Marco, on the other hand, had come to enjoy pissing contests like that. It was the kind of thing he did in bars with other guns-for-hire. Or on jobs. Or getting patched up. The fucked up things you'd seen during your time in the wastes were badges of honor, and the guy with the most fucked up story won a little more respect, at least until the next meeting, when new stories would be exchanged. It was dark humor, but in a world that had been nuked to hell and back, that was about the only kind there was left. Still, he wasn't there anymore, and that meant a return to more civilized talk, so he didn't continue.
"Somehow," he chuckled, shaking his head ruefully, "that doesn't surprise me. Always good to have a bunch of allies that feel varying degrees of obligation towards you." He didn't really stop to think about how cold that sounded. He didn't think he'd have married her for that, unless there was a war on. All bets were off in war.
"Hoverboards?" His eyes lit up at that. Oh yes, Tobias had just said a magic word. "Please tell me I can buy one somewhere." He still didn't touch anything, although he did look around again. Restraint was always a good idea when they might have some kind of supernuke in here.
He hesitated before commenting on how much faster the war would have gone with supertech like this. "It would've been more efficient, but all the whiny, bleeding heart idiots that got off on calling Jake a war criminal would've just been even whinier." It was pretty clear that Marco had a very distinct disgust for those sorts of people.