Spock looked up from his partially-eaten meal in time to see a soldier closing the door, leaving Gabriel behind. He gazed at him for a moment, noting that there were no new injuries, and returned his attention to his meal. That was not to say he was in perfect health, of course (there was still his experiment from several nights ago to consider), but there was no way for Spock to learn those sorts of details without Gabriel agreeing to speak more freely.
When his roommate said something, however, the Vulcan's gaze momentarily returned to him, and he raised his eyebrow. "Hardly," he answered. "Although it is true I am a military officer, we conduct ourselves in different ways. I would not have seen a need to unnecessarily hold onto your arm while escorting you to your quarters, for example."
As for what had transpired last shift to warrant such a drastic change, however, Spock was as uncertain as Gabriel. Yet, given what they already knew, assembling a reasonable theory was not difficult. "It would seem as though whoever came to inspect the institute is dissatisfied with the way Landel has been conducting himself."
Sylar raised an eyebrow as Spock delivered his counter with all the deadpan delivery of a trained comedian - and none of the humor. But... okay - fair. That was fair. Which just served to underline how even the damn soldiers would've been more interesting company at dinner than Sylar's current roommate was. How did Spock handle prisoners on his spaceship, then? Did he logic them into incarceration?
At the comment about Landel's conduct, Sylar snorted and raised both eyebrows.
"You can say that again." He pulled out his chair and fell into it, glancing at his plate of spaghetti before looking back to Spock. "Here I thought that the show they put on for us is company policy."
He frowned, his mind wandering back to the strange intercom announcements throughout the day and the sudden transparency with which Landel had handled the day's events. If anything, it'd seemed like Landel was covering up his usual antics for the sake of the inspection, which meant he was probably even more of an idiot lunatic than anyone had thought. Sure, Sylar could completely understand the fun in toying with people's lives and powers, but he was beyond sick of Landel's blunt, joyless torture... and all the irritation that it tended to bring.
Focusing back on Spock and the rigid way in which he sat, something else occurred to Sylar.
"If you are military," he ventured, leaning back in his chair, "you probably figured out more from watching them than I could. Anything... useful?"
When his roommate said something, however, the Vulcan's gaze momentarily returned to him, and he raised his eyebrow. "Hardly," he answered. "Although it is true I am a military officer, we conduct ourselves in different ways. I would not have seen a need to unnecessarily hold onto your arm while escorting you to your quarters, for example."
As for what had transpired last shift to warrant such a drastic change, however, Spock was as uncertain as Gabriel. Yet, given what they already knew, assembling a reasonable theory was not difficult. "It would seem as though whoever came to inspect the institute is dissatisfied with the way Landel has been conducting himself."
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At the comment about Landel's conduct, Sylar snorted and raised both eyebrows.
"You can say that again." He pulled out his chair and fell into it, glancing at his plate of spaghetti before looking back to Spock. "Here I thought that the show they put on for us is company policy."
He frowned, his mind wandering back to the strange intercom announcements throughout the day and the sudden transparency with which Landel had handled the day's events. If anything, it'd seemed like Landel was covering up his usual antics for the sake of the inspection, which meant he was probably even more of an idiot lunatic than anyone had thought. Sure, Sylar could completely understand the fun in toying with people's lives and powers, but he was beyond sick of Landel's blunt, joyless torture... and all the irritation that it tended to bring.
Focusing back on Spock and the rigid way in which he sat, something else occurred to Sylar.
"If you are military," he ventured, leaning back in his chair, "you probably figured out more from watching them than I could. Anything... useful?"
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