[ Thanks, team, you're the best. Between Jon and Tim (and Martin), he ends up collapsed in the general pile with not even a bump on his head, courtesy of his friends being beneath him and not the hardwood floor. Whatever's just happened hasn't killed him, at least. The creeping transparency in his hands isn't suddenly destroying him, nor does seeing his alternate self seem to have immediately resulted in a time paradox (though the clear hands are, perhaps, an unfortunately timed side effect of his stress.) Since he can't see himself while he's unconscious, he gets a respite there.
His past self isn't so lucky, though. Present Martin grabs hold of one of those icicle-clear hands - and something cold goes through his fingers, rippling up his arm and going straight to his head. A voice curls in close, leaving fractal frost patterns along his ear and neck. Look at that, it says in a voice that both does and does not belong to himself. They've already replaced you with the new and improved model. And Jon, well--
The voice laughs unpleasantly. Jon's fallen for him, hasn't he?
(On the floor, future Martin groans a bit and lifts his head. Not daring to open his eyes again, but coming round.) ]
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His past self isn't so lucky, though. Present Martin grabs hold of one of those icicle-clear hands - and something cold goes through his fingers, rippling up his arm and going straight to his head. A voice curls in close, leaving fractal frost patterns along his ear and neck. Look at that, it says in a voice that both does and does not belong to himself. They've already replaced you with the new and improved model. And Jon, well--
The voice laughs unpleasantly. Jon's fallen for him, hasn't he?
(On the floor, future Martin groans a bit and lifts his head. Not daring to open his eyes again, but coming round.) ]