event } ya gotta be a dolphin

[seeingyou]

WHO: All the little fishies!
WHAT: An underwater adventure
WHERE: Kupra City, or you can stay on Navi if ya want
WHEN: Dec. 20-Jan. 2 16
WARNINGS: Use ‘em in your threads if needed! And if you end up taking an extended dip in the big drink, please report it on the death page.

[Hello, passengers! Hope you're all ready for an announcement, 'cause Navi's voice is getting beamed into your head right about ... now.]

Attention, passengers.
We'll be landing soon on the planet Umora, at Kupra City.
We'll be docked for two weeks, local time.
Please stand by for atmospheric entry.

[Is it just your imagination, or does Navi sound more tired than normal? Either way, it's now time to BUCKLE IN, CHAPS. It's not a particularly rough landing, just your standard amount of turbulence, though it may seem a little jarring to those who aren't used to space travel.

Upon docking underwater and disembarking, passengers will find a bank counter just past the terminal, where your new windfall of Navigems can be exchanged for credits (the universal currency).

Have fun! And do try not to drown … ]

Comments

[11calls]

Open to all.
Alex is rather tickled to be at an underwater planet actually. She loves water and the beach outside of Seattle isn’t exactly good for swimming and her pale skin isn’t the best for sunbathing. But that’s not really an issue here and one of the first things that Alex purchased was a bikini to wear below the frog suits that she had rented. Her hair is mostly dry at this point, but it had done so naturally in the form of loose waves over her shoulders.

With a drink in her hand, Alex looks more relaxed than she has in a long time. Honestly she feels more relaxed than she has since she can’t remember when. It’s definitely an improvement over the last planet where she’d gotten turned into a kid for Slenderman. But thinking of Slenderman makes Alex think of Jon and she frowns a bit because he doesn’t remember that at all. It’s almost like he’s an entirely new person honestly as weird as that might be. Still. This was definitely not the place for such thoughts. Not when all Alex wanted to do was to soak in the ambiance of this place and the things that went along with it.

Still when she sees someone familiar, she greets them warmly and gestures to the table opposite for conversation or whatever else.

Closed to Richard.
Alex is still wearing her bikini later on, even if she’s got a wrap around her waist. She’s had a few drinks at this point, and someone had given Alex a fragrant flower within her hair behind her ear. Over her arm she’s got a basket of things that she’s picked up for the ship, but Alex can’t help but to drop it when she sees a very familiar person indeed. After all who else would wear a suit on an underwater planet?!

Later, Alex would blame the fact that she was a bit drunk on what she does next. Alex Reagan is well aware of the fact that Dr. Richard Strand of the Strand Institute is in fact a touch-me-not. Other than shaking his hand when she’d first met him and putting her hand on his arm the last night that she’d seen him after they were rescued by Coralee and he’d finally opened up with the truth. Alex by nature is a toucher and that’s something that goes doubly so when she’s drunk. Which is why she throws herself into his arms in a giant hug while yelling “Richard! Oh my god you’re here!”

[ancestor]

• “Daycare”

When given the choice between staying aboard the tight quarters of the ship or exploring the planet they remain docked to Azem will always choose to explore the planet. Unfortunately she also happens to have a great deal of plants she needs to tend to in the hydroponic gardens, meaning she reluctantly returns once a day to ensure her plants are growing properly.

By the fourth day a small gaggle of children follows her to Navi, waiting impatiently as she does her daily botanical duties. Every few days another new face joins the group; all myriad of scales, tails, tentacles, webbing, and bioluminescence are represented among the children. Her Carbuncle doesn't look out of place as it monitors the squabbling, roughhousing group.

All misbehaviour stops the moment Azem announces her return—usually by sneaking up on them either from behind or above, courtesy of her skill with teleportation. She gives them a playful fright, earning startled squeals that soon turn to delight.

• Economy 101

While the concept of trade is familiar to her, the concept of money is still baffling. Even more baffling is the concept of poverty; homelessness, starvation, and the lack of basic necessities. This world is not wasteland, incapable of supporting life. There is no reason for this. Creating shelter is simple, as is connecting it to the necessary utilities.

The complicated part is the reaction of the general populous she meant to help. While appreciative, they inform her of the issue of recurring bills and taxation. All things that require currency. Azem doesn't know how to use her universal credits, nor would they be enough for a lifetime of expenses, so she does the next best thing and just creates a great deal of precious metals and gemstones to go with each home... Which draws a great deal of unwanted attention to both her actions and her abilities.

In the end Azem puts her shapechanging skills to good use, altering her form to better blend in among the locals; a warmer skintone, patches of iridescent scales, some fins in the appropriate places.

She lets out quiet, irritated huff once she's suitably camouflaged.

"...Ridiculous!"

• Wildcard

(( I'm open to whatever! I may add more prompts later, which will be identified in the comment subject lines.

notes:
» she generally tends to be around 4'8" in height, except when trying to blend in.

» until she accidentally trashes the economy/discovers how lame greedy people are (~day 10), Hem will be wearing her mask.

» after that point (day 11 onwards) she'll keep iridescent, ivory patches of scales on her cheeks/nose/forehead to obscure her natural appearance instead. kind of like this, albeit more aquatic-y scales and flowing fins rather than draconic-y. ))

closed to Murmur

[sinkthe8ball]

By all accounts, this should in theory be an easy gig. Which she wouldn’t mind in all honesty. It’s been how long since she’s been able to shoot something? Just the idea of hunting this “ghost” had her in a far more chipper mood. There was something to do other than snark at her shipmates and be forever annoyed with Mammon. Would wonders never cease? It was better than prowling the city restless and aimless at any rate and had the added benefit of adding a few extra credits to her pocket. That was good she had purchases she was already planning in her head once this was over and her client satisfied.

Though after nearly an hour of skulking around the area where most of the sightings have occurred, she’s starting to feel a little like the natives are taking advantage of her lack of familiarity. No one she’s crossed paths with yet has matched the one tell-tale feature the parent of her clients could remember. Not that talking to the man had been much help to start with, whatever this ghost did to him, it did a damned fine job of ensuring that the man could not remember much of anything. She almost feels bad for him in a way. There weren’t a lot of demons back home with that sort of power.

But for all the talk she overhears as she searches, she’s got that weird sensation that maybe there was more to this gig than what it looked like on the surface. But perhaps she may just finally have lady luck on her side as she skulks down an alley, not really expecting anything to come of it, but there are two figures one hunched over the other whispering and while she can’t make out the words exactly, she gets the sense that they have intent behind them.

CW: drugs, overdose

[albatrossomen]

There wasn't anything remarkable about the crouching man. Except, perhaps, how unremarkable he looked. Plain clothing, perhaps a little more western than was necessarily typical but given that this was a tourist trap town that wasn't anything strange, no stand out features, particularly in the dim light of the alley. The man sitting on the ground propped up against a wall looked much more like what you'd expect to find down an alley. Filthy, disheveled, with the patchwork baggy clothing anyone would recognize as a homeless person.

The crouching man was speaking softly, a soothing tone while he gently held the other's arm up in one hand. As she approached she might catch a few of the words.

"You must choose," He said softly. "Do you want to live?" Upon closer inspection the sitting man seemed unwell. Delirious, his speech slurred, his limbs held loose as his head lolled to one side. Shallow struggling breath.

"I... I don't want to die." He choked out with some difficulty, trying to meet the other's gaze but not quite possessing the strength.

"That isn't choosing." The crouching man reminded him gently. The other shook his head weekly, shifting as if to try to stand or move but only managing to lose ground instead. He sobbed softly, but still the other did nothing. Not until he choked out in a weak voice: "I-I-I'm not ready to die, please."

That seemed to be satisfactory enough for the other, who lifted the arm he'd been holding gently to grip the floppy limb above what were clearly track marks in the soggy pale skin. With a gentle squeeze something began to ooze from those holes.

The other man continued to sob softly, but he also seemed to grow more alert, his condition improving while the other worked. Just what had Lady walked in on?

Daycare

[albatrossomen]

Despite looking like someone who would be most comfortable tucked away in some stuffy old library never seeing daylight, Murmur was quick to disembark as soon as they were planet side. He may be perfectly comfortable cloistered away somewhere small and quiet, but that's the key isn't it? Quiet. Something some of the passengers are decidedly not.

He'd been out and about, far more elusive than he already was on board, but that didn't mean he didn't take the time to return on occasion. This particular occasion was met with far more noise than he'd been expecting. A whole gaggle of... probably children? Given their wildly varying physiology it was impossible to be completely certain, but they behaved how he expected children to behave. He thinks. It's not like he has much experience.

Unfortunately that meant the way back into the ship was blocked for the time being. So Murmur hung back, waiting for whoever was responsible for all of these to return and gather them up. It didn't take too long for Hemera to appear, setting the pent-up childlike chaos loose. Good, perfect, a distraction. Murmur was just going to take this moment to attempt to skirt around the gaggle, hopefully avoiding the ire of Hemera's highly aggressive pet.

[imarealistnotacynic]

Richard Strand is not having a good day.

The last thing he remembered was driving back from the studio after visiting Keith Dabic. After trying to explain to Alex Reagan just how Dabic's mother might have influenced the poor young man's regrettable decisions he'd driven off to try and find something to drink. Thinking about Travis. Thinking about other people involved in all this.

Thinking about how all of this ties into his own desire to beat back an overbearing parent when he was younger and then-

A ship. That voice. Navi.

He's not entirely sure this isn't a dream but there are simple ways to tell what things are and what is real and he's managed to gather several samples to the dismay of the so-called locals when a voice shouts and there are arms around him-

He visibly starts, letting out what he's ashamed to admit is a cry of surprise before he realizes it's small and a familiar voice. The same voice he'd been thinking about before he'd gone back up to see her with the Dabic case...

"..Alex Reagan?!"

Oh god.

His features are panicked because-

Taking off his glasses he tucks them into the pocket of his suit before staring at her bag and then - no it would be rude to reach out to touch her and she's obviously very solid.

"What are you doing here? Is this -" If this is a dream and she's in my dreams...

Oh god.

He takes a step back and rubs at the back of his neck before looking her up and down when it hits she's in a bikini.

"I'm-I um." Alex Regan was a means to an end. Barely a colleague, but he is bright red looking at her, "You're wearing a bikini."

[11calls]

Okay, maybe Alex really should have known that Richard Strand wouldn't handle being unexpectedly hugged well. After all, if they were home, even after everything that had last happened, Alex hadn't hugged him. There were certain lines that she wouldn't have crossed between the two of them, and Strand's reaction had solidified the reasonings that she'd had behind that. Coloring more than a little bit, Alex is very quick to step back away from him, and without of touching distance. Holding her hands up in the international sign of being unarmed, Alex just smiles sheepishly.

"It's me." The words echo her time when she'd followed him to Empress Hotel, and it's not even something that Alex had intended on doing. "Sorry," she explains, her words gushing forward and damned near tripping over themselves in an effort to get out. "Sorry." Yes, she says it again. "It's just been a really long time since I've seen you. And I kind of thought that I'd never see you again honestly. I mean, you know, outer space and all of that. It can be dangerous." Is she babbling. Yes, she may be babbling a little bit--or a lot really, because Alex tends to do that when she's drunk.

"I've been here god...five months now? I think so anyway. Sometimes it can be really hard to tell time. I mean it was October back home, and it was August when I arrived, and now it's December maybe? January? It's really hard to tell how long things are when you don't have a real day or night to orientate yourself too."

Pausing, Alex just continues after a moment. "It's real. I mean, I know you're you and your inclined to like doubt everything, but it really is. And yeah, I'm wearing a bikini because how often do you get to visit a mostly underwater planet?"

[imarealistnotacynic]

Five months?

"That's impossible. Five months. I just left you at the studio after visiting the Dabic house."

He frowns, studying her, "And I don't doubt everything for the record. I just require facts. This planet really is fascinating but I-"

Perhaps he could look her in the eye (Why is this bothering him? She's just a colleague she has a right to her fashion choices.) Meeting her dark chocolate gaze however made him stop - and breathe. She really does have grounding eyes. A gaze that made him stop and think.

It was something uniquely hers and she was babbling about planets and, "...I'm afraid I'm a little lost."

and he hates it. He hates feeling like an absentminded professor and it shows, fiddling at his hands as people raise their eyebrows at him.

[11calls]

“What?” As soon as Richard had said that he’d just left that Dabic house, Alex had honestly stopped listening. “What?!” The word is just constructed entirely out of a shocked dismay. “No that’s impossible! That was eighteen months ago, Richard! That was in May of 2015! I’m from October of 2016!”

This wasn’t something that was unheard of and Alex remembers all too well how it had happened to Martin and Jon when the two of them had first come aboard. Granted, at least the two of them weren’t dating like Martin and Jon had been—well, at least when Martin was from anyway. “Oh my god no, this definitely can’t be true. This can’t be. I can’t be from so far after you are. This isn’t fair!”

[ancestor]

Had they been human children, Murmur may have successfully been able to slink past unnoticed. Unfortunately for him, one of the children has a particularly keen sense of electroreception. Unfortunately for Azem this particular child is both curious and clingy.

She sigh in fond exasperation, allowing the boy to lead her with two outstretched tentacles (the other six remain firmly wrapped around her arm and torso). He lets out a small sound of triumph when Murmur is within his remarkably long reach and promptly wraps a tentacle around whatever piece of the man is closest.

The child garbles in the unintelligible language of those just learning to speak.

"Karl says that you feel strange and have to play," Azem translates, then quietly chastises 'Karl' in a firm but kind tone. The boy wilts (though maintains his grip on them both) and relents, babbling at Murmur some more.

Azem brightens, audibly delighted by the progress Karl has made with his manners, and Karl brightens along with her.

"He apologizes, and asks if you would like to play."

[imarealistnotacynic]

"...Alex calm down." He holds out two hands because her being so distraught pulls at him. She is a good person and she's a means to his ends.

That said, apparently he stuck with her podcast for far longer than he'd intended.

Interesting.

"All we need to do is catch up in this-place." he pauses, "Whatever this dream is. I didn't expect you in my dreams or in this real place but that's not a bad thing."

[11calls]

“Oh my god.” Alex just drags the words out for a moment, and she’s reminded of the night that she’d held his hand after everything that happened with Coralee leaving again. Fuck, he doesn’t even know that Coralee is alive not to mention everything else that had happened and that Alex had discovered. He doesn’t know about Warren and the Advocate and Simon and god, she’s pretty sure that the list of things that Richard Strand doesn’t know is longer than the one that he does. And that’s not even taking into account all of the things that she’d learned about him and his past. Things that Alex is well aware of the fact that Strand wishes that she didn’t.

Any lingering drunkness in Alex’s system is lost in the cold burn of all of the knowledge that she has and Strand doesn’t and for a moment it’s all she can do to just swallow and then take some slow and square breaths like Dr. Bernier had taught her for the moments when the nightmares were too much. This right now feels like a nightmare of the highest order and it hurts and it sucks and Alex finds it fucking hilarious that all that she’s wanted for months was to have Richard Strand here and now this is what she gets. It’s not the worst way he could have come (at least he knows who she is, Alex thinks. At least he’s not thinking that he’s happily married to Coralee because both of those things would be worse!) but it’s still pretty terrible nonetheless.

Alex really needs to learn to be careful what she wishes for.

So, Alex just takes a deep breath and dives in, wanting to take him back to the ship, but definitely wanting to be in some place more private. So she leads him back in the direction that he’d come from, picking up her basket as she does so. “It’s not a dream, Dr. Strand.” And that’s a bit of a change from the Richard that it would have been otherwise. “This is real. It’s been real and I’ve been loving it for months. We have been taken by a sentient spaceship. And I am from when I say I am from and I can prove it. I know how much you need evidence and while I don’t have all of the evidence I do have my recorder here. So that should help.”

Alex pauses and her voice is softer and kinder and more empathic when she speaks. “A lot has happened in eighteen months. Like. So much.”

[imarealistnotacynic]

Alex Reagan is one of the best in her field.

That had been one of the reasons he'd had his assistant call her back in the end. Extensive research. Listening to her interview with Michelle Obama. Anyone with a white house press pass was surely on par with consulting with James Wan on The Conjuring (even if it was against Elaine's objections).

Still she looks...shaken. It leaves him on shaky ground because since Coralee she's the first person who's felt a bit more steady and somehow tenacious and -

His lips press together, "...Tell me everything." But his voice is a bit more firm then he might realize as he gestures, "...And perhaps put something...on."

[11calls]

Alex colors when she looks down at her bathing suit, and she just swallows a bit because she has hugged the most touch-me-not version of Richard Strand, and not only had she done that, but she'd also done it practically wearing nothing at all. God, this somehow feels like all of those nightmares that she'd had as a kid when she'd shown up to school naked or something. But Alex doesn't say anything until they're back aboard the ship and they're in cabin 501.

It only takes a second for Alex to change into something that's closer to the uniform that she'd wear back at home than the bikini she was wearing, even if it's not quite perfect. When one is picking up clothing on an alien planet, it's hard to find exactly what you want, but the trousers and sleeveless button down at least make her feel a bit better even if they're tighter than what she'd have wanted them to be.

Before Alex herself sits down, she grabs the bottle of bourbon that she'd picked up a few planets ago that she'd barely touched, and then she adds a pair of glasses. Dr. Strand is going to need a drink, and Alex definitely could use one too. With that busy work completed, she just sits in the chair across from him and folds the recorder over and over in her hands before she just admits softly: "I'm not really sure where to begin, honestly."

[imarealistnotacynic]

Richard stares at her cabin and decides this is a good thing, "I'm next door." He points, "This is good." He nods, "I'm right next door. If you need anything or we need to watch out for each other we can do that."

When they enter he averts his eyes politely trying not to think of her presence when she grabs the Burbon.

"...Start at the beginning." He folds his hands, "...You haven't steered me wrong yet."

[11calls]

"The beginning." Alex echoes the words with no amount of dismay, because she doesn't know if the beginning is the most important thing here. The most important thing, at least in terms of him and the things that he would actually believe... Well, then again that was the beginning of this for him, wasn't it? At least in some ways. Yes, there was what happened with Cheryl when they were kids, and there was Bobby Maimes and everything that Howard had done, but the place where the Institute had started came from the way that he hadn't been able to find his missing wife.

"Richard," her voice is soft, and compassionate when Alex says his name with a deliberate note, and she can't help but to feel like this is going to destroy him, and not for the first time. God, she'd just watched him fall apart and now she was going to need to do it again. Reaching over to rest her hand on top of his, Alex looks him in the eye directly. "I'm so sorry but Coralee is alive. And it's not heresy or a mistake or anything like that. I was with you when she showed up to save us from Thomas Warren. I met her. She's alive."

[imarealistnotacynic]

"It's disgusting that you'd think of using me like this." Richard Strand slammed the white toyota door hard, trying to ignore the sense of betrayal and pain in his chest, "It's absolutely vile and after everything you've pulled-"

"Joanne Davidson." her arms were crossed, "Richard I want this because I love you but if you want to compare broken things in our lives I know you and Joanne had coffee-"

"It's not the same!-"

He had screamed it before stalking to the gas station and slamming money on the counter, taking a minute to stick his head in the freezer. Joanne was a colleague and Coralee was the woman who had held him and stroked his hair when he was sick and-

Alex is speaking but his chest is constricting and then. Rage. dig into that same rage he found when he found their car abandoned.

"...I thought you were a professional." His voice is ice cold and dangerous, "I expected that you'd researched me but to do this? To tell lies like this?"

"...I thought you were a professional." it's hard to keep the disgust out of his voice but, "But this is just cruel."

[11calls]

“What?!” Alex looks like she’s been kicked in the stomach. She feels like it too. “You think I would do this just be cruel to you after I was so happy to see you? Jesus Christ, Richard. I know that you always think the worst of me; but this?! God!” Alex just shakes her head with a hitch of breath before she goes to the file on her recorder. It’s not the last one, but it’s close to the end of the ones here on the physical recorder itself.

When Alex hits play, the sound spills out around them, starting with her own voice and then his responding.

“What do you think about Thomas Warren? Any idea what to expect?”

“No idea.”

“Are those...? Do you think that’s a security team?”

“That’s an awful lot of security.”

“They can’t be for us can they?”

“They are coming this way.”

“They have guns. Do you think they’re police?”

“They’re NOT police.”

There’s a sound of tires squealing as a car slams to a stop. A door opens and slams shut before an all too familiar voice: Coralee Strand, speaks. “Get into the van.”

Alex’s response is immediate and sharp. “I don’t think so.”

Coralee isn’t deterred. “Get into the van if you want to live.”

Perhaps almost as surprising is what Strand himself says, “get into the van, Alex.”

They get in and the door closes before the car speeds off. There is more than a hint of fear in Alex’s voice after everything. “What’s going on?!”

Strand speaks again, resignation in his voice. “Alex, I’d like you to meet Coralee.”

Coralee’s response is seemingly normal as if this is something that she does every day. “Hello Alex.”

[imarealistnotacynic]

Richard Strand stares at her and breaks.

He stares at her. It's proof. It's irrefutable proof of Alex's words and he wants to take it back but also reach across the table and strangle her for it. Acting all offended. What? Was she after him-physically? Mentally?

The name Warren rings. His hands flex. He's been kidnapped by a sentient ship, Alex is here, apparently they have been kidnapped by the same woman who left him abandoned on the side of the road running off into the woods driven half mad with grief-

why would she hurt me. She wouldn't.

"Play it again."

That's her voice.

"Play it again. Can this ship do voice analysis? Confirm it's a human can-"

His hands flex.

"Please."

His words are full of emotion and hurt.

[11calls]

“There’s.” Alex stops and she starts again, because god she can see him hurting and that hurts her more than she knows what to do with in this moment.

“There’s more,” Alex tries again and she manages to get it actually out this time. “She and the people who she was with either kidnapped us or saved us. They took both of us to an empty Airbnb. The man and the woman who were with Coralee waited on the porch and kept watch. You went in with her alone to talk to her. It was the first time you’d seen her, but it wasn’t the first time you’d spoken with her, Richard. You had been working with her for months without telling me that it was her you were working with.”

Which had hurt and Alex wasn’t going to lie about it. But she doesn’t mention it—she probably doesn’t need to do it.

“We drove around a lot that night. I don’t think you wanted to be alone. When you were finally ready, you drove us back to your father’s house in Seattle. You’re living there now. You said that everything with Coralee’s disappearance was based out of the Pacific Northwest and that’s why you moved in. You and Ruby have been redoing it.”

Alex just picks up the recorder again and she she queues up the next file but she doesn’t play it as she puts the recorder in front of him. “You told me what she’d said to you that night over a bottle of bourbon there. When you’re ready you should play it.” Alex’s voice gets softer. “I should warn you it’s a lot, Richard. It’s a lot and it’s pretty terrible.”

[imarealistnotacynic]

Their wedding. Their poetry vows. Charlie following him with a toddler giggle.

Christmases. Birthdays. Back when he was some kind of mild mannered professor. Family dinners long before the damned black tapes, burying his ridiculous family history in a family of his own.

God he had been proud. Proud of himself for healing. But Coralee was alive. She had-she was alive and the time he'd spent - the trauma that happened...

"Give me the tape."

He moves to take the recorder his hands trembling.

"Give me the tape I'm not taking your recorder give me the tape." His voice is still ice cold and hard, "After everything I did."

[11calls]

"I can't give you the tape, Richard. There isn't tape. It's digital. I would if I could if it was possible, but it's not. You can borrow my recorder if you want to. I mean." Alex just sighs softly, and she just curls herself inwards a bit on herself and draws her knees up to her chest.

"There's other stuff not related to Coralee on there too, that's important so please just don't break it." Because there's the axis mundi and how Alex knows about Bobby Maimes and everything else that's been involved of hundreds of hours of work and loss and the fact that Alex hasn't sleep in fucking two years because of all of this.

[imarealistnotacynic]

She curls in and he feels bad. It's a fleeting feeling but it's a sense of pain he never expected.

"Digital. Yes of course."

And he presses play. It's bothering her, so it's perhaps crueler than he wants to admit to himself. He wants to watch her squirm. Then the two of them talk and he relates the story between the two of them. What Coralee said about watching. He's visibly shaking and he has to pull his glasses off at one point to wipe at his face becasue.

But when he speaks his voice is calm.

"I'm not going to break your recorder. And I'm glad you told me." He can't abide secrets. Even in his hypocrisy he cannot abide secrets.

"But I have no idea what the fuck this means."

[11calls]

Alex just reaches out and puts her hand on Richard's again, fully reminded of that night, and she lets out a little sigh for a moment. "It's a lot. I know it's a lot. It's a lot and it's like something out of a supernatural spy movie or something. If that even is a thing that is." It's a standard Alex Reagan bad joke as a stab at normality.

"There's a lot that had happened before then, but I'd thought it was the most important part for you to know. But the other stuff is background that's important too. Um. So you picked tapes from your collection to show me. I know that there's over a hundred different tapes just to put that out of the way. So you showed me the Torres tapes, then the Unsound. After that there was the festival of the Upside Down Face and the murder that started it in Chattsworth. Then it was the Exorcism of Jessica Wheldon who called into the show a few months ago and I interviewed her then. Then there was Simon. Simon Reese is a kid who had been possessed and killed his parents to prevent them from opening the door for any other kids. He can bilocate and like comes up a lot, actually. He's sort of been stalking me."

Pushing that aside.

"Then Sebastian Torres was kidnapped by a member of the Order of the Cenophus, Brother Edward. Brother Edward probably opened a door for him too. We don't know because the Torres Family won't speak to us. But Simon killed Brother Edward and the rest of the Brothers of the Mount a few months ago. You showed me the experiment with the Demon Board that your father had, Richard. And I know. God, I know this so much and we're not even halfway through the season but I know about Bobby Maimes too. I know why you really started your Institute." Alex gestures to the recorder and the file that he'd just played.

"Watchers are connected to The Order of the Cenophus and that's what they call the whole group of people who interact with this weird sort of Underworld. The adults who open the Doors for the kids, and also what Coralee did to you, and I'm so sorry that you needed to find out this way."

[imarealistnotacynic]

The weird part about this is that it fits in a strange way. He's always suspected that he was being stalked - that after Coralee someone was watching him. Was it her? His heart didn't dare to hope. Her hand on his makes him pull away slowly, staring at nothing before looking at her. Stuck on a ship with someone who knew all these things about him...

"...Bobby Maimes was a fluke. It was logic. I'm not psychic" But he was on an alien space ship with an Alex Reagan who knew all these things about his future.

Staring at the Burbon he swallows, "And as for my-" He grimaces, "My father. His experiments and his occult work doesn't matter because he's dead and-"

Oh god.

The way he copes with this is to run. The way he copes with pain is to run but he can't. He's in a box with Alex Reagan and the pain that wells in him makes him feel sick but he -

Shoves it down.

He can bury it. Make it go away. Make it make sense.

"...It is what it is however. I can go over your recordings and piece it together." Yes. Apply logic, Apply reason, Apply reality, "...Does this ship have a library? I could just - perhaps the computer might have some ideas."

All of the rage and pain simmers beneath the surface but he looks professor-like. He's locked it down. Staring down at the recorder with a grimace he has to parcel out his feelings.

Either he abandons her here - this person who he apparently knows so well by this time - or he uses her to continue to help him achieve what he needs.

So he moves to pour alcohol into his glass.

"I would still like your help since you know more than I do."