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[nonfictional]

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[oddswerebad]

You're my second inmate, since I came here again.

I was here before, for a few years. I was sent home, without any memories. Then I came back here.

[It's his job to make an effort.]

What did you do? Before you were here.

[nonfictional]

I'm a writer. [ Still is, as far as he's concerned--and it's the correct thing to ask, if his body language is anything to go by. Alan leans forward, elbows on the table, grabbing for the coffee. ]

Thrillers, mostly. Horror, lately. [ There's a bit of an edge to that last tone. He exhales. ]

Do you mean you were here before, but don't remember anything from that time? Did you ever regain them?

[oddswerebad]

I haven’t gotten the chance to read a lot of nonfiction [which is both true and possibly the more polite way to phrase it.]

From what I’ve - heard, those types might be too close to home. [It’s a joke, but as his expression and tone don’t really change, it can be almost impossible to tell.]

I remembered everything from the last time I was here as soon as I was here again.

[nonfictional]

[ There's a wry, humourless smile at Nico's comment--he's bang on the money with that, and Alan busies himself with a sip of his coffee in order to subconsciously not fully answer that. ]

Was it hard to adjust?

[oddswerebad]

[He runs his thumb against the rim of his cup, as if he's taking a moment to think. There are a lot of little tics he's taken up to... fit.]

I, uh, wasn't... very well adjusted before. So, it was just - different.

Have you adjusted?

[nonfictional]

[ Definitely relatable. Maybe the temporary pairing isn't so bad, even if it feels like an awkward date to him. Ice breakers and all that. ]

God, no. That's probably going to be a slow process. [ He's clearly displeased with it. But he does lean forward. ]

There's something I should probably let you know. Zhao Yunlan was talking a while ago about having a contingency plan for in case things get bad, here, right?

[oddswerebad]

[He nods, growing less tentative.]

It always useful to have contingency plans. Depending on your world, the Barge can require contingencies for far stranger situations than you're used to, but you can also list them more easily.

I take it you've come up with some?

[nonfictional]

No--it's something I've just started working on. You're the first person I've told.

[ God, how the hell does he even describe this? Alan's quite for a few moments, elbows still on the table, ruminating. Brooding. Trying to work things out in his mind before he says it. ]

I'm not a danger. But if the Barge winds up anywhere near or around The Dark Place, that can change pretty quickly.

[oddswerebad]

[He’s fully focused, now. There’s still some tension, but just the chord that’s always there underneath.]

Do you know what sort of danger you would be to yourself and others if we went near - or into - this ‘the Dark Place’.

[nonfictional]

[ There has to be a better way to answer this rather than exposition. Despite this thought, Alan's alarmingly quick with what he's saying. ]

I'm not even entirely sure if the Dark Place itself will trigger it--him. I call him Mr. Scratch. He's inside me, I thought--Saga and I have put him to rest, I can't feel him any more, but just in case--

[ He presses his lips into a thin line. ]

--Your base, cruel instincts, thoughts, urges. It's what it looks like if you give into them, all of them. He tore people to shreds, he--

[ His gaze tilts back up. ]

It's bad.

[oddswerebad]

[Nico has a good idea of what base, cruel instincts, thoughts, and urges can look like. He appreciates when people make an effort to keep them in check in general - he also has no doubt it's bad.

He nods.]

Does... he have 'supernatural' abilities?

[nonfictional]

[ Alan nods. ]

There's a part of the Dark Presence in him. [ A quick correction: ] in me. Maybe. It should be gone, I can't feel him--but uh, yeah. He's darkness, shadow... Strong. Fast. He can sort of--move, like a shift or a shadowstep.

[ A quick glance over. ]

Do you know Saga Anderson?

[oddswerebad]

I've seen her.

Saga has some sort of power over it? If she's willing to use that...

If so, then the main contingencies would probably be based on whether she's out or not in a state where she could - or possibly would - deal with him.

[nonfictional]

It was a group effort. My wife, too.

[ He winces. Just thinking about this shit is bringing on a migraine, but at least he can recognize it for a tension headache and not Scratch trying to worm his way in. ]

I can tell--sometimes--when it's going to happen. If I feel him I'll send out some sort of message.

[oddswerebad]

[He nods. He's better at focusing on the practical but he manages;]

I'm sorry. I'm sure it's not - easy.

[nonfictional]

Don't-- [ Alan's jaw is set. His voice hadn't risen, but there's still an edge. One he actively tampers down. ] --Don't apologize.

[ And with a sigh, he'll lean forward and put his head in his hands. ]

Hopefully it won't even matter--you should have an easy time with me otherwise. I'm not looking to get into anything, I just want to write.

[oddswerebad]

[Any edge is enough for Nico to retreat into himself. He shrinks back when someone he knows, let alone a stranger.]

You should have free time.

[nonfictional]

Too much of it.

[ Those hands on his face slide down, as if the act of rubbing his cheeks and jaw can shake out how fucking tired he feels, far too self absorbed to pick up on the little shift. Nico looks about the same as he does: tired. And now the important, ground breaking shit is out of the way. ]

So. What about you?

[oddswerebad]

Uh. What about me?

[He's not trying to avoid the question. It's just that there's a lot of... stuff that could go under the question.]

[nonfictional]

[ Alan's voice is light, not at all upset or accusatory, just curious. ]

Considering I just admitted one of the reasons I'm probably here, I figured a bit of a background on my new warden wouldn't be out of pocket to ask for.

[ He'll lead the witness, though. Start with something simple. ]

You look about as tired as me.

cw epidemic that targeted children; not directly stated child abuse (as medicial experiment)

[oddswerebad]

[It's a simple question, but the answer goes back to the start.]

More than a decade ago... in, uh, my universe and according to my personal timeline, the United States was hit by a... disease that they call now IAAN. Out of children between the ages of eight and fourteen, only two percent survived. I believe the percentage has continued for the next group of kids who turned eight.

[He can say that much at one remove. He tugs at a loose thread on his cuff.]

The government wanted to figure out what caused the disease. I spent a lot of my life in labs.

[nonfictional]

[ Well. Alan asked. He watches the other carefully as he speaks, though it's a little hard to hide the shock on his face at everything being said.

Maybe, he thinks, Nico deserves more than a nap. But it explains the haunted look and the haggard ideals from someone that Alan still very much views as a kid, 20 or not. ]

I'm sorry.

[ What else are you supposed to say? Alan's reeling, taken aback. ]

[oddswerebad]

[Nico wraps his hands around his now cool cup again. His words are almost neutral, because how could he capture it all in tone. He lived through it, and he saw the people who didn't. He knows what was done to the kids that lived.

He half-shrugs.]

Now you have one of the reasons I'm here.

[He doesn't think it's a fair exchange to have put this on Alan, but Nico's not sure he could answer the smaller question without the wider context.]

[nonfictional]

[ He can venture a guess, and so he does: ]

Part of your deal with the warden to fix it?

[oddswerebad]

[He nods.]

I want to bring them back.

[It's a lot more complicated than that in practice, but that's the driving force.]