"Occam's razor." is all he says in response, finishing off the last of his coffee and setting the mug down.
His social quota is reached so quickly... he's already itching to get out of this conversation, despite having absolutely nothing better to do until they're allowed out of this room. "You meet anyone that calls themselves a Hargreeves, do me a favor. Tell them Number Five is here."
no subject
His social quota is reached so quickly... he's already itching to get out of this conversation, despite having absolutely nothing better to do until they're allowed out of this room. "You meet anyone that calls themselves a Hargreeves, do me a favor. Tell them Number Five is here."