Log:Enter a Soldier. Later: Enter Another

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Enter a Soldier. Later: Enter Another
Characters  •   The Martyr  •  The Bon-Vivant  •  The Rogue  •  The Lover  •  The Bravo  •  The Addict  •  The Vigilante  •  The Penitent  •  The Pedagogue  •
Location  •  Hall of Doors and Parlor
Date  •  2019-03-03
Summary  •  Various people emerge from their rooms to mixed results.

The Martyr is sitting crossed legged between door's just parlorward of across from Scott's door. He has made a sort of nest for himself out of black body pillows and a jewel toned crazy quilt. His long pale vulnerable looking neck is bent as he studies. He has an open book from which he is reading, but there are a large French-English Dictionary, a grammar book and a notepad and mechanical pencil at hand for taking notes, which he is doing.

The Martyr is wearing a purple linen poet shirt with a lot of neck and wrist ruffles open to display a bit of pasty chest and tight black on black paisley trousers with purple high top sneakers. The differences between the Martyr and Finn are subtle. He is the same age, with very similar hair, though slightly longer, and in a slightly different cut, and is still long limbed and gangling. Though he remains very thin, he is wiry with it instead of borderline emaciated.


It can't be long since the first of the survivors made an appearance. The Bon-Vivant isn't generally the sort to sit and pontificate on his own, and recognizing where he is, memories that feel for him both over a year ago and virtually yesterday take a moment to war with the ones that really do feel like yesterday and come out with a list of things to do. Number one is keeping a promise -- and something to anchor this as reality again.

So he's up, throwing the sheets back and heading to his door, pulling it open swiftly and stepping immediately out, on a course straight across the corridor. He looks older than he did at the Lodge -- 5 or 10 years, probably -- and his hair's about shoulder-length right now, but frankly still pretty damn well-behaved, considering he apparently just woke up. This theory is supported by the fact that he's in navy-blue silk pajama pants and nothing else. He's got a very short, nearly trimmed beard, too, so that's a difference. But past that, it's pretty clearly Scott. Or at least Scott's older brother.

"Boet?" he's calling toward the door he emerges, one hand already lifting to knock and the other moving as though it might try to just grab the knob and open the door if there isn't an immediate answer, but he stops short on spotting the nest and its inhabitant, and blinks. "--Finn?" he asks, startled and uncertain, and then breaks into a brilliant grin and more or less dives in to hug him, so one hopes the guy's had a chance to get somewhat up, or he actually might get knocked over. "Finn!"


The Martyr looks up, startled himself. Scott's older brother or not, he knows this face. The book is swiftly marked with a purple ribbon and he's up, the quilt sliding into a puddle, expression hopeful and shy at once, "Scott? Fizz?" He lifts his arms invitingly, preempted by a hug he wasn't sure he deserved. He hugs back tightly eyes welling up with tears, "You made it!" More softly, "You remembered. I cried so hard when you sang for me." Those arms are stronger now and his chest significantly less bony. Here, he is more substantial than he was there, but he smells of ivory soap and that cologne he was wearing the night they saw the Princess in Lakeview the first time, and most of all he smells like Finn, or close enough not to matter.


It's a tight hug on both sides, and the Bon-Vivant's eyes might be welling up a little bit as well. Certainly he's not inclined to swiftly let go. "You're here," he says, stating the extremely obvious, but at least sounding quietly delighted about it. "I-- he--" a tiny pause, "We? Shit, I haven't had to pronoun this before. ...he barely got through that without bursting into tears. I'm just-- I'm glad you're alive." Unlike some of the others, he actually sounds a lot like he did at the Lodge; a bit less of the '80s surfer that snuck in particularly when Scott was drunk or high, but still US west coast leaning to Californian. He smells clean and, likewise, essentially Scottlike. He gives another tight squeeze before drawing back enough to be able to look at Finn, and then blinks, part of that hitting him. "Wait, how did you know about the singing?"


The Martyr seems unwilling to let go entirely, but he's loosens his hold enough to do his own quiet inventory, "Caleb said you'd likely make it because your door sigil stayed the same. We've sort of been taking turns... Danny's fine. Oh, fuck Scott-Fizz! I missed you so much!" He actually does answer the question, "The TV. It let us watch certain things. Cheer-Kimmy said it helped keep her sane. She was alone here for most of a week until Misty died. Anyway, I saw how incredibly fucking brave you were, and how kind. I was so fucking proud of you, to have been your friend."


"He's here, then," Fizz says, looking toward the Rogue's door, at the symbol there; it isn't exactly a question, but there's relief in it. "And Danny, and Cheer." He hesitates briefly, "Sonya? If you're here, is Kirk? Roxie, and Laine, and-- shit, I'm going to be listing people all day." There's a half-smile there that's a lot more like Scott well into that second week than the grin that he -- and Fizz a few moments ago, in fact -- started with.

He shakes his head, shaking a bit of that off, and lets the rest of what he heard sink in better. "I-- we," he decides this time, "missed you too. It really... it had us on the TV?" He seems uncertain how he feels about that. Unsettled, for now. "Did it show what happened this last... this year since? How long have the rest of you been back?"


The Martyr says, “Caleb's here, he's fine. Danny's Briar now and I think really happy. I haven't seen Sonya yet, Film kirk is, but Cheer's Kirk isn't." He winces. "I haven't seen her since she realized he wasn't coming, but she made it. Tommy didn't. Roxie did, but she's... really, really not Roxie anymore." He studies him Scott for the reaction. "I am told Laine and Joshua made it, but I haven't seen them myself. Christine and Emily are both here. Max and Bastian made it. I stopped watching after you helped save the world and the TV was dead when we went to check a little while ago. I don't know what happened to you after the cave."”


It's fair to assume Cheer's Kirk, as it were, is the one the Bon-Vivant meant; he can't help the disappointment there. People have told him not everyone shows up here, but Finn being here now but not before gave him some hope on that front, it would seem. No Tommy either is also sad, if not quite so much. The Roxie part, by contrast, he takes largely in stride. "I remember her from before," he says, regarding that, with a small nod, "but that's-- good to know." He considers for a moment before saying, "I'm not Scott, exactly, either. But we're not, like, massively different, I think." And some of Scott's speech patterns are sticking, apparently, because 'like' didn't generally sneak in like that before.

He catches his bottom lip briefly with his teeth. "It was a year, for me. After everything happened, when we got home, I was there for another year. Another year exactly." His brow furrows slightly. "Thinking about the things that happened then feels weird, though, it's not like thinking about things at the Lodge." He hasn't entirely stopped hugging yet. No hurry, right?


The Martyr give him a crooked smile, "I'm not Finn either an a few fairly obvious ways. I'm calling myself Dare now." He touches Scott's cheek with soft fingertips, "I freaked out a little when I found I wasn't, but I'm used to it now, and to people being as they are here. I am sorry about Kirk." His dark eyes are kind and serious. He's made no move to pull away, "Is it like the things that happened before the island?"


The Bon-Vivant takes a moment to think about that, then nods. "Yeah. Thinking about my-- his high school things, it has the same feeling as last year," he confirms, "Or, I guess, the same vagueness of feeling." Brow still furrowed; it's a more unpleasant sensation than he'd have expected, having the emotion so dimmed on those memories. Whereas on others... "...it's weird."

A breath, and he focuses on the Martyr again; it shows in the sudden reappearance of the grin, if a bit smaller this time. "You're here, though. And not, like, totally un-Finn. Dare? I can go with Dare." He pulls him in for another properly tight hug, and actually does let go afterward, though he doesn't move far away. "Anything different that I should be careful of?"


The Martyr buries his nose in his hair during the last hug, but doesn't resist being released, "Emily's really different. Max is... not mellow the way she was right before she died. I warned you about Roxie. There's a really nice new guy calling himself Boots, which isn't a warning, more a hey, be ice to the new guy if you see him. Oh, and the rooms with the... other places in them have people and animals and if you go somewhere you were out there your sort of revert, but you stay as you are now if you go to somewhere you weren't when you were Scott.


The Bon-Vivant looks confused for just a moment when the answers start coming, and then there's another little grin. It's fleeting, though, as he listens to the rest; small nods noting each note. "I remember Emily from before," he says, "She was-- Kylie, and Nettie. And I'm always nice!" He considers that briefly, tilting his head, and amends, "Well, I'm not a dick to random new people on purpose, anyway." A glance past Dare and into the parlour, toward the Anywhere Room doors, and his expression goes speculative. "Animals and people now. That's /awesome/. We can do all the horse things and other animal shit on the list now! And..." He trails off, focus returning to the Martyr and expression dimming slightly. "What does that mean, exactly? Like, if I went to UO in 1989, I'd be Scott there? But if I went to... I dunno, Tahiti at that same time, I'd be me? If I went to where Scott was in 1986 would I be him? What about the year after the lodge? Or-- five years later, if I went where he would've been? If I went to February 1989, could I visit Kirk?" It's an example, rather than a plan, but maybe he would.


The Martyr nods, "Briar took me to Prosperity and he became Martin." He shudders, "Briar was inside with the Briar and Danny memories, but Briar looked and sounded like Martin and was all... tamped down and flat and... It was good that I saw, but it was quietly horrifying. So if we went to the U of O in '89, I'd be Finn again and you'd be Scott. We'd sound and act like we were, but we'd remember now too. Or we could be Dare and Fizz in Tahiti, getting pleasantly buzzed on a beach, yes. I don't know what would happen if you went back to '86 or forward to '90, but my bet is you'd just be that Scott and I'd be Dare. I'm pretty sure you could be Scott visiting Kirk the February before he died.


"I guess... if there was already Scott there, I'd be that Scott," Fizz says, thinking this through, "or else there'd be multiple Scotts. And while there's probably some people who wouldn't mind that," a quick, wicked grin with something decidedly Scott-ish in it itself, "it sounds like recipe for sci-fi paradox things." He gives that whole thing a bit more thought, then a nod. "Getting buzzed in Tahiti sounds pretty good, actually. We should do that, later." The others might need a bit more consideration before he jumps into that. "...was it really that bad? Martin, I mean? I only saw him here a little, I think, before..."


The Martyr returns the wicked grin, "I admit I wouldn't say no to a double Scotch. Time goes differently in there. You can go for hours and only a little time has passed." He sobers quickly at the thought of Prosperity, "It was a terrible, cursed place. I'll take the Murder ghosts any day instead and it was bad. Martin's life was like something out of "We Have Always Lived in the Castle" with a murderous grandmother and demons and monsters snatching people off the street. Martin as so quiet and beaten down." He shivers, "It was like they'd sucked most of the life out of him. I didn't know Martin until last night, but I think being Danny was a very good thing and the combination... It's like pieces slotting together to make something beautiful and unique and truly whole.


The Bon-Vivant gives a soft snort of a laugh to the 'double Scotch' joke -- and then looks perhaps dangerously thoughtful for a moment, though it passes when Dare talks more soberly about Prosperity, and Martin there. "The way they talked about it, it never sounded like a real good time," he says, "...but I did notice most of them used their names from there anyway. Even the ones who'd been other people before. Maybe that doesn't mean anything, but it kinda feels like it should."

A small pauses as he studies Dare again. "You picked something new, though. And I guess Briar did this time, too." It makes him smile. "I think that's a good choice, personally. I think some stuff is easier for me 'cause I was here before I was anywhere else; I was me before I was anyone else. But I think knowing we're someone here and it's not quite any of who we are anywhere else... matters. So I think the names matter, even if some people don't. And I... it'll be interesting to meet him, then." He likes new things, but there's still some uneasiness in not yet knowing what he'll find in anyone. He wasn't worried about the Rogue, and he wasn't quite expecting Finn-- that is, Dare, but now there's time for the uncertainty of everyone else to seep in.


The Martyr nods at his comments about prosperity. "I think it was... very vivid for the ones who came back from it." Then he's giving Fizz a big pleased grin, "You got it without me having to explain it. Most people don't." He cocks his head, "Briar's genderfluid. Caleb can explain it better than I can because he's from our future, but it means sometimes Briar is a boy and sometimes a girl and sometimes in between. Briar's very femme right now." He blushes, "It's insanely hot. Briar wears this lip gloss and the way Briar moves.... Fizz, you remember how Danny used to move? Somehow it's a little like that only even more...." He manages to stop himself.


The Bon-Vivant blinks and cocks his head a little in return at this genderqueer thing; his frame of reference is mainly 1990, now, since what he had before that was patchy at best. But the explanation makes a certain amount of sense, apparently, given that he nods; 'very femme' at least definitely finds a referent in there. Still, "...Briar doesn't actually, like..." a vague gesture downward along his body, "/change/, though, right?" Not like this would be a terrible thing, just... certainly a new aspect of the Facility if so. And with Anywhere Rooms and such, he's apparently not quite sure he can rule that out. "More kinda drag?" He can't avoid a quiet laugh, though, and glances aside, "Yeah, I remember how Danny used to move..." Another blink, this one leading to a faintly chagrined expression, and he turns his head, looking down along the doors. "Oh, dude. I wonder how many people here I've slept with, now?" Yeah, we'll worry about that one later. "Hyacinth," he asks, looking to Dare again, "...and Lulu, are they here? I never saw either of them before the Lodge."


The Martyr had no clue at first, but he listened hard to the answers. Dare blushes again, "Definitely all the parts are the same." He thinks over the drag question, "More like something like a trans woman sometimes who hasn't had anything done, and sometimes not and sometimes sort of? Briar's definitely not in drag. It's more Briar expressing what's inside. I wish I could explain it better." He smiles crookedly, "I'll tell you basically what I told Cheer, which is there is no shame in making love. you have nothing to be ashamed of." He shakes his head, "I've not seen either of them. Sorry."

Dare and Fizz are standing right in front of the Rogue's door, Finn's back leaning against it. Right next to the door is a sort of nest made out of black body pillows and a jewel toned crazy quilt. Three books, a notepad, and a mechanical pencil have been abandoned there.


The Bon-Vivant is what the Rogue would recognize as how he wakes up, navy-blue silk pajama pants and nothing else, hair long and beard existent. He looks just like he did before the Lodge, at least when he hadn't yet decided how he felt like looking that day. The door to his own room has swung most of, but not all, the way shut, suggesting he probably emerged in a hurry and maybe not all that long ago. It's possible a questioning call was heard, though it's hard to predict just what sound will and won't get through the door at any given time. The proximity of the pair to the Rogue's room may also lead to a guess where he'd been bound.

"Well, fuck," he murmurs to the lack of those two appearing, and gives a small sigh. "And, well, I'm not exactly /ashamed/... I mean in all honesty, it was fun and I think I'd probably do it again. So I better not be. Just, it seems like it might kinda get awkward..." Now that he has a whole lot better frame of reference for THAT sort of thing, too.


The Rogue throws open his door looking bleary eyed -plural-, hanging in the doorway wearing pajama pants in olive drab, and a white t-shirt stretched on his previously skinny frame. He's not 20 and built like a skater running on caffeine and pop tarts. He's back to 35 and having the benefit of Caleb's body again, but alert and less weathered and less worn to the knuckles early.

A glance is given to Finn and back to -AH! The Rogue ducks low scooping Champ up in a fireman's carry over his shoulder, turns him around once before setting him back on the ground giving him a tight hug. "Eish, you're back." The wince holds for a moment. Checklist complete, and fears formerly expressed to Finn-ish abated. His hand pats the Bon-Vivant on the back of the head before letting him go realizing, eeeeeh that might be sort of assault? Yeah oops. Earnestly he greets, "Esquire," to the Martyr, and to BV asking, "Ho you holding up, boet?"


The Martyr nods, "At least you've never been married to your brother. I ran across that scenario earli-Eeep!." Dare falls on his ass as his back supports disappears and scurries crablike away from his nest lest he be trampled in the excitement.


The Bon-Vivant focuses at the faint sound of movement behind the door he'd originally been heading for -- he's still had a strand of attention focused there, and it was just enough to catch the sense the door was opening, but not, alas, enough to either register the imminent problem or warn Dare in time. Particularly not when before he knows it he's not even on his feet himself! The brightening that started on catching sight of the Rogue (and his full complement of eyes, though that may or may not have been noted) shifts into surprise, a decidedly startled yelp escaping as he finds himself suddenly up over shoulders and being spun. It turns into a delighted-sounding laugh by the time he's set back down, and he returns the hug fiercely, then adds in a kiss as his own contribution, a quick thing at the turn of the jaw, since it's so handily nearby in the hug.

"Boet," he greets the Rogue, giving him a grin that matches that laugh, "We're both here." All the less good things can hold on a few seconds, long enough for greetings, and long enough to ask Dare a touch sheepishly, "You okay?"


The Rogue just hugs his friend. The affection, however, doesn't get BV punched, but does win him a light pat to the side of his face. He taps his head against his, temple to temple a moment and pauses, looks over to Martyr and offers a hand out to help the poor bloke back up.

Is he okay? That gets a wobble of his head that settles in a nod, "Better than the time I lived, bru. Now that all my people are back," a slower nod of affirmation on that statement, perhaps even to assure himself, "Yeah. I'm... just catching up on some things Lyle couldn't or... tried to." There's a flinch, even in the man with a plan. Hey, no one comes out of these things unaffected. Lookin to BV again there's a longer look with a whole conversation unspoken. His hand squeezes his shoulder again. "For what it's worth, Champ? Proud of you for doin what you could with what you had. It's... fuckin hard. But hey, you kept me on my feet longer than I might've been otherwise. Consider myself one lucky sunnova bitch for it." And that earns a wink for the sheer novelty that he can now that his eye wasn't spelunked and dug out of his head. Looking to Finn-ish and back he asks, "You lads eat yet? I was coming to find, well, you, but as I've found you...?"


The Martyr is peering up at them amused, and gives a thumbs up and a smile at the query. Once he's sure he is safe from flying feet, he takes the hand and is up again, brushing himself off. "Ethan made it back?" He sounds hopeful and pleased for the Rogue. To Scott he says, "You really were amazing out there. It can't be said enough." He smiles, "I could eat, but if you'd rather catch up alone...?"


Fizz has, frankly, been taking the whole being back thing pretty well so far, though finding a Finn(ish) there first thing probably helped. Even so, there's something that's relaxed itself a bit now that he's found the Rogue as well. Or vice versa, depending how one looks at it. Either way, it's a small tension that shows more in being cleared than it did in being present. He looks inclined to offer a hand as well, and after a moment does so. Dare's got two, after all!

The compliments to his Scott-ness get a small duck of the head, though he doesn't blush. "He was just trying his best," he says, "...and it never felt anywhere near good enough. Not when you were still getting killed." For a moment, a haunted look flickers through his eyes, and he shakes his head, squaring his shoulders and throwing it off. It... feels fairly Scottlike, actually. "Food sounds good," he says, "For all of us." Dare gets a playfully stern look there, though he's not quite internally settled enough for it to be more than brief. "For the record, though? You were both pretty bitchin' yourselves." Hopefully not all the vocabulary is going to stick.


The Rogue pauses and listens. The words picked and chosen pull a slow flinch from the once-rancher as they pull Finn-ish off the floor. There's, well it's not a look of pity. Maybe it's regret or commiseration? It's hard to tell from the man that is always 'Fine.' A hand squeezes Camp's shoulder and offers, "Remember when you asked me about Prosperity and I told you I hoped you would never know that feeling? That's the feeling, boet. When you are out-manned, outgunned, and trying to keep everyone alive by the best of our wit and know in spite of everyone's best? There is absolutely no way to be entirely successful and even one loss feels too much. That world on our shoulders, boet. You did your best, and you did right by us. No shame in living."

At the compliment there is a flicker of a dimpled half-grin. The body might have belonged to Caleb, but that expression is entirely the kid that tried to wrestle a rabid raccoon and fall out of a tree trying to ride Big Jenny. Reckless and easy that one. "Wasn't a perfect loss on my part. I shoulda cleared the room. Still, man, fuck the Freak. And," He looks back to the Martyr with a look of supreme peace resting on him. "yes, Ethan made it back. Interesting story in that one. Trying to figure out what it means, but... we lost Dash. He wasn't here before so..." A glance between them offers possibility, "Some of us aren't wondering if there's not another facility like this one with others in it. Dini? Lucy? We've seen them in other lives."


The Martyr squeezes both hands, and then he's clasping Fizz's shoulder, "Never think it was your fault, Fizz. Just as I couldn't have saved Misty and you definitely couldn't have saved me. And you... did me proud in every possible way. I know you mourned me and how heavy that burden was, but I also saw you stepping up to do the things I would have done if I were there and a whole lot of things I couldn't. Not with that body. You were the best damned Scott you could be." He ducks his head a little in response to the glare, acknowledging he's been caught.

He must have caught something of The Rogue's expression as he gives him a rather quizzical look. But Ethan being back has him smiling, "I am very glad Ethan made it. I take it you already saw Colorado." He winces, "I haven't seen dash either, I'm sorry." He's not entirely sure which one was dash, but he knows all the people he has seen, so.... Wait, you've seen Dini before?"


The Bon-Vivant's shoulders are so squeezed! He seems perfectly happy with this fact. Less happy, perhaps, with the explication of 'that feeling'; the memory of it at the Lodge has had some subjective time to dim, but not enough for it to have gone away, even if the way he felt on bad days in that year has faded from emotion to fact. He can extrapolate the feelings, now; he has the experience to draw on that he didn't, before. He's pleased to see the flicker of that grin, but his mind's still sliding along that track. "None of us thought to back off," he admits, "Most of us moved in in case we could help..." That's why he did, anyway. He's just assuming it was true for the others as well. "...anyway."

Food, that was the plan, right? He starts leading the way toward the dining area, backward so he can still watch them. "I remember people suggesting that before, that maybe there are other places like this, that the ones who don't show up here are somewhere else."


The Rogue doesn't' get into his experiences as young Mr. Lucas, or how he grew up way too fucking fast in the 45 seconds after Roen died and the Freak showed up, or the choices he made in that time. The Rogue only nods in agreement. To Finn-ish he picks up falling back to a comfortable, factual casual, "Yeah. And Mo too...weirdly. It's harder for me to say as I never left our ship in space, bu Julian? He said as much which," he snappoints BV's way as they walk, his other hand itching his ribs through his t-shirt, "I need to get you to in a room to talk a some point."


The Martyr says quietly, "I didn't know the ghosts were coming to help, Fizz. If they hadn't, my plan was to try to taunt the Freak into showing and try to tackle it into that chair. With my unprotected body, so no one else would have to. Neither of you could have saved me then. Seconds before the jolt hit, I was saying goodbye to Danny. That gift he mentioned at the funeral. That wasn't an accident. My head wasn't in the best place and I couldn't have born it if someone else had had to do it." He peers at the Rogue. I'm not sure I follow most of that.


The Bon-Vivant is walking backward from the hallway, through the parlor, toward the dining room, ahead of the Martyr and the Rogue. He looks 5-10 years older than Scott did, with shoulder-length hair (though it's still notably well-behaved) and currently a short, well-trimmed beard, and he's wearing a pair of navy-blue silk pajama pants and nothing else, but he's still fairly recognizable as Scott, if one looks. Or at least maybe Scott's older brother. There's a similar energy to him; that helps.

"None of us knew, we just kinda hoped," he's saying to the Martyr, "...I-- Scott was thinking maybe if he shoved him with the chair leg, we could kind of pin him down and strap him in without anyone having to grab him? ...it wasn't much of a plan." There's that little shift again, the one that tended to go along with Scott being stubbornly Okay; Finn saw it more than once, back then. "Just tell me when, Boet. Who's Mo? And what do we want to eat?"


The Rogue walks a bit taller oddly at the mention of funerals with a curious look, "It's the one thing I didn't get to haunt I really wanted to; my own funeral." Looking back to Champ and the Martyr there's a wry grin and he notes, "Took my inheritance and changed my will two years before this when I died the first time, well... in there. Left everything to Ethan. He never fekkin knew. The blaggart never knew the entire time he carried on about. Always kinda amused me. Turns out that paid off. Partly," He nods to BV, 'in thanks to ou and Julian specifically or it'd never been possible to really set em on a better path there."

Still it all hangs on the Rogue walking out into the open with an odd caution, defenses going back up and mood pulling inward. This is Lyle Lucas, even older. Everything's fine(tm). Finally he brings that savvy hand up to point to his boet there with index and little finger out like he does, "Mo was he demon that held my family imprisoned in Prosperity... and helped raise me." Still mixed feelings on that one. "And it wouldn't have gotten that far, bru." says he to Finn(ish). "We went in knowing whoever laid hands on him was done for." His jaw tightened with a shrug, "'S why I fixed the machine. Eva, Roxie? Naw. But we knew the cavalry was coming with the ghosts. I'm just... grateful Ran got out and Alvin got his payback." Taking a deep breath he thought about that for too long as the melancholy started to grip a hold again. "Personal to too many of us." But Champ knows how to get to this guy and that faint grin picks up again, "Whatever it is, no more pudding. Eggs. So many fekkin eggs. I want french toast stacked as tall as me. Maybe put a -" Now he looks bewildered, "Why do I crave sugar like this?!"


The Martyr is wearing a purple linen poet shirt with a lot of neck and wrist ruffles open to display a bit of pasty chest and tight black on black paisley trousers with purple high top sneakers. The differences between the Martyr and Finn are subtle. He is the same age, with very similar hair, though slightly longer, and in a slightly different cut, and is still long limbed and gangling. Though he remains very thin, he is wiry with it instead of borderline emaciated. His dark eyes meet Scott's, "It was a selfish thought. I figured that out later when I'd sobered up, but at the time it felt like putting my body between harm and you all. In any case, it didn't matter. I fried anyway." He gives him a sad smile, "My point is, it's not Lyle's fault for not guessing what would happen when the Freak died, nor anyone else's, really. It all happened very fast and we were grieving and desperate. We were none of us thinking ahead more than a step.

He makes a little 'ah' sound, "I had no one to leave anything to before the Island. What little I had was willed to a local charity that helped AIDS patients. I doubt my family would have bothered with a memorial. I was already dead to them." He nods, "I was pretty sure it would have been it for me touching him. I just didn't figure out his dying act would be to try to fry the room." And then he's smiling, "I was just thinking French toast myself!" He shrugs, "Great Minds, maybe?"


Cracking her door open slowly, carefully, Lulu peeks out into the hallway. Seeing figures further down, she ducks back in and closes her door most of the way, not enough to actually let it click. She waits there, listening, breathing too quickly due to her nerves, heartbeating so hard and fast she can feel it in her ears. Occasionally, she peeks again, waiting until the hall is empty before stepping out into it.

She tries to be quiet as she pads in bare feet down the hall, moving much like she did at the Lodge, though there is nothing really for her to duck behind or hide. She makes her way down with a slightly hunched over posture, taking a few quiet barefooted steps, looking around cautiously, then taking a few more. Pressing herself against the wall when she hears the voices again. Lulu listens close, trying to get a sense of what they might talking about. Maybe they will give a clue of where she is, what she's doing here. Is she in danger? Is this heaven?

She looks very much like she did at the Lodge as well, though she is a bit more put together. Her hair is not the cascade of beach waves it was, but is swept back in a loose bun, soft wisps framing her face on either side. She still looks youthful, but gone is the black eyeliner and bubblegum lip gloss. It is replaced with a natural made-up look. She wears a dark pair of pinstriped wide-legged trousers that are tailored perfectly at her hips and waist and an off-white sweater, artfully altered to be sleeveless with large openings at her arms that give a bit of a peek at her figure from the side and a deep v-neckline. After listening a bit she only feels more confused. She recognizes those voices, sort of? Does she? Moving in slow motion, she pokes her head around the corner to get a look at the men she had seen in the hall.


The Bon-Vivant does sound a lot like Scott, still -- definitely his voice, and even the accent isn't far off. Still US west coast, leaning California, just not edging as far toward 'surfer' as the college student sometimes did. Mostly when he was less sober. "Because it's delicious?" he suggests to the Rogue, with a grin that's absolutely the same as Scott's when the world wasn't trying to kill them all. "Anyway, who doesn't like french toast? Oh, shit, or Belgian waffles with, like, strawberries and ice cream and whipped cream, I think I'm having that. Orange juice. ...or mimosas, that sounds good. I'm way more hungry than makes any sense right now." He hasn't noticed Lulu and her creeping yet, even though he's the one most facing that way. Too distracted by his companions and the potential of breakfast, perhaps. Or she's being effectively sneaky. Fair to say the Lodge was a good place to hone that skill.


The Rogue shoots a look to Finn blinking. Too matter-of-factly he corrects, "He knew. He knew since he and Julian figured that one out from the shed. Hell it's why he wore the AC/DC t-shirt, bru. Irony. That was his job though. He died once on that island in '87. He knew he weren't ever getting off of it. I had hope though to get Ethan out of there to start living." Looking to BV There's a more meaningful look that might be discussed later, or not. "You made that happen. I owe ya that, boet."

Still BV bringing the talk back to food brings an ear to ear grin, "I'm going to die this morning from eating my weight in carbs, eish!" The mood returns though he stops though. He doesn't turn around but he does stop. It's the most curious look on his face like something has changed and he can't begin to say what.


One of the doors in the hall way opens, one towards the end closest to certain peoples there at the end of the hallway. People that had been here before would know it was her door, probably. Age wise she's basically the same, mid-20s, blonde hair, those same blue eyes as always. But the posture is different, it is relaxed, calm. She is someone entirely comfortable in the skin she wears, even if her mind might be in constant flux.

Today Bravo has opted for style over comfort, even if she wears the clothes like they are as comfortable as sweats and a t-shirt. The low ponytail is the most simple thing, the rest is black leather pants spiked black heels, and a tuxedo style white button down worn beneath a black tuxedo jacket. When she spots the group moving towards the parlor she turns to start trailing along behind them, a hand tucking into the pocket of her jacket. Out from that pocket is a black cigarette holder, then a cigarette is tucked into it, "Anyone got a light?"


The Martyr's voice is exactly like Finn's was, and the way he walks and holds himself is very similar, though not quite as Finn did. "Remember how they used to serve Belgian waffles like that at Weekend brunch in the dinning hall and you could pour on all the toppings you liked?" He shrugs, "I figure we're making up for all the meals we missed fighting murder ghosts." He must be cheering up; he's pretending not to be enjoying Scott's torso.

He blinks twice, and then tries to pat the Rogue's shoulder. "It all happened incredibly fast. I refuse to blame the boy you were." Then he's giving The Rogue a quizzical look. He hasn't heard or sensed anything behind him at all, but then there's Bravo and he gives her a friendly wave, "Fizz made it back!"


Another door opens, causing Lulu to gasp and try to become one with a door. She is nearly panting now, her heart racing. She tries to be the one in control of her fear, but she isn't doing well. "Come on, Lulu," she thinks. "If this is heaven... what is there to be afraid of?" But maybe she's in a coma somewhere and this is just a dream. Dreams can turn to nightmares. She closes her eyes as she tries to calm herself, not getting a good look at Bravo before doing so. Maybe no one saw her, maybe.


The Bon-Vivant's torso is quite enjoyable, if one likes that sort of thing. So is Bravo's look today, and Fizz apparently likes that sort of thing, as well as just being (literally) happy to see her, because he finds a notch brighter to get as he spots her and looks the ensemble over. "Sorry," he greets her, "No pockets right now. Lookin' stylish, though." Her, not himself, by the tone. Looking that way, though, lets him finally spot the other person that direction, pressed up against the doors; it's not the best angle, but he pauses, leaning to try to get a better look. "...Lulu? Is that you?"


The Rogue lifts his eyes to Bunny. His thoughtful expression pulling into a wry grin, familiar for his once-lab partner. Instinctively his hand falls to the side pocket of his pants that... isn't there because he hadn't planned on needing to be proper dressed. "Bunny. Ja, lemme grab one." And then the greeting that goes over his shoulder pulling him to pivot on heel rather than just reverse pace. Seeing the other blond there both eyebrows arch. Well that he didn't expect to see. "Eish, Lulu?" He looks back to the other two blokes by him and back making sure hi posture stands down. Gently he offers, "Is a'ight, we ain't here to hurt you." The South African blended accent is utterly unable to be distinguishable from anything that might of ever come out of the skinny Cali skater boy she knew. Still he offers, "You knew us once. Lyle, that'd have been Scotty, and he was Finn, the lawyer. That back there is Bunny. Might have known her as Roxie... there. Just... feel free to take a minute." Introductions seem to be where he abruptly halts. No deluge of information, just a moment for the woman to process it. Don't worry, Bunny, that lighter's still forthcoming.


"This old thing?" The compliment is accepted with a dismissive preening, an easy smile curving her mouth upwards before her attention is drawn towards the Lover, but then to prove she did hear Martyr she glances at him, "So it seems...ran into others already, too. C's back...and Emily, and the security girl from the lodge." She wasn't always great about getting names, alright. But she moves out of the way for Rogue to go about finding a source of fire, and putting distance between herself and Lover, giving her the space she might need to not feel like she's about to be gobbled up by a ghost. Which means she just moves in the direction of the parlor to be out of the way, pointing out to Bon-Vivant when closer, "Like the beard."


The Martyr definitely enjoys that sort of thing, but he's a gentleman and trying not to be obvious about it. But there's Lulu. He holds his hands open and enough away from his body to be reasonably non-threatening. "It's okay, Lulu. I was pretty freaked out when I woke up here too, but it really is okay." At least he mostly does look and sound enough like Finn to be easily recognizable. He gives her a gentle smile, "No hugs?" Because sometimes playing against the mood can work. To Bunny, "Cassandra. Bastian and I met her when she first was out of her room and I saw Christine and Emily earlier. I hear Laine and Joshua are back, though I haven't seen them either." He studies Lulu with concern, "Is there someone we could try to get for you maybe?"


Her name! They called her name! Lulu's eyes open and she turns her head to look down the hall, leaning forward just enough to do so. She still looks really confused. "Lyle" has two eyes and looks totally older. "Scott's" hair is longer, and a beard? He didn't have a beard. Finn... well, he kinda just looks like Finn mostly, and "Bunny" does closely resemble Roxie, though she didn't know her super well. She doesn't leave her spot, doesn't move forward. "Where am I?" she breathes out. "How do you know me?" She seems not wholly convinced they are who they say, though she studies them closely to see how much of her friends are really there within these people. When Finn mentions hugs, her lips twitch slightly and her arms slide around herself, still not quite calm enough to approach and hug him. "Get? Who?" Her voice starts to tremble and she stops talking. She will not cry. She will not.


The Bon-Vivant looks older too, for what it's worth. Not as much older as Lyle, though! He gives the Bravo a grin for the compliment, and a quiet, "Yeah? Maybe I'll keep it today. ...it's nice seein' you." Always the potential he wouldn't, after all. And a year of a version of him being quite sure of it.

He looks toward Lulu again, giving her a somewhat gentler smile. "It's complicated," he says, "but we were at the Lodge with you. Fighting the ghosts and everything. Now we're here. It's weird, but... I dunno if it's necessarily weirder than going on vacation and having to fight ghosts and defeat an alien god-monster-lake thing to save the world? ...we did, by the way." Well, /he'd/ want to know. He's really not sure how to explain any of this to someone who's freshly new from a first Encounter; it was confusing enough when he tried it with someone who was arriving in the same state he had.


The Rogue seemed content to let Lulu take as much earthly time as she needs here. The accent is... not Lyle, and the only think remarkably close is really just the expressions, the hair, and the physical mannerisms. How to explain, "We had a shared experience, the Lodge. You, Addison and I used to hang out at the front desk. You're like... one of three people I think ever hugged me. I remember you. You... were kind." Wow, one of three. Little telling on his life there. Let's move past that.


It is probably not meant to be a slight, not talking to Lover, but instead an allowance for her to process the hard information that others are already delivering. Monsters, ghosts, death and the world's worst vacation. Instead she addresses first Bon-Vivant, nodding in agreement, "Yeah." She reaches a hand out and without asking reaches over to take an experimental scritch of the beard. Then she adds, "It makes you look distinguished."

Then she turns her attention back towards the frightened one, tucking the cigarette and holder into a pocket, "If you come out of the hallway we can get you something to drink...there is anything in the world you want. I suggest a good stiff whiskey, though, to get your nerves settled. Then coffee, because your nerves really need to be steady to handle this place the first time...being here after one of the stories."


The Lover stares at BV, "Scott" as she knew him. Her eyes shift then to "Lyle". When he mentions Addison, her eyes go wider again and she bites the corner of her lip. She glances to "Roxie" then, then back to Scott and Lyle. "Am I a.... ghost?" Whiskey. Whiskey sounds good. Her eyes slip down to the ground as she lets what she's been told sink in. She looks up again to Lyle then suddenly rushes at him, the tears starting to stream down her face as she means to attack him in nothing more brutal than a hug.


The Bon-Vivant lifts his chin slightly and half-closes his eyes at the beard-scritch, like a happy cat. Permission is apparently not required; this version of him doesn't seem any more averse to being touched than the one at the Lodge. He looks both pleased and a touch amused at the idea of looking distinguished, but that can be addressed later, once Lulu's in a better spot.

"You're not a ghost," not-quite-Scott says, tone gentle but definite. That much he's certain of, at least, and isn't it nice to have something that isn't a maybe? Okay, maybe he can't technically be certain they're not ghosts, but he is anyway. It's weirdly relieving to see her going for that hug. He glances to Bravo, and then starts to move toward the dining room again, maybe a little bit more slowly. That whiskey probably IS a decent idea.


The Rogue, being brawnier than his former skinny skateboarding self, catches his assailant in arms and offers her a careful bearhug. "Hey, hey it's weird, like he says you're not a ghost. It was scary as hell. I get you. I get you. We're gonna figure it all out together. For now?" His cheek rests on hte side of her head with a heavy sigh short on answers, just heavy on weird life experiences and his off-continent accent. "For now know you are in good company and it's not happening to you alone, alright?" The breath he had been holding gets let out. He points to the door now just behind her, "I'm going to go grab a lighter as promised, and we'll figure this out, ja?" Unlike before the brimstone and whatnot he held before this last lifetime seems to have taken a much more distant back seat. At least some of his positive attitude wasn't totally fried by Freak. Looking back to BV and Bravo he goes to speak, stops with a fond odd half grin and says to her, "Sec I'll grab that up for you."


Whiskey really is a good idea. Bravo spends a half-second making sure that it's just a hug before she turns to head towards the dining room, taking a quick step or two to catch up with Bon-Vivant, "We were able to see some of the things that happened, after the death thing." It's spoken quietly, letting Rogue sort out Lover for the time being. His promise to go grab something is missed as being addressed to her about the lighter, the cigarette now back in her pocket and forgotten for the moment. Despite moving away from the others she still takes a moment to lean in, voice dropping to a whisper for second.


The Pedagogue steps into the parlor from the hall of rooms, looking like bits of young Ethan Drake are still clinging to him, despite his being some 15 years older. His short hair is sleep-mussed, and he's in pajama pants and a black tee, sadly lacking an 80s metal band logo. He's barefoot, and there is a blue swatch watch on his left wrist. He looks barely awake.


The Lover holds on tight to Lyle as he talks to her. She nods and as he lets her go to head to that door, she reaches for Scott to hug him next. She'd rush after him, trying to grab his arm if she can. If she is able to snag him for a hug, she holds him tight. He was one of those she looked to for comfort and calm at the Lodge. She is trembling now, not talking, but soon, he slips away to head towards food with Bravo and she stands there, arms slipping around herself again. Her watery eyes lift to "Ethan" and she stares a bit dumbfounded, feeling a bit numb.


The Bon-Vivant gives a small nod to the news about being able to see some things; apparently, someone's mentioned that factor to him already. Whatever's whispered, though, gets a blink, and-- well, he doesn't blush, but someone more prone to it might. He more looks faintly sheepish, and has just managed to murmur something back to the Bravo when the Lover catches his arm, stopping him on his way. A flicker of startlement turns into a soft laugh, and he twists to give her that hug, pulling her in close and tight. It's a very Scott hug, really, familiar from another life, though he didn't have silk pyjama pants in that one. ...might well've been topless, though. These things happen. His hair's about shoulder length, he's got a short, trim beard, and he's 5-10 years older than he was at the Lodge. But it's still fairly recognizably him. When he releases Lulu from the hug and steps toward the dining room, he tilts his head to her invitingly, and offers a hand. "C'mon. Let's get you that drink." A pause, catching sight of Ethan, and he gives the guy a crooked version of the grin. "Hey. Come to join us for breakfast?"


The Rogue disappears for a short bit to fetch his lighter and at least swap out his pj's for those comfortably broken in cargo pants that have been with him since he was just a savager on the Heph. Somehow utility seems entirely natural to him. He washes his face really quick and just takes one more moment to dry his face and heads back out dropping the lighter in pocket.

There is, when he returns from the hall, and seeing who is in front of him some semblance of raw mischief that splits his face into a grin reaching up into his eyes again. Finger goes over lips to ask anyone seeing the Rogue sneak up on the poor professor to shoosh. He picks his moment and with as much ability to startle the Pedagogue as possible (and possible getting hit for it) does he greet, poking him on either side, "Hey!" Asshole. He is still....in his heart of hearts somewhere, still a 20 year old little punk sneaking up on raccoons. The grin holds hough, "You saved me the trouble of bringing coffee back." He gestures up to the group and BV's invite, "You awake enough to eat real food?"

There is a very smug smile for Bon-Vivant, but she doesn't whisper anything back to him now that Lover has come over for her hug, instead she just shrugs her shoulders, informing him, "I've something to show you." There is an unsubtle implication that whatever she wants to show him is for him. But that she's not in any hurry to cut him from the herd at the moment. Instead she turns her attention towards Lover, "What is the food or drink you're missing the most? Anything you want....if you could choose it, what would it be?"

Important questions. Although she's waiting on the answer she's moving again, fully assuming that everyone is going to be coming along to the dining room.


The Pedagogue is unawares as Rogue gets up to some dastardly mischief and he lets out a yelp, wheeling on his assailant. He grunts when he realizes who it is, and punches him in the shoulder. "Asshole." Then he kisses his forehead. Aw. "Feed me Seymour," is mumbled groggily. "Just dump the coffee on my head, so it'll work faster." He gives a small smile to the others. "Hey, uh, not-Scott?....not-Roxie? Not-Lulu?"


At BV's invite, Lulu nods and takes his hand, walking along with him and Bravo now. She looks like she might break out in tears again any moment, but tries to keep them off. The wide leg of her pants sweeps the floor as she walks, not seeming to mind being barefoot in the slightest. She lifts her gaze to look at "Roxie" and for some reason, finds it really hard to think about food. She is though, she's trying. A picture of an item flashes in her mind and she tries to follow it along to gather the other pieces until she is able to make it whole before saying in a quiet voice, lacking the usual perkiness she tried to hold onto at the Lodge, "strawberry shortcake? With real shortcakes, like the biscuit kind, not the spongey things." "Ethan's" yelp makes her jump with a gasp and turn swiftly back to him. She studies him, trying to reconcile this version of him with the one she sorta knew at the Lodge. "I'm... just Lulu."


The Bon-Vivant cocks his head at the Bravo's informing, giving her a sidelong look and somewhat intrigued little half-smile. "All right," he says, a touch more of Scott's surfer-influence bleeding into it, and he gives the Lover's hand a squeeze, leading her toward the dispensers.

"Dude, that sounds good," he says to Lulu, in a tone that suggests he may be seriously considering whether to revise his earlier breakfast plan, before the Rogue's 'attack' and the resulting yelp make him snicker. 'Not-Scott' gets a small laugh as well, and he considers a moment, glancing briefly at the Lover before putting off the whole 'name' question and saying toward Ethan, "Hey. Lulu just got here." The Pedagogue can work out what that suggests, right? If not, maybe, "We just got past the part where she /does/ know us and we're not ghosts," will help out. Then again, pre-coffee, who knows?


The Rogue is slugged. Soundly. That squirrely grin suggests he is very aware he deserved that. It's the small bits of normalcy grasped at that may keep some going? Who can say. Hey, the man has somehow, at some point being a 20 year old dipshit, learned a sense of humor. His arm half loops around his partner in crime and turns to steer him onward toward foodage. "Ja ja, I hear ya. We got ya." He does Lulu the service of explaining the no longer long-feathered hair, coverall clad and now very cleaned up passably responsible adult looking cohort, "Lulu, Ethan." He pulls out the brass zippo from his pocket that had a name or something on it and has since been worn nearly smooth. It's held between his fingers and with a squeeze and a pop holds it out for the Bravo. "Did not forget." He lights it for her announcing, "I'll be back with coffee." Because while he is a perennial scoundrel he's still got some damn manners.


"We can handle that." By we she means the little dispenser machines can handle it. When Rogue finally produces the lighter she pulls the cigarette in its holder from her pocket to take the light, offering him a quick smile. It's all very Breakfast at Tiffany's, except for the little black dress part.

It isn't until Pedagogue is close enough that she shakes her head at him, "Not-Roxie. I'll answer to it, but I don't feel like I was her." Which she is entirely aware is not how some people feel, but how others might. The end of the cigarette holder is tucked into her mouth, teeth catching on it as she moves to one of the other dispensers to get the much required whiskey while someone else sorts out the strawberry shortcake situation.


"If it helps," Pedagogue notes to Lulu, "I think maybe I am actually Ethan Drake. I've been him twice now. Maybe that means he's my true identity? Just let me know what I should call all of you." He leans into the Rogue's arm around him and scrubs at his face tiredly. "The one benefit of being here, no matter how bad we trash a room, it's all fixed the next day." As they head for the dispensary he mutters, "No pudding or poptarts, I think I've had a lifetime's worth. I want some bacon and eggs and homefries and toast dammit."


The Lover looks to Scott at his explanation. She still doesn't know where "here" is, but she nods. Lifting her hand in a half-hearted wave to Ethan, Lulu says, "hey um... hi." She tilts her head to regard Roxie when she says she doesn't feel like her, but she doesn't ask. Her brow creases though, another layer to the confusion. Turning towards Ethan once more, blinking a couple of times. She says again, "I'm Lulu..." She walks with them again though nothing is making anymore sense. Her eyes might be stuck open that wide now, her thoughts shifting from possibility to possibility of what this could all be, all mean.


The Bon-Vivant is clearly not very good at giving hints. He is at least good at working the dispensers, and only needs the one hand to persuade /proper/ strawberry shortcake out of it. It looks and smells damn good, and he looks a bit covetous at it before offering it to Lulu. It's got a spoon. All ready to be eaten. "So," he says reluctantly, rather than leave the Lover steeping in confusion -- or at least not the current version of it -- and then pauses anyway, offering, "Wanna sit down?" Strawberry shortcake and whiskey, breakfast of champions. She should at least get the latter to cushion this stuff, right?

He waits until she has the drink, and starts again. "So. The truth is, we don't totally know what this place is. We do know nothing attacks us here, at least. At some point every day, we all get tired and fall asleep at once. And then we all wake up back in our rooms, back in whatever we always wake up in, and any messes we made or anything like that is back to normal. When I cut my hair, or shave, it's back like this in the morning. It's weird. Kind of everything here is weird. That's part one." He watches her, to see how she's taking it so far. Try not to think about the implication that, if this is part one, it might well be the less weird portion. He still doesn't address the name issue, yet.


The Rogue looks over his shoulder with a squint and dry wit, "I can't get you pop tarts or pudding because you and Julian ate all mine. Ain't none left." Not actually bitter there but he does send a time making the dispensary do some things giving Champ a grin and a nudge taking one of the 'attempts' at strawberry shortcake off his tray noting "That one looks funny. Try again." Dirty little thief. Still he comes back with enough scrambled eggs to threaten the future of chicken populations with all manner of veggies in there and...huh masala. Masala scramblero. Coffee, bacon, and a half of a strawberry shortcake and two forks. Chewing he sets it down and drops int a seat next to Bedlam Boy Numero uno and starts into breakfast. At Champ/Not-Scott/Fzz's assessment there is a slow nod of agreement and approval of taking things with baby steps.


Whiskey for Lover, but coffee for herself. Bravo skips the actual food portion of breakfast and sticks with the coffee as she moves towards the table along with the rest. It's a neat little dance, and by neat it possibly edges right into the weird and awkward because she does her very level best to find a spot next to Bon-Vivant. Why? There are things that are required, that whispering from earlier being one that she'll need to pick up.

Multi-tasking, though, she has accomplished through her memories of Roxie, and she adds onto the subject of here. "You can't die here, either. Even if you....do die, you'll wake up fine. Like when you cut your hair or do something along those lines."


Ethan has his tray loaded with real breakfast, hometown goodness. If somewhere in Oregon was actually his hometown. Homefries, toast, fried eggs, bacon, coffee. He settles in next to Rogue and stuffs his face. Someone is not a morning person. Omnomnomnom. "So, what's with that radio in the parlor?" he asks after he's consumed enough coffee to be considered human again. "Where'd the tv go?"


The Lover takes the shortcake in her free hand, staring at it as if she's never seen such a thing before. She has to release his hand to get the whiskey, following him to a table to sit down. She sets the shortcake and whiskey in front of her, but doesn't try to eat or drink them yet. Her eyes locking on Scott's when he begins to try to explain things to her. He talks about his hair and she looks up at the locks that are longer than she remembers him having. Her hand lifts to rub her chin as he speaks about shaving. "So, I'll just wake up naked and alone? Every day?" She pauses, then asks, "Part one?" The others do not escape her attention. She glances their way from time to time. Roxie's comment gets another furrowed brow look. She does not seem wholly convinced she is not caught in some dream or nightmare just yet. After a moment, she asks, "so like, this is how I am, like, every day? Is it like, deja vu?"


The Bon-Vivant snags a shortcake for himself before he sits, and at Lulu's question, he pauses a moment. "...if you woke up naked, then yeah, you're always gonna wake up naked, as far as I know. And," there's a hint of a sigh in it, and a flicker of a glance across the table at the Rogue, "doesn't matter where you are when sleep comes, you want up in your own room. Which means, yeah. Always alone. I'm sorry." He is. He hates that part. Even more now than he did before the Lodge, and he wasn't real fond of it then. "It's not quite deja vu, though. I mean, we can dress differently after we wake up, we can do different things. Eat different things. We remember what happened the day before and all that. Just, stuff resets. And-- yeah. Part one."

He eyes his shortcake a moment, then takes a bite. Well, it's definitely good. He makes a not completely intelligible but completely approving noise, before he feels he has to get back to the rest. "...part two. Once in a while, when we go to sleep, we don't wake up here. We wake up somewhere else, and we wake up /someone/ else. I was here before I was at the Lodge, and when I'm here, I go by Fizz. Short for Felix." Because he says so. "And I'm-- there's kinda a lot of Scott in me, I think. But some people are probably gonna be more different than what you're used to from them. And some people have been a few different people in a few different places, already." He pauses, studying her, and says carefully, "I'm not saying you're not Lulu. But you're not /only/ Lulu."


Ethan grunts and finishes up his food at the speed of a starving 21 year old worried it might get hoovered by his bestie if he pauses. It'll take a while to come back from being that Camaro-driving bad boy. "I'm gonna go get showered and dressed and jot down some notes." He glances over at Rogue with a grin. "Coming?" Then he heads back to the hall of doors.


New Activity ---------

The Rogue pauses finishing some eggs. Bacon halfway to his maw he just stops. That eyebrow arches. Well that is a hell of an offer. Oookay then! Shit he ain't even ashamed to answer, "Yup. I'll catch you up." He does stop and dig his lighter out to set it out in front of Bravo with a wink. Hey it'll be back in his room at reset. "Champ, later? We'll make time. We got some catchup to cover. Glad I am to see you, boet." That paramount in its importance there. Looking to Lulu he pauses and offers, "You know which door is mine if you need to knock on it. I know it's likely scary for some right now but feel free to give it a knock." That said he stuffs his face with the rest of his half of that masala scrambled egg, pockets the pop tart and takes the coffee with him to shuffle on back to the hall of many rooms.


"I wake up in clothes...but yeah, I guess you'll wake up naked if that's your thing." Bravo offers with a shake of her head, the cigarette in her hand is finally finished, and she stubs it out on the table before dropping the cigarette holder into her pocket. "Some people here have had many different...lives, stories, roles, whatever you want to call it. Some of us haven't." She glances at B-V at that, then back to Lover, "I'd like to say it gets easier, but I think it's all a matter of you, and how you handle it. Everyone is so across the board with the way they handle things." With her cigarette out, and her hand free once more she reaches for the coffee in front of her, picking it up to take a careful sip off it before she lowers it, "Lyle likes to call me Bunny." Since people are supplying names. "I tried it out, before, and it's stuck for him. I don't think anyone else uses it. But I'll answer to that one, too." There is a quick smile for the lighter that is left for her.


She really doesn't like being alone anymore. Scott would know that about her. It's not something she had issue with before her time at the Lodge, but something shifted during that whole fiasco. Lyle might have known it too, from when she explained her lack of sleep during those talks in the Great room. She listens then to part two, but when he reaches the end, she looks at "Fizz" incredulously. "I certainly only feel like Lulu... Feel like only Lulu..."

Ethan gets up and she waves to him before looking at Lyle. "I do?" She didn't really notice the doors much. She nods anyway, as he seems eager to join Ethan. Looking to Roxie then she nods. "I woke up that way this morning. Morning? Is it morning? I haven't seen a window...." She quiets again to listen to Bravo's own experiences more. She nods softly then, as if just remembering there is a strawberry shortcake and whiskey in front of her, she takes the glass in hand and lifts it to her lips for a sip. That one sip becomes a hearty drink, though she doesn't guzzle it.


The Bon-Vivant glances after Ethan with that invitation, and then toward the Rogue, eating a bite of the strawberry shortcake as he does. They're all seated at a table in the dining area, the Lover and the Bravo all put-together and the guys all in their pajamas, it would seem. In BV's case, that's navy silk pajama bottoms, with his hair about shoulder length (but still behaving itself, somehow) and a short, trimmed beard. He's sitting beside the Bravo, and across from the others; it's easier to talk to Lulu that way. That glance at the Rogue turns into a small nod when the man accepts the offer and starts hurrying to go, and a quick little smile at the 'later'. "Well, you know my door."

He shifts slightly in his seat, glancing to the Bravo. "Did you decide against Bunny? I kinda liked it." He looks to Lulu again, and reaches over to give her forearm a light rub. "If it helps any, you'll only be alone when you wake up, for as long as it takes you to find someone else. And there's a lot of us. It sucks, but there's nothing we've figured out to fix it. There aren't any windows, so time's kinda... morning's when we woke up recently." He's not really sure how to address the feeling like only Lulu portion, so for now, he just... doesn't.


The Addict emerges from the hall of rooms in time to offer Rogue a smile in passing. They're wearing a maxi-dress today, wild swirls of fuchsia and white, with beading and sequins to give the dress shimmer. The neckline is high, and it's sleeveless. Their hair is piled on their head and pinned up, and they've shaven today. They've got smoky eyes and glossed lips. It's like being Danny was so masculine they've swung feminine to balance things out.

"Caleb, hello," they say. Then they see BV and Lover, and they sweep in for hugs. "Lulu, Champ! I'm so glad to see you!" Bravo gets a kind look. "How are you doing? That was your first lifetime, wasn't it? Can I hug you? You didn't seem to want hugs last time we met." This is not Danny. There are glimpses of Danny in them, but this is not Danny.


"You can call me that." Bravo seems perfectly willing to let B-V call her that, which brings the tally up to two people who have been given the approval to stick with the name Bunny. A very grand list of people, so far. The smile that accompanies the agreement to it is amused, easy before she glances at Lover again, nodding along with what is said, "You might wake up alone, but you don't have to remain alone. You don't even have to go to sleep alone if you don't want to. It's just that somehow, over the night...we always end up back where we started."

The shrug that is offered is almost apologetic for that fact. Despite it being out of her actual control. When Addict appears she glances over, fully recognizing the face if not the choice of clothing. When the question of a hug is asked she glances around, then points to herself, asking if the hug question was directed towards her before she lifts her shoulders easily, seeming to be fine with the idea of a hug it seems.


The Rogue turns on heel with a bit of panache. Roxie gets that winning grin, "Ah, but those slippers wear so well on you, Bun." There's a pause though and he tells Lulu, "Yeah m'door is the one with the sneaky lookin bloke in a cloak." The one he ducked into for the lighter but there seems to be no expectation of anyone remembering that. Well, except one. He just watches BV for a long moment. Completely disjointed he watches him back. "Got a surprise for you later, Champ. If you're able to make up some time for me?" He pivots to turn and lets his gaze follow Briar in, "Looking sharp. Colour suits you."


The Lover nods to Scott as he rubs her forearm then to BravoRaxieBunny as she agrees, she doesn't have to be alone long. Taking a bite of her shortcake then, finally, she seems to find it either tastes -really- good or she just realized how hungry she is after not eating since she woke in her room what seems so long ago. She starts to devour the thing, not in a barbaric way, but bite after bite in as polite a way as possible. When Addict comes by, she stares. She doesn't mean to be rude, but she is still very confused by this whole people-who-look-like-people-but-different thing. She's looking then to the others. Caleb? Who is Caleb? Who is Champ? "Oh, right," she says to Rogue before looking almost panicked. Does she even know her own door? She didn't really pay attention to that earlier.


It IS good strawberry shortcake. It's really good, in fact. Fizz gives the Rogue a quick grin for the promise of a surprise, and answers, "Always," as the man heads away. Bunny's permission to call her that gets a grin out of him, and he leans slightly to bump her shoulder with his, a familiar little movement to see from him.

He's had some warning, but the Addict's appearance still surprises him a bit -- though not, apparently, in a bad way. "Briar!" Yup, definitely warned. He gives them a full-on grin, one of those expressions that makes it extremely easy to see the Scott in him, and returns that hug fiercely, drawing them in close. He may be taking this all reasonably well so far, overall, but it's hard to let go of that feeling of dead friends coming back to him. Even if they're not quite how he left them. "Lookin' good," he says, when he lets go, and he notes to Lulu, "Briar was Danny," just in case she's not quite sure she's right, "but like I said, some of us are kinda more different here than others." He's apparently caught the confusion with the names, since he adds, "Caleb is the name Lyle had in an Encounter -- Chance, he was Derek, he calls them Encounters -- before the Lodge, so some people call him that. And /he/ calls me Champ, because when I first got here, I didn't have a name at all. And my door is the one with a guy opening a bottle of champagne on it."


The Addict steps over to Bravo to give her a hug. "I'm going by Briar now," they say. Gone is Danny's Cali boy accent. Briar sounds like they're from Jersey with a pit stop in Brooklyn. "I'm sorry if I was a lech at you," they say. "Danny never learned shame. You are beautiful, though. He was right about that." They offer Lulu a smile, but they don't push the hug. They merely turn to Champ to hug him fiercely. "I hated leaving you," they murmur. It's an emotional reunion.

Drawing back, they say to Lulu, "I'm gender fluid. Danny wasn't, not even a little. I hope you don't think less of me for it. Chance says there's nothing wrong with it, and in the future, they don't even care anymore."


The hug is returned, "There isn't any reason to apologize." Bravo replies, accepting the apology at the same time she brushes it aside. Unneeded. Anything that happened at the Lodge seems to have been left at the Lodge. For the most part, at least, she seems to have divorced herself from who Roxie was and what she went through.

Since the others seem to be handling so much of the situation with Lover and her trauma, and getting back into things here, she just returns part of her attention to listening, and sipping her coffee. With the addition of one fact, "You'll find that some people feel very strongly about what they are called. Others....don't. Some stick to names from the stories, others make up their own to claim as theirs."


Watching all the hugging, the remade connections, the emotions, has Lulu wrapping one arm around herself as she bites her lip. Her other hand reaches for the whiskey again. Releasing her lip from her teeth she takes a drink. Setting the glass back down carefully, as if it is the most fragile item in the world and she could break it almost with her breath, let alone the table. "Hi D... Briar." She nods to Scott. Fizz. "Caleb is Lyle... Chance is Derek.. you are Fizz... Danny is Briar... Roxie is sometimes Bunny, sometimes not-Roxie, and I am just Lulu." Just. Lulu. Briar's talk of being gender fluid confuses her. It's not a term she is super familiar with, if at all. She can guess at what it means though, given their appearance. She shrugs, but then says again, as if reminding herself, "Chance is Derek. Was." Eyes settling on Bravo again, she asks, "What do you prefer?" Another sip of whiskey is taking, the little bit that is left in the glass gets a swirl before she sets it down again.


"I hated you leaving," Fizz murmurs back to Briar, and the smile is smaller. "I'm glad you're here." He gets back to eating that strawberry shortcake, fairly swiftly, and gives Lulu an encouraging nod at her arrangement of the names. "Right," he says, "...and some people you'll probably hear given a few different names, but you kinda get used to it." Now that there's a break in the hugging, he lets his free hand rest down on his leg for the moment. "I know it's a lot at once, and it's kinda... well, it can't be easy coming right after the ritual and all." You know. Dying. "But you're doing really well. It's kind of a mindfuck for everyone." Changing realities has not made his vocabulary any more genteel. "Wanna join us for breakfast, Briar?"


The Addict kisses Fizz on the cheek. Then they go to the dispensers to get a cup of coffee and a chocolate croissant. They come back to the table and sit near Lulu, but they give her space in the form of an empty chair. "Chance can explain gender fluidity," they say. "The short version is I feel like I'm somewhere between male and female. It changes from day to day. Danny was such a boy. It's really not that big of a deal. I'm still me. I still care about you." They take a sip of coffee and sigh with delight. Caffeine. "When I first woke up, after my first lifetime, it was downright traumatic. Took awhile to get used to."


"Not-Roxie isn't..." Bravo starts, but then she just stops and shakes her head, leaving it be for some reason. Instead she looks a little puzzled for a second, "What do you mean...what do I prefer as a name? An identity?" She shakes her head a fraction, "I don't feel an attachment to any name yet. Two people call me Bunny, and that's fine. That's for them. You can call me Roxie if it is easier, like I said, I'll answer to it. But I don't exactly feel strongly about it."


Penny comes a padding into the parlour once again, slacks and loose fitting tank top combo still going strong. She's got a book tucked under one arm and meanders over towards the book gave, giving her simple little smile at the gathering of people present. "Hello," she offers in that simple, pleased kind of way she has as she sets the book on the shelf and begins to scan the volumes for a replacement of some kind or another.


Her hand runs over her stomach, lifting then to her slender neck. "I tried finding, scars or something. I couldn't. I know what happened though. I was there." Duh. "That's why I thought this must be heaven, or a dream." She shrugs, looking down to the whiskey glass again. "It's not easy," she agrees before looking back to Briar when they explain gender fluidity. She shrugs again, she doesn't seem to think of it as a big deal either. She is far more troubled by, well, just about everything else she is learning. Nodding towards Roxie she says, "yeah.. name. Identity, what have you." She nods again, at least she knows she can remember "Roxie" and not confuse it with something else.

Lulu looks very much like she did at the Lodge, just a more put-together version of her. She takes another bite of strawberry shortcake, some whipped cream clinging to her lip as she looks up to see "Emily", trying to see if this is another person she might know or not. She lifts her hand, waving to her.


That kiss gets a warm little smile, and the arrival of the Penitent gets a quicker but broader one. "Hey!" he replies to her greeting. He looks like he did before the Lodge -- older than Scott, and currently in his pajama pants. Eating strawberry shortcake at a table in the dining area, with the others. He glances around at each of the other faces, then briefly toward the hall before asking, "...any of you seen Sonya, yet?"


The Addict shakes their head and says, "I haven't seen her, no." She looks up at Penitent and says, "Good morning, I think. How're you?" They nibble on their croissant, dainty with the crumbs. "To be honest," they tell Lulu, "we don't know that it's not some kind of afterlife. I mean it's improbable, but it's not something we can rule out. I don't have any theories. There's not enough data."


When Penny arrives there is a smile for her, but Bravo seems fairly quiet as she sips at her coffee. When there is a question about Sonya there is a shake of her head, "I haven't, but I imagine there are still some people that are not coming out of their rooms just yet." The matter of afterlife, well, that theory is just accepted with a shrug, "We can't die here, so maybe. Too many possibilities in the end."


Glancing back towards the group from her spot, Penitent decides to wander on over, offering Lover a surprised smile. "Oh, Lulu. You're here too. I'm sorry about that." She moves towards Bravo, glancing at the woman and lingering nearby as she looks at the others. "I'm fine." She admits to Addict, nodding her head, and giving that Emily-style finger wiggle of a wave to Bon-Vivant. "No, I haven't seen Sonya. I haven't seen a lot of people, yet." Considering the talk on theories, she nods a little. "It's been considered, but I don't know why the afterlife would take away our memories and then have us live snippets of other lives in some of their seemingly worst moments. Or," she considers Bravo and Bon-Vivant, "Why some would get to show up with literally no memories at all while others seem to get dropped in mid ... snippet."


The Lover shakes her head, her tongue sticking out to flick that bit of whipped cream off her lip. "I haven't." But Fizz would know that, he's one of the first she has seen. Her head tilts as she considers Briar's words. "How many," it occurs to her to ask. "Like, times? Encounters? How um, many have you had?" She files that information in her mind. What Roxie says. Something to remember, to think of. "I-" she starts to greet Emily, but the apology throws her off a bit. "I um, hi. Yeah, I am here." She pauses then says almost cautiously, "Emily? Or... do you like a different name too?"


The Bon-Vivant makes a bit of a face at all the 'no' answers, and fails not to look a bit worried. "Thanks. If you do, let me know?" He finishes off the last of his shortcake, and studies the bowl a moment as if it might magically refill itself. Sadly, that is not one of the many strange behaviors of the place.


There is a smile for the lingering Penny, then Bravo starts to get to her feet, a hand dropping to B-V's shoulder, "Come on, now that everything is calmer. I got something to show you." There is a flash of an apologetic look at the others, then with or without Bon-Vivant coming with her she starts to move away from the table, first towards Penny to give her a hug and a kiss. Not any kind of cheek kiss either. Then she's moving on towards the doors that lead to anywhere your heart imagines. Evidently what she wants to share is in one of those rooms.


"I've lived two lives," Briar tells Lulu. "The first time, I was a wealthy scion of a cursed family in 1902, Nevada. My name was Martin, and I was repressed." They gesture vaguely with their coffee cup. "Then I woke up here, gender fluid and confused. Chance told me there was nothing wrong with me. Then I was Danny. I can tell he's affected me, but I still feel like myself. Just not so anxious as I used to be. I know there's been others with more lives than mine."


"Four, for me," Penitent says quietly to Lover's question on how many times. She doesn't go into details though. It'd be a lot of information to cover, and she nods a little. "And you can call me Emily, if you like. I'll answer to any of the names I've had, but never chose anything else to claim for myself." There's an attempt at a reassuring smile for Lulu, before she's returning that hug and kissing Bravo for a moment, giving a small smile afterwards. "Lupe and I are going to head to the old west sometime and rob a train. You want to come along maybe?" She grins, and shifts aside then to claim Bravo's old seat. Waving at Bravo and Bon-Vivant though, she nods. "If I spot her I'll make sure you know about it!" She says about Sonya.


The Lover is listening to everyone speak, watching Fizz look forlornly at his strawberry shortcake. She hasn't quite grasped that she can get absolutely anything she wants. She smiles at him and says, "maybe they will make more soon." Roxie rises up, kissing Emily and inviting Fizz to some with her. "Leaving?" she asks, looking a little frightened. She takes a breath and nods, forcing a small smile. "Thank you," she says to them both. "I hope to see you soon." She means it. She nods to Briar again. "Nothing wrong with you, you mean, because you are um, gender... fluid? Nothing wrong with that." Just because she doesn't know current terms or lingo or... norms doesn't mean she's closed minded. She blinks at Emily and asks, "four? That seems so many. Who is Lupe?"


The Bon-Vivant is a complete sartorial mismatch to the Bravo, but doesn't seem to care -- if it even crosses his mind. One hopes she isn't taking him to the Opera. "If you guys don't mind?" he says as he rises, and he moves to claim some more hugs, good tight ones, from Briar and Lulu. They each get a kiss, as well, though in this particular case it /is/ a cheek kiss for the former, and top of the head for the latter. Other types may well be available if requested. "Remember my room's the one with the guy with the champagne bottle on it," he tells Lulu quietly, "okay?" The Penitent's offered a hug as well, before he follows the Bravo curiously to and through that door.


The Addict tilts their cheek up to the kiss and they smile at BV. "Take care, you two," they say. To Lulu, they say, "Lupe was Max at Beaver Lake." They then say, "I took Dare, who you would've known as Finn, to Prosperity the other day. Too many bad memories, but it was educational. Danny's life was more fun. Even while he was worried about ghosts. There wasn't that all-pervasive, soul-sickening dread like Martin had." They finish off their croissant and say, "I prefer being here. It's safe. We can have just about anything we want."


Hugs are certainly accepted and returned from Bon-Vivant, Penitent giving a smile. "Go have fun!" She says to him, and to Bravo as well, and then she nods. "Yes, Lupe was Max. She was also known then as Bella Muerta! One of the fiercest outlaws of the old west. I was Anette Hargreave, until I traded my name for McTavish anyway, the leader of the Black Widow Gang. Lupe was my sister, along with others. Prosperity was a ... harder life and memory to shake, though I think the time and distance provided by the summer at the Eager Beaver has made it easier. I've also been Kylie Shorley and Madison Wellson." She nods at Lover.


The Lover gives Fizz that hug and smiles during the kiss to her hair. She then watches him and Roxie leave then turns to Briar. She files away those names as more she will need to try to remember, then asks, "What, you go back?" Then Emily gets her attention. She mouths, 'Bella Muerta' then shakes her head. "I am never going to remember so many names... Prosperity. Was worse than the Lodge?"


"For me, Prosperity was worse. Martin was sick, his family was cursed, there were demons, and even though he survived, I woke up here anyway. I had a wife and an infant daughter, and they were just gone." They shake their head. "That was the hardest thing for me. To have gone through so much only to lose them anyway." They glance down at their coffee and shiver a little. Then they take a drink and say, "Danny was easy going, and he was drunk and high most of the time. He worried, but death didn't scare him all that much. He didn't believe in Hell. Martin knew better."


"I feel much the same. Anette gave up most of her hopes and reams in order to defend the people of Prosperity from the demons, and she finally got the life she wanted ten years late. But she got it. She married Cillian McTavish and they had a daughter, and then we were back here. Cillian was a mixture of other people as well, and we're still figuring out how to work through all of that." There's a shake of Penitent's head. "I don't mean to belittle what you're going through, though, Lulu. And you don't need to remember all the names, really. But you'll probably pick them up because some of us have stronger memories associated with different people. Emily was also drunk and high most of the time, and spent most of her life hiding who she really was and worrying more about what people thought of her. She was honestly amazed that she survived, though."


The Lover frowns, deeply, as she listens to Briar tell Martin's tale. She knew Danny. She's known him for a long time. She remembers when... Her brow furrows and she looks at Briar. "How come, I remember. I remember the band, playing. I remember, But I can't remember." She isn't really making any sense at the moment. She breathes in deep then sighs softly. "I am so sorry. So sorry you suffered, or Martin suffered. Suffered through him?" She is really still trying to make sense of all of it still. "I liked Danny. he was nice to me and, I always just hoped I would see him happy, then I did." She smiles then. "Before the end. It was beautiful to see."

"And you," she says to Emily. "It sounds as if you suffered as well." Something Emily says made her curious and so she asks, "so you have relationships that still exist here. And make them work, through all the things?" She smiles to Emily then too. "I also liked Emily. She ga.. you.. gave me hugs and cuddles. You made me feel... comfortable."


The Addict glances down at their empty plate, and they get to their feet. "They give us memories," they say, "to fill in our lives, to make them feel real." They come around to wrap their arms around Lulu's shoulders, and they kiss her on the cheek. "Danny was a happy kind of guy, and I still feel his life inside me. I'd like to think that Danny could have been more like me if he'd have tweaked his brain to the left just a little." She gives Lulu and extra little squeeze, then says, "I'm going to get some actual food. I'll be right back, lovelies."


"Can you get me some scrambled eggs?" Penny asks as Addict gets up to get some actual food! She gives her simple little smile and peers at Lulu. "Eggs are kind of amazing, don't you think? You can do so many things with them. I think they're my favorite food ever." There's a little apologetic smile following these words. "Yeah, 'they', whoever they are -- this place or whatever -- give us memories that we can sort of think about if we try. But the actual events we lived through are pretty clear. And I don't know why everyone liked Emily, she was a bit of a cruel bitch at times. But rarely to your face. She'd talk behind your back or give backhanded compliments though."


The Lover smiles at the cheek kiss given to her by Briar. She nods and says, "food is important." She tilts her head, studying Emily. "She was almost always nice to me.. if she ever talked behind my back, I never heard. There was one time, she said something sort of snappy, but I mean, we were all very stressed so I didn't think anything of it. I can only judge a person by what I see, right? She was nice to me."


"The stress did get to me. I went off at Kim a few times," Penitent says, slipping from talking about Emily in the first person instead of third person all of a sudden, and there's a sigh. "I should probably find her and apologize for all of that. And of course her priorities changed a bit when we were, you know, under attack by killer ghosts, so." She shakes her head. "Maybe we should go back to the lodge and just have our summer vacation, huh?" There's a little smile there.


"She's here too? Is everyone here? Addison? Laine?" Lulu pauses then asks, "So you can go back. But, so many bad memories. Though, there were some good ones, I guess."


"Laine is probably here, she was in Prosperity. Addison ... he was here before we were at the lodge, but not in Prosperity. One of the new 'blank slates' as we took to calling them. Imagine being here with no memories at all." Penitent nods slowly. "But not everyone shows up here. A lot of people don't. And sometimes people who have been here before just stop, for some reason. A friend of mine was here through our first two 'lives', but ... I don't know. After Prosperity she just wasn't here anymore." Shaking her head a little, she gives a soft sort of sigh.

"And yeah, we can go anywhere. Through those doors that Scott and Roxie went through?" She gestures towards the parlour and the Anywhere Rooms. "Anywhere you can think of will be on the other side of the door."


"Anywhere?" Lulu asks, looking to the doors. "So like, if I wanted to spend the day on a beautiful beach in the tropics, sunbathe nude with a fruity cocktail in my hand, I could? And no ghosts would try to get me?" She seems more intrigued by that thought, in a good way, than she has any other today. "What does it mean when they don't come here? I can't imagine not having any memories? Like, at all? Like complete amnesia like on the soap operas?" She reaches up to run her fingers over her forehead, frowning. Everything that has happened, that she has learned since waking seems to be giving her a slight headache.


The Addict emerges from the dispensary. In one hand they've got a plate of scrambled eggs, and in the other, Eggs Florentine. They're still not sure if they're a vegetarian or not, so why not err on the side of caution? "It took me forever to decide what I wanted," they say. "That's the problem with limitless choices. I want to try them all." They set the scrambled eggs before Penny, then set down their own breakfast. Before they sit, though, they ask Lulu, "Do you want anything while I'm up?"


"Ask Scott what it was like. He was here before he existed somewhere else," Penitent says with a shake of her head. "I can't imagine it either. I always had at least Madison's memories to draw upon." Then the eggs are here! Yay! She beams a bright smile at Addict and nods at them. "Thank you, you're an angel." She says, using Emily's classic term of endearment whenever someone brings her things. "But yeah, you can go anywhere, and there's never been any horrors to worry about that I know of. My favorite place to go is probably the space station, but now that there's people, well. Suddenly it's worth doing other things, like rounding up the girls and robbing a train."


The Lover shakes her head to Briar with a kind smile. "No thank you. I think I might head back to my room, if I can find it. My head is kind of in a swirl, and there was a really nice looking bathtub in my room that sounds really nice right now. If you two don't mind," she says, looking from Briar to Emily. She nods and says, "I will, next time we get a chance to talk." Blink. "Space station? You can go to space?"


The Addict beams at Emily. They take their seat as they say, "That space station freaked me right out the first time I saw it. Imagine someone from 1902 stepping foot among the stars. I was barefoot, and Caleb broke a glass, so I couldn't leave the bar until I picked it up, but he was having a bad time. I don't hold it against him." Besides, the Rogue said this was a good color on them, and that's a good way to score points. To Lulu, they say, "We should go to Aruba. Just lounge on the beach, drink alcohol out of coconuts, and let the suns rays warm us. We should do something magnificent every day."


"Yep! One of my lives was on that space station. Kylie the docking technician. She lived most of her life in space, in the year 2149. Until hostile aliens came and killed her, anyway. She didn't have good luck with space stations, come to think of it... but that's not here or there really." There's a grin for Addict, and a light little shrug from Penitent. "I like doing good things, but also ... I still kind of want to get out of here. I don't know if I can take many more people being in my head, you know? And I'm a little worried about things like, there's other people in those rooms now? Who are they? Why are they?"


The Lover can't take anymore of the 5 W's today. Not right now at least. She rises from her seat to go to Emily for a hug, then to Briar, unless either of them refuse her. "I'm going to go get that bath. There was a jar of rose petals on the sink. Rose petals!" Looking to Briar she says, "book us that trip to Aruba," then to Emily "and maybe one day you can show me space... Wish me luck finding my room!" She stops, looking at her whiskey glass and shortcake dish. "Where do we put our dishes?"


The Addict rises again to hug Tallulah. That's one thing about them that is pure Danny, those heartfelt hugs. "Take care of yourself, sweetheart," they say gently. "Just leave the dishes. It'll be fine." Because the Addict will take them back for her. They then reclaim their seat and tell Emily, "I can feel the two lives blending together, and it's kind of strange, but I've got it easy. I think Danny is exactly who Martin would have been if Martin had been born in the 1960s to a pair of Jewish hippies." They pause, then say, "But he was such a boy."

The person formerly known as Danny looks like Danny superficially, but is in a fuchsia and white maxi-dress, sleeveless with a high neck, their hair pinned in a bun, and makeup on. And shaven. Their hair is still fabulous, and those cheek bones could cut glass.


Penitent smiles. "That sounds nice. My room is more of a prison cell. A nice one, but not rose petal nice. Still, I find it comforting." There's a slow nod of her head. She's sitting there in her maroon singlet top and grey slacks, no shoes. It's loose fitting and comfortable as she looks back at Addict after returning Lover's hug. "They do blend together but it gets more and more confusing. And knowing others as so many different people is something else as well."


The Vigilante looks older than Mallory by a few years, and she's wearing black jeans, combat boots, a gray tank, and a leather jacket with a curious silk lining. She squints at Lover as the woman passes, brow furrowed, like she's thinking hard. Turning to face the other two, she frowns. "Emily. And... Danny?" She looks wary. Kind of... coiled.


The Addict sweeps a lock of hair behind their ear and says, "I just try to appreciate what I've got while I've got it, because you're right. It'll get weirder as these lives keep piling on, and who knows what we'll be to each other next?" They sit and tuck into their Eggs Florentine, eating with poise, like someone who was actually raised with table manners. Looking up, they smile a little and say, "Mallory, was it? I was Danny for awhile, yeah. I apologize if I was ever inappropriate with you."


Nodding her head slowly, Penitent gives a small smile. "I have a lot going for me really. Though I should talk to Cillian again, at some point. And Laine too, I guess." She shrugs though. All of that can wait, because she has eggs to devour. Yum. She glances aside at the Vigilante, brows lifting up. "Wow, Mallory? Sorry I didn't really get to know you when I was Emily. You're here too." A pause. "I'm sorry about that."


"We did beat up a fish monster together," Vigilante says, her tone rather deadpan. "So there's that. I'll take that over gal pals and makeup tips. And no, you didn't do anything bad that I remember." That's to Addict. She folds her arms over her stomach and leans against the wall. She eyes the dress for a few moments, seems to be thinking, then shrugs. "How many people are in here, anyway?"


The Addict says, "I'm a little queer." They say this the same way one might say 'the sky is blue' or 'combat boots really suit you.' Sometimes, one just has to say the obvious so it's there, everyone knows it's there, and life moves on. For what it's worth, the dress seems cut to the Addict's frame. They don't look so much like a dude in women's clothing as they do an androgyne in an outfit tailored for them. They look to Penny at the Vigilante's question. It's a good question, but they have no idea.


"We did!" Penitent beams at that remembrance of a fish monster. "Emily was all for gal pals and makeup tips though. And then gossiping about anything and everything afterwards. She didn't ... well, anyway." There's a shrug there, another mouthful of eggs. Smiling that almost innocent smile at Addict's statement, she continues on thoughtfully. "There's a few of us. Across four different lives now I remember, let's see. It's hard to remember all these different people that are actually the same person. Colorado, Ethan, Lyle, Addison, Christine, yourself. Oh, Bastian too! Kimberly, Laine, Sonya? I've heard is here. There's quite a few of us! Not everyone ever, but ... how many doors are there in the hallway? That's how many of us are here, I guess. Twenty or thirty? Maybe a bit more, I've never counted, and sometimes they change."


The Vigilante nods to Addict. The sky IS blue, and those combat boots totally suit her. Gone is her high ponytail; it's loose waves now. They traded. "...They change? Roxie mentioned something like that. You've been through four different... stories?" She looks to Addict. "How many have you done?"


The Addict says, "Two, for me. I showed up for Prosperity, then woke up here. Then I lived Danny's life, and here I am again." To Penny, they say, "I've seen Scott, and Finn's back. They go by Fizz and Dare now. I'm going by Briar, because I was a thorn in Mahoney's side at the end. I haven't seen Arthur yet, but his door is still the same." They sigh softly, and worry furrows their brow. "Is it weird that I miss Tommy, even though I don't think he was real?"


"Four, yes," Penitent says with a nod of her head, finishing up her eggs. "It is something strange, figuring out how to mix them all together. And I haven't chosen a name for myself specifically, like some have. I'm just Emily. Or Anette or Kylie or Madison." She shrugs a little at that. "It's not weird that you miss Tommy, and he was real. Just because someone isn't here doesn't mean anything."


"What if he was real, but just in a different... facility? I don't know what to call this place," Vigilante says. "And I don't know what to call myself. Mallory seems to be getting farther away. Do most people just use... whatever their last name was? What was Prosperity like? And the other three?"


The Addict nods slowly. "I suppose. I like to imagine Martin's wife and child are alive somewhere, somehow getting on without him. Maybe he died and this is the afterlife. Maybe we reincarnate. Or maybe I don't know enough about the situation to draw any kind of conclusion. He was a good guy, though." They take a drink of coffee and sigh quietly. Poor Tommy. "I named myself," Briar says, "but it's up to you."


The Vigilante steps away from the wall, shaking her head. "I need a smoothie," she mutters. "Thanks." Apparently she's still brusque even when she's not Mallory.


The Addict raises their coffee cup to Vigilante in a wordless toast. There's still enough Danny in them that brusque doesn't bother them in the slightest. "Just imagine the kind you want, and the dispenser will get it for you," they say.


The Vigilante grunts, and makes her way out again. Charming!