Jamez always carried around a bug so that his superiors at TOR would know constantly what he was doing and saying. Most would find it intrusive, but for some reason Jamez thought it was one of the most important of his gadgets. He liked to know that an ally would be at his death-and he was absolutely sure he was going to die while working for TOR.

But he wasn’t quite ready for that to happen quite yet, hence his strong attraction to his defense.

He felt lost without his gun. It felt like he was missing a limb. Or a piece of clothing. Or a major organ. To put it simply, Jamez just felt entirely bare and empty. He didn’t particularly like using his gun, but the fact that he always had it with him always seemed to comfort him during a potentially life-threatening situation.

Jamez stormed out of his hut, furious. He squinted in the bright light outside in the small street and faltered for a moment. He was thirsty. Hadn’t he just been thirsty a little while ago? Wait, what had happened? Oh yes, that’s right, he had fallen unconscious from dehydration. Right, and he had even comprehended this a moment before thinking that friendship did not spawn from encounters such as this one all that often.

Silly of him to have let it slip his mind.

One of the monks approached him and threw their hood off, revealing themselves to be the one that had greeted Jamez when he had first arrived. “Mr. Blak-”

“Ah, good, I wanted to speak to you,” Jamez responded.

“Yes well, you should-” the monk started, but was quickly interrupted by Jamez.

“No, don’t talk. I’m talking.”

“I see that, but-”

Jamez put his hands on the monk’s shoulders and leaned over him, “Who took my gun?”

“Well that was me, sir, but-”

The monk toppled over backwards, stunned by the sudden, intense blow that had just collided with his face. From the ground he gaped up at Jamez, who happened to be grinning as he looked at his own clenched fist.

“Huh,” he said cheerfully, “I don’t feel quite as bare anymore.”

“Well you should,” the monk said, frustrated.

“What do you mean?” Jamez asked, still sorta annoyed.

“You’re not wearing any clothes.”