@greycommand
Irving walks into the woods and does not die.
At least, he has to assume he doesn't. He's not fully sure if death is supposed to feel a certain way, but he would have if nothing else imagined it does not typically involve waking up again. But he does, and he steps out of something that is not an elevator into a room that couldn't possibly have been put together by Lumon, not in a million years, unless they're scaling up those kindness reforms by a significant margin. When he sits down they stick an interview form into his hands.
Strange. He rather would have imagined this part of the process is covered by one's Outie, not him - he certainly didn't fill out any such papers when he arrived at Lumon; at least, his memories don't extend back that far. He holds his tongue as he fills out the papers. Questions such as where am I and what am I meant to be doing will be answered on the company's own time, that much he's certain of, and he's not all too eager to start asking aloud why they've permitted his continued existence. Just feels like that would be outside of his best interest.
He's not sure what the stranger in front of him gleans from the whole process - Irving sits ram-rod straight and watches him carefully as he reads through the answers - but such things aren't for severed workers to know, and he sets Irving off with a key and a mobile phone and not a badge in sight. Irving exits the building, feels the sun on his face, and his memories ( what little there are; Helly shaking in his arms and the hatred, disgust in Mark and Dylan's faces ) remain fully in-place.
Well then.
He stands on the sidewalk blinking up at the sky, the vast expanse of it. That makes three counts, now, that he's seen it. More than any other Innie that he knows of. He supposes he should be feeling blessed but he can't quite work up that level of emotion, not even in the face of this. He would have expected someone to offer him an explanation, some direction. A warning - second chances are a rare thing and the last thing he wants to do is get himself terminated again before he's had the chance to find out how long it's been, what happened to the others. Across the street is a woman with white hair, and though she doesn't seem like she's specifically headed his way she's bound to know something. It's that or turn right back around into the room he was just dismissed from, and that man in there gave off upper management energy like nothing else. He'd rather not.
"Hello," he calls across the street to her, lifts a hand. "Hello. I'm sorry, I'm— I've just completed the interview process and I'm not all too sure where my work station is. Glacier's Peak? Are you at all familiar with the department head?"