Inbox for Ryslig

[crazyequalsgenius]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, RICHARD BROOK. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 158.427.1.39 *** RBROOK has joined 158.427.1.39 <RBROOK> hi, this is rich brook! leave a message and have a lovely day! :)

Comments

Action - feeds u sensory information for jim's observational skills

[drowningman]

[Alan doesn't know what Scratch gets up to when he leaves the apartment, and honestly? He doesn't want to know. Even after a few days rest, he's still got years of exhaustion to catch up on, and he doesn't have the energy to play games with him or hunt him down or whatever while also focusing on getting settled.

Getting settled is such a weird thought to have, especially since he's still not entirely sure this isn't just another reality manifested by the Darkness. But it's what keeps being recommended in all the materials for new arrivals, so... Getting settled. He's trying.

In the middle of this, he's in the main living space at the moment with his laptop set up, papers and pens scattered over a table with both a can of coffee from the konbini and a lowball glass of whiskey amidst the chaos. With Scratch out, Alan has been taking the time to focus on mulling over the job prospects and writing. The broadcast station ad meant an opportunity to create something new while establishing a reputation for his work, but he'd need a way to afford things around that.

And in the midst of all his attempts at focus, there's a knock on the door. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose a moment.]

Coming! [It's clear from the other side of the door that his voice is laced with mild annoyance despite an attempt at polite acknowledgement of whoever is waiting. After a moment, the door opens to what would be a familiar, but not entirely the same face. Despite attempts to comb it back, Alan's hair falls loosely around his face and his beard is a touch fuller that the Other Alan's. One might even notice there's slightly more age around the eyes on this one. He's dressed for comfort right now: a plain t-shirt and jeans, creating a far cry visually from the slicked back, dressed up Alan that has been met before.]

Yeah? What is it? [He doesn't recognize whoever this is as someone from the hotel staff so this is as polite as it gets. The scent of coffee and whiskey are present in equal measure on his breath as he speaks. The messy little setup is visible from the doorway if one were to look past him.]

Action - Backdated to just after Scratch said he wanted to Talk

[tolduimapsycho]

Helloooooooooo....

[It's extraordinarily little time between when the apartment number is given and when there is a knock and greeting at the door. Not JUST a knock, either - a cheerful shave-and-a-haircut number, strong and sharp. When the door is opened, it will reveal a grinning, disheveled "Alan Wake," sporting no shoes, an unbuttoned black waistcoat with no blazer, and carrying a half-consumed bottle of scotch in one hand.

He looks delighted, rakish, and sleazy all at once, but tries to keep at least a measure of manner in his posture. At least until he gets let in.]

Guess who's just two doors down, neighbor?

action; liminal spaces event

[grivences]

[ Robin has no idea how long it's been since she and Max were separated. Hours? Days? She hasn't felt comfortable stopping to sleep, spurred on by the emptiness of her stomach and the uneasy feeling that even though the rooms and hallways she's walking through are completely empty, somehow she can't help but think she's not alone.

She keeps going, keeps walking, legs tired and aching but feeling too nervous to stop, like a weird mishmash of a shark that will die if it stops swimming, and a prey animal, startled by the slightest sound. She feels like an odd mix of predator and prey, having started to change into a new kind of monster, but without any of the murderous hunger she felt the last two times she stopped being human.

She's in a long hallway, with doors dotted along either side. At first, she tried opening every door she came across, hoping that one of them would lead out. But after a dozen or so doors, she's accepted that the better course of action is to see what's at the end of the hallway. Only... The hallway doesn't seem to have an end in sight. As she looks forward, it keeps going and going, curving subtly to the right in such a way that it vanishes from view before she sees where it leads. If she turns and looks behind her, the view is the same. She is only half sure she's still heading in the same direction she started in, when suddenly one of the doors behind her opens, and she whirls around at the sound, eyes wide, not sure what or who to expect. ]