singillatim | ( open ) i'm with the regulars

Who: Scratch and OPEN.
What: Settling in.
When: Early May.
Where: Around Milton (Basin Overlook, the actual basin, community hall...), primarily in evenings.

Content Warnings: None intended, but really that could change and will be updated if it does.

For a guy who's used to the idea of travelling between realities, the whole Ending Up In Some Winter Wilderness isn't too jarring for Scratch. What's jarring is that all he remembers before getting here was a too-bright light and the feeling of what he can only describe as pain or discomfort. And, yes, his self-appointed nemesis was there too, which has Scratch almost entirely convinced that said nemesis is behind this. He's also determined that he's stuck here. At least, for now. Despite his best efforts he can't slip his way back into the Dark Place he comes from, which is very upsetting, so he'll bide his time by playing along with everyone else here.

In his first few days, Scratch takes the time to get familiar with Milton, mostly venturing out in the evenings. The sun isn't exactly his friend, and he hasn't gotten used to the idea that he won't cause him harm just yet. The home he chose for himself had a heavy plaid (gross) jacket inside to be insulated against the weather, which he wears with great reluctance. Too bad this hick town doesn't seem like the sort where anyone was wearing obnoxiously overpriced designer parkas, but he's going to keep his eyes out. Just in case. Until then, the plaid will do, keeping out the bite of the cold as he gets a lay of the land. One of his early stops is the community hall. He recalls it from his initial arrival, when it'd been filled with warmth and a disturbingly welcoming feast, considering the circumstances. He takes the time to survey the message board before leaving a note of his own. He'll take the time to make small talk with anyone who might also be around.

If anything, the homey apparel makes it easier to get into character.

Should someone be interested in answering his query, he can indeed be found spending much of his time at his chosen home on Basin Overlook. Like everything else, it's far below his standards, but he's drawn to the multiple wood burners. He doesn't bother tidying up outside. The ground is too frozen to tend the dead garden, and keeping things alive is sort of the opposite of his schtick. Inside, though, he's content enough to clean the place up. The cottage may be beneath him, but that doesn't mean he has to live in squalor. Others living on the street, or even those passing by, may notice the soft light of fires burning in the windows and are welcome to come by and knock. Or maybe you're fortunate enough to catch him chopping wood for them, which is actually very enjoyable to him. He seems to know his way around an axe.

Beyond the town itself, Scratch spends a day or two down and around the basin itself. There's a purpose to his visits, his keen eyes open as he looks for anything familia. He'd even take a sense of déjà vu, knowing that his writer counterpart leans heavily on motifs and recurring themes these days. He finds nothing of the sort. What he does find, however, is a pleasant surprise. As he walks through the snow along the edge of the basin one evening as the sun is just setting, his foot crunches on something. A quick look has him pulling up a photograph, in a now-broken frame, of an averagely pretty blonde woman with an averagely nice smile.

"Well, I'll be," he says to himself. Judging by the look on his face, someone nearby might assume he's just found something very delightful indeed.

While he spends the majority of his first few days in these places, he does his best to take in the whole of Milton. Those going about their own business will likely see him making his way around and are welcome to bump into him.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's nice, honestly. Things at the Bureau were always so stressful, and he kept his concentration on his work, so any workplace flirtation that came his way went over his head. As such, he hasn't really done this sort of thing since grad school, maybe. Forced-casual conversations at parties while he bit back the urge to launch into a lecture about theoretical mathematics.

Besides which, Alan is intriguing. Darling is dying to know if he really is the powerful parautilitarian his files make him out to be. Or -- was, perhaps. He's not certain if those powers would extend to this place, or not. But he's not certain quite how to approach the subject. I read your file isn't the best ice breaker.

"The building where I worked was always freezing. Heated tiles sound luxurious, honestly. But, well -- you're from Washington, right? I guess that sort of thing is necessary, in the winter."

"New York, actually," he admits, as if it's sort of embarrassing to need heated tiles in New York. But then again, Scratch knows Alan's a loser. Still, he gives a wince and then laughs at his own expense.

Though he supposes, technically the body that he exists in was created there in Washington, in that stupid lake everyone's so obsessed with.

"Washington is ... Sort of where my life derailed a bit."

"Ah! Right, yes. Apologies. We don't have to go into that," he hurries to assure him, reaching out to touch Alan's elbow with a small, slightly nervous smile. Hoping he hasn't scared off a potential friend with his slip-up.

"I was situated in New York too, actually. Well, New Jersey, originally, but moved to the city for college and ended up staying for work. So I know all about those chilly winters, at least.

I was going to grab some coffee, would you want to join me?"

Scratch could pinch Darling's cheeks, he's just so simple.

"Coffee sounds great."

He uncrosses his legs, and as he stands, he places his hand on Darling's shoulder. A reassuring touch in response to Darling's nervous one.

"It'll give us both some much needed warmth, huh?"

"Oh absolutely, yes. I finally invested in a proper coat, but this place sort of puts a chill in you at the DNA level, doesn't it?"

The touches are nice, especially after two years with no physical contact. Well, until Tom, but he hasn't run into Tom Zane since arriving here. Which is a pity, he'd seemed very interesting. And enthusiastic.

In the kitchen area, Darling pours a cup of coffee for Alan, and takes one for himself, as well. "Surprisingly, the coffee here is better than whatever motor oil someone managed to brew in the break room at my office."

This will probably get tedious eventually, but for now, Scratch can play along with these little flirty touches and easy back and forth. Maybe later he'll go chop some wood at his cabin and imagine it's Doctor Casper Darling.

"The couple who had my place before me seemed like real outdoorsy types, so I have this." Scratch plucks at his heavy plaid jacket. "I can't say I like it, but it keeps the chill out. I get what you mean though, about the way it sits in your bones."

He toasts his coffee to Darling and takes a drink.

"I'm sorry your office sounds like shit honestly."

He lets out a laugh at that, the nervous tic with his ear returning. Something about the way Alan watches him makes him feel unsettled in a way he can't really place. Those blue eyes, maybe. It makes his gaze feel like a physical weight.

"Well, isn't that sort of standard for an office? Either boiling or freezing, bad coffee. A vending machine that only works half the time."

"I really wouldn't know. Doesn't sound much different than a writers' room, though."

He's famous author Alan Wake, no office required

"Well! You have heated tiles and can probably choose what sort of coffee you want, at least. There was a period where one of my colleagues tried to foist flavoured coffee on all of us. Memos were sent, heated discussions were had.

Office drama," he laughs, wiggling his fingers dramatically.

"Mm, you'll have to tell me all about it some day," he says, letting an easy smile cross his features as he leans in a bit.

It's teasing and it's flirtatious and it's all a means to an end. Darling made it too easy.

"There's a questionable can of coffee in my cabin we can crack open."

Darling touches his tongue to his lips, glancing over at Alan. Trying to decide his next steps. There's research to be done, and now is not the time to get tangled up in things. But it's new, and novel, and sort of fun.

"That's the second time you've mentioned some rather enticing things being at your cabin."

"You're keeping count."

He looks like he finds it amusing, endearing almost, but the truth is he doesn't. It's actually annoying, and, really, what else is there to do in this place? Might as well pass the time doing something actually fun and actually warm.

"I'd mention more but why give it all away?"

"I like to follow patterns." He rubs at the back of his neck, feeling almost uncomfortably warm for the first time since arriving here. He could say no. Or continue to demure, to see of Alan presses the matter or lets it go.

Or he could give into the need for companionship, for once in his life.

"Is it a far walk?"

That makes him smile, and there's no denying that there's something predatory in it.

"Not at all. Just up the road, about two and half blocks. It's worth the chilly five minutes, I promise."

There's something a little sharp about Alan's smile. Maybe it's that glint of canine that Darling just manages to catch.

"Then... if you lead, I will follow," he offers, with a smile of his own.

Like a lamb to the slaughter.

Scratch toasts his coffee and drinks down most of it. Honestly, he's pleasantly surprised, he didn't take Darling to be quite so bold. It's fun. Zipping up his awful-but-warm plaid jacket, he saunters his way out of the community centre, looking back to make sure that Darling's following.

"I had the stove going before I came over here, it should still be a bit warm inside."

Darling takes up his jacket where he'd set it on a chair earlier, shrugging into it and zipping it up to his chin. He'll have to see about a hat, next, but for now he tucks his hands into his pockets, shoulders up around his ears.

"Excellent foresight. I suppose it's too much to hope that it might turn to spring soon, hm?"

Scratch snorts a bit. Spring. As if.

"I don't get the feeling this place cares about seasons. I wouldn't get my hopes up for tulips and cherry blossoms if I were you."

( open ) i'm with the regulars

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