[The "gift he sent". It's probably in reference to the alcohol, but in a way, isn't his presence here also a "gift" in a horrible way? Here he is, in all his monstrous splendor. Here comes red-eyed death, to celebrate life, from Silco with all his love.]
[The look of the place feels so nostalgic as to be deja vu - these men with their weapons and implants could easily be Fixers or fellows from a Syndicate. But there's one major difference, he thinks, as he eyes them down.]
[They're not even half as strong as a lowly Grade 7 Fixer. The surgeries they have in the City can make the one LILITH offers look like child's play. One man comes at him, brandishing a large knife - and in seconds, and a single swipe, that arm is rolling on the floor. Another man, another blink, a vivid spray of red, and another man is gone.]
[And so it goes. The guns are vaguely novel - the City has its rules when it comes to them, and they aren't something he is used to fighting against regularly - but what does he care, when his muscles thrum like a car motor and he can move like a lightening bolt to stab through a chest? What does a bullet matter, then?]
[He gives no thought to Silco, not now. He moves like he's a machine. It's as automated as anything.]
no subject
[The look of the place feels so nostalgic as to be deja vu - these men with their weapons and implants could easily be Fixers or fellows from a Syndicate. But there's one major difference, he thinks, as he eyes them down.]
[They're not even half as strong as a lowly Grade 7 Fixer. The surgeries they have in the City can make the one LILITH offers look like child's play. One man comes at him, brandishing a large knife - and in seconds, and a single swipe, that arm is rolling on the floor. Another man, another blink, a vivid spray of red, and another man is gone.]
[And so it goes. The guns are vaguely novel - the City has its rules when it comes to them, and they aren't something he is used to fighting against regularly - but what does he care, when his muscles thrum like a car motor and he can move like a lightening bolt to stab through a chest? What does a bullet matter, then?]
[He gives no thought to Silco, not now. He moves like he's a machine. It's as automated as anything.]