curriculum_fictae | [PSL] time travel, time travel

[PSL] time travel, time travel

[ 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? ]

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[There isn't the ache on Tim's side, just a brightening at watching the enthusiasm. That's... unexpectedly cute? That's definitely cute.

... And two of them, at least, shouldn't be left alone tonight anyway. And by what he walked into? Probably shouldn't be left alone with each other either.]

You know? [It's mild, honestly fond and a little weary, coming down from... everything that was.] I'm absolutely knackered. If it's not an imposition...

[for the first time this whole night (and probably in a while beyond that), Martin brightens considerably.]

I'll go get some changes of clothes for everyone!

[back to the bedroom he goes!]

[Jon watches him go, then sighs once and moves to put the towel he took and lay it on the couch. Then sits on it. He dares you to say something, Tim.. No getting the couch wet, and off his feet. Checkmate.]

All right.

[crap he left his socks and shoes in the other room. But they're also soaked, so they can stay in there for all he cares right now. And he's about to be in dry clothes for the night so these he's wearing can dry. He already ate at Tim's a little bit ago, so... What is there to do?]

Guess this is good a time as any to discuss the other matter.

[He gives Jon a bit of a smirk at the spark of stubborn challenge in the other man's eyes. Then... has to give a tired pause at the very formal opener. As much as Tim feels like he should know what Jon's on about, the wheels in his head don't get much traction at this very moment.

He rubs a hand over his face, and clutches the towel back around himself as it starts to slip his shoulders.]

Other matter?

[ Algric takes one of the towels for himself, carefully drying his hair and what he can of his own clothes. Then he comes to hover around Jon, frowning down at his feet. He really, really thought those were worse off...

But he’s glad to see Martin brighten. He gets it. That need to be helpful or be completely ignored. ]

What - what other matter?

[Okay. Okay with that reaction, he'll feel bad bringing all this down talking about the tunnels and destroying the Institute.

So instead, Jon gestures to both Algric and Martin, shifting his foot so Algric can look at it better. It was definitely worse off. Miraculous how fast the human body can heal, isn't it?]

When's the last proper meal you both had?

[ The question catches Algric off guard; he instinctively surges forward to answer first. ]

O-oh, well, I did have dinner started back at your place —

[ Poor dinner. He sure hopes that Jon remembered to turn off the stove. He would fuss about that, but just as he goes to do so, he realises something that makes him go pale. Paler. ]

I’m - I’m rather full. Myself.

[Jon catches Algric's eye at that. 'Rather full'? They hadn't eaten whatever Algric was making but--

And eventually, you'll find that you don't really ... get nourishment out of real food any more.

A sliver of worry worms its way into his expression, one hand hesitantly raising to ...To do what here?

It's not his place to open that can in front of the others; he'll let Algric unpack that if he wants.]

All right. So. Martin?

[who is now walking back into the living room with three sets of sleepwear]

Hm?

[he's bothered everyone enough already. if it's going to be any trouble...]

I don't know. Are you hungry? Tim?

[There's interplay there, but damn if he understands it. And at the moment, can't be arsed to wade through it. It's just, a little mental checkbox gets ticked, as if Jon is being delicate...

Later, then.

Martin's arrival forestalls all of that, Tim brightens at the prospect of being dry and warm again above all else.]

God, Martin, you are a king. [He is eagerly reaching out for one of those pairs of clothes.] Annnnd nope. Just ate. Thinking zero percent about food.

[ Bless you, Jon, for being subtle once in your goddamn life. Algric leaves the can of worms mercifully unopened, tucked away for when they aren’t all clinging to each other for comfort.

Algric had tugged the scarf down to look at Jon’s feet, but he carefully sets it back into place before turning towards Martin. He accepts a dry pyjama set gratefully, without looking at which one he ends up in. ]

But - but breakfast sounds lovely. We could all have a nice quiet morning together. After we’ve had a chance to sleep.

[ He’s already planning to cook, not realising that Jon will beat him to it. ]

[Jon is focused on plopping the first aid kit Martin brought on the first trip down next to him. Since it isn't as bad, he likely won't need much help with it, or anything as heavy as before. Just some light wrappings so they don't get in bad shape again.]

Sleep... does sound good. [His only helpful contribution now that his hands are busy.]

[all the guests take turns to use the bathroom to change into their provided sleepwear, and hang their wet clothes to (hopefully) dry overnight on the shower curtain rod.

Martin, in the meantime, is busying himself with setting up the air mattress, putting on the sheets especially meant for the occasions of its use, retrieving spare pillows and blankets. he smiles to himself through each task.

color blossoms in him the whole time, and he gives off less chill. there is a transparency to his edges in the view of anyone looking at him, and he would certainly be cooler to the touch than most people, but it's clearly a massive improvement that he himself has no awareness of.

fluffing one last pillow, he turns to everyone:]

Ready and waiting.

[after a moment, a look of uncertainty crosses his face.]

Are you sure about this? All of us together? I could go and give you all more room...

You could, but I, for one, am looking forward to being warm again.

[Not that he isn't, and not that some of the supernatural freeze to the air hasn't significantly lessened... but he's humming a little ditty that's several songs stitched together as he claims a pile of blankets near the edge of the bed.]

Also, it's your flat. That means you get to stay dry and warm too, you know.

[ Algric is seated on the edge of the pull out couch for a moment himself, turned away from Martin so that he doesn't pass out again. He's just ... quietly very pleased to see this particular pyjama set again? Oh, he still had it in his own timeline, but it had lost all its colour. This t-shirt is still a lovely pale blue, and it's ...

It's nice. To be here in the past, before all these terrible things happened, with Tim and Jon close and his younger self doing better. ]

[Jon's getting one more glass of water and taking a quick stock of where things are in Martin's kitchen for himself. For no reason. But while the clothes are Martin's, and Tim's an average build, the clothes are practically hanging off Jon.

He realizes if people are sleeping on the air mattress and pull out couch, he doesn't wanna think about who's sleeping where until the exact moment it has to be thought about. That way only leads badly.]

Agreed. Let that room dry out a bit, get some hopefully restful sleep. A bit like college again, honestly.

Edited 2020-08-20 00:24 (UTC)

Wouldn't know.

[there's an awkward moment of standing and waiting for someone else to make the first move. to fill the silence (and genuinely offer)]

Cannnnnn I get anyone anything? I could have gotten that water for you.

Nah, I'm good here.

[Speaking of, while the awkwardness of everyone waiting for the next first move, Tim snags the end by the simple criteria of it looks like the fluffiest pillow - and needing to sleep on his side. He settles to his spot with possibly annoying, casual ease.]

And Jon, get off your damn feet.

[As an icebreaker, Algric and Martin can arrange themselves accordingly.]

I'm - I'm fine too. I'm just tired, honestly.

[ He sort of. Sits there blindfolded, head tilted lightly towards Martin. Wondering how they are going to do this. Should they make Jon lie down first and then just follow? Or?

Actually, Tim seems to have the right idea. Algric just ... carefully settles down next to Tim, leaving plenty of room for Jon to lie down next (and have a Martin on each arm) or focus on just Martin tonight. Either way. ]

Stop using your arm. [It's the immediate response as he cleans up his own glass. Jon's gotten a good idea of how things are set up and he thinks he can cook without waking anyone up in the morning.

Tim's already grabbed one side and Algric after him so. Jon smiles at Martin with a little shrug and climbs in after. It feels wrong to just... only be on the side of one Martin after everything he'd said before. And then looks up at Martin again, holding one hand out to him. Come on, get in here.]

[oh. oh his heart. it's going to explode. he's going to keel over and die from being quietly overwhelmed. he barely ever dared to dream that Jon would ever hold out his hand, to take it and offering space next to in order to sleep with.

Martin moves forward slowly, unsure, and softly takes Jon's hand. he just stands there a focuses on the feeling, trying to memorize this moment and carve it in his mind. his hand, his whole body loses its Lonely cold and warms against Jon's.

his movements are slow and purposeful when he walks forward and gingerly starts climbing onto the air mattress, like anything too sudden would break this new reality, watching Jon the whole time.]

[He can feel that nervous energy from Martin, which.. Understandable but he wishes he could do something about it? But he can feel Martin getting warmer, which is a good sign.

Once Martin's in and they're all settled, Jon shifts so he can pull a blanket up and. Realizes he's sandwiched between both the Martins. And honestly? It's not the worst. He thinks he hears something but then he shifts again and yeah, it's just the noise of the air mattress under the four of them.

Jon takes one deep breath and sighs it, relaxed and settles his head into the pillow, still holding Martin's hand and his back comfortably against Algric.

This is... Nice.]

[ This is not quite how he pictured sharing a bed with Jon, and yet. Thi is perfect? Just a different sort of perfect, and. He wonders if he's ever felt this overwhelmingly happy in this entire life. Certainly, it's not something he's ever experienced as an adult. Being here with Jon, able to sense that his younger self is safe for now, and Tim is alive and breathing behind him ...

Yes. A different sort of perfect indeed.

He's too far gone to be anything but chilly, even now, but the cold is reduced to a pleasant coolness, at least. It might even be nice, given there's four of them in this bed. He curls in closer to Jon's back, eyes closed beneath his blindfold. Then ... he reaches back as well, fumbling for Tim's hand. ]

Hm?

[Tim stretches out as the other's settle in, getting himself arranged. It's... comfortable. Seems right anyway. As much there looms an overwhelming amount to even begin to sort out tomorrow, there's this at least. Those idiots curled up and snagging a bit of comfort wherever it can be salvaged in this mess.

Turns out, they just needed to stop talking long enough to NOT eat their own feet for a little bit.

- And he actually doesn't exactly parse Algric's gesture, assuming he was fumbling for a bit more blanket to curl up in, and it's- with some surprise when their hands meet and Algric's wrap around his.

He's... still for a second, looking at the broad back in front of him.

And gives an unseen smile and relaxes, settling against the cool, soft body next to him, more than happy to have his arm drawn across Algric's side. After all, comfort where it comes...]

[As comforting and comfortable as this pile is... It surprisingly takes Jon a while to fall asleep. Too unused to sharing beds with people and a little too on edge. What was almost a fight with Tim earlier in the night to the anxiety of both Algric and Tim coming to check on Martin to everything they walked into. His migraine and... having a fair idea of what's continuing to happen to himself. His mind won't stop running, even when he finally does find sleep. Weird dreams that leave Jon shifting and turning.

He lasts about an hour before he's awake again. And cramped. He looks at Martin in front of him, twists his head to look at Algric and Tim behind him. Decides then and there he's going to do whatever he has to to protect them. They deserve kind nights like this.

But he also can't sleep. He can't remember what his dream was, exactly, but the strangeness and underlying fear lingers. So he lays there, listening to them all sleep and breathe and be alive for a little while. He isn't sure how much time passes before his leg is cramped in a bad way. Jon holds his breath and starts carefully extricating himself, pulling himself up as slowly as he can and climbing over the back of the couch. As soon as his foot touches the floor, he hears it again though. And realizes what it is.

About ten minutes later, he's seated at Martin's table, staring at a tape recorder that's still happily going. He considers it. Algric had commented, right at the start that first night, that the recorders were "following" him, making it sound like they had a mind of their own. He's not about to make any statement or talk to the damn thing, he's not delusional or stupid. But he wonders what to do with it, why it's here. It always seems to show up when he's with someone else, or with a group like this.]

...No. [That's his thought on the matter. No. He carefully presses the stop button, then eject and takes the tape out. If this thing is part of it, part of the Eye that's taking hold of him? He doesn't want it to have anything they could give it. He holds it between both hands, starting to press his thumbs outward to break it but--

Something stills him. Whether it's the Eye and the hold Elias has on him, or the fear of making noise and waking the others up, he isn't sure. But he can't... bring himself to destroy this tape. Jon stares at it, before setting it on the table, head in one hand with a shaky, shuddering exhale.

The morning does come around though. Eventually. The tape recorder is nowhere to be seen. There's the sound of meats cooking, and the smells of fresh eggs. He got everything out as quietly as he could, took stock of what was in the fridge and pantry and found it was enough. By the time the others start waking up, he's setting out four plates of eggs, breakfast ham, potatoes with cheese, and some sausage.]

Edited 2020-08-20 02:38 (UTC)

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