The Clockwork Man was not alarmed when the human suddenly jumped down to sit beside him. He didn’t even turn, though he was fairly confident he could draw the pistol with his right hand if necessary, and the human had decided to sit on his left. As an added precaution, he continued his magical analysis of his potential enemy’s equipment with his Technomancy, though he didn’t probe too far, there was no reason to seem hostile.

“Greystoke?” The Clockwork Man asked half quizzically, though with many of his verbalised questions it was mostly a question for himself. The Automaton turned his head when the human moved and seized the offered hand, the action bringing up a host of memories he thought were long dead. His grip was firm, but he shook quickly and returned his hand to rest upon the plane wing.

“Mr.Clockwork.” He told him in return for the offered information, though he did not so quickly offer an answer to the man’s question. Turning back to regard the wasteland, and the setting sun, he allowed a few moments to pass by in silence. The slight breeze tugged at the corners of his Victorian age jacket, and whipped the bottoms of his new black trousers. Underneath only cool metal remained, unperturbed by the elements around it. The Clockwork Man was dead to the outside world, and to the sensations he once loved.

Finally, he decided to lay down the very basics, deciding it was the least he could do for someone in need, it wouldn’t do him any harm after all.

“This world is connected to a focal point known as the Nexus. Somewhere, the indigenous people may know where, is a one-way portal off this planet.” He spoke confidently, though distractedly, his attention more focused on the ship and the spider below.