<div class="floatleft">(http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3oo3fv7yh1r7wrq1o4_250.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Kepler<br/><strong>Place within Hierarchy:</strong>Elizabeth's Talent<br/><strong>Role:</strong>Hand<br/><strong>Position:</strong>security/general labor<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Train -- his sleeping car, the food car<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>white T shirt and jeans, motorcycle boots<br/><strong>Languages and Accent:</strong>English, no accent<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Lawrence, Olaana<br/><br/>Kepler grabbed a towel and swabbed at his forehead then took a moment to let his blood settle before shoving his weights out of the way enough he'd have a path to walk. His time on the train was generally quiet, not much for him to do except read and work out and make the occasional peace when an argument turned nasty. It was a nice respite from circus days that kept him busy and ever vigilant. He cleaned up and changed into clean clothes -- another variation of course on the jeans-Tshirt-boots combo that was virtually his uniform -- musing as he did that he didn't seem to have to work out as much to maintain which was counterintuitive to what you always heard about your metabolism changing as you got older. But he felt healthy, strong...even better than when he was in the Marines...and part of him had to wonder if it was the same thing at work that made everyone so good at their acts. Not that he was of a nature to ponder this for long, preferring instead to just take things as read and leave the mysteries to others.<br/><br/>He quickly drew a comb through his hair which still ended up looking unruly and grabbed the book he'd been fighting his way through, tucking it under his arm. It was an older hardback with the dust jacket removed so it wasn't readily apparent what the title was, a far more serious work than he generally tackled and it was taking him some time to get through. He strode out in the corridor, steady on his feet despite the swaying of the train, and made his way to the dining car, giving those he passed a good morning and a nod. Stepping into the dining car, he wasn't exactly thrilled to see Olaana there as he could never be sure if she was going to come on to him or use him as a scratching post for her little kitten claws but at least she was with Lawrence which should be plenty to keep her busy.<br/><br/>"'morning," he said, polite and brief as always, then made straight for the food. Not really particular, he was more than happy to load up on oatmeal and bacon, grabbing a glass of juice to go with it as he thanked Jim, and turned to make his way to a table to tuck in.<br/>