The saltwater pool isn't a recuperacoon, but it's close enough that you nod off in it (once you're done complaining to Pancho about how Erskin used you as a substitute Cloris and then walked off like you were a used facial tissue). When you wake up you're chilled, your fingers and toes are wrinkled, and your hair is a joke. You take a long, long shower. It feels good to be clean. Already your mood is looking up. It's nice to dress in something other than tactical gear, too. Erskin seems to have picked up some kind of hipster fashion disease from Cloris, so you don't want to be too casual, but you're not going to compete with him either. White jeans, light blue tank top, and a jacket with your sign on a shoulder patch should about do it. You put your hair up, pluck a few stray eyebrow hairs -- Pancho keeps telling you you don't have muppet brows but she's wrong, okay -- and pronounce yourself handsome enough not to be an embarrassment to your vicinity. Feeling basically okay, you step out of the bathroom -- and let out a loud "WHAT the FUCK?" before you can control yourself. Whoops, the others are still sleeping. After another moment's perusal of the wreck that used to be the suite's lounge, though, you decide to be loud on purpose: "ERSKIN DISASTER ASPERA, DID YOU TRASH THE SUITE?"