Her mouth moued up at that, confused written very plainly across her face as hard resin teeth worried the synthetic-skin of Sinthia's lip, though no blood rushed in to make it look redder, the layers of expertly applied paint the same as always. "Sometimes, yes. I don't...usually buy things," she says, though the food she'd handed him would certainly express the frequency of her doing just that. She rarely bought things for herself, preferring to find them in out-of-the-way places--like the tiny damaged robot she was holding between one arm and her ribs. It was round-bodied, one of the ubiquitous universal remotes sold for home use that were capable of learning the commands their owners gave, albeit slowly. It had a damaged sensor wing and eye, and one missing foot, making it immobile.

But it was cute, and Sinthia had picked it up earlier, having felt a little bad for the discarded robot. Shifting her arm to support it and straighten up, she glanced between Amery and his arm, trying to gauge the response she would get from the offer she wanted to make. "If you'll come with me I can fix it." She knew how--there was no way after being awake for so many of her own retrofits that she wouldn't know her way around basic anatomy, given she'd been trying for so long to be real herself--and as fairly confident in her rudimentary ability to fix miniature pneumatics and synthetic skin.

"If you want it fixed."