"I've got a place in mind for that, but it's in the up and better for sit-down. This way tonight," he tips his head to their right, leading them farther away from city center and the elevator.

A couple blocks down he realizes he's still got the Marked line down his throat, and scratches at it to make the fact that it's paint more obvious -- he might get some weird looks but at least they won't be turned away as if they're two subs.

The restaurant he stops at is a bbq joint, mostly pork and chicken options but lots of classic sides. Drake has absolutely no idea what style is it, having never lived in the south himself, just that they've actually got a smoker and he likes the food.

As always, Jesus can order whatever the hell he wants.