[And there goes Nick's light smile, a tinge of ruefulness tainting it at Firo's tone. While he hasn't exactly set out to change opinions of him -- it just isn't Nick's style -- the synth can't help but be quietly frustrated to always have his attempts at geniality thrown back in his face, especially from the other person Rey claims as family in Hadriel. He gets it: there are just some things that are hard to reconcile, especially when one person has the memories of an old cop, and the other takes pride in dabbling in illegalities.

But he's not a cop any more than he's the real Nick Valentine, and moreover, they do have common ground, terrain they've tread before, someone they both care about and whose well-being they can agree on. Maybe one day, Nick thinks idly, they can have a normal conversation without the icy tone. He considers just going back out, not stirring the pot where he's not welcome (and he'd rather not cause problems for Rey when she gets in), but he already got sand in the doorway and will just bring in more if he opens it again. He can step out during a lull.

Until then, he does take a seat, his processor quietly whirring away as it tells him he needs to run a diagnostic. The sandstorm is doing him no favors.]

Not sandstorms, no. Closest thing we had back in the Commonwealth were radiation storms. Less sand and grit, but plenty else you had to worry about when those rolled into town.