Nick was the type of person who drew judgments on people pretty shortly after meeting them. It was hard not too, with how his brain worked; with a photographic memory, he remembered too much of first impressions, though sometimes they got lost and tangled up with the big ball of information in the back of his mind, something that was hard to distangle to get a piece of information he actually wanted, and sometimes spat out a pointless piece of information that was totally irrelevant to what was going on around him. That was why people had a tendency to think he had ADHD, or a very uncaring attitude depending on what was being said to him and what was flowing through his mind at that time. Because, he didn't ever purposefully ignore anyone, but sometimes it was just hard to concentrate on conversations for him. He totally cared, he sort of wore his heart on his sleeve, but it was just hard to show that sometimes.

This kid that was on the Quinjet first, he already liked him. The little quip he uttered as Nick was practically drooling over the control panel made him give a surprised chuckle, because he hadn't expected wit to be aboard this beautiful piece of flying machinery when he entered it. He watched him slide his hand against the wall of the Quinjet, glad to see maybe someone was as in-love with the Quinjet as he himself was, and smirked in reply to the sideways grin flashed at him. [i]Cute kid.[/i] He ignored the doors lowering, to say with his smirk not wavering, "Oh, I certainly won't damage this beauty."

His attention was ripped from the kid, though, when the doors finished lowering and someone else entered. He was used to his attention bouncing all over the place, anyway, so this wasn't anything new to him. He didn't mean too but he gaped at the newcomer. A mutant! He had hoped he wouldn't be the only mutant (for all he knew, the kid across from him was a mutant too), but [i]seeing[/i] one made a thrill go down his spine. He, personally, had his arms, thus his "tattoos," covered up by a light, red jacket. But, this guy, hotdamn, he couldn't hide those big, beautiful wings even if he wanted too. And big and beautiful Nick found them, totally. Before he could make a comment, because he was totally going to make a comment, a loud clang sounded in the Quinjet, making Nick jerk to attention and look for its source. 

Seemed like the kid beat him to it. Okay, yeah, Nick might have laughed when the kid called him "Lucifer," it was funny, okay? Oh, so the kid liked to design things? That much was obvious. Nick was beginning to get a Stark air from the kid as he kept rambling. It was something so Tony Stark, it was kind of eerie to see. Speaking of Stark, he wondered if the man would make an appearance at the Academy. He wanted to see him again, pester him like he did when Cap brought him to the Tower. He had enjoyed Stark's hyperactive personality when it came to his "toys" and he had fed off that energy, for sure. But Cap, ah, Cap. That was a man after Nick's heart. Too bad Nick was too young and not like Cap would be interested in him anyway. [i]Maybe if I had shaggy hair and a smokey eye gone wrong, he would be,[/i] he mused a bit bitterly to himself. He might be up there with Phil Coulson when it came to crushing on Captain America. Actually, he probably was.

He was pulled from his mind - ah, damn, he totally did get lost in his head, didn't he? Not unusual, he was used to it - when someone else was suddenly there. He glanced over at the kid and wing boy, before eyeing the looker that just stepped on board. [i]Well, hello.[/i] he thought with a smile and his smile only grew at the accent that came from the young man's mouth. Mind briefly forgetting about the amazing wings sat across from him, he straightened himself up in his seat. "Salut!" he greeted in French, his accent not nearly as thick as this guy's - Copen's, his brain provided - Danish accent, but still noticeable. "Nick. Nice to see another dashing fellow aboard this beautiful hunk of metal, Copen." he joked, and boy, beautiful hunk of metal indeed. He wanted to move in here. Like, seriously. He would totally sleep on this hard as Hell floor. Wait, wait, he hadn't even seen the Helicarrier yet. He might die. He might literally die from the sheer beauty and power of that beast in the sky. He had seen pictures but never the actual thing. He might swoon just thinking about it.

Nick had been, [i]again[/i] (this was common practice for the guy), in his thoughts when another newcomer came. And a very pretty newcomer. [i]Well, hello to you, too.[/i] Nick thought, licking his lips as he took in sight of the first female on the Quinjet. He was loving the diversity showing on this Quinjet. It was exciting for Nick, who had only been to his home place in Canada and NYC, and hadn't met very many people in between. Oh-ho, Copen was beating him to the punch of talking to the pretty female. Not that it bothered him. Seeing two equally pretty people talking was just fine by him. Like a little shit, he jumped in on the conversation, still. "Nick! Angel, a suiting name-" he paused and smirked a little as he finished in French, "pour une femme angelique." (for an angelic woman). he was [i]so damn cheesy[/i], someone save him from his own stupidity. "French, Canada. What up?" he almost cringed at his own change in tone. Was he smooth or was he not? Not, not for sure.

He was totally missing some drama and what dragged his attention back to it was when he heard a very unhappy, very thick Russian accent going through the Quinjet. He turned to see what was going on and [i]oh[/i], some serious drama. He hopped up to his feet, backpack bouncing against his back, and clapped his hands lightly. "Whoa, now, pretty sure Director Fury wouldn't be happy if one of the students was killed and got blood all over the upholstery. Shit is Hell to get out." he said, standing in the middle of the Quinjet and motioning at the seats. "Kid is a curious little thing, isn't he, Damon?" Nick asked, flashing the kid, as he kept deeming him in his head, a smirk before looking at Damon again. He moved a bit closer, blue eyes going to his wings. They were more in view since Damon was being an anti-social little shit and practically hiding in them. That totally didn't deter Nick though, whose mind was racing. "Seriously, though, if we don't touch, can we ask questions? 'Cause, those beauts, hou la la! And, I mean, if we [i]ask[/i] to touch, can we? Consent is very important, after all! Take notes, kid," he joked, and decided it was smart to sit on the other side of Damon. Though, he was respectful enough to not sit close enough to brush against his wing, but he did twist his body towards him, and lean forward, eyes flickering over the wing nearest him. "So, like, these puppies are pretty damn cool. Serieusement, I'd take the kid up on his offer to make some cool as shit wing blades. Wing blades!" even if he had been lost in his head, his subconscious had picked up on the conversation and was providing him with the information at random. With a toothy grin, he leaned around to point at the kid briefly and say, "I like you," before leaning back. With his excitement, his French accent was thicker, he had also barely noticed he had said a couple French words since he did that all the time, as he kept rambling. "[i]And[/i] free food, dude! Hey, if I help convince him, will you buy me lunch for a week, too?"