readytosee | closed rp post

"Oh!" Darling jumps a little, startled at the voice suddenly beside him. Perhaps he'd been concentrating too hard on the lake, on his thoughts, and didn't hear the man approach him. He's bundled against the weather, as well, wishing he'd brought a hat with him. Perhaps a scarf.

"Apologies, I was... woolgathering. Who knows, really. I'm sure the world speaks to us in ways we're not able to understand, but we can keep trying, anyway. Sorry, um. I'm not on your property, am I?"

Scratch allows himself a brief moment to smile, pleased at the spooked reaction for a brief moment before he lets his expression school back into something more neutral.

"Not mine, no. I don't think anyone wants the burden of owning it."

He glances at the man, raises his eyebrows a bit.

"Most people are too scared to come this way once the sun starts setting. Apparently all sorts of things lurk around here."

He finally turns to face the man next to him, and it gives him pause. He hasn't seen a lot of Alan Wake, that's true. Photos in his file at the FBC, headshots on the back of his novels. The odd interview he'd skimmed through to see if Alan showed any hints of the sort of power he exhibited, but nothing he'd come across had given him any answers.

He'd never seen the man in person, of course. However.

"Um, sorry," he stammers, rubbing at his ear a little. A nervous tic. "Thought for a moment I'd seen a ghost."

The smile returns to his face, something almost sinister behind it if anyone cared to look too close. Perhaps it's just the way the setting sun is casting shadows or the overall eeriness of the place and the smile is perfectly normal.

"Maybe you have."

It's enough to tell Scratch that the man is familiar with Alan Wake. He gets the feeling there's no pretending here. He could, certainly, it'd be easy to spin the appropriate story, but eventually it would get fussy. Why, if he's Alan, would he still be here and why would he not let people know he's alive?

"Like I said, strange things in these parts." He slips a hand free from his pocket, holding it out in a gesture of greeting. "I'd introduce myself but my name is ... Incomprehensible to human ears."

"Well that's certainly an intriguing introduction." He takes the man's (?? possibly a man) hand in both of his, clasping it firmly with a warm smile. "Dr. Casper Darling.

Is there something I should call you, then? Something I'm able to pronounce, hopefully."

There's a sharpness to that smile. Or maybe it's the hint of pointed canine that comes with it, the icy blue gaze staring back at him. But rather than put off, Darling finds himself curious.

"No, you're not a ghost. I've seen ghosts. But you are... something."

Well, Casper Darling is enthusiastic, to say the least. But Scratch isn't put off, at least not yet. It's quite nice to have someone excited to meet him, the real him.

The smile stays on his face.

"They tend to just call me Scratch. What are you a doctor of, Casper Darling?"

"Scratch it is, then." After the hand shake, his hands go back in his pockets to try and warm them a little.

"Oh -- goodness, of quite a few things. I have degrees in a few branches of physics -- theoretical and otherwise. But my fields of study primarily rest in alternate realities, paranatural abilities, and thoughtform entities. Which is why I'm here, actually. Strange things lurking, as you said."

That explains the interest in Cauldron Lake. Scratch looks back over the water, growing darker by the minute.

"Most people that come looking for the strange things don't ever make it back."

In most cases, that would be a threat, but there's something in Scratch's voice that suggests he won't let that be the case with Darling. After all, Scratch controls the strange things. But the other humans that come through here, well. No promises there.

"Are you here on personal interest or professional?"

It's certainly interesting -- and convenient, really -- that this being seems willing to let him hang around. To explore a little. He'll have to tread carefully, of course, and keep his wits about him, but it's good to have someone (something?) on his side.

"A little of both, I suppose. I learned about this place through work, at first. But I'm not here in any sort of official capacity. No, this is just for me."

Good. Scratch hates when all sorts of feds come poking around.

"A nice little holiday that you can conveniently write off as a work expense, hmm?"

It's fine, he won't judge. He takes huge advantage of his fake position as Alan Wake. In face, he encourages such opportunistic behaviour.

"What was your plan after asking the lake to talk to you?"

"It's work adjacent." Which it's not, not really, but this Scratch fellow doesn't really seem too bothered by it, either way.

Darling hums thoughtfully, looking out at the mist settling on the surface of the lake. "I'm not sure. If I'm honest, I'm not entirely sure what it is I'm looking for. I have dozens of datapoints and no real direction."

Scratch walks up to the water, the slight waves almost touching the toes of his shoes as he crouches down to let the water lap at his fingers. He understands the powers of the lake. Given the integral role the lake had in his own creation, he knows first hand just how mysterious (and dangerous) it can be. But it's just water in his hands as he stands up again.

"You could always stand there until it decides to reach out and drag you under."

"Well if it did, it might answer a few questions I have." The wind is picking up, and Darling hunches his shoulders a little against it. It feels harsher out here, somehow. Which would make sense, without hundreds of skyscrapers to diffuse it.

"If it's not too impolite to ask, how long have you been here, Scratch?"

"How long has it been since Alan Wake went missing?"

Scratch doesn't really pay attention to the passing of time. He doesn't really need to, honestly.

"I assume you know who I'm talking about."

"Ah!" The scientist ducks his head with a laugh. He wasn't expecting to get to the point quite so quickly or directly, but here they are.

"Nine years. Or thereabouts. I assume you're connected to that event, in some way. If not to his disappearance, then to him." Given the resemblance and the rather blunt line of questioning, it seems unlikely that he isn't.

"Nine years," Scratch repeats, more to himself than anything else as he gazes over the lake.

Nine years of Alan Wake running around helplessly in the Dark Place, nine years of Scratch waiting for Alan to do something to set the Dark Presence free at last.

Time flies when you're having fun.

He's not going to tell everything to Darling. That would be stupid, for one thing, but it's also boring to just give it all up so soon.

"Something like that. It's getting cold out, don't you think?"

He doesn't know where Alan is, only that somehow, whatever plane of existence he might be on currently, he was able to reach out and create the Hiss within the Oldest House. And that is fascinating. Such things are practically unheard of, outside of Northmore. Outside of what Dylan had been capable of.

But best not to ruminate on the past. He's here to discover new things. Things like Scratch, perhaps.

"It is, at that. I'd ask if you were staying nearby, but I don't know that you need to stay anywhere. Do you? Do you feel the cold, does it bother you? Do you need warmth?"

"No, I don't generally stay places."

Particularly here, where Alan is so prevalent. Though the idea always was to take over as the writer, and maybe one day he'll stage his own triumphant return. For now, though, it's more fun to toy with people. He loves especially teasing Alice Wake, and leaving useless 'coded' messages for that diner waitress.

But when it's all said and done, Scratch can slip back to the Dark Place.

He turns on his heels, walking away from the lake. That ridiculous fake cult will be out roaming the woods soon.

"My body functions the same way as any other human body does."

closed rp post

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