[PSL] time travel, time travel

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Martin had always known that Lukas would kill him in the end. If not along the way, then surely at the end, once he'd gotten what he wanted out of Martin, whatever that turned out to be. When the Lonely rose up to swallow him, he'd accepted his impending death with ... what?

What did he have left, really? Numbness, mostly. A hallucination of Jon in the Lonely, looking for him, but - but that was impossible, ridiculous. His mind playing cruel tricks. He settled himself down in the frigid surf, knees drawn up close to his chest, unshed tears frozen to his cheeks and lashes.

And then. A door. A door that shouldn't exist, that couldn't exist. That he shouldn't take at all. The Lonely was terrible, yes, but it was quiet, and it was peaceful. Martin was aligned enough with it by now to very nearly enjoy it, in a strange and terrible way. The Spiral would be infinitely worse than this quiet beach.

But ... it was hope, too. In a strange way. Hope enough that Martin found himself turning the door handle and stepping through, leaving the false comfort of the Lonely behind him.

The transition was unpleasant. Long. But Martin couldn't remember it after; he only remembered stumbling out through the door of a supply closet somewhere deep in the Archives, blinking up at the dim bulbs that pretended to be sufficient. What time was it? Had he escaped? Where were Lukas and Elias now?

And where was Jon? ]

Comments

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Sorry, Jon. Martin doesn't even look surprised. Just ... defeated, and a little more see-through than he was a moment ago.

He picks up the cup naturally enough. It all seems perfectly normal, and his fingers don't pass through it or anything. He even takes a sip, and the level of tea left in the cup dips accordingly. But the waitress stares with utter blankness, not seeing anything the least bit unusual. ]

"This is a real funny joke to you, isn't it?"

TIM TIME

[eyediot]

[After the... incident at the cafe, Jon is shaken. He thought he was getting better, thinking more clearly. He knew for sure he had proof of what was going on, but now...

He has to talk to someone. He's still on the fence about Sasha. He doesn't trust Elias, even without what future-Martin told him (and was that even real?), and this current timeline Maryin is. A little too eager to please. No, Jon only trusts one person to tell things to him honestly.

He waits, works up the nerve for a day or so. Until he finally approaches Tim privately.

Deep breath. It will be fine.]

Tim. If you have a moment after work, I need you to come to my flat to check something.

[kayakking]

[It's not at the desks, the cluster of Assistants is likely far less private than the sort of conversation Jon had worked up to was going to provide. So, Tim is sorting through some of the Unclassified box, digitizing what he can and making a small, small pile of the rare few that corrupt immediately after transcription.

So there he is, when the Head Archivist pops around the corner, a laptop across his knees and a sheaf of old files at his feet, and a thermos of coffee in hand. The first move is to hastily screw on the cap of the thermos before that lecture gets going.

The second is to close his mouth where his jaw had dropped a little.

Jon had been getting better. He really had. Hell, if he'd known sullen cops were his type, he'd have hooked him up ages ago.

So this... backslide into weird wasn't exactly welcome.]

Hullo boss, nice to see you. I've been having a great day. [The words are just pointed enough, each carefully enunciated as a normal people making normal greetings thing.]

And I am going to need SO much more explanation about that.

[eyediot]

It's.... It's not.

[There's the sneaking of an idea, a thought he hasn't wanted to entertain since Martin showed up. He showed up immediately after an encounter with Michael, the Spiral. The entity of madness. Ostensibly, surely, Martin had to talk to and interact with others to get the food that's been in their fridge, the neighbors watching him come and go. He hasn't... He hasn't just imagined coming home to meals already freshly cooked.

But someone not seeing his friend here, plain as day, so clearly, is sending him... well. Spiraling.

Jon swallows thickly, then takes a bit of cash out of his wallet and sets it down, almost double for a large tip.]

I think. I should be leaving.

[He hopes Martin doesn't hate him for this. He hopes Martin comes with him. If this waitress thinks he's crazy, being as old as he is with an 'imaginary friend', he doesn't want to make it worse asking the 'friend' to leave with him.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Did he have to interact with other people, though? Self checkouts are everywhere nowadays. And if he were unscrupulous, he could simply steal what he needed, or leave the money on the til and go. He had always been so insistent on cash, after all ...

Martin jolts with surprise as Jon stands, moving to match him. ]

-- Jon? Wait, you haven't even - what about dinner?

[ He moves to catch up with Jon, not wanting to be left behind.

(The waitress brightens at the tip and sort of waves the crazy guy off. Whatever.) ]

[eyediot]

[Gods, he wants to say something about that open thermos. An open thermos! In the archives with statements all over his lap and laptop and--

It's not what he's here about. Focus.]

Right - Yes, I'm. It's good to see you too. [Remember when Tim was a ... perhaps not "close", but at least good terms friend? Jon finds himself missing that more these days. Maybe this is a step back towards that, being open and... Explaining things.

But not here in the Archives.]

Sorry. There's... Been a lot. I don't know that I'd call this work related? It might be. Could be. But- I really... could use some advice. And I trust you.

[eyediot]

[He does slow when he hears Martin calling after him.]

We can - I'll order delivery or, or something.

[Now he feels bad, Martin likes this cafe, right? It's not too far back to his flat, but he just feels dread in the pit of his stomach.]

...She couldn't see you, Martin.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ He does like this café. It's quiet and pleasant and ... sometimes people can see him.

But not today, apparently. He falls into step next to Jon miserably, hanging his head. ]

... Yes. That - it - it's not the first time it's happened to me.

[eyediot]

What?

[He sounds absolutely shocked by that, forgetting momentarily that he may be spiraling into madness.]

That's... Martin.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Martin can only shrug helplessly. Madness isn't high on his list for things he thinks Jon is concerned about, so he assumes that shock is for a different reason. ]

I - I haven't been stealing or anything. Tesco's got those automated tellers nowadays, and if I have to use a cashier and they can't see me, I leave money.

[eyediot]

[THAT DOESN'T HELP HIS WORRY HE'S LOSING HIS MIND.]

...I don't like this. [Yeah he's just gonna open his door and let them in.]

Is that how you've been getting on since you got here? Just accepting people who don't see you and using the automateds?

[curriculum_fictae]

It's - it's how I've been getting on for the last six months, Jon. Even before I came here.

[ He enters quietly, his feet barely disturbing the rug on the floor. ]

[eyediot]

[Yeah, he's seeing that. And he's suspicious in a way he wasn't before.]

How does something like that happen?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ God. Martin just - makes a strangled, broken sort of noise. Can he tell Jon that he died? That Martin was heartbroken and desperate? No, he can't possibly. ]

I've told you about Peter Lukas, right? Avatar of the Lonely?

[eyediot]

Yes, you have.

[Door gets locked behind them and Jon... settles. He settles for possibly only getting a half answer - as much as he appreciates this Martin and wants him safe, he also knows he hasn't answered all of Jon's questions, not entirely.

So he settles in for what may be a rough evening and sits at the couch.]

What about him?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Has Jon always locked the door like that? It's London, so surely the answer is yes, but - something feels wrong. Why is Jon looking at him like that? Is he suspicious? Why?

Martin slowly sinks into the couch next to him, making it shift under his weight. ]

I ... I made a deal with him. To protect the surviving members of the Institute. I'd be his assistant, and he'd stop disappearing my coworkers. He wanted me to align with the Lonely so that he could - could use me.

[eyediot]

[He listens, taking that in. The Lonely, the Lukases... I remembers a few of the statements. Of the statement givers feeling so completely and utterly alone.

What had that piece of tombstone read?

Forgotten]

And. That made you... What? Invisible to people but not everyone?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Forgotten. Forsaken. Alone.

Martin rubs at his face. ]

I - yes? I think it was - was more of a side effect. It wasn't consistent, so - so at first I thought some people were just being a bit rude. But then it happened more often, and ... and at some point, no one could. Not unless you were on Archive staff already.

[ Or Georgie, who's flat out immune to at least the passive effect, if not the active use of it. ]

[kayakking]

[Jon could see the waspish comment forming behind Tim's eyes as he tumbled into the explanation and the deferral of that explanation all at once. And then he hits him with that last sentence.

God. God!! He had no idea, until that exact moment, how much he had wanted to hear that. Needed to hear that. Just that.

Something angry just.. deflates and Tim sits up a bit straighter, setting the thermos on the ground.]

So on a scale of 'There's this mole' to 'Bring a shovel' what are we looking at here.

[eyediot]

[Jon rubs at his hair a bit, trying to take that in.

So it's something to do with the Archive, with The Eye. Great. Good. More things he can't actually prove.]

What else?

[eyediot]

[He'd prepared for Tim to have some comeback, some snappy, sarcastic cutting remark and having some kind of fight over this.

But just like that... Tim agrees? That.. helps. It helps ease this some, but he's still a little on edge.]

Maybe 'Don't tell anyone your location for a few hours' level.

[curriculum_fictae]

Wh - what d'you mean, "what else"?

[kayakking]

[Both of Tim's brows raise at that.

And well... THIS is probably more like what he's expecting: Tim holds out both hands wide in a 'are you serious?' pose.]

You DO know how that sounds, right? Right?

[eyediot]

There has to be more to this. I don't--

[Hey Martin, his hands sure are trembling as he runs fingers through his hair. He might be losing it.]

I'm... Afraid I might be going mad.

[eyediot]

[In true Jon Sims fashion, he stares at Tim.]


What?