( despite her offer to regress to childhood school desks and communicate via notes folded and passed between them —... in the end, it doesn't really feel like it'd matter. the paper and pen were made by the captain just like the wall, right? if they're living on one living, maybe-breathing sensor pad with spy wires in every corner, than privacy and secrecy were just illusions. they were going to have to form a plan regardless, and can't let the looming threat of being overheard prevent this small scale rebellion from moving forward.

perhaps most importantly — )

I don't think we could say anything he hasn't heard before. And I don't think he cares about our conversations, and I don't think he believes he can be killed. So.

( they just have to count on that ego to be his foil. )

...actually, I bet he'd find it hilarious if we tried.