Log:Misery Doesn't Always Love Company
Ever since he learned that the woman who lived in the Hunter's room was gone, the symbol on the door had changed and the room itself, when he cared to take a peek inside, was completely different from the comfort that the room used to bring him, The Capitalist had remained scarce. He had kept himself tucked away in his room with the occasional visit from the Penitent from time to time to bring food or drink, but for the most part, aside from the small crack made by the opening of his door, in which he oberved the hallway through, especially that door, he hardly spoke to anyone else.
It's as if he expects the Hunter's symbol to change back to what it originally was. That's what the Capitalist was hoping for when he stepped outside of his door today. Dressed in his business attire, but due to his dark mood, his suit looks less than pristine: both the buttons and his tie are undone. Other than that, he is dressed in a fullt suit, shoes included. There's even a fancy watch around his wrist.
He can hear the voices coming from the parlor, but that doesn't interest him. Instead, he takes the necessary steps to bring himself to face what used to be Maata's door once again, his hands slipped into his pockets as he leans back, heavily against the wall across from that door. The symbol had not changed.
As more people had turned up, Bravo had somehow not run into them yet, some has been keeping herself to her room when she hears the voices, venturing out only when she is sure that there is going to be less chance to run into people. Why? No real reason beyond a brief bout of anti-socialism.
But today, noise in the parlor or not, Bravo ventures out into the hallway, her own door swinging open before she takes one step out, then turns on her heel to start carrying her down the hallway towards the direction of the parlor. Today finds her in simple clothes, no fancy suits and flashy watches for her. She's wearing a grey t-shirt, black blue jeans and bunny slippers that have their little ears flop up and down with each step that brings her towards where the Capitalist is leaning against the wall.
If it's not the Hunter's door opening, then the Capitalist doesn't seem all that interested. So even when the sound of another door swinging open, that turn of the handle and such can be heard coming from a few doors down from where he's standing, he doesn't immediately turn to investigate. No, he's far too pre-occupied on this one particular door, eyes never leaving that symbol. There's this black expression on his face, almost a look of boredom if you didn't catch that quiet intensity within his dark eyes.
Only when the Bravo gets close enough to even be a flicker in his peripheral vision does he finally give her some attention, his head turning ever so slightly just so that his eyes can regard her with some hint of curiosity. It was a new face, as far as he could tell. Not one that he recognized. But as she had not stepped out magically from Maata's room, she must be no threat. This one did not replace Maata.
There doesn't seem to be any threat from her, unless one was afraid of bunny slippers and people that disregard all the classic warning signs to just keep walking.
There's a glance towards the door, then Capitalist, then the door again before she veers from her straight path towards the parlor to find a spot on the wall next to him. Arms crossed she stares at the door, head tilted just a fraction before she wonders, "Are we expecting something to happen with the door? So far they've all seemed pretty standardly door like." The accent is generic, middle-America, but the voice itself is friendly enough, if a pitched more quietly than standard conversational levels.
Though it might not seem that way, the Capitalist quietly takes in everything that he can about this stranger, starting from her chosen attire, though one can't ignore a pretty face. It's easy to make quick judgement on whether you've seen someone or not in a previous memory, but the island was full of party-goers and he can't say that he never everyone aboard the Noc. Now, Prosperity was more of a tight knit group, even with the non-blooded locals, but no, this one was unfamiliar still.
If she hadn't said anything, he most likely would have allowed her to go on her merry way, but she is a curious sort who not only opens her mouth despite the troubled storm that may be found in the Capitalist's eyes, but she decides to linger, leaning against the wall the same as him.
While his heart might tell him 'yes' in response to her question, he gives out a flat, "No." instead. His eyes refocus on that symbol again. "It used to be different. I used to know the occupant of that door. Then I woke up again and that symbol had changed." And though he regrets to say this, he murmurs lightly, "I don't think it will revert back to what it once was. Maybe, unlike the rest of us, she is finally free from all of this."
There are a few things that can be taken away from what he says, and Bravo glances from the door back to him, brows twitching upwards a fraction, "So you're one of the ones that have been through all this before." It's a very basic observation, the evidence is in his comments, afterall. Then her attention moves back to the door, watching it for a little while longer in silence.
"Sorry that whoever used to be on the other side of the door is gone, but if you're certain that the door isn't going to be changing...Why are you watching it?" She raises one hand up, fingertips rubbing slightly against her chin before she snaps them, pointing towards the door, "You're waiting to see who else comes out it, aren't you? Might be a long wait, I've not seen anyone come out that door...but there are also a lot of doors, and I've not seen most of them open." She twists around, pointing back the way she came, "That's my door." It's hard to tell which door she's actually pointing too, since there are a number of different options for her to be indicating. "Which door is yours?"
His posture doesn't change, shoulders still slightly slumped, hands tucked deeply within his pants pockets as he continue to lean. His gaze continues to be transfixed on that one symbol. The Capitalist offers a single nod, "You can say that." Yes, he is one of those people. "What do you remember before coming to this place?" In truth, he rarely spoke to many of the other 'new faces', all of which were no longer new, as he'd seen them in Prosperity, so he's not quite sure what they know, what information they may hold.
There is no initial response to the apology, but with body language alone, it's not hard to tell that this is a man dealing with loss, and though he tries to hide it, there's this forlorn look on his features. "To be honest, I don't know. I'd like answers though," And only then does he finally shift in position, pushing himself from off against the wall to stand tall once more. A brief look is given down the hallway when the stranger indicates her room, a door that is very close to his own.
Taking one final look at the new Hunter's symbol, hands still in pockets, he heads in that direction to stop before his own door, staring at his own symbol: A man in fine clothes counting coins in his hands, various wares stacked behind him. "This one." Now that he's close enough to seeing what her actual symbol is, he idly turns to take a look at it.
"Oh, that one. Shiny things." Bravo observes as she follows him to his door, regarding the symbol on it while he turns to look at the symbol on her own door. It's a young woman that seems to be walking and showing off, people in the background looking on with awe. She leans towards his door, a hand reaching out to touch the coins, as though they alone were something to be fascinated by.
But after holding off on answering the question, she shakes her head, "Nothing. I don't remember anything." She decides, turning around to face him, her arms crossing over her chest, "I remember waking up here, and at first, it was just me...I found the things that give out food and stuff. I like coffee...and then slowly others began to show up. Now." She lifts one hand up, a single finger held up to beg for a second longer before he speaks up, "I realize that there could have been people here before I noticed them, seems to be a theme...I guess. You were here, before. I mean, gone, I got that part from two others that I met. But I don't remember anything from before...There has to be a before, I walk, talk, know things, I've no idea how I know how to do any of it. But there's no memories."
"I can't say that I understand what any of these symbols mean." The Capitalist says, his own eyes now studying the symbol on the woman's door, making note of the other figures within her symbol. Her fans, perhaps? That's when he notices her reach out to touch the coins within his own symbol, something which truly does shine and stand out in comparison to anyting else pictured, including the figure itself.
"We've tried to figure these things out and while I do see a pattern in some, any theories are often dismissed." Here, he lifts his shoulders into a shrug, "Then again, maybe these symbols sometimes shows a part of a person that they, themselves, are blind to."
The mention that she woke up here alone, before others began showing up, does get a slow nod from the man. "Most of us were living a new life in some dusty Old West town... fighting off demons." More curiosity comes over him, making him pay more attention to the woman than he had since she'd shown up just moments ago. "What do you go by? A name? Or do you really not have one?"
"Demons." Bravo repeats, her arms crossing over her chest, head tilting to the side, "Speaking of theories, I have one...and what my theory is...is probably nothing you care about. Right." She dismisses the thought as she moves to the wall next to her door, looking over it while he talks about it being some hidden part of themselves. "You think?" She reaches out, pointing towards it, "What do you think that means, then?"
Without waiting for an answer she shakes her head at the next question, "I don't have a name, and I've...no idea what I'd go by." She smiles faintly, almost whistfully, "No one has asked me that yet. So...yeah, no name. I don't go by anything. Sad, isn't it?"
When she echoes a word he'd said, 'demons', the Capitalist quickly states, "Don't ask." Before deciding that the more information shared, perhaps, the better to prepare someone for what's to come. "If no one's told you yet, these dreams or lifetimes that we live are never pleasant. Sure, they may start off nice and calming, but then things go to Hell and people start dying."
While, he really has no interest in hearing our theories from a new face, he inquires anyway. "Any theory is a good one, whether you're right or wrong." He gives her another hard look. While she may have a room, he had always been suspicious of these strangers, ever since the first one appeared after the Island. There's some paranoia about being unable to trust anyone who hasn't gone through the misery and pain that you have. When she asks about her own door symbol, the Capitalist thinks on this, though he's interrupted by what the Bravo says next. "You'll get a name in time. So far, I've gone by three different ones." All of those personalities, those memories shifting within his mind. "The last name I was given was that of Cillian McTavish." Just bringing up Cillian brings a hint of somberness to his tone, "I had a life after everything was said and done, the demons banished, only to find that I'm right back here."
Though she cared to change topics before he could even respond to one prior, he decides to add, his own gaze back on her door symbol, canting his head to the side to better take in this symbolism. "This confidence that you radiate inspires those around you." He goes on to say in an almost serious tone. Then there's a slight tug at the edge of his lips, "It could mean anything you want it to mean I'm sure." The briefest glances is given his own door, "I'm learning more and more about myself that seeing my own symbol right there, it's starting to make sense.
"If I'll get one...one they give me, then it's not my name." Bravo decides, a hand raising up to wave at the hallway, the doors, the parlor beyond it all in indication of which they she might be meaning. As though somehow, that might have been unclear. "I'll find my own name, and then it's mine." There's a stubborn determination in the decision, lips pressing together for a moment.
Just a moment, then she shrugs it off, lips twisting upwards into an easy smile. "Yeah, I'd heard about that, and I'd heard that you can't die here either. You wake up again..." She tilts her head, letting it thump against the wall before she shifts around to rest her back flat against the wall, then she sinks down onto the floor. "See, that's what brought me to this idea I had. That no one is REALLY dying. It's some sort of twisted science experiment, and we're all hypnotised, and implated with trigger words. Or things I guess." She glances upwards, brows lifting a second before she reaches out, patting the floor next to her, "So do you want to be called Cillian, or do you want a name of your own, too?"
The Capitalist has heard all about people picking names before. It never sat well with him then, but at that time, he only one had name and believed himself to be that person. And still, he doesn't look over pleased by the idea. There's this arrogance in his expression, something almost dismissive, when he says, "If that's what you'd like to do. It doesn't mean that anyone will call you buy it, of course, since there will most likely be a name that we're more familiar with associating with you."
The rest of what she says is something that he does take note of, thinking back on theories others had given, "That's not entirely strange, but then again, seeing as some believe that we're in Purgatory, anything is possible." He continues, "After my first awakening and even my second, with those memories still clear in my mind, I thought that I was in some kind of prison. We've had enemies in both lives, powerful enemies, so it wasn't too far-fetched to think that we may have been captured and locked away here. Now? I can't say."
Then she asks on what he'd like to be called and once she asks if he'd like a name of his own, he shakes his head, "If I do have a name, a real name, the person who I truly was before any of this, I'm going to find that out." She may have determination in her tone when deciding to make up her own name, that same determination can be heard in his when speaking of, basically, ending this charade.
"But no one has a name for me, now." Bravo points out thoughtfully, draping her forearms over her drawn up knees, head resting back against the wall once more, "See, in your position, that makes sense. Others obviously would like....know you from this Old West place, afterall. But me?" She shakes her head very faintly, smiling once more at him, "No one has a memory of me, or a name. So naming myself, why not? I guess it'd be better than someone shouting across the dining room hey you, and not knowing which you they mean, right?"
"Tell me about them?" The change in topic is abrupt. "Your memories. The demons, and all that stuff. Tell me about them?"
The Loner arrives from The Facility - Parlor.
The Bon-Vivant arrives from The Facility - Parlor.
Both the Capitalist and the Bravo are lingering in front of a pair of doors, their own, One has the symbol of a lavishly dressed man counting coins and the other a confidant woman with other background figures looking upon her in awe. The Capitalist himself is dressed in a suit, though his tie is undone and so are some of the buttons on his jacket. Their conversation is casual enough and that morose look that he had worn just prior, on exiting his own room, has almost faded. Almost.
"You are correct in that regard." He speaks up to her, "In that case, if you'd like, feel free to make up a temporary name. There are countless baby name books in the bookshelves, others have been using them earlier." Though it's her curiosity about his most recent, or all of his memories together, that gains the most of his attention. "The first thing I remembered, I was hosting an event on an abandoned island... Wyred Fest." He has to cringe when he utters that name, "The island, unknow-- or perhaps known to us, was cursed. But who ever believes in those things, right?"
It's the bunny slippers. Hard to be morose around the bunny slippers, afterall. Which is what she wears along with a pair of black jeans and grey t-shirt. When Capitalist starts to talk about the island she nods, "Right, curses are pretty crazy." She agrees, a brow lifting upwards a fraction of a second before she shakes her head, "Right. Okay, so you were hosting some sort of fest of the wyred, on an island that was cursed, known or unknown." She gives a brief thumbs up to indicate she's still with him on this. She's following, for as much as following is possible in this conversation.
The door with the image of a man huddled alone in darkness (likely not the most inviting door) swings open and the Loner peeks out his head. The sound of a familiar voice having drawn him out more than a need to leave his room at this exact moment. Though his eyes come to rest on Capitalist almost immediately. Where before in the facility he had always previously seemed a bit antipathetic towards the man this time he, well, it's not quite a smile but it's close as he can come. "Ci.." He stops himself. "Conrad." Afterall, last time he had a conversation with the man that was the prefered name.
The Loner's eyes then drift towards the other speaker, offering a polite nod as to an acquaintance. Then back to Capitalist. "Giving her the introduction?"
The Rogue arrives from The Facility - Parlor.
Another door opens. To the Bravo, they're surely all new, but the design in the woodgrain of this one's new to the others as well: a well-dressed man, surrounded by other partygoers, laughing as he sprays an impressive fountain of champagne from a bottle in his hands. The man emerging is not currently doing either, though he is quietly singing, "Take me home tonight, I don't wanna--" Quietly, and not notably well, though it could be worse. Passable karaoke level, if it weren't a capella. Well-dressed depends on your opinions; he's barefoot, in a light cashmere sweater with a Fair Isle pattern, and dark blue jeans. They fit well.
He shouldn't look startled to see people in the hall, not with this many doors, but he does anyway. "Oh. Hey," he greets them as his door closes, flashing a brief but brilliant grin. Either very much in keeping or not at all with the fact that he's got a bottle dangling from one hand by its neck, empty but for a few faint golden drops at the bottom.
"I was--" the Capitalist is about to speak the very name that the Loner now does. "Yes. Conrad. Conrad Wellson." While Conrad held no true animosity towards the Loner on the island, the man's very presence used to be vexing to him then, popular rock star or not! This time, however, with Cillian's own memories still incredibly fresh in his mind, so much that he can't help but feel that he truly lived that life, his eyes settle on the mousy looking young man. "If I'm being honest, Glenn." It just comes out automatically, the name of Cillian's cousin, "I have no idea what I'd prefer." Then to the group, "All of these memories have been a part of us and sometimes we gravitate strongly to one in particular, but that aside, Cillian's was the one where I felt I experienced life to the fullest while also losing the most."
It's the appearance of another stranger, a loud one at that, that draws the Capitalist's full attention now. He has a feeling that this one couldn't possibly be a mole for their Overseer jailers. A nod given the man in greeting, it is the Loner who he speaks out to now, "And yes, I mean, she asked." He continues on, "The next life I lived was some time in the future aboard a space station. Well, the ship that I came in on was the an old mining ship, but most of what happened occurred aboard the Noc."
"Conrad?" Bravo glances towards Loner, then towards Capitalist when he mentions another name, then back to Loner. She does that back and forth look a few times before she just nods, "Alright, C." She pushes herself back up off the floor as the hallway starts to get a little busier, a hand raising to rub the back of her neck, head tilting to the left, then the right, working out the crick that was beginning to form from looking up.
The singing, well, she pauses in her stretching, glancing towards the man before she laughs briefly, a hand then moving to cover her mouth, knowing that it's an inappropriate time for laughter. "So a space station called the Noc?" She then drops her hand, "And an island with Wyred Fest....and some old west town with demons."
The Loner slips out of his room completely, leaving the door a little ajar as he leans himself up against the wall. He, too, is barefoot with his usual oversized baggy sweater, today in a light grey, and black pajama bottoms. The man's wardrobe doesn't contain a lick of color it seems. "I met he the day I got back." He states to Capitalist with another polite nod in Bravo's direction. "Told you a lot more would be showing up." Through that Scottish accent of his his tone is a bit dry. And even dryer where an unfamiliar face joins them. A much too cheery face. "Not this one, though." He stares for a moment then back to the pair that originally had his attention. "I think the skeletons were the more important part of the island."
The Rogue pulled the apple out of his side picket of his cargo-pants and bit into it with a juicy crunch. "I told you," said the man in the quiet south African accent, "not to go back and yet? You did." He pointed a finger to the Capitalist shaking the apple at him. He fell quiet and walked over not comforted but at least finding the smallest peace in one of his most familiar of faces. Funny how it works out. He extended a hand and earnest gesture sounding not at all like himself and looking much better grooming-wise. "Relieved t'see you mate." he nodded to the others "Allo."
"Skeletons, aliens, and demons," the Bon-Vivant says, maybe just a touch brighter than he should, though at least it's getting close to the right level of serious. Probably wouldn't be fair to expect him to quite match the attitudes of the ones who went through it. "Chance -- that's the big redheaded guy, right? -- was talking about the Encounters last--" Not afternoon. Not night. "...time I ran into people. Did you all go through all of those? It sounds fairly fucked up. Exciting, but fucked up." The Bravo gets a smaller smile for her stifled laugh, and he leans his shoulder lightly against the wall, looking everyone over. "Sorry, I still have about four percent of a clue what's going on so far, beyond no one's totally sure and everyone's really depressed about it."
"The Tenochtitlan Station to be exact." The Capitalist speaks out the Noc's full name. "But obviously, who the hell was going to call it that. I was Rhys Driscoll," And right on cue, once he says this, in comes the Rogue and his apple. "That wasn't my call." He makes sure to assert. "We left it up to the new Captain to decide..." Then he realizes something, "Captain Chevalier was...Llesenia in Prosperty." That was something that had not occurred to him until recently. To the Bon-Vivant now, his eyes giving the other man a scutinizing once over, he answers, "Some of us have experienced three different lives." Now, his gaze shifts to the Loner for a briefest of moments, "Others, as far as I can tell, twice." That's when he says in a more solemn tone, "And from what I've just been told, there are those who were here once, who've now gone. Disappeared."
"And curses." Bravo adds, tilting her head in Capitalists direction, "He said the island was cursed." There is no mental connection made between a curse and skeletons, however. The newest of the arrivals, with the apple, is glanced towards then, noting that some of them greet each other, once more, with familiarity she nods faintly. "And some of us have nothing." She adds to the list of things, a hand raising to just sort of wave in the air, "That'd be me, I'd be one of those with the nothing. So..." She drops her hand back down, arms crossing over her chest, "You ever feel the need for a lot of drinking?"
There's a solemn nod from the Loner as Capitalist looks in his direction. "Three." He mutters, sounding almost annoyed by the number. "And that damned TV has me worried." He looks in the direction of the parlor. "It was playing Westerns before we popped up in Prosperity, have you seen what's on it this time?" His face darkens a little and he gives a shudder. "Andrew would be spitting nails." He shoves his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants, lips pressing into a thin line, in that moment looking very Glenn. He does give a nod to Rogue as he appears, then right back to Bravo at the mention of drinking. "All the bloody time." From the mouth of someone who looks like they might not be old enough to drink in certain countries.
The Rogue nodded slowly to Bravo with some certainty, "Could very well be in the market for a dop or four." Likely he meant a drink somewhere in the rolling vowels there. He nodded in slow agreement with him and fell quiet toward the end of C's assessment. "It is." Too close to home. He paused though to remember their new ship captain with a squint, "That was Senni." His lips pressed together and he looked to the new person. "Well... seems everyone got hit. Any advice t'ye? I can say from certainty 'winning' only means you pay the high cost twice."
"Oh, thank fuck, I was starting to wonder if that was just me," the Bon-Vivant says to the Bravo, more conversationally than the interjection might suggest, "...on both fronts, really, but I got the feeling the latter might be more common." A slight gesture -- with the bottle, though that's probably coincidental -- toward the Loner when he gives his own vote for alcohol. "For one thing, I didn't come up with any drinks the dispensers wouldn't make for me, yet. Food, either. Answers they're kind of short on, though."
He glances at the bottle, fleetingly, then at the others again. "I dunno, I like what's on the TV. Can't find any other music, that's the one thing that sucks about the room I'm in. So it was playing Westerns before you got thrown into being cowboys? Maybe we're going to be pop stars or something in the next one. I'm pretty sure I could work with that." The Rogue's advice to the new blood gets a half-smile. "Chance's advice to me was don't think too hard about it." A small pause. "Not as easy as you'd think."
Apparently, the Capitalist had not left his room long enough to be bombarded by what's on the tele this time around. "It can't be as bad as watching old Westerns 24/7." The music, however, does travel, so even though he knew that the only radio they had last time only played the classical melodies, he just assumed that this time around it was spouting something else. "Anything is better than the countdown we were forced to watch during our first stint here. I'll take anything over that." Hopefully, he wont' soon regret those words.
"That's the thing, Caleb." The Rogue's Western name being the first thing out of his mouth, "There are others who are gone. I saw Victor from the Island in Prosperity, though I can't recall if I ever saw him here." He moves on, "Jeremiah too, I'm told, is gone. The symbol on his door changed." There is one name that has been on his mind since stepping foot outside of his door the first time in this cycle, but that is not a name he dares speak aloud, even if he's peering off into the distance, through the others, to view her door down the hall. "That means that there's a way to leave this place." His tone heavy and serious, before he adds in quickly, "Or whatever happened to them is worse than we'll ever know. Until it's our turn." A small shrug follows.
"That'd be the dying, right?" Bravo wonders, her attention turning towards Rogue when he suggests paying a high cost twice, then she glances down the hallway in the direction of the parlor, and the offending television. She shakes her head, having formed no actual opinions on that before looking back to the group gathered, "The fact that people aren't showing back up is pretty interesting." She holds her hands up, weighing the thoughts, "Got out, escaped, died for real, were never really here and it's all some twisted figment of a dark mind." She then drops her hands back to her side, "I've not experimented with the drinks, but I've got it on good authority that the gin is real, and tastes like unpoisoned gin. Which is very comforting."
"MTV, 1980s MTV." Loner actually manages to shudder a little before looking in Bon-Vivant's direction. "I've done the rock star thing already. It kinda sucks. Or maybe I was just bad at doing it." He looks over to Capitalist, who probably was at the unpleasant end of most of Andrew's tongue lashings, and he actually looks guilty for a moment. Just the barest moment.
"Maata's gone, too." Loner states, almost casually. "And I haven't seen Valerity.. Wynne since she tried to murder everyone on the Noc." There's a sour twist of his mouth at that particular memory. "Personally, I'm not sure those leaving are going anywhere better, not as long as new stock keeps showing up." He sighs and gives a rueful shake of his head, though talk of alcohol pulls him right back. "It makes a good Scotch, and even if it was poisoned you'd just wake up back in your room."
The Rogue looked from Cillian to the Loner actually and both eyebrows went up. Those sharp blue eyes glanced from Loner to C to Loaner to C, and back down the hall and to the group, "We know someone who's familiar with the doors? Iiiiif what you're saying is true- unfortunate as that is-" he looked to Glenn-who-is-not-Glenn and offered, "Maybe I can narrow down where we can find Addie and if she's alright." Well that's at least the first optimistic thing he's come up with, but was new in the belly of the facility and really lacked other anchors. Consistently he seemed to be allergic to his people being unaccounted for. Except that one time. Ahem.
He paused long enough to try to process 'dying' at all anymore. "Mo's not here and he'd been seen a few times from what I gathered. If nothing else? It tells me there's a second bunk...somewhere." He looked to C and offered, "Like when we were on the Heph. Compartmentalized things in case there's a problem. Maybe they were just moved. My quetion... is how many of these things are run in tandem where we have to look for our missing people?" The thought quieckly ended as it begana nd a hand went up. "Sorry I've been... obsessing and my brain's not slowing down. I'm sorry. I'm just... this shite's a mite bit upsetting."
"So does the whiskey, the scotch, the bourbon, the vodka, the rum, the tequila, and all the cocktails I had it make," the Bon-Vivant says to the Bravo. "...a lot of them I only tasted, granted, even if we can't die alcohol poisoning sounds unfun. It makes good sushi, too. And cake. And strawberries. And those candies that fizz in your mouth. I didn't think it'd have that one."
A restless shift of his foot, less casual than the rest of how he's holding himself. "Missing people could've been released for doing well. Or properly killed for doing badly. Or because whoever felt like it. Or be in some other Encounter somehow, or on another whatever this is, or turned into someone new and we just don't know it. I don't KNOW I wasn't here before. I just don't think I was. None of us really even know what this place is, right?" He looks down the row of doors, and back to the Rogue. "Why not just open all the doors? I mean, okay, knock first, but."
At the Bravo's respose to the Rogue, The Capitalist shakes his head slowly, "Not always. Like I said, I survived Prosperity." And here, he tries his hardest to piece together what followed after he and Nettie left the town, "I got married, had a child. We were nearin' the first anniversary of our ridding the town of those demons. Last thing I remembered, I went to sleep beside the wife... Anette." Madison. Just the fact that his wife in Prosperity was his sister on the Island still troubles him. "And I woke up here." There's a quick shake of his head, "Believe me, I wasn't all that happy to see the lights turn on with those damn motion sensors and waking up in that room again." He then states firmly, "We escaped, we were happy.... some of us, and all of that was ripped from us. It happened to me twice." Which means that he had died at least once out of his three lives.
While he was avoiding bringing up Maata, Glenn does just that and just hearing her name spoken aloud hits him hard. It stuns him for a time, all of this talk of the Island was already conjuring up happier memories only to have all of that suddenly disappear. The Capitalist doesn't hear some of what more is being said, though Addie's name, for whatever reason, draws him back to the present. "Addie was Addie on the island too, strangely enough." His attention focuses on no one in particular, still keeping watch on the Hunter's door as he speaks. "She should be here by now at the same time as the rest of the survivors." Though hell if he knew which was her door!
"I'll be sure to partake of the booze, then." Bravo assures them, although she strangely hasn't so far, despite the suggestion of all this driving her to drinking. "So you lived, and then just..." She lifts a hand, snapping her fingers, "Poof, right back here?" She then pauses, "I can't say that I've see a kid around here." Might not be as comforting as she means it to be. She pushes away from the wall, although she doesn't go any further than to give Capitalist's arm a pat when he goes back to staring at the door he was looking at earlier. "So some people leave, and some people come." She gestures towards her own door, "Am I the first from there?"
"Wait. You married, that's right, Nettie and..." Suddenly all the pieces fall together in Loner's head and he looks right at Capitalist and gives a visible full body shudder. Though after a moment he manages to clear his head and sighs. "If surviving was all we had to do I wouldn't even be here in the first place. I made it off that bloody island." He does look at the door behind Bravo, however, scrunching his brows down in thought. "I don't remember knowing anyone who was behind that particular door, but I've not been the most dilligent at meeting everyone." He crosses his arms over his chest, following Cap's eyes right towards the Hunter's door, then back. "I'm sorry." He says softly, his eyes drifting to another door further down the hallway, the Beast's, then back. "This whole thing is just fucked up."
The Rogue listened to Cillian or...C hearing him out. He was routinely these days the man with the other half of his plan and maybe it was that habit of surviving on the wits of one another that left him inclined to keep doing so. He held the apple in one hand and fished out something folded in the other handing it to his conditional partner-in-crime. He licked his lower lip thoughtfully trying to sort the phrasing. Soberly he offered to the man trusting he didn't have to go into great detail, "Woke up. Found this there. Ma's ring too. Before I woke up? Just celebrated our anniversary with the boy we named after her brother that died, Evan." He looked to the new people so maybe the math might do them good later. "Addie's the one that lived but she's the one missin? i'm iclined to feel these things aren't related." It didn't matter how casual he tried to keep it, it was raw and it hurt, but damn if he was going to lethimself lose his head about it. his hand fell to C's shoulder overing a comisseration for those morning the loss of their fmaily right now and took the paper back.
"I'd offer you a drink, but I'm out right now," the Bon-Vivant says to the returnees, and sighs. "And I don't know what else I can do but say 'sucks, man, sorry'. Which... Sucks, man. Sorry. Lemme know if there's something useful to do."
He glances toward the doors that the others seem concerned about, but still aren't touching. "So. Don't think about things too hard, and Shakespeare was full of it on the better to have loved and lost thing. Anything else we oughta know? Am I the first from there?" A gesture to his own door, of course. "How does it decide where to put us? Are the rooms all the same inside? And what's the story with names, 'cause I have /no/ idea who I am," which does not come off quite as nonchalant as it would probably prefer to, "and most of you seem to keep switching up how you refer to each other. If I'm following, which frankly I might not be. Feels like I walked in halfway through everything."
There's no response to the pat that Bravo gives him in consolation to what she can only perceive as something that had been distressing him this whole time, despite him not coming out and saying just that. The only thing that he can say to the Loner regarding Cillian's marriage is, "Yeah..." Those who knew them from the Island and even some who had run into the Capitalist and the former Hunter after the Noc may have seen hints of their relationship then. The apology that follows, coming from the Loner again, makes him fall quiet for another moment.
Eventually, he speaks up, "I... don't think I ever saw Addie here, in this place, if I gotta be honest." This is now spoken to the Rogue, hearing his concerns that just as Maata was missing, Addie was missing too. His gaze now torn away from what used to be Maata's room, he stands there with the others, in this very long hallway with so many doors to either side of them.
"It's easy enough to figure out which room belongs to who, if we start asking around." The Capitalist starts, adding in now, "Though I am familiar with some of these rooms, having been here three times." He considers the Bravo's room first, trying to think if he can recall who was there last. "I know someone had occupied it once, though it wasn't someone I was familiar with." Despite the room being next to his. Though when the Bon-Vivant asks the same question, all he can do is shake his head. "I wish I could say, but truth is, I know that both rooms had a symbol on it, I hadn't noticed that they changed until you both pointed it out. Though as for names," A brief looks is given the pair of new faces, "Like I told the young lady in the bunny slippers, you'll get one when it's time for you to live a,' He does't say 'your', "life. Your name will probably change with each dream or life you live, unless you're Addie..."
"So..." Bravo pauses, then glances down at her bunny slippers, "That works. Bunny." She lifts one foot, wiggling it a bit to cause the ears to flop back and forth before she leans against the wall once more, "So there were others before us, even if no one saw them...And this Addie has both had the same name, and never gets seen?" She glances up and down the hallway, then stares momentarily at C, before looking at Loner, then Rogue, "Don't you all think that's really odd? I mean, it's the strangest thing I've heard so far."
She pushes away from the wall again, this time the movement kind of sudden as some thought seems to occur to her, and she steps out into the hallway, grabbing the arms of whoever happens to be the unluckiest to be within grabbing range, "GUYS. GUYS. What if this ADDIE is the one that is running this entire shitshow?"
"I don't even really feel full comfortable with any of the names I've been. It feels wrong to take those identities as my own." Loner frowns a bit, then shakes his head. "I've seen a few faces multiple times, but never here. My stylist on the island was my assistant on the Noc. But I've never seen her here, nor did I see her in Prosperity." He taps his fingers against his arm and slowly shakes his head at Bravo's thoughts. "That doesn't feel right. I don't think the one running this would put themselves in to suffer with us, it seems off. If anything, I'd pin it on the demons from Prosperity, there was enough megalomania there for this."
Loner looks off down the hallway. "And you said you recognized Mo? What about Vie? Or Barbas?" He arches a brow as he turns back to Cap expectantly, his face too much a copy of Glenn's once he had an idea in his head and the bit in his mouth.
The Rogue looked to the new kid on the corridor without the bunny slippers. THEN looked to Bunny when she suggests his wife he went to hell and back with was the architect to this madness, blinked and back to Bon-Vivant. "I think I'll take you up on that dop, man." This was going to warrant a drink. He tucked the folded photo away in the side of his green-grey cargo pants and mused the unfortunate, "So... she's just gone? She really... just doesn't exist." He wasn't certain which reality of this really stung more. He looked to C and bit his apple. "We need to find us a better resort." TO say the least.
Regarding Not_Glenn he had to agree there, "I mean Bunny's a good name if ya like it. I was a Franis once. Doesn't... feel mine. He called me Sinclair, but I'll be honest those aren't the memories I really want to carry around for fear of being killed, eaten, or adrift in space ." He considered that. "Who the bloody hell are we? I dunno. I'm so fekkin lost between people who refer to themselves third person and those that don't... I dunno what to tell you other than maybe getting by is key. There is one truth: it is not going to not hurt."
The Bon-Vivant glances down at the Bravo's feet, and there's another quick grin. "Good slippers," he says, though he doesn't look convinced about the name situation, one part or another. Whatever he might have said about it gets cut off by Bravo's exclamation, probably partly because if the doors are alphabetical, it was most likely him or the Capitalist she was going to get hold of, and as it turns out, it's both of them. He blinks, either at the arm-grab or the force of the exclamation, though he doesn't pull away from it, and seems to actually think about it for a few seconds.
"...nah, I think I'm with the Scot here, unless when she's in the Encounters things mostly go her way. From what everyone's been saying this sounds more like you'd wanna sit back and watch it with some popcorn if you were in charge, not play captive. Chance said there's a lot of people they see in Encounters who never show up here, so maybe she's just one of those? ...maybe those people are in another place like this." He glances at the still sadly empty bottle he's holding, at the Rogue, and then at the group as a whole. "Dining room?" he suggests.
With the Bravo trying to piece fragments of everything told her together, the Capitalist seems content to listen, though again, it's odd for him to take in what new face's say, for they've never experienced everything that some of the others have, especially, when they are now tugging onto your arm and the other guy closest to her. Sure, the bunny-footed's actions disturbs his expensive suit a bit, but his tie was already undone, what's more wrikling of his jacket sleeve? "I don't know what Addie is, but both times that I recall seeing her, she was right there with us, fighting the good fight. Unlike," And this is where what the Loner says comes in, "Yeah, I recognized Mo. He was the guy who trapped us on the island and.. had the security trailer rigged." To explode... with him in it. "If I knew that back when we were in Prosperity," there's anger in his tone, "It's a good thing that he's gone." Considering the others, he continues, "The Devil was actually the bartender at the brothel on the Noc and Giles. You don't remember him? That was Weyland, the.." He's trying to remember more clearly now, "The President... CEO of Weyland-Yutani. I don't think I'd ever forget either of their faces."
He has no opinion on a woman who wants to name herself bunny, but it's better than 'hey you', or 'the lady', he supposes. "I've always felt like the memories I have, those people were me. It's why the first time around, I refused to be told otherwise. The second time, I took Madison hostage, because I was still in Driscoll's head... or he was in mine. You do what you can when you believe that you're being hunted by the big corps." That leaves Cillian McTavish and here the Capitalist's tone softens, "I was devastated waking up here again after Prosperity. Everything you've for, all that you loved, the life I created at Nettie's side. All of that, just gone."
Eventually, he returns to the topic of Addie, just for the Rogue's sake, "I'm not going to say that she's not real or that she doesn't exist. There have been a few who refused to leave their rooms after particularly difficult memories. They admitted it later, after their second time here."
At the suggestion of a change in venue, the Capitalist considers this. He hadn't eaten nor had anything to drink all day. Nor was there an actual need to in this place. "I'll pass." Despite all of this sharing going on here, to him, it was started as simply informing one woman of things that he's experienced, that quickly blew up! "You all go on ahead."
The quick kabosh put on that idea has her frowning, "Oh. Well." Bravo releases her hold on people, at least, damage done to suit and potentially dignity, though. "I don't know, I was just thinking that if it was me, and I was smart enough to do all this, then I'd be right there, too. Because that is what you'd expect least." As evidenced by everyone's disagreement with the theory.
Whatever discouragement happened by that is short-lived, because she shakes her head at the suggestion of the dining room. "I think I might just stick close to home for the time being. Maybe do some thinking, or reading...something."
Loner had lowered his hand to dig into the pockets of his baggy pants while the others talked, fiddling with something in the pocket that he left hidden. For now. "I envy you guys being here before having to go through that. The first time is a bitch and a half, and waking up here with those memories and having to deal with this place for the first time?" He puffs out his cheeks then sighs. "You have a leg up on that one. All I can say is when we do go out there and you come back. Remember to breathe." He glances up the hallway towards the parlor and shakes his head. "I've, uh, I'm just going to go lay down." With a small wave behind him as he turns to head into his room, the Facility's King of the Introverts retreats back into his hole having socialized for the day as much as he is comfortable with. The door gives a soft click as he closes it behind him.
The Rogue watched C in the fancy suit and he, himself, still dressed down to get some dirty work done. Some things seem to track. He thought about the possibilities he was given and really thought about it. When Cillian talks about all of it being just gone he nodded slowly. Same boat. He offered as an olive branch< "I'll keep my eyes out for you too. Let you know if I see anything turns up." He pointed with index finger and pinky out down the hall. "I'm at that end if you want company to just talk or play a game of chess. For whatever reason a board I have." Which suited him just fine and gave his tangent thoughts something to focus on.
At Bunny's reasoning though he arched an eyebrow and the South African lauded, "I'm impressed. We should talk later." Looking to Bon's offer he looked past to the commissary and back, "If you want to bring the drinks by? That's be kein. Martin and Artur are having a reunion and I don't want to step on it. Just... not ready to be in a celebrating mood, if ya catch me." He shrugged, "Open invite though or tomorrow." He rubbed his face which was oddly clean shaven compares to his previous incarnations. "C... if it's any consolation? i'm relieved to see ya." And with that the Rogue took his apple with him down the hall to the far end.
The Bon-Vivant lifts a hand in farewell to the Loner, as the guy disappears through a door; he studies which door it is for a moment, probably making a mental note. "...we can't make anything that won't disappear overnight, right? Because a big map of doors and names and shit would be nice. Could mark who's been seen on it, too, or mark ourselves as being around." Wait, everyone's going, even the guy who wanted the drink? The Facility's King of the Introverts may be happy with the way this is running, but the somewhere-in-the-royal-family-anyway of the Extroverts is clearly less so. The fingers not holding the bottle tap lightly against his leg. Well, okay, bringing things by might do...
"I feel like if we start thinking other people here are the jailers or overseers or staff or whatever, we're going to get paranoid and either hide in our rooms or start figuring out ways to test that no one can die thing a lot. We're basically just doing a lot of debating religion and the meaning of life when you get down to it, we just think there's definitely got to be an answer this time." A light shrug. "We should talk some time," he says to the Bravo -- no, Bunny -- in particular, "since we're both new." He glances down the extremely long hallway again, this time more thoughtfully.
As the Capitalist prepares to retreat into his own room, thankfully, it's practically right in front of him, he fights this urge to take one last look down the hall at the Hunter's door. It makes him look as if he's hesitating when he reaches for the handle to his door, though to something that the Bon-Vivant brings up, he stops and turns to respond, "Notes don't disappear. I've taken a lot of notes since I first arrived here and they are always where I left them. Very much the way that if you are reading a particular book, it doesn't find itself back on the shelves until you're done with it. So feel free to take as many notes as you'd like." He'll assume that everyone has a professional desk set up like he does, but he tends to be all business some of the time.
His door finally open, giving the others a glimpse into what looks like a lavish-enough decidedly masculine bedroom with dark wood everywhere, the wall painted grey. Almost as if it were some fancy corporate hotel suite. "Not all of us are hiding due to our paranoia. You'll learn soon enough, these memories can sometimes leave scars." A pause, "As do some of the relationships you build here." Though he doesn't go into further details there. "I'm sure, I'll see you both around before our time is up and we're thrust into the next big thing."
Curiosity being what it is, when that door opens she looks in, her brows lifting upwards before she nods, expression looking impressed before she shakes her head, "My room does not look like that." She takes a step towards her own door, starting to push it open, holding it that way with one foot so that she can add, "I'm right here, if anyone needs company."
The gesture towards her door, and the room beyond is very Vana White like, very TADA. The room beyond is sleek, brightly colored, and utter chaos with books, makeup, clothes all over the place. It looks like a tornado went off in there, and since things get cleaned up at night, it's a sign she was entertaining herself going through everything today.
"Oh, I didn't mean that's why people weren't out here now. Just that seems like what'd happen," the Bon-Vivant says, "But notes stick? Huh. That could be handy. I wonder how it decides what gets reset and what doesn't?" He takes a definite peek into the Capitalist's room while the door's open, and doesn't look particularly surprised by it -- more so by Bunny's remark, and he leans to take an even more obvious look at hers when she opens it. The view makes him grin again, though. "Was it like that when you woke up or have you been checking it out?" he asks. "My room doesn't quite look like either of yours. Bit more like his, if I had to say, but..." He glances at his door. "Well, I assume it's my room, anyway. I really wasn't sure whose it was, to start with, but the place seems pretty sure about it." He reaches over to open his own door, enough that one can glance in; there's dark wood like Cap's, but also a fair bit of colour and a lot of texture. A grey wall that seems to be made of blocks of stone, behind the bed. Sheepskin rug. It's neater than Bunny's right now, but still looks like he's probably been rummaging through things in there. "Same on the company. I'll probably come bug you," he says, looking first to her, then to Capitalist, "...and yeah, probably see you soon too. Hope things settle down okay for you."