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[ Unlike the last time Jon has appeared on this network, this time it's very intentional. And it's very obvious that it is intentional. Apparently he has found himself a usable desk (presumably in the hospital) and has taken the time to prop up his phone appropriately to address his fellow involuntary inhabitants of this lovely place.

It's also rather obvious that he has been using this desk for a few days now at least. There is a comparably neat stack of paper in front of him, two or three notebooks, an assortment of pens, two different types of tape recorders along with some tapes and an empty mug all rather present and no, he doesn't really care about the slight mess. He himself looks a little messy himself, though that's just his normal state of being perpetually tired. But... There are more important things right now, right? Like... How to even start. ]

Uhh... Good evening.

[ That's just remotely awkward. But okay. ]

I have- I mean. I already spoke to a few of you. Either through this network or at an actual encounter in person and... I suppose you might have noticed me at that little welcome home party the Agrii have set up, but... Let's not talk about that. That was... Dreadful.

[ He pauses a moment to sort his thoughts, then goes on. ]

To those I haven't met yet: Hello. I'm Jonathan Sims and I have agreed to help with the hospital.

[ Here he makes a short gesture with one hand to indicate his surroundings. He is indeed at the hospital. Maybe that's your clue to avoid needing medical help anytime soon?

He drops that hand back down. ]

Further, I have decided to take on the task of turning what is left of what appears to have been a library once back into an actual library. To be more precise: I plan to make recordings along with written pieces and store them there once the place is cleaned up. These may serve for our own reference, but also for the Agrii if they are so inclined. My hope is that by teaching them about ourselves, our worlds and our language, we can achieve a more successful way of communicating with them. Learn to understand what they want and need and- You get the idea.

Now what I need is to find a suitable format to record on. While I work with magnetic tapes a lot myself for certain reasons, I am not unfamiliar with digital recordings. Also I am well aware that some of you come from worlds that are technically far more advanced than my Earth happens to be, so I... I would be interested to know if there are more practical formats available. Preferably ones that allow for video as well as audio recordings and don't necessarily require additional hardware for playback. Your universe's version of the data points to be found across this city, for example, just possibly without that direct access to a person's mind. Given that we may soon have access to a functioning replicator... It should be possible.

[ He lets that hang there, then takes a moment to try and think what else he might have to add. He ends up with a short shrug and half a sigh. ]

I guess that's it. If you have a suggestion you believe might work, I would very much like to hear it. And before you ask: Yes, I am planning to keep a purely digital library along with a physically accessible one.

Thank you.

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That's an impressive collection, Lord Tyrion.

[ Though there is a certain cruelty to being presented such a gathering of knowledge and experiences. Speak about dangling a carrot before a starving horse. ]

These are all personal accounts, I presume. Nothing you'd be comfortable to have recorded for public access.

Well thank you. I do try to keep up with everything -- but I don't always get that lucky.

[He blinks for a moment, before he shakes his head.]

No, no, please. Go ahead and take all of them, if you find them useful.

Wha- Really? That- That would be great! Thank you!

[ Oh, Tyrion. You just made his day. No. Probably his entire next month. Or probably the next few months. Even he can't possibly record all these at once.

But yeah. His excitement may be quite obvious. ]

Where- Where can I pick them up?

Oh, you can come over to our home. Although I need to speak to my wife about moving ...

[He looks around with a frown.] Now that I know there are places where I will not need to patch the roof with whatever I can find.

I will. If you tell me where you live I can be there at any time that is the most convenient for you.

[ He's trying not to sound too eager. ]

How is your wife, by the way? Everything okay?

So far, everything is fine. I am less worried now that we have an actual hospital for her time.

[He types and sends their ... address. At least their general location.]

An actual hospital, yes... And we will do what we can, I ensure you that, Lord Tyrion.

[ To be fair, if Altair wouldn't be as confident as he is in his own abilities, Jon would by now have suffered a nuclear meltdown of his very being due to fretting over having to ensure a newborn survives on an alien planet. ]

And I think I can be at your location shortly, if you are available.

Thank you, Mr Sims. I appreciate that more than you can possibly realize.

[This is his first child, and if he doesn't seem it ... well. He is afraid for them.]

Perfect, I am glad to hear it. We do not have much - but I shall offer you whatever little hospitality we have.

[ Jon nods a quick thank you before being on his way. And in a way, he does expect to encounter that sort of fear. It's a fear he understands, even shares. But what bothers him with any fear he comes across these days, is just how right they feel to him. It's disconcerting, but... It is what he is now, isn't it?

As promised, the Archivist arrives not too long after turning off his phone and gives a short knock at the door, taking in his surroundings with interest. There still is plenty for him to explore in the city alone. And part of him still remains on the lookout for any signs of how the Agrii may have left indirect messages.

In his hands Jon carries a small paper bag. Just a small token of gratitude. ]

[The place that Tyrion and Sansa have chosen for their own is a smaller hotel room, which Tyrion and Sansa have painstakingly put back together as best they could. The door has been repaired, and reinforced. There are soft pillows on the floor - and a flock of the local ... not sheep in their backyard. Tyrion has put together a table that is perfectly level and in the corner it is clear he is working on a cradle and a crib.

Which is all Jon can see because when Tyrion opens the door, he is most certainly not blocking the view from down here.] Mr. Sims, do come in. Sansa is out taking her constitutional -- but may I offer you some tea?

[ Jon isn't the tallest man himself, so he blinks initially when the door opens, but the voice that follows takes away that confusion with ease and the Archivist finds himself with a smile. ]

Lord Tyrion. A pleasure to meet you in person at last. And I'm glad to hear you enjoy tea as well.

[ With those words he hands the other man the small gift he brought before following the invitation to step inside. Which is, of course, some of the tea he brought from Risa. Truth be told, Jon may have bought more tea there than he can realistically consume within the next couple of years. And he doesn't mind sharing. ]

I see you're busy making preparations.

[Tyrion closes the door behind Jon, and walked them both to their sitting area, where he and Sansa like to stay together. Stitch, build, talk to one another.]

I do enjoy tea a great deal.

[He chuckled as he looked over at his area of building furniture.]

Yes, we are coming down to weeks.

Weeks...

[ His tone is thoughtful at the information. This means they have mere weeks left to prepare the rooms they will need - And themselves. Jon really wishes he had Altair's confidence in the matter.

But as the Archivist stands in the midst of this humble, yet functional living space, there is something else he just can't help but notice: The presence of fear. It's heavy, pressing and very much justified: The hovering fear of potential loss. It hides underneath the hope shown in the yet unfinished crib. The preparations made in anticipation of a new life.

And Jon loathes that he can't appreciate the anticipation as a sign of love promised to an unborn child, but that he rather sees it as the source of a very distinctive and terrible fear. Yes, he will do what he can to help preserve this little life when the time comes. Though at the same time he worries about his own intentions. For losing the child would only result in grief. A living child always comes with that lasting, underlying fear of losing it. And he doesn't thrive on grief...

It takes him a moment and some effort to shake himself out of his own damning thoughts and return to the present. ]

Ah- I know I am here for the books, but... If you know of any comforts we can try to arrange for your wife's time at the hospital, don't hesitate to let either of us know and we will see what we can arrange. Altair especially is very invested in her comfort.

[ Credit where credit is due, right? ]

[Tyrion has been watching Jon politely for the last few moments, then with a faint frown as the man seemed to drift off into his own world. He was not ...quite sure what was wrong, but when Jon snapped back to the present, Tyrion just put on his most comforting expression and smile.]

A warm bath would not go amiss. Not to mention anything you might have on-hand to read. She likes it when I read to her, and I have heard it will be good for the child as well.

A hot bath won't be a problem, but-

[ And here the Archivist really lights up. ]

-Christ! I can understand that yearning for a good book. I still find it daunting that the Agrii appear to be lacking any written language at all!

[ You can't imagine how much that is still occupying his mind. Every time he walks any of these streets he finds himself looking out for graffiti or anything similar. Any form of nonverbal communication that doesn't involve those little spheres of data. ]

Should we ever manage to make actual contact with them... Jesus. I really wouldn't mind to teach them to write and keep notes in other forms than purely digital.

[Amusement comes over Tyrion's face.] Dear me, I thought I was the only one who became so excited over new tomes to read.

[A faint frown.] I seem to think that there was some sort of issue with their language translations ... or perhaps they had some sort of damage to their minds that correlated with the language centers of their brains.

It's easy to miss having access to a good library, indeed.

[ He gives a woeful nod, then sighs. ]

Maybe. Or they could simply not be used to an actual language at all. Some sort of advanced, telepathic communication, perhaps. The data points hardly describe anything after all. They simply place the knowledge directly into our heads.

I have considered the possibility that attempting to emulate our language may well be their first attempt at communicating that way.

[ This is a matter he has a many theories on, but sadly not a single answer. ]

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