Log:Accents, Lives and Food

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Accents, Lives and Food
Characters  •   The Addict  •  The Penitent  •  The Confidant  •  The Loner  •
Location  •  The Facility - Dining Room
Date  •  2018-12-21
Summary  •  Continuation of Future Imperfect.

"Yorkshire." Glenn confirms with a bit of an annoyed snort. Sometimes he does display the Scottish annoyance with their southern neighbors. Except with Connor. "But you bloody Americans and your 'we don't have a accent'." He switches easily right into Glenn's American western drawl as he speaks those last words and gives a little sniff of irritation. "You think I have an accent to my own ears? No, the rest of you bloody do." He goes right back into the full glory of his Edinburgh burr and shakes his head, but he still manages to wave to Nolan. "Night."


Black tank top. Purple slacks. The woman that was Anette Hargreave most recently dresses very differently now. Padding barefoot into the dining room, she's making a trip to get herself something to eat. To the dispensary! She returns in quick order, with a plate of scrambled eggs and a cup of tea, wandering near the gathering. "Hello," she says in her vague, serene tones, tilting her head as she spies the Pedagogue making his retreat. "Say hi to Lupe for me," she offers before just helping herself to that spot 'Nolan' was in, settling down with the other Facility 'originals', so to speak. "How do we even know where an accent is from?" She wonders, inserting herself into the conversation. "Because we have memories that give us a point of reference? What if we didn't? If we can go from a space station in 2149 to the Old West, who's to say we can't end up in any place anyone could think up."


The Addict's hair is tied back in a messy braid, with tendrils fallen free around his face. Today he's wearing a robe with a swooshing, swirly pattern in shades of peach and white with black streaks. It falls short on his hips, and underneat he's got on black pajama bottoms. He would be at home in any number of treatment centers where the residents don't bother getting dressed. He goes to the dispenser to get himself some coffee and scrambled eggs. "I wonder what mine sounds like," he says. If one had to guess, someone's from New Jersey.


The Confidant dismisses The Loner with a wave of the hand. "It's American newscaster-ish. It's worse than American. It's fake. No one talks like this real. You learn this. And not all American accents are alike. Chance had a southern drawl underneath his speech impediment." And then Nettie sits down and The Confidant grins. "Hey. Good to see you. You ask a question I have been gladly trying to ignore." He looks down at his food and sighs. "I can just pinpoint accents. Down to the region. Heck's is Californian but mixed with north and south. His is Scottish but regionally murky as well. It rises and changes with his mood." Another smile is aimed at Addict. "New Jersey, for sure." Then's it's back to The Penitant. "To answer you, I haven't a clue why I know this shit. I assume it's from the same font of information that provides me with all the names of all the faces, Madison, Kylie, and Nettie." He thinks a moment. "It was usually the first name only until Prosperity. But there, last names mattered." He shrugs a bit. "My theory is knowing things about people helps me connect to them which is all I think about if I don't control myself."


"I've always spoken Edinburgh here." Loner says with a mild tone. "Andrew was Glaswegian.. annoyingly so. Callum on the otherhand was Edinburgh with a hint of Oxford but damned if I know how that got in there. Always Scottish but the region changes based on the life." He drains the rest of his tea and leans on the table. "But in the end accents don't tell us a whole hell of a lot, do they? Not when they can seemingly be altered so easily when we go into our new selves. The ones we have may have been implanted same as anyother. All I know of Scotland comes from Andrew's memories."


"Until some time we're in Middle-Earth or something and suddenly it's a Rohan accent or a Gondorian accent and then what does it all mean?" Penny says, shrugging her shoulders and then giving a guileless smile, beaming it practically as she starts to devour her eggs. With the occasional sip from that cup, she listens quietly as they talk. "This is why I don't see much point bothering with theories. The questions just chase themselves in circles and it seems more likely to drive me crazy than anything else is." She shrugs a little, and then beams a smile at the Addict, dipping her head. "Hello."


The Addict smiles at the Confidant. "New Jersey's nice." At least it was back in the time he remembers. He gives Nettie a perfectly puzzled look. "Middle-Earth? Like a journey to the center of the Earth? I've read some interesting theories." He tucks in to his breakfast, though it's the coffee he really savors. Sweet, sweet caffeine. "Without having access to our keepers, there's no way to confirm any of this. Maybe if we broke something, someone would surely come fix it. I'm sure they would incapacitate us first, perhaps put us to sleep. Has anyone investigated the vents?"


"Edinburgh. You're right." Confidant says and you can almost see him making the note in his mind. "But yeah, the others were a mix which is both cool and strange but..." The Confidant thinks for a moment. "Well, any theory I have is based on my deep belief that this is reality and the Encounters are the places with the variables. So a tweak to an accent or the entire loss of one's hearing, thus changing speech lays there." He looks to Penitent now. "I'd bet money that if we land in Middle-Earth, I will come back with a wide breadth of knowledge on its accents. And Martin brings up something else I've been thinking about."

He gestures to ones at the table. "We're old-timers now. Three a-peice. The Encounter was set in 2018. Martin, Eilis...they have no point of reference for the TV or touchscreen or JRR Tolkien's works." Beat and an aside. "Middle Earth is a place from a series of books, then films. This medieval-ish. And everything is unbreakable. There is no escape here." Then he drifts into thought a moment. "I'd probably end up blind in that time period. Fucking worst."


For once Loner actually looks intrigued. "You think we could end up in Middle Earth? I might actually put up with the horrible death in order to experience that one." For once, there's actually something akin to eagerness about the young man, but after a moment it seems to flit away. He looks down into his empty mug and that momentary light flits away. "No... that'd be too nice." He shakes his head and gets to his feet, moving towards the dispensers for another cup of tea.


"Remind me to find you the books," Penny says with a smile to the Addict, nodding her head, finishing up those scrambled eggs and leaning back, cupping both hands around the cup of tea now and lifting it. "But yes. We can't truly break anything here. There was someone who was here, she managed to pry one of the food machines off the wall and take it apart. The next day it was back where it should be, all fixed, good as new. Also, as far as I know, no one has managed to stay awake 'all night'. We all fall asleep at much the same time, and all wake up at much the same time. And what vents? I don't believe anyone's ever found a vent."

There's a nod from her to the Confident, a smile beaming there for a moment. "Maybe you'd know everything about it. I didn't expect I'd come back knowing all the best ways to make a train stop and board it and rob the passengers, though, so I'm just not sure." She glances at the Loner. "I have no idea really, but we've seen vastly different settings so far. Who knows where we'll end up, but I'm sure there'll be some way for it to be just as terrifying and horrible."


The Addict nods to the Confidant, and he sighs quietly in disappointment than nothing around here breaks. "I'd like that," he says to Nettie. "I've been reading quite a bit, and a lot of the stories are confusing because I lack context, but I've figured out what the television is, and the dispensers are fairly self-explanatory. Culturally though..." He shakes his head. "What if we wake up inside one of those videos? And there's music playing? And we have to dance?" He frowns. "No, that doesn't make any sense."


"You got me there, Nettie." Confidant grins. "I really don't know anything else. If it's not about people. I don't really know it. And I don't retain a lot of raw knowledge from Encounters. I can't insert an IV like Chance. I can't psychoanalyze like Henry and I can't...well, Jody was smart as fuck but no one really knew. He was high all the time. He was good at putting things together that seemed to have no connection. It made him a good detective. Me? People facts. Names. Accents. Likes and dislikes. Personality patterns. I have theories about this place but I could never work them out, really. My head is full of people facts and I'm not even organized enough to write it down and make it useful to anyone besides me. Assuming it's useful. It's not." He drops the last of his ravioli. Bye appetite. Hello pouty-face.


<Pose Order> The Confidant has removed The Pedagogue.


Getting another steaming cup of tea, Loner muses softly. "I wouldn't have mined keeping Andrew's ability to play the guitar. Figuring it out though. Yet there's an annoying amount of information on herbs in my head." He sniffs his tea and looks to those around the table with a shrug. "I'll be in my room if anyone needs me." His tone says he'd be happier if no one bothered him regardless. And just like that he's heading to the door back to the parlor.


Offering a finger wriggle of a wave to the Loner, Penny inclines her head slightly, sipping from her cup of tea thoughtfully. "I still have some basic idea on how to drive a power loader. I don't think I'm as good at it as Kylie was, though. She could make them dance. Madison knew how to manage money, the right people to talk to to get what she wanted. The right people to bribe." There's a soft sigh there, though, and then a shrug of her shoulders. "As for myself, I don't know what I'm good at." She offers a smile at the Addict, which grows into a grin. "If the worst we have to face next is staring in a music video, well. I think that'd be a great chance of pace, personally."


<Pose Order> The Confidant has removed The Loner.


The Addict nods to the Loner as he gets up to leave. He's quiet for a moment, staring at his mostly empty plate of eggs. "Martin was smarter," he says, and it's his first admission that that man in Prosperity wasn't really him. Not really. "I don't think I'm stupid, but my mind isn't quick like his was. My conclusions are all over the place, and I'm distracted. I want something, and I don't know what it is, but I'm just consumed by want. I can barely think straight." He glances down at himself, the way he's dressed. "I don't know what's wrong with me." That little admission given, he offers the Penitent a small smile. "At least I can still dance, so maybe it won't be so bad."


The Confidant gestures back to the television. "Last time, it was Westerns. I think, if I had to guess, we are going to the 1980s. A whole one hundred year difference for you!" He says to Addict, cheerfully. "Not that I trust the TV. It's a little on the nose, you know? So it could be all wrong. We won't know until we...come back afterwards." He sighs. "I can't dance. Chance wasn't really into music. He was so hearing impaired it was really just noise and vibrations. Henry was a super serious professional and was too busy hiding his delusions to enjoy anything. Jody just couldn't. And I can't either. Christ. I'm making myself sad. I'll be back." The Confidant gets up, leaving his dishes and wanders over to the parlor's bookshelves.


"Maybe that's the scary part," Penny says with an amused grin, leaning foward, "Maybe we're all going to have to star in a music video but we'll be unable to sing and dance and it'll be awful." There's a soft little tinkle of laughter from her, merry and amused at the very idea of it. It's an attempt to cheer the Confidant up a little, but she looks after him with a sorrowful sort of look. "I'm sorry." She says quietly before taking another mouthful of tea for herself, glancing at the Addict. "I'm not sure there's anything wrong with you. I was talking recently with one of those new people who have no memories, a friend of mine once said ... that she was driven by urges she didn't quite understand either. Perhaps we all are, where yours is this 'wanting' you talk about. Which," she smiles sympathetically, "Can't be very fun. I'm sorry."


The Addict watches the Confidant get up and wander away. "I could teach you to dance," he calls over, adding as an afterthought, "Even though I have no idea how I know how." He takes a drink of coffee and sighs softly in some semblance of contentment. The caffeine helps his headaches just like the laudanum helped his shoulder pain. "It's bearable," he tells Penny, "but no, not fun." He tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. "It's strange," he says, "to have the social mores in my mind of a place like Prosperity, but to only want to dress like I do, and to have no one around me care. That part is freeing. I mean, it's not all terrible here."


"I'm glad it's bearable," She replies with an almost vacant smile, settling in and managing to look quite content really, here in the dining hall. "It is strange. I've got some inclination towards that kind of interaction too, after Anette. Though she didn't exactly follow the social expectations of women in a place like that now, did she? All because she wanted to go off and fight the Devil." A slight shake of her head, her gaze distant. Thoughtful. It's very much the same as the way Anette herself would seem to drift off, though there's less burden about the way it happens here. "I have never really thought this place is all that terrible. So many people try to figure it out, but honestly? I feel like I belong here. Like I deserve to be here. Sometimes, that definitely makes me feel like the odd one our of all of us."


The Addict watches Penny. "I liked the kind of woman you were back then," he says. "They shrinking violet was never all that interesting." He tilts his head as he considers her assertion that she deserves to be here. "I'm concerned about waking up as someone else," he says, "and the scenario we might end up in, but actually being here, it's not so bad. A little lonely, because I lack a lot of the shared experiences you all have, but other than that, our needs are met, we're without disease or injury." He shrugs a shoulder. "It's a place to rest, and that's what I intend to do."


"Did you? I got the impression that Martin Munson had no idea how to talk to that kind of woman," Penny says thoughtfully, that light smile there on her lips, though her gaze focuses back on him. It's a light, teasing tone. "You're not wrong. It is a place to rest. It's interesting that 'they', if there even is a 'they', give us these brief breaks in whatever they have planned for us. And trust me, it's not so bad to wake up as someone else. Until you're back here, anyway. Living through all that and then ending up back here ... I think it's worse than getting killed along the way, honestly."


The Addict says wryly, "Martin Munson didn't now how to talk to any kind of woman." He takes the tease with good nature and a shake of his head. "I wonder what my real name is, or if I have one. Arthur calls me Martin, so I'll be Martin. I just wonder sometimes." He winces with sympathy. "That's the part I'm not thrilled about. Living through it, maybe falling in love, maybe marrying, then waking up and it was all like a dream. I wish I could send a message to that future self to guard his heart." Then, in a lower tone, he asks Penny, "Are you doing okay, though? I know things were awkward for a bit."


"There's no answering that one, I'm afraid. Some people have picked names for themselves. I ... tried to. But I could never find one that fit. So far, I just answer to Madison, or Kylie, or Anette. Though I tend to prefer anything but Madison, really." There's that soft smile again, distant and thoughtful. "It was easier to move on from Madison and Kylie. They died. Anette didn't and she's harder to shake. I don't know if we can avoid the pain, or if we even should." She licks her lips thoughtfully, considering his last question. "I'm not sure why things were awkward. Anette had a lot of siblings, and I don't feel so strongly about them. Though there's several I haven't seen here, yet. But! We are ... figuring it out. Already our connection to each other has changed once. Who's to say it won't again? And if it will, maybe we should just enjoy what we have while we do. But it's still strange, you know?"


The Addict nods as he says, "I think I do. You're right, of course, that we should enjoy what we have while we do. Speaking of which," he gets up to get himself another cup of coffee. "At least the coffee is good," he says as he returns to the table. "And not that godawful stuff Heck used to brew back at the Sheriff's station. I swear he only got four pots to a pound, and it was so thick the spoon would stand up in it." He resettles in his seat. "We should do something before we get sent off again, into the music world. A gathering, maybe, to unwind. Everyone is so tense and sad."


"But I don't know really. With Maata gone from this place, I'm not really sure what ..." she trails off, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter I suppose. I'm not sure anything really matters here. We can't even die. All our 'needs' provided for, but what do we really need if we'll always come back? Company, I suppose." There's an attempt at a smile when talking about Heck's coffee, the memory something of a fond one as she's thoughtful as he settles back in. "Maybe. It's not so simple as that, I think. And there's still people I hope to figure things out with, but they seem to be ... not coming out so much. Not that I can blame them. Some of us just don't know what to do."


<Pose Order> The Confidant has removed The Confidant.


"Maata's gone?" The Confidant is back. "For that matter, has anyone seen Addie?" And he looks, for all intents and purposes, like a sad, lost puppy. He was giggling for a little bit over at the bookshelves. He has paperback romance in his hand. "The girl I went home with after the island has a new person behind her door. That was awkward." He drops down into his seat now and opens his generic Save-A-Ton Cola. "We should do something before we...sleep again. Reaffirm our bond. Because we are bonded. Like...soldiers in the trenches."


The Addict says, "It matters because it means something to us. Especially in a place like this, with all of our agency taken away and no control over anything. Caring, not caring, it's one of the few choices we've been given. I hate that so many of us are hurting." His features pinch in helpless displeasure. "But we can't blame them. I admit, I have no idea what to do. Half the time, when I come out of my room, I have no idea what I'm going to do. I just wander around until I do it. That can't be good. Mentally, I mean."


The Penitent nods at the returning confidant, shrugging her shoulders. "She was in Prosperity. I remember meeting her in the town square, and then the Devil showed up and said strange things to me. In those months before the Reaping. I never saw her after that, and the symbol on her door is different. Someone else is in there now. Cillian ... is not taking it well. On top of everything else." She shakes her head, glancing to Martin. "Does it mean anything to us though? I'm not ... hurting, that much. It's harder to let go of Anette than it usually is for me, but ... I don't know. I just try to think simple thoughts. Like how much I enjoy eggs. Everything else ... it's too much. Too big."


The Addict smiles at the Confidant as he returns. The smile fades though in deference to this 'Maata' who didn't make it back. "We'll do something. I'll ask Arthur what he thinks. He's got such a creative mind." With a quiet sigh, he adds, "There are some folks that aren't doing quite so well. I hurt if I think about Fleur too much, then feel like a fool for mourning someone who never was. I spend a lot of time alone in a state of existential crisis, and that makes the constant wanting worse. You're right, it's too big. But I think seeking is in my nature."


The Confidant flops on the table, laying his head on folded arms. "That's why I write. All of that. Bored, hurting, lonely, thinking too much...it occupies. I cope. And maybe, someone will feel encouraged. Or not. I'm okay with that too. I would rather we didn't hurt." He looks to Addict. "I still miss my sister from the island. Helena. Two Encounters ago. You can miss Fleur, it's alright. She was real. It's not like she never was. She's just...gone. Also, you recall Miss Irene Colton? She's always with me. Like a fucking angel. Three times. Of course, I don't recall her but to think she might be there...it's nice."


"Never was?" Penny says quietly. "No, I don't think that's right." She gestures to the Confidant, emphasising his point. "She was real. The memories are real, those things happened, even if we were only those people for a brief moment in their lives. Probably the biggest moment in their lives. But that happened, I know it did. I still have the ring Cillian gave me, after all, just as I have Kylie's multitool and Madison's cellphone. And who's to say your Fleur isn't real? Maybe she is. Maybe she's in another place just like this one, mulling over her own memories and wondering if you're real." She shakes her head, emptying her cup of tea. "I mean, there's no reason to think she is. No reason to think she's not. I like the nicer thought. Maybe that's true of Addie, as well," she says, addressing Confidant's earlier point, looking at him. "I don't think I've ever seen her here."


The Addict bows his head and says, "I'd like to think she's out there somewhere wondering what happened to me. She accepted me the way I am, with my feelings for Arthur, she didn't mind. I didn't have to pretend to be someone else with her." He studies his coffee cup, then takes a drink. "I have my father's cross. I keep thinking about what it means, but honestly I think it's just that I used it as a focus in the banishings, and it became part of me. I'm not exactly cut out for following the Christian path." He smiles a little at Jody. "Maybe I'll see Fleur again. That's something to look forward to."


"Imagine never getting to say you are sorry." The Confidant laments and buries his face for a moment. He comes up and sighs. "I have Jody's cane, Henry's empty pill bottle and Chance's hearing aid." He snorts. "They always remind me that...I overcame something. Live or die, I came in on the back foot and still did what I was meant to do. And then I wake up and I'm fine. Though, my frame of reference was that of a guy who'd been deaf since childhood so...I was weird. But that only lasted that one time."


Something Jody says catches the Penitent's attention. "I seem to always be sorry for something. I'm always saying it." She says quietly, staring into the empty teacup herself, nodding vaguely at the two of them. "Even here and now, I feel a certain ... burden of guilt that has nothing to do with any of the situations we've found ourselves in as other people. But they too all felt it as well. Madison, responsible for finding and securing the island that was cursed, and for dealing with a madman that wanted everyone killed. Kylie was running from her past and the things she did. Anette was an outlaw, and probably carried what she did the best of anyone, knowing it had to be done. But ... this place, feels like a punishment I deserve. That's why I guess I don't stress over the details of it all here."


The Addict grimaces and says, "I don't think you should be punished. We've all done wrong, but we've all done good, too. You're no exception to that." He bites his lip, then says, "I only have the one life to reference, and I haven't seen a pattern emerge yet. But I don't think this is a punitive place. It's not exactly the Hell we were promised at church." To the Confidant, he says, "That had to have been strange, to wake up to sound. I admit, I kind of want to live another life just so I can know more about things you all take for granted. Like that television, and the kind of plumbing they have here, and half the stuff in my room that makes no sense."


The Confidant laughs at Addict. "I'll come in your room and explain anything you want to me, man. I mean...that's what I do. Or try. Just make things easier." He sits up now, book in hand. "Nettie, you have nothing to feel guilty about. I threw my brother in law under the bus just to hurt my...my favorite sibling. My big sister. I can only...well, I'm cool with Caleb. That's all I'm able to do. I'm going to read this fluff." He holds up the romance novel. Ah. Pirates. "My door's open. I listen. And Martin, don't suffer in silence, alright?" He smiles, genuine but weak before turning to leave.


The Penitent shakes her head. "Nope, I'm sorry, but you're both wrong. The guilt I feel has nothing to do with what Madison did, or what Kylie did, or what Anette did. I cannot shake the feeling that before this place, if there was a before it, I did something horrible. Maybe we all did. Maybe this is our punishment. To be stripped of our memories and put here and made to live through these horrible events. Maybe this is our prison that we get to deal with. Maybe Maata isn't here any more because she served her time and is done." She shrugs one shoulder in a lopsided shrug, lifting a hand as she does. "It's a theory as good as any other we have." She does offer a pleasant smile though, nodding her head at the Confidant. "Enjoy your reading."


"Thank you," Martin says to the Confidant, his tone emphatic. "I'll bring you over sometime and show you everything. I feel like it's meant for someone I barely know how to be. Enjoy your pirate book." As the man goes, the Addict turns his attention to the Penitent, and he worries his lower lip between his teeth. "I suppose we're going to frame this place from our own perspectives, and that will inform as much about us as it will the place. You feel it's a fitting punishment. I feel cared for. If I had some other life, outside of this, I have a feeling I wasn't doing so great taking care of myself. Here, it's just a matter of getting what I need."


"Oh ... I feel cared for. Prisons are meant to look after the prisoners, after all. Even my room kind of feels like a cell, though it's a pretty luxurious cell, when you think about it." Penny pauses a moment, considering Martin. "I could help you understand your room too, maybe. There can certainly be a lot of tedium in this place, though I think Chance there is probably better at actually helping people." She pauses a moment. "Maybe that what he does, like you and your 'need' you mentioned."


"The things that define us," Martin muses. He sets his coffee cup down. The coffee is tepid now anyway. "There's makeup in my room," he admits. "I don't know how to put it on. I don't know why I have it. I don't want to get rid of it, though. I somehow doubt Chance is going to know how to help me out with that one." He smiles fleetingly, then bows his head. "It's a comfortable room. I feel like I've had worse. But yeah, there's that need. Sometimes drinking helps. It doesn't fulfill it, but it makes me not care so much."


Making a thoughtful 'hmh'ing sound, Penny nods slowly. "Do you want to know how to put it on?" She asks plainly, completely unjudging or perhaps just oblivious, really. "Maybe he will know. You never know unless you ask these things, sometimes. Maybe you can read a book about it if you want to figure it out yourself. Any book I've ever wanted to find has always been there, on the shelves. Sometimes it takes a moment, but it'll be there." She does echo that fleeting smile. "I'm glad. Some people here, they don't like their room all that much it seems. And some of them are just ... disturbing. I don't think I can recommend drinking all the time, but I don't really know, here. I've got my reasons for avoiding it, but I recently found out that depends on which of my selves I'm feeling closest too."


The Crusader comes from the parlor.


The Addict smiles a little as he says, "Actually, I would love it if you'd show me how to put it on. I know I can get the information out of a book, but it's not the same as, I don't know, sharing the time with someone. I came into Prosperity having lived my entire life out of books, with no connection to anyone except a dead guy I can't even really remember. It was awful. I would've done anything just to have a friend."

He sits with the Penitent at a dining table, having demolished most of a plate of eggs and two cups of coffee, each cup lined up beside the other. He's in a peach and white robe with black streaks, and black pajama bottoms, his long hair done back in a sloppy braid. "I get too morose when I'm drunk," he says. "Which is why I only do it alone."


"One of the people I was, Madison, she ..." Penny rises up to her feet as she speaks, considering. "She couldn't handle what was happening, and did nothing but sit alone and drink and be terrified. If she hadn't been killed, I don't think she would have ever stopped. I put in a lot of effort to not be Madison, when I first got here, and that's when I decided not to drink. Something to distance me from her." She explains gently, and then makes her way to the dispensary once again. A refill on her cup of tea, but also a plate. Pancakes! With ice cream and maple syrup as she settles herself back down.

"I'm sorry that you had to go through that. But you made friends, didn't you? People you really came to care about, obviously. And of course I can help you with that stuff, some time." She seems pleased, to be useful!


The Addict's eyes widen a bit as Penny returns with pancakes loaded up with ice cream. "I can't conceive of some of the things people here eat," he says. "Do they eat a lot of stuff like this in the future?" He looks at the dispenser speculatively. "I did make friends," he says as he slowly looks away from it back to Penny. "Which is why I still care about the people here, whether they're the same or not. You all came to be the people I'd live and die for, and since all we have here is each other, I don't see why that has to change."


"It's ... just panckes and icecream," Penny says uncertainly, glancing down at her food and shrugging as she sets to it. Delicious! "It's one of my favourite desserts. There's lots of stuff we eat ..." It's really hard to explain this kind of thing to someone, so she really doesn't try too after a moments thought, just shaking her head and enjoying it for herself. "Of course. There's nothing wrong with caring, we went through a lot together, as the families of Prosperity. I don't know why it should change either, though conflicting memories can make things weird."


"I've just never had them together," the Addict says. "I might try it sometime." He thinks for a moment, then says, "I'm sure those conflicts will come soon enough for me, so I'm just going to enjoy the time I have of knowing exactly how I feel about all of you." He gets to his feet then and gathers up his dishes to take away. "I'm going to check on Arthur and bring him something to eat. I worry about him sometimes. All of this is a lot to take. We'll do the makeup soon, okay?"


"Oh yes. I am a little envious that you can just enjoy it, and recommend you do. Thoroughly." That almost vacant smile remains there as she nods her head once to the Addict, enjoying the simple pleasure of eating her dessert. "You can find me any time you like. My door is the one with the woman with her face in her hands while a village burns in the distance behind her. Say hello to Arthur for me."


The Addict winces and says, "That's a little rough. I'll be sure to make a note of it. And yeah, I will." He takes his dishes away, then picks a sandwich from thie dispenser for Arthur and another cup of coffee. Because what he really needs in this confined space is a mad case of the jitters. "Take care of yourself, Anette," he says, then he pads back into the parlor, and from there, down the hallway of doors.