Nestil hummed a bit as he peered between the two newcomers to the bar. He crossed his arms over his chest and peered at Summer first, "Let me guess, one of em' girls who have a extraordinary sad life who just want to run away from it, probably a drifter. I mean just be judging your posture and your clothing." He turned his attention to Miles "Jobs? Wait, so you're a cut throat or what? Mercenary? Thief? I bet that ya' ain't looking to become a waiter in this joint that is for sure at least." He shook his head as he spun around a lap on the bar stool once again, spreading out his arms a bit in a "Weeeeeeeee!" manner. Like a child almost, he then spun half around to cross his arms over his chest - and peer at the two. Waiting a answer from either or neither of them.

He knew he kind off looked humorous, his torn and worn mechanic overall covering most of his body. Not that much of the dark grey surface was visible any more of the overall, just the collection of oil and grease spots covering it. And some dirt and sand of course, his welding goggles firmly attached just above the breathing mask covering his mouth. His hair not visible from under the makeshift hood he was wearing over his head. He clearly wasn't one looking for trouble but wouldn't mind teasing people around a bit.