Reece laughed a bit at the mans statement, "Just another battle-scar, my friend." Although if he were being honest, it'd probably be the only scar he'd gotten since childhood. Of all places to get one too, it just had to be his forehead. So much for his stunning good looks. He puffed up a bit, well as much as he could, when the man commented on his choice of wear. "Well it is some of the best from the D'angelo line. Custom ordered." He held the collar of the jacket, as if showing of a fine piece of art. To a more common person it was just another suit, but to those well educated it was a display of good fashion, not to mention good fortune. Reece had a feeling he was going to get along with this guy. Taking the bottle back placed on the ground beside him. "Reece Davies, pleasure," He spoke with a clear sense of superiority. Turning to face the girl he gave a slightly perplexed look, "That's right, you never did give me [i]your][/i] name, girl." He cut off her little monologue with the statement. Reece didn't want to hear about their prospects of rescue just yet. It was just depressing, and they had enough of that going on around them as it was. When things had calmed down a bit, then maybe they could worry about things like that.