ed c____________-!” She allowed her voice to buzz out, then slammed a very frustrated fist onto the counter for the full effect.  She gave Mar that crazy eye, the kind only a mad slumdog could possess.  Usually, the crazed ones were too much trouble to deal with, and were largely ignored out of pity.  Radiation carried one hell of a stigma.<br/><br/>The act was convincing, at least Joey thought so, because for the most part she wasn't even acting.  She was quite miffed by not only her most inconvenient timing, but the arrogance Mar displayed- which Jo fully expected of the woman, but it aggravated her nonetheless.  Not to mention, her augmentations were far superior to her own, and Joey felt a pinch of jealousy take hold of her as she eyed the witch.  It was thoroughly satisfying to insult her.  Petty, but satisfying.