Of Heart Breaks and other Intermissions

[beholding_archivist]

WHO: Jonathan Sims & you~
WHERE: Various
WHAT: May catch-all
WHEN: What remains of May
WARNINGS: He has cigarettes and feels terrible. Horror themes may pop up?

Cigarette Break [ hospital ]

A large slab of rubble a little away from the hospital's the emergency entrance has come to be Jon's preferred place to take a break. Or to just linger around to pass some time between cleaning up. Or to dwell on what sits on his mind.

It's that piece of rubble Jon can be found on. Sitting cross-legged and leaning against an even bigger piece of rock, a cup of tea next to him and a cigarette between trembling fingers. It's not lit and Jon makes no move to light it. Instead, he simply stares at it. He knows exactly who has left these anonymously for him and that... It still hurts.

Just another rejection, right? Those just seem to be happening to him... No one really wants him, no one needs him. Even here at the hospital. Not that he has any medical training to offer. Or any helpful magic. He's hardly even any use at cleaning this place up.

And he's getting tired of it. Tired of feeling useless. Tired of getting rejected. Tired of not knowing what to do.

Altair should arrive at the hospital soon, right? He has meant to talk to the Chiss. Though at this point Jon wouldn't mind any interaction that doesn't end with feeling rejected.

Reality Break [ around the city ]

Taking some time away from the hospital as well as the library feels necessary every now and then. There are still plenty of areas he hasn't explored yet and wandering about... Well. Aside from trying to fix things, what else really is there to do?

Jon spends a good amount of time in the Northern part of Temba. The gaping hole in the ground that used to be a mine is quite effectively keeping his attention for some time. Whatever has happened here to cause this damage... He wants to know. It has to have been dreadful. He also makes it to the hangar, wandering inside and instantly feeling just as lost as he has been on his first visit to this place.

He still can't believe these are actual space ships. But he doesn't enter the one he has been assigned to either. Just takes a moment to stare.

The entire North-Western area, not far from where he has claimed some small personal place for himself, is entirely peculiar. He will wander along the fenced-off structures thoughtfully. No one would stop him if he were to try and break into one of these, right? Has someone ever tried? All he needs is to find a way over or through these fences... Though as much as he contemplates the possibilities, Jon makes no move to try entering. If the tunnels have taught him one thing, then it's to at least attempt to prepare for such excursions.

Heading towards the forge..... Now that's a mistake Jon realizes once he draws near enough to spot the structure in the distance. And there he stops, guts twisting uncomfortably as his mind helpfully replays Tony's words to come by the forge for him to finally fix that broken front camera on Jon's phone.

A crack Tony remains responsible for in a way. Just as the man is responsible for invoking false hopes and false security and- Christ. The Archivist mutters something under his breath before he turns and makes to leave the area again before everything comes bubbling up yet again.

Lunch Break [ amphitheater ]

The large amphitheater is empty when Jon enters it. At least a center area at ground level is, and he doesn't bother to check thoroughly. At least he isn't walking into another training session and just may be able to distract himself and his mind for at least a short while. He crosses the entire area until he reaches one of the lowest benches and sets his satchel down on it before pulling out his tape recorder and the book Cayde has given him.

Right. It's about time he gets to read and record this. And as the library lacks a room that doesn't ruin any recording attempts through excessive echoing, one of the theaters will have to do. The acoustics in them has been the most acceptable during his testing.

He sets the recorder down at the bench and presses down the record button before stepping out into the center of the theater, opening the book once he has taken his place and opens it on the first page, muttering a little at being reminded just what the Exo has done to the book "...Jesus, this is a mess." But he still clears his throat.

"An account of Cayde-6, Hunter Vanguard of the Last City. Recorded by Jonathan Sims. ..." And he proceeds to read what Cayde has written between the actual text of the book, finding it easy and soothingly familiar to let himself drift off and let the written words carry him and his mind away at least for a little while.

God he really has missed doing this, hasn't he...

If anyone is to wander into this, they get the chance to test just how jumpy the Archivist can be. If they were in the theater from the very beginning, maybe enjoying a little nap on one of the upper ranks, they can either enjoy the reading, or yell at him to shut the hell up.

Mental Break(down) [ library ]

The shelves of the library remain depressingly empty, even as Jon slides Cayde's book onto one of them with the neatly labeled tape recording of its content sitting right on top of it. He sighs, shoulders slumping as he lets his hands drop to his sides.

It's just as empty as he feels, isn't it. How... fitting.

Why does he even still bother to try? It's not like anyone here needs or wants him around. Even the Agrii have gotten very quiet. Maybe their captors have been attacked and wiped out by now. That United Federation of Planets T'Pring spoke of doing away with this potential threat. It's possible, right? And they are not trapped on this planet for good.

So why does he still bother trying? Can't he just give in at last? Cast off whatever shreds of humanity tie him down and be the monster he can still hear Helen encourage him to be? Turn this city into a hunting ground. Draw out dark secrets and terrors and leave everyone with their own, personal nightmares until his actions get him hunted down by all these heroes.

A humorless, shallow laugh echoes through the empty library halls. Heroes do need monsters to hunt, right? Maybe that's his place after all.

Comments

[beholding_archivist]

Jon looks over at Tony when the man asks his questions. That Tony doesn’t appear as affected by the recording as Jon would have expected from people he knows at the Institute comes with a certain relief. But maybe that’s just it. Tony doesn’t work for the Institute. He doesn’t belong to the Eye. He might experience the statements in a whole different way.

It’s a thought that puts a little smile to Jon’s face, and he nods, leaning forward to set the recorder to the floor before giving a verbal response, voice gentle “Yes. That’s is. I feel better now. Though I’d rather not see another carnival in a while.” A pause, and his voice drops “And I worry about Martin. But... Little I can do about that here.” And nothing Tony needed to hear.

“I owe you a drink. Or possibly more. For putting up with this- With me.”

[in_extremis]

Tony took a deep breath that became a sigh as he dropped his head back against the window, eyes still heavy lidded but the twitching tension finally melting from his shoulders. He didn't know what to do with what Jon thought he owed him and flicked a loose hand dismissively-- Jon could have easily hidden every part of that from Tony and left him guessing every time he did some weird shit again, or worse, left him to find out from someone else that Jon had entrusted with the details. He would rather be 'putting up' with Jon. He had put up with Tony plenty.

"We'll be out of this soon," he assured Jon quietly, still confident despite the mounting evidence against them, and a dry patter of dust sighing down the steps as the rotting building gave a groan and settled again as though to mock their efforts, "you'll be giving him shit about whatever decisions he was making without you in no time." Tony hadn't really come around to the idea that they just forgot their time here upon returning home-- he couldn't imagine it would be that easy to extract the frustrated notes of panic Jon was capable of under the manipulation of Tony's hands, and he closed his eyes finally to breathe a laugh at the thought that he could only give another dismissive gesture for.

[beholding_archivist]

There is very little reassuring in Tony’s words. Instead, Jon finds himself faced with a couple of very conflicting emotions. And it shows in the deep frown forming on his face.

Of course he wants to go back home and... Face whatever it is Lukas has been planning to use Martin for. Of course he wants to be there for his friends who might very well need him. Of course he wants to leave this crumbling planet and it’s destroyed city. Of course...

Of course he has to put to words the question they were both facing.

“...do you believe we will forget? When we go back?” The though and actually phrasing it puts a knot into his guts. He doesn’t want to forget. At least not everything. Not everyone.

[in_extremis]

It was starting to become clear that the less Tony had to say, the more likely Jon was going to be able to follow his thought; if his mind hadn't just gone to the same place Tony's had, he didn't know how to place that wan expression that was back on Jon's face when he shot Jon a sidelong look for the question. He couldn't imagine it was entirely himself that was making the thought so depressing to Jon, he had been tinkering away at a little life for himself here in Temba, and it sounded like he didn't have a lot of good things to be left with back home, but Tony started to smirk as though he knew it was. He rolled up onto his knees to reach across the window bay and grab Jon by the ankles, dragging him off of the jacket and across the dusty, stone floor until Tony could brace himself over Jon's shoulders and press a kiss to his brow. "Do you think that would stop me from coming to find you?" he asked, and his grin made the question sound like a wicked threat. "You're racking up a tab, boss. You wouldn't believe my hourly back home."

[beholding_archivist]

Having been busy enough wallowing in his own bleak outlook of forgetting and being forgotten, Jon doesn't notice that Tony is making a move until he is yanked across the floor, his own yelp of surprise being cut short by the other man appearing over him and effectively leaving Jon staring wide-eyed up at him.

"Tony! That's-- Jesus Christ-" He stammers at first, one of his hands instinctively coming to rest on Tony's upper arm while Jon properly sorts the situation into its current perspective.

Well. Trust in Tony to utterly derail his brooding if he deems it necessary, be his methods appropriate or not.

Jon lets out a faux sigh of admitted defeat before musing aloud, offering one half of a shrug to the observation he is about to make "If that's a promise, then I suppose it means I can't try to get rid of any of that debt prematurely."

[in_extremis]

"You can try," Tony corrected as he stretched again over Jon to collect his jacket, dragging it with what looked like about as much effort as he had put into dragging Jon across the floor, "but I doubt whatever beans you're going to trade me here is going to put in a worthwhile dent. What are you on, some kind of librarian salary? I'm going to be garnishing your wages for the next sixty years, easy. That lens cost you your first born's college fund. I am a luxury, Mr. Sims." He sat up on his knees with another dangerous smirk to pile his clothes together, then gave Jon's thigh a pat that could have been reassuring if he didn't threaten, "I'll be there to collect, with interest." Dimension hopping wasn't really Tony's area, but between his more enterprising debt collectors and the promise of a real mindfuck of a magic monster to dangle in front of Strange, it wasn't a totally empty threat. He had seen some people make bigger moves for less.

[beholding_archivist]

"Well;" Jon says, pulling up his brows for a short moment before pushing himself into a sitting position, supporting himself with one of his arms and inclining his head slightly at Tony as he responds in a perfectly serious voice "You're a luxury- and I'm a monster. So you better hold your word or I will have to derive a ritual to summon you into my world rather than Beholding."

Jon manages to sound serious and maintain eye contact until those words are spoken, then instantly feels silly for them and drops his gaze away, feeling that familiar heat of embarrassment burning up his face. The hand that has been about to reach up to touch Tony's face equally falters halfway and drops back into his lap. Jon swallows, trying to find anything else to look at and takes a deep breath "I... I mean- I don't want to forget you."

[in_extremis]

What that esoteric summons was supposed to look or feel like was well outside of Tony's understanding and he could only chuckle at the threat?, invitation? that Jon didn't seem confident in, either, brow raised in a confused apology for what was going to be an ongoing willful ignorance of any kind of magic ritual Jon wanted to tell him about. That wasn't Tony's business. The expression warmed as Jon looked away, though, as Tony was glad to see any colour come back to his face at this point, never mind Tony's favourite one, and he almost pressed Jon on the details then to make him squirm and heighten the blush.

Jon wasn't supposed to go and say that out loud after Tony had worked so hard to put so many words between it and them, literally dragging Jon away from it. Tony was supposed to be being careful now, and it was backfiring, he hadn't even managed one day. He definitely couldn't say it back now. "That's impossible, look at me," he said, just a little too loud to his own ears, with a practiced grin as he grabbed up his jacket again to start tugging it on. His mistake this time, he realized, was staying too long, loathe to leave until Jon had evened out and longing selfishly for the touch that meant he was forgiven and had taken the intensity of Jon's anger well. The second one had probably coloured the first too much, Jon was probably fine, he could have gotten himself to the cupboard, Tony's stalling was cruel. "If you really think you could forget this face, we'll make you one of your tapes," he suggested, filling the space. "Statement begins," his Martin accent wasn't great, he had only heard it the one time, give him a break, "Subject was suffering in the paradise of a planet called Risa, nothing on offer appealing to his most cultivated tastes, when he was blessed by the image of the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Subject couldn't even maintain a conversation, so overcome with passion that he had to end the transmission." That Jon probably would have thought this one had fully lost his mind.

[beholding_archivist]

The point of forgetting someone he cares about or being forgotten... It has been a tricky topic for Jon ever since he accepted the position as Head Archivist. Gertrude going missing with Elias being dodgy about what happened had originally made him very keen on avoiding to become another mystery. To make sure he documents and records everything to make sure that whoever took his job after he himself might go missing as well knew what happened.

Then the Not!Them took Sasha. Replaced her and erased her very existence from everyone's mind - Safe for Melanie. Christ, the fights he has had with Melanie over there only ever having been one Sasha at the Institute... Only because him along with everyone else had forgotten her entirely.

And Jon still can't remember her face. It's gone. Her voice, preserved on a few older tapes, he managed to retrieve. But those are all that is left of Sasha. The idea of entirely forgetting someone else... It's outright terrifying. And yet this is... It's not something he feels like sharing with Tony. The man has proven wary enough about the creatures Jon has had to deal with back in his world.

Instead, he chuckles, pulling his own legs under himself and shaking his head mildly "...you know I can't possibly play you that tape. Ever." Because there are tapes of his thoughts and observations from his time on Risa. Just as there are from his time on Temba. Recorded accounts of events and thoughts and confessions.

Jon reaches his other hand up now, the one he hasn't dropped moments before. The one bearing a large burn scar he earned from an unexpectedly painful handshake. This time his hand makes it all the way up to Tony's face, where he brushes the back of his fingers gently along the man's jaw. Which is a rare enough gesture for him, never having been one to initiate physical contact not born from panic or fear. Though he lets his fingers linger briefly before remarking almost thoughtfully "The most beautiful creature isn't exactly the wording I used, however."

It isn't. It is the most infuriating prig.

He lets his hand drop again with his gaze and stands up with a small sigh, none of the previous struggle in his movements remaining. It's clear enough that Tony has better places to be than indulge him any further - And Jon has embarrassed himself enough for one day.