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? ]

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From:

kayakking

Right. Like, at least you can pet porcupines in one direction and be fine.

From:

curriculum_fictae

Exactly. Sea urchins are just entirely made of spikes.

[ A sigh. ]

But - but I can’t help it.

From:

kayakking

Gotta have a flaw for the braincell feat.

...

It is a pretty high level of masochism, going to admit.

From:

curriculum_fictae

I am keenly aware.

[ A beat. ]

But, you know, I hate myself, so it works out.

From:

kayakking

Liiiitttlle too real to take that one lightly.

From:

curriculum_fictae

[ SIGH. ]

S-sorry, right. I don’t - I don’t hate Martin, obviously, just -

[ He rubs at his face again. ]

I don’t need to tell you that this is a right clusterfuck.

From:

kayakking

No, I'm getting that feeling.

[There's a moment here, Tim looks away, but then quite determinedly back.]

Sorry. About earlier. I know I said it but it deserves to be out of the heat of the moment too.

From:

curriculum_fictae

[ Algric’s shoulders relax gently. ]

... Thank you. And - well, you have my apology already too, just. Lingering invisibly also wasn’t something I should have done, full stop. God knows we’re all paranoid enough.

From:

kayakking

That's the truth. The paranoid bit, that is.

...

Which is probably where Martin is in all of this. Full paranoia.

[He'd been focusing on his own relief. No longer having to worry about whether the man who could fully justify stalking his house might consider attacking the 'murderer' he'd decided Tim was.

... Especially with Sasha... the idea of being replaced.]

From:

curriculum_fictae

[ That’s. Um. Algric straightens a little at the thought. ]

Oh god. Poor Martin must be - no, I know he must be having a terrible time of it. I would be.

From:

kayakking

Right... I need to touch base with him.

[Easy to say. Easy to promise. Hard to do in the middle of a major depressive episode.]

From:

curriculum_fictae

[ Poor, poor Martin. It’s not like Algric is going to reach out until Jon specifically begs him to. Passed over and forgotten, as always. ]

That - that would be good. I could, but I. Well. Even if I thought he’d enjoy my company, I can’t even look at him without passing out.

From:

kayakking

[God. That.]

Is.. there any way to, I don't know, unravel that? Or are we working on the 'only horrible things are permanent' line of thought.

From:

curriculum_fictae

I mean, that’s probably the best way to think of it, sadly.

[ He curls in on himself a bit. ]

Elias is - is exponentially more powerful than Jon. And older, and - and you know, more evil. Even if you could pull it out, it’s probably trapped or barbed or. Or otherwise guaranteed to hurt me even worse.

From:

kayakking

[What he wants to say is 'any way to force Elias to undo it himself' but some part of his mind simply slips away from the thought entirely. There's no way, clearly.]

Clusterfuck's bit of a understatement.

From:

curriculum_fictae

[ CLEARLY, not even possible. Why would you think of that. ]

R-right. It’s just - just one more terrible thing. In both our lives.

From:

kayakking

[Right? Absolutely preposterous.]

Well, you're not going anywhere soon, so we'll look into better blindfold solutions.

From:

curriculum_fictae

No, not any time soon.

[ That at least he can say with certainty. He rubs at his face gently and manages a chuckle. ]

Maybe - maybe a veil. Or - ah, I can wear sunglasses now, that might work.

From:

kayakking

[That gets an amused huff, at least.]

Not that you wouldn't look fetching in a veil, lets try not to be too on the nose with the gothic hero thing.

Shades it is.

From:

curriculum_fictae

Right then.

[ A beat. ]

As long as they don’t frost over, then - then we can at least try them.

From:

kayakking

... That normally a problem?

Is that why you're without glasses right now?

From:

curriculum_fictae

Y-yes. My eyesight hasn’t gotten any better, but the Lonely just f-frosts them up badly anyway, and getting shoved in cracked them, so they’re just ... gone, now.

From:

kayakking

[There's a pause there as a curiosity can't quite be put down. Especially with his shoulder still slightly damp and his own mind wheeling on it.]

... So, feel free to tell me off.

But... what happened there? All of that.

From:

curriculum_fictae

[ Sorry, Tim. At least it’s only wet and not frozen. Algric ... goes rather still and thoughtful. Just. Thinking. Considering. It’s not that he’s hidden any of this, it just hasn’t been Relevant. ]

I ... I agreed to work for Peter Lukas. You were dead, Daisy was dead, Jon was dead, and - and the Institute had just been attacked by the Flesh in his absence. Melanie fought off Jared’s monsters and Basira managed to get him locked in the Distortion’s hallways.

[ He looks down at his translucent hands. The missing finger. ]

I ... I was late that morning. Had a late night drinking the night before.

[ Tim knows Martin - Algric - well enough to realise the implications of that. Martin just doesn’t drink the same way they do. A single glass of wine, the smallest size of beer, and plenty of excuses as to why. For Algric to say that he had drunk enough to be late the next morning implies something heavy indeed. ]

I ran. Not quite fast enough. Melanie saved me. Swore at me after, called me completely useless. And - and she was right.

From:

kayakking

[Jon dead, him dead, and all of those new names, and still working, trapped in the hellish place at fault for it. (It was still hard to process Martin's earlier request to just not die in the events drawing closer. Just a week ago he would have had to really weigh whether anyone would care. Humbling and distressing in equal terms.)

It was no wonder he turned to some of the oldest solitary indulgences.

There were arguments he could make there. There wasn't a correlation. God how he knew that. The wrong thing didn't care about what time or what people it swallowed.

But this wasn't the time for it.]

... Your finger, was the Boneturner, then. ... Somehow I'd just assumed it was some other part of the lonely.

[As much as he's determined not to interject opinion, it shows clear in utter annoyance on Tim's face at the 'she was right.']

Who is this Melanie, anyway?