Altruism, he says. He shrugs his shoulders - true enough, he supposes. There isn't much benefit to himself for dragging a near dead android to his junkyard home, taking up his bedspace and bleeding all over his things, using up his few spare materials to tie and bandage the worst of the injuries and leaving him to keep watch atop the pipe. It's more of an inconvenience to him than anything else. The only possible benefit would be if the information he'd scanned from those devices was indeed accurate, if the name was the correct name and it was the same person in the end, and even if it was this man wasn't under any obligation to share it with him. Nobody owes anybody any favours. Everyone has to look out for themselves. It's a wonder why he bothers at all; he supposes, if there's even the slightest chance of knowing something ... but that has yet to be determined.
He hesitates - it's not exactly a warm invitation, and now that the man's at least conscious enough to retrieve his weapons and hold a conversation, he knows full well that fully revealing himself is unwise. He knows his appearance is more threatening than he intends to come across as (at least, in this particular situation anyway,) and just because his body is well protected, the stranger would know better than to shoot him anywhere but square in the middle of his forehead. He's seen him fight, he knows what he's capable of, even in that condition.
"... as you wish." But he also knows that staying hidden is only going to make the other more tense and uneasy, and therefore less inclined to reveal what was likely rather confidential information. It was risky, his analytics displaying in his HUD the likelihood of getting shot from sticking around compared to high-tailing it out of there, but if there's even a small chance, he knows he has to take it. He withdraws from the pipe's edge, idly drumming his metal fingers along the top as he braces himself for ... whatever it is that will happen, before resolving to just get it over and done with, and just be quick about protecting his head if need be.
His legs slide over the edge first, hands gripping the pipe as he slips down, as graceful and delicately as he can manage to try and lessen the vibration of metal on metal when he lands. He crouches first, hands closed in tight fists pressed against the ground, before he slowly rises to stand at full height, at least his profile now in full view. And he knows what must be the man's first impression of him - fitting that he lives in a junkyard, looking the way he does. Not at all like normal androids. Even the humans that walk around with cybernetic enhancements, they're not disfigured quite to the same extent. His eyes are the same amber yellow as the spinning LED on his temple when he turns to address the wounded man inside, though his expression softens when he speaks. He's not here to start another fight.
"I saw what happened." He doesn't dare move from that spot at the pipe's entrance, knowing any sudden moves and he's as good as dead, with no answers. "You were holding your own rather well. You would've been the victor if not for their cheap tactics." He pauses, and ducks his head. "... I should've helped you. If I'd stepped in sooner, perhaps you wouldn't be wounded to such an extent. And I apologize for that."
no subject
He hesitates - it's not exactly a warm invitation, and now that the man's at least conscious enough to retrieve his weapons and hold a conversation, he knows full well that fully revealing himself is unwise. He knows his appearance is more threatening than he intends to come across as (at least, in this particular situation anyway,) and just because his body is well protected, the stranger would know better than to shoot him anywhere but square in the middle of his forehead. He's seen him fight, he knows what he's capable of, even in that condition.
"... as you wish." But he also knows that staying hidden is only going to make the other more tense and uneasy, and therefore less inclined to reveal what was likely rather confidential information. It was risky, his analytics displaying in his HUD the likelihood of getting shot from sticking around compared to high-tailing it out of there, but if there's even a small chance, he knows he has to take it. He withdraws from the pipe's edge, idly drumming his metal fingers along the top as he braces himself for ... whatever it is that will happen, before resolving to just get it over and done with, and just be quick about protecting his head if need be.
His legs slide over the edge first, hands gripping the pipe as he slips down, as graceful and delicately as he can manage to try and lessen the vibration of metal on metal when he lands. He crouches first, hands closed in tight fists pressed against the ground, before he slowly rises to stand at full height, at least his profile now in full view. And he knows what must be the man's first impression of him - fitting that he lives in a junkyard, looking the way he does. Not at all like normal androids. Even the humans that walk around with cybernetic enhancements, they're not disfigured quite to the same extent. His eyes are the same amber yellow as the spinning LED on his temple when he turns to address the wounded man inside, though his expression softens when he speaks. He's not here to start another fight.
"I saw what happened." He doesn't dare move from that spot at the pipe's entrance, knowing any sudden moves and he's as good as dead, with no answers. "You were holding your own rather well. You would've been the victor if not for their cheap tactics." He pauses, and ducks his head. "... I should've helped you. If I'd stepped in sooner, perhaps you wouldn't be wounded to such an extent. And I apologize for that."