The staring made Lack feel even more awkward. Fiddling with his fingers, he ducked his head and stared at his heavy boots. He'd always dressed that way. Well, apart from when he first started being a scientist and kept getting oil all over his nice clean shirts. Maybe he'd try to change the combats to something less hostile... jeans always worked. His beloved boots, however, would stay no matter what. The toes had steel caps. Good if he dropped something on his foot or really wanted to kick someone hard. Whilst part of his mind was being lax and thinking over the various things that had got him into the rather scary situation with the guard, another part was thinking over how he'd make his new ear, and more importantly, who'd be the one to fit it. The bathroom mirror thing was a joke, of course - the operation was not something he could be conscious for.
"Say, how old are those two mutants? The girls? No wonder they are off the rails if they're so young. The mind of a child going through puberty is effectively 'pruned' until they reach their late teens. Messing around with the heads of teenagers - all ethical arguments aside - is likely a bad idea, because of the process their brains go through during that time. And those brains belonging to, uh, mutants makes the situation fucked up beyond all recognition. Yeah, imagine, 'I hate you, mom, I wish you'd all just die!' from the mouth of a regular kid. Funny. From the mouth of one who can eviscerate you? Slightly less so."
He seemed a little calmer now when he was talking science rather than explaining why he should live. Funny, that. He shook his head, now making a list of what he could put in his letter to the head of this operation. Sheer incompetance seemed to be the dish of the day, and Lack wasn't happy. He was also pretty sure the guard was still suspicious about him. Hell, he would be suspicious of himself! He thought he'd better explain his clothes and pistol.
"You know, I'm a bit eccentric. They give you lessons on being an eccentric at university now, as soon as you go to study any discipline of science. You have to learn to cackle maniacally and yell, 'It lives! IT LIVES!' before they let you anywhere near test tubes and all that," he said, pokerfaced. Then, realising his little joke could get him even deeper, he cringed. "I joke. You're probably wondering why I'm dressed like I came off the street, right? You try getting oil stains out of nice white shirts. And blood. It's much cheaper just to wear more relaxed clothes. Also, when I was younger, a mutant broke into the labs I was working in, and there weren't many guards there. Being a fairly decent gunman, I snatched up the pistol of a fallen guard, but ended up used as the thing's personal chewtoy. After that, you tend to want to dress in sensible clothes and carry weapons. It's also why I'm... ahhh... on edge about a sudden fucking break in on the first day of my new job. Do they happen often?"
The explanation was all true, and he hoped that the guard believed him. He didn't seem so happy about the situation either, and that comforted the scientist. Evidently he didn't need to be listed in a strongly worded letter to the boss.
"So, what's your name? My 'R' stands for Rainer, but it's a stupid name. I've got a kid brother and sister, adopted. They call me Rainy because I always look grouchy, apparently. And ask me if I've done operations on the weather, and it's stupid and annoying and everyone picked on me because of it when I was a wee little thing. I generally go by Lack."
He was definitely more at ease now the gun was away and that the huge man had called him 'doctor' and answered his question without any discernible note of hostility. Still, Lack never seemed to shut up. Maybe he was just nervous underneath his somewhat collected, jokey demeanour. He wondered if he should start writing his letter down now, or maybe he could find another scientist as a witness to this inadequate protection of the place. He doubted it was the fault of the guards. There was, after all, a mutant gathering area, which smelt of danger to come. He really needed to get his hands on one of those anti-mutation guns. His mind suddenly sprang back to remember the angry young female doctor in the fight. He sincerely hoped she was okay. She didn't exactly look like she had much combat experience, and was right in the middle if the action rather than in a defensive position.