Blake looks thoughtful, his hands pressing into the pockets of his jacket. It's moto-style, exactly something he would have had at home, but he's never quite felt its fit right, which is absurd considering his own mind made it up for him.

"Well, there's somethin' to be said for trainin' the mind, too, I guess," he finally says, smirking. He's not much for scientific research, but there's no time like the present to admit there's a lot of room to pick apart and use the magic of Abraxas if a person's determined to do so. (He's not unconvinced that Crane isn't determined himself to do exactly this.) "Could lend you a book if it's lack of options," Blake offers jokingly. He knows it's not about that, so he moves right along.

Stepping up to squint down at the target, he glances over his shoulder only briefly before leaving Jayden to emote in peace. "You expectin' trouble? Feel unsafe? Or just... lighter'n usual?" He recalls the weight of his gunbelt still, especially when his back hurts the most. Blake doesn't miss it, but he's nothing like the other GCPD folks so it makes sense he doesn't carry the typical peace officer rhetoric with him everywhere he goes.