[ The history of the former D.C. area, up until the present day, is one of the few subjects on which Danse has ever been told to "stop being a nerd." The others include guns, about which his new acquaintance seems rather less enthused, and power armor, on which the jury is still out, but nonetheless, those visible questions on Arcade's face are not met with the kind of trepidation he might expect. Rather, Danse looks surprised and then downright hopeful.

Were it not for the wind and the more pressing matter of finding Arcade's glasses, he'd happily conduct a little cross-country information exchange right here, and then the latter issue neatly resolves itself. Kaidan had had a salient point that it's probably not a coincidence that people here seem to have an above-average level of martial competence, but Danse finds himself wondering somewhere in the back of his mind, evaluating Arcade's smile and wind-tousled hair, if there's a reason for there to be so many uncommonly handsome men around either.

But this hardly seems the time to be noticing these things, so he stows it away and gets up. ]

Can't say I blame you.

[ His smile is friendlier than his previously impassive expression might have given him credit for--though still faintly awkward, as infrequently as he does it. He inclines his head toward the garage, all the more ready to get back to a place where they can hold a decent conversation. ]

I'm Danse, by the way. I've known people from your neck of the woods before, but they've all had a pretty...specific perspective, so I sure wouldn't mind hearing more about what it's like.