how'd that work out for ya, dummy? [ap]

little boy blue starters / accepting.

                      There were often times when the arsonist’s words seemed to fly over the engineer’s head, and he’d nod and agree  irregardless of what they had said. This was not one of those times. He’d kept his attention on the other as they had browsed through the hardware for just the right sort of part he’d been searching for. However, the moment he turned his back to speak with the cashier something just so happened to make a rather loud shattering noise in the distance. 

A brief moment a of shoulder-retracting cringe reeled through the Engineer’s body, pursing his lips as he dug through his wallet, truly hoping that the commotion hadn’t been caused by his comrade. 

Sudden taps to his shoulder gave Dell cause to jump in response, and he turned his head to listen to the other’s frantic “we gotta go,” through the muffle of a filter. 

The Texan inhaled sharply, then gave an exasperated sigh. Lowering his voice, he leaned toward the pyro, gesturing for them to stay close. “I dunno what you did back there, but we’re gonna have to pay for it. I can’t lose out on another place for supplies.” 

     IT’S ONLY MILDLY DIFFICULT to re-accept the tool graciously. Ludwig will admit that he’s not quite used to working with others yet; teamwork is not a word in the medic’s dictionary, and hesitant collaboration tends to be a last resort in only the most extreme of conditions. It’s not on account of not trying, though… 

     Why try to kid himself. It’s entirely on account of not trying. Independence suits Ludwig more than anything, he’s found. Yet the fact remains – access to men of brilliance, men like Dell Conagher, was not something he ever had the luxury of until now.

     Though he responds to Engie’s firm reminder with a half-disgruntled huff, he does settle back into his chair. Collaboration is still a skill difficult to grasp in his few years at Mann Co. thus far, but it is nothing that he can’t learn and master in the coming months. He is still learning things about Dell Conagher, after all: about the way the younger man’s mind works, about what the twangy and strangely strung-together words the engineer often spouts might mean.

     It’s a work in progress. Not one that Ludwig is opposed to, however – not at all. He is learning Dell Conagher, and RED’s engineer is a man much more worth learning than many men out there are. He is interested, more so than he cares to let on, in casting off that self-sufficiency for a bit of a chance at creating something new with Engie.

     ❝ It’s reasonable. ❞  He can’t quite help turning his nose up a bit at Herr Conagher’s phrasing. But he does, at least, give the other man a nod before he sets the tool down and approaches again – this time with ungloved and bare hands.

     Admiring fingers press down against the cold palm of the gunslinger, delicately splaying the artificial hand’s fingers against the tabletop. He takes a moment to pause and to simply look.

     ❝ Remarkable craftsmanship, ❞  is softly mumbled as the doctor fiddles with the metal fingers at their knuckles. But it’s the last of moments wasted before Medic clears his throat, turning the engineer’s hand over with utmost care. He sets to examining the wires beneath the pads of his fingers now with much more caution than the sheer, unthinking intrigued consideration that had sent more than a few shocks down Herr Conagher’s arm. 

                            The gunslinger wasn’t exactly the way the engineer would have liked to have it, as far as innovative technology went. He’d love to have the sensation of touch in his fingers again- while it responded well to his nerves for movement, the lack of feeling left something to be desired. The elder discarded his typical gloves, and the silence that filled the air save for soft gliding of metal parts was deafening. How he could be so soft now after having sent him into a fit of pain was... interesting, to say the least.

... For now, he’d settle for having varying levels of pressure when it came to grip and movement. Perhaps touch wasn’t too far along the road from now.

Dell didn’t care too much for tooting his own horn. He was well aware of his capabilities, how he’d always been a bit over the usual intelligence that a man of his background seemed to have. Outside of the battlefield, he hardly went out of his way to use that to his advantage. It didn’t seem right, and mama didn’t raise him in a barn. (She raised him in the house next to the barn. The notes of praise that the medic sighed in the quiet of the lab didn’t go unnoticed. Even if he was a humble man. 

Gears clicked unwillingly as the hand was flipped 180º– not quite painfully, but definitely causing a change in the Texan’s demeanor, and urging an uncomfortable grimace onto his face. 

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