[ alex waits to enter the hall until the orientation has already been in progress for several minutes, slipping in silently and keeping to the back out of sight. he remains standing for the entire presentation, and while at first glance he doesn't appear to react much to the information provided, keen eyed observers might notice a tenseness to his posture, a stillness to his expression that is anything but peaceful.
about halfway through he pulls out a small notepad from his back pocket and flicks through a few pages until he finds a clean one (on one page, a rough sketch of a bike with lines drawn to various places, the words 'ejector' and 'magnesium' just barely visible; on another, just the word 'EXOCET'; a partially written grocery list with the vegetables crossed out and several question marks drawn next to them).
he begins to take notes.
as he writes, seeming to focus most heavily on the false memories and cryogenics portions of the orientation, he mutters a bit under his breath. ] What sort of range would it... transmission... tower or underground... computer records...
wildcard.
[ catch alex riding around town on his bicycle in a seemingly aimless pattern that is actually more in line with a structured grid pattern, or walking a similar path with a gameboy in his hands and a slightly dopey looking black cat following sedately at his heels.
for anyone that remembers his time in the hospital, his limp from appears to have completely healed, but there are fresh bandages wrapped somewhat messily around his fingertips and a yellow bruise blooming across his right cheek. he doesn't bother to give anything other than a distracted nod to anyone he recognizes as he passes, but everyone knows, a polite boy like alex, he's always willing to stop and chat if approached. ]
alex rider | open for business
[ alex waits to enter the hall until the orientation has already been in progress for several minutes, slipping in silently and keeping to the back out of sight. he remains standing for the entire presentation, and while at first glance he doesn't appear to react much to the information provided, keen eyed observers might notice a tenseness to his posture, a stillness to his expression that is anything but peaceful.
about halfway through he pulls out a small notepad from his back pocket and flicks through a few pages until he finds a clean one (on one page, a rough sketch of a bike with lines drawn to various places, the words 'ejector' and 'magnesium' just barely visible; on another, just the word 'EXOCET'; a partially written grocery list with the vegetables crossed out and several question marks drawn next to them).
he begins to take notes.
as he writes, seeming to focus most heavily on the false memories and cryogenics portions of the orientation, he mutters a bit under his breath. ] What sort of range would it... transmission... tower or underground... computer records...
wildcard.
[ catch alex riding around town on his bicycle in a seemingly aimless pattern that is actually more in line with a structured grid pattern, or walking a similar path with a gameboy in his hands and a slightly dopey looking black cat following sedately at his heels.
for anyone that remembers his time in the hospital, his limp from appears to have completely healed, but there are fresh bandages wrapped somewhat messily around his fingertips and a yellow bruise blooming across his right cheek. he doesn't bother to give anything other than a distracted nod to anyone he recognizes as he passes, but everyone knows, a polite boy like alex, he's always willing to stop and chat if approached. ]