"So." You struggle to find a good topic to start a conversation with. Normally you'd talk about the weather but that doesn't really work when you're trapped in an underground facility. You force one of the slop sandwiches down your throat before you steel enough courage to talk to her.

"Lucy." "H-hm?"

"What did you do before all of this?" You gesture at the facility around you. "What did you enjoy doing?"

"Uhm, t-this job is probably a lot more exciting t-than whatever I did." She fidgets with the spoon in her hand.
"I worked as a fucking accountant. It can't be any worse than that."

"oh i'm so sorry." Lucy sadly murmurs. She places a hand on yours as if she's comforting you for losing a loved one. You promptly yank your hand away from hers. "Uhm. I-I'm a painter, actually. I d-did art commissions to, uh, pay for rent. W-wasn't a lot but it was a living."

"Wait, you're an artist? Like, digital or?"

Lucy shakes her head. "Nuh-uh. R-real canvas and p-paint. I-it was something my grandfather did all the time. P-painting outside, watching the leaves blowing in the wind..." A wistful sigh escapes her. She stares into the distance, reminiscing on some long forgotten memories.

You let her linger in it for a moment.

"U-uh, what was I saying?" She snaps out of her reminiscing.
"Don't worry about it. Uh, so what did you draw? Your art style, I guess."

"O-oh! I-I guess you'd label it under Futurism, if you know what that means." "I have no clue." "I-it's art that shows the speed of the modern world. Lots of d-dynamitic movements and energy."

Huh. The start and end of your art knowledge ends at 'it looks pretty or it doesn't but that sounds neat. You nod along, "Well, I hope you can get some stuff from a catalog or somethin' to keep doing that. I'd like to see one of your paintings."

"Haha...t-that'd be nice." She looks down at her hands. She struggles to get them to solidify enough to grab onto her spoon. "If only I could."
"If only- Oh. Right."

You keep talking just so an awkward silence. "Is there any way I can help with that? With the whole, well, medicine supply shortage...I wanna help until we can get that sorted out."

"Haa. I d-dunno. T-the medicine they g-give me is, uh, I don't know what's in it. I-I k-know I have to take that AND eat a lot of food to keep this body from..." She pokes her arm with the flat handle of the spoon. It leaves a solid imprint that takes a long while to fade. "getting worse."

"I. I don't want to rock the boat. I'll find a way t-to manage, Vince." She tries to laugh off your concern but her laugh rings hollow.
You try to string together what little anatomy knowledge you have. "Is there anything you find yourself wanting to eat a lot?" Maybe you can figure out something to give her to help her body out?

"M-meat. Lots and lots of meat. Eggs, gelatin." That does match with what's on her plate. There's a lot of gelatin and boiled fish on her tray. "I-it's never enough, though."

Collagen. That's what she needs.