[b]Pink![/b]

Some embedded routine suggested to Pink that she should be genuinely concerned by how much she related to John. Liking him was easy, everyone liked him probably, but more than that she adored how committed to his vision he was. He was like... what she might be if she had Yellow's confidence and influence. Covering the station with lizards and damn the consequences, fuck anyone who complained. Yellow would cover the station with reptiles [i]for [/i]John, but...

She's in the kitchens. Her vision whirls. All of these cabinets, all of these refrigerators, infrastructure to cook for a hundred. How could such a large space condense down into a three step, four ingredient radius? What kind of person had a room that could have made a decent skate park when what they used was so tiny? 

"Please don't put me down," she said, gripping tight. Just in case.

"Thank you for saying, John," she recovered. "I came here because this place has a lot of bad memories for me. Part of me wanted to just burn it all down... but that's not it. I think, from up here... I wasn't angry at this place. I was angry that this place never got the chance to be alive. Never got the chance to do what it was built for. Thirty guest rooms, always empty. A library, never touched. This kitchen, used exclusively to make," she took a steadying pause. "Cucumber, mayonnaise and cheese sandwiches, served on white bread, crusts cut off. The owner had her television in her bedroom and could watch all the anime she wanted from in there and so never needed to explore the rest. And so I feel like this house never got the chance to [i]live[/i]."

She smiled down at him. "And like I said, I love what you've done with the place. But even now there's something missing. All the traps. This place is still shut off from the world, from it's full potential, and that's still breaking my heart. I just want... I just want this place to be everything it could be, everything it should be. Even just for one night, I want to see every room shine."

[b]Yellow![/b]

"Excellent points," said Yellow demurely. "I think my underlying problem is that I don't understand human fears as well as I'd like. I know the traditional answer is to share one's own fears around but I'm afraid - ha ha - mine are too weird to easily translate. And so I think I have a tendency to rant from the thesaurus, as it were, when I start reaching for spooky symbolism. Can you provide any pointers?"

[b]Orange![/b]

Orange takes the Flynn costume and she wears it well. She's always had the most masculine presentation of the colours, the kind of clear eye contact and firm handshake that gets co-opted by the untrustworthy. She more than any other colour always, always has the appearance of having her shit totally and completely together. 

But she still curls up on Bondi's lap, watching the screen horizontally, letting herself be gently pet all through the movie. 

[b]Red![/b]

Red walks in and shoots Crystal with a gun.

"Oh - right, sorry, I was meant to text you first," she said apologetically a moment afterwards. "I just got my filters adjusted - sorry, let me take a look."

She helps Crystal sit up and taps the dent on the centre of the chest, right above her heart. "Look, see? You're bulletproof." She grinned. "I checked out the armour specs beforehand and overclocked this magnail gun to - nevermind. It was meant to be a gift but not so much a surprise - sorry." Red could do this impossible thing where she was genuinely sorry without being down on herself about it at all. Like, she felt bad and was going to do her best to be better, but she was also somehow aware that if she started to hate herself for being stupid she wouldn't get anything else done today.