Back having been facing her, he wasn’t even sure if she was speaking to him, the tone too casual for a Diamond City regular and too up front for someone not used to a generation two walking freely, playing human. But he stopped nonetheless, head half tilted to signal that he was listening, if she were to go on.
“ Nasty habit, ” he commented lightly as though he had any room to talk on the matter. At least he didn’t have real lungs to blacken–
Nick turned, the brim of his hat casting sharp shadows over his face, eyes lit and peering. He had been told once his gaze was commanding, in a way that demanded sole focus ( he wondered if that was why so little actually could hold it for long ). His good hand lightly skimmed his pocket, pulling out a dented lighter. He hesitated, almost as though he were waiting for a change of mind on her part.
“ You take a clean gander at who you’re talking to here? ” the synth palmed the metal casing before offering it out with a raised brow, giving her fair distance and a choice on if she still wanted to take it. “ Still… got a light if you’re itching. ”
She taps the back of her pack firm against her palm, slipping out one of the sticks between her fingers. Gaze casts with a smirk at the comment, trailing up the man’s dirtied coat as he turned before being caught with...quite the sight. Eyes widen, surprised. A tad awed if one could describe it. She’s quick to note his eyes, glowing, sharp, before the tears in in flesh and the exposed metal and gadgets that lied beneath. The motion of finely tuned machinery. Something she always had some wonder in but never found much talent for.
The cigarette is slowly moved up towards her lips, but lingers there between her fingers. She had seen quite a bit of pre-war machinery in her time. Ruined mostly. The rare times something was functional was always a moment hanging in the air as to its purpose. This. Him. Now she was sure this was a whole different level.
“I have now, Bright Eyes. I’m looking at a proper gentleman.”
It’d be wrong to assume she wasn’t nervous. Maybe skeptical. But curious cat she was, there was nothing to gain from backing out of a good mystery. No, no. The Mojave could teach a few that if you found something unique, something out of place, you better make sure you weren’t wasting an opportunity. Risk was usually worth the reward.
Her tone is loose and relaxed and his comment managed to get a bit of a tug at her lips. Cleanly drawn brows quirk with intrigue. Nimble fingers reach over, taking the fire starter from his hand. The lid is flipped open, a couple clicks and a flicker of light. Finally, a bit of satisfaction from her trip. The lighter is offered back out to the synth, sitting square in her leather clad palm.
“Who can I thank for such rare generosity?”
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