[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

[secreteary]

Tim? Tim, whose voices are those? That's Jon, and- Tim, whose voice is that-

[Tim if he had it in him, he would throttle you tomorrow when he sees you]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ While Tim ... texts Martin and generally deals with that, alternate Martin heads back for the living room. He thought - maybe - ]

I think it's coming from under the couch.

[ He says this as he gets down on his hands and knees, searching for it. Despite how infuriating Tim's general existence is, the banality of ... all of that has been grounding, at least. He feels infinitely more normal than he had even an hour ago. ]

[kayakking]

[Tim's at least interesting to watch in the process. The smirk of Tim being a right arse through those first rapid fire communique dissolves into leaning into one fist, phone flat on the table and pecking at words one at a time. How do you even give a summary of what he'd just heard? Of... the odd brush of chill he gets even now as a future Martin bustles by. Shit.

Whatever. Word salad. Present Martin will at least be motivated by petty spite if not by his blazing sincerity and eloquence.]

Sure you're just not hearing things?

[Is Tim's contribution to THIS room.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ It's a bit unpleasant, isn't it? Even with Jon having drawn him back into sharp relief, future Martin still has this uncanny knack of just appearing next to Tim, with no transition between there and where he was before. He's like some poorly coded video game character who disappears as soon as you exceed the draw distance. ]

No, I distinctly heard a click. It has to be here somewhere.

[ But he can't seem to find it, so ... he sighs a little and peeks at Tim's mobile. Given those faces he was just making, Martin's certain the man was up to no good. ]

How, ah. How did that go?

[kayakking]

[There is a sharp inhale to speak to the startle hearing Martin suddenly beside him. Tim recovers quickly enough, though.]

Given exactly how little is appropriate to go by text? Just peachy.

So, he's coming round the flat tomorrow.

[Which makes the snippet of conversation of present Martin squirming future Martin can see... well, it gives a beautiful, horrible context.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Well. Martin would feel bad, but that little executive decision makes him freeze up with horror. ]

Why? What - what is that even going to accomplish? N-nothing good can - can possibly come of us seeing each other!

[ In fact, Martin can think of one very specific reason why he doesn't want to look at his own face. ]

[eyediot]

[Yeah, Jon is still searching. He's not really listening to this conversation, so he misses the whole thing about current-Martin coming to his flat tomorrow. No, he is on a mission. A mission that requires his ears to be focusing very carefully.

He's made his way into the kitchen, listening intently and... Then down on the floor...

His voice does come out muffled because well. He's on his hands and knees on the floor of his kitchen, head against the floor looking under the fridge.] Oh for-- Really!

I found it!

[He gets back up, looking at his fridge frustrated. Then starts trying to pull it out.

He couldn't carry a pipe, why does he think he can move a fully packed fridge??] It's behind here.

[kayakking]

[As Jon is going to FIND THE RECORDER HELL OR HIGH WATER, Tim is mostly focused on Martin. To whom he gives an incredulous look.]

Because you're not stupid? Look, the very fact he took me at some part of my word speaks volumes and if I don't bring proof? At BEST, he goes to Elias with me being in on Jon's Paranoid Harassment Campaign.

Make that the worst, too.

[And then there's the saddest scrape of the fridge barely moving even slightly.] What is he...

[curriculum_fictae]

[ The mention of his past self talking to Elias makes him shut up pretty quickly. He would, wouldn't he? Yes, at this stage of things, he absolutely would report this to his boss if he were concerned enough. That had been what he'd done with the stalking, after all.

Martin takes a deep breath. And hates his life even more. ]

F - fine. Fine, okay, that's - extremely likely. And if Elias finds out what's going on, we are all dead. Or worse.

[ He's certain it's some form of or worse and he has no intention of finding out what.

... He also pauses as he hears the fridge scrape. Turns, a bit, and spies Jon ... ah. ]

What are you doing?

[eyediot]

[It barely moved half an inch. Jon isn't looking at them, he's keeping his head down because he refuses to acknowledge any failure of his own.]

It's behind the fridge.

[kayakking]

Why the hell do you-?

No, hang on. I just remembered: I don't want to know at all.

[Tim still pushes up from the table and angles over to look. It... ... one of the Institute ones? Why....?]

Okay. Sure. I pull, you use your scrawny little bird arms to grab it, yeah?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Martin drifts over behind Tim, still making all the faces at him. Then, sparing a few faces for Jon too. God, Jon, sometimes it is very hard to love you.

It's also very hard to love you right now, tape recorder. As much as he's usually glad to see you. ]

You're going to knock it over.

[eyediot]

No, he won't. Tim's good at this sort of thing. He's the one when this sort of thing happened in the break room. "Oh my charger cord dropped behind this cabinet", or "Tim, help move the microwave so we can clean behind it."

[He does grab a broom though. He's not so stupid as to try and just. Reach for it. No, once there's adequate space, he'll use the broom to nudge it out into the open.]

[kayakking]

Right? They just use me for my body.

Anyways, if you're worried, grab the other side.

[With that put-on sigh, he grins and finds a good angle. Bracing against the counter, he gives a good heave.]

[curriculum_fictae]

Fine, fine ...

[ Martin obediently goes to the other side, then, and heaves. ]

[eyediot]

[Jon expectantly watches, and when there's finally enough space, starts nudging the recorder out into the open floor.]

But why - [God it's hard to maneuver this thing.] Behind the fridge - of all places.

[kayakking]

[Okay, this IS starting to get heavy. There's the slide of something inside of the fridge travelling down the shelf and plunking against the closed door.]

Aaannnnny day now.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Martin huffs and puffs on his end, just kind of leaning with his shoulder up against the fridge. ]

It - it might be me? It was following me around ...

[eyediot]

And...

Got it!

[It's free! And still inexplicably rolling. God how much tape is on this thing?]

Thank you. I don't... really know if it would've been worth leaving it there.

[kayakking]

[Following him... Nope, nope pay attention, Stoker.

Angling a look to make sure Jon's clear, he gives a short, strained nod, voice tight.] Okay, ease it back, niiice and slow.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Don't ask questions until you're actually ready for the answers, Tim.

Martin just makes a dimly distressed noise, anyway, and levers the fridge back. ]

R-right - okay -

[secreteary]

[can a knock be both polite and nervous? because that's the nature of the knock that comes at a fairly awkward moment.]

[eyediot]

[Picking the recorder up, something sort of pricks at the back of his mind. Jon looks to the door a second or so before the knock and narrows his eyes at it.]

...Why is he here now?

[He carefully steps around the two as they put the fridge back, trying to steer clear and sets the recorder on the table as he goes to the door.]

Martin? You're-- Why are you here at this hour?

[kayakking]

[Tim leans against the nice cool metal of the fridge for a moment, only frowning a little bit as Jon goes by.]

What? No, he's stopping by tomorrow.

[secreteary]

[Martin jumps a little, almost stepping back.]

Jon! Oh, I-I was...expecting Tim... He, um, he sent me some texts? About you, and I sort of got too worried to sleep, so I thought maybe Tim was still awake and I'd just...come. Here.