Christian kept his head down. If he was lucky--because it was too soon in a strange place to be 'good'--no one noticed him unless he allowed them to. So far, he'd been decently lucky. When the war broke out in the 'city' he had been staying unseen--keeping up the appearance of sleep. The fallout didn't affect him, and no one who spoke to him of it during the meal seemed surprised he'd missed it at all.

He'd stashed his sword where it would be safe and where he would easily be able to retrieve, should he have need of it. Carrying it around with him made him stand out in ways he'd rather not. There were many who carried weapons around the ship, but he preferred to be viewed as a noncombatant. Even by Petrelli, who regrettably recognized him. He had no need of the weapon for protective purposes. It held little more than sentimental value, and if he were to keep up the appearance of a collector to those Petrelli chose not to inform (and he did suspect the man's Petrelli blood would keep his secrets well until it served the man better to share his advantage) he would have to hoard what he had, not carry it around.

Such was why Christian, once Adam, once so many other names, now sat on the Obs deck, picking away at food he did not entirely require (which was to say...he did not particularly enjoy sustaining himself without it.), observing those who passed him by more than he observed the mess on his 'plate'. At first glance, he might have appeared so unremarkable, he hardly warranted another glance. On the other hand, he might appear as if he were a fitting piece from the wrong jigsaw puzzle. Yet, the same could be said of many of the crew he observed. With such different surroundings than those he had acquainted himself to over the past four centuries, it was...a process to find the right balance.

[OOC: What'd I tell ya? Bendytime constructiveness. Just in case someone might want to actually meet Christian-Adam before he gets serious. Indeed, it is a very late first EP for the man.]