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Xavi is roused from his dreamless nap by a stench resembling rancid blood. Felicite mutants are known to have strong noses, so one has to imagine what he feels as he jolts out of his cot, tipping over his IV and ultimately not making it to the trashcan before vomiting in streaks across the linoleum floor. He hears a soft thud and then Iris' footsteps behind his back. She helps him up, then casts a spell to remove evidence of his mess. She is speaking to him, so he tries to pay attention.
" - okay? I brought some lunch from the automat, It's in the bag at the door - "
The source of the smell, then.
"Get rid of it. It smells."
"The lunch? It it that strong?"
"I envy your lack of scent receptors. It's rotten."
"Alright, I'll get rid of it. Here," she takes out his tablet from a compartment in her armor, "you'll want this back," and she tosses the offending bag into the hallway waste chute.
There are no windows to open, so traces of it linger. Xavi curls up with the computer, intent on debugging his latest project. He fiddles with the terminal colors while Iris talks about the automat's limited options.
"There's, like, some type of point system? For the good stuff, you have to have a certain winning streak."
"Wasn't on the contract, was it?"
"I think it was, but it was obscured in legalese."
"Humans do love their legalese."
"And their lying."