[Center][h2]Dakota Rhett[/h2]
[sub]November 29th? - ???[/sub]
[hr]
[/Center]

Dakota's view shifted to look at Jin, glad to have some backing on this. A list of locations like that would surely be helpful to their case, as who would just have such a thing laying around, right? Though, Dakota's building enthusiasm was put into shambles as Vincent was tossed in among them. The man had caused them harm, and it was more than reasonable to be pissed with him. Hell, Dakota wouldn't mind calling him a damn dumbass for what he caused to everyone with his stunt. Yet there was a small amount of pity in his expression, with just how bad he'd been treated. His body was battered, and even if he had tried to run, he had to question if such treatment was necessary. The damage to their feet, and what he'd taken had been something, but this guy still wasn't a prisoner yet they put him through the ringer. 

Pondwater's words pulled him from these thoughts, to an extent. The boy knew he couldn't confront these 'people' about it, or things would escalate. Though, things were escalating, just in a different manner. Slowly Dakota put his phone away, surprised by the man's willingness to accept their situation. "E-Eh?" He couldn't form an actual response, his brain pondering on how casual Pondwater seemed about this, and how it was an apparent 'stroke of luck' for everyone involved. He sure as hell didn't feel lucky right now.

Barney covered for where Dakota couldn't speak. The revelation that this wasn't much of an abnormal situation in Pondwater's eyes was a strange one, that caused Dakota to actually take a small step backwards out of a mixture of hesitation and concern for where this was all leading. 

Pondwater's continued speech left Dakota's mind spinning, though to him it made sense in the worst of ways. He looked down in a moment of silent self-reflection, thinking about his own shortcomings. He'd failed, hadn't he? He proved faulty to a point where he lost his opportunity, losing what he'd strived for in life. The metaphorical line of 'Many will stumble, trip, and fall' felt right at home. In a path filled to the brim with competition, his own mishap lead to being left on the wayside and having no way to recover. Stranded, a failure, despite his own talent. Such cases weren't really considered in life, it was just too late. Despite this depressing acceptance in his mind, his blood boiled with a repressed anger. An irritation, a reflection of unfairness that screamed in his head. He was going to be successful by his own merits! He had the potential, but then fate dealt him a shitty card. 

But if he had that much faith in himself, then why did he feel so down all the time? Why couldn't he progress towards anything else and feel better, despite the shortcoming? Why couldn't he just move on and figure out his own life? Was success in one area, now squandered, leaving him with nothing worthwhile? Was he just a loser? A failure? Unworthy of anything else out of life at this point? What the hell was the answer, here? And why couldn't he figure it out? The questions pounded in his head, and he fought between being reasonable and lashing out from his own emotions. Thankfully, for the fallen group, he kept himself relatively calm. But there was a clear mixture of emotions on his face.

"So," He managed to speak up, though he was feeling extremely off put by the situation now. The details outside weren't something he was piecing together outside of the initial horror, as he was more focused on what was being shoved in his face. An ultimatum of sorts, a judgement from this man. "We're going to be judged? To see if we're 'bound for greatness', or..." His gaze turned back towards the doors behind them, past the others. "Deserving to be labeled as [i]failures?[/i]"

A part of Dakota still wasn't entirely believing all of this, from the sheer absurdity. How could a prison like this exist and operate, after all? Yet, Pondwater's lack of surprise about how they arrived was chilling, and Dakota couldn't have dreamt this all up even on the worst night of his life. Another part of him was angry; Feeling like something was scratching past his scalp, and directly etching claws into his skull. Anger that he was [b]not[/b] a failure, and that he could prove otherwise. Not like they had much choice now, it seemed like Pondwater didn't exactly intend for them to leave. He said everything except that, after all. And in this moment of possible judgement, now having knowledge of it, Dakota felt an urge to not look weak. 

He stood there, his foot placing back where it originally had been before. He kept his eyes forward, not wanting to associate with that sight behind those doors they came through. To say he wasn't scared was a damn lie, but in a sick way, something like this [i]was[/i] what he wanted. An answer, one way or another, if he was a failure. Innocent, or guilty. If what Pondwater said was true, then maybe he really did end up falling here on purpose. He followed those cracks, after all. And he could've jumped from the gazebo if he really wanted to get away, now that hindsight was hitting him. Was he going crazy and trying to justify everything? Or was this just acceptance of Pondwater's words?

Dakota figured he'd know soon enough, and took to the assumption Pondwater was being truthful back to them. Regardless if this was a nightmare or reality, he had nothing going for him if he tried to run but another beating. And out of stupidity, his own pride banging around in his head, or a mixture of both, he was standing there. Deciding to see what exactly Pondwater planned to do in order to judge them, not leaving any side questions lingering in the air.