curriculum_fictae | [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? ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

secreteary

[he couldn't let go even if he wanted to. the icy feeling locks his hand around the hand of...The-Blur-That-Might-Be-Him...

it rushes up his arm like a biting winter wind; just short of being agony as it seeps through skin and into bone. the voice in his head sounds like the crackling of ice by his ear, and his heart goes as cold as the rest of him.

finally letting go, Martin stumbles back a few steeps, clearly unsteady on his feet. saying he's "pale" doesn't do his lack of pallor justice, and the horror in his unseeing gaze speaks of something that hit too deep.]

I--

[gulp]

B-bathroom--

[Martin fumbles for the wall behind him, and slides along it - still staring at...that blur... - feeling quite sick and just needing to get away, to breathe]

From:

eyediot

[Jon's torn between making sure Tim isn't crushed, that future-Martin isn't just - dead or something, and that current-Martin doesn't have a full panic attack.

But he knows that look. He's up on his feet, carefully guiding him along, down the hall to the bathroom.]

This way - Come on... [His voice is that uncharacteristically soft, quiet. He'll give him privacy and close the door to the bathroom but he's still standing halfway in the hallway so he can see when Martin's done, and still see Tim and future-Martin.

He looks so tired. All that exhaustion from just after the Prentiss attack is rushing back to him now.]

I'm not sure this is how I really would have wanted any of you to see my flat for the first time.

From:

kayakking

[Tim flashes a wild look up as- he really didn't catch exactly what happened to the present Martin, just the blur of grey, and Jon getting up quickly to follow. He... No, Jon has it.

He focuses on the eerily cold man more on his legs than the floor. The warmth from Tim's hands radiate through even the washed out jumper as they settle, a soft, urgent shake at his shoulder. And a little more firmly (guilt, confusion and bone deep relief war at the sight) when Martin's lashes flutter as he claws his way back to consciousness.]

Martin. Martin. Hey, stay here with me.

From:

curriculum_fictae

[ It's not a pleasant journey back to consciousness - his head feels like it's going to split open, and his eyes burn with tears and misery alike - but he returns all the same, not significantly worse for wear. Tim hasn't accidentally murdered him with a time paradox or something.

He blinks up at Tim slowly, feeling his warmth spread slowly through Martin's otherwise frigid body. And in turn, Tim can see how the colour blooms quietly from his touch, solidifying Martin and bringing him back to himself. It's nice. And ... sad, too. He'd been very pale when Tim had first seen him, right? ]

Tim? What --

[ Wait. Martin squeezes his eyes shut again, terrified he'll catch another glimpse of himself. ]

I - I told you it was a bad idea.

Edited Date: 2020-07-30 02:49 am (UTC)

From:

secreteary

[in just about ANY OTHER situation, Martin would feel a thrill and a fluttering inside him at this moment of gentle Jon directed at him, but as it stands, he's too distraught to even notice.

he doesn't even close the door as he bends over the sink, resting his forehead on his arms, and just trying to breathe deeply and evenly. he's dizzy, he's nauseous, he's cold. his hands are gripping the arms of his sweater tightly. he hasn't even noticed yet that his left hand is turning transparent...]

From:

eyediot

[Meanwhile, Jon is... hovering. He's anxious about this whole thing, it wasn't planned, Tim said Martin was coming tomorrow, not while they were still sorting out so much of this information up front.

But with Martin hunched over like that.... Jon looks at Tim and the future-Martin, nods once (he's being taken care of, he trusts Tim to do that) then carefully steps in around present-Martin to get a small hand towel from his cabinet and wet it with cold water.]

Here.

From:

secreteary

[when the world takes a momentary break from tilting, Martin looks up just enough to see what's offered, and then to look up at who's offering. Martin's...a little surprised.]

...Thank you.

[he takes it, not able to manage a grateful smile, and holds it against the back of his neck. he's upright now, at least, leaning on his other hand against the rim of the sink. he read something about the back of the neck being helpful about nausea once? or something like that? he can't think, he can't remember. he's just cold, and confused.

Martin worries his lip a little, and looks up at the mirror above the sink.]

So...he's really me?

From:

eyediot

[Jon, for his part, just leans against the counter watching the wall. Some semblance of privacy for Martin, but still wanting to stick close.]

Seems that way. Right now we can't disprove it, but we have some things we need to check.

[A beat, then a little quieter.] I'm sorry about Tim. You know him, he's... [Vaguely gestures with one hand.] More into ripping the bandaid off at once.

From:

secreteary

I thought... [not able to stand looking at himself in the mirror any longer, his eyes cast down into the sink again.] I thought everything he said, in the texts... I thought it was all Tim...being Tim.

[it's hard to swallow; his throat is tight.]

What was important was that...you've been better, and he found out why, and I-- We've been so worried about you, so... I just. I want to help. If I can.

But then I touched...him, and--

[Martin looks at his left hand, and for the first time sees that not only is it cold, it's partially transparent like frosted glass. he lets out a strangled yelp and stumbles backwards, holding his hand farther away from himself.]

What the fuck?!

From:

eyediot

What.

[Jon doesn't immediately see the problem. But then he looks at Martin's hand, sees it outstretched and his eyes go wide.]

I don't.. I don't understand. [He reaches for Martin's elbow, carefully holding it in one hand and Martin's hand in his other.]

This isn't right, I... I don't know.

From:

secreteary

Oh--

[WARM.

it's instantaneous and travels up his arm quickly; a blaze of heat that hurts because of the sudden change in temperature in his body.

color blooms back into his hand and whatever little of his arm that the cold and transparency had bled into so quickly, like dropping ink into water.

but these things are barely registering to Martin. he gives a cursory glance to his hand. but it's Jon's touch that fascinates him; he'd reached out so casually with genuine concern, with soft confusion, not wanting to alarm Martin. he stares at Jon, searching his face in this quiet, easy closeness.

heat quickly reaches Martin's face, but who can say the reason why?]

From:

eyediot

[Certainly not Jon, who's just relieved the color's coming back. From what little he does understand, there's no reason for this to be happening. Except...

Gods.]

I think. I think maybe you weren't supposed to touch each other.

From:

secreteary

[oh. it's not A Moment. of course it's not. ...how stupid.

the heat dissipates a little, but somehow he feels even colder than before.

just push it down, like always.

Martin nods.]

I...guess not. I got part of whatever...is wrong with him.

[a beat, and then a whisper:]

What is wrong with him? Is it because of the time...whatever that Tim mentioned?

From:

eyediot

A lot of things, apparently.

[Yeah, for it not being A Moment, Jon sure isn't keen on letting go. He's still holding on to Martin's hand and elbow gently.]

I don't fully understand a lot of it.

From:

From:

kayakking

[If it wasn't for the terrible, aching cold radiating through Tim's bones from where he's in contact with Martin... this one would... look nearly the same as the Martin who'd just turned up. Oh, yeah, still washed out. Still missing a bit of his hand, and looking solidly worn down but it's harder to pitch the ghost idea now.

And just at touch. He'd mentioned the Lonely...

No, no now is not time for cataloging spooky traits.]

By told, made normal level 'Should we stop rearranging the stationary on Jon?' of protest, not 'I could time space out of existence,' Jesus Christ.

[Lower, quieter...] Are.. you okay?

Edited Date: 2020-07-30 08:50 pm (UTC)

From:

curriculum_fictae

[ They are very clearly the same person. Changed in small ways, but with their core ... Martin-ness still intact. If this one is a monster, then it's much more subtle than just being a ghost or a Not!Them, that's for sure.

Martin makes a soft, distressed noise as he lifts his head a little. ]

I - I don't think it's a time space thing? Not that I. Have any idea what that feels like, just -

[ He raises one of his glassy hands. ]

It's the Lonely. And - and it's been happening for the last six months, at least.

[ So no, he's not okay. But he's not much less okay than he was before he fainted. ]

From:

kayakking

[No, he's not okay at all.]

So, seeing yourself Lonelied yourself unconscious?

Because I can get my Martin home...

From:

curriculum_fictae

[ My Martin, he says. And it's true, of course, plus Martin wouldn't dare to usurp his alternate self's life in any way. And yet it stings, doesn't it? A subtle reminder of how alone he is here, stranded in a past that is no longer his own.

He takes in a deep breath, pushing those feelings down. And shakes his head. ]

N-no, that was - that was something different. I knew it would be bad but I didn't think I'd. I'd faint.

From:

kayakking

[That particularly poignant distress passes under the camouflage of all of the other distressing thing going on. Still, Tim stays where he is, half supporting Martin while he... he what?

That was the problem wasn't it?]

God. Anything else you have bottled up and filed under 'it doesn't matter because it only hurts me?' Or can we just elaborate on this one?

From:

curriculum_fictae

[ Well. That would be a long list. But he'll focus on this one relevant thing. ]

I - I had something forced into my head. A compulsion, of sorts. I can't look at myself without seeing ... someone I hate.

[ He shivers a little even at that blatantly minimal explanation. ]

Elias is far more dangerous and powerful than you can imagine.

From:

kayakking

[No, hold on. This, this needs to be addressed.]

Yourself. Including like, mirrors, pictures, videos?

From:

curriculum_fictae

[ Rude, Tim. How dare you not let him gloss right over this horrific thing that's happened to him. ]

Y - yes. I got rid of everything I could. Phone's clean, and - and I got rid of all the mirrors in my flat.

From:

kayakking

[There was something about this that hit so much worse, ground it in so much more deeply, than hearing about the old Archivist shot up in the tunnels. It was a murder. It was horrible. He definitely didn't want to be working for the man involved.

But this, was... monstrous in both a personal and petty way. Where someone had such utter power over another and chose to simply go with what caused the longest, more scarring suffering.

~~It reminded him of-~~

Suddenly, the seriousness of the accusation settled like hot lead.

Martin can feel Tim shift, and hear the soft whisper of cloth against cloth. It's a few moments before fingers slide under Martin's neck and a silky cloth rests over his eyes.]

All right. Let's... not risk you here.

From:

curriculum_fictae

[ Oh, Tim. It's a good thing you've blindfolded Martin, or else you might see the prickle of tears at the corners of his eyes. He has to blink rather rapidly under Tim's tie for a moment.

But after a moment, he relaxes a little with relief, too. With the cloth blocking his vision, there's no risk of his past self accidentally coming back into view. (And he doesn't have to watch Jon's gentle body language from his position on the floor, nor have to fight quite so hard against the vicious jealousy clawing at the inside of his ribcage.) ]

Th - thank you. As long as I can't see him, I ... I should be all right.