Blake huffs, shaking his head. "Who, me? Fun? Never." But they know that's not true even if they both share the ability to self-deprecate like it's a bodily function. (God forbid they ever compete.)

There's a pause where Blake fusses, taking off his jacket in this much more clement-feeling atmosphere. It's held in the crook of his arm, an item he could be rid of with a little mental nudge but one he keeps despite himself. Some people don't want reality, but Blake can't let go.

"I'm pickin' up part-time stuff now. You know the guy that chipped me? Viktor? Said I'd help him with some stuff. Sure as shit can use the money, so I'll keep lookin'. Rent's a bitch and it's hard to bring someone home when you don't got proper furniture."