Oh, that's alright. If she concentrates hard enough, it's like she's at a very shitty barbecue. Nicotine braised meat with a side of paper pulp. Anyone want a shot of black ink, too?

She watches black-nailed hands fuss with his lighter, her expression sort of far away. Old friends, same habits. Same stupid lighters. Same lame party tricks.

"Thanks, I am. But— yeah, this stuff's way beyond my wheelhouse."

The only clowns she'd ever had the pleasure of meeting were those damn Reds and Blues. Idiots, all of them. The least they could have done was made her a balloon dog for her efforts.

"I guess you could call it a sci-fi space adventure. Grew up on Earth, Earth extended its reach far into the galaxy and before you could blink, war. We called them The Covenant. They were aliens, and not the nice green kind."