Alan Wake
| Alan Wake | |
|---|---|
| |
| "Alice? Where are you?" | |
| STATUS: ALIVE | |
| Years active | 2010-2023 |
| Occupation | Writer |
| Fighting style | Flashlight |
| Favorite food | Misery |
| Major arcana | IX The Hermit |
| Charisma | 13 (+1) |
| Drops | A Hit Novel |
My name is Alan Wake. I'm a writer. I've been stuck in the Dark Place for thirteen years and this is a cry for help. I've found a computer that has access to this website with a login already on here. I don't know who's account this is, but I thank them for letting me use it. I need help. My wife, Alice, is still out there, being pursued by Mr. Scratch, my evil double with my face. I need to get out. I need to save her. I've been writing manuscript pages for as long as I can remember. But I feel like I'm forgetting something. I'm always forgetting something. I keep having senses of déjà vu. This is all a bad dream. This website isn't real. Am I real? I don't know. I've got to find a way out.
Fortnite
Following a typical battle royale pattern, I was placed onto an island with ninty-nine other people, desperately trying to achieve my objective – a victory royale – for some urgent reason I couldn’t remember. I’d been driving too fast through Tilted Towers. I’d seen the gamers too late. I ran them over and they died. I was convinced I'd be third-partied, and I would never reboot Alice. Suddenly, their bodies were gone.
Catchphrase
"GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE."