Log:Redefining A Relationship
It's been a few days now, give or take, time in the Facility is a mystery, since The Capitalist's second awakening. He's taken things slowly this time around, but has been occupying his time both outside of his private room to socialize and observe the others who had the unfortunate circumstance to wake up here as well, and then to retreat back to his room for reflection, drink and what he just happens to be doing today.
While Conrad was no stranger to a gym, probably an expensively private one at that, Driscoll, with his line of work, keeps in top physical shape when he can, so using this time to himself, he's down on the floor doing push-ups, then pausing in a 20 second plank, before doing more push-ups. He's wearing a pair of sweatpants, sans shirt, but strangely, he continues to wear Conrad's watch on his wrist.
Once again, after knocking and announcing herself... the Hunter just lets herself right in. She's also brought something to drink again. Some decent scotch. Not overly rich, but good stuff all the same. She's still just wearing shorts, it seems. Black, with a white tee worn over top today. A simple outfit, hair left down. Her own workouts are probably similar, considering the floor mats in her room. She's always been more inclined to running. Even Michel tended to go for a treadmill more often than not, likely savoring it after having lost a leg. To the Hunter... it's a sense of freedom. One lost here in the Facility.
She lets the door fall closed behind her, watching him as he works and unabashed about admiring the way the muscles flex and work through his arms and back. She leans back against the door as she does, crossing one leg over the other. "You know," she offers quietly. "I have a theory that since all injuries reset in the morning... We don't need to actually do that." Not that it's stopped her.
As he's positioned facing the door, he immediately notices when it swings open after hearing the knock, though that doesn't stop him from his count. The Capitalist breathes at a steady pace, drawing in a deep breath of air with each rise; even with her presence here, he does not miss a beat. Due to the exertion behind the activity, his hair isn't perfectly styled, in fact much of it falls into his face because he is facing the floor. Then again, he might not have even styled it at all.
Yet, he still finds time, and breath, to respond to the question as he silenty keeps count in his mind, "This helps me think." Then he falls quiet, ending the rountine with a final 20 second plank, before giving his body some rest. Shifting into a seated position, he reaches out for the plush bathroom towel that he had left on the floor beside him and begins to dry himself off.
"How have you been...?" They've not spent much time together since his awakening. He knows that much. The question, itself, is not without the hint of concern in his tone as he lifts his dark eyes to regard the woman, watching for her response.
It's not as if she hasn't seen him in a disheveled state before. She's perhaps even commented a time -- or four -- that she rather likes the way his hair falls into his face. In the end, the Hunter looks down as she pushes off from the wall and opens the bottle. It's clear she had a couple drinks before she even got to his door and another follows. Just a quick slug before the bottle is capped. When she lifts her gaze it's to review the room. "Still trying to reconcile the two voices in my head," she says lightly. A little too lightly, really.
Taking a deep breath, the woman that is neither Maata nor Michel and struggling to find some parity between both crosses to take a seat across from the Capitalist. She reaches to offer the bottle out to him after finally forcing herself to meet his eyes. "I've been trying to come to terms with something and I've realized it's something I can't do solo nor would it be right to."
Water would be the better option for drink after a workout, but the Capitalist isn't going to turn down booze right now. With the towel draped over his shoulders, he blots at the sweat at the side of his neck and face, before reaching for the offered scotch. He's still taking this time to catch his breath some and letting his heartrate slow. "I've been doing a lot of reflecting myself." He cares to share, right before taking in a deep swig of scotch, before passing it back to her. "Thanks."
This odd proposition does pique his curiosity, something seen in the way his lifts one of his brows. Rather than remain seated though, he rises to stand, giving his muscles a little stretch, all the while continuing with the toweling, "What...did you have in mind?"
Taking the bottle back, the Hunter considers it and seems about to go for another drink before holding off. What she does do is pull a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of her bra. Look, shorts like those little athletic shorts she's wearing tend to not come with pockets! After the bottle is capped and set by her hip, she lights a cigarette and drops pack and lighter next to the bottle. Dragging foot along carpet so that a knee is upright to lean on, she drags deeply on the nicotine and exhales slowly as she considers how to respond.
This time, again, she just looks past him towards the desk in the room. This, perhaps, to avoid looking up at him as much as to avoid looking at him. "Maata was in love with Conrad. Is in love with Conrad." The words are offered carefully, but awkwardly in that crooked voice of someone struggling to get them out. "But while Thorne likes Rhys a lot, it's nothing like that." It seems speaking of it in the third-person is the only way to start this for her. "I am not just one or the other and I can't just... choose one or the other. I've been trying to... sort it out since I saw you, really, and I've realized-" she takes another drag on the cigarette and looks to him. "You have a say in this, too. Where things stand. What they are. Or, shit, I dunno. You may not feel anything and I'm the one going nuts."
The Capitalist knew that this question would come up at some point and once it's finally brought up and out of the bag, there's at least a thoughtful and concerned look on his face. It's at this point, oddly coincidental, that he removes Conrad's watch from his wrist to do, very much what The Hunter had done the first day when she found the watch in the drawer, he places atop the ANVIL business card which he had yet to move from atop the nightstand.
"I can see that." He says in response of her knowing Maata's feelings towards him, and then Thorne's. Right now, he's already heading to the bathroom. The watch was removed because he's about to hit the shower apparently. Even as he keeps up with the conversation as best he can, it doesn't hinder him in anyway, nor does The Hunter's presence here, but she would be used to him being so bold to undress before her in either of his inarnations.
The sweat soaked towel drops haphazzardly to the floor, followed by his pants and underwear. "I know these feelings, these thoughts. I /feel/ them too." So far, he's primarily been guided by Driscoll... unless The Capitalist's true personality matched his to a T. The hot water then turns out, beginning to slowly fill the bathroom up with steam, which he disappears into as he begins to rinse all of the sweat from his form. It's only then that he falls silent, perhaps contemplating even more.
The woman is silent for a moment. Perhaps she's waiting for more to follow. Maybe she's consoled by the fact that she's not the only one warring with the duality. Relieved to know that he has dealt with the same feelings. Rather than stay put, however, she snuffs out the cigarette and washes the lingering taste of smoke from her mouth with a good swig of scotch as she rolls to her feet. The bottle is left behind as she follows him to the bathroom, removing shoes and socks as she goes. At the least, steam-dampened socks would be miserable.
"And?" The single word is meant as a gentle sort of prompting as she steps into the bathroom. "We go to sleep Maata and Conrad, in love, promising to find a way out so we can see Akala to justice and go live somewhere far away from that island. Then we wake up also Thorne and Driscoll. It's... not a complication any psychology text could ever prepare you for. There's no roadmap."
The shower was always the Capitalist's place to think, so this is the best place for him to be as he tries to collect his thoughts. Though usually, he's not pressured by the person asking these hard questions being in the same room as he contemplated. Once she's inside though, it makes more sense for him to respond in a timely fashion -- something that his being in another room gave him some reprieve from doing so. However, Conrad or Driscoll... once Akala's name is mentioned, he can feel the tension in his right arm contract, his hand forming a fist. Perhaps that very image isn't clear through the steamed glass, but he's quiet for the moment, before he finally asks, "Who do you think you are? Or maybe the better question is, where do you want to come from here?"
Normally, he could spend an eternity beneath the heat and pressure of the team of showerheads that line the shower, but as he's having a conversation, he rushes through on this task. The frosted glass door slides open when he emerges, his eyes noting where the woman is positioned before he crosses the room to take up yet another of those expensive bath towels to dry his hair off.
The woman is standing just inside the entrance to the bathroom. She hasn't invaded terribly far and doesn't seem like she was intent on trying to join him, at least. "I don't know who I am," the Hunter answers after a long time of quiet. She watches him as he exits the shower, moving out of the way if she's in the way or near-so.
"But I know when we're together, I still feel..." She hesitates briefly, considering her answer. Her eyes lower briefly. "You may be Rhys as well as Conrad, but you look the same. Smell the same. Feel the same. I want you as much now as I did before."
"Do you know whether this desire, this fire burns just because of Conrad?" The Capitalist asks, still drying off his hair, before he starts on the rest of his body, pausing only briefly to look The Hunter in the eyes when he asks this question, following up with: "Or because of me in general." This 'Me' that he is referring to, could be Driscoll. He then pads off, leaving behind a trail of wet footprints and drops of water as he wanders to the wardrobe where he's still working that towel.
"I know that I've been distant lately as I try to find myself." He starts, soon enough dropping that towel to the floor now too, "But, I do..." It's almost hard for him to say now, "I do have feelings for you. Strong feelings. They are definitely not Driscoll's... sure, he liked you, but not in that way. It's sort of how I feel towards Madison," He never calls her Shorley or Kylie. "But stronger. It gives me a lot to think about, because it comes and goes." Finding a pair of slacks and some boxers, he leans forward to slip these on.
"Like I said," the Hunter says, following him back out to the main room. She slides behind him through that walk-through closer, barely resisting the desire to stop and initiate contact. Instead, she focuses on the bottle and pads over to it, picking it up. "I don't know." She takes a drink before turning to look at him. "Who am I? Am I just them, the... combined whole?" She tilts her head slightly, watching him. "I... wasn't just Maata. You know that, I know that. But I still had those feelings for you. Yet here I'm also Thorne and..." Her arm drops to her side, bottle held in hand.
"It's hard to make sense of. I wasn't Maata, not exactly but I still loved Conrad- you. But now I'm also Thorne and... those feelings persist in their own way, but not... always, not the same way."
When picking out shirts to wear, The Capitalist lingers near the collection of casual attire: T-shirts, tanktops and those sort of things. But as he's put on the business slacks, he actually does reach for one of the buttoned up office shirts, which were certainly Conrad's thing, but it's not as if Driscoll never dressed up for business, himself. Slipping this on, he skillfully works at each button on his way up, before neatly tucking the ends into his slacks.
"Who do you want to be?" He asks, turning his head in the woman's direction for that brief glance as he waits for her response, but before one is even given, he walks over the dresser of ties and randomly picks one out. "When we only had one memory, there was no choice. One wasn't better than the other because there was no other. Now?" Here, he shrugs, just as he's looking at his image in the closet mirror whle working at his tie. This was very much what Conrad tended to do more often than not. "Choose the parts of each that you like best, I suppose." As he continues to face the mirror, his eyes flicker in The Hunter's direction again, "Wellson had it all. The money, the fame... and the girl. But if he operated the way Driscoll did, how Driscoll lived his life, who knows just how far he could've gotten."
"But Conrad wasn't Driscoll. And Driscoll wasn't Conrad. What if Rhys had been born into the same situation as Conrad? He wouldn't have had reason to drive himself that way. Just as Maata never went into the military. She never lost a limb, never became so desperate as to sell herself to a corporation to have the same mobility again. Our... environment makes us as much as anything else. But you think we are the same people? That Conrad is Driscoll, perhaps? Wolfram- Anton, he thinks it's all random. That we've just been these... wholly different people." She goes to sit on the bed, letting out a sigh as she leans to place the bottle on the table by his watch and business card.
"So what are you choosing? And in that choosing, can you choose which feelings you do and don't want? Because that's the part I'm having trouble with."
Once he's finished with the tie, The Capitalist proceeds forward, even if he stops by the mirror just outside of the closet to take a look at his still damp hair, which he now runs a hand over to slick it back sans gel. "When I first woke up and started to be plagued with Conrad Wellson's memories, there was a part of me... a part of Driscoll that resented it all." He turns to face The Hunter now, walking to where she is seated at the edge of his bed, as he reaches for Conrad's watch again, to strap onto his wrist.
"That's when I really started to try and shut those memories out. That was the life, you know? And I remembered the life it was. The good and bad, I spent time... looking through all of his memories, including the ones that are barely memories at all." A pause, "As for me? I like having the best of both worlds, but... sometimes the memories and everything associated with them makes it difficult."
Once that watch is attached to him, he reaches for abandoned bottle on the nightstand and uncaps it for a drink. He then states, "I was thinking that these could be memories from past lives and if that's the case, then we were those people... what we are now? And where? That's something we'll still need to find out."
"Resented it? Why?" The Hunter watches him, tilting her head a bit as she watches him finish his routine. "Because of what Conrad had or because he is another person?" She doesn't reach for the bottle again, not yet. Instead she just drops her hands to either side of her waist, waiting. "It's hard to pick and choose. Thorne and Maata are so very different. They are similar in some ways, yes, but in means of personality, emotion, they are very different people. It makes... being both hard for me. How can I pick and choose? That seems unfair to people who... still feel very real, very important. People who I felt die because I was them. You only died once, so maybe that's why it's a little easier." She stops suddenly and winces a little, looking down. "Sorry, that's probably not fair."
"Past lives," the Hunter echoes. "Huh. Here I was thinking, when I talked to Anton... maybe we're being reincarnated when it happens, given a chance to be a better person, but you're thinking it's... things that already happened, over and done. If it is, then that makes you and me more complicated still, doesn't it?"
Before responding to the new questions, The Capitalist tilts his head back for another deep drink from the bottle, before handing it back to The Hunter, whether she wants a sip of it or not. "Resented him for wasting his life on such trivial bullshit. For not using that money to be better than he was, but that is coming from someone who worked his way up from nothing. So that is what Driscoll was resentful of." He does come out to mention Driscoll by name again, rather than say himself. Me.
Taking a seat beside her now on his own bed, he shakes his head slowly, "I'm not even sure, to be honest." A hand slowly reaches out to stroke lightly against the woman's cheek, if she lets him, his own gaze seeking hers, "Others are talking about the next time this happens to us. If there is a next time, will it make everything all the more difficult here?" He has a feeling that he knows the answer to this. "But... we have to do what keeps us sane, right?"
"His idea of better was... different," the Hunter says quietly. "Once Maata saw past that, she understood. He had the monolith of his father to overcome. That was his demon." She saw Conrad as just a spoiled brat at first, too. She remembers. It's strange seeing that echoed in the man himself. She doesn't fight the touch and even tilts her head into it, eyes closing just slightly. There comes a small sigh. "It might," she answers at long last.
"It probably will." This comes a moment later. "But what I know is... when I woke up, after... after the initial panic subsided, you were the first thing I thought of. Conrad and... then Driscoll as everything began to sink in." The Hunter takes a deep breath, reaching out to him to pull him towards her. "You... ground me. And I can't say that won't change. I have no idea what comes next if we find ourselves new people again. But right now, I could use a grounding force sometimes."
Now that he's allowed this touch, The Capitalist simply strokes a gentle hand against the side of The Hunter's face. There's something in him that actually warms to her words when she speaks in defense of Conrad, perhaps it's the fact that he, himself, was Conrad and he while part of him might not accept or like the wealthy, silver-spooned part of him, the Capitalist knew what it was like to be that man.
Then he's told that the first thing that the woman had thought of on waking was... "I'm ashaked to admit that you weren't the first thing on my mind on waking." Though he's sure that neither he nor The Hunter.... or even The Penitent will ever forget the moment that Driscoll woke from his surviving that odd futuristic scenario. "I had lived my life and was putting my life together, so yes, I guess that would be the difference from dying instantly to... just trying to forget and work things out. The paranoia that Driscoll felt had taken over me and I had thought I was still living that life."
Though when told that she needs this grounding force to keep her sane, the Capitalist has to think on this a moment. Though he now remembers one of the last conversations that they had in this place before... they went to sleep again. "As we've seen, I'm not very good at that, but I can try. For you." Things that The Thrill-Seeker said also comes to mind now, how much of any of it was really true? Slowly, he leans forward to place a light kiss on edge of the Hunter's lips. This is something that he should be used to in either of his incarnations, but for some reason, it doesn't come as easily. It almost felt like it was their first day after waking from the Island and the confusion that came with it.
"You don't need to apologize for not thinking of me first," the Hunter says with a small smile. There's a hint of amusement in her eyes, expression softening there. "Like you say, you thought you said you were still living that life. I died. I imagine going to sleep and waking up in a wholly different place is..." She shakes her head slightly before tilting her cheek back into his hand. "Actually, I can't imagine what it's like. I have no memories of anything like it."
"I can... be myself around you. Whatever approximation of self that is. That is one thing I do know between these two lives. Driscoll understood Thorne in a way no one else on that station did." The Hunter is about to say more, but he's kissing her. And light and hesitant as it is, it's something. She tilts her head slightly into it, a hand rising to his shoulder: willing to feel it out in return.
The Capitalist in his many incarnations tended to be the confident sort when it came to these intimate actions, that doesn't quite end in the Facility. Once he senses some compliance from The Hunter, his own kisses become all the more heated and he holds this moment for as long as he can, breathing in her very essence in this contact. Once there is a break, their lips parting, does he finally say what had been on his mind when she brought Driscoll up and how Thorne felt with him.
"Thorne didn't really know Driscoll. Or maybe she honestly did... it's hard to tell with them." The Capitalist says, having gone through all of Rhys' memories, "I don't know what she would have thought of him if she did, but it doesn't matter anymore." The edges of his lips tug into a slight grin when he says this. If there is one thing she may have caught wind of is that Driscoll was probably not the man he presented himself to be with the expensive clothing and professional attire.
It's an enjoyable moment and nearly a return to form. Thrice over now. Each time they've been someone different in some sense, but this time they're having to reconcile all of it at once. The Hunter leans into him, savoring the kiss as it turns steadily more intimate and closer to those things they've shared in those 'past lives.' She's tucked up against him by the end of it all. There's a soft, slow exhalation of breath as he speaks and a quiet laugh. "Well," she begins.
There's a moment as she collects herself, tucking her frame up against his. "Maybe not specific, intimate details, but they understood each other I think. The kind of people they were. They did what was needed to get the job done. The Marshals worked by the code of the law. The Overseer wanted things above board and just-so for the good of all, even if... you can't always get things done that way because people don't work that way, right?" The Hunter tilts her head, looking up at the Capitalist. "That's why Thorne went to Rhys with information. With things that she knew had to get out, had to get done. Because she knew he would, even if it wasn't always clean. Even if it wouldn't be by the book. Even if it might require lying to someone. To her, the ends justified the means and she knew he understood that even if no one else really did."
"Wellson and Driscoll were similar in that regard," The Capitalist starts, recalling one of his conversations with The Hunter where he... as Conrad went through each of the lies that he told to her. "They were both very good liars." Then again, perhaps the Capitalist, himself, was a great liar as well. With The Hunter now settled in against him, he drapes an arm around her shoulder, keeping her close. "I wasn't sure whether you were disappointed that I wasn't acting like Conrad anymore, that I was distracted by something new and shiny..." With memories far fresher in his mind. "I didn't think it was a good idea to bring it up, but I had expected you to do. I felt wrong for doing so, but the different people who I've been, there is some pull between them all, though... the memories that I wake up with are the ones I focus on most. It might not have been clear after the Island, but it's clear now."
"I felt both of those things, yes," the Hunter admits quietly. "But would it be fair to be disappointed in you? Everyone here is... managing this in their own way. Some are choosing who they are. Some are rejecting it outright. Some are, like me, trying to find a balance." She gives a small shrug, tilting her head against his shoulder. "So if I were a little disappointed, it'd just be selfish."
Reaching a hand over, the Hunter smooths his tie through her index and middle finger. "As for something new and shiny-" there's a slight twitch of her lips in a smile. "Maybe. And scared of the answer at the same time." She glances up to him. "Wouldn't you wonder the same with me? There are at least two out there that Thorne slept with and..." her brow furrows, voice lowering a bit. This is something she's given a fair bit of thought to: "I think a third, though I haven't seen them yet. But he was on the Island, so I feel as if he should be."
"Conrad slept with two women on the Island." The Capitalist decides to remind, "One of them isn't here. Not that she mattered." He says this despite the fact that Vanessa's death did leave Conrad feeling cold for a time before he could finally let go. "The other relationship was the most important for him." However, that being said, Driscoll knew of Shorley, which was odd now that he thinks about it, but he was never told of any of the others. Not that he asked or was curious really.
"At /least/ two?" He asks, a brow arched but there's an amused look on his face, though his gaze diverts when he says, "I remember Shorley." He won't say Madison here, that would be awkward. "The others probably didn't really matter much, like Vanessa... or did they?" He can't help but be a little curious, especially when she talks about someone from the Island.
"You met someone from the Island but one that we've never seen here?" His attention returns to her now. "There are only so many doors and several faces who we've not been able to match."
"I would hope the other relationship was important," the Hunter says with a bit of a grin, giving a small, playful tug to that tie. It's not very hard at all. Just a gentle little yank. When he puts that emphasis on least, she laughs. "Okay, so those two and this... third. And no, not... really. Thorne didn't do attachments. Not at all. It was a holdover from her marine life. Even though most of her assignments for the Company were simple bodywork, she kept the mentality that any job could be final, so..." the woman shrugs. "She- I enjoyed Kylie's company, a lot. But... she saw it as more than Thorne did. I think Thorne saw it as a close friendship that included fucking. There was this guy on the station, one of the techs who she got drunk and slept with a couple of times. And then..."
Her brow furrows. "Yeah, this... He worked for the casino. I think when she was with the marines, there was... something. She was part of an operation to stop a smuggling operation of his, I think? That memory is more fuzzy, unclear. Cole Munroe. We didn't spend much time together, but... I swear, Conrad-" using his name from the Island now, as she looks up at him. "It was Victor. I know that now. Having both sets of memories. I know it was. But I didn't see him here last time. Did you?"
The Capitalist's gaze flickers down to view the tugging of his tie, though doesn't lift a hand to stop her even if she decided to mess it up. He does listen with some curiosity to this list that she gives out. It's not a long list, but an interesting one. Then he remembers the message he received from Thorne regarding Kylie. That was still when Driscoll wasn't sure if he would make it off of the Hephaestus alive and for a few seconds that sense of panic, dread an urgency rushes through him. Any amusement on his features fade as he relives that moment.
While his words may betray him, the tone that he uses isn't as light or mirthful as it should be, "I remember messaging you that I told you so." However, while he didn't, personally, know any Penumbra techs on station, he did know of Cole Munroe, though when he is brought up, images of Saffira now flash in his mind and that heavy guilt that came with her death. Then there is the kicker...
"Victor?" All of those memories of the space station vanish, now to be replaced by the Island once more. "You... you slept with him once before too." There is this slow shake of his head now, "I don't believe I've seen him here. I mean, there were several people who I hadn't noticed, one of them was a priest, who I didn't recall as being on the Island either."
"You did tell me so," the Hunter says with a small smile. "Apparently Thorne's casual and hers have... different meanings. For her it meant... being a couple until one of us left the station. For Thorne, well-" She shrugs. Amber eyes study him at that change in tone. She doesn't press; they both have a lot of difficult memories attached to both places. And it takes her a moment to remember- "So I did." Sleep with Victor. "Before... the Island. Before I fully understood what he was doing there." She lets out a rush of breath.
"One of the people here, he... apparently showed up briefly -- here, in this place -- before we all ended up on the Noc. He was never on the Island, but he woke up here with no memories." The Hunter chews at her lower lip a bit. "What if some of these strange faces are like that? People that... have existed in neither? But that still doesn't answer the question of those we have seen before, but aren't here. Wynne and Thorson -- Karl -- haven't returned. And Wynne was here last time."
Why did the Capitalist remember that Maata has slept with Victor before The Hunter even recalled that it happened? Perhaps it was something that stuck out in his mind the first time it was brought up. Was Conrad jealous of that fact? "How do you know that he showed up briefly here? I mean, aside from it making sense since you saw Victor both on the island and on the space station, but... really? Victor?" Oh, he remembers what Victor looks like with his 70's sleaze fashion sense.
"There was the priest and that one guy who we've never seen since he first stepped out of his room. Both LIED about not having memories of the island." He makes sure to emphasize that fact, "As we all know, we remember everything. It takes a while for it to come. When I woke as Driscoll, I still believed I was living that life. With Conrad..." His brow furrows, "I remembered everything that happened before the Akala told us of our fate."
"Not Victor," the Hunter explains. "A man from the Noc. I knew him as Graves, there. He's... the one that Thorne got drunk and slept with a couple of times. They didn't know each other well, that was.. uh, the extent of things, I guess. But we ran into each other the other day and he told me that he... was here. But he knows nothing of the island. He just... woke up one day in this place. Just a few days before going to sleep and- suddenly space." She shakes her head. "I'm not sure if that's better or worse."
"But that's the thing, maybe they didn't have memories of the island. Graves seems to genuinely have no memories of the island." The Hunter bites at her lower lip and disengages from him enough to lie back against the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "And it seems people can... leave this place, in some way. Wynne and Karl are gone, from the looks of it. No one's seen them. Lucky for them."
Driscoll had never met Graves or if he did, he never got the man's name, but knowing that this Graves is here and has no memory of the island is a curious thing. Something which the Capitalist doesn't quite trust. "Did you see that priest on the space station? Or that other guy that one night who no one could recall? Were they there?" These questions all come out so quickly, the skepticism is evident in his tone. "I don't trust any of that. In truth, I can understand possibly not having met everyone on the island and also on the space station, but if they don't remember the island at all?"
When the Hunter shift positions to lay back against his bed, he slowly rises to stand, but more to pace in this small space near his bed as he considers everything. "I think we should be calling some sort of meeting. Get to know who the hell actually is here and whether we know them or not." He looks to the Hunter, "I met two scientists from Weyland-Yutani, they made it here. Why? One still believes that she is who she was on the station," That's not unfamiliar to him at all, "The other... Let's just say that Dr. January seems to have discarded all of that, but then again, it sounds like Madison got to her first."
"I didn't see either of them," the Hunter says, lifting her arms to prop under her head as she watches the Capitalist get to his feet so as to pace. "Nor have I seen either of them here. So far, everyone I've encountered here this time has been people I knew in one place or the other." When he says he's seen Dr. January, her features harden a bit. There's anger, obviously. That's all from Thorne. The expression is all Thorne. The way various muscle groups in her frame activate is as well. It's not too different from how Akala's name triggers physical responses in him. "Kylie had a soft spot for her," she says in a quiet, flat voice.
"But Kylie wasn't there at the end. She didn't see Dr. January standing alongside the Queen like some... advisor. Looking down at all of us. Seeming ready at any moment to espouse some new world order. She's probably the reason the shuttle was attacked in the first place." The Hunter swallows, lifting her hands to press the heels of palms against her eyes. "She probably discarded it all out of fear of what people would do to her. I know a few want to have a turn with Wynne if she ever shows her face."
After a moment, she drops her hands, letting them fall limply to her sides. She's quiet for a time. "Does it bother you? How many people Thorne slept with?" She looks to him, tracking him. "Honestly?"
The Capitalist knows well enough how The Hunter, or Thorne, feels about January. She had warned him against her here in the Facility as well, not just the Noc. From where he stands, he immediately senses the tension in her body language, but he knows that this was exactly how he felt for Akala, indeed. Even though Driscoll was his most recent memory, something about Akala still stirred him and if he were anything like Driscoll... that island official would have been dealt with already. Or that's how he sees it in his mind.
He didn't know that Shorley and January knew each other or how well they knew each other. So hearing that the cargo chick and the crazed scientist were friendly with one another comes as a surprise. "Well, she isn't playing dumb, for one. She's not lying about not knowing anything, but just like Madison, she knows that she's not really January. I tried to tell her otherwise, but we've seen how Madison reacted to that. January, however, doesn't seem to overly care as much. She... wears rollerskates. So if you ever hear someone skating around, yeah, that's probably her."
Then /the/ question is asked and here The Capitalist blinks, giving out a quick response, "No. Of course not. She and Driscoll weren't really a thing. It's interesting to hear, sure, but I don't think I can place any blame on you." Yet, there's still a furrow to his brow and though he says this, just maybe, this idea that she may have been with Victor twice didn't sit well with him.
"She may still have a few people who aren't happy with her. January was..." The Hunter lets out a sigh. "She betrayed all of us. She treated some of us terribly. Whether she's 'letting go' of it or not, people will be upset. I know some want to just let shit go in here, but it's not always as easy as that." She pushes herself up onto her elbows, watching him. She catches that furrow in his brow, considering for a time. She may not realize it's about Victor. Not her best moment, either. Cole was a different story, but Victor...
"It's okay if you are jealous," she says in a softer voice. "Whether you blame me or not, you can be jealous. Bothered by it. Emotions aren't... logical. They just are. Just like that half of me is still in love with you, even if I've now lived a life where I wasn't. I look at you and I see both men at once. The one I love and the one I don't. It doesn't make sense, it just is."
Leaning a bit to one arm, she reaches out the other towards him, fingers curling in a 'c'mere' gesture. "It's only you since waking up. Or, well, obviously I haven't slept with you, but. In regards to anything else. Just you. Primarily because I wanted to talk to you and figure out what's what, but also because I still have strong feelings for you."
"They can be upset at her and even may try to do something against her, but I think we all know that nothing that happens here really matters." The Capitalist says regarding January, "I am willing to see how things play out though and hopefully we can finally get out of this place rather than have whatever happens to use, with our memories, that happening again."
He's then told that it's okay to be jealous and in perfect defensive fashion, he quickly says, "I'm not jealous. It's strange to hear sometimes, but... I have Driscoll's memories as well and while he hadn't... not on the station anyway," He makes sure to emphasize, "It's not as if he didn't think about it." Yes, he remembers the suggestion of a three-some with Kylie, but he won't bring that up right now... if ever.
When he's coaxed back to the bed, The Capitalist moves to settle down beside her, turning in her direction, "I wouldn't blame you if you did, but everything about this place and the people we've come across here, from our other memories, it's strange. Disturbing. But I think that we really need to know who is here. How we know them, etc."
"So what you're telling me," the Hunter says, unable to help herself but grin, "is that I was your one and only on the station?" She's teasing him, that much is obvious. There's a laugh as she turns towards him in return. "And here Thorne always figured there must have been others, or why else try to get Kylie involved? Not that she had any interest. She was as lesbian as they come, I'm sorry to say." She rides the high of the lighter mood by leaning in to kiss him; this one coming more naturally now. It's a brush and then something deeper, if brief.
"Maybe you're right. A meeting might not be a terrible idea, even if getting everyone in one place at the same time might prove to be difficult. Not everyone likes leaving their rooms. Anton didn't at all last time." She settles back, resting beside him to watch him. "Your notes didn't go away. Maybe you could just meet with small groups at a time, take notes, go from there?"
The Capitalist can't help but laugh too, taking this ribbing in stride. "Driscoll was a man who had work ethics and for the most part, his presence on the Noc was all work. Not that he never takes time off for himself during long engagements such as this but, Thorne was the only person that interested him enough to do so and, more than likely, caught him at the right time. There was a time for everything. Then all that shit started with the specimen and I don't know what to say, alien infections, things trying to kill you? That can be really hard turn-offs in anyone's book."
His words are interrupted by the incoming kiss, something which he seems appreciative of, even when he decides to tack on, as a joke, "Conrad, on the other hand, had no work ethic. But he knew how to play the corporate game."
The rest of the discussion, about the meeting, gets a slow nod. "You may be right. We'll see who we can get to talk. Ask if they were on the Island, all of that." He then lays back against the bed, parallel to The Hunter, "Right now though, I think I'm through with talking." He's obviously hinting at something, the way that he turns his head, his eyes seeking out hers.
"I told you Thorne understood him. I think it's because he could have told her, at any time, that he had a job to do and she'd have understood. Either one of them could have walked out mid-coitus for work and the other would've just called in an IOU." Rather than risk having a fit thrown. Such things are important 'in the field.' The Hunter settles in with him, but meets his gaze as he makes his intentions known easily enough. Things haven't changed so much that she can't pick up on those changes in mood.
There's a slight smile as she leans towards him, a hand going towards his tie. This time, the tug is just to loosen it. "Here I was thinking you might theorycraft all day," she murmurs, leaning in to kiss him again. This one doesn't break so quickly and if anything, deepens towards something more rich with desire.