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You keep your eyes locked on the anomaly as you check on Ashton. She's glancing down at some scratches on the floor that almost look like writing.
"it scratched something on the floor. same 'handwriting' as what's on the walls."
You kneel down to get a better look at the message. Its nails were sharp enough to carve neat little letters
<span class="mu-i">day 12000 or day 10000? day 18? cant remember anymore dont want to remember</span>
<span class="mu-i">they dont remember me why would they she moved on my parents moved on the town moved on</span>
<span class="mu-i">worthless punk like me isnt worth searching for anyways of course of course</span>
<span class="mu-i">scratch the walls scratch the walls need to write mind isn't what it was mind wasnt</span>
It devolves into incoherent noise after the last line. Hm. It doesn't want to remember yet it scratches messages to itself on the walls and floor? It's almost like it's trying to convince itself that it wants to be forgotten. It DID censor any information about itself on ABNOWATCH.
No wonder why NOWHERE'S SOMMELIER wanted to give the anomaly some of its wine.
"Alright, got everything cleaned up? "yep, look around."
You have to admit, the room does look a lot better now. Aside from some residual frost on the walls and floor, the cell looks about as good as it can be. You didn't notice it at first but the air's gotten warmer as well. The anomaly seems to be a bit more relaxed now that the snow is gone.
Good, good, that's one task down. You decide it's probably a good idea to, uh, 'loosen up' the anomaly before you try to talk to it. You dig through your satchel, and you pull out a plastic bottle filled with half a sample's worth of the stuff.
You didn't exactly want to hand the thing a whole bucket of wine, so you filled an old water bottle with some before you entered the cell.
You toss the bottle over to the anomaly. There's a subtle shift in its posture as it looks down at what you tossed over.
It reaches its hand down to grab the bottle. It sniffs at it for a moment, as if trying to determine if it is safe. After a few moments of awkward silence, you hear...the sound of plastic being crushed. Did it. Did it just eat the bottle?
"heh." A weak laugh escapes Ashton. "i guess it doesn't care about microplastics, huh?"
"More like macroplastics." You roll your eyes. You might as well try to find some humor in all of this.
LOST SINCE 199X slowly turns to face the two of you. Its face is still obscured by its long, matted black hair, so you can't make out its expression. There's something different in its posture now. Its arms loosely hang by its sides, and a low, distorted noise that almost sounds like a chuckle croaks out of its throat.
Okay. Maybe it softened up some. "Ashton? Should we try to...talk to it?"
Ashton responds with a curt nod. "sure but keep your guard up. who should talk to it first?"
"Me, probably." You clear your throat before taking a cautious step towards the anomaly.
"Hey." You keep your voice low and calm. "It's me, Vincent."
