Freshly dressed and out of the shower, Roland made his way to acquire some food. Walking in a usual paced manor, with hands clasped behind his back, he hummed something almost silently to himself. These early moments in each day were pristine. The air was always cooler, fresh with dew and the aura of the place was clear as glass. Pardosa smiled faintly to himself, swimming in the small moment of solitary enjoyment. His pale face gentle yet harsh, his eyes bright yet cold; swept by swathes of light and dark as he walked alone to the cafeteria. He was an early riser, like most of the guardians. This allowed him to sit and eat in peace, having a well balanced breakfast while he reviewed pages in his journal. Bathed in a beams of light he held a piece of brown toast in one hand, while he fingered through self written pages. As if on cue while he wiped his hands and began to stand to get rid of the refuse, his device lit up with the formal order. A simple nod of acknowledgment towards it and scrolled down the screen to find the numbers. With whom was he to work this time?

He took note of each number. It was hard trying to memorize so much data, but he was nearly positive he knew who each of these people were. He cross referenced the notes he made and found himself right on most accounts. Of course the one number stood out like a sore thumb. He sucked crisp air behind his teeth and feigned a grin to no one. One Miss Celise Lelievre would be in the same troupe, which was always an interesting time. He wondered if she had his number memorized like he did hers. With a silent chuckle, he tucked his journal under his arm and began walking back to his domicile. He doubted it. 

Sitting in his room Pardosa switched which journal he used. Moving the one aside for another. The first colored white, the second black. As he tuned into the news, he took different notes on the situations as they developed. He sighed out his nostrils and sat back, chin resting on palm, with an absent finger taping on the desk. How much more information did they really have? How much more would they need? How much could he acquire? His tapping got more fervent, rising in beat and volume until it was a steady staccato. Slowly a hand of shimmering wispy white off to his side pulled his deep seated concentration away from himself. His trusted spirit making it's presence known to bring the young guardian back down to earth. The young man sighed and nodded, no need for words. The arm vanished behind him and Pardosa pushed his seat out, getting ready to leave. After changing into his all white outing gear and arming himself, he set on where to go. He had just enough time to grab one more coffee and show up fashionably late. 

Arriving at the hangar he made his way to the designated vehicle with the same paced confidence he did to breakfast; despite knowing this meal would not taste quite as good. On his approach he saw the large bodies of Ajax and Duke first, followed by Celise and Ulva. While the latter were much smaller than the first, they were distinctive to him in personality, as well as their relationship with each other. He seemed to have walked in on a conversation between the titans and Jomen. Deciding to steer clear of that he simply rounded the car and seated himself. As he sidled the large vehicle he spotted the last present member of the team. "Good morning, Mr Timberson." He offered as he sat down. While Pardosa had an interest in all the guardians around, Montero drew him in more. Few would have noticed these slight differences, the twitch oh his left eye on sight or the perhaps three extra questioned he's asked the man. But to Pardosa, it screamed attention. Of course after the short greeting, he didn't even look at him for a response. Can't come off as too involved can we?