[Did he care? Did he not? The Contractor she'd once been wouldn't know at all. Now, the memories and experiences of a Regressor are still fresh enough that Havoc almost thinks that she could guess. But it wasn't worthwhile to bother just yet, when she could just hum, nodding a bit thoughtfully.]

I always did think that people who lived in those places might not be the fondest of it... Imagine just trying to go to the grocery store and having to fight through a bus tour...

[Things that would happen in a world like they came from, right? Somewhere far from this strange one, something more familiar. Maybe she would guess...

When he looks her in the eyes, speaking harshly and dismissively, intentionally throwing the thing she'd insinuated lightly might be inappropriate down between them (or rather, in his hand)... Havoc ("Carmine") doesn't flinch or back down. In fact, it might just be the slightest bit off, how easily she accepts the somewhat intimidating look of a man who, even with just one arm, looked fully capable of beating her to a pulp.

But after a long, silent moment...]

Mmmm. Hold on.

[Carefully, she sets down her heavy bag and the bundle of fabric in her hands, straightening back up to gently take the lighter from his hand, slightly awkward around the two splinted fingers. Too smooth with the motion to not be experienced with it, she flicks the flame back to life and cups it protectively in a half-curled hand to protect it from the wind, offering it up for the end of his cigarette.]

I guess lung cancer isn't a problem if we're all just shards now...