Connor can't see the badge unless the breeze flips Steve's shirt back, but he can tentatively guess at the gun from the way the fabric hangs over the man's hip. For himself, he's clearly not packing, if the hang of his jacket is any indication.
Something else Steve might notice? For all the layers Connor is wearing, the synthetic and likely non-breathing materials his jacket is made of, he's not sweating in the least, or flushed at all. He's as pale as someone in a cool, autumn afternoon.
Connor's eyes darken, troubled, by the location he's given. He nods as his gaze falls away a bit. "I'm familiar, though I don't understand how that could be. I was in Detroit, Michigan, just a moment ago." He gives a slight headtilt at the rest, blinking as he processes the qeustion, LED still swirling but settling to blue now that he has someone to help him. "As I said, I was in Detroit a moment ago. As for when . . . it's November 6th, 2038." He looks at the man before him, not at all sure what to make of that. "Why?"
no subject
Something else Steve might notice? For all the layers Connor is wearing, the synthetic and likely non-breathing materials his jacket is made of, he's not sweating in the least, or flushed at all. He's as pale as someone in a cool, autumn afternoon.
Connor's eyes darken, troubled, by the location he's given. He nods as his gaze falls away a bit. "I'm familiar, though I don't understand how that could be. I was in Detroit, Michigan, just a moment ago." He gives a slight headtilt at the rest, blinking as he processes the qeustion, LED still swirling but settling to blue now that he has someone to help him. "As I said, I was in Detroit a moment ago. As for when . . . it's November 6th, 2038." He looks at the man before him, not at all sure what to make of that. "Why?"