[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

[eyediot]

Well... Good. I'm. Very glad to hear that.

[Let him go die in peace.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Nope. Sorry, Jon. ]

Are you uncomfortable with me being here?

[eyediot]

Not... really.

[He can't properly express it, hilarious given what he does all day.]

It just... It feels nice. Having someone here and know that I'm not... crazy.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Oh. Martin's expression softens for a moment. He raises a hand as if to put it on Jon's shoulder and ... stops himself. Hesitating. ]

No. You're not crazy. Most of the things you think you're seeing are real. And the rest still make sense.

[eyediot]

[Of course there's always the chance this Martin is a hallucination or delusion brought about by paranoia and intense seclusion and the nature of statements he's been reading as well as the mystery of Gertrude's murder and Basira not contacting him anymore to bring anymore of Gertrude's tapes and Tim hating him now and Martin at the office being jumpier than usual and Sasha being... not... Sasha...

Who knows. The cups go on the drying rack and he dries his hand.]

...Thank you, Martin.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ He is terribly translucent in spots, after all. Maybe he really is a figment of Jon's imagination. It's not like they've really touched each other, right?

Though ... Martin hesitates again. And this time he closes the gap between them, laying his hand very lightly on Jon's shoulder. His fingers are icy and cold. ]

Of course. We're - I - I like to think you're my friend, Jon.

[eyediot]

[That feels real and solid enough. But Martin's words catch him a little off guard, a little... out of breath.]

...Yes. yes, I'm. I think that too.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Solid. Cold, but absolutely physical. Not a ghost or a hallucination.

He manages a small smile. ]

I'm so glad, Jon. I -

[ He swallows thickly. ]

I thought I'd never see you again.

[eyediot]

[OH NO... MARTIN SOUNDS LIKE HE MIGHT CRY. SHIT HE'S BAD AT THIS.]

Well... At the very least I can promise I'll be here.

[You know until he goes down in the tunnels again and gets framed for killing Leitner but that's a problem for future-Jon.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Look. Martin is here to hopefully help when that happens. For now, he focuses on trying not to cry. ]

Do you? Do you really promise, Jon?

[eyediot]

I-- [Well sure put him on the spot.

He flounders for a second, before really, really looking at Martin.]

...I can promise to do my best.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ He's so soft and hopeful, while simultaneously uncertain. Can Jon promise, really? Can he?

No ... Martin doesn't think he can. There's always something that goes wrong, it seems, and it's all too far out of their control. So while there's hope in his face, it's a tiny flicker compared to the aching uncertainty of the rest of him. The pale translucence of his body doesn't do much to ameliorate that effect, really; he just looks that much more like a ghost. ]

I suppose that's all I can ask for.

[eyediot]

[It bothers him - not in a negative way, but in the way that's worried about him.]

And I hope my best is good enough.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Ah. That's. Martin winces a bit. ]

Not ... not historically, but maybe if we cheat.

[eyediot]

[A GUFFAW!!! And sputter, he is so OFFENDED.]

You don't quite have to put me down like that!

[curriculum_fictae]

S-sorry! I'm just speaking from experience!

[eyediot]

[JUST BECAUSE IT'S TRUE YOU SHOULDN'T SAY IT]

Well.. I guess I'll just have to do better than my best, won't I?

[curriculum_fictae]

Yes, that's. That's where using time travel to cheat comes in.

[eyediot]

Isn't that generally frowned upon in some video games?

[Look he may fancy himself an intellectual and focuses mostly in nonfiction, but it doesn't mean he doesn't know what his own generation is doing.]

[curriculum_fictae]

I really, really don't care what the consequences are. As long as you're safe.

[eyediot]

...Well that doesn't matter much if you aren't safe as well.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Martin turns away lightly at that. ]

No. It doesn't matter what happens to me.

[eyediot]

... It does to me.

[curriculum_fictae]

Why?

[ His words are flat and limp. ]

[eyediot]

[God.... Martin why.]

Because I care about you.