Welcome to Gaia! ::

Working with kids in his field was never easy for Luca, but it was why he found himself tucking into a well-spoken of comic shop early in the morning, not really certain what to expect. The man's face spoke of nostalgia and caution, in part because as a kid, he'd had fond memories of pouring over X-Men and Spawn on a near weekly basis; the other part was due to the fact that his stint in comics was a long time ago and quite frankly, the new generations scared him. He wasn't in the know. His knowledge of Pokemon was the first 151 and MAGIC only had the core game back when he knew anything about it at all. And if his time nerding out had taught him anything, it was that being ignorant was the biggest sin you could commit.

Sucking in air through his teeth, he glanced around the area, already overwhelmed with the scent of thumbed-over print paper and the lingering impression of the people who had come and gone before him. He didn't want to look anymore the sore thumb than he already did, wearing a plain white tee rather than fully covering or displaying his arm, and in hind sight...maybe he should have opted for covering. Please, no one ask who I'm cosplaying.

Pursing his lips, he picked his way around displays and tables, aiming for check out stand. If he could talk to the Token Gamer Girl™ or find the manager, he'd probably have a little better luck than blindly searching over titles and covers that were foreign to him (which, frankly, was about 95% of the store). Hands in his pockets, he looked more guilty than anything, eyes lifting to see just who he'd be dealing with today. It's for the kid, it's for the kid, it's for the kid, he reminded himself, the only mantra that kept him rooted there.

There was a sudden voice (probably not so sudden, but when you're that far in your own head, everything is jarring), tugging his pale gaze around to its origin. Lucas blinked, correcting his gaze slightly downwards before the man hopped on the counter, repressing an immediate smile - the guy was wearing an X-Men shirt and had some pretty swanky hair, which put him in Luca's good graces instantaneously. It was like the universe knew what he was up against and sent him a small token of comfort and encouragement.

The words that followed were rewarded with a brief, soft laugh, a guilty quality that said he'd hit that nail on the head remarkably fast and efficiently. "Uh, jeez, like..." high school was a long time ago, "...over a decade ago? Not so much by choice as by circumstance. No local comic book stores where I was."

Lucas chuckled, turning to fully face the other, finding the grin fixed on him to be infectious, starting to wear a lop-sided one of his own. "Believe it or not, I'm here on business, uh, research, as it were." Raising his good hand to scratch beneath his ponytail, he looked around at all the covers lining the walls, subtly shaking his head and exhaling softly. "I was hoping for some help in lore and understanding in the resurgence of the super hero movies," his eyes flit back to the man, "like Captain America, the Winter Soldier, Iron Man. You know, fellas with mechanical bits." Lowering his hand from his hair, he tapped his palm against his false arm, the sound vaguely tinny and solid. "Anyone got time for that here?"

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips, crooked and in good humor. "It was less growing up and more being grown up." He waved in a distant manner to the side. "In the service." Lucas left it there; life happened, s**t followed, and here he was. Better late than never, he supposed. "I only get my nerd on in nostalgia, the original PS and two somewhere, don't have much time to play. Comics, I snuck a read when my folks were shopping but uh, to date myself here, they were like a buck then and a lot simpler." He motioned to the man's shirt. "When the show was still new and movies weren't even considered yet."

The man's face brightening before the introduction was everything; Lucas swore in that moment he saw every kid's face on Christmas getting the gift they wanted most. This guy wasn't a nerd, he was a walking lorebook. And his name was -- ? "Cid? Like, Cid Highwind?" Lucas laughed softly under his breath, moving closer to the man and leaning slightly against one of the tables, crossing his arms over his chest. "Man, you were made for this job. 'm Lucas, here on behalf of a young Anthony, eight year old that lost his arm in an accident and wants to emulate his heroes." Pausing, he lifted both brows and shrugged. "Not against hearing about the ladies either - it takes all sorts and being armed with the knowledge before hand couldn't hurt."

Sebastian Stan? A hand lifted off his arm to briefly trace the outline of a mask over his own face. "That the clean cut soldier turned Tarzan guy? He's not bad. I'd insist on a shower, but not bad."

He was both parts sheepish and trying not to be, though Cid's manner of handling his awkwardness was an extreme relief. Lucas ended his failure of trying to contain his emotions with a self-depreciating grin, rubbing his good arm with his false hand. The continuation made him chuckle under his breath and shake his head subtly; no dating, no, he didn't have the time for movies, let alone that.

Right. Work. Lucas leaned in to squint at the figurine, arching one brow impressively high and glancing up at Cid from that position before leaning back again. He was finding it hard to not grin for five seconds with the man's quips. "That's -- that's really frickin' impressive though. No one questions it." He did an easy salute. "My life is a series of side quests these days. Not sure what I can do to help, but. Ya know. If I can." He shrugged and smiled. No harm in playing it forward, especially since Cid was helping him out considerably.

...though, he realized, perhaps belatedly, it might cost him. "That's a lot of hair I have to cut to pull that off," he mused out lout, not outright denying, but...not really agreeing yet, either. Lucas was pretty sure he was already too old for that but he would always honor a good deed.

"He actually didn't request this specifically, uh," he shifted his weight a little, head tilting to the side as though trying to jump-start the memory, "I always ask the kids what inspires them and he was pretty much glowing talking about super heroes. Comics, movies, games, I'm not sure there's a preference -- it's more to update my arsenal of knowledge. Make me better at my job, basically." He offered a rolling shrug and a boyish, humble smile; he could admit when he was out of his depth, and this was certainly such a thing. He wouldn't say it out loud, but man. Kids these days.

Scratching his bearded cheek, he gave the figurine another look - dubious, cautious as if the thing might shave him itself - nodding only slightly. He clearly had no idea what he could add to that topic. "I'll have to take your word for it." He had two settings in life - clean shaven and hair everywhere. If he could grow it out, he would; the Army made him appreciate it, at least.

The comment about being a costumed hero was completely unsurprising but still immensely amusing, tickling him. Lucas chuckled, daring to ask, "What's your favorite?" and adding on after, "You know, sometimes the quest givers are just eternally better and even if you save the world, you're still doing their bidding. I imagine that's your level." Wasn't there a joke about that? It's over 9000? Lucas, ignorant himself what that even meant, chose to keep it to himself.

Pushing himself off the table and following at a slower pace with his longer gait, he nodded at the brief glance. "Eight going on eighty, you know how kids are these days." At least, he assumed so. It wasn't just teens and young adults that liked this stuff, after all. His current escort quest was testament to that.

And then his step faltered, immediately glancing away with a cringed grin, the type that tries to hide the s**t they had just stepped in. "I uh...haven't really had the chance, with uh, moving and business stuff." His hands stuffed in his pockets again, his good and false shoulder alike lifted as if to hide him from Cid's certain scrutiny. "I've seen stuff online in passing but it's not really the content they play in planes and waiting rooms, you know?"

"You were -- really graceful about that answer." His grin hiked up on one side. "I meant, your favorite cosplay -- questions about favorite games have nearly had my head chewed off." Lucas rubbed his good arm, eyes a little distant while he mulled over those words. "I never understood that. I mean, these quest givers being all high level and capable but they ask you to do the most inane things 'cause they can't. Makes you think, huh?" Maybe that's what made a hero. Not like he'd know.

The stare, he could feel even if he wasn't looking at Cid, visibly flinching and playfully raising his arms to protect himself. "Okay, okay, Obi Wan!" He laughed softly as he peeked around an elbow, making sure the Laser Eyes Of Disapproval were not set to kill. "I'm a willing student. Just...kind of an ignorant one." And here they were, back to square one. At least he could admit it.

Lucas snorted softly and lowered his arms to a relaxed position, arching a single brow. That was more his territory. "I'm not a backwater hermit, I'll have you know. Yes, I have the goods, if not at home then at work and always available. Promise." He tried to hold onto his scoff, but the corners of his mouth refused to stay neutral, his smile flitting about the edges.