[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b]The Infirmary --> Tristan's Quarters[/b][/i][/h1][/center][hr]

	Tristan scoffed slightly but he made his way towards the elevator nonetheless. He wanted to put Fisher into his place, right through a wall, but he was thinking better on the entire idea right then. He had plans in the works and he wasn't about to let this little security man or anyone else get in his way. He had things to do, as long as he was in his quarters he knew he would be fine for the time being. 

	It was odd that Tristan remained quiet through out the entire ride up to his room and even as Fisher locked the door and over ride the code, still there was no yelling. Tristan might be a T1 but it was clear the man had no idea how to cover up that he was up to something. The dramatic shift in personality would have been clear to a blind person. To Fisher it would have sent off red flag after red flag with alarms blaring in his head. 	

	Sad thing was though, as much as Tristan sucked at not letting on that he was up to something or wanted something he was very good at covering his tracks. Maybe what people said was true, when one sense is dulled the others sharpen. Maybe that was why in this case. Either way, Tristan was now in his room and things were quiet, too quiet. Like when suddenly a pair of toddlers you hear playing in the next room go silent. One of those "fuck..." moments. Do you poke your head in or not?
[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b]The Commissary[/b][/i][/h1][/center][hr]

	Marx shrugged his shoulders lightly as Tryke didn't take his arm, some girls liked it and some didn't. He was just glad that she didn't deck him, more than once had Silvia sent him flying across the floor for even attempting to be a gentleman with her. Granted Silvia was a special case, she just wasn't like most people but that was obvious to anyone that had been around the silver streaked woman for more than five minutes. 

	Stepping into the place he looked around and grabbed a tray, piling it up high before taking a seat and looking over towards Tryke, smiling a bit as he did. "Anything really. I might be a here a while, so like to get to know people that I will be working around. And to put it bluntly, anyone in this tower perks my interest because of Silvia. I want to know who could be of help to her and who could hurt her. Big brother syndrome as it were," he stated rather bluntly. 

	Leaning back he rolled his shoulders, before slipping off his gloves and then taking off his jacket. Beneath it lay a rather interesting sight. His right arm was completely replaced from the shoulder down as well as part of his chest. It showed clearly thanks to the tank top he wore beneath the coat. It was obvious that the [url=http://orig15.deviantart.net/a607/f/2013/178/2/c/2c1185dfa7956f855ffcaf15df9ef8f8-d6avek1.jpg]replacement[/url](1st one) arm was nothing of the GTC, it looked customed made. It was rougher looking than those given out by GTC in the infirmaries but it was clearly well made. Marx shoved his gloves into the coat pocket before laying the coat down over his lap and smiling over towards Tryke. 

	"So, how do you like the work here? I mean, besides dealing with Tristan; I hear he can be a real ass," he said as he picked up his fork and started chowing down on the food in front of him.