Log:Getting to Know All About You
It's another day in the Facility. And The Confidant is writing. On the wall. In bold black marker. He's written a lot. You'll find something just about anywhere. Halls. Parlor. All short, aspirational sort of things. Sometimes instructions. The dining room has 'Someone Else Will Clean It'. One hallway has, 'Find Them. Be Unafraid.' He even wrote in the Dispensary. 'Only Press Once'. Right now, the phrase, 'Live For Today' is going up over the TV and Peter Gabriel's In Your Eyes, plays. Confidant is tall enough to reach over it but he wants this phrase to be big and clear, so he's standing on a chair. He has two more markers clipped in the back pocket of his jeans. His plain white t-shirt is smudged with ink.
The prehaps recognizable voice of the Loner comes from the direction of the dining room, his Scottish accent in full flare today. Sometimes it wanes, sometimes waxes, usually when drunk, and right now it's strong. "Who's the bloody rocket writing fucking... oh." He stops as he steps through the door with a mug of coffee in one hand, a plate of toast in the other, and his eyes settle on Confidant up on the chair doing exactly what he decided to complain about. He grunts and shakes his head. "Bloody optimists." He's in a fine pique today. Though he says no more as he walks over to one of the chairs and flops into it completely. He's in his usual sweater and pajama pants, both in a shade of charcoal today.
The spindly form of the Deviant has been busy, too. In fact, he's currently standing in the doorway of the Parlor from the hallway, and he appears to be measuring the frame with a measuring tape. When he finishes one side, he notes it down in a small black notepad, then moves onto the next side. While he's measuring the top of the doorframe, he glances over and notes the Confidant, scrawling away. The Deviant smirks a little as he watches him, eyes moving over to the Loner next. The Deviant is wearing a black turtleneck and slim black pants with pointed black boots, same as yesterday. Most of the time, his clothing seems practically uniform in its uniformity.
"Not optimism." The Confidant says, primly. "Advice. Reminders. Words of wisdom. Rules. Policy." He finishes and jumps down from the chair. "Whoa, that is nice to have two working legs. Encounters make you appreciate things." He points to Deviant with that statement. "You'll see. Later, rather than sooner, hopefully." He drops down near Loner. "Glenn didn't have your accent, did he? I should remember, given my constant need for laudanum, but I'm drawing a blank. Probably because of the laudanum." He pauses a moment. "You did good, by the way. What you did for Angeline...brave, man. Braver than I ever was." He looks back to Deviant. "Whatcha doin'?"
"Learning," the Deviant says, now measuring the door handle itself. "Measuring. Collecting. One never knows when it may come in handy." He still has that whispery voice with the northern English accent. He has no stories to swap or tales to reminisce about, after all.
"Optimism." Loner repeats in a dry flat tone, punctuated with the crunch of a bite of toast as he meats Confidant's eyes. "No, Glenn had a western drawl like everyone else there. Well, maybe a little less." He picks up his mug of coffee for a sip. Though like every other time someone complimented him for what Glenn did in the end he looks uneasy and shifts a little in his seat. "It's not bravery to kill yourself. Besides, she had to go back to that hell and I got to kick up my feet here. So in the end.." He shakes his head. It has the sound of an argument he's already made once or twice before. His eyes do drift over to Deviant for a moment brows drawing down.
"Good point." Confidant concedes to Loner. "But, Glenn didn't know what you know. He acted. Don't downplay it, man. We don't have a whole lot here. We can have a little pride." He looks over to Deviant. "That is a good idea. Like...a really good one. Things might change subtly and how would we know. Smart." He twirls his marker in his fingers as he regards Loner again. "I tried to hang myself in Prosperity. Me and Miss Senni after she...left. I failed. That was the act of a coward. That's not what Glenn did. You gave Angeline a happy ending. That is...priceless here. Priceless."
The Deviant, of course, can't possibly have much to add to the tales of Prosperity. He looks impassively at the Loner as he looks his way, then nods back to the Confidant. "Correct. One can't know how things are changing if what's already there isn't being catalogued." He must be saying this because the tall, black-clad, spindly man is measuring the doorframe with a tape measurer, then jotting the measurements down in a small black notepad.
The Loner sighs softly and shakes his head, burying his face in his mug. He's desperately trying to keep a reign on his tongue and trying not to repeat the last conversation he had in this room with Confidant. The struggle evident on his face for a moment. Maybe something of Glenn has toned down his acerbic tongue. A bit. "Just one question." He finally speaks up. "How do you intend to keep track of your notes with the resets?" One brow just goes up slightly, maybe he's curious to hear the answer.
The Beast comes wandering down the hall from his room and into the parlor, glancing at those gathered. There's a momentary pause as he notes Confidant, and observes Deviant taking his measurements for a moment, catching just the very end of the conversation. "Do the notes actually remain? Or is the book blank again after you sleep?" he asks idly in passing as he makes his way toward the dispensary, presumably for something to eat or drink. He does pause long enough to hear the answer, glancing between those gathered, before making his way to find a cup of hot tea to bring back.
"I'll shut up." The Confidant says to Loner, raising his hands peacefully. "I suppose you're hearing the same shit a lot so, I apologize." He looks to Deviant for an answer to the query and adds, "I used to keep a journal. I mean, I didn't care if it blanked. I thought writing would help but...it didn't." Then The Beast appears, Confidant goes all pink and ducks his head. "Fuck." He grunts. He takes a deep breath and glides back on topic. "Mmm. I find writing on the walls to be more therapeutic though. Feels like I'm helping. Especially with the new faces. But, you know...maybe he, uh..." He gestures to Deviant. "He might just fucking remember. I remember all the names...faces....doors..."
The Deviant snaps back the measuring tape with a satisfying sort of *thwap*. He glances to the Confidant and the Loner and taps his head with one long, thin finger. "Writing it down allows me to keep it here more easily." He nods to Confidant as he makes that particular guess...then steps inside the room to measure the inside door frame. "Thus far, they can't erase what's inside my mind. I intend to take advantage of that, until the circumstance changes."
The woman once known as Eilis McTavish has finally stopped peeking out of her door and turned off watchful wary stealth mode, reading the various writings on the literal walls that's been done for the day. She's also dressed today, unlike the one time she was caught out in the dispensary, the once edgy frontier hybrid finery she wore once upon a time translating to designer modern garb with chic flattering lines. Today, she's wearing a high waisted chiffon skirt in flaring coral with a fitted and enhancing black camisole tucked into it. It's a picture completed with the play of enhancing cosmetics on her fine features and flashy silver strappy heels. What was once a Western walking doll is now a piece of vibrant runway with her hair dark and glossy again, no more pieces broken. At least, not on the outside-- her eyes are a little wide and her steps are a little dragging. Because there's two things in that parlor that suddenly fascinate her to stop.
One of those things is the television on the wall, which she's been hearing but has yet to watch as the source of hallway noise. The other is what was once her brother sitting right there in plain sight. She holds her breath and can't decide where to look, still as a bunny before it hops into reactive motion.
"Try not to tempt them on that particular front. I wouldn't bloody well put it past them to start deleting things." Loner taps the side of his head with a finger. "There must be some way they blank us before each.. trip." That Scottish accent of his gets particularly thick when he thinks of that, some of the words running together into unintellegability. Loner looks exactly like Glenn, not having pulled any age bouncing that some of the others do, perhaps his hair a bit shorter to hide the curl, and then the accent.. But the vexed face he's making as he takes another bite of toast is exactly Glenn to a tee. His eyes follow Beast for a moment as he wanders through but has yet to notice Eilis' entry yet.
The Beast nods as the answer seems to be as he suspected, and continues on his way to the dispensary. It doesn't take more than a couple of moments for him to return with a mug of hot tea in one hand, steam still curling off of it. He then takes up a comfortable lean in the doorway between the parlor and the dining room, moving out of the way if anyone wants to get past him, one shoulder resting against the frame of the archway. He idly observes Confidant and his scribbling and Deviant and his measuring. He says to Deviant, "Not a bad plan. Unless they're doing that, too." He nods a bit to Loner, with a sort of generally grim expression. When he speaks, he has a British accent that pegs him as a Londoner, and is more softspoken, and more talkative, most likely, than Eilis would remember from Prosperity. He looks younger than Evan did, more in his later 20s than early 30s, and considerably less road-weathered. He's dressed in his usual jeans and light sweater and socks. He almost never bothers with shoes in the facility, no need. He studies Eilis for a moment, not recognizing her immediately, and then eventually he does, giving her a nod in greeting. His tea is held in his hands while it cools enough to drink.
The Confidant clutches his chest and looks aghast at Loner. "Hey. Our memory is...sacred. The ability to recall once we return is. Fuck. You're bringing me down, man. I-I won't...no more talk of that." He then notes Eilis. He stares at her, staring at the room. One beat. Two. "Hey, Eilis. Look! It's Glenn! He and uh, Evan, seem to have UK editions but it's them." He stands now, offering his seat near Loner to her. "Go ahead. Reconnect. But he's a little touchy." He leans towards her. "Don't bring up his...last act." He stage-whispers. He grins and wanders across to the bookshelves. "I found Miss Senni last night." He says and he really smiles then. Jody didn't smile like this. "Reconnecting is good. I should write that..." And now he's looking for a blank patch of wall.
The UK is well-represented here, given the Beast's Londoner accent, the Loner's Scottish accent, and the Deviant's Yorkshire accent. "No need to be so superstitious," he casually informs Loner and Beast, going about his measuring. "It's how one gives them power."
There's a beat where the brunette looks at The Deviant with lack of recognition that seems to make her a little wary all over again, but it doesn't last. And it takes a moment for former-Eilis to recognize former-Evan without the hat and surly expression and western drawl, it really does. When her eyes flash back to him after automatic polite return of the nod, she makes a tiny gasp of noise. She was unwillingly drugged and tucked away by two particular men during that last banishing and has no idea exactly how he died, but she knows enough from that life after with the Coltons to know he did too, just like Glenn, in a fight with a demon.
The accents seem to be what throws her more than anything and she starts to open her mouth to no doubt state the obvious before she looks at the familiar red-haired man making a segway for her with his words, still silence instead of blurting. Then she looks at the television again, music and pictures in a box. Time looks a little slow motion for her, but eventually, it moves.
Finally, she decides, somewhere in there just what to do. That or her body decides for her-- she charges what she knows as Glenn with an impulsive pounce and sitting hug of squeeze, poor guy, kissing about five times along his cheek and forehead. She didn't really take the ol' former Deputy's advice. She's scared of a lot of things in this place. But she's enough Eilis to be blindly unafraid of her once-brother's touchy, damn where they're at, nevermind him not being her brother at all.
There's just a flat stare from Loner to Confidant for a moment as he repeats, "Bloody optimists." He gives a bit of a start as he hears Confidant speak Glenn's sister's name, and maybe his head does whip around a trifle fast to settle his gaze on her. "Oh, for fuck's sake.. You weren't supposed to end up here in this shit hole." His language is certainly more pithy than Glenn's was even in his foulest moods, but he actually sounds a little distraught at seeing her here, because she's here. But of course anything else he's about to say is lost as his personal bubble is assaulted by once-Eilis, and miracle of miracles, he just kind of lets her get her worries and frustrations out without more complaint than a slight thinning of his lips.
The Beast finally addresses Confidant, and says flatly, "We had western editions, not the other way around. I'm not Evan. But if you want to call me something, you can call me Connor." It was the name of his first remembered incarnation and the one he associates the most with. That, he addresses to both Confidant and Caregiver, as well as Deviant for that matter, since he suddenly realizes he might not have introduced himself the last time they spoke. He takes a sip from his mug of tea and takes a sip from it.
The Confidant stops looking for the perfect canvas for his new aspiration to bear witness to this reunion. You can almost see the guy's heart pooling at his feet. But he tenses when Beast speaks to him. "You're right, Connor. This is the real and personally, this is preferred. Also, I'm Chance. Something about that first time, yeah?" His posture relaxes. "Didn't keep the southern accent though. I like accents. Means you had a home." The Confidant sounds like an American newscaster. "Damn it. Sad again. Shit." He starts back towards the hall to his room. "It's not optimism, by the way. It's coping." He says to Loner, over his shoulder. He enters his room and, of course, leaves the door wide open.
The Deviant says casually, "Call me Dirk." He pauses in his measuring to cross into the dining room, presumably for something to eat or drink. That occupies him for some time, but no doubt, he'll return. He didn't finish measuring everything in the room yet!
The young flashy dressed brunette eventually ceases invading the space of who she knows as Glenn, but not entirely. She doesn't seem to have words, but she understands enough to stop freaking kissing on him. Even Glenn could only tolerate so much as a grown man. Instead, she curls up a bit sideways on his lap and clings there in silence, working her glossed bottom lip hard between her teeth like she's fighting tears. Stubbornly, she holds them back in the end, wide blue eyes only getting a good misting as she lays her head against his shoulder and listens to the others around her and the noise of the television.
That constant fascination with the music picture box is his saving grace in the end because she starts to shift up and wonders, of all things right now-- "How'd they get the pictures in the box?" She may be dressed from her closet like modern times, but her head knows turn of the century innovation only. And once upon a time, she ran away to be a darling piece of stage and vaudeville, so this thing on the wall here, captured performances and constant plays, it's amazing for her.
Maybe there's a bit of a look from Loner to Beast as he continues to have his personal space invaded but eventually just gives up lets what is going to happen happen. Though once he's free enough to grab his mug of coffee he does so to take a sip. "Ei, have you talked with anyone else yet?" He sounds almost hopeful she has, he doesn't want to be the one to break all the awful stuff to her, but indeed the TV does offer a wonderful distraction. Even if the music is driving the part of him that is Andrew absolutely insane. He was a music snob afterall.
"It's called a television. Not exactly sure how they work other than.." He pauses as he thinks. "Like a radio.. wait no we didn't have those in Prosperity." He shifts his gaze towards the screen again. "It's like a telegraph for sounds and pictures. It uses electricity and.. yeah, sorry, I'm no techie."
The Beast nods to the Confidant and says, "Chance." It seems that he, too, is more comfortable referring to Confidant by something other than his most recent name. "You do have an accent," he points out, "An American one." But then he takes a sip from his tea and moves out of the doorway, making his way toward a chair. He settles into it comfortably enough, one ankle coming to rest on the opposite knee as he studies Caregiver and Loner for a moment while Deviant wanders off toward the food and drink. He catches that look from Loner and glances toward Caregiver then back to him. "You know how folks invent new stuff, and nobody knew how it worked before, and then everybody uses it and it's the best thing ever? Like a new bellows for the forge that operates with a handle instead of having to squeeze the bellows by hand? That's like that. It's called technology. How it works isn't particularly important, but the pictures and the sound are carried like a telegraph signal, just different." He nods in agreement with Loner on that count. He then says to him, "I can tell her, if you want."
The Rogue arrives from The Facility - Hall of Rooms.
"I came out once. I didn't like what Jody told me. I don't feel as brave as Eilis. She had roots. It made her strong. I don't. So I went back in. But I'm not good at being alone. Even if what I see looks like ghosts and demons." Eilis never really had much of a drawl most of the time, unless she was distracted or distressed, because she had elocution lessons in New York as part of stage training. But you know. She kind of has one now. And it's not western, it's distinctly southern instead, if muted, her vowels softened to suit and blend. But it's close enough to what she once had, she probably hasn't noticed.
She finally shifts off of who she knows as Glenn, off of her cling on his lap to approach the television while listening to Evan... no, Connor, and his explanation about the technology of how the box and things work. Then she pokes out a finger to tap cautiously at the glass. When she's not electrocuted, she seems charmed and steps back to watch with fascination. There's a damn Madonna video playing with the dance on it involving a chair, very little clothing, and a peepshow booth. And she looks all too ready to soak it up as it plays Open Your Heart for the room.
"You know, I keep hoping a Slaying Dragons video would come on, but it just keeps playing the eighties. And I think if I saw Andrew on that TV I might lose my mind." Loner shifts a bit as Eilis vacates his lap and he looks over to Connor, then back to his once sister. He actually is smirking a bit at her reaction to the TV. "We should take her onto the Noc in one of those anywhere rooms. She thinks a TV is facinating.." He shakes his head with a small snicker. "Well, without the aliens of course." It's amazing how much Loner can unwind when it's only people he's comfortable with around.
"Can I get you some tea or something, Ei? There's a machine in the other room that can make you any food you want. And definitely don't ask how that one works." Loner shakes his head with a glance in the direction of the dispensery. "I'm not sure anyone could figure that one out."
The Beast watches Caregiver from where he sits, and nods a bit when she mentions that she didn't like what Confidant had told her. He then glances over toward Loner and says, "I kind of liked the diner on the Noc. And then there's the view from the bar in the casino. Everyone should see that at least once. I actually didn't get a lot of time to explore some of the station." He then says, "There's a lot of stuff in here that nobody's figured out yet. Cameron spent a lot of time trying to find an exit and couldn't ever find one, or figure out how anyone got in to reset everything." He pulls himself up from his chair, tea in hand, and says, "I'll go get some things to eat that you might like, and bring them back out here." He then wanders back over toward the dispensary to pick up some things that he might remember Eilis liking from Prosperity.
The Rogue was another ghost from the past for Eilis to encounter. The world weary cowboy who pulled every trick ace out of his sleeve to get them an answer to get rid of the demons and yes, lost in the end. Winning might be futile, but Eilis...the woman that went through that swathe of shite with them as Eilis, wasn't gone unlike some. He was shaven, less weather worn and decidedly under-slept. His zombie shuffle to the coffee pot paused seeing the gathering in front of him. "Blast, you're alright!" Okay he also sounded South African and nothing like a cowboy. He looked relieved.
The Beast departing to grab some things has once-Eilis looking toward the dispensary with a vaguely guilty look. She still thinks she broke something in there the one time she was out and pushed all the buttons, but she doesn't out that part. Instead, she wonders of once-Glenn, "Oh. What's a Nock? Like archery? When you pull an arrow back for a buffalo? There's a range?" The young brunette is already moving a little before she does a little turn in musical place unbidden to watch her coral chiffon modern skirt flare out with the motion, arms outward. And in that distracted music-moved moment, she doesn't look scared, she looks like a carefree angel, fascinated.
She doesn't recognize the accent but she recognizes Caleb's voice with echoes of him as her new family in place of the ones she lost and it startles her right out of spin. Instead of frontier finery, she's wearing pieces of runway fashion and heels with camisole and skirt and she's healthy and vibrant as can be, unlike she was last seen by the Rogue, dying on a birthing bed with pale hair and bloodless color, having given all for the boys her and Pierce Colton made to win in the end in the face of losing each other. She pauses abruptly, skirt soon stilling after. Then she launches for him, no warning.
"It's short for Tenochtitlan, it was a place a lot of us here spent some time before Prosperity." Loner pulls his legs up into the chair, crossing them underneath himself as he watches Eilis. "It was out in space, among the stars." It was also infested with psychotic robots and murderous aliens but there's no need to bring that up right now, nor does he. He just sips at his coffee his gaze going downward as Ei spots Caleb and they spend a moment getting reintroduced, not wanting to interrupt that for the moment.
The Rogue has his turn to wake up and lose everything. This? This was a look of relief that wet his eyes as they squint shut. Arms wrapped around EilisPerson and lifted her heels off the ground in a hug. He took a deep breath and actually smiled, "Ag man! It's good to see you. I'm sorry. I'm sooo soo sorry." he set her down pausing and looking from her to Glen and back and between again taking a sigh to ground himself, "I feel like I'm apt to say that a lot. Have um... how you holding up?" This seemed to be an open question to both of them.
Practically swinging from the man she knows from Caleb with the lifting hug, the brunette holds on with tight squeeze and balms his sorries away with a solid kiss alongside his face because she's still enough Eilis in all of this to be able to do just that. Or at least, she's that operating piece still that made the woman work that way. As she's put back down and the question is posed, she glances down with drop of mascara darkened lashes to look at the cross at her neck that doesn't match her chic clothing. It's a simple silver cross on a leather cord. It belonged to a particular Colton once. She doesn't seem to actually have an answer for the question that is something she wants to air aloud, but for just the barest of beats, she stands with her posture drawing in shoulders, gutted.
She doesn't let it last. She lets her brother/not brother answer instead as the television starts to throb with the beat of Bizarre Love Triangle. And after wandering over to watch with more fascination for the synthetic beat, she just starts to dance, imitations, adaptations and spins and turns. She had a talent for it once. And little sponge that she is right now, it's coming out again like a defense mechanism.
Loner looks between once-Caleb and once-Eilis as the latter doesn't answer the question posed by the former. For his part he shrugs. "About as well as I was doing yesterday." He finally manages to get back to his toast and chews away at it still watching his once-sister as if he's not entirely sure how he feels about her being here. He washes down the last bite of toast with another swig of coffee, eyes drifting to the TV and back to the Rogue. "Any sign of Addie, yet? I find it hard to believe she's not here. You know.. the first clear memory I have.." He taps the side of his head. "You know how they're different, the ones more like snapshots and then the ones that feel real?"
Loner only waits a moment to see if Caleb understands. "There's three other people I recognize in that first memory. Connor, Conrad, and Addie. I'm sure she's around here."
The Rogue watched Eilis quietly dance away and into the embrace of avoidance. Bare feet carried him over toward Not-Glenn and nodded. He was oping for good news for his, but Loner could get to the heart of a situation like a bllet couldn't he? He shook his head and took a deep breath, "Found her room. THe, um, the door was blank. Found mum's ring that I... he???" He didn't know how the wrods worked. He was willing to humor Glenn-not-Glenn maybe separation was good. He took another deep breath and tried to finish that best he could. "Found the ring I ave to her left but her door was... cleared." He looked away from Loner and to Eilis dancing, alive, vibrant. "Addie's not coming back." For her sake he didn't finish the rest of that thought.
The brunette once-Eilis dancing is relentless with energy, driven by fascination, avoiding everything that hurts still for as long as she can manage. In parts it's like a tempest of determination as much as it is a distraction, a bit like powering through into something pretty, awful and wrong be damned. She's always been an expressive little bird and it's all over her as much as the bodily motion is. When she overhears the Roguish fellow she knows as Caleb, though, it's apparent she's not utterly absorbed in making herself whole for the sake of preservation through all that musical motion. She stops. Her facial features flinch for him. Maybe for herself. Her head tilts. Another song eventually comes on. Like a Prayer. And all fitting, she drops to her knees to watch the play in the box, clutching at the cross she's wearing herself.
Then out of nowhere, there's enough turn of the century in this little bohemian to be shocked. Nevermind the naked, there's a white woman kissing a black man on the screen! Her jaw drops.
The Loner reaches out to put a hand on the Rogue's shoulder. It is an awkward gesture coming from him, but it's his effort at trying to be comforting. "Sorry, mate." And by some miracle he actually sounds like he means it. "I know you and I have never really, uh, crossed paths. But if you need to talk." He just leaves that hanging there for a moment sounding more awkward if even possible but he offers a faint nod and withdraws his hand back to his mug.
Then his eyes find Eilis, note her expression, then drift to the TV screen with a slow shake of his head. "Poor, Ei. Makes me glad my first excursion wasn't in the past." Then he takes a looks around the room and reconsiders that particular thought. "Well, not that far in the past, perhaps."
The Rogue squeezed his jaw tight. and dipped his head in a nod to Glenn. Eilis got a look that seemed to convey more than words carried right now. "Might take you up on that. Right now I'm just... trying not to throw up or set the damn building on fire. Neither seem to really...fix the..." He blinked at the screen and arched an eyebrow, "A'ight that's pretty hot." Didn't fix the issue but it was a damn nice distraction. "Yeah. I think hose of us with technical familiarity are going to need to help those that don't."
Eventually, this version of Eilis gets inspired instead of shocked by the sight of interracial kissing on screen. That's impossible. Impossible things are real. She continues to sit in kneel clutching the leather-thonged cross at her neck. Then eventually when the screen play is over, it's replaced by a less theatrical version of song video which stirs her up and to dancing again, spinning her pretty chiffon piece of coral skirt attire around and around. The Human League. Don't You Want Me. Sufficiently upbeat to absorb in all over again, though she breezes by somewhere in dancing to put her hand in a comforting caress over who she knows as Caleb, right at his neck and shoulder. Her once-brother doesn't avoid the touch either as the pair sits talking of dire things, her hand taking a skip over his hair before she's right back in front of the television with ungodly energy. Then like she's telling on herself, she says, "I made fifteen foods fall out of the machines all at once. I might have broke something." The timing with the Beast coming back in probably proves otherwise, though.
"Well, it's not hard to find my door." Loner sinks back into his chair, finishing off his coffee and setting the mug aside. He's still keeping half his attention on Eilis though, even as he asides to Caleb. "She seems to be taking it pretty well, though. Much better than I was doing on my second day here. I'm pretty sure that involved me making coffee in the dispenser just so I could break the mugs throwing them against the wall." He purses his lips at the memory and shrug. "Andrew's memories came with anger issues and poor impulse control."
The Beast comes out of the dispensary and through the dining hall to return with a bowl of hot warm hearty stew and some crusty fresh bread that smells like it just came out of the oven, as well as a mug of warm mulled cider. It's not particularly cold in the facility, but it's comfort food. He brings it over and sets it all down on one of the small tables near the chairs. His own mug of tea has been refreshed, but he doesn't bring any food out for himself at the moment. "You didn't break anything," he tells her. "All you do is think of what you want and it appears in the cubby. Even if you did, it would be fixed the next time that you woke." He makes his way over to a chair not far from Loner and settles into it. "She was sweet. And brought you a basket full of shrubberies. Might have something to do with it."
The Addict emerges from the hall of doorways. His long hair is tied back from his face with a ribbon, pale blue to match the silky tunic style top he's got on, with bell sleeves flaring to his wrists. The top falls loosely on his thin frame, and under it he's wearing white ankle-length leggings. No shoes. He's definitely Martin, but with the androgny turned up a few notches. He glances around, then ducks his head and moves toward the dispensers so quickly he almost runs into the Beast. He stops short and says, "Oh, my goodness. Sorry."
"Martin?" The woman once known as Eilis stops dancing as the Beast now insisting on going by Connor comes back out with fare to suit what she knows, hand reaching to squeeze the strong arm with gratitude as the things are dropped on a near table. She finally breaks her dancing silence to steal a bite with standing lean and stare at the Martinesque figure, eventually remembering to chew. Her glossed lips twitch with small smile and she shoves bread in her mouth before putting a silent inviting hand out to dance with her as greeting, despite where he's headed. The last personal time they had in Prosperity together was dancing, afterall, just to a different beat with a different pall over their heads.
The Rogue watched and quietly noted to Loner with a shake of his head, "Eeeh I'm inclined to disagree. That's making somethin to hold onto. I don't know many of us are actually taking it pretty well." He noted she's carrying Pierce Colton's cross on her neck like he was carrying Addie's ring in his pocket. He looked to Martin and 'Connor' lifting ahnad in greeting. Quietly he noted "Where we get a drink around here? Same place the coffee comes outta?"
"Are you saying Andrew wasn't an adorable ball of sunshine?" Loner looks at Beast with a flat, level look. Though that has to be a joke, doesn't it? He blinks a few times and turns back to watching the TV, only then letting a slight smirk run across his lips. Martin.. or was Martin gets a bit of a sideways look and an arched brow but he doesn't say anything instead turning his attention completely back onto the music videos. "Yup, just get it out of the dispenser." He nods in addition confirming Rogue's question.
The Beast gives a nod to Eilis when she accepts the food and reaches out to put a steadying hand on Martin's shoulder when they almost collide. He gives him a pat on the shoulder and says, "It's alright," seeming to take the near-collision in stride. Then he continues on to his seat, letting Eilis claim the man for a dance. Once settled, he looks back at Loner for a long moment and then a rare smile twitches at the edges of his lips. There are clearly some words to be said there about Andrew, but he doesn't speak them, instead just letting his attention shift back to those gathered, nodding in agreement as to where the booze comes from.
The Defender heads towards The Facility - Hall of Rooms
The Addict smiles at the Beast when he puts a hand on his shoulder, and he sidesteps the man. Only then does he pause to look around the room, and he blinks in rather happy surprise to see the Loner. "You're here," he says. Still trying to figure out who in Prosperity was real and who wasn't. That same happiness continues as he spies the Caregiver. He steps up to her to take the offered hand. Whatever he wanted from the dispensers, it can wait. "The whiskey here isn't all that bad," he tells the Rogue.
All the dancing Eilis has been doing up to this point has been upbeat, something to drown in, something to block all the noise out for new noise, new motion. But as Martin takes her hand, Time After Time is playing, perhaps fittingly. And maybe it's the memories of their last dance still poignant for her, all the things that came after carried with it. Her whole demeanor changes. She's not absorbed in music for distraction, she's not making something pretty out of pain on purpose. She's just lost, embracing it, and doing the steps with help. And it's tragically beautiful. She was made for the stage once upon a time.
Her squeeze on Martin's hand tightens and it's all a hybrid of the spins and motion she picked up as well as echoes of the two-steps of Prosperity, alternating between in close rock and cling and turns to flare her modern attire. At some point, she murmurs, "He was never going to let it be you."
No. Pierce Colton stood in for family and he stood in for the weak. Some things were inevitable. And she's letting herself feel that inevitable finally, step by step.
The Rogue nodded to Martin and noted to Eilis with a heavy heart, "Or me apparently." He turned to go find himself something to drink, "The man's impossible to dissuadeeven when you tell him no." Once-Caleb shook his head, "Next time we're taping his arms to his body so he can't fucking volunteer," He pointed to 'Connor' without looking at Beast, "And I'm getting ou a helmet. Big one." Because he was really over on Connor receiving head trauma and was willing to put money on him being in agreement. Fingers flexed into a fist as nible digits seemed to operate the dispenser. He squint at it, "Why do I know how to use this thing?" Beeeecause you were a computer tech on a spaceship. Yup. Gin it was.
The Loner shifts about in his chair flinging one leg over the side as he lounges in it. "I'm here." He confirms for the man he knew as Martin, though that Scottish accent is certainly no part of Glenn, pure Edinburgh. He looks back over his shoulder to the hallway of doors and frowns, then looks back towards the group, even if he does fix Connor with another flat look that doesn't have any heat to it, the corner of his lip twitching slightly at the momentarily shared joke, though someone heading to the dispensery catches his attention right quick. "Mind grabbing me a beer while you there?"
The Beast smirks over at Rogue and shrugs his shoulders, "Hey, at least it's quick. To be honest, I don't really remember any pain either time. So, as ways to go, abrupt head trauma is not the worst." He catches that look from Loner and that smile actually turns into a smile, and the faintest of chuckles. Then he takes a swallow from his mug. "We should go into one of those rooms. They're here. May as well make use of them." He glances over toward the doorways.
The Addict has kept his daancing skill from Prosperity, so maybe his time there wasn't all bad. The art of it is letting Eilis call the shots while making it look like he's leading. They danced so well back at the Hargreave manor, with a certain amount of intuition. Here, some of that shines through. He twirls her through the spins and then holds her close. "I know," he murmurs. "I'm so sorry, beautiful. I would have done it for you, if I'd known how it was going to go. I would've insisted."
The Rogue upnodded and replied in that tired but slow roll of well rounded vowels, "Ja no. I got yuir dop, man." One, two, and, a third? Something. He thought about it and watched the device curiously trying to analyze it. It kept the brain busy but Connor got a faint smile. "I was thinking about that.. maybe its good for us. Careful a anything too good we don't get our nose bit off, yeah?" He walked the drinks over handing one to Glenn and lifted the other with a nod to Martin nodding sideways indicating 'let her know'. He set it nearby and tried not to put a fist into the TV to make it stop antagonizing people.
The Loner accepts the bottle with a nod of thanks, taking a quick swig before examining the glass exterior. "Pretty good." He leans against one armrest, leg still dangling over the side, his foot unconsciously bobbing in beat to whatever song happens to be on the TV at the moment even if he's not paying it much attention. "We could always go to the bar on the Noc, I never spent enough time there. Made people uneasy, and I couldn't get drunk so it was kind of a waste." His mouth twists a bit. "And it'd be nice to see the stars again, I got used to having them." His gaze casts upwards towards the ceiling.
The Beast pulls himself up from where he was sitting and wanders over to one of the doors of the anywhere rooms and just, opens it up and steps through, just like that, without any further word or explanation, leaving the door open if anyone seems to feel like following him.
"He drugged me. Him and Cillian. I didn't have a chance once they were working together. You would have had none. Me not being there... set everything into motion with change. Don't be sorry. Be happy you got to live. I would have handed him the cup myself in the end to steal the guilt from both hands if they would have let me. We promised to end it together. But some things... even the strongest man can't take... I..." Eilis sighs to Martin as she leans back in against him and puts her head at his shoulder, rocking back and forth to watch the others start to move for a spell while her eyes are far away. Then she drops her mascara-darkened lashes to close and murmurs, "Thank you for the dance."
The Rogue paused considering and looked to Loner arching an eyebrow, "You know that whole stint I never got off the Heph? I'd really like to see it." He paused and halted any progress turning to Eilis offering, "If it helps I told him he's not doing it. I was going to finish what we started and he concussed be. Bam over hte back of the damn head. We can't change what happened, but we can fght to make those sacrifices worth it and that, lovely? That's all we can do. We tried. He didn't let any of us and we have to respect that as much... as it fekkin haunts me and I imaine you. Pardon." He looked to Loaner and said "Drinks. Many. Stars. Maybe we can just get off planet for a lil bit." And just steal a ship and go far away from the damn facility even in theory.
"Stubborn, the lot of them," Martin says, and the way he says it, it's not a compliment. He draws back a little so that he can look at Eilis' face, and he offers her a soft smile. "I'll always dance with you," he says. He presses a kiss to her cheek. "Is he here?" he asks hesitantly. "Have you seen him? I don't know who-all made it. Arthur did. I saw Miss Angeline, briefly."
The Loner watches the pair dance for a few moments as he sips at his beer. Though as Connor gets to his feet, once-Glenn gets up to his after a moment. "Many drinks, or many stars?" He comments to Rogue with a mild half-smile. Knowing the answer to that one without really needing to hear it. He looks over to the pair of dancers. "Come with us, you're in for a treat when you see what this place is like." He lifts the bottle with a bit of a salute and turns to head through the door which Connor disappeared through.