[ Scratch can't use words because he isn't a creator, right? That's why he has to rely on smooth talking and charm that is some idea of what Alan must be like. He can't think of words to win her over because everything is about him. Self-centered, an all consuming ego, and thinking he's earned and deserving of the whole world. They're traits that would have driven her away if they truly belonged to Alan Wake. Jesse knows that Alan may have put up a front like it for the media, but he's far from any of those things. He's a man who always wanted to writes and had his own personal demons. Demons that now an extra-dimensional entity is making its play toys to break him.
Honestly? The whole thing is just disgusting.
He tugs her from the light. She would fight it if not for the fact she has to keep Scratch busy as long as she can. His mouth--Alan's mouth--is on hers in an instant. Jesse's eyes widen and she feels so many different things all at once that it's almost overwhelming. The sensation that it's wrong is what reacts first, but then followed by Polaris's immediate surge of power. Trying to push the hostile entity away. Block him out. Become louder than the dark.
Then, something else.
She knows it's not there. But, her mind feels as if water has pooled at her ankles. It takes only half a second more for her mind to realize what that sensation must mean. The feeling of the Dark Presence--Scratch--trying to overwhelm her and literally drown out Polaris. If she had been an ordinary person, then it would have swept her away in a moment. Unfortunately for Scratch, his and Alan's eyes have laid on a very powerful parautalitarian.
It takes a tremendous amount of energy, which she has barely recovered, to shove the waves out of her mind. Find what she can in her with Polaris to block the waves from entering. She can still feel as if the bottoms of her feet are wet and knows she needs to get into the light quickly before he tries to overwhelm her again.
Jesse moves quickly.
The hand he doesn't hold bunches into the white shirt beneath the blood stained flannel. She takes those steps back into the light, dragging Scratch with her. Feet firmly plant in the light from the desk in the entry hall outlines her shape. She can feel Polaris already resonating.
« Just, stick with me, okay? »
She pulls away from his kiss just enough to raise her eyes to his. Green eyes that glow with an otherwordly light compared to the gray eyes that move with a dark current. Two opposite frequencies. It's almost ironic, given what happened to Dylan with the Hiss. ]
No. [ Her lips almost brush against his as she speaks. ] You don't get to drown me out to make me better. That's not how any of this works.
[ She pulls her hand from Scratch's. Then, both raise to either side of his face to keep him where he's at. God, she hopes she sells this as much as she's trying to. ] I'll show you how this is going to work. Or, it's not going to work at all.
[ Then, she pulls him into another kiss. That sense of wrongness fills her again. Jesse can tell it's not Alan simply by how it feels. There's no rhythm that seems to synchronize with hers. There's no adoration in the motion, but instead a sense of power. Some sort of twisted form of love instead of the actual emotion she knows the Writer has. Still, she keeps the motions up.
If Polaris could blow out her ear drums, she's certain that her friend would. The guide still presses back against any darkness that might try to leak in. However, it seems she's letting her host play along for now.
The hand Alan holds onto seems to clamp around his wrist. Fingers press into his pulse as that ripple of urgency comes through the resonance. Urgency, danger, emergency. Battle. Fear even, communicated through that frequency that is trying to attune to the Writer and keep him afloat.
The voice that is something borrowed from Jesse's of lighter tones sounds far more like the host of the resonance. Panicked. Scared. ]
no subject
[ Scratch can't use words because he isn't a creator, right? That's why he has to rely on smooth talking and charm that is some idea of what Alan must be like. He can't think of words to win her over because everything is about him. Self-centered, an all consuming ego, and thinking he's earned and deserving of the whole world. They're traits that would have driven her away if they truly belonged to Alan Wake. Jesse knows that Alan may have put up a front like it for the media, but he's far from any of those things. He's a man who always wanted to writes and had his own personal demons. Demons that now an extra-dimensional entity is making its play toys to break him.
Honestly? The whole thing is just disgusting.
He tugs her from the light. She would fight it if not for the fact she has to keep Scratch busy as long as she can. His mouth--Alan's mouth--is on hers in an instant. Jesse's eyes widen and she feels so many different things all at once that it's almost overwhelming. The sensation that it's wrong is what reacts first, but then followed by Polaris's immediate surge of power. Trying to push the hostile entity away. Block him out. Become louder than the dark.
Then, something else.
She knows it's not there. But, her mind feels as if water has pooled at her ankles. It takes only half a second more for her mind to realize what that sensation must mean. The feeling of the Dark Presence--Scratch--trying to overwhelm her and literally drown out Polaris. If she had been an ordinary person, then it would have swept her away in a moment. Unfortunately for Scratch, his and Alan's eyes have laid on a very powerful parautalitarian.
It takes a tremendous amount of energy, which she has barely recovered, to shove the waves out of her mind. Find what she can in her with Polaris to block the waves from entering. She can still feel as if the bottoms of her feet are wet and knows she needs to get into the light quickly before he tries to overwhelm her again.
Jesse moves quickly.
The hand he doesn't hold bunches into the white shirt beneath the blood stained flannel. She takes those steps back into the light, dragging Scratch with her. Feet firmly plant in the light from the desk in the entry hall outlines her shape. She can feel Polaris already resonating.
« Just, stick with me, okay? »
She pulls away from his kiss just enough to raise her eyes to his. Green eyes that glow with an otherwordly light compared to the gray eyes that move with a dark current. Two opposite frequencies. It's almost ironic, given what happened to Dylan with the Hiss. ]
No. [ Her lips almost brush against his as she speaks. ] You don't get to drown me out to make me better. That's not how any of this works.
[ She pulls her hand from Scratch's. Then, both raise to either side of his face to keep him where he's at. God, she hopes she sells this as much as she's trying to. ] I'll show you how this is going to work. Or, it's not going to work at all.
[ Then, she pulls him into another kiss. That sense of wrongness fills her again. Jesse can tell it's not Alan simply by how it feels. There's no rhythm that seems to synchronize with hers. There's no adoration in the motion, but instead a sense of power. Some sort of twisted form of love instead of the actual emotion she knows the Writer has. Still, she keeps the motions up.
If Polaris could blow out her ear drums, she's certain that her friend would. The guide still presses back against any darkness that might try to leak in. However, it seems she's letting her host play along for now.
The hand Alan holds onto seems to clamp around his wrist. Fingers press into his pulse as that ripple of urgency comes through the resonance. Urgency, danger, emergency. Battle. Fear even, communicated through that frequency that is trying to attune to the Writer and keep him afloat.
The voice that is something borrowed from Jesse's of lighter tones sounds far more like the host of the resonance. Panicked. Scared. ]
｟ Alan! ｠