✰ OF ENIGMAS ✰

"O-oh, do I?" This comes as a genuine shock to Angelie, who worries she doesn't spend enough time thinking about other people. Processing everything has made her a little less social, only seeing all of her friends a few times a week instead of nearly every day. Well, a lot of times her mom and Will might not be found in the hospital break rooms, but she'd still drop off baked goods and socialize with any of the other staff, who were all practically her friends, too! "Umm... Yes. Yes! It's, like, maybe Lenianna goes to the library every Tuesday, and I ... learn I love reading because I went with her! I would have never gone to the library on my own! Not that I'm against books! I just usually am always so on-the-go, and I don't think I'd like toting a book around everywhere just in case. ... What hobbies are you interested in this spring?"

Chloe Bennet as Lucy Chen

There was likely a rational part of Lenianna's brain that knew the comment couldn't be targeted at her. For one, it was entirely unlike her friend — it was far more likely that she was looking for advice than it was that her dear friend was targeting that at her — but still, the not rational, constantly panicked, deer-caught-in-headlights part of Lenianna's brain had her stilling at the counter, breath catching and her eyes widening. Slowly, her gaze turned to her friend and she couldn't even muster a smile. "I don't... I, um..." Her mouth felt dry as she swallowed. "What do you mean?"

Lenianna's confusion only leaves the guilt in Angelie's chest multiplying. "Oh... Umm...." There's a slight trembling to her hands as she slides pieces of cantaloupe into the large salad bowl. "I'm not sure. I think I'm just a little dehydrated, probably. I guess I just meant... Do you always feel like you belong in Virtue? I mean, of course you do, right? We... all probably feel like that."

Kurt Russell as Lee Shaw & Mari Yamamoto as Keiko Miura/Randa MONARCH: LEGACY OF MONSTERS (2023 - ) Ep. 2.06 "Requiem"

Okay, Angelie seemed to be at least willing to hear him out and that was more than Matty had momentarily catastrophized would happen during this interaction, so things were going better! Maybe? Except his cheeks still felt warm and he still felt almost chastised like he was a kid doing something wrong. Except he hadn't! Not this time. Well, besides the cursing thing, which he did momentarily wince and offer a, "Yes, right. Okay. Sorry. Can do." He'd try. It'd be hard, but he could think of other words. Except what did she think a curse was? Could he even say like, damn? Was that a curse?

It's baffling how quickly Matty agrees to stop swearing. Did he just like to be ordered around? Angelie stares at him for a moment, like she's actively trying to and will never manage to understand this strange boy from Vice. "You want me to pinch you?" ... It's not... completely terrible of an idea. "Um..." Glancing around, like pinching a boy is the most scandalous thing they could be caught doing in the daylight, Angelie steps closer and gingerly pinches him on the cheek, like she's his grandmother. "Can you... feel me?" she asks, her hand lingering in case she has to try to slap him or something next. "I'm a pacifist," she warns him.

Did people in Vice... even know what that was? Did they just start fights for the fun of it? ... What if she was wrong? What if the dream was for her? Maybe she'd be less bitter about why her alleged birth parents had given her away if she learned about the bullet she dodged? Maybe she would have been unloved and selfish and some evil princess of Vice like Laurie Sinclair? Maybe she's supposed to know that it's better how life happened, to know to avoid Christian Reeves entirely. And either way... people in Virtue are starting to give them very strange looks. "Dream-Matty, will you..." She pauses, scrunching her eyes closed as she forces herself to continue. "Will you take me home with you and show me what a day in Vice is like?"

It's such a strange and bewildering feeling that you could want to despise someone, and still go running to them before anyone else. Didn't it say something, who you chose to run to when it felt like the end of the world? Danny might not be "the one" that she'd imagined when they'd first met, but they're still... Connected in their souls somehow, she thinks, because they'd been so easy, so seamless, and she'd never have told Jonah or her ex before half the things she and Danny trusted each other with so easily. Maybe that's why the hurt made her lash out so badly. Would she ever manage to find that in someone else in a way that ended romantically? Noah's so, so honest, but he's also horrifically out of her league, and they both knew it. Especially now! Lenianna and Jordan are the kindest, purest people she knows, and that leaves her afraid to tell them anything that isn't perfect or wholesome. Why couldn't she be like all three of them? She tried so hard to be good like them, kind like them, someone for her brothers and Kiran and her parent to be proud of. Did she not belong there in the first place?

Angelie lets herself be tugged closer, leaning against Danny's chest as she attempts to breathe between her tears. "A high-ranking Vice, he told me I'm his daughter, Danny. I asked my friend to help me get a DNA test to prove him wrong, but he said... Danny, he seemed so sure. Like he would have put a lot of money on a bet." She holds up the locket still secured around her neck. "Please tell me I look like them. Please, Danny."

While Lana argued with her coworker, Don bent down slightly and looked at the kid. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, voice soft. "You wanna get on my back for a piggyback ride?" Her face lit up immediately at the possibility. She climbed onto his back with all the grace of a tiny person, and Don adjusted his hold carefully beneath her legs. Against all reason, his heart swelled. She was cute. But of course she was. She was mini Lana.

He laughed when the little girl called out her name, but the sound died almost immediately when he saw Lana’s face go blank. "Lana?" The smile slipped from his face. "You okay?" But then she was moving again, talking to her coworker like nothing had happened. Don didn’t push. Not there, not with all those eyes around them. He opened the door for Lana and followed her out of the bar, keeping one hand steady on Luca as she bounced lightly against his back.

Only once they were outside did he try again, his voice lower this time. "Hey," he said, watching Lana carefully. "What was that?" Luca giggled as they walked. "You went somewhere else in there. Talk to me."

Marlana has never been around kids. She's the baby of her family, the youngest even of her cousins, and she's never even babysat anyone. All she'd ever really focused on was her career aspirations, and she'd never stuck around in a relationship long enough to even discuss shit like that. Watching Don carry her kid -- their kid? Fuck -- out of the bar is such a mindfuck of an experience that she can only stare at them in bewilderment as they approach. How does he make it look easy?

She's confused enough that when Donovan asks for an explanation, tells her to talk to him, Marlana doesn't even realize she's answering. "I wouldn't have a kid, because I'd do something idiotic like name them -- after my --" Marlana blinks, shaking her head. "No. No, you know I don't do lore drops, Redfield." Even Sara doesn't know about Luca. She runs a hand over her face. "Look, I just -- No one here knows that name, so I... have a really bad feeling this isn't a prank, okay?" Wincing, Marlana holds out her arms, like they're going to pass a frisbee. "Just give her to me, and you can stay here, and -- fu -- ... dge." She glances down the street towards the housing complexes, even as Luca starts throwing a small tantrum at the idea of leaving 'Daddy'. "What am I supposed to tell my roommates?" It's more a question to the universe than to Donovan.

She can't help the soft chuckle at Star's musings, but it's easy to be -- well, not herself because she's not soft, but -- nice? Nice-ish? around Star. She'd never known how to even throw a punch well before Hiraeth, but with the little training she's had since? Well, she'd throw one if someone looked at her roommate wrong, and that's a reassuring un-soft thought to have in the moment. Marlana raises both brows, not having ever heard that name before. Judging by Star's expression, they won't be using it. "When everyone was asleep? He slept over here?" Except... there's a strange mourning for people she'd never met before as she realizes what Star means, people she thought she'd grown up with and lost. She generally avoids Jonah as much as she usually avoids Noah since then. "Oh, the dream night?" Okay, a lot of things are starting to make sense. "It wasn't real. It was just -- it was fucked up. It's okay to leave it as a dream. Tell him to fuck off, or I can tell him for you."

A chain hung between them, solid and real and very much attached to his wrist. "I didn’t do this," he said quickly, lifting his hand just enough to hear the metal clink. He gave the cuff a small, testing shake. It had weight to it. Real weight. Then his gaze snapped back to her. "I-- What? How did you do this?" He hadn't seen her move. Not beyond poking him in the chest. "Seriously," he said, eyes narrowing. "Where the hell did you get handcuffs?"

Noah's concerned with the handcuffs, but Marlana's still stuck on being called a pizza cutter. "Says the salad spinner of the kitchen!" she retorts, but she can't even make the salad spinning mostly correctly because their hands are chained together. Not only is he insulting her, but now this man has the nerve to blame Lana?

"First of all, do you think I just bring handcuffs to the bar? What am I gonna do, handcuff a guy to the toilets? Be so fucking for real. Second, why would I handcuff myself to you? Mr. Good Two-Shoes Hero Guy? I don't even talk to you!" Says the girl who was literally talking to him pre-handcuffs, but that wasn't her fault! "God, I do not have time for this. Do you have bolt cutters or something?"

"Oh. You don't like cheese? That's weird," Billie stated matter of factly, but then they shrugged and started portioning out Giselle's bowl. "Suit yourself. More for me."

"Christopher Robin?" she asked softly. "Like the book character?" That did sound like something she would name a little boy, and somehow that made the whole thing worse. More personal. More possible, even when it couldn’t be. Her gaze dropped to his tiny hand, and after a second of hesitation, she reached out. The boy wrapped his tiny fist around her finger, and Beverly’s heart ached so sharply she almost forgot to breathe. "Oh," she whispered, because apparently that was all she had.

Then Giselle asked about Elijah. Beverly looked back up at her, expression softening into something sadder. "I hope Elijah exists in every universe," she replied quietly. The words hurt more than she expected them to. Still, a small, fragile smile tugged at Bev’s lips. "Even if you stole me from him." Her eyes searched Giselle’s face again, worried more for her than anything else. "Are you sure you’re okay?"

"Like the book character," Giselle repeats, as if not verbally saying yes makes it less of a deception. Watching the little hand gripping Beverly's hand leaves her eyes glassy. Her brain is working on overdrive, desperate to retreat and make this into something logical. There's not a scenario where she'd try to transfer to Vice, especially after last -- ... if this is all a simulation, then last night wasn't real. She's momentarily frozen, replaying everything that happened through the lens of it being a simulation, of the real Will watching somewhere, in public and mortified.

It's this same notion, that the city could be watching, that keeps Giselle from confessing one of several things she should have trusted Beverly with years ago. What if Oliver's watching this very moment? There's very little in the world Giselle can't tolerate more than the feeling that she's trapped. Maybe she's in a fever dream, but on the off chance she's right? What are the risks? She'd already have failed one simulation; was it two or three failures before a person didn't wake up? Externally, she kisses the little boy's forehead, offers a soft laugh to Beverly's... something about Elijah in every universe, tries to appear composed. Think. You can survive this. How did the last Trials she'd seen go? They had to... Well, she hadn't watched them all, but how did they win? Hadn't it been with honesty? ... What's worse? Being honest and surviving to face everyone involved after or being stuck in this simulation permanently? Pride and cowardice nearly selects the latter immediately.

"I think Elijah's perfect for you," she admits, ignoring Bev's question on her well-being. "Maybe we can find him later. Maybe you're still together and you only had a kid with me because there was a scientific breakthrough and my looks were too irresistible. Do you know Elijah?" she asks.... their son. Giselle exhales slowly through her nostrils as the little boy's face lights up, squirming in her arms. "Unk Eli!" ... Alright, so maybe she... had beat Elijah in this universe. The circumstances are unimaginably bad, and she still can't resist the smug little smile her lips curve into. "I hope you're watching, Eli," she mutters under her breath. Maybe staying here wouldn't be so terrible. "Bev. What's your ideal day? In a world where we always had Christia-- Christopher. Would you want to go to the park?"