The moment his eyes caught view of the genuine wood paneling he couldn't restrain himself from expressing what was on his mind. "A very Libertonian design choice." There was the unspoken symbolism behind him seeming to deliberately tread over the rug riddled with symbols endemic to the Outcasts. One key thing stood out from his end however. He didn't seem impressed. There was nothing technologically marvelous that would force him to start taking notes. No grand revelations in terms of design or ergonomics. Just a spectrum of opulence he was all too familiar with and felt was drab on account of the overexposure.
"Think this place would feel more lively with an actual crew. You probably go insane from isolation on a long-haul especially between Ouray and Malta." He was almost curious how she managed. He was well aware of people's tendencies and quirks, especially his own. Violence and conflict were routine, and if those two were removed for long enough he was almost certain he'd start to unravel. Even with their relatively inhuman behavior, it was clear to him that the Outcasts were still subject to human nuances. It was why they still cared for art and expression. So what made his acquaintance tick?
