Sure enough, Antoine wove his way through the familiar hallways and corridors to make it to the auditorium before any speeches had began. That meant he was still early, by technical definition, which worked out perfectly: It meant he got to enjoy the forest!

He poked a nearby tree as he walked over to the crowds, grinning as his hand sunk through the holographic trunk. Never could do that back on earth, now could you? He poked his hand through again and grinned all-the-wider, skirting the edges of the crowds and keeping his back to the auditorium wall.

 Even from there, he soon-to-be speaker was visible. Ms. Larson if he was remembering the correct sleeper file. A soldier... like many it seemed, the familiar gait, bearing and mannerisms of the disciplined militant standing out amongst the various peoples that passed under his eyes. On the topic, it seemed military history had appeared quite a bit in the sleeper files, more than typical in a cycle, perhaps?

Was that an intentional decision, what with what happened before?

Or maybe not. Antoine poked a tree once more because he could, and shrugged off any further contemplation on the subject. Things were going to get... interesting enough, without trying to feel concerned, so why try to feel concerned? It was all past, and while there'd certainly be some suspicions, fears and likely false accusations, in the end nothing serious would come of the talk they were about to hear.

Which was good for more reasons than one... and anything good for more reasons than one was not something that ever had to be worried about.

With that bright thought in mind, the medtech moved to lean against the wall at the edge of the 'forest' when a sudden, sharp series of pains caused him to jump. They started as simple tugs up dark khaki pants, but then drove through the thin fabric of his light-blue buttondown inciting a desire to shout that he skillfully drove down. Too many years spent admonishing battlefield patients on crying over 'minor' wounds to act pained today, it'd be hypocritical.

No, instead Antoine jumped, flinched, then cast a sidelong look towards his shoulder, now occupied by a rather pleased-looking Bengal. 

"And hello again, Mowzer." He reached up to scratch his pet under the chin, rewarded by a yowl and nip at his ear from the cat. He took it all in stride, Mowzer apparently deciding that was punishment enough, and accepting the scritches as he settled down on Antoine's shoulder. Front paws reached down to dig into the fabric over his upper chest, back paws fell back to rest just over the shoulder blades, and everything in between rumbled with a contented purr.

Well, his cat had found him again, as expected.

"Quiet down now, shhhhh." He moved his scritches up to behind Mowzer's ear, the cat purring only louder in rebellion. At least one ear was still clear to listen it, which would have to be enough.

Quiet apologies to the madam speaker, but Mowzer demanded [i]slightly[/i] more attention, even now.