Log:The Bridge Between Two Friends
The Caregiver had given the Capitalist a lot to think about, especially in regards to Penny. He didn't want to be a concern for her or distress her in any way. Perhaps, he didn't realize that his actions were giving her a reason to worry, being too caught up in his own problems. Though one of his issues was his dual relationship to her and in his mind, it was not something that he felt could be resolved.
When he steps out from the Caregiver's door, still dressed in the casual attire he'd worn earlier -- the baggy sweater, the jeans and the combat boots, he's actually prepared to walk to the Penitent's door just across the hall.
When he steps out into the hallway there is loud music coming from the parlor, someone turned the television up fairly loud, and a Bravo sitting on the floor in front of his door. Also dressed as she was earlier in jeans, boots, white t-shirt and leather jacket.
The look on her face is not a normal one, however. While he's witnessed her at potentially her most thoughtful and introverted, there's never been such a frown as she has on her face when she's been around. Confusion, conflict, sadness, irritation, all those negative emotions seem to be bleeding together. Enough so that when she spots him her tone might be a little shorter than intended, "She's hiding."
A dour Bravo was not what the Capitalist was expecting to see seated outside of his door. He had to wonder how long she'd been out there for, though he does turn to stare down the hallway towards the parlor wondering why there's so much raucous coming from that area. "Who--" He starts, only then realizing just who the actress means. "Why is she hiding?" Concern can be heard on his voice when he studies her in thoughtful silence.
"I might have thought it was a good idea to drag her down here to talk to you." Bravo replies, starting to push herself up from the floor, hands smoothing her jeans out before she gives her feet a shake. Possibly long enough that her feet went to sleep. Or her butt. There's a slight tilt of her head towards his door, that she's been guarding, "Can we talk?"
"Talk to me about what?" The Capitalist asks in regards to what the Bravo wanted he and the Penitent to talk about. In his mind, while his exit was a hasty one, he had things to do, so he didn't realize that others may have read the frustration or distress in his eyes, the way his jaw sets when he's tense. This question is then followed by a nod to the follow up one which was asked. "Sure." He moves pass the Bravo to open up his door, though as he steps inside, he looks at the one just across from him, to stare at the symbol of weeping woman there.
Stepping in further, that mess he had made earlier was still there, the contents of his desk found in a messy, somewhat shattered, heap on the ground beside it. The desklamp was spared, however, perhaps being out of reach when he cleared the table in anger of some sort. He makes no excuse for it. I fact, he does't even bring it up and instead settles himself at the edge of his bed, gesturing for her to make herself comfortable wherever she wishes.
"Stuff." Bravo replies, dodging the actual answer for the time being. When she steps into his room she looks around with curiosity, shutting the door behind her before she wanders in, careful to not step on anything that might be on the floor in her path. If there is any judgment about the mess and destruction, it doesn't seem to cross her face.
"About you two." The real answer finally comes out as she takes a brief moment to look upwards at the ceiling before she follows him towards the bed to sit down, her hands tucking between her knees, "I thought that you two might need to work out some stuff. But, it's..." She hesitates a moment, frowning more, "Not my business. Not really."
And although she claims that it isn't any of her business, she glances over at him, "Are you wanting to be with her?"
The Capitalist knew that the Bravo and Penitent were close. He had seen them kissing and being cozy after all, so the question is rather surprising to him. He's not sure how much the Penitent had told her nor the reasons why, but then, he may have gotten certain signals crossed. There's a slouch to his broad shoulders, one hand resting on each thigh as he stares downward towards a space on the floor between his legs. "We tried talking it out and came to an agreement that we would just live our lives. But it's not easy as that," Here, he shakes his head, gaze lifting, but only slightly. Inhaling deeply, he continues, "It's not something you would understand." Being a person without memories and perhaps attachments, in his eyes, "In fact, I was going to talk to her about just now. Eilis, hinted that I might want to."
There is a few moments thinking about his answer, "If you two decided to just live your lives..." She shakes her head, reaching over to where his nearest hand rests against his thigh, her fingers curling around it, "Look. You're right, I don't actually understand, I've never been in your position, I highly doubt that I'll ever be in your position. But...fuck." She pauses, sighing before glancing upwards again, "What do I know, right? But if all you two want to do is just live your lives and move forward, that to me just...I mean, either you're both stupid and denial, or you're not IN love. Love is...you fight for that, right? Always."
Being told that he could possibly not be in love with the woman who he... no Cillian had loved for a decade prior to the last Reaping troubles the Capitalist. He remembers clearly those moments when they were together, whether it be more joyful times like during their last camping date or far more sorrowful moments which followed. And there were many of them. "It's as if I were in love with her for my whole life." He repeats the words Cillian had often said about Anette. "I would do anything for her and I know she would return the same." There's a sudden intensity heard in his voice, his posture straightening in time with it, "Which is why returning back here when we did was the worst thing that could happen. I went to sleep, laying in bed with my wife one night only to be back in this god damn place." He then shoots her a look, anger so clear in his eyes, "Do you know how upset I was when I could't even remember what my daughter looked like? How hard it was for me to wrack my brain to try and remember her name."
"No." Bravo replies, her brows inching upwards before she pulls her hand back, "I don't know how upset, and I don't know how hard it was." She shrugs her shoulders just a fraction, looking honestly apologetic about it. She shakes her head, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees, hands folding together before she tucks them beneath her chin, frowning, "So...at the risk of losing one, maybe two, of my only two friends in the entire world. Do you..." She glances at him, that frown vanishing beneath something harder, more determined, "Not any of these...dreams, or lives, or stories, or..experiences. But YOU, the you sitting right here, do you love her, in that way....because I realize it's a turn of phrase to say it, but the phrasing..As if. As if you were. Like, you're doing it because someone told you it was the thing to do...and again, I don't know anything. I'm probably wrong."
The question posed has the Capitalist shaking his head, that anger is still their in his eyes, but it's starting to fade. "That's what you don't understand. I do love her. In fact I probably loved her more intensely than..." Did he truly love her more than Maata? This was a difficult question to answer. "Until you've lived and loved in one of these memories, you'll never know. They are a part of you. Something difficult to ignore, which is why my relationship to Anette was a hard one. When I look at her, I see the most beautiful woman I know." Cillian's words. "And at the same time, she's my sister." No longer looking directly at her, his eyes absently stare at her torso, moving down to her lap, though it's not really her who he's looking at. "If I could, I'd return back there and live out the rest of my life with her. Is that love?"
Instead of answering the question, she glances at him, then down to where he's looking, her head tilting a bit. Silence seems to linger for her as she tries to get jumbled thoughts in order, sorting through which ones are the right ones for the moment, and the question. Without those memories and experiences to influence her thoughts, they are so much all over the place that when she does speak up it's to ask a question in return, "If I said that I wanted to fuck you right and right now, what would your reaction be?"
Out of everything that the actress could have said in response to his question or any of his statements prior to that, the Capitalist did not expect to hear the words that actually do come out. His own mind worked like a swinging pendulum in a way, though with how the Caregiver reached into his mind to awaken Cillian McTavish again, it's weighted in one direction more heavily, before it starts to swing back again. "I don't know what your angle is. First, you ask whether I truly loved Anette in this place and now you ask /that/? Were you asking the question for yourself, to gauge what my feelings for her were?"
"No angle. Curiosity. Honest curiosity." Bravo replies, leaning back on her hands, her shoulders lifting upwards just a bit, "I think that both questions are important, and are...no. They are just very important to know the answers to, and then I'll go away and leave you in peace." She pauses, watching him for a moment before adding, "Yes, I suppose that you could say I was asking for myself, to gauge your feelings for her. We can go with that." She straightens up, then gets to her feet to take a step away from the bed before turning around to face him, her hands tucking into her pockets, "It might be love, though. I don't know. But it might be love for the idea and the memory, and not the person behind it."
It's not difficult to believe that the Capitalist possesses a great deal of arrogance that he would assume that every woman would want to sleep with him. So with him jumping to this conclusion isn't all surprising, but the accusatory tone in which he uses might be. "I thought that maybe you cared for her rather than asking these questions out of self interest."
The Bravo presses on, though, in a somewhat confusing fashion that he's not completely sure what the woman is up to. More alert now than when his gaze had been absent, when his mind reminded him of all the reasons why he loved Anette Hargreave, his is far more focused and attentive. Watching the move to stand before him, his gaze slowly travels the length of her until his chin lifts lightly so that their eyes may meet. "And what if it is love for the idea of a memory?" He asks now. "I'm not gonna lie, I'm envious of everything Cillian McTavish had."
"I do care about her as much as someone like me can. At least, I think that I do." Bravo replies with a bit of a smile, "I want her happy, and I want her to not have that look on her face I saw before she went into her room. But, I'm also selfish, and curious, and all kinds of other self-interested things."
One pale brow lifts upwards, though, staring right back at him, "If it's just the memory, and what he had, then I'm not sure it is love. Sounds like you're in love with the idea of love..." She lifts a hand out of her pocket to wiggle it in the air, "Not quite the right words, but it's as close as I can get I think." She rocks her weight back onto her heels, "You should talk to her though, but you should also know that she's not sure if she wants to even be with you like that. Or like your sister. She wants...I don't know, she said something in the middle, between those two. But she might be lying to herself, too. She is very concerned about losing your friendship though, I think. Above all."
"I've been in love with two different women in two separate memories." The Capitalist says almost as if he's trying to remind her of that fact. A hand lifts to run fingers through his unstyled hair. "After the Island, I was convinced that I was Conrad Wellson and carried on with his lover here, in this place. After the second time though, I had a different perspective of things. It was hard for me to trust myself and my memories and I wanted nothing to do with anything from the Island. But the love that both Maata and Madison showed me is what pulled me back.
There's this sound of irritation that escapes him, exhaling with a heavy breath. "This last time around, I felt cheated. That my hard fought and hard won happiness had been ripped from me. Only to remember that the woman who I loved more than anything was also someone else in my life. A sister from my past."
Though hearing about this odd blend of the Penitent wanting to, perhaps, be both with him, but also to share space to be his sister is something that he's still needing to deal with. "I don't..." He starts, before closing his eyes while he pinches at the bridge of his nose. "I'm not even sure how that is supposed to feel like. Clicking our relationships off and on..." Though, at times, this is almost what the Capitalist does himself, or some might think that. "She knows that she'll never lose me. We've been here from the very beginning together and if /she/ disappeared," The way Maata had... "I don't know what I would do."
"I don't think she meant turning them off and on." Bravo replies with a quick shake of her head, her hand returning to her pocket before she moves closer, but continues standing, "I think that she meant..." There is a hesitation there, a thought before she shakes her head again, "I mean, I think she meant neither? Not your sister, or your wife, but something else...Something maybe just for here?"
There is a faint laugh at that before she crouches down, looking upwards at him, "Look, I think that..you should really talk to her, because I'm not sure that I'm really explaining it right. Because she...seemed defeated, and just willing to be passive, and then sad about losing something, and I don't know how you can do both things. I really don't, and..." She shakes her head, "I'm just messing it up more, when I really don't mean to."
Ever since his first awakening, the Capitalist has been a man driven by the last memories that he's had. Modeling himself after those individuals. Then came this awakening, one which was immediately plagued by Maata's disappearance. "There was a time where I thought I'd be with Maata," He then quickly explains, though he's sure she knows who this other woman is by now, "Wellson's lover, I thought I would be with her forever. Even after the second time, she convinced me that we would always be there for each other, for it was the other who kept us both stable. That stability has shattered." A bit of a smirk makes its way to his lips, "I don't know what I would've done if Maata were still around. If we would have kept at it or if this new relationship of mine, the McTavish one, would have ruined any chance of that."
"I only say this because that's who we are now. Until we find out our true identities, these are all the memories that we'll have." The smirk fades, a touch of annoyance can be heard in his tone, "Is she reverting back to Madison? Madison was always a defeatist. Maata and I were worried that she was cracking in this place the first time we were here." Returning to her, he agrees, "I don't know what I will say to her, but I'll talk to her. I've been meaning to do so."
"Maybe. You know her a lot better than I do." Which is probably obvious. "But you should totally talk to her..." She gets back to her feet, a hand reaching out to give his shoulder a pat before starting for the door, "Night."