[He manages the first dry note of a laugh before it gets lost in a brief, stinging coughing fit. It doesn't matter — he can already picture it, even as he ducks his head into the crook of his elbow:

Drifter, meet Cuno. "Cuno doesn't give a fuck."

...God, he even misses Cuno.]

I like it. [He sniffs and gestures loosely in front of him.] Mysterious. Short, too. People tend to prefer it when you keep 'em short.

[He leans back, then. Takes a slow breath like he's considering asking something a little personal.]

Hey, uh... honest opinion? Which name d'you reckon suits — [A quick jerk back of his thumb] — all of this more: Harrier Du Bois or... Raphaël Ambrosius Costeau?