"Sounds like a plan." He replied "fair warning. My handwriting is shit and my English isn't much better." He fluttered his fingers on a phantom type writer. "Grew up a keyboard kid you see." He followed her to a few vacant seats at a window table. "It's just as well. I don't think they'll be doing much in this weather." He looked out at the falling white snow, already starting to flutter and whirl as the wind picked up. "We'll probably get a few inches tonight. I don't imagine they'll be doing much outside until they get it shoveled." He mused knowing that some of the Spartans of the lower ranks would probably be out there shoveling to for a few points. They weren't called Spartans as any form of praise. Really the joke was that, although the name referenced great warriors of the past, the Spartans of Brightwell lived in the spartan barracked of those ranked 800 or lower. Salt himself had only graduated from their ranks into the upper 800 at the end of the last semester... He would probably be out there with them tomorrow, the Spartans of barracks number nine would need a captain after all, for the encouragement if nothing else.<br/><br/>"So you seem to be more of a code wizard than I am, what say you break out you're tablet and I'll show you what I'm thinking and you see if you can crack the code portion of this, then I'll translated the cypher part." He suggested and the two went to work. He didn't know much Cantonese, but with the help of an online dictionary he was able to start making sense of things and paid well enough attention as she worked on the digital side of the homework to try and wrao his head around that. "When's you're next engagment?"