synthneon | oceanview (different path) || ❝ turn the page i need to see something new. ❞

... Okay. [ Jesse curls into him slightly more. ] Together.

[ Eventually, the two drift off to sleep once they lay back down. Jesse more or less remains where she is, sleeping on top of him. Maybe slightly off to his side. The sleep isn't as deep as one would have thought for their activity, but it is enough to ease her into a state of comfort.

Alan, however, may not have as restful as a night. Enlightening may be a far better word. Revealing could be another way to describe it.

The night has settled in and Alan Wake finds himself on a small familiar bridge. One that led to Diver's Island with the Bird Leg Cabin looming over head. The night air is cool for September and odd heaviness hangs. Almost as if a tension is waiting to be sprung and all it takes is one match to set it ablaze.

The cabin has been empty except for the affects left by the previous occupants: apparently the poet Thomas Zane. Books, plates, pictures, even the study where the man worked are all present and oddly pristine. Untouched. Almost as if the famous ill-fated poet had simply been there the day before.

A perfect place to get away from the world to try and write a comeback novel.

Maybe one that could also save his marriage, despite the divorce papers that had been served and signed.

A scream cuts through the air. A familiar one that Alan should know whenever the lights went out. Then, a cry for help from the house for him. Strange... hadn't he come to the island alone? ]

[ Alan smiles and moves in a little closer, not quite snuggling against her but not pulling away from her either. It's nice to have someone close by like this, even if he hasn't exactly said it out loud.

But when he eventually falls asleep, it doesn't stay restful for long. He starts to dream, and at first, he stays still, lying next to Jesse and looking unbothered. But then the dream continues and it seems normal enough. But the images being conjured up in his sleeping mind's eye gradually become less and less normal; there's a darkness beginning to creep over everything, slowly at first and barely noticeable, but soon, it starts to appear as though shadows have come to life and are weaving themselves around trees, bushes, rocks... and around an unsuspecting individual.

Said individual is looking ahead of him, up past the bridge and to what he can see of the cabin up ahead. It looks relatively unremarkable from the outside, and yet Alan feels drawn to it somehow.

Still, he stands there looking at the cabin until a scream cuts through the air. ]

What the hell was that? [ But he knows the answer as soon as he asks the question, and he knows immediately who made the scream. The voice is one he'd know anywhere, even if they're currently estranged. In the dream, he takes off running, and he jerks abruptly on the bed next to Jesse as lines of tension form on his forehead.

Everything after that seems to happen in a blur. There's another scream, and Alice calls out for help, and then... there's a splash. Alan jerks on the bed as horror grips him in the dream. He runs to the drop off point, but it's too late. Alice is already underwater. Without even hesitating, Alan dives into the water after her, and the Alan that's on the bed next to Jesse shifts again.

He wants to wake up, to end the dream, but it seems as though he can't pull himself free of it just yet. Fitting, in a way, since he has yet to be able to pull himself free of the story. ]

[ The jerking motions and attempt at turning is what wakes Jesse more than anything. She raises her head sleepily, eyes focusing on him in the room with the lessened light. She readjusts. Head goes on his chest and arms wrap around him to try and be comforting. Something has woken him up but refuses to let him wake. All she hopes is that it isn't the Dark Presence.

« Can you help him? »

Polaris shifts and Jesse doesn't quite understand it. Why can't Polaris help? What's going on with Alan?

He's... not doing it to himself. Is he? ]

Alan?

[ As Alan claws himself out of the Lake, a woman stands at the edge of the pier. An elderly woman. Funeral garb. A netting hangs in front of her face.

A hand extends and then gestures to the cabin looming above them. ]

{ Look at the cabin. Is there someone in the window? Maybe she didn't drown at all. Maybe she's inside. }

[ Alan continues sleeping, but the dream continues to plague him. Maybe it's less of a dream and more of a nightmare, but either way, Alan watches himself laboriously climb up the stairs, urged on by the woman in the dark clothes and netting covering her face. Alice might be up there, inside the cabin, or so the woman says.

He can't stop; he can't not go look for her. Maybe... maybe if she's there, they can talk. Or maybe she'll throw divorce papers in his face. He lurches on the bed once more, as if protesting that idea.

The stairs don't seem to end, and Alan feels his strength starting to wane. The old woman urges him to keep going, and so he tries to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Sometimes he has to stop; sometimes he all but falls onto the stairs. But he keeps going somehow.

Finally, his staggering steps bring him up to the porch, and he bends over winded, trying to catch his breath. Alan's breath catches as he lies next to Jesse, and his eyelids flicker as if saying he wants to wake up, but he's still unable to for some reason.

Back inside the dream, he hesitates just inside the doorway, taking a look around the seemingly empty cabin. ]

Where is she? She's not here. I don't- No one's here. Was there ever anyone here? [ I lost her again. ]

{ You were foolish to think that she was. She's gone. Divorced. DEAD. } [ The old woman is suddenly beside him again as if she had always been there. Always been at his side, guiding him. Helping him write. Why wouldn't she have been there from the start? ] { It's your fault that she's gone. Dead. All she wanted to do was help you write. You got her killed. }

[ As Alan falls to his knees, the old woman reaches over. A gentle but freezing cold hand rests on top of his head. ] { Oh, hush. You forgot. Cauldron Lake is a special place. Here, you have the power to change things. } [ The old woman's hand turns to be outstretched to help him up. ] { I will tell you what to do. You can write her back. The story will come true and all will be well again. }

[ The woman helps Alan to the desk where the typewriter sits. She gently eases him down, hand on the shoulder. She seems to care to some degree that Alan has lost his beloved wife. Even seems set on helping him bring her back. Then, she pauses. Eyes dart straight to the hallway. No one seems to be standing there, but there is. Her face contorts into something monstrous before rushing at the door screaming "YOU!"

The cabin falls dark.

The only illumination from a small desk lamp that allows enough room to see the direct area of the desk. The pages. The typewriter. Beyond the twin windows is something like vast dark ocean. Specs of light can be seen. Echoes of things beyond his reach at the surface. Sometimes, the heavy breathing of a diving suit can be heard.

Yet, one day in that week he had lost, something stands out in the never ending dark ocean. It's far from twinkling lights. Almost like a geometric light pattern that seems to spiral like a sea shell. It floats above the cabin like a star that could point him home.

Barbara Jagger is strict. An editor that that hates any additions to her notes she's given him. It has to be perfect to bring back his wife! No sight seeing, no looking out the windows longingly. All that matters is the work.

Regardless of the sweet things that Jagger whispers in his ear, that pattern remains in the "sky." Sometimes the breathing from the diving suit is louder and a light shines. The pattern becomes more visible until it dims once more. On the day that he decides to look at that pattern, a gentle knock comes at the door to the attic room he has been stuck in.

A bright light comes from under the door.

A voice he didn't recognize then but may now know comes muffled from the other side. ]

｟ Alan? Alan Wake? ｠

[ Barbara's words crash onto Alan like a ton of bricks and he staggers as if he's actually been struck with something. ]

Wh- No, no, she can't be dead! [ Alan lurches away from Barbara as she keeps talking, keeps saying those terrible words that might as well be punches aimed at him that he can't dodge.

Horror and grief wash over him and he finds he can't remain standing any longer; there's a thud as he falls heavily to land on his knees, and his entire frame just drops. ]

... She's dead. [ A part of Alan rebels against this, because what if Barbara is just screwing with him? What if Alice is perfectly fine? Alive and well and not here? Why should he believe Barbara's words?

But all he can hear repeatedly in his mind is you got her killed, and that more than anything else drowns out all rational thought.

Her explanations about how he can bring Alice back register dimly in his mind, but he doesn't really comprehend them. Even when she helps him stand and guides him over to the desk, it's clear that Alan's movements are automatic. Rote. He's not really thinking about what he's doing.

He doesn't speak or even react, not even when Barbara rushes to the door and screams at something that she's seen there. Darkness falls over the cabin, and Alan just sits at the desk, eyes staring blankly at the typewriter in front of him. The sound of breathing from a diving suit dimly registers in his thoughts, but he can hardly form a coherent thought right now, not when all of his thoughts are focused on Alice and getting Alice back.

He writes, and then he writes more, and page after page piles up on the desk as Barbara stands next to him whispering in his ear. He doesn't see anything but the typewriter, although some dim spark of his awareness tells him he should look up and look at the window. But Barbara drowns that out too, telling him he just needs to keep writing, and then Alice will be saved.

Barbara is always there, always watching and telling him to keep writing. Focus on the work and nothing else. The pile of pages keeps growing, and Alan doesn't look out the window. That is, until one day, the pattern grows brighter for a brief moment and that brief flash catches Alan's eye. He turns his head to look out the window before Barbara notices, but as soon as he does, the pattern grows dim again. He turns his attention back to his writing.

That is, until he spots light shining in underneath the door, and a voice says his name. In an instant, Alan is standing up from the typewriter and making a beeline for the door.

He presses his hand against the wooden surface and feeling a little ridiculous, because there can't really be someone talking to him through the door, he says: ]

... Hello? Is someone there? [ He knows it has to be in his head; it must be something he's imagining. No one probably even knows he's missing, much less cares to look for him. And it shouldn't matter anyway, since his priority is finishing the story and saving Alice.

... Right? ]

Edited 2024-08-13 16:24 (UTC)

[ A gentle sound, like chimes and a hum, seem to vibrate through the door the moment he touches it. Nothing intrusive. Just a sound that may actually seem louder the more Alan attempts to listen to it. ]

｟ You called us here. We're here. ｠

[ Suddenly, the sound of heavy breathing in a diver suit. A bright light from under the door. ]

｟ Alan. Step back. ｠

[ The door swings open. The bright light floods the attic room and drowns out every shadow. There, a mam in a diving suit floats, as if he is in water. ]

{ It isn't here now. I'm here because it was written. I brought the light to set you free. You must hurry. It will know I'm here. It will be back soon. }

[ "Thomas Zane" breathes heavily in the suit as he floats to the desk. ] { It stole the skin of my Barbara a long time ago. She looks so old. }

[ The Diver turns, a clawed suit hand raising to the door he entered in. No one else is in the hallway waiting. ] { Go. Listen to the sound of the star that is here because it was written. She will guide you. }

[ As if on queue, the sound that was on the other side of the door chimes in the room. A pattern of geometric light shimmers in what looks like the downstairs. Upon reaching the downstairs, the pattern seems to be outside. Then, down the small bridge that connects the cabin to the land. Finally, up the hill, surrounding the car that Alan had driven to get to the cabin.

As Alan reaches the car, the shimmer disappears but a hum can still be heard if his mind is clear enough. A gentle touch to his shoulders as if a familiar pair of hands are resting there. ]

｟ Around one constant they will revolve... find us. Alan, wake up. ｠

Alan, wake up!

[ Jesse's hands are on his shoulders as he comes to the waking world. Worry is clear in her eyes, hovering over him from being at his side. The room is filled with early morning light. They're not in the cabin, or in Bright Falls proper. They're in a room of a farmhouse that belongs to an old pair of local legends. ]

Alan. Are you okay?

[ What happens next seems to blend together into a crazy blur, but somehow, Alan can still follow it. The vibration travels through the door and into his hand, but he doesn't pull away from it. Some instinct tells him this isn't a bad thing. This could help him; it could help get him away from Barbara and her insidious words that weave their way into his mind. It's his mind, and he doesn't want anyone getting into it, at least not in the way that Barbara's doing.

A voice echoes and Alan freezes in his tracks. He's not afraid somehow, and he dimly remembers hearing a voice like that before. Even the heavy breathing is almost welcome. ]

I don't know how you always seem to show up just when I need something, but I'm not complaining.

[ He steps back as he was told, the door swings open, and everything is engulfed in light. Alan traces the sound of the voice and the breathing to the man in the diving suit that's floating above the floor. ]

Thanks... thanks for coming, even if it was only because- well, because someone made it happen. You still came.

[ The relief in Alan's voice is all but unmistakable. ] I'm really sorry about Barbara. I wish-

[ He doesn't get to finish the sentence, or maybe he doesn't finish because he doesn't know what else to say. A part of him doesn't want to leave the Diver behind, but Alan knows somehow that he has to go. ] You'll be okay, right? You'll get to see Barbara again. Your Barbara.

[ Somehow, Alan feels like that's important; he wants to know that the Diver will be all right, even if he never sees him again.

After a moment's pause, Alan starts to move, following the sound and the geometric pattern down a path, across a bridge, and up a hill. Then he reaches a car, and he reaches out for the door of the car, but something stops him. A touch, and then a voice... and then a stronger but somehow still panicked voice.

Alan jolts awake to find Jesse there with her hands on his shoulders. He gasps several times in succession as if he can't catch his breath, and he glances wildly around the room as if looking for Barbara's dark, creepy figure. ]

What- What happened? [ It takes a few more seconds for his breathing to slow and for his recollection of where he is to return. A hand clasps the side of his head as he tries to pull himself together. ]

[ The Diver remains quiet at Alan's sentiments. Perhaps he is no longer Zane as Alan understands him. Does he truly have a Barbara? Or, does he merely remember having a Barbara cause the story demands it? Fiction and reality have blended to a level that perhaps it simply is the truth now.

Jesse pulls her hands away the moment Alan wakes up. They hover above him, hesitant to touch him as he wildly looks around. His hand clasps his head. Jesse glances to the side. She sits up properly, still wearing her top from the night and activities before. ]

You were thrashing around and groaning. Did... you have a bad dream? Dreams?

[ « Did I do something wrong? It didn't seem like I did... » ]

[ Part of Alan wants to just lie down again next to Jesse and pull her in, forgetting about the harrowing images he saw in his dream. Was it a dream, or was it a nightmare? To him, "nightmare" seems more accurate. Whatever it was, he just wants to be next to Jesse and focus on her and not on the recollection that he was all but tricked into writing a story he didn't want to write.

But even that's complicated, because he wanted to save Alice, didn't he? He shakes his head once; Barbara had him so confused that he didn't even really know which way was up. ]

A dream. A nightmare. Maybe a dream that became a nightmare. I don't know what you'd call it, but- but I remember more now. Somehow, the dream helped me remember.

[ But even though he can remember the details, he feels as though he has to desperately hold onto those details or they'll start to slip away from him. ]

I didn't wake you up, did I?

[ Green eyes snap to his gray ones. He's laying down next to her, but she's sat up in order to try and wake him. Her hands drop to her lap. ]

You remembered that missing week? What happened?

[ « Does he remember what he wrote in th estory? Why WE'RE in the story? I know, you wanted me here for a reason. Something about the Dark Presence. But, maybe there's more to it. Maybe I can learn something that will explain what happened in Ordinary...

He knows sometbing about how all this works. Doesn't he? He HAS to. He wrote this story! » ]

What do you remember?

[ He should sit up too, but his mind is still reeling with what it can remember of the dream. What he can remember is vividly clear in his mind, and he can hear the sounds of the lake's waves and Barbara's voice and Alice's voice calling for him. His hands clench into fists as he tries his best to sort through what he saw in his dream. ]

I remember... Alice drowned, or Barbara said she did. She said I could fix it by writing the story. Changing the story to save Alice. I could get it all back if I just wrote the right things.

But I didn't want to; I mean, I wanted to, but not like that. Not with some creepy lady all in black hovering over me. [ He scrubs his face with one hand as bits of memories come and go. ]

There was a sound at the window, and a diver. I think I've seen the diver before. The diver was trying to help, and the sound... the sound was too, somehow. Barbara didn't want me looking out the window; she didn't want me hearing the sound. But I did look out the window sometimes, and I couldn't not hear the sound.

The sound and the diver got me out. I wonder what happened to the diver after that.

[ « Barbara? Jagger. The Scratching Hag, right? That local legend... and the Diver must be Thomas Zane. Alan had contact with them at the Lake.

Wait. »

A sound?

« He must mean YOU. Doesn't he? You reached out to him to help him. To stop the Dark Presence from getting in. Stopping this story. »

Jesse's hands curl slightly in the blankets. ]

That's her--my friend. That sound you heard. That was Polaris.

[ Alice drowned. Allegedly. Her gaze darts to the side once more in thought. Her lips press into a line.

« So... she's either really here, trapped in the Lake. Or, she's back home in their apartment in New York City? Something tells me we can't just call and see. We need to get back tl the Lake. If thr story lets us.

Did he write us into thr story because we were here already? Or, did you know he was going to, so you brought me here for that? Do the details really matter? You helped us shut off the Slide Projector. Now, you're helping Alan. » ]

You did write the story. Just how Jagger wanted you to. [ A nod. ] Which means we have to keep going with how the story goes... until some point.

Edited 2024-08-18 19:33 (UTC)

Polaris.

[ Alan repeats the name aloud, although he's heard it before. He knows the name. He knows Jesse's friend, her guide. Well, he knows her because Jesse's told him about her, and because Polaris has let him know her. Either way, just hearing the name spoken out loud causes Alan to relax. Why? Somehow, on some level, Alan associates Polaris and by extension, Jesse, with a feeling of safety.

Even if they're not safe, not by a long shot, there's a sense of security that he feels when he's around them. Maybe it's because he could still be haunted by Barbara. Maybe it's because he knows there's darker things out there, and Polaris and Jesse are the opposite of that. ]

Yeah. I wrote the story. [ He shakes his head, trying to shake off the feeling that all of this is his fault. It's all happening because of him. ] Until some point. That's the key, isn't it? It's the key, and we don't even know how long this will all go. How many turns will the story take?

[ A pause, and another shake of his head. ]

Shouldn't I know that?

[ At the sound of the given name, a familiar brush moves at the back of Alan's mind. A gentle sound can be heard. The same from the distance in the Lake, and the same soft touch from the car he had found after being released from the Lake. A touch that's rather similar to the feeling of the red head young woman's hands. ]

I don't know. The most we can do is find the pages. [ Jesse hesitantly looks back down at him. Somehow, her next question has her feeling anxious. ] Does that--did you write me into the story on purpose? Polaris?

[ « I just... I need to hear him say it. That all of THIS--us--isn't because of this crazy story. It's not happening because it was written in. That it's... I know he's said it before. But, now he remembers, and... » ]

...are we only... because of the story?

[ That brush against his mind makes him close his eyes and pause for a moment. Something about it instantly relaxes him and makes him forget about anything he's worried or stressed about. ]

I know you're right, that that's all we can do, but- [ Alan's brow furrows into a frown and he almost lets out a frustrated groan. He wishes that the path he needs to take could be clearer. Why can't the steps he needs to take be more obvious? Would that be too easy? Maybe. But he can't stop himself from wishing for it.

But then he hears Jesse's question, and his own frustrated questions grind to a halt in his mind. ]

It's not just because of the story. [ He may not be certain of very much, but he's certain of that one thing, at least. ] I wanted... I wanted you with me. Both of you.

[ Maybe it's his first time stating that so clearly, but he knew it was true even before he said it. ]

I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you. [ There's no past tense in his mind, just a future. Whatever future they can have together. ]

[ Jesse's expression softens at his statements. She doesn't manage her typical one word answer. Instead, her head ducks down, and she curls up beside him once more. Her red hair spreads out over his shoulder and around her face.

« We need to get moving soon. Especially before Barry wakes up. I definitely don't want to try and explain this to him. »

Polaris gently hums in the back of their minds. The morning light has made the sound more prominent; able to resonate better. Louder. Brighter. ]

[ They do need to get moving, but moving is the last thing Alan wants to do. I know we need to go, but I'm not ready. I don't know if I'll ever be ready. I just want to have this for a little while longer.

He hears and feels Polaris humming, and he knows it's a good idea to move while it's light out, but the lure of just staying like this is strong.

Shifting slightly, he moves in a little closer to her, pulling her in at the same time. ]

It's nice, being like this. With you.

[ Jesse curls into him the moment he shifts closer. Her forehead rests at the point his neck and shoulder meet. One hand curls around his arm and the other nestled between them. There is a warmth in her chest that she hasn't felt... in a very long time.

Her eyes drift shut. She can't fall asleep again. But, a few more minutes of resting couldn't hurt. She hasn't even heard Barry move at all downstairs. ]

Yeah. It's nice. [ She means it too. ] ... Do you have a hangover?

[ « Probably best to ask. Just in case. » ]

[ He feels as though he can't adequately put into words how this moment makes him feel, and as a writer, that's saying something. But when Jesse rests against him, he feels complete; more complete than he can say he's felt in a very long time. This is one moment he doesn't want to end, but it will end, whether they're ready for it or not. ]

It's more than nice, it's... [ He pauses, trying to think about what exactly this is, and how he can put it into words. But he decides to answer her question first. ]

... Maybe a little. [ And that's his own fault, just like it's always been. ]

[ One eye cracks open to look up at him. A smirk touches her face as he can't come up with a way to describe how it feels. Alan Wake of all people--famous writer of the Alex Casey novels. It might not need a description for the moment. Not until the insanity is over and they can leave Bright Falls. ]

Well, the place belongs to a pair of rock gods. Right? They probably have something for it downstairs.

[ A beat passes before Jesse gently squeezes him. Then, she pulls away. She sits up and slides from the bed they've taken over.

« How do we explain that we slept together in a house belonging to a pair of rock gods? Probably best if we don't tell anyone at all. » ]

I'm surprised Barry hasn't made a sound. Does he usually sleep like a log? [ She runs her hands through her hair to straighten it and then slides back into the bottom half of her underwear and jeans. ] Or is that because of the moonshine you two had?

[ Jesse turns to look at him. Hands lift to her hair to resit her ponytail. ] Do ... you think you'll go back to writing after this? I mean, writing the actual novel called "Departure."

Edited 2024-09-13 00:10 (UTC)

Rock gods don't get hangovers, or something like that. At least, that's something I could hear them saying. But I'm not a rock god, so...

[ He hopes there's something for it downstairs, otherwise he's in for a pretty bad time. At least Jesse being here makes it better. He watches as she pulls away, sitting up and then sliding from the bed. ]

Barry? Yeah, he does. All that talking that he does wears him out, you know. [ Alan smiles to show that he's kidding. Barry might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but Alan still thinks fondly of him. ] The moonshine probably just added to it.

[ His eyebrows lift slightly as her question sinks in. He always had an idea for writing stories based around the hero's journey. Just because the titles and the stories got co-opted by the Dark Presence doesn't mean he can't write the stories he wanted to. ]

I'd like to, one day. I always wanted to write, to tell stories.

[ A pause. ]

Would you read it if I wrote it?

They can say that all they want. [ Her nose scrunches. ] They still get hangovers.

[ Jesse nods. Barry seems alright, just ultimately not impressed by her because "she's a kid, Al." Though from what she heard? Barry was willing to trust Rose, who isn't much older than her.

« Which means it's because she's the mega fan of Alan Wake. Figures. »

She offers him a small smile. Something more typical of her than what someone would expect. Maybe he's more aware of that now. ]

Yeah. I would. [ She starts picking up his clothes for him. ] You'll need someone to proof read them... right?

[ Alan will see her hidden meaning. She's sure of it. She intends to stay as long as he will keep her around. ]

Maybe they don't; maybe they really take after mythical gods of rock and- Okay, yeah, they get hangovers.

[ Alan would laugh but that would just make his head hurt more, so he settles for a quick chuckle instead. ]

Really? You wouldn't just write it off as bad fiction that probably belongs in a dime store? If dime stores still existed, anyway.

[ And then his eyebrows lift in surprise, because whatever he was expecting, it wasn't that. ]

Yeah, I- Are you offering? It wouldn't be a quick job. [ He thinks he sees her hidden meaning, but he wonders if she'll see that his own is just asking for confirmation that she's willing to stay with him for the long haul. ]

Right. And, I'm not some crazy girl chasing after aliens.

[ Although she really is... isn't she?

Jesse nods to his next question. A shy look takes her eyes before darting to the side. Maybe he wouldn't consider her the best person for feedback. She might not even be qualified. Still, she's ready his books. She has even thought of reading the Alex Casey books now that she has met him. ]

I don't mind staying somewhere... if it's a place I can stay a while at.

oceanview (different path) || ❝ turn the page i need to see something new. ❞

—remember, remember.

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I lost this tag omg

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