[He looks over with an owlish expression behind black-rimmed glasses, which he adjusts with a quick shove on the bridge; kind of an anomaly of a standard scientist, this little dude, with his stompy Doc Martens and jewelry and obvious tattoos peaking out from his neckline and jacket cuffs, and while he's not remotely subtle himself, he's too busy being invested in studying the gun like a student being taught proper gun anatomy.]

I'm not really that well-versed on old-timey guns or anything like that; most of my armament work was... y'know. Giant robots. Totally different beasts! But I can appreciate the classics. Can't have a I-19 Plasmacaster without the O.G's!

[He loves the I-19 Plasmacaster. He'd smooch it if he could. Mwah. Chef's kiss.

But at the mention of lethality, he shrinks back, glancing to the taser in his hand with a frown.]

Ahhhh, no, no — this is fine. I'm — this is good. I don't really trust myself with anything too dangerous right now. I just want something that I can use if I absolutely gotta. Just. Y'know. A little. lovebite.

[He makes a zap noise that rattles between his teeth, gesturing at the air with the taser.]