"Evie," Buck repeated with an instinctive snap that became a finger-gun gesture. It wasn't meant to be cool. It was just something he did without thinking whenever something clicked into place. A kinetic response. That was totally her name. It had been, well. Tip of the tongue and shit. But just as quickly, it didn't really matter. He backpedaled in the conversation with his own shrug.
"Whatever's clever. Just think you should be getting paid for being good at something." To be fair, Buck didn't have an overabundance of talents worth any money. He had been eleven when the Regiment swapped out his public school education for their own version, and he never really invested much in either system. He was good at talking shit and starting fights? But that wasn't a very marketable skill, even at eighteen. Not like solving math problems or writing fucking sonnets. Or turning the Danger Room gym into their own personal playground. Which was what Evie was clearly capable of doing.
There was that flicker in the room again. It wasn't enough for Buck to look Evie's way. Or maybe he was just trying not to give away that he noticed. He may have been Will McCall's son, but Buck wasn't dumb enough to miss when someone's powers were entangled with their emotions. He didn't really know about her recent vacation from Limbo. He'd heard about it in bits and pieces, but to be honest he hadn't really been paying attention. Even the fact that the party was essentially celebrating her return was lost on Buckley. But even without knowing all that, he was able to associate the flickering illusions with the topic of missions.
"Slim, huh," Buck murmured, almost an afterthought. It didn't faze him, of course. The talk of getting captured or killed didn't bother a boy who still felt invincible, more or less. Not because of his powers, but because he was young enough to think that death was a long, long way off. Like 45, maybe. If he knew just how real capture was for Evie, he might have taken the time to drum up something comforting. Or well, as comforting as Buck Kirby could be. Thankfully, she was spared that.
He moved. Not towards Evie, but towards her holographic robot. He didn't seem skittish around it, even as he leaned over to pick up the hammer. "How 'bout something different," Buck suggested, even as she flipped through geographical settings like some kind of immersive calendar. He gave the hammer a flip, then tapped the robot between its... robot eyes.
"Show me your favorite place. Even if you ain't been there before."