The neon hum of the "Aether & Ore" tavern was the only thing louder than Jax’s nerves. In the dive bars of the Lower Rings, people didn't just hang out; they coalesced like oil on water.
"No? We’re both sitting in a basement, hiding from the same police, trying to keep a world from ending. If we're both flying toward the same sun, does it matter whose wings are real and whose are scrap metal?" [S1E2] Birds of a Feather
"You have the drive?" Kaelen whispered, leaning in. His eyes darted toward the door, where a pair of Enforcers were hassling a street vendor. The neon hum of the "Aether & Ore"
"Birds of a feather," Jax muttered, echoing an old proverb his grandfather used. "We aren't the same, Jax," Kaelen countered. people didn't just hang out