"..he's terrifying." That was about the only thing you could think of. Having been found on the streets by desperado grunt who then dragged you kicking and screaming over to Armstrong who'd been in the area. He'd in turn, dragged you into a couple vehicles before eventually landing you a seat at his kitchen counter where he stood working at the stove. Eventually turning around and shoving a plate of omelets in your direction with an under the breath comment of: "Christ, kid. You're scrawny."