[Action]

[reshape_destiny]

[Alan's original intention in visiting the item store was to find something to help decorate the apartment for Christmas-- not so much because he cared about it, but because he knew Alice would want that little touch of home. He just hoped she wouldn't ask him to go cut down a tree himself or anything like that (he'd do it if she did, of course,

Comments

[sittingtype]

[ Alan isn't the only one in the item store. John can also be found looking around, but has turned up empty handed so far. He is pretty absorbed in the search and won't notice anybody else. ]

[reshape_destiny]

[So absorbed is he in that search that he nearly bumps into Alan, who manages to take a quick step out of the way, though he does raise an eyebrow.]

Hey, watch it.

[sittingtype]

Oh. Erm, sorry about that.

[ John looks up and offers an apologetic smile before his head ducks back down and he continues his search. Then. . . ] You haven't happened to seen a cane in here, have you?

[reshape_destiny]

[The mention of a cane has Alan feeling slightly bad for being snippy like that. Just slightly.]

Don't worry about it, and no, I can't say I have. What does it look like?

[filmtrail]

[It takes a moment for Alice look up when Alan walks in, having some trouble tearing her eyes away from some thriller she found while scrounging the library.]

Is that...? [Your typewriter? She knows that, chances are, it is.] Looks like they left you an early Christmas present, hm?

[reshape_destiny]

I thought it was a little early for April Fool's. Don't know why else they would give this to me here, unless they're that hard up for new reading material.

[He'll set it down on the table for the time being before heading over to the couch to greet her with a kiss. When he catches sight of the book she's reading, he grins.]

Do I have competition?

[filmtrail]

[She dogears the page she was on while trying hard not to smile up at him impishly, ignoring the typewriter for the moment.]

You know no one can compete with you, Mr. Wake. [not even this terribly written futuristic thriller set in an elven world; really, it was bad.]

[reshape_destiny]

Of course. I am a famous writer.

[He knows he's being a little egotistical right now, and quite frankly, he doesn't care. Even now he's still riding the remnants of that high of it worked, it actually worked-- because, honestly, how many other writers could pull something like that off? He thinks he's earned the right to be at least a little proud of himself for that.]

You always were my biggest fan.

[His smile softens for a moment, becomes something more genuine and less of his usual confident smirk. And then...]

... hey, do you think I'm too heavy on the metaphors?

[reshape_destiny]

[Normally Alan wouldn't have paid her much heed despite her odd attire-- he's starting to get used to the odd inhabitants of Luceti by now. But the fact that his skin crawls in an all-too-familiar way when he walks past her has his grip on that typewriter faltering as he whirls to face her, instinctively taking a step backwards.

Not here too...!]

[reshape_destiny]

[Alan manages to shift the typewriter to one arm so that he can reach for his gun... which isn't there. Of all the things to leave at home, and no flashlight either...

... and then she's moving towards him and... wait. There isn't darkness oozing off her like a normal Taken. That squid ink-like sea of darkness that surrounds their bodies isn't there. Then why does she feel like they do?]

... you're not a Taken.