Re: Briar's Apartment; Reece and Briar
To be fair, though she may have been spared whiplash, Reece was not. He was already in his 'put your best face forward' mode, so he was smiling and attempting to dissuade Briar from immediate electrocution, but, if he could have been, he would have first been confused, then he would've sighed in relief. But, uh, because he had his mask on, so to speak, he just smiled wider and a little worried.—Briar stowed the baton and finally Reece felt he was allowed an expression of his relief at not dying. "Whew," he huffed dramatically. "You really had me worried there for a second, I have to say."
She was small, darker-skinned, with eyes like a doe, but, instead of accentuating her femininity like Cat did, this woman went for comfort or bagginess or... whatever. He didn't know what she was going for. Suffice it so say, they had... um, different personal styles. Reece was kind of a snob, but only because being a snob was rewarded at work. Still, he didn't say anything. He had come to a mechanic's shop. If she'd been painted up in couture, he would've been weirded out, if impressed.—He smiled, flushed and sheepish, when Briar told him her parents were assholes. "Can't say I didn't try," he said as they shook hands.
His own grip was just mediocre. It was a very... what's the word, purposeful thing. You didn't want to be too intimidating, but you didn't want limp fish syndrome either. Reece was a pro at establishing himself in the middle of the pack. He played at harmlessness. He laughed at 'fun paraphernalia,' because, he had no idea what that meant, but he assumed it meant bombs. Bómbs. Whatever.
Reece never really did much to hide his arm or his eye. Yes, he wanted to be part of the pack when it aided him, but standing apart had its own benefits. Plus, he wasn't going to go full on pirate for the rest of his years. His arm and hand were both hidden from view by jacket and glove, but his eye wasn't. It glowed a pulsate-blue that was subtle enough that it often went overlooked. Uh... I mean, normally. But, people weren't normally an inch away from him, staring into his eyes like they were modeling for the cover of a romance novel. He leaned back.
"What?" Confusion spread across youthful face until Briar's hand began twisting at his prosthetic arm. "Oh—" A little flustered, he flexed his fingers in the leather gloves in a miniature performance for the mechanic. She looked a little crazy and Reece didn't know if he should be worried about being electrocuted now, so she could knock him out and poke at his arm. He was going to pretend that wasn't a possibility for as long as he could. "It's—Well, it's my arm. Um, it's myoelectric." He assumed she knew what that meant, given her interest. "I was born without one, so they weren't sure it was going to work, but, um, yep." Fingers wriggled again. "Don't, uh, but don't try to turn it 360° because I still don't like it. No one wants to see the back of their elbow."