[Damien glances over from where he's curled up around his own drink, his bad leg stretched out in front of him. he's not smiling, but he seems relaxed enough -- a lot calmer than he was, when he arrived here. he's also, for what feels like a for once, not in pain from his leg. it's nice. this is all oddly nice]

[that in mind, when he answers, it's casually enough] The way I see it, we have two options. One, turns out life is a lot more like the plot of a sci-fi movie than I'm comfortable with -- [they're in the Matrix, and them arriving here was one hell of a glitch] -- or two, we're dead and this is Hell. [a beat] I've ruled out 'dream', for the record. [pulling his hand away from his drink, he taps it against the brace on his leg. if this was a dream, he wouldn't be fucking crippled, still]