[Adam glances around at the sound, attention lingering on the man for a few extra seconds. "Grizzled" is the first word that comes to mind when he sees the guy, eyepatch and all– military, without a doubt. Starting to run into a lot of those.]
Apparently, yeah. [His tone's dry, if not especially annoyed-sounding (or especially full of any emotion at all, really.) Not a hundred percent sold on the job as a whole yet, if it isn't obvious; honestly, he's feeling a little underutilized, a bit like the Six Million Dollar Inventory Guy. At least it's quiet– or it would be if people weren't constantly coming in here looking for their missing stuff.
Adam cocks a brow at the latest of these visitors.] Let me guess– you're looking for something?
[He indicates the pile of crap in front of him with a wave of one cyberarm. At one point, it might've been organized by "sorted" and "not-sorted," but the people that've come before to pick through and reclaim lost possessions have seen to that.]
no subject
Apparently, yeah. [His tone's dry, if not especially annoyed-sounding (or especially full of any emotion at all, really.) Not a hundred percent sold on the job as a whole yet, if it isn't obvious; honestly, he's feeling a little underutilized, a bit like the Six Million Dollar Inventory Guy. At least it's quiet– or it would be if people weren't constantly coming in here looking for their missing stuff.
Adam cocks a brow at the latest of these visitors.] Let me guess– you're looking for something?
[He indicates the pile of crap in front of him with a wave of one cyberarm. At one point, it might've been organized by "sorted" and "not-sorted," but the people that've come before to pick through and reclaim lost possessions have seen to that.]