Bernadette raises a brow, hand leaving his face only to take part in act of folding her arms over her chest.
"What scientist performed that experiment and exactly how did he do it? I can’t imagine a man of science going up to twenty to thirty different test subjects and asking to lick them." She laughed at her horrendously stupid joke before it was cut short by Neo’s statement.
"…I…well my mom has this sort of ability…that I inherited." She began, moving her weight from her left foot to the right.
"She can read faces. Like-like she can look at someone and tell if they have a good or bad spirit. And I can tell that when I look at you…that you’ve got a pretty nice spirit." Bernadette smiled, hoping she wasn’t making this sound romantic or anything creepy like that.
"Just because you’ve made some bad decisions in your life doesn’t necessarily make you a bad person. Everyone’s done something terrible in their lifetime-even the purest of people."
There’s something comforting in the way she talks, in the way she weaves her words and creates sentences. Though the bases of her statements are flimsy at best, it’s… nice, in a way that Neo associates with hot chocolate and hand holding and sharing sweaters, and though corny as hell, he appreciates the attempt. What he doesn’t appreciate is how quickly this has turned into a pseudo-discussion of his inner demons after one measly joke about serial killers (and… all right, maybe joking about murder isn’t so easy-going, but Neo’s got a terrible sense of humour).
“You’re making me feel like an angel,” he says, obvious joking in his tone, but the meaning of her explanation doesn’t lose itself on him. “But, ah… thanks. I guess. Glad my spirit doesn’t make you think of rotting eggs.”
He clears his throat, a little uncomfortable with the fact that he’d had to be given a positive pep talk so early into their first meeting, and then, almost awkwardly (Neo doesn’t think he’s ever been awkward before), he scratches at the back of his head. “I’m Neo, by the way. Neo Roanoke. Hi.” He holds his other hand with a small smile.
“No psychic powers here or anything, but you seem pretty sunshine-y, yourself.”