Makorai gave a respectful nod at their answers. Too early. Sounds like he was the sole career alcoholic on his team. Which suited him fine, someone had to keep a clear head in their Aett, and spirits knew it wasn't going to be him, sake and whiskey deep before ten pm. Dawn being a P.I suited her, from what Makorai could tell. She seemed reserved. Really looked at people, not like how others do the once over, but did that little bit of digging that investigators usually did. All through those beautiful pale eyes. 

He rested his hand between Amity's shoulder blades, and gave her a reassuring rub. He wasn't as percpetive as his counterpart, but he could relate to whatever it was she was feeling. He assumed it was loss. Or perhaps powerlessness. Either way, despite his flirtatious nature, it was a genuine gesture. Pain ran deep. It always did. 

[color=darkgoldenrod]"All good Amy."[/color] He winked, then quickly changed the subject back to his weapon. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Oh yeah, close, long, however you want it, I got it.[/color] He paused, then continued, a bit more seriously this time. [color=darkgoldenrod]I got your backs. If I can see it in my scope, I'll keep it off you all, and if it's about to eat me, well.[/color] He playfully mimicked a door being thrown in. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Between Dawn's Brain, Your Brawn, collective Beauty and my Booze..."[/color] He paused again, and nodded. 

[color=darkgoldenrod]Hey, not a bad team name. Brains, Brawn, Beauty and Booze."[/color] Boobs, and butt. but he wasn't going to say that out loud. Beauty was enough. 

Oren's reply elicited a smile, and a lighthearted shrug. [color=darkgoldenrod]Yeah, can't answer a question I wasn't asked gorgeous,
just thought I'd offer my two cents anyway."[/color]

He was just shy of another response, when Mr.Clean Cut & Healthy Eating popped in. There was a bit of a rush in his demeanor this time, but, the coif remained undisturbed. Amazing. 

What he said snapped Makorai out of his drunken, sarcastic haze, and into the temporary clarity some alcoholics felt when confronted with something serious. 

The North side. He had a lot of friends that clocked in on the North side, the kind of of working class folk that let him drink at the club because of one time or the other he lent a hand, or shot a warg

These green in the face recruits were expected to take on the Jotun? His light brown eyes quickly moved across the room, checking their reactions one by one. His entire joke had been a point he was making. Fighting one should be the last resort. These kids weren't ready. Not for the carnage at least. By the time they got down there, gristle would be the trendy new decoration on the block. 

[color=darkgoldenrod]"I don't care what anyone here says, including you."[/color] He turned to Clifton. [color=darkgoldenrod]"I know those people, you all do what you want, listen to whatever, I'm gone."[/color] He wasn't a hero, Makorai, or at least, he didn't look at himself as one. He was just good at shooting, and he'd lost enough people five years ago, and frankly, he was more scared of having to attend a funeral that wasn't his. 

[color=darkgoldenrod]"I'm leaving. I gotta make sure those folk get through. Meet me there yeah? I'll need you guys."[/color] He wasn't about to get anyone else killed for his stupidity, but he /knew/ he could get there faster by bike. He knew.

With a wave, and complete disregard for what anyone had to say, he walked out the door.