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Otto was growing more accustomed to taking up observation duties in the underwater post. Sure, the dark, mysterious depths beyond the thick wall of glass between himself and the ocean was scary. However, it made it easy to stop thinking when he stared at the still nothingness beyond. He'd stopped talking to people for a very long time now. He'd allowed himself to be as alone and quiet as he desired. Completely cut off, and sinking inside his own insecurities and misery. Just how he wanted it.

Afraid to hurt others, afraid to be hurt. Afraid to make mistakes or make regrets. He just didn't want to make any more impacts on his own life and the lives of others. Perhaps he ought to find a way to continue existing in a manner that didn't involve interacting with others. Some way to to exist, yet not exist.

He felt incapable of doing any good, either for himself or for the people he thought he loved. Or even any good as a hunter for the island. Really, what good was he?

So he leaned in his chair, his blue eyes dulling as he lost himself staring out into the deep beyond the glass.

Boring. This solitude was boring, but it was for the best. Yeah, for the best.

The door opening roused Otto from his thoughts, slowly. He only finally thought to see who it was when they'd already sat beside him. Hearing the voice, he turned and saw that it was Chance. Really, it could have been worse. He liked Chance, after all. However, it still felt odd. Awkward? No, maybe just uncomfortable in a way. Unresolved issues, or just a boiling ball of tension that he refused to address.

"Hey." He murmured back, feeling the urge to curl so tightly into a ball he imploded in on himself. Knowing that such a thing would never work, he didn't attempt it.

Oh boy. A whole lot of hours to look forward to. Awkward silence was sure to fill most of them. He almost felt like it had gotten hot in the otherwise chilly room, as sweat formed on the nap of his neck. Dammit, he didn't want to be here right now. When did being around others, or Chance, suddenly feel so terribly suffocating and difficult? What was he so afraid of?

Otto compulsively opened his phone to check the time, resting it in his lap; his head down. Minutes dragged on and on so much he almost wondered if the damned thing was busted. He stiffly nodded, fidgeting with the device in his grasp.

"M'fine." His reply seemed automatic, not an answer he'd actually considered. This was stupid. He was stupid. Why did Otto feel the need to make everything so complicated? Why was it so hard to let himself relax and let things evolve one way or another? Because he was scared; as always he was scared of what he might do. What might happen. How close he might get to someone. How much he might change. He'd changed so drastically over the course of the years he'd been on the island. He didn't want to change. He wanted to.... to...

He couldn't help but replay horrible things over and over in his head. Moments in time he felt embarrassed to recall. Moments where his judgement slipped. His breakup with Maebe and Cami, or when he felt he'd become too comfortable with Chance, or when he'd gone to bed with Sasha and later found out she'd wanted him for the key he held. Honestly, why did she play him like that. Years of trust shattered with one mission.
In the end, things would always go badly, either because of himself or others.

Otto felt a compulsion to hear what Chance had to say, but when he'd trailed off... there was no closure. What had he meant to say?

"...What is it?" He asked cautiously.

Maybe he did want to talk. Maybe he didn't want to pretend he was fine being by himself. But what he didn't want was to be a whiner. A complainer. A guy who leeches off of others good souls to get comfy and cozy, only to leave as soon as he was done. Or to be a guy who let himself fall into a trap, lured into the sweet ginger bread house, only to be plumped up for dinner. To use, or to be used. To hurt, or be hurt. He was scared of topping the scale one way or another.

"I'm not really that okay." He murmured honestly, if not a little too quietly. "But I dunno that talkin' about it or not can even fix nuthin'." He felt as if he just whined about the same things, was given the same advice in turn; and then just found himself back at square one again. Did he not learn? Did he not evolve and grow? He changed a lot, but was he ever changing for the better? Or would he always travel down the path that made him feel worn and dirty.

Open book. Take him as he is. Easy to say, of course. And it would be so easy to trust him. Otto never used to trust anyone. But now? He'd trust just about anyone who said the right thing at the right time. He liked the reassuring hand on his shoulder, and the kind voice that paired with it. He just wished it wasn't so complicated to accept.

Drowning was right. Whether in his own feelings, emotions and insecurities, Otto was always drowning in trouble. Always just able to stay afloat most times, but never did the struggle seem to end.

His heart never seemed to settle as it beat irrationally in his tightened chest. His mind never ceasing in it's whirring and over heating gears and gadgets; worrying over every nuance and change in the air. What would it feel like to be Chance? To feel at ease on a daily basis, or to simply be numb? He'd almost attained that level once or twice, but it was so fleeting. His emotions always came back like a thundering stampede.

He held his breath, until he felt ready to try and say something. Anything. There was so much on his mind that choosing any one thing involved stacking the thoughts in order of priority. Yet every one of them had the same level of urgency as the last, making priority impossible.

"Trust...." He mumbled, "I can't trust some people... no, that's... more like I feel that I can't trust my own judgement. Of other people. I trust the wrong ones, and turn my back on people who actually matter... I think." He'd put his faith in Sasha, and turned sour to Maebe; only to be proven wrong in the blink of an eye. He was truly despicable.
"I do stuff cause I think I'm doin' the right thing.. but I'm always wrong."

He just wanted to be right. Just once.

"It's like... I can't see things through too far?" He tried not to name names, or even explain where he was coming from. He was afraid to be too detailed and came off as vague. "It will be. It's always negative." He asserted stubbornly.

"And as for turning my back... on people.." He grimaced. Too many times to count, he was sure he'd done it. Run away. "It doesn't matter.." He really ought to be alone. Be sent away, so he would hurt no one. So he could never say a bad thing, or be selfish and act like a child. "Just trust me when I say I'm a shitty person."

"What about you?" He repeated back, leaning slouched in his chair.

"It makes no difference if it matters to me. Whenever I do something I think is in my best interest, I hurt myself or someone else. I'm so neck deep in s**t that I don't think I can fix anythin'." And there was no way to tell him. He couldn't tell anyone else about the key now. Not after what happened. He was alone in his battle. As far as his mistakes with others were concerned, it was a problem he'd also have to deal with alone. No one could fix his mistakes for him. He couldn't even fix his own. So many problems had attached themselves to him, he couldn't remember what ones he was more upset about.