[It was the coat and the half-scarred face, of course. For some reason and especially in the Undercity, that made someone look better with a firearm. It was interesting given how many used blades and any other weapon they could fashion from the scraps of industry.

He watched Jinx fish around, and he was not surprised when she pulled out bullets for the revolvers. He swallowed his discomfort and picked up the revolver again, thumbing out the revolving cylinder so he could slot in the bullets himself. He gave the cylinder a little spin before pushing it back into place.

In his mind's eye, he was repeating his missed shot on the sister. So close yet so far to silencing that one. There were far too many failed attempts for his liking.]

Is that so? There have been that many people who crossed you, or just the usual suspects who have put you in a mood for making them remember who you are?

[He wasn't opposed to a killing spree, but he also was wise to how that would come across.]

If you're going to do it, don't make a big scene. Keep it quiet but enjoy it.