Corvo is sitting on a comfortable couch, the room a lot cozier than he otherwise might have had. The rats are in their rather large hutch, and Corvo pours another glass of whiskey, placing it on a low table in front of him.
He doesn't answer; it doesn't seem like Alan actually wants one. So he waits for the rest of the story.
[ Corvo is correct. Alan keeps going, clearly already having worked himself up. He's grabbing the whisky with a nod of thanks, gliding right back into his rant. His grip on the glass is tight. ]
And getting into other poeple's business? Private, closed matters that you're actually handling and they just throw a wrench in that because not only do they somehow know what happened, but they totally know the exact circumstances you were in, obviously, and they would never because they're so much better than you. It's a fucking joke, it's--- sorry, are those rats?
[ There's a brief moment where Alan very obviously debates moving in to pet one, but he either thinks the better of it or the need to complain makes him pivot. ]
[ Alan scoffs, looks down at the glass of whisky, and proceeds to drink all of it like it's a shot. ]
You want to hear the part where he threatened me or the part where he decided he knew the entirety of what I went through?
[ The nearest chair gets an unceremonious fall as Alan just plops right next to Corvo. The messenger bag is set down and he launches right back into it. ]
I'm done. I reached out, apologized, thanked him and tried to make peace with him and his response was to shit all over it.
Wasn't memorable? [ Should Alan be getting annoyed at Corvo? Probably not. But Alan is in 'annoyed by everything mode' currently, and his scoff says as much. ]
He's got the world's shittiest attitude and the most punchable face.
[ He is hunkers down for a proper bitch session. ]
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I have alcohol in my room.
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[ knock, knock, Corvo. Alan is going to practically burst into your place whether you like it or not. ]
Can I ask you something? [ He's going to anyway. ] What the fuck is with smug wardens lording the fact that they graduated over you?
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He doesn't answer; it doesn't seem like Alan actually wants one. So he waits for the rest of the story.
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And getting into other poeple's business? Private, closed matters that you're actually handling and they just throw a wrench in that because not only do they somehow know what happened, but they totally know the exact circumstances you were in, obviously, and they would never because they're so much better than you. It's a fucking joke, it's--- sorry, are those rats?
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[He takes a drink, gesturing to him.]
Which warden pissed you off?
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[ There's a brief moment where Alan very obviously debates moving in to pet one, but he either thinks the better of it or the need to complain makes him pivot. ]
You know Arthur?
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[He raises a brow.]
What did he do?
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You want to hear the part where he threatened me or the part where he decided he knew the entirety of what I went through?
[ The nearest chair gets an unceremonious fall as Alan just plops right next to Corvo. The messenger bag is set down and he launches right back into it. ]
I'm done. I reached out, apologized, thanked him and tried to make peace with him and his response was to shit all over it.
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Was it a physical fight?
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[ He kind of wishes it was. Another punch would be satisfying, even if he knows he'd loose that battle. ]
You know him, right? Is he always such a fucking dick?
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[He sits back.]
Or if I did, it wasn't memorable.
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He's got the world's shittiest attitude and the most punchable face.
[ He is hunkers down for a proper bitch session. ]