Since waking that first time, The Beast has only seen The Loner the once. He's been out to the dining hall a couple of times, and has come out to take some books back to his room, but he doesn't spend a lot of time out in the parlor or other areas. He comes out of his room and down the long hall, making his way toward the Parlor with a small pile of books to be returned to the shelves. He's got on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt but hasn't bothered to put on shoes. It's not like anyone is tracking any mud around in here.
It's not surprising that the Loner is hard to catch outside of his room. He only leaves it occasionally, usually to grab food which he brings back with him to his chamber of solitude. It's not that he's avoiding those he knew on the island specifically, no, he just seems to be avoiding everyone. So as the Beast is making his way to the parlor from the hallway, the Loner is coming from the dining room, a cup of still steaming coffee held in his hands. He's wearing a slightly too big black sweater, pajama pants and is walking around bare foot. At least he looks comfortable.
The Beast makes his way back toward the shelves and begins to set one of the books back where he found it when he notices The Loner heading back from the dispensary with coffee. He waits a moment, or two, and then says, "Hello," in greeting, before setting the other two books back where he'd found them. With nothing left in his hands, he slides them into his pockets.
The Loner stops short as he finally notices that someone else is in the parlor, probably something he had been hoping to avoid, but there's a visible relaxing once he sees who it is. There's still some trust on his expression as he regards the other man. The too-young Andrew look-a-like watches in awkward silence for a moment. How could it not be awkward, at least with him. "Hey." The greeting returned before he takes a sip of his coffee, eyeing the bookshelf. He lets the moment drag out right into awkward territory, just standing there in silence for a tad too long before he speaks again. "Sorry, I should have come talk to you, I've been.. thinking."
The Beast leans back against the bookshelves, watching the younger looking Andrew as he stands there drinking his coffee. He doesn't seem to mind when the silence drags on, even into awkward territory. He shakes his head and says, "It's okay. I've been spending a lot of time to myself just thinking, too. I thought about stopping by but.. I wasn't really even sure which one was yours."
"I guess that is a problem." The calmness displayed by the Loner might be odd compared to the normal bluster from Andrew. There's a quiet reservedness which just wasn't there before, and there's no faint sent of whiskey rising from that coffee in his hands. "It's that one." He motions down the hallway, gesturing towards one of the many doors. He regards the door to his room for a moment. "Do you think it was real? The island.. I can remember it so well. Before though.." He shakes his head.
"It felt real. It was real to me. Even if.. the rest of it is hazy, before. Everything there, though?" There's the same sort of quiet steadiness that was the same as Connor's. There's the same British accent. His clothes actually have color though, here, instead of all the varying shades of drab from the island. He seems a little less sure of himself, though, more like an animal finding itself in an unfamiliar cage than a man who knows very much with certainty what his purpose is. He looks over toward the door and then points a little further down the hall. "Mine's that one."
The Loner looks towards the indicated door an nods. This Loner whoever seems to have picked up Connor's dislike of colors, having mostly shown up in shades of gray, white, and black. Then again, he really didn't pick out his clothing, it's just what's in the closet for him to pick from. "But.." He raises one hand, pressing his fingers against the side of his face, then shakes his head. "Looking in the mirror after I woke up." He sighs and takes another sip of coffee. "I don't know what to think anymore."
"You're younger, than y.. than Andrew was, on the island," Connor agrees as he studies The Loner. "I'm.. not. I'm the same. I look the same. I feel the same." He shakes his head and wanders over to one of the chairs and sinks down into it, slumping a bit. "But we're not the same, not .. exactly. I was talking to Cameron the other.. whatever passes for a day here. I think.. I'm just going to go with Connor. I am Connor, until I'm not."
"I don't feel like Andrew, not completely." The Loner wiggles his fingers by his head. "I can... It feels like he's up there, and I know what he'd do and how and why and.. but, damn.." And there's at least some slipping through, the frustrated look he gives when the words aren't coming is right on. "I mean, Andrew works for now, don't have anything else to go by." He walks over to one of the chairs and sits down, pulling his legs up under him. And sure, this face should be somehwere in those Connor memories, probably from right around the time he and Andrew met. "I mean, I'd still like to be friends, even if I lost my bodyguard." There's a faint hint of a smile from him. "I have a feeling I'm not going to get along with many around here anyway."
"I don't think that we are .. who we were, not completely. But I don't have any other name, and I don't have any other memories to go with. So I'm.. trying to hold onto the good ones that I can, at least for now," Connor admits. He lets his head fall back against the back of the chair and stares up at the ceiling for a bit. Oh, he recognizes the face, but he knows, and seems to be making a conscious effort to remember that the person in front of him, isn't, anymore than he is, the person that he remembers, at least not entirely. He nods after a few moments and says, "I'd like that.. if you would." Then he rolls his head and looks over toward the Loner, chuckling a little bit. "Who says I can't still be your bodyguard? Not much to protect you from around here, but if anyone's bugging you, I'll still get them to shove off." He smiles a little wryly.
The Loner chuckles slightly at that. "Don't have anyway to pay you." Though honestly it's said in a way that's meant to be a bit of a joke. "Well, other than a guitar and even when I take that down it ends up back where it was. I.. can't play it as well as I could though." He frowns. "It's like the lessons and practice that I.. Andrew did is all gone. I feel like I should be able to, but I can't. Maybe I'll have time to practice. Seems like we're stuck here." He presses his lips together in a thin line, peering off in the direction of the hallway. Finally he looks back to the Beast. "Yeah, I'd like that."
The Beast chuckles and says, "That's alright. I don't have rent or anything to buy," following along with the joke. Then he looks thoughtful when Andrew mentions that he has the guitar but can't play it as well. "Was that the thing that came from the island? It seems like we all have something, one thing that came from the island with us." But then he grins and says "You should." He then nods toward the piano. "I was thinking of learning to play."
"Yeah, I remember I.. Andrew.. whoever was pissed about having to leave it behind. But I woke up and there it was. But yeah, I heard some of the others talking about things they still had from the island. Like that Cameron guy and his cellphone." He wrinkles his nose slightly. Andrew wasn't fond of the social media stars and it's hard to completely shake attitudes when those thoughts are part of your only memories. HE looks over to the piano and nods. "We have the time. It's been relaxing having something to keep my mind occupied, it might help you if you need a distraction."
"His cellphone only shows him pictures of Chase, and stuff he recorded about Chase," Connor says as he straightens up a bit from where his head had flopped back onto the back of the chair. "He's pretty sure it's deliberate, that someone had to have done it on purpose, which.. I guess, it sounds that way. Not sure how everything would be deleted but that, specifically." He looks over toward the piano again and then considers it for a few moments longer before saying. "It would be something to do, something to learn that was.. mine, I guess. I have no memory of whether I could play before or not. But if I learn now, well.. that's something that belongs to me, right?"
Down the hall comes barely five feet of weirdness - dressed in a red track suit with a hood (currently up), white latex gloves and a creepy Salvador Dali mask. They wave casually to the two men as they enter the parlor, headed towards the dining room and likely the dispensary.
"Right." The Loner agrees. "But we have to have been.. someone before we were here. There's a typewriter in my room. I.. don't know where that came from but it feels right to have it there." He scrunches up his brows, the expression only growing slightly more exagerated as someone, well, weird comes walking through the room. His eyes follow her for a moment before he looks over at the Beast with an eyebrow raised questioningly.
"Probably, but I have no memory of who that was. I know what I feel about things, and what I feel and think when I look at the things that are in my room, but I don't know whether those are my feelings or..." the Beast trails off as the red track-suited figure comes walking down the hall and waves to them and continues on toward the dispensary. "Hello," he says, and lifts a hand in a wave to the passing masked figure, then catches the Loner's glance and shrugs his shoulders. He doesn't seem to have any more of a clue than he does.
The Loner finally shrugs himself. Who is he to judge? He's still wearing pajama pants. He sighs and leans back in his chair, losing himself in his coffee for a few more silent moments. "Connor's?" He asks with a curious tilt of his head. "Or someone else's?" Even though he poses those words as questions, he nods in slow understanding. "It feels like I'm not alone in my own head and it bothers me. I mean, there's nothing else there but what I remember from the island, but it still feels.. seperate." Shadows gather, returning old paths to darkness.
"For lack of a better way to describe it, I suppose -- Connor's," the Beast agrees. He doesn't find the red tracksuit all that strange, all things considered. There are too many strange things going on. He kind of watches, but he doesn't stare. When the figure keeps right on going, he turns back toward the Loner and says, "I have the necklace. The one that landed in the trees back on the island." The one that Andrew had worn their whole time there."
"Rosa's." The Loner says faintly. He sounds a lot more upset about that death than Andrew did. Andrew was pissed about it, but he must have felt something, he kept that necklace on. The Loner seems more mournful. "I.. Part of me on waking was hoping she was here." He looks over his shoulder towards the hallway. "None of our group other than the two of us it seems. It's a good thing to have." He nods, setting his mug aside on a table.
The Beast nods, and says, "I thought maybe, once I saw the others that had died.. that maybe she'd be here, and Lil," who had also died on the island. "But I haven't seen them, or Dax, or Chase, or even Randell.. not that' I'd want to but.. I don't know. Maybe there's another place like this and they're okay somewhere. Maybe the others got home." He then says, "I'm not sure I can give it to you, but if you wanted it.. I have a feeling it would end up back in my room, though. I think I have it because I didn't have any.. thing.. that meant anything to.. me, to Connor... other than something that meant something to Andrew." He pulls himself up out of his chair then and says, "It is a good thing to have," in agreement. "I think I'm going to go take a shower, shake some of the cobwebs out, maybe find a book on how to play the piano." He gives a bit of a grin then, and turns to head off back down the hall.
"Who knows, maybe Randell wouldn't be an ass here." The Loner grins slightly at the thought and shakes his head. "Probably not." He shakes his head. "No, it's yours. Andrew was holding on to it to give to someone else anyway. I'd feel wrong having it. Guess I was holding onto it for you." He can't seem to decide if he is or isn't Andrew. Shifting between calling the rocker by name and saying I almost at whim. His eyes follow Connor as he gets to his feet and nods. "See you later, then." HE reaches for his coffee mug, looks down into it, and with a sigh heads to the dispensery for a refill.