It seemed dramatic to feel so... dramatic after only being in this place for about three minutes, but Wichita was seriously starting to get why everyone hated it. It wasn't just the monsters or just the asshole soldiers, it was the whole mentality of it. It seemed like nobody wanted to be here, and even those she noticed having friendly conversations and trying to make the best of it seemed tired, if not sporting bandages from who knows what sort of injuries. Just being a part of the mass of patients was enough to bring her mood down. Which sucked.
But in all honesty, Wichita still didn't care very much about other people. At least, she was trying to make an effort now to keep what she noticed going on around her out of her head. It wasn't worth it, not when every time she tried talking to someone it ended with her getting frustrated or whatever. She hadn't had a reason to just make conversation with a person for the sake of doing so in a long time. In Zombieland, there was always something to be gained by making conversation - she'd have an angle and work it until she got what she needed, then she'd ditch.
Ditching wasn't possible here, and that threw her off more than she thought it would.
It threw her off almost as much as walking away from brainwashed-Columbus, still very much brainwashed, and not being able to do a damn thing about it. The whole conversation left her feeling completely on edge, unsure of a lot of things she never thought to question before. Like, her entire life.
The guard led her around as she brooded, because no, she couldn't be bothered paying attention to where she was walking when she was in a bad mood. Eventually she ended up in the Sun Room though, and... whatever.
Just a brief scan of the room lead her to finding a shaggy-haired Toronto, and she sighed a little bit, because she almost just called him Scott in her head. Scott Pilgrim. Damnit, Spiderman. She headed his way anyway, sitting down in the seat next to him and giving no sign that she was just about to play 57 Questions with him again.
Cause that was a real game.
"So, if one person from our world shows up and is completely convinced you're a crazy person, does that mean the rest of your world is gone too? Because I gotta say, if I hadn't been warned that the whole visitor thing is just a mind trap, I would be completely fucked up right now." Since she kind of already was, even if she was making a small effort to hide it. If anything Wichita just seemed annoyed, at the moment.
It took Scott a moment to realize that someone was talking to him. His focus was split between the letter and the vague impressions he was getting from the movie in front of him. He blinked, realizing that he had heard talking, but not actually heard what the person was saying.
"Wait, what?" Scott turned to see Wichita sitting next to him, looking irritated enough to warrant a good dousing with calamine lotion. "Did you just get a visitor?" His eyes went back to the letter from "Chris" for a moment, then back to Wichita. "I'm. Not really the person to ask on that? This-" Scott held the letter up "-is literally the only experience I have with the whole fake people from our fake lives thing. And I just got it, like, two minutes ago."
"But-" Toronto was supposed to know everything. She frowned, um, more, and slumped down in her seat, legs stretched out in front of her, not caring if they now served as a tripping hazard for others. Watching a movie would have been a great distraction if she actually knew which movie this was, and wasn't a tiny bit worried that if she looked at the screen for too long she'd start getting implanted with subliminal messages added into the movie to really mess with patients. Instead she just looked down at her feet, contemplated her tacky shoes.
"Yeah, I had a visitor. It's weird being hit with that 'your life is a lie' crud from someone you know from said life. He was Columbus, only not." Wichita actually sounded sad, not even trying to mask it at first. And 'weird' certainly wasn't the right word to describe what it felt like, but she didn't exactly want to go into it. Feelings, ehhh.
"He kept calling me Judith and I wanted to hit him, but like, he really believes in the life this place is trying to convince me is my own. I'm really Judith there, and my sister's name is Ellie, and I think I go to college there, but that's all wrong. I dunno." She shrugged, sighed. But he already said he wasn't the person to ask, so she wasn't going to just keep dumping on him.
"I ate lunch with Peter Parker today too though, so. At least there's that." She'd even pretend it was no-big-deal for now. "Um. How's your day been?" Small talk. Weeeeiiirdd.
Scott had heard smatterings of bits and pieces about visitors and how sucky they were. This was probably the most complete account he had heard so far, actually. He wasn't sure who "Columbus" was, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that he was some kind of friend of hers, and that he came from Columbus... Whatever State Columbus Was In Again. (Hey shut up, American geography was not constantly drilled into students' heads in Canadian Social Studies.) It also didn't take a genius to figure out how utterly bizarre it would be to actually come face-to-face with someone who looked like a friend and sounded like a complete stranger. It was bizarre enough seeing this letter from "Chris" written in Wallace's handwriting.
Thankfully, it seemed Wichita wasn't going to push him for any more info on visitors, though he did flash her the best sympathetic look he could muster, all things considered. "Uhh, well I met Captain Kirk today. Or a version of him, anyway," he explained, shaking his head in a way that suggested he still couldn't shake off his disbelief.
"And hey, cool, Peter's part of our group with Indy. If your friend doesn't see the light outside his own bumhole soon, sounds like you'll probably have a new friend group to hold you up 'til he does." Scott offered a lopsided grin at that, not knowing if what he had said was helpful or totally insensitive.
It seemed dramatic to feel so... dramatic after only being in this place for about three minutes, but Wichita was seriously starting to get why everyone hated it. It wasn't just the monsters or just the asshole soldiers, it was the whole mentality of it. It seemed like nobody wanted to be here, and even those she noticed having friendly conversations and trying to make the best of it seemed tired, if not sporting bandages from who knows what sort of injuries. Just being a part of the mass of patients was enough to bring her mood down. Which sucked.
But in all honesty, Wichita still didn't care very much about other people. At least, she was trying to make an effort now to keep what she noticed going on around her out of her head. It wasn't worth it, not when every time she tried talking to someone it ended with her getting frustrated or whatever. She hadn't had a reason to just make conversation with a person for the sake of doing so in a long time. In Zombieland, there was always something to be gained by making conversation - she'd have an angle and work it until she got what she needed, then she'd ditch.
Ditching wasn't possible here, and that threw her off more than she thought it would.
It threw her off almost as much as walking away from brainwashed-Columbus, still very much brainwashed, and not being able to do a damn thing about it. The whole conversation left her feeling completely on edge, unsure of a lot of things she never thought to question before. Like, her entire life.
The guard led her around as she brooded, because no, she couldn't be bothered paying attention to where she was walking when she was in a bad mood. Eventually she ended up in the Sun Room though, and... whatever.
Just a brief scan of the room lead her to finding a shaggy-haired Toronto, and she sighed a little bit, because she almost just called him Scott in her head. Scott Pilgrim. Damnit, Spiderman. She headed his way anyway, sitting down in the seat next to him and giving no sign that she was just about to play 57 Questions with him again.
Cause that was a real game.
"So, if one person from our world shows up and is completely convinced you're a crazy person, does that mean the rest of your world is gone too? Because I gotta say, if I hadn't been warned that the whole visitor thing is just a mind trap, I would be completely fucked up right now." Since she kind of already was, even if she was making a small effort to hide it. If anything Wichita just seemed annoyed, at the moment.
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"Wait, what?" Scott turned to see Wichita sitting next to him, looking irritated enough to warrant a good dousing with calamine lotion. "Did you just get a visitor?" His eyes went back to the letter from "Chris" for a moment, then back to Wichita. "I'm. Not really the person to ask on that? This-" Scott held the letter up "-is literally the only experience I have with the whole fake people from our fake lives thing. And I just got it, like, two minutes ago."
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"Yeah, I had a visitor. It's weird being hit with that 'your life is a lie' crud from someone you know from said life. He was Columbus, only not." Wichita actually sounded sad, not even trying to mask it at first. And 'weird' certainly wasn't the right word to describe what it felt like, but she didn't exactly want to go into it. Feelings, ehhh.
"He kept calling me Judith and I wanted to hit him, but like, he really believes in the life this place is trying to convince me is my own. I'm really Judith there, and my sister's name is Ellie, and I think I go to college there, but that's all wrong. I dunno." She shrugged, sighed. But he already said he wasn't the person to ask, so she wasn't going to just keep dumping on him.
"I ate lunch with Peter Parker today too though, so. At least there's that." She'd even pretend it was no-big-deal for now. "Um. How's your day been?" Small talk. Weeeeiiirdd.
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Thankfully, it seemed Wichita wasn't going to push him for any more info on visitors, though he did flash her the best sympathetic look he could muster, all things considered. "Uhh, well I met Captain Kirk today. Or a version of him, anyway," he explained, shaking his head in a way that suggested he still couldn't shake off his disbelief.
"And hey, cool, Peter's part of our group with Indy. If your friend doesn't see the light outside his own bumhole soon, sounds like you'll probably have a new friend group to hold you up 'til he does." Scott offered a lopsided grin at that, not knowing if what he had said was helpful or totally insensitive.
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