Fairfax is looking much better. He's been able to obtain more consistent food that wasn't a dented can of beanos and a smattering of stimulants to keep himself moving and awake. Fuckin' Christ, he's had bagels. His cheeks look less gaunt, and the scars on his face have had time to close over. He's even shaved.

"I've been occupied. Did some thinking. Worked some jobs."

He can squeeze out a little more expressiveness than that. He gives her a small, crooked smile, although it looks more like a grimacing slash of teeth. He's a little out of practice, to say the least. As if realising it, he drops the smile quickly.

"It's... a lot." It's meant to be a dry remark, but it comes out more quieter than he'd intended it to.