Log:Theories and Opinions
This was a fiarly new experience for the Loner, usually being back in the facility was like being cramped in a dorm with people everywhere. For now, it was still relatively quiet and empty, which also means he's more likely to peek out of his room and spend time out in the common areas. As he is doing right now. He sitting in the parlor, legs pulled up and crossed on the large chair he's claimed, a cup of coffee is held between his hands though seems to be ignored. His eyes are boring a hole into the wall across from him, his brows pulled down in thought. Angry thought if his expression is anything to go by.
A man emerges from the direction of the dining room: tall, pale and angular, dressed in minimalistic black. He is holding a tall, thin glass of some sort of black liquid. To drink? Yeah, maybe. In the entranceway to the parlor, he pauses to watch the solitary figure of the Loner. Observing him, but not yet introducing himself.
No glaring, no coffee yet, and not any minimalistic black for Bravo. She makes her way out of the hallway full of doors, a book tucked beneath her arm, blonde hair carefully pulled back into a ponytail and her clothes...not colorful, but there is color to them, yellow splashed through dark blue and white. The clothes are nice, but comfortable and she's moving quietly due to the soft slippers on her feet. Bunny slippers, today. Tonight? Whatever time of the day it happens to be.
The one in the chair is dressed himself in only a simple grey sweater and black pajama pants. It seems none of those here seem fond of color. Though as faces begin to appear in the parlor a vexxed sound comes from the short young man. So much for his solitude, though when his eyes divert from their spot on the wall to take in the two faces, his expression turns to an obvious frown. "You've new faces, don't remember seeing you, before." He speaks with a soft but noticable Scottish accent. He snorts and finally picks his mug up to take a sip. "Always have the new ones."
The tall man raises his drink in greeting to the Bravo, and inclines his head to the Loner. "A new face, yes." He has an accent himself, and speaking quietly: his sounds to be northern English. Yorkshire, perhaps. "Her too." He jerks his dark head to the Bravo.
"I've a new face?" Bravo wonders, her empty hand raising up to lightly touch her cheeks, "I'm almost certain I've always had it." She moves towards one of the chairs, invading Loner's private quiet space without regard for the fact he might be wanting to be left alone. "But yes, new." She agrees after a moment, the book settling in her lap, "You seem to have a better grip on this fascinating establishment?" She glances at Deviant, a brow lifting at him before she lifts her shoulders in a shrug.
"No one has a grip on this bloody fucking place." His tone accent becomes a little sharper as he lets his tongue go loose with the language for a moment. Loner adds yet another snort before finally taking that sip of coffee, a small sigh escaping him. "Missed coffee. Didn't know I missed coffee at the time mind you, but getting back I needed it." He shakes his head as his blue eyes dart between the other two, lips pressing into a thin line. His peace obviously broken for now he leans back in his chair and sighs. "At least it will help you next time. Having been here before. Some don't come until after they've been through one.."
"Your face is new to him," Deviant points out to Bravo. He strolls into the room, heels clicking. He is wearing some very pointy-toed boots. "Been through one /what/, pray tell?" This is to Loner, whom he's observing with a sort of sharp-eyed detachment. He doesn't get too close, at least, though he is certainly closer now.
"Well, sure...that makes sense." Bravo agrees, nodding at Deviant before she turns her attention towards Loner as well. Since the obvious question has been asked, she doesn't repeat it. But there is a very obvious interest in what the answer to it might be. But then she frowns, "Get back from where?"
If either expects a clear answer, they're probably about to be disappointed. "One of the other places." Loner doesn't sound overly sure himself, and after a moment of silence to put his thoughts together into words. "We go from here to a..." That vexxed noise issues from him again. "Some call them lives, stories, scenarios. I haven't made up my mind yet." He waves a hand dismissively. "We stay there until we die or whatever power controls this place pulls us back. I died, so I'm back before most of the others." He frowns. "I have a feeling this place will get crowded soon."
Deviant arches an eyebrow, but...it's a cool reaction, for something so weird. "Did a lot of people die?" He asks with an almost clinical tone, as if he were speaking of the coffee Loner's drinking. But some people just don't have a lot of inflection.
The Bravo laughs at the explanation, very much in the camp of disbelieving any of what Loner just said. She gives him a dubious look, one that is then shot towards Deviant before she gets to her feet, tossing her book behind her into the chair, "That is just crazy sounding." She points out before she vanishing into the dining hall on a mission to get her own cup of coffee.
There's that thinning of his lips again. Seemingly a habit when keeping annoyance in check, or when thinking. Loner shrugs. "Not yet, a few, not many." He squints down at the mug in his lap as some other emotion creeps through on his expression. The disbelief offered him from one of the pair doesn't ruffle him though, he merely shrugs. "It is what it is. This is my third time here." He lifts his mug to his lips once more, peering at Deviant from over the rim.
"Is it?" Deviant says, some amusement when the Loner pronounces this being 'what it is.' He glances over to Bravo, smirking into his cup, but she's already going back to the dining room. "Do you enjoy being here?" One could hazard the answer on this one.
Is it?! Good question. One Bravo might have some quick remark for, but she's taking a moment to have an irrational flail-fest all under the guise of getting herself some coffee.
"What's your name?" Loner looks right at Deviant as he asks the question, ignoring the one posed him almost without thought. Nor does he wait for the answer before rolling on. "Your parents' names? Lovers? Pets? Where were you born?" Loner doesn't sound annoyed as he poses the questions, in fact he sounds more like a teacher grilling a pupil. "We're meat puppets for someone to play with. Sooner you figure that out the better." He shrugs again.
It says something about Deviant, perhaps, that he looks utterly nonplussed by Loner's question. "Are we meat puppets," he asked, "or are we slaves? Slaves whom, armed with the proper motivation, may one day turn against their masters?" Is this all a game to him or something? Maybe, because he seems amused, taking a sip from the glass of black liquid as he continues to smirk.
After a little while, Bravo returns with a cup of coffee, returning to her chair like nothing at all just happened out of the ordinary. The book is moved, and she takes a breath, letting it out slowly, "Now...When you say died..." She tilts her head, indicating Loner's very much living body.
"Twice." Loner holds up two fingers. "I've died twice." He seems rather unruffled by the fact. "Having my soul dragged from my body was a little less disconcerting than getting impaled through the head. That was just unpleasant." Despite the words he manages a small, if somewhat cold smile. "Then you wake up here, whole and healthy with someone else's memories rattling around in you skull."
Deviant narrows his eyes, strolling closer, though he still keeps a bit of a distance. "What did that feel like, apart from unpleasant?" His heels slowly click against the floor as he moves, grey eyes flicking up briefly to Roxie for a moment. Mostly in curiosity.
"That's obviously not what's happening, though." Bravo protests, shaking her head, "You can't die, then not die." She takes a sip from her coffee before setting it down, leaning forward some, blue eyes shifting up towards Deviant like she's fully expecting him to back her up on this. "It's got to be some sort of...mind control. Like hypnosis."
"If you're asking for what the pain felt like," Loner fixes Deviant with a flat look, "I don't know. I was a Synth at the time, an android. I didn't feel pain." And so his story gets even weirder. He glances sideways at Roxie and shrugs. "It's one theory, but group hallucinations? We all go an experience the same.." He squints as he thinks of the word. "The same scenario but different people. It's.. hard to explain until you've experienced it once."
"Not pain, per se." Deviant waves a pale, thin hand. "More the general experience." But Loner isn't quite telling, either. He glances to Bravo, raising an eyebrow again with that same look of detachment amusement. "A collective unconscious," he comments.
"Could be..." Bravo agrees, leaning back as she reaches for her coffee again, "I mean, you can all be hypnotized into like..." She pauses, thinking about it, reaching for the words to describe what she means, "To be someone and experience something, only you're not really. Like those stage magicians, that make you think you're a dog."
"If so, the assholes doing it are.." Loner exhales and shakes his head. "They're doing it with a skill I'm afraid to even think about." He eyes Deviant sideways, as if not sure what to make of the man. Though he's had is share of creepers and just seems to decide to ignore his oddities as he looks back at Bravo. "Like I said, it takes experiencing it once to understand. Even if you still don't know what's going on."
Deviant moves to lean against an overstuffed armchair, fishing a long cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with a match. "I'd venture to say that any experience would be better than sitting around here, idling one's time away."
The Bravo shakes her head at the Longer, frowning still, "I'm not sure that I'll still understand, because it honestly sounds a little too hard to even understand how any of this is really possible." She glances towards Deviant, laughing faintly, "Not sure I really want to experience anything that includes dying. I'm not done living."
The Loner shrugs once more tapping the side of his coffee mug with a finger. His eyes unfocus as he stares at nothing, thoughts idly drifting through his head. "There are others who might explain it better. They're not back, yet." He tilts his head to the side then frowns. "Actually one should be. I think he was still going by Ethan, here. I could be wrong. He was Nolan this last time."
"Back from where, this time?" Deviant asks, since Loner still hasn't really said. He takes a drag, exhaling into the air above. As though that's one way to make his mark on this place where everything is constantly reset.
The Bravo shakes her head, lifting a hand to indicate Deviant, then now Loner, "You two are the only ones that I've run into so far, but..." She thinks about it, "I guess that I don't always come out of my room, and maybe there could potentially be others around here."
"Prosperity, Nevada." Loner says as he looks towards Deviant. "Circa 1902." He snorts. "Time before that we were on a space station. Might be fun if it didn't seem to always involve us dying in horrible ways as we went along." He motions to the hallway with all the doors. "Most of those rooms will be full as people start to finally return. At least we get our own rooms."
"Hmm." Deviant strokes his cheek with the cigarette hand. "No windows. No end. We could be anywhere." He smiles a little. "Or nowhere." After a drag, he muses further. "Prosperity, Nevada. And what were you doing in Prosperity, Nevada? And on the space station?"
"Space station, and some old place in Nevada?" It all sounds too weird to be a thing, but Bravo manages to mostly keep that to herself as she sips her coffee, watching Loner with doubt still lingering in her eyes. "Are all the rooms filled with people?"
"Getting fucked over by demons, and getting fucked over by aliens respectively. Like I said, gruesome gorey deaths all along the way. If that's your thing, you'll love it." He doesn't sound as if he particularly enjoys it, but the Loner just lets out a mild sigh and shrugs. "Most of them will." He sounds almost bland, but he does cast a concerned look down the hallway. "Sometimes the occupant changes."
"Interesting," Deviant murmurs around his cigarette. "I do wonder what the motivation is." He flicks some ash carelessly to the floor.
"So some might be different?" Bravo frowns at that, taking a sip from her coffee once more before she sets it down, hands smoothing over her knees, "Well, that is very interesting. Why would sometimes the occupant change?"
All Loner can do is shrug. "Some were here, showed up in the scenario, but never returned. Others we don't see before they come back. Then there are those like you, waiting here." He sighs." There's all sorts of little oddities I could offer up, we'd be here all night. Why is the no one here from before the island which was before the space station? Why do we all fall asleep at exactly the same time? Who leaves the momentos in our rooms after each trip? It's," He frowns and shakes his head. "Think on it too much and you'll probably just go insane."
"One must work with the situation as best one can," Deviant offers, glancing off to the side as he smokes, occasionally still drinking that black liquid. He turns back to stare at the other two. "Don't you agree?"
"You don't know that no one was here before whatever island thing. You said yourself that sometimes people don't come back...what if an experiment went horribly wrong, and none came back?" Bravo leans forward, a hand flinging towards the hallways, "Maybe no one'll come back from this last one, and we're it...and then we won't come back, and new people turn up again?" She shakes her head, "Who cleans this place at night? Probably the same person doing this, and leaving whatever momentos. And falling asleep...easy. More hypnotism. There's some kind of trigger." She glances at Deviant, "Sure, but...there's more here I think."
"I didn't say there was no one here before that. Just that there's no one here from before that. I've never met anyone from before that." Loner shrugs. "Your guess is as good as any." He snorts and drains the rest of his coffee. "Just try not to light anything on fire. It stinks and is repaired in the morning." He looks sideways at Bravo. "And if you die here you just wake up back in your room. We already experimented on that one."
"Of course," Deviant nods to Bravo. "I never said we should stop asking questions. Simply that we should work with what we have." Then he muses, "Does everyone here speak English as a primary language, as we presumably do?"
"You actually KILLED someone?" Bravo looks mildly alarmed at that, getting up from her chair to actually move further away from where Loner is sitting, watching him with a little more suspicion now.
"So far." Is all Loner has to answer Deviant's question. "Of various accents. Another point in favor of my theory." Though he still doesn't sound pleased about that. Actually, it hard to imagine him sounding pleased about anything. Bravo gets a level look, then a shake of his head. "I didn't. Someone volunteered to die to test it out and someone obliged. Same if you get hurt, it's gone in the morning."
Deviant nods to Bravo, "He did say it didn't work. So it's not really killing, is it?" Then nods to more when Loner says someone volunteered. Perhaps he figured as much. One last drag on the cigarette before he drops it into the glass, from which emits a slow -hissssss-. "And what /is/ your theory, then?"
The Bravo glances at Deviant, "That's not exactly true. You killed them, just because they didn't have the decency to stay dead doesn't mean it wasn't killing." She shakes her head, but then turns back to Loner, "So which one killed someone if it wasn't you?"
"Maata. At least that was her name the first time I met her. I didn't see her in Prosperity though." He frowns as he thinks about that, scratching at his jaw. "Then again, I don't always bump into everyone." He looks over at Bravo. "Just if you see someone coming out of the door with the archer on it, be careful, she's surly at the best of times." He rests his elbow on the armrest and puts his chin in his hand. "Personally, I think this is some form of entertainment. Some fuckers are out there watching us to get their jollies."
Deviant chuckles. "Bit of a pedant, I see," he comments, though to whom it's not apparent. "Well, the scenarios presented do seem awfully...cinematic."
"Right, I shall remember to avoid anyone coming out of the door with the archer on it." Bravo replies, glancing towards the door to the hallway, "In fact, I think I might just go sit in my room and read instead of out here."
Loner nods slowly and grabs his mug as he stands up. "That actually sounds like a good idea to me." He looks down at his mug. "After a refill." He lifts the mug and gives it a little wiggle before taking a few steps towards the dining hall. "If you need me, mine is the one that shows the man huddled in darkness." He frowns at the decription of his own door, then slips off for his refill.