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"Well, hey, congrats or something." Whatever proclivities Finn had, he didn't want to know; but hell, at least one of them had something going on.

He was not, however, amused with sticking around to watch a shirtless Moon oggle himself, nor did he appreciate the phrasing, nor the fact that the booth was crowded. Jack gave him a dry look. "Your horny little mind wishes," he answered. "Go on ahead, Narcissus. Maybe I'll be lucky enough and you'll just die from staring so long."

Carefully Jack removed his coat, sleeve by sleeve, every action measured to avoid wrinkling it too much. Unlike Finn he did have a sleeves dark (and somewhat tight) gym shirt on underneath, revealing two things: arms that definitely had been involved in sports and a symbol on his right shoulder. Coat folded neatly, he set it aside and perused the products once more, ignoring Finn's vulgar display of nakedness.

(Any display of Finn's presence was vulgar, to be fair.)

"The lack of variety already dooms this experiment," he mused. Really, was this as Life lab thing he wasn't aware of? Were there compounds being tested? If there were, there was normally a waiver, but, well, Jack was slowly beginning to become aware of how sometimes safety protocol could be ignored.

Charlotte began to tap her pencil impatiently. This grew even more impatient at the side commentary and then again when the two currently in the booth just proceeded to have some sort of heartfelt conversation which would have been nice had they been more her type (after seeing Leon, there definitely wasn't much else left in the room of imagination zone in that division of abs).

She quietly pulled out a neat, silver box and began to reload her tranquilizer gun with darts. The box clearly said Elephant Tranquilizers, for emergency use only.

Ogling himself? Hardly. There was nothing to look at that Finn hadn't likely spent ages poring over in his own bedroom earlier. Did he think he was hot s**t? Absolutely, though even he would admit to perhaps being more pretty boy then handsome man, as much as it might have irked him to be so.

If he hadn't already been shirtless beneath the jacket, he probably wouldn't have bothered with taking a shirt off. At the moment that was a moot point, however.

"No fun, Jackie. Drinks tonight?" He asked, dropping the act as Jack seemed to be in a mood, and eyeing the bottle of old spice spray deodorant in his hand, noticing for the first time a Pokemon sticker attached. The thought that this might be some kind of Life experiment had crossed his mind but....

He sprayed across his chest and under each arm, wrinkling his nose slightly at a scent that just screamed cheap. He glanced at the posters for flexing, considered it, then opted not to bother. Cold gaze went back to the mirror, and with another smirk he blew a kiss to whoever might be behind it, though it was still only a guess, before gathering up his jacket and exiting, having to get way too up close and personal with Jack to do so.

Ripleys voice came just as he was leaving, and he gave the man a grin not matched by his eyes. "It's all s**t, but better then nothing I guess. How about some drinks later? I have a butler all lined up."

Finn almost immediately went down, collapsing in a limp heap on the floor.

He'd be more careful to work harder in the future. Or not since he'd have no idea what he was being punished for.

Maybe he was just secretly Zoo's Charlottes favorite.

A few seconds later, Ripley and Jack would also get tranq'ed because it was important a) to leave no evidence behind and b) that they were taking up prime real estate time that could have been left for other eligible males. Their bodies were quietly discarded next to the still unconscious Mark, who still had a Runic Dagger sticking out of his squash in his boxers.

Melvin was anything but unhygienic. He was pristine, immaculate, and prided himself on advocating personal hygiene to its highest standard. The other person who rivaled him was Dr. Stephan’s magical, perfect, sparking, wondrous teeth, and Simon’s overall appearance. These were the idols who set the bar on Deus Ex, and one Melvin only hoped to one day achieve. Because he prided himself on this, though it was more or less something that HAD to be done anyways, he was personally insulted when, after working in the labs, he came for something to eat (What time was it anyways? He lost track.) to have a machine insulting him that his B.O would peel paint.

Glaring at the booth, he then looked at the posters wallpapered all over it, boosting of taking advantage of free hygiene supplies and taking a look in the mirror. “Finally, someone actually did something about that.” He said to the booth, looking it over. There had been plenty of hunters he had to tell to dress better, to clean their jackets, hem holes, and to point out that bloodstained meant it was time to let a shirt go. Hygiene was just not accepted by some hunters as others, and he wished more people would take a comb to their hair and take a shower after spending a while out in the training fields. Now someone got around to making a booth giving them what they needed, for free (which was a key word here for many hunters), and to regard how they actually looked by looking at themselves in the mirror.

Wanting to check this out, he stepped in, and noticed that the selection did not provide a lot of the things that he felt a lot of people needed, like bars of soap. They did provide deodorant, and he looked at Axe, having bad memories of high school boys soaking themselves in the stuff. He picked up Old Spice, and then noticed the Mirror that told him he had to go shirtless.

“What?” He said, regarding the poster that showed flexing figures as if that was the appropriate way men put on deodorant. He then started to have a sneaky suspicion going on, and then looked around at the small size of the room, stepped out just to look at the booth, and walked back in. His eyes glanced around as if he could spot a camera, but he saw nothing. Was this someone’s Life testing project? He regarded the sticks, and they looked authentic enough, and Melvin did have a weak spot for free hygiene products (considering he went through so much). If he was going to get something for “free”, he knew he had to pay a fee of some sort. This mirror was that fee.

"Well, if it's for science.." Seeing as he felt it was for someone lab study.

While he was immaculate, he was wary of one thing, but – well, maybe it was time to get over that. He had seen spleeny of tattoos and weird scarring at his time in Deus that it shouldn’t matter in the end. He took off his glasses and set them on a small bench on the booth where the deodorants were set on, along with his jacket. Reaching down, he pulled off his sweater , showing a glimpse of a melting skull and something titled Razor’s Corpse, and pulled off his both the shirt and sweater in one go.

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Overall, he only have a slight muscle definition, and that was only because he sparred and worked out so that he would not be exhausted if he had to run during a mission. He was not a Sun and did not wield a massive weapon that required him to bulk up. He worked in the labs, and that was it. His chest was smooth, hairless, and lacked a tan (probably due to always being covered up).

Looking in the mirror, he fixed his fluffy blonde hair, and turned his neck to regard the spiraling, curling scar that spread out about his neck. Frowning, he looked himself over, then cracked his knuckles, and put his clothes back on. Flexing was for guys who wanted to kiss their shoulders and talk about their “guns”. He already owned a gun, and he felt it was a lot more impressive.

With that he left the booth.

Somewhere in Deus, a certain Mist hunter felt slightly more validated than usual.

Meanwhile, Jack earned himself 13 long dreamless hours, which quite frankly was more sleep than he had collectively for the past two days anyway. Thank you, Charlotte.

Maebe was too busy curled up on the floor trying not to burst into loud laughter at Charlotte's method of expediting the process. She would have judged both of the men with adequate scores, had she not been writhing in the agony of silent laughter.