"Are you try'n to give me a goddamn heart attack? What if those cut out mid glide?" Sure they're amazing peices of tech- in their original form. No way that's the real pair, he can see the goddamn Bifrons logo from here and he don't trust that shit for anything if he can help it.

Or maybe he's just being paranoid. Who knows.

"Coulda broken your own damn fool neck. Jesus christ." Whiskey scrubs his bionic hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose as he lets his fear driven adrenaline roil down to a simmer. Caine's a good kid, really, solid soldier. Just.

Different. He's still getting used to all the quirks. "You at least wear'n some kinda saftey gear?"