Snippet #941683

After staring at the bold words for a moment, Cristov let the clip of paper waft to the floor with a sigh. There went his idea on analyzing the handwriting to discern what had truly happened, but then again, the paper would be good for his writing memoirs. Leaning over, it was quickly snatched from the air and sandwhiched between a pair of pages in his book. "I like Master Townsend better. You're going to be a scientist or something, aren't you? I'd like to think I'm rooming with the next head scientist that will lead us on to a great discovery and save our lives someday." Smile in place only for the sake of those comments, his expression sunk back into a serious demeanor, back stooping so he could hunch and rest fingertips on his chin; elbow on his knees.

"Why would she do that so soon? Not all of us here are the epitomy of jerks. Perhaps maybe she missed home too much. We're all likely to go through such happenstance at one point or another. I only yearn for my vast collection of books, though." Nodding along to what Cale had said, though, fingers curled back into the dip pen, urging to write it all down for further reference later. Did Cristov really need to scribble every last detail? No, but it made it feel more like they were playing a game of detectives together and made things more exciting. Cristov could easily empathize with the professional detachment. He, himself, was guilty of it on more than one occasion, especially earlier that morning. "I've analyzed you with the detachment of an analyst, but we've raided the same kingdoms and the secrets are ours now," he muttered with a hint of satisfaction.

The thought was shaken off quickly, though, with a shudder and fast shake of his head. "I agree. Let's do it. It can be our own, little pet project on the resident mystery. Afterall, if no one else is to notice, we might as well be ahead of the game. It gives us a dynamic edge that no one can fluster. At least, unless they get to Dr. Zhao first, which I highly doubt as America was our roommate afterall." With a shrug and wave of the hand, Cristov was on his feet, stuffing his three favorite items into his pockets and lacing the book into an arm. "If we leave now, we can ask and still make it in time for breakfast. No one'd notice we're missing, except other observers of course. Seems I'm not the only one to cast a keen eye on all who are aboard."