If there was in fact something so specifically rockin' occurring on Tuesdays that it was impossible for anyone participating to accept the existence of dinosaur bones the size of a human until after lunch, then at least one other person in the City had no idea what that something was. And he'd eaten a sandwich earlier, anyway, so even if he did know, he was by that point perfectly capable of acknowledging foreign bronze statues.
It bothered Trowa to no small degree that he didn't really know anything about the historic events of this era beyond a few vague details regarding both of the World Wars that had taken place in the previous century. Going by what he'd managed to gather from a few of Quatre's old textbooks--there had been some use in 01 and 04 going to school here for a while after all, apparently--he'd figured out that things had indeed rolled out in nearly the same fashion.
Hopefully, they would not do so forever. The prospect of this place experiencing the Third was a sobering thought.
Still, there was much that he'd never learned, not having been taught anything not absolutely essential to his life as a mercenary and suit pilot, and as time wore on he'd slowly come to the realization that his ongoing stay in the City would require additional information.
Especially if they were going to be forced to keep fighting--naturally, understanding the soldiers of this age would then become crucial.
...Besides which, he needed the mental escape from being forced to deal with certain unpleasant issues of his own.
Trowa turned from the sidewalk, starting up the staircase with the intention of hanging around by the doors and watching people go by on the street below; after getting seven steps up, he paused, then silently proceeded to walk in reverse back to the third and stare down at Jaime, who was sitting there like a lemon.
And the one person in the City who will let him mope if he so pleases
It bothered Trowa to no small degree that he didn't really know anything about the historic events of this era beyond a few vague details regarding both of the World Wars that had taken place in the previous century. Going by what he'd managed to gather from a few of Quatre's old textbooks--there had been some use in 01 and 04 going to school here for a while after all, apparently--he'd figured out that things had indeed rolled out in nearly the same fashion.
Hopefully, they would not do so forever. The prospect of this place experiencing the Third was a sobering thought.
Still, there was much that he'd never learned, not having been taught anything not absolutely essential to his life as a mercenary and suit pilot, and as time wore on he'd slowly come to the realization that his ongoing stay in the City would require additional information.
Especially if they were going to be forced to keep fighting--naturally, understanding the soldiers of this age would then become crucial.
...Besides which, he needed the mental escape from being forced to deal with certain unpleasant issues of his own.
Trowa turned from the sidewalk, starting up the staircase with the intention of hanging around by the doors and watching people go by on the street below; after getting seven steps up, he paused, then silently proceeded to walk in reverse back to the third and stare down at Jaime, who was sitting there like a lemon.
Well. That was certainly unexpected.