Closed - Everybody wants to get evil tonight

[tolduimapsycho]

Who: Scratch and Zoey
Where: The Streets and Alleys of Haven
When: Late night, June 27th
What: Scratch is drunk and disconnected and looking for someone to blame.

CW: Aggression, stalking, drunkenness, violence, depersonalization. Will add as needed, Mister Scratch is a mess.



The last couple of days have sucked ASS.

Scratch is the envoy of the Darkness. He's the 'improved' Alan Wake, the harbinger, the urban legend. That's what he knows, what he has known for as long as he can recall. Generally speaking, that's all good with him. He enjoys what he is, enjoys what he does.

So getting cut off from the Darkness? It has him, against his will, wondering what that means for him exactly.

Everything feels a little brighter without that natural mantle of shadows, and it churns his stomach. Attempting to cut his losses, he opts to hole up in Pour Intentions for a while, knocking back enough that e won't remember what the problem is. He gets there, and as he walks in, he spots her. That little upstart. Sneering, he slips around a corner and into a secluded spot, out of her sight.

Wasn't she the one who asked him if he wanted to be his own person? His hands ball into fists on the table. Ordering a whole bottle of whiskey, he takes one shot, two, three. Brooding. Thinking it over. Forming...a plan.

He'd show her who he really is, all right.

At the end of the night, when Zoey leaves, he settles his check. Hours of shots in, he swaggers out the door and into the street, scanning the horizon until he sees where she's walking. If his powers are gone, so are hers. Good. He's careful as he follows her, biding his time, feeling the weight of his knife in his pocket.

Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise.

Comments

[pythianwoman]

The touch makes Zoey shiver despite herself, as his fingertips brush over some of the scars left from the bath tent, waiting for his next move as he toys with her. She’s anticipating... something, expecting something from him, and she gets it as his nails press into the cut he’d made. Unfortunately revealing that he’d cut her deeper than she’d been letting on. Thankfully, though, she’s been in enough pain since he wounded her that she’s able to bite down any reaction. Not flinching. Not giving him the satisfaction.

Instead it’s her turn to draw a blade, one of the knives she’s kept on her since arriving. Since the Carnival, truthfully. She never goes unarmed anymore. Still on tiptoe, his fingers digging into her wounded side, she presses the length of her knife against his neck. Hard, but not hard enough to break skin. That sharp smirk is still on her lips. “Maybe you do,” she replies. “Maybe you don’t.”

[tolduimapsycho]

Ah, okay. So this is how it's gonna be, huh?

The finger pressed into her wound - and damn, he knew he had gotten her good, what a fucking liar she is - presses in harder, merciless, vicious. Maybe he's having a hard time with the idea of knifing her right at this moment, but hurting, hurting he can do. He drags at the wound, trying to tear it further, make it more ragged.

Scratch leans against the blade a little bit, dragging the skin of his own throat along the sharp edge. Drawing just a little blood. Grinning.

"Yeah? Try me."

If he dies, he'll just be coming back sober with a knife, after all.

And she's still injured.

[pythianwoman]

JESUS FUCKING FUCK. She feels the wound tear as he drags at it, and it feels as though her side is on fire. Zoey refuses to give him ANY satisfaction at causing her pain, forcing herself to not react. Biting it back. Biting it all back.

He leans into her blade, LEANS into it, drawing blood. Just a little. But still. What the actual fuck. But then he gives her an opening and how can she resist. He knows she won’t kill him. He’s calling her bluff. And she’s fine with that. Unnecessary killing she has a problem with. Hurting, on the other hand. That she’s just fine with.

She can hurt him just fine right now.

She grins then, as sharp as her smirk was, and a little vicious. “GLADLY.” But instead of cutting his throat, or even stabbing him, she pulls back, flips the knife in her grasp, and hauls back and PUNCHES him. With the strength of a woman who does gymnastics and aerial silks on the regular. She is STRONG. Far stronger than she looks.

[tolduimapsycho]

This is fun, he thinks to himself. He can feel his own blood dribbing down his neck just the same as he can feel the blood soaking the fingertips he's digging into Zoey's wound. Does it hurt? Sure! But it's worth it. It's what he's for, right?

And then it REALLY hurts as Zoey cold-cocks him, sending him stumbling backward and clutching his jaw. There's a moment of sputter, of sway, of blood dribbling from behind his hand.

Then he grins at her through bloody teeth, lip gashed open.

"Ah, a warrior princess, then, huh?"

[pythianwoman]

She can feel the blood running steadily down her side from Scratch digging his fingertips into the wound he’d given her. Soaking her waistcoat and beginning to spread to her jeans, hidden only by the darkness of the fabric. Oh yeah, she is definitely going to be feeling the blood loss here shortly.

Wonderful.

There is something a little satisfying about making him stumble backward clutching his jaw. (And not just because it gets his hand out of her fucking wound.) He deserves it, that’s for fucking certain. A little more breathless than she’d like, Zoey tucks the knife away as easily and quickly as she’d drawn it.

She looks at him then, bleeding from his split lip and the wound he’d caused on his own neck, angry and incredulous and a thousand other things, and she huffs a laugh. She can’t help it. It’s all so fucking ridiculous. All she’d wanted to do was go the fuck home! Not get dragged into... this. Whatever THIS is.

“Yeah,” she retorts, because sure, why not. She’ll take that epithet. Since it’s obvious that that nickname of his isn’t going anywhere. (This is payback. She knows it. This is payback for her tendency to go around the multi!verse nicknaming people.) “Come on. Let’s get your drunken ass home.”

[tolduimapsycho]

Admittedly, Scratch is a little bit surprised that she still wants to walk him home. He figured that after this she'd run, or at the very least bail to go tend to her bleeding. Yet...here she is. Still insistent.

It's actually making him kind of uncomfortable, especially after that memory. Urgh, now he's thinking about it again.

His smile fades a little, and he wipes his lip with his sleeve, shrugging. "...Yeah, yeah, you just wanna know where I live, don'cha?"

[pythianwoman]

That’s the complete opposite of what Zoey wants, actually. Knowing anything at ALL about him feels... like too much. Too intimate, too much like an invitation. Too... everything. Except she’s already SEEN, already EXPERIENCED a part of him that feels... voyeuristic. Intimate in a way that is unsettling. A memory that she will never be able to forget. A part of him that she won’t be able to forget. (A curse of her gift, she thinks, her memory, but she’s never been certain about that.) And she has already infuriated him, drawn his ire and attention and that is as much an invitation to him as anything else COULD be, she thinks. She won't be extricating herself from him any time soon.

She steps closer, pulling a clean handkerchief out of her pocket and holds it out to him, gazing up at him. “No, I don’t.” An amused smile flickers across her face. “Not that I think you’ll believe me.” Not that she cares if he believes her, either. But it’d make this walk to his home easier.

[tolduimapsycho]

Look. Scratch got more than he bargained for too, yeah? Trying to wash the taste of sympathy from his craw is gonna take a whole other bottle. For now, he's opting to pull back, let her usher him home, let her bleed out a while...but she won't be so lucky in the future.

He snatches the handkerchief from her with a little huff, dabbing it across his throat.

"No. I don't believe you at all." A lopsided grin. "...But it's this way."

And he leads, a little sobered by the interaction, but movements still swaying side-to-side.

[pythianwoman]

Yup, his not believing her isn’t a surprise at all, but the grin and the acquiescence IS, a little. She’d half expected them to go back and forth a while longer before he decided to let her walk him home the rest of the way. Drag it out. Next time, then. Because oh, she is CERTAIN there will be a next time. She doesn’t need her gift to see that.

Once again she reaches out and takes a fistful of his coat, to keep him on course a little and from taking out any more trash bins as he sways from side-to-side. Or faceplanting into a fucking brick wall. As amusing as that might be.

[tolduimapsycho]

Don't flatter yourself, Princess. He's not used to getting tired and it's starting to weigh on him a lil' bit. But there will DEFINITELY be a next time...and he's gonna make sure it goes according to plan.

When she grabs his coat, he glances back at her briefly, grinning with still-reddened teeth.

"Should have known you'd be into leashes."

[pythianwoman]

He can certainly try. But plans have a way of going awry, no matter how carefully you might try. Especially when you’ve been dropped down into a strange little corner of the multi!verse.

She looks pointedly down at where her hand grips his coat, and then back up at him... and she smirks, giving it a tug like before. Sharper, this time. “Who’s into leashes here?” she retorts, cheeky and brazen. Pretty sure you’re the one on the leash at the moment, Scratch. And yeah, she’s kind of enjoying it a little. But not for the reasons he thinks.

[tolduimapsycho]

ESPECIALLY when the powers that be have a wicked sense of humor.

She might regret that tug a little when he lets out a type of sound she definitely hadn't heard from Alan before, eyes blazing, cheeks going a little red under all that blood. "Guilty as charged." The words are practically a purr.

Not so far from the Cabin now. He's making the mind games count.

[pythianwoman]

Oh, there’s definitely a little regret there, and something else Zoey can’t put her finger on at the moment. That’s... not a sound she’s ever heard from Alan before. She’s... not entirely certain that’s even a sound in Alan’s repertoire. Nor does she ever plan on finding out. (Wouldn’t THAT be an awkward series of questions. That she could NEVER tell him the reason for.)

But she’s too stubborn to retreat, to back-peddle, and mind games beget mind games, particularly with this motherfucker; so she tugs on his coat once more, hard. Hard enough to yank him back against her. “Interesting. I’ll keep that in mind.” It’s a low, sultry murmur, pitched for him and him alone... before she’s shoving him away again.

Putting that ‘leash’ to good use.

[tolduimapsycho]

If Alan DOES have that sound in his repertoire it probably sucks anyway. >=|

When he yanks him back, he makes the sound again, but louder - dramatically taking a couple heaving breaths and looking back at her through his lashes. "...Mmm...please do."

Then he's getting shoved, and he stumbles forward a step or two before finding his feet and laughing. The laugh is as wicked as ever, but...maybe, just maybe, he's having a little bit of fun at this point.

[pythianwoman]

Such a fucking dramatic little shit, isn’t he. Heaving breaths and looking at her through his lashes. Bad as a goddamn romance novel cover. Of course, she never expected anything ELSE from him. She’s pretty sure he wouldn’t know the meaning of the word subtle if it came up and bit him. Scenery chewing pain in her backside that he is. “Something for you to think about until next time.”

She rolls her eyes at him, watching him stumble as she shoves him away in case she ACTUALLY needs to use the leash to keep him on his feet. But she doesn’t; he finds his footing and laughs. How’d she get stuck with him again? Oh right. She pissed him off and he followed her home. Metaphorically speaking. (Since he doesn’t actually know where she live. Thank FUCK.)

[tolduimapsycho]

"Oh, I will, Princess. I will."

He can't help it if he's just a lil' stinker that way. After all, he's only what people wanted Alan to be, right? And now you know that all too well, don't you, Zoey?

Satisfied with the teasing, he leads her further on, down a road working into the residential area of Haven. The night air is, at least, not so very oppressive...if it weren't for the attempted assault and murder it might even be kinda nice.

Yeah, really is a shame it wasn't a SUCCESSFUL assault and murder.

"'S this way. Almost there. Look for Cauldron Lake Street."

[pythianwoman]

She might have to give him something to think about for real, after this. Probably not the smartest idea she’s had, but she’s lost some blood now and it seems like a fun way to needle him. She just has to find somewhere that sells leashes.

Joy. Something to look forward to. Him trying to kill her when he has his powers back. Oh yeah, she is DEFINITELY strengthening the wards on her home after this. She wants to make sure she can keep him OUT. For as long as possible, anyway. She lets him lead her further on, towards wherever the hell it is he lives.

“Oh good. You remember where you live. I was beginning to wonder.” It’s spoken drily, a little sarcastic, a little deadpan, a little teasing. Cauldron Lake Street. Well that... sure is a street name. And she’s got a bad feeling that has nothing to do with the almost murder or the lack of powers. (Well maybe a little to do with the almost murder.) And everything to do with familiarity. She knows this area of Haven. All too well.

She lives near here.

FUCK.

Suddenly, her walking him home is a very good thing. She knows where he lives, now. Knows how close he is to her. Knows to be careful.

[tolduimapsycho]

"Yeah, well, having someone else's memories jammed into your head has a way of being sobering," he retorts without thinking. Then after a beat, the irony hits him and he heaves a heavy sigh, something more tired than anything. "Guess you know that, huh?"

Fortunately for her, he's oblivious to her realization, being without powers and having his back turned. They turn down a street with the name he had indicated - and there in the distance, a dark, imposing cabin is slowly coming into view.

Scratch is kind of...quiet.

[pythianwoman]

That’s maybe the most... surprising thing of all out of this whole evening, she thinks. He doesn’t know, of course. Doesn’t know that she has lived with experiencing that since she was almost seven years old. Not that it ever gets any easier. But it is a... familiar experience, at least. “Yeah,” she murmurs softly. Tiredly. “I do.”

When they finally turn onto Cauldron Lake Road and she sees a dark, imposing cabin sloooooowly coming into view... she’s not entirely surprised. She’s not sure where she pictured him living but a spooky cabin sure as hell was possible. But so was a streamlined flat with all the windows covered over with blackout curtains.

He’s quiet, though. That’s odd. Then again he’s not used to being human. Or drunk. So maybe it’s just that. Maybe.

It is... supremely eerie, the closer they get to it, and it reminds her of how he felt to her when they first met. But she doesn’t let go of his coat. She’s in this to the end. Once he’s safely ensconced in his home THEN she can leave.

And she’s probably going to regret it, going to regret even the slightest show of concern, but she does anyway. “You all right?” Not that she expects an answer.

[tolduimapsycho]

The closer they get, the nicer the Cabin actually looks from the outside. It would be cozy, if it weren't for the windows looming in solid black. There's seating on the porch, a cellar door, beautiful wood work. If it belonged to anyone else, it would maybe even be inviting.

When she asks after his well being, however, he stops walking. He doesn't look back, he just stands still a moment, thinking.

"...Why? Do you care?" It's not teasing. The words are flat.

[pythianwoman]

The architecture is nice. Still creepy, but it’s a nice building. But she’s still not planning on visiting regularly. Absolutely not. (That very well might end up being completely false, once she learns that Alan and his wife have moved in.)

She ought to know better. She really ought to know better. She has no doubt he’ll use it against her, later. A perceived ‘weakness’. But Zoey answers honestly all the same. Her hand loosens on his coat, instead resting pressed against his back. “Yeah. I do.” It’s the honest fucking truth. And she doubts that he’ll believe her. But the words are absolutely meant. As was her question.

[tolduimapsycho]

When she presses her hand to his back, she can feel his muscles tense under the suit - a far cry from the languid, leisurely stroll he had been cultivating. He still doesn't look back, his voice Alan's but not, but even more not than usual.

"...'m tired. Not used to that. Sucks."

He casts a sidelong glance over his shoulder.

"So no. Not okay. Maybe will be later."

[pythianwoman]

Somewhere Dorian is wanting to beat his head against a wall and doesn’t know why she thinks to herself. He would be BEYOND frustrated with her and her apparent inability to understand the meaning of the words self-preservation. Here she is, her hand pressed to the back of the man who had tried very hard to kill her, asking after his well-being. And who would be trying very hard to kill her in the future, no doubt.

He is tense under her hand, proving just how much his languid, leisurely stroll had been an act. Much like a lot of him, she thinks. Her hand stays there, on his back.

But he’s not used to being human. There, she has the advantage on him. There... she can help. If he’ll let her. “You’re going to want to eat something. And drink something. That’s not alcoholic. Water would be best, or Gatorade. Trust me. You’ll be in a world of pain tomorrow if you don’t.” A pause “And I know it sucks... but let yourself sleep. That will help, too. Won’t make anything more okay. But it’ll help.”

[tolduimapsycho]

Huh. He was expecting more mushy shit, honestly. The advice on literally being a human is a surprise, and he turns on his heel, expression confused, but...listening. Calm, for the moment.

"...Huh. Okay." A long moment of quiet. A nod, maybe the closest to a thank-you he can muster.

Then he turns back around, continuing to approach the swiftly-nearing Cabin.

[pythianwoman]

He turns on his heel and she half expects another stabbing attempt. But he doesn’t. He just… looks at her, expression confused. But listening. And calm. (whether or not that will last… well, she’ll take it for however long it does.) The quiet lingers after his words, and she just… nods back.

And then she falls into step with him, keeping pace as they approach his cabin.