[ Tim manages a small chuckle despite himself. Alan's got a pretty damp kind of humor, but, it's there. Subtle. It just takes the right thing to say. Right time, right sense of irony. It's taken some work, but, Tim thinks he's figured out how to navigate Alan pretty well. He can see where the news and paparazzi would make their claims about Alan and they were right, but, he can also see how they were way off the mark.
Alan responds to what buttons you push--at least, that's how Tim sees it. If you smack those buttons that drive him into a corner? He'll lash out like a wounded animal. Give him space, time, offer some help? He'll be like everyone else.
Minus the fact they're stuck in nightmare dream land. ]
Well, I'm not leaving until I find out more about Door. He's been in my head and dreams for years. I'm not going back home until I find out why. So, you got me here as long as you want to keep working together. Or, forget again, I guess.
[ So, Alan knew of Nightingale. It seems like trying to get answers about thirteen years ago isn't going to work. Not while they're in the Dark Place at least. ]
We found him tied to a picnic table outside the closed up Cauldron Lake General Store. Bloated. Wrists and ankles tied up for some sort of ritual killing. But, yeah, his heart had been cut out. Agent Anderson said it was left on the table next to him. There... [ Tim pauses, having to focus to remember these details. It was right before he was pulled here. ] She was doing an autopsy. Found a page stuffed inside him like a Thanksgiving turkey. Pulled out, started to read it. That's when I went to show her the pages we had been finding around town, the woods.
I tried to give her one specific page. That's when Door got me. Brought me here.
[ He nods to himself as if finally confirming it all in his head. ]
You know the old saying, Alan. "Home is where the heart is." [ He just has the feeling it'll help somehow. A simple saying, an old one. A little cliche. But, something about it just feels like what Alan needs. ] And this "someone" is your doppleganger. The one you warned me about that looks like you, wandering around the not New York. Right?
[ Tim goes to say something else, but something catches his attention. He turns his head, rain bouncing off the rim of his hat as he looks down the street. The TV goes static as the transmission falls off. He sees a dark street, but it seems to be... more. But he can't see what it really is.
He can't see the talk show building. He can't make it manifest. Alan can, though. He'll need the Writer to lead him to it. Maybe then they can find out more about this Jesse Faden. ]
no subject
Alan responds to what buttons you push--at least, that's how Tim sees it. If you smack those buttons that drive him into a corner? He'll lash out like a wounded animal. Give him space, time, offer some help? He'll be like everyone else.
Minus the fact they're stuck in nightmare dream land. ]
Well, I'm not leaving until I find out more about Door. He's been in my head and dreams for years. I'm not going back home until I find out why. So, you got me here as long as you want to keep working together. Or, forget again, I guess.
[ So, Alan knew of Nightingale. It seems like trying to get answers about thirteen years ago isn't going to work. Not while they're in the Dark Place at least. ]
We found him tied to a picnic table outside the closed up Cauldron Lake General Store. Bloated. Wrists and ankles tied up for some sort of ritual killing. But, yeah, his heart had been cut out. Agent Anderson said it was left on the table next to him. There... [ Tim pauses, having to focus to remember these details. It was right before he was pulled here. ] She was doing an autopsy. Found a page stuffed inside him like a Thanksgiving turkey. Pulled out, started to read it. That's when I went to show her the pages we had been finding around town, the woods.
I tried to give her one specific page. That's when Door got me. Brought me here.
[ He nods to himself as if finally confirming it all in his head. ]
You know the old saying, Alan. "Home is where the heart is." [ He just has the feeling it'll help somehow. A simple saying, an old one. A little cliche. But, something about it just feels like what Alan needs. ] And this "someone" is your doppleganger. The one you warned me about that looks like you, wandering around the not New York. Right?
[ Tim goes to say something else, but something catches his attention. He turns his head, rain bouncing off the rim of his hat as he looks down the street. The TV goes static as the transmission falls off. He sees a dark street, but it seems to be... more. But he can't see what it really is.
He can't see the talk show building. He can't make it manifest. Alan can, though. He'll need the Writer to lead him to it. Maybe then they can find out more about this Jesse Faden. ]
We should get moving.