"I am new," Elliot points out. It's not like he can disguise that; it doesn't seem like there's so many of them that another host, even one who donned the alien outfit and followed along with the steps of the dance everyone choreographed before he got here, can just act like he's been here the whole time. And there's a grace period, with newness. Where it's okay to ask questions, to fuck up.

-- Why are you trying to fit in? Mr Robot seethes, summoned by the possibility of alcohol. Elliot doesn't have an answer, ignores him, focusing with unnerving intensity on Kaji.

"Maybe. If you've got something on you." It's not like there's a bar. If the guy brought his own, maybe that says something particular about him.