“ this seat taken? ” panam asked, but before @samuraisrelic could even answer, she’d already planted herself beside them, arms folded atop the bar’s surface. there the nomad was again, sitting in the afterlife’s stale, stifling atmosphere. booze and cigarette smoke—a nasty .c.

not a big deal. shit goes sideways sometimes, and sometimes you end up throwing punches with a choom twice your size. v knows damn well she doesn’t need saving, but thanks anyway. now, back to breakfast. if he’s hungry, she left him sausage, eggs, and pancakes. wasn’t up for a .c