Alan nods again before starts to double back a bit to the opening he saw, trusting Nana completely if those puppets get a little close. She'll clear the way--she's damn good at that, apparently.
He turns a left suddenly, sharply, and nearly beefing it as he does so because he's also simultaneously pulling out the lamp he keeps on him at all times. It usually sticks out of his bag for easy access, but his dress shoes don't quite work on the rusted, hellish floors and he can't quite coordinate himself properly.
"Shit--"
Managing to maintain his balance, he continues to run towards what looks like a chain link fence. Beyond it, a flickering light bulb.
One of them does get a little close, and Nana cuts it down in the process. Annoyingly, a few of them seem to be putting themselves back together: the puppet body stumbling around until it's hands brush against a head, which it plops right back on the neck peg.
All the while, Nana follows Alan, keeping close behind him, entirely focused on keeping him safe. She's able to see that he's pulling out a lamp (okay? sure?) but isn't going to let herself have the opportunity to get a good look at it. Whatever he's doing, she can ask more questions when they're safe.
Alan flinches considerably when one gets close, but he holds the lamp aloft, able to feel the light and its' magnetic pull. He doesn't hesitate, flicking it on.
The light in the lamp transfers to the bulb behind the chain link fence with a flicker: it's in the lamp and then it isn't, simple as that, but a loud, strangely comforting clicking sound follows. The chain link fence has turned into a solid wall with a door in it, brilliant, bright light peaking through.
Alan opens it without hesitation, leading Nana into what can only be described as a break room. The metal and rust is still there, the atmosphere unchanged save for graffiti - the words and phrases find alice, don't write, scratch, return, cult of the word are littered throughout the small room. A small table below the light hold a familiar thermos, a box of donuts, a radio, a plastic cooler and a shoebox, all are illuminated.
Alan looks visibly relieved as he slams the door shut.
"Normally it's just more terrain, not a safe haven," he breathes out, and then at Nana, and can't help but smiling.
Nana doesn't really know what happened. The light made it so the fence turned into a wall? Was the light doing that, or was it whatever was happening? She doesn't know. She doesn't even know how to ask. What matters is that Alan is used to this so she should be also. And Alan is relieved by this, so she is also.
And Alan called her a lucky charm so she can't help but give him an honest, relieved little smile.
"Hehe, I don't think I actually did anything? But I'll take that compliment anyway. It's bananice!" said as she lightly bounces one of her pigtails. So hey, she can take the moment to at least ask,
Alan wants to ask, decides not to, half because he doesn't want her to be self conscious and half because he has a feeling it falls squarely into the 'adorable teenage girl' category she often falls into.
They can catch their breath. Just for a while. That's what matters.
"Still trapped," he says it before she can assume. "Uh, the lamp I've got is...." How to explain this?
"Magic, I guess. I can use it to light a light, and it nudges reality to give me a different set piece." He holds it up, handing it to her if she wants to further examine the art-deco artistry of it all.
"I've been mostly using it to run and hope a fence or something appears."
"The stage is reacting to your desires," Nana muses. But that can't be right. They're not on a stage... are they?
Nana thinks to the Barge. A morality play with an ever changing cast of characters, actions and motives and choices made by their director. Of course they're on a stage. She never left.
Nana looks over to Alan and, as if she's totally used to all this, she asks, "How long can we stay in here?"
"Exactly. I'm writing the story." Different mediums, same results. Nana gets him on a level Alan finds both comforting and a little disturbing at times.
"It's--it's enough that we can wait for them to go away. I don't know about you, but I'd really like to keep looking for a way out. I'm done with this shit."
"Then let's keep looking," Nana says, with zero hesitation. "Because I don't want to deal with this as well. The sooner we get done with this, the better."
Alan straightens, thinks about one of those donuts, realizes he's never actually eaten any, and makes what's probably the correct decision of not trying.
"Has anyone told you you are scarily good with a sword?"
Nana can't help but give Alan a little smile as she muses,
"Nope! Not that many people know about it. The reason I'm good with a sword is because of the revue. You've gotta be good at fighting, you've gotta let your desires shine through if you want to win."
And Nana, who's looped time dozens of times by now, has won a lot.
"I don't think anybody would have known about it if things didn't get so weird. It's...not something that I was planning on telling people."
There's a lot of things she doesn't plan on telling people. Alan's the only person who knows about the revue and as far as Nana is concerned, it's going to stay that way. She doesn't want anybody to think too hard about her, to wonder why she's good with a sword. Maybe she can just...Nana doesn't know, find a way to explain it away.
Teenage high school cage match, now with katanas and time loops. He's well aware that his own experiences are odd, but Nana is truly taking the cake here. Alan genuinely doesn't known what to say for a few seconds, so he welcomes the small beat of silence that accompanies this.
"I'm glad you told me." He genuinely is. It means Nana trusts him, which means Nana trusts someone, even if it's the wrong person. Maybe one day he'll open up to her about some of the shit he's done, too, but he's aware of her age and would much rather not.
It's not being a hypocrite. It's justifiable. This time.
"Now I know who to go to if shit hits the fan. Come on--let's try to get out of here."
"Of course." Nana stretches slightly, rolling out her shoulders, before fixing her face into a calm stare. She's an actress. She's playing the part of someone who can keep Alan safe. She's got this.
Nana gives Alan a small little smile before admitting, "Daiba Nana is scared out of her mind right now. But a seasoned hero, a deadly assassin, someone used to all sorts of combat...they'd be able to face this."
It's just acting. This is all fake. The Barge is all fake. She's got to keep telling herself this otherwise she'll puke with fear.
Nana, he thinks, gets Alan more than anyone on the ship. And if she's doing it...
" 'I pushed forward in the darkness, not knowing where it would lead, but knowing where I had to go. Between Banana's battle prowess and the lamp Zane had given me, I was filled with confidence. We were a stage girl and the champion of light. I knew we could make it. We had to.' "
It sounds silly out loud and not on paper. But it does help. He raises the lamp, looks at Nana, nods, and takes the light out. The dark, dim hallway is back, but they're on the otherside of the fence with a clear way forward.
Nana's eyes light up a bit as she hears the narration. Because it does make sense. It makes a lot of sense, and it revitalizes Nana in a way she finds hard to explain.
She holds her sword, clenching it tighter, as she also narrates, " 'Banana's grip tightened on the sword as she followed me onwards. She took the way and I could see the confidence start to settle in her face. It was obvious my words were inspiring her.' "
He starts moving, the thrill of whatever that was rattling his bones in a very pleasant way. There's vulnerability in speaking this shit aloud, a strange sort of magic in and out of itself. He's king of inner narration, but to share that in a way that's not in a manuscript? He's surprised it went over well.
Then again, they know each other. Maybe not fully, but there's a strange level of understanding between them that Alan hasn't found anywhere else. He begins to move.
"I told you how I was trapped before this, right?"
"A bit," Nana answers, sword at the ready, keeping up with Alan's pace. She's scanning the area, focused on their surroundings, ready and willing to cut something down should it get in the way. She's got this. She can keep Alan safe.
"But I wouldn't mind hearing more details. I know I inevitably forgot something."
"I was stuck in something I thought was a loop. Like the one you created, sort of."
A left. Alan halts, thinking he's heard a name--a low growl, a scratching noise--but decides to continue forward, dropping his voice. Straight until he takes a right turn.
"I found out it was more of a spiral. Descending towards ascension, that sort of thing." That probably makes no sense. Alan quickly continues: "The main thing that pushed me forward was that I didn't want to be alone anymore."
"13 years is a very long time to be stuck in a loop, Banana."
It's phrased gently, quietly, but with the full knowledge that that's what the other wished for. For it to never end for her, to repeat it over, and over, and over.
It's only a long time to be stuck in a loop if you weren't the one who made the loop in the first place. Nana could easily see herself looping as long as she could.
"But you got out in the end. That's what matters the most, right?"
Did he get out? There's a possibility he's still there. There's a lot of things back home he doesn't know, not fully--he thinks he's there. He knows. Alice has told him, Saga has shot him.
He shakes his head. Another turn, and a familiar door--his own, a gray door with a familiar spiral painted on it--and his face brightens.
"I think this is it."
He doesn't actually answer Nana. Isn't sure of the answer himself. The exit is a welcome distraction.
Oh that is saying a lot of things without saying anything at all. Alan didn't get out. Or at least, Alan isn't sure he got out. It's different being stuck in a loop when you're aware of it.
Idly, Nana wonders what she can do to make sure he's out of it. Not much, probably. After all, she's an inmate. But Nana knows she'll know more about the loop that Alan's stuck in than anyone here. Something's got to be causing it. And if something's causing it, that cause can be broken. It can be shifted. If she figures out what it is, she can break it herself.
Alan's her friend. And Nana keeps her friends safe no matter what.
"I'll open the door," Nana says, with absolute confidence. "That way if something comes for us, I'll be able to react."
And she walks towards the door, hesitating for only the slightest moment, before pulling it open.
Nana opens it, a familiar writer's room greeting them: an attic. Artificial lights. A desk with a typewriter, a black board with a plot board and chalk writing covering it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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He turns a left suddenly, sharply, and nearly beefing it as he does so because he's also simultaneously pulling out the lamp he keeps on him at all times. It usually sticks out of his bag for easy access, but his dress shoes don't quite work on the rusted, hellish floors and he can't quite coordinate himself properly.
"Shit--"
Managing to maintain his balance, he continues to run towards what looks like a chain link fence. Beyond it, a flickering light bulb.
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All the while, Nana follows Alan, keeping close behind him, entirely focused on keeping him safe. She's able to see that he's pulling out a lamp (okay? sure?) but isn't going to let herself have the opportunity to get a good look at it. Whatever he's doing, she can ask more questions when they're safe.
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The light in the lamp transfers to the bulb behind the chain link fence with a flicker: it's in the lamp and then it isn't, simple as that, but a loud, strangely comforting clicking sound follows. The chain link fence has turned into a solid wall with a door in it, brilliant, bright light peaking through.
Alan opens it without hesitation, leading Nana into what can only be described as a break room. The metal and rust is still there, the atmosphere unchanged save for graffiti - the words and phrases find alice, don't write, scratch, return, cult of the word are littered throughout the small room. A small table below the light hold a familiar thermos, a box of donuts, a radio, a plastic cooler and a shoebox, all are illuminated.
Alan looks visibly relieved as he slams the door shut.
"Normally it's just more terrain, not a safe haven," he breathes out, and then at Nana, and can't help but smiling.
"Banana, you might be my lucky charm."
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And Alan called her a lucky charm so she can't help but give him an honest, relieved little smile.
"Hehe, I don't think I actually did anything? But I'll take that compliment anyway. It's bananice!" said as she lightly bounces one of her pigtails. So hey, she can take the moment to at least ask,
"Where are we, anyway?"
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Alan wants to ask, decides not to, half because he doesn't want her to be self conscious and half because he has a feeling it falls squarely into the 'adorable teenage girl' category she often falls into.
They can catch their breath. Just for a while. That's what matters.
"Still trapped," he says it before she can assume. "Uh, the lamp I've got is...." How to explain this?
"Magic, I guess. I can use it to light a light, and it nudges reality to give me a different set piece." He holds it up, handing it to her if she wants to further examine the art-deco artistry of it all.
"I've been mostly using it to run and hope a fence or something appears."
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Nana thinks to the Barge. A morality play with an ever changing cast of characters, actions and motives and choices made by their director. Of course they're on a stage. She never left.
Nana looks over to Alan and, as if she's totally used to all this, she asks, "How long can we stay in here?"
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"It's--it's enough that we can wait for them to go away. I don't know about you, but I'd really like to keep looking for a way out. I'm done with this shit."
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Alan straightens, thinks about one of those donuts, realizes he's never actually eaten any, and makes what's probably the correct decision of not trying.
"Has anyone told you you are scarily good with a sword?"
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"Nope! Not that many people know about it. The reason I'm good with a sword is because of the revue. You've gotta be good at fighting, you've gotta let your desires shine through if you want to win."
And Nana, who's looped time dozens of times by now, has won a lot.
"I don't think anybody would have known about it if things didn't get so weird. It's...not something that I was planning on telling people."
There's a lot of things she doesn't plan on telling people. Alan's the only person who knows about the revue and as far as Nana is concerned, it's going to stay that way. She doesn't want anybody to think too hard about her, to wonder why she's good with a sword. Maybe she can just...Nana doesn't know, find a way to explain it away.
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"I'm glad you told me." He genuinely is. It means Nana trusts him, which means Nana trusts someone, even if it's the wrong person. Maybe one day he'll open up to her about some of the shit he's done, too, but he's aware of her age and would much rather not.
It's not being a hypocrite. It's justifiable. This time.
"Now I know who to go to if shit hits the fan. Come on--let's try to get out of here."
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"Tell me what to do next and I'll lead the way."
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"You need your character's motivation?"
He's not teasing her. He's actually sort of serious.
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Nana gives Alan a small little smile before admitting, "Daiba Nana is scared out of her mind right now. But a seasoned hero, a deadly assassin, someone used to all sorts of combat...they'd be able to face this."
It's just acting. This is all fake. The Barge is all fake. She's got to keep telling herself this otherwise she'll puke with fear.
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" 'I pushed forward in the darkness, not knowing where it would lead, but knowing where I had to go. Between Banana's battle prowess and the lamp Zane had given me, I was filled with confidence. We were a stage girl and the champion of light. I knew we could make it. We had to.' "
It sounds silly out loud and not on paper. But it does help. He raises the lamp, looks at Nana, nods, and takes the light out. The dark, dim hallway is back, but they're on the otherside of the fence with a clear way forward.
He starts moving.
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She holds her sword, clenching it tighter, as she also narrates, " 'Banana's grip tightened on the sword as she followed me onwards. She took the way and I could see the confidence start to settle in her face. It was obvious my words were inspiring her.' "
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He starts moving, the thrill of whatever that was rattling his bones in a very pleasant way. There's vulnerability in speaking this shit aloud, a strange sort of magic in and out of itself. He's king of inner narration, but to share that in a way that's not in a manuscript? He's surprised it went over well.
Then again, they know each other. Maybe not fully, but there's a strange level of understanding between them that Alan hasn't found anywhere else. He begins to move.
"I told you how I was trapped before this, right?"
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"But I wouldn't mind hearing more details. I know I inevitably forgot something."
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A left. Alan halts, thinking he's heard a name--a low growl, a scratching noise--but decides to continue forward, dropping his voice. Straight until he takes a right turn.
"I found out it was more of a spiral. Descending towards ascension, that sort of thing." That probably makes no sense. Alan quickly continues: "The main thing that pushed me forward was that I didn't want to be alone anymore."
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Said with a hundred percent seriousness. Nana is petrified of just that, of solitude.
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It's phrased gently, quietly, but with the full knowledge that that's what the other wished for. For it to never end for her, to repeat it over, and over, and over.
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"But you got out in the end. That's what matters the most, right?"
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He shakes his head. Another turn, and a familiar door--his own, a gray door with a familiar spiral painted on it--and his face brightens.
"I think this is it."
He doesn't actually answer Nana. Isn't sure of the answer himself. The exit is a welcome distraction.
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Idly, Nana wonders what she can do to make sure he's out of it. Not much, probably. After all, she's an inmate. But Nana knows she'll know more about the loop that Alan's stuck in than anyone here. Something's got to be causing it. And if something's causing it, that cause can be broken. It can be shifted. If she figures out what it is, she can break it herself.
Alan's her friend. And Nana keeps her friends safe no matter what.
"I'll open the door," Nana says, with absolute confidence. "That way if something comes for us, I'll be able to react."
And she walks towards the door, hesitating for only the slightest moment, before pulling it open.
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Alan's cabin.
The writer breathes a sigh of relief.
"We're in the clear."
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