A grey haired old man sits idly in one mostly empty row of seats. The green eyed senior skims through a notebook filled with meaningless lines and details, scanning repeatedly over a single page and occasionally scribbling something down with a pen found tucked into the back of the seat ahead of him. Those nearby can hear him muttering quietly to himself [color=39b54a]"Nothing near there, just dead has lines, cemented over room behind that junction box..."[/color] he rambles, scratching out a line of his own handwriting.
Brenner tucks the needlessly detailed notebook into a pocket of his beaten old jacket, dropping the pen into an adjacent seat before stretching his shoulders out, releasing a grizzly-like yawn. [color=39b54a]"Any idea how long it is until we land?"[/color] the man asks the nearest passenger to himself, eyeing a stewardess suspiciously.