[ It's impossible not to hear the laughter in that sound. The contempt there. Ephemera goes very still. Smiles.

Lets it bleed into his voice. Sharp and cruel. ]

I bet it hurts when you swallow. I bet it really fucking hurt where he shot you.

[ He stands. Tips his head back, watching Maine. Doesn't reach for his weapons, though he wants to. He really fucking wants to. ]

We got an understanding, me and Washington. But you insult them, any of them, you so much as think their names, I'l set you on fire and cook you inside your pretty armor, Freelancer. And believe me, that'll hurt more.