[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]

Or maybe he'd explode into a cloud of confetti.

[curriculum_fictae]

Our world isn't pleasant enough for that.

[ A pause. ]

Glitter. It's terrible and it gets everywhere.

[secreteary]

[nodding, smiling a bit more]

Yeah, you're right. That's a lot more appropriate.

[Martin folds his arms and thinks.]

If he was a pinata, the candy that'd fall out would be so sticky that it pulls out teeth fillings. Or so acidic that it burns holes in your tongue.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Finally, an actual laugh from Algric. ]

Oh god. One of those awful sour things, the one with the powder that leaves your mouth dry after.

[secreteary]

Yeah, exactly! Maybe lollies that glue your jaws together?

[guess what, Algric! Martin's laughing with you.]

[curriculum_fictae]

Seems fitting enough. Can't socialise if you can't talk, right?

[secreteary]

Definitely not. That's how Lukas gets revenge: dangerous sweets. Sure, he'll die to the magic of friendship, but he'll make you regret it.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ God. He just. Laughs? How long has it been since Martin's heard him laugh like that. ]

[secreteary]

[honestly, for some reason... it feels so good to hear that Martin loses himself in laughing, too.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Jon and Tim probably think they've lost their minds. In a good way.

But - after a moment, Algric subsides, wheezing. ]

It's - it's been a while.

[secreteary]

>small>[it's a wonder they haven't come to investigate.

Martin's wheezing a little, pushing his glasses up to wipe at the tears of laughter.]

Too long, yeah. I don't even remember the last time.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric slows back to normal too. ]

I'm sorry to say it doesn't get much better. If you end up on my path, anyway.

[secreteary]

To be honest, that was sort of. Obvious.

[Algric you sure know how to sober someone up really fast.]

And we're flying blind. Even everything you know...

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Sorry, sorry. He winces a little at that. ]

R-right, I. Well, I have a limit.

[secreteary]

That's not your fault. It just...

[sucks.

Martin waves that away.]

But we're better armed than we were without you.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ He opens his mouth to argue with that ... and decides to stop. Just this once. ]

Yes. Y-yes, at least - yes. Even if it's not useful forever, at least you won't go in blind.

[secreteary]

[Martin's expression seems to be one of both admitting that things are terrible, but also attempting reassurance.]

...We'll all figure it out. Somehow. We have some time, and...

[and what else?]

...And each other. I suppose.

[curriculum_fictae]

I - I guess we do have each other. And ourselves.

[secreteary]

For better or worse.

[curriculum_fictae]

Right, which is sometimes. Worse but.

Probably good for us to at least try not hating ourselves...?

[secreteary]

That would- I-it'd be a nice start.

[the air gains the tension of hesitation; of Martin struggling to decide something.

it's clear that he's reluctant to some degree, but he's trying to smile genuinely nonethless, as he slowly extends a hand.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Oh. Oh, that's - is that safe? Last time he tried this, he'd hurt Martin terribly.

But he feels different now. Elias's compulsion doesn't burn in his brain; the chill in his bones doesn't seem quite so intense after a night spent cuddling with Jon, Tim, and Martin. Maybe ...

He reaches back, finally, and delicately takes Martin's hand. Watchful for any signs of cold. ]

[secreteary]

[nothing happens.

at first, anyway.

but then there's a tingling feeling in their hands; a slight warmth that spreads from their fingers up to their wrists.

that's about it. nothing bad; a good sign, maybe?

Martin stares between their hands and Algric's face.]

...I hope that that's good?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric stares down at that strange tingle but ... it seems okay? It seems fine, actually. ]

I - I don't think it's bad, at least.

[secreteary]

That's something, I...guess.

[Algric gets a sort of half, crooked smile.]

Better than last time, anyway.

[...]

May I ask you something?