"Emprah's balls, what a motley crew." The last of Geld's cup tasted even worse than the first sip, an achievement in chemistry not easily replicated. He slammed the empty glass upside-down on the table and rubbed the back of his neck while quite unashamedly staring at the others et the table. Truth is, his memory was quite bad, and this was a way to etch these faces somewhere in the drug-damaged walls of whatever was left of his brain. He didn't want to accidentally shoot one of them. Not yet, anyways. "At least our benefactor seems to have a point for balance and punctuality."<br/><br/>His stare ends up hanging from the guards girl's lho stick. Emprah's golden bell-clapper, it was so long since he has one of those that didn't smell of machine oil.