[hr][center][h1][color=007236]Mahendra Huq Zalil[/color][/h1]
[img]http://st1.bollywoodlife.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/rkmog-top-5-mahatma-gandhi-portrayals-on-screen-png-92679.jpg[/img][/center]

[hr][center][Color=007236]Location:[/color] Second Deck (Personal Cabin) -> Second Deck (Staircase) 
[Color=007236]Skills:[/color] Social Cameleon[/center][hr]

The meal that the steward had brought him had been an enjoyement to eat. Really, it had filled a spot in him that he didn't think was that deep. The burning sensation that still clung to his stomach was perhaps partly to blame for it, but the pain was by now bareable thanks to a good rest and a healty meal like that. Mahendra was satisfied at least, and neatly placed the plate on a vacant tablespot for a maid or someone else to take it later. He himself was going to freshen himself up after his bed rest, his hair and moustache sticking out in odd angles and shapes while he did smell a bit iffy himself. 

One fresh scoop of water in his face, hair and certain other bodily parts later, Mahendra stepped out of his quarters which had served him so well and started walking towards the area around the stairs. As he walked, he noticed the sound of entertainment in the background of the more audible conversations going on around. Most of the passengers took little interest in the musicians and whatenot, and focused more on talking amongst themselves and gambling. Gambling, a concept Mahendra had born witness to in England during his stay there, but never really gotten a good understanding off. He was no stranger to taking risks to earn a quick buck, he was a trader's son after all. But to such an extent that people were willing to throw away their hard-earned money? 

Mahendra didn't say or project any of those thoughts outwards to the people around him however, and instead tried to casually slip into a conversation a small group of gentlemen were having around the stairs. He had a good idea that Lauren would be checking up on him sooner or later, and that probably meant she would pass those stairs. So he would wait for his kind and caring lady-friend there, while he joined in on a conversation about the intricate prospects of the future of cricket and the British Empire. The cricket was the main subject, however. 

[hr][center][h1][color=#255DB3]Richard Barker[/color][/h1]
[img]http://images.complex.com/complex/image/upload/t_article_image/pxv8ashdo6bwszyzi55g.gif[/img][/center]

[hr][center][Color=#255DB3]Location:[/color] Main Deck (Open Air Lounge)
[Color=#255DB3]Location:[/color] Observation, People-reading[/center][hr] 

Richard waited for Faye to join him on the Main Deck as he poked his nosy eyes around the deck, watching the varying group of people congregating there. It was like a subway going straight through the various ethnic quarters of New York, but with more Little Italy and Egypt, Greenpoint and Lapskaus Boulevard, and less Harlam and Chinatown. There weren't really anything sticking out to him as the deck was so varied from the beginning, but as he felt Faye join him, he saw something that caught his interest. A light-eyed man standing in the corner of the open air lounge, holding what looked like a journal. A journal that really didn't look like belonged in his hands. It was too femine for him, and in that time and age that meant two things; either he had taken it from someone else, or he was going down the other lane so to say. 

Richard's instincts placed his bet on the first horse in this case. 

[Color=#255DB3]"Do that, just be careful. I'll check out our friend with the journal."[/color] Richard said back to Faye as she went for the lone-cop routine, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and starting to fiddle with one without lighting it. [Color=#255DB3]"Call out if it gets hairy. Watch yourself, Faye."[/color] With that, Richard began calmly walking in the general direction of the Lady-Journal Man, hoping to get closer to him. Observe first, then go in.