Well, until that day comes knocking, I will continue to be a menace to drunk men everywhere. The straight man's bogeyman.

( he finds his gun in the back of the drawer and snaps the mag back into the cradle, racking the slide. far more armed than necessary, probably, but too much paranoia has never not served him well, and felix has made plenty of enemies over the past several years. they're between jobs, holed up on a lush little moon of a large gas giant, in a bustling city surrounded by jungle on one side and an ocean on the other.

the louder the place, the better. easier to blend in. felix doesn't do quiet well, and he no longer has ortez breathing down the back of his neck to keep him from stepping out of place. that hard line in the sand is gone. there's just ephemera, and ephemera is –

different. high risk, like his profile on the tartarus said.

he stares at his sidearm, flexing his palm over the grip. )

We need to get you an actual alias, T. ( idly, as he holsters his gun and turns back to ephemera. he splits his wad of cash in half, tucking several folded bills into the pocket of ephemera's sweatshirt. ) Buy yourself some ciggies. What do you want for breakfast?

( there's a cute little cafe just under the seedy hotel they're crashing, or a market with food carts down the street. felix isn't picky. )