[ open ] Calibrations of an Archive

[beholding_archivist]

WHO: Jonathan Sims & YOU
WHERE: Jon's Headspace
WHAT: Calibrations!
WHEN: Calibrations Event
WARNINGS: Eyes, Body Horror, Death, Talk of Death & Genocide, Apocalyptic Themes, Fears & Traumas - All the Good Stuff™

Mingle

Over here~

Calibrations

This room is hardly a room, it's a nightmare. Circular and certainly the rough dimensions of a room with an incredibly high ceiling, it lacks distinctive features such as walls, windows, furniture or even an obvious floor to walk on. Instead, the visitor of this room find themself walking on an eye, its pupil focused right on the visitor and thus always right underneath their feet. Kick it, if you like. Poke it. Aside from the pupil constricting briefly, it won't react. Though it sure will feel like poking an actual eye, and doing so may result in something else.

Once one has been able to look away from the eye under one's feet and instead directs their attention up, the visitor may be able to locate the Archivist. Suspended high above the ground, he sits on nothing in particular, one leg over the other and his chin resting in his hand. His posture is relaxed, his unblinking eyes glowing an eerie, yet soft green and his expression one of interest as he watches.

He awaits his visitor's decision.

The decision as of which part of the circular surroundings that aren't walls they end up approaching. As has already been established, there aren't any real walls. And yet, this room is surrounded by different reflections of different memories, each of which can be approached to trigger the respective memory. There is the flickering image of a small cottage, cozily nestled in a quite picturesque mountain landscape. Next to it, the image of a garden, its various flowers being the twisted bodies of what may have been regular people at some point. The glitching expressions on their faces may give away that these people are very much still alive.

Luckily, the following reflection is that of a merry-go-round. A close-up, most likely, for all the visitor actually sees of it are the wooden horses moving past, carrying their faceless riders. Following this comes the reflection of a large, burning building and the one next to it is a dark street, the image flickering and glitching. Then there is the reflection of a massive spider web made of the magnetic tape from spooled off cassettes. The entire web glistens as glowing symbols appear to run along it. The last of the reflections is that of a long corridor with numbered doors to either side. The entire corridor, however, is twisting notably around itself.

Which of these memories will the visitor approach, or will they, instead, address the owner of this gathering of nightmares?

Comments

[ziedrich_bearer]

This was... Weird. Super weird. Gladio had laid down to rest, fallen asleep super fast, and now here he was. In this room. It's... Horrible. A nightmare he doesn't remember the like of before. Super creepy eye, super creepy room, super fucking creepy everything.

All the horrors he's seen, why does he see it like this. He doesn't look up though. Doesn't see Jon. Stupid choice, really. But it means he can look around. In the end he starts moving forward, toward the reflection of a dark street.

"The fuck-?"

[beholding_archivist]

The reflection shimmers and the entire room shifts as the memory starts playing out.

"You promised to let me go. If I had to." This is Jon speaking. He's standing in the entrance of a tunnel leading down into the ground. The surrounding city is dark and he is leaning against the wall, cigarette between his fingers, but his eyes turned to the young man nearby, who huffs stubbornly in response. "And you promised not to go if there was any other choice. And there is. So that’s the deal."

Jon sighs, yet nods. "That’s the deal."

"I guess that’s why it really bothers me, you know?" The young answers, crossing his arms. "I try, but I can’t actually imagine ever making a decision that I knew meant losing you. And it… It hurts to know you can."

"You didn’t damn the world, Martin." Jon replies, taking his eyes off of the man that is now known as Martin, who tries to argue. "We all –" But Jon snaps his attention back to him in an instant, his tone taking on a harsh edge. "No! We all nothing! I, I’m the one who caused all of this, that’s just the truth of it! I’m the one whose whole life has been nothing but one long setup to this."

This shuts Martin off at least for a moment. He recovers quickly, however, to at least try. "Jon…"

Jon shakes his head, shoulders dropping with regret. "You didn’t speak the words! You didn’t feel them move through you, vomiting out of you like…" He pauses. "I did this. It’s my fault. And I don’t want… I can’t let anyone else feel that. That helpless, enormous guilt." Another pause. "Ever." He finishes and shakes his head, looking away in an attempt to hide the tears burning in his eyes.

Martin notices anyway and he steps over, pulling Jon into s hug, muttering soothingly. "Hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey, come here, come here. We’re going to fix it."

And while Jon accepts the hug and allows himself to cry, he still shakes his head. "No." He sniffles. "We’re just going to pass it on."

[ziedrich_bearer]

It's a chill, it hurts to watch. To see someone so... broken and grieved. Something is happening, and Gladio doesn't know what. He just knows that it's hurting someone.

Jon, he's seen the man before. He'd been at that thing with that dude that tried to kill Tony. But Gladio doesn't really know him beyond that.

Still, he's confused.

"What the fuck is going on here?"

[beholding_archivist]

"Calibrations." The Archivist answers from above, though his posture doesn't change much aside from a slight shrug.

"I... Apologize. My memories... They aren't pretty."

[hashtagparkerluck]

Peter's not sure how he got here really, it's like no room he's seen before and then he makes the mistake of looking down.

"Oh my god!" He squeaks, backing up to try not to stand on the eye. "Okay. Okay..." He takes in a few breaths to try and settle his nerves. He looks up and sees Jon and starts to move over to him.

"Um... Hey?" He offers awkwardly, still trying to avoid stepping on the pupil at the very least.

[beholding_archivist]

The pupil isn't exactly something that can be avoided. Maybe it even enjoys the attention?

At being addressed himself, Jon inclines his head a little, then he nods. "Peter." He greets plainly. "I- I am sorry."

[hashtagparkerluck]

This isn't hurting anything is it? Because he'd ate to find he somehow hurt him. Unfortunately, just sticking to the wall and crawling over isn't much an option.

"Wh-um... hang on." He carefully moves closer. "Sorry for what? I feel like I should be the one apologizing."

[beholding_archivist]

"You're the one stuck among my memories, Peter." Jon clarifies. "That's what this is, I'm afraid. And my memories... You won't like them."

He exhales once, then lowers himself further towards the ground, yet doesn't set foot onto it himself. "Everyone's powers are disabled as well. This... It happened before."

[mrsklover]

Richie opens his eyes and knows exactly who's mind he's in. "Fucking bullshit!" He stomps a foot and in doing so notices the eye down there. A fucking eye. Of course. Jesus this place was a nightmare. Richie turns to look for the door but of course it's not there. He curses again and decides if he has to do this, he might as well pick the one spot that isn't out of a fucking serial killer's fever dream.

"You have a real fucked up mind," he announces to the floating Archivist as he walks to the cottage and reaches out to touch it.

"If this is like the fucking doors where 'Not Scary' was the scariest one, I am gonna be pissed..."

This took a bit.

[beholding_archivist]

Jon doesn't move from where he has been this entire time, but he does follow Richie's movements attentively, not commenting, however, to the man's words.

The reflection shimmers and a blinding light engulfs Richie when touched. When he can see again, he finds himself standing inside the very same cottage and on the other side of the room he can see Jon, sitting at a simple table, tape recorder running on the same table as he reads from a sheet of paper in his hands, focused on the task. Though his voice isn't quite his own. It sounds- Layered. And on closer inspection, his expression is more of a strained one, as if he is fighting those very words spoken by his own mouth.

"...And there, I think, we are brought just about up to date. I have enjoyed our little trip down memory lane, but past here lies only impatience." A pause, for tension. "You are prepared. You are ready. You are marked. The power of the Ceaseless Watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here." A reassuringly mocking tone creeps into Jon's voice. "Don’t worry, Jon. You’ll get used to it here, in the world that we have made. Now." Another pause, followed by a cruel, brief laugh. "Repeat after me."

When Jon begins to read the incantation, a heavy, dense static returns to his voice and begins to build, adding in higher pitches as it does so. "You who watch and know and understand none. You who listen and hear and will not comprehend. You who wait and wait and drink in all that is not yours by right.

Come to us in your wholeness.

Come to us in your perfection!

Bring all that is fear and all that is terror and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns and hunts and rips and bleeds and dies!

Come to us.

I – OPEN – THE DOOR!"

The static stays high and heavy and oppressive as reality itself seems to explode around Jon, the recorder in front of him shrieking and for a moment, everything goes black.

Before any light returns, a frantic voice can be heard. A voice that isn't Jon's. "Wake up. Wake up. Wait, Jon, Jon, Jon, WAKE UP!" A slap can be heard and as Jon shudders awake with a disoriented yell, a you man can be seen by his side where he has ended up on the floor, blinking up before uttering: "Uh– Wh– Martin?"

"Jon!" The young man now known as Martin replies, but Jon cuts in half a moment later. "Wha– Wh–" Another moment later and Jon suddenly remembers. "Oh god. What– What happened?"

Martin shakes his head as he tries to find an explanation, clearly close to tears as he struggles through some words. "I, I don’t, I don’t know; everything– It’s all gone wrong!"

"Help me up!" Jon orders and Martin complies even though Jon ends up on unsteady feet, breathing heavily. Jon immediately turns towards the door, but Martin holds him back. "No, no, no – don’t, don’t go outside. It’s– It’s real bad." Silence follows as Jon first casts Martin a look, then heads for the window instead. "Oh god."

Martin approaches slowly. "I don’t know if it’s just here, or –" But Jon cuts in with a knowing shake of his head. "No. No, it’s everywhere. They’re all here now." His voice is shaking, but- In awe? "I can feel all of it."

"Jon. Jon, I’m scared."

"The whole world is afraid, Martin. Because of me." Jon doesn't turn around as he says this, but he appears to be either laughing or crying. He goes on, his voice turning slightly ominous. "And The Watcher -" His voice is distorted when he speaks, strangely layered together in an eerie way. "– drinks it all in."

Martin casts him a concerned look, his own voice timid. "Jon?"

Jon's voice remains distorted and he is shaking in what turns out to be a mixture of laughter and tears and he points out of the window, up into the sky. "Look at the sky, Martin. Look at the sky. It’s looking back!" The shaking in his voice turns into an actual laugh. A laugh that is equally cold as it is afraid.

And the memory ends there.

Omgggggg

[mrsklover]

Richie should have known better. He should have known that anything looking so innocent would be just another horror. And it was. God, it was. Richie watched it all with wide, terrified eyes. Jon had done something or, as it sounded, been forced into doing something. Something horrible that destroyed his entire world. All of it ruined and completely on his shoulders.

For a second Richie almost feels pity.

As the memory ends, Richie is left staring up at Jon, shocked and not quite sure what to do next. He swallows and wills his hands to stop shaking.

"What...what happened? Did you...mean to destroy the world? I don't understand."

[beholding_archivist]

"I was the catalyst for the change, yes." Jon admits with a nod, his voice strangely layered and glitching at the edges. "Did I mean to destroy my world? No. Did my decisions inevitably lead to that result? Yes." And he will accept any blame for it.

Jon lowers himself down towards the floor of the room, yet doesn't set foot on the eye himself despite assuming an upright posture. He gestures around them to the selection of memories put on display. "The apocalypse did not make for pleasant memories, I'm afraid."

[out_of_order]

"!!" A giant eye underfoot is not anything that even a Jedi would think to expect, but that's what Cal finds beneath him, making him gasp and step back, not that it changes anything. When it becomes apparent that there really is no way to get around stepping on the thing, Cal still tries to keep around the sides of it. It doesn't seem particularly bothered of being stepped on than he seems bothered stepping on it.

"Jon..?" he wonders aloud then, letting his own gaze travel finally, slowly looking around the...well, it's something of a room, anyway. An illusion of one.

[beholding_archivist]

"Cal." The Archivist replies from above, his voice oddly layered as he unfolds from his sitting position and lowers himself towards the young man, frowning a little. "You won't like this place." He informs Cal, already aware of his discomfort with the large eye underneath his feet.

"I'm sorry."

[out_of_order]

Cal looks up at the voice, blinking up at the hovering Archivist as Jon descends. The corner of the Jedi's lips quirk slightly. "Kind of figured that..." he admits, casting a dry look towards the eye beneath him. His expression softens as he looks at Jon again. He raises his hands in a shrug.

"Not your fault. We're not exactly in control of whose head we end up stepping into..." he says, casting a quick glance around. But he knows that's not entirely the reason for
Jon's apology. Cal knows he probably only had a small taste of the power that Jon had to live with, and it hadn't been a kind thing. He wonders how much of it still bleeds over in this place, even when their powers aren't working where they sleep.

He can't help but look back down at the eye below him. It is right there. "Is...is it connected to you?"

[beholding_archivist]

Jon shakes his head. "Not here. It... Would be. I suppose. Were this place not-" He gestures. "This." He looks down at the eye. "Here it's just another memory." Though just as with any of these memories Jon is aware that it's pretty messed up.

But rather than pointing that out, Jon directs his attention up at Cal. "Last time... I remember. I saw some of your memories."

[scienceofthearcane]

At first, Viktor is mostly confused. There are no walls to speak of and yet reflections of various scenes are being projected onto this round room.

Then he looks down and sees the floor looking back at him.

Viktor yelped and backed up to flatten himself against the door. Or what he thought was the door but has turned into another wall for this round room. Only then did he see Jon creepily floating in the middle of this very creepy room.

"I don't suppose you would be able to show me the way out? Or at least how not to step on the giant eyeball."

The last part is muttered mostly to himself.

[beholding_archivist]

The Archivist watches the other man with interest, then shrugs. "I- I believe the rooms decide that." At least he hasn't figured out how else exactly this all works.

"The aim, I suppose, is to- To share memories." No one really has any control about what their dreams will end up looking. Had it been up to Jon, his selection of memories would have been different.

[scienceofthearcane]

To share memories? Then that must mean... Viktor stayed plastered to the wall but looked at Jon with growing horror.

"...This is your mind?"

That might explain some of the projections around the room but the eyeball for a floor said something extra disturbing about what exactly was in Jon's head.

someone had to

[deal_me_in]

Great, where is he now?

The answer comes simultaneously with its cancellation the moment the Hunter glances down and sees the eye underfoot. Even through the mental keymash that doesn't manage to translate itself into words, it's not enough to kill basic reaction as Cayde grasps for a gun that isn't there and so resorts to stomping at the thing that dares stare up from beneath him.

[beholding_archivist]

The eye underneath doesn't react as much as to maintain its unblinking focus, pupil constricting briefly with each stomping impact.

"Cayde..." Comes the Archivist's layered voice from above, with the man remaining up in his place for now, watching with equal amounts of curiosity and bewilderment.

[deal_me_in]

"Gah!" Cayde stumbles back, head whipping upwards in search of the voice that slowly registers as something familiar. His faceplates bunch as he squints up at the hovering Archivist before relaxing slightly. There really is no fully relaxing here, as he steals a glance back down at the eye, still insisting on giving it a prod with the toe of his boot.

"Guess I'm not surprised," he says, shrugging as he gives Jon a lazy smile. "This doesn't look much like a room though. Can't say I agree with the carpeting."

[mutedsuspicions]

The moment Lerith notices the eye - which is first since his scarf is obscuring his view of everything else - he immediately startles away from it. Or, tries to get away from it. It monitors his every movement and follows and the elf isn't keen about it.

What was this place? It wasn't like any of the other rooms he had been in. Was it considered a room?

He finally looks about and spots a man... floating? That's also weird. The man doesn't seem like he's looking for conversation, just watching. Like the eye that Lerith's doing everything in his power to not look at. The elf is terrified of whatever the fuck is going on in this room. Is this what the Fade was like? His heart pounds in his chest and he pulls the scarf tighter around his head like it would protect him from whatever is in here.

[What is this room? Is it a room?]

[beholding_archivist]

The Archivist is, indeed, watching. Just as is the Eye below. The man that has entered the room isn't a stranger. The Archivist has seen him around. And on the network. This one doesn't speak verbally but with gestures.

For now the Archivist doesn't move closer or offer any explanation aside from wordlessly gesturing around him with one hand. It's a space. The space his mind may or may not have made up and for now it's up to the visitor to decide on his next move. Will he chose to communicate or pick one of the memories surrounding them...

[mutedsuspicions]

The man - wasn't that... Jon? - doesn't seem interested in coming down to Lerith's level, so the elf looks around. If it was like the other rooms, then there were memories around. He shouldn't touch stuff - what if there was something Jon didn't want to share?

There's a glint on his eyes as he looks around (everywhere but below him), then back to Jon above. He's relaxed a little, but there's still apprehension on his face.

[I don't want to touch your memories. They're not mine to touch.] The elf takes a couple of steps forward in an attempt to get off of the eye with no such luck. [Your room is... different. Are you okay?]