elnysa | Video: UN: PNWSAlex

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Video: UN: PNWSAlex

[Alex is sitting somewhere, and she's got a mug of coffee in front of her, along with a note pad and a pen. She smiles, but there's an undercurrent of nervousness in it because while multiple people have told her she could be on television, Alex's preferred medium has always been radio and podcasts. She's not quite sure what to do with her hands (they'd normally be on the control box) when she speaks so she picks up a pen and rolls it between her fingers.]

Hi! Um. Like a lot of you I'm a [kidnapee?] refugee and I need to find a job. Back home I worked as a reporter, and I'm hoping that I'll be able to use my skills doing the same thing here. I'd give you some references but I'm afraid that they probably wouldn't do you any good anyway now. [And she doesn't want to explain either what a podcast is, or how hers won a best of Apple award in 2015. So for now just a reporter will work.]

But my name is Alex Reagan and I've been working in the business since college, so I've got a fair amount experience. Thanks?

[Stupid camera, stupid being uncomfortable on camera, and Alex just turns it off with little preamble.]

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[Right. She had said that, hadn't she. But that said.]

Good cop bad cop, Richard?

[Which is to say she'll make certain he doesn't get punched.]

[ great. ]

We are not a procedural cop program. But I'll consider it. Depending on how much information you can uncover.

It's hard to get people to trust you after you've just come out and demanded something so private, Richard.

[ which is why alex had not started with personal things, and you know, had attempted to manipulate a situation where she got back in to see the black tapes. of course, he'd known she was doing it but alex knew that you didn't start with big things. and whatever else alex did and how much she sometimes just ignored her professional ethics, people did like her and trust her and want to tell her more. ]

The only problem with doing it the other way is that sometimes it can take a lot longer. So, you can get ask and get what answers you can and then I'll come in and apologize for you and get people to talk to me because of it. Win Win.

[ there's another lengthy pause where richard types up another response, perhaps a sniping is that what you did with me, because of course it is. he wouldn't have told alex a damn thing, and she went and dug it up on her own, and confronted him with it when he had little choice but to say it was true. and some part of that greatly aggravates him, and makes him want to say that people aren't so easily manipulated.

but they are. because he's here, texting alex. and he considers her a friend, but how much of that is the work, and how much of that is legitimately because she enjoys his company? his life is the subject of this stupid show, which has turned into so much more than a stupid show, or has it? which sparks another train of thought, and has him reflect on coralee, which is not going to help anyone at all.

so, instead of typing all of that: ]

Fine.

[ sorting through all of that sudden rush of frustrated irritation isn't going to help anybody via text, and being oversensitive is simply a sign that he needs to . . . well, not be oversensitive.

get over it. moving on. ]

[ alex is quite used to having strand type her massive text posts, so she doesn't mind the wait, because she's expecting something of a novel from him. or of course that he won't respond at all which would also be a very strand-like thing to do. but when the post she gets is a single syllable (which she can hear quite easily with a sigh if she thinks about it) then alex frowns. she frowns deeply, and with more than a little bit of concern.

so much concern that she actually sits up to text him, which is also an old habit from back home. ]

Are you alright, Richard?

[ no. he isn't. and he hasn't been. he needs time to process what happened and before he could really properly do that, he wound up here. and if he were smart, he would just say that. but he also is tired of talking about himself, particularly when he doesn't want to.

and reacting this way to a harmless text message is ridiculously stupid. but he also doesn't want to lie, because as alex has proven, she is good at digging up the truth. and alex snooping through his things or spying on conversations will just infuriate him. ]

I'm tired of manipulation.

[ that seems to sum it up without being a completely ridiculous ass about it. ]

It's inconsequential to the matter at hand. I can ask en masse by the end of the week, and we'll have a better starting point to figure out why we're all here. You'll know when it's posted.

[ for a moment, Alex just frowned at the message that he'd sent her, and while she recognized the way that she was being summarily dismissed (something not at all new, but that was before they lived in the same house) that wasn't the part that she focused on. no, instead she was focused on the idea of manipulating him.

letting out a low breath, alex scrolled upwards to the message she'd sent before things had gone all screwy. and then she frowned at herself. yeah, if she was him than she probably would have been pissed off too. since the two of them had been working together for so long, alex had almost forgot that part of things.

but she was willing to bet that richard hadn't.

so via a way of at least some apology, alex moved to the kitchen and made his normal cup of tea, and her own cup of coffee the way that they both liked, and then she knocked on the door of his room with her elbow. it was something that she'd done loads of times for them when they were both at her office working, on then it was her office and she hadn't needed to knock. ]

[ there is a hesitation, at the sound of knocking, and he sighs to himself. in irritation. mostly at himself, because he should have said nothing, and now he is going to have to endure alex prying, and nothing infuriates richard more than alex reagan prying into something that is absolutely none of her business.

but he has never been one to avoid conflict when it is presented at his doorstep, and so he opens the door with a slight frown, ready to tell her he would rather just not -- but he hesitates, when he sees the tea, and his frown deepens. almost irritated that now, if he refuses to talk to her, he most definitely looks like the asshole.

but he finally sighs, and steps aside to let her in.

his room is impeccably neat, because of course it is. his life had been in shambles, for the last two years, and while richard (at home) is more than a mess, he's been attempting to return to order here. for a time, anyway. books are stacked neatly and everything is in a proper place, and there is a notepad resting on his bed which most definitely has a ton of notes and observations written upon it in his ridiculously perfect handwriting.

but richard is quiet for a moment, and he leaves the door open, before accepting his tea with a slight frown. ]

I'm fine, Alex.

[ even if it's not particularly true, it probably still needs to be said. ]

[ when he does let her in, alex makes a colossal effort not to look around. it's extremely difficult for her given who she is and who he is, but she does it anyway. after all, if one is a place to apologize, then it probably wasn't a good idea to enact behavior that the other person probably thinks that you need to apologize for. so his room is given nothing more than a glance for a chair, before she just stands there with her coffee. it's too intimate to sit on his bed (even though she really wouldn't have cared if he'd sat on hers) so she just took an awkward sip of her coffee while her eyes moved over him in case he did wanted to yell or say something other than that he was fine.

his saying he was fine was like alex saying that she was fine and both of them were entirely liars when it came down to that. granted, she was adapting to this situation better than he was because it was something that she did. alex reagan was a believer, particularly when she had the evidence of her senses to back it up. this place was as real to her as the world back home even though she didn't want it to be.

but strand was the skeptic, and well he always required more proof than she did. it was probably a good thing because it meant that she could go off all gungho, and he could... be the responsible party. someone had to do it, especially around alex when she was on a story. nic wasn't here, and he was so she would keep him from getting punched (probably) and he would keep alex from doing something stupid (try to anyway.)

when she spoke, it was clear that she meant it, because alex was very good at wearing her heart on her sleeve. ]

I'm sorry, Richard. I'm really not trying to manipulate you.

[ an involuntary sigh escapes, at her statement, and he turns to sit on his bed, depositing the tea on the bedside table so he could sit a little more comfortably, resting his elbows on his knees, so he could steeple his fingers against his lips. thinking, but not about her apology. if he were being totally honest.

something has to make sense, in this mess of what has happened to them. and a nasty part of him is half-convinced that it's him, because it typically is him. from beginning to end, everything seems to revolve around him. but that doesn't explain everyone else who has been taken, either, and something of this magnitude couldn't possibly be orchestrated by someone as insignificantly stupid as warren.

but the thread of what strings them all together (they all have something to protect) is too broad. coralee, charlie, and alex had been his requirements. which would be obvious, if anyone even remotely knew him, that those were the three people he considered important. but --

he pauses, and his eyes flicker toward her, realizing he hasn't actually acknowledged her apology. ]

I said I was fine, Alex. Sit.

[ read: he does not want to talk about that at the moment, but as he's inviting her to sit, the apology has been accepted. for the time being, anyway. and strand pauses before closing his eyes to think, continuing after a hesitation: ]

. . . I know you aren't. It's fine. There are more important things to deal with.

[ there is something that has always interested alex when she watched him think. there were few people whom in her opinion, the phrase 'seeing the wheels turning' could actually apply to, and richard strand was one of them. so she didn't mind when he left her standing there for that moment. that said, she was glad when he said that she could sit down, and she sat in the other corner of his bed, pulling her knees up (because alex was wearing bombas socks, so she wasn't putting her shoes on his bed).

setting the cup of coffee carefully on her knees (one of alex's real unspoken talents was how she could do absurd things with a cup of coffee and not spill it) she just looked at him when he said that he was fine, and though she knew that he didn't want to talk about it at the moment, she felt like this was important. granted the two of them often had vastly different definitions of 'important' but she was still going to say it anyway.

one hand balanced on her coffee cup, and she sat forward a little bit, her eyes on his again. ]

No, Richard, I'm sorry. I mean it. I know back home you were the subject of the show. [ she didn't even say her show, which was a little bit of a peace offering because it was honestly their show. ] But you're more than that. You're my friend, Richard. I care about you, and it's because of way more than the show.

[ and that said, she just took another sip of her coffee, before she gives him the option for an out. ]

So, have you found anything interesting?

[ . . . that . . . is unexpected, mostly because richard had expected her to drop it, as per usual. but in classic alex reagan fashion, she presses it, and the moment she says no, richard sighs to himself, lowering his hands, because thinking about the bigger picture (which is what he wants to do) is now impossible, what with alex's lecturing.

what she says, though, takes a moment or two to sink in. and he supposes most of what she says is true, and richard really has no choice but to believe that it is true. it's simply just a matter of accepting that it is true. and richard, once she is finished, is sorely tempted to take her out.

and he will. but first: ]

It isn't a show, Alex. It was never a show.

[ while it's normally a harsh rebuke, he just says it tiredly, without much bite in his tone, and he rubs his temples once before dropping his hands into his lap. even now, with coralee being alive, richard is still where he started. not knowing exact answers. not knowing why. and while richard is a stubborn mule ninty-nine percent of the time, it is because he has to know. and it's the not knowing, for concrete purposes, a lot of the answers . . . well.

it's no longer a show. it's now a race to the finish line. with or without coralee.

richard considers that thought for a long moment before he continues, his eyes straying to glance at his tea cup. ]

But all of that aside, your relentlessly taxing companionship has been appreciated.

[ he pauses, again. ]

. . . I've found a few areas of interest, but nothing concrete, and nothing interesting as far as the network goes, aside from your post and the ones we've shown each other. Everyone is determined to settle into their newfound role without questioning why they're here.

Edited 2017-09-27 03:38 (UTC)

[ if there's one person in his life who would get the race to the finish line thing (even though there's not all that many people he actually lets into his life) it's alex. she knows how the train is moving and how it has the chance to entirely run you over especially now that they had answers that had only led to more questions. even though he has more answers to it than she does (and alex dug up those answers) there's still too many questions and too much openness to consider. especially if what simon had said was true.

yes, she knew that strand didn't believe it, and thought she was an idiot for possibly believing it, but the fact of the matter was that simon had said the dark was coming and then there may or may not have been the storm. which they'd assured her wasn't her fault but it was still a thought that alex had when she couldn't sleep at three am.

but if there was one thing that she was getting better at understanding (even if she did dig up all of the pieces of his past that she could like a dog with a phone) was that to him it wasn't just a show. it was his life, and even though it'd given him back coralee (or at least the knowledge that she was alive) it had probably done him more harm than good which was something that she honestly did regret.

however, she doesn't say anything in response to it, instead she just nods, because she knows. but strand describing their relationship as relentlessly taxing just makes her laugh, holding the coffee cup away from her so she doesn't spill it while she does so. ]

[ there's a silence, after her laugh, and he shifts to look at her, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips. but his expression is considerably lighter than before (or, at least, as light and happy as richard ever looks, which is practically never), and he allows alex a cursory roll of his eyes before he stands, to collect his teacup again. ]

Are you finished?

[ it's said dryly, as he sips his tea, to glance at his notepad, and the books he's collected on his desk.

he's ready to move on. ]

Because, like it or not, we have a problem before us that isn't going to be easy to solve.

[ good, alex definitely approve of that not angry face especially when it's being used on her, and she nods quickly once her laughing is finished. Standing up, she just grinned for a moment before she added in a highly amused tone: ]

I should put that on my business card, Dr. Strand. But hold that thought, I'll be right back.

[ quickly, she headed to her room, and came back with her own notebooks, only these ones were written with the scrawling hand of someone who had practically typed everything her entire life. a pen was tucked behind her ear before she settled back into the space on the bed, and her coffee cup was put onto the floor next to her. alex reagan has been a busy little bee, and she'd already put things into two notebooks. One was the people that she'd meant and one was stuff about people on the network. she'd been keeping her eyes out. sitting cross-legged, alex opened the notebooks around her just like she would have at the office. ]

When have I ever shied away from a problem I can't solve, Richard?

That seems to be part of your problem.

[ dryly, as he watches her situate herself with her notebooks and coffee, and he sets down his tea to cross his arms, settling to lean against the far wall, to watch her work.

and, in somewhat of a resigned tonet: ]

Tell me what you've found.

[alex does let the comment about it being her problem pass, even though she probably normally wouldn't have. but give the spat that they just had, she didn't want to start another one. besides, work was a much safer subject than their friendship, and she was going to use that as much as she could. ]

Okay, so let me preface this by saying that I know you're going to hate this, think I'm crazy because I don't have proof other than people's words and my own sight and that I'm probably an idiot for buying into whatever's saying blindly.

[ alex's met you, strand. she knows how you are and wants to avoid the twenty minutes where the two of you argue about it. at least as much as you can avoid it where strand is concerned. ]

When you were brought down, who did it? Did you talk to them? Because mine was a kid named Demyx. He's from a world that's not at all like ours. And he visits different worlds as well. [ she doesn't mention the portals because well. portals. ]

But he did something that I couldn't see any sort of illusion for, Richard. He did magic with water, forming it into a musical note.

{ he lets her talk, though he narrows his eyes slightly at her story. thinking, digesting. running through every single possibility in his head to come up with justifications as to what alex saw, did see, or will see. to challenge her, to make her come up with a better answer.

... but, as with the black tapes themselves, sometimes, the answer is just out of reach. just there, lingering outside of the edges of the light. science manifests itself in different ways, and to the naive, it presents as magic. the paranormal. and when alex tells her story, his first instinct is, indeed, to tell her she needs to look harder.

but even richard strand has doubts. has moments where he, honestly, cannot believe what he is seeing. and he has gotten better, at challenging alex's belief in the paranormal. slowly, but surely, taking her advice, to not be so quick to judge.

. . . but: ]

Magic indicates that there's no alternative explanation for what happened, Alex. [ and so he begins. ] There is one. We just may not understand it, yet, or know the answer, yet.

{ that being said, he pauses before sighing to himself, resting his head against the wall to stare at the ceiling. quite nearly petulant. ]

Granting some level of credence to the impossibility of our situation is necessary in order to get information, particularly if people are so insistent on calling whatever this is magic. But there is an answer, somewhere, that makes some level of sense to explain the impossibility of what we are seeing.

{ richard pauses again, his eyes still on the ceiling. ]

Keep going. What happened next.

[ glancing up from her notes, alex notices the way that he's narrowing his eyes at her, but it's so familiar that it doesn't bother her at all. she'd probably be more concerned if he didn't look at her like that and wonder if somehow they'd messed him up when they woke up. if this was all real of course. she was trying to remind herself that it might not be as often as she could, but she did find herself sliding into the idea that it was real, more often than not.

after all, alex was the sort of woman who liked to be able to touch things with her own hands, and in this instance, she had. more than that, she'd decided that she was going to try and actually take some of the things that strand was always pushing her to do and actually use them here so that it was more difficult for him to simply disregard what she was saying.

in the end, alex just shrugged before she responded, trying to keep the rebuttal from her tone. ]

I called it magic because that's what he calls it. Whether or not they know how it works, I didn't get from him, but everyone there seems to have an affinity for something. Demyx's is water and darkness because of course it is.

[ yep, alex was going to be amused by that because life was too short for it not to be, but then she went on with a little smile. ]

But while he was holding the note there, I did what I always do, Richard. I poked it. [ because alex was good at poking things that she shouldn't with a stick. ] It felt like water, and there was a little wavering of it, but not very much. And then I poked it in a different place where it seemed like their should have been a support and it just felt like putting my hand in a stream or something.

I think I amused him, because while I was doing it, he changed the form of the water again, first into a circle, and then into a pyramid shape.

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Video: UN: PNWSAlex

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