revivalproject | Make your Statement, face your fear.

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Make your Statement, face your fear.

WHO: Jonathan Sims & YOU
WHERE: Jon's Calibration Room
WHAT: Explore the Archivist's mind
WHEN: During the Calibration Event [ June 3rd - July 10th ]
WARNINGS: EYES - Body horror, possible mentions of unsettling events including kidnapping, death and dreadful monsters

The Archivist's office is a mess. Most offices are. Especially offices located in basements. Offices that belong to equally chaotic archives. And the archives of the Magnus Institute are incredibly chaotic. Gertrude Robinson has seen to that. And yet the mess in this office isn't hers. It's the mess of the current Archivist, right now seated behind his cluttered desk, appearing even smaller than he actually is, the small lamp on the table serving as the only actual source of light in this room. In front of the Archivist sits a small pile of statement files on a dining plate, but his attention isn't on the files, it's on his visitor.

There are more of these files spread all over the room. Cardboard boxes full of them stacked high and pushed into whatever free corner has once existed in it. Further boxes are stacked less high or are plain lying around, some closed, some opened, some rummaged through. Other, smaller boxes that aren't filled with files join the previous ones. There are also a few metal shelves covering part of the walls. And file cabinets. There are more files in these as well as more boxes and books. Most of them scientific in nature, some deal with the arcane, myths and legends. Various types of tape recorders and boxes of tapes are also widely strewn about as well as loose pages of paper, the occasional tea mug and cobwebs. For some reason or another there are at least a dozen fire extinguishers to be spotted throughout the room, and it likely isn't due to the clearly used ashtray or the golden lighter with a cobweb design engraved onto it on the desk near the Archivist's dust-covered laptop, untouched cup of tea and the sole human rib. Aside from more stray sheets of paper and some writing equipment, a single book also resides on the desk, its title introducing it as A Guest for Mr. Spider.

Though there is more to be found in the various shelves as well. A knife as well as a cleaver, an unsuspecting whistle that seems to be surrounded by an odd fog and will vanish should one try to reach for it. Underneath one of the shelves, there even is a plain cardboard box filled with C-4 plastic explosives. Further up, a roughly football-sized dark sun dares the visitor to look at it to plunge them into utter and complete darkness. The frisbee some may recognize as a certain someone's shield seems a little out of place as it lays unassuming on one of the higher shelves, covering an odd little action figure from view.

But maybe one feels more compelled to look out of the window, suspiciously present in this basement office. Outside lies the vastness of space, set to incite the feeling of falling right into it unless one pulls away from the sight in time. Or the human-sized mannequin standing motionless in one of the corners, wearing an ancient gorilla skin along with its top hat and a wide, leery, painted-on grin. It has no eyes. The pulsing, black and red veins creeping along the walls of the office and present themselves in varying sizes and thicknesses may also draw the visitor's attention. Or the seemingly harmless and somewhat misplaced looking yellow door draws them in, just there on the wall behind that coffin lying on the floor as if it belongs there. Thick chains are wrapped around it with a padlock holding them close, key stuck inside and inviting the visitor to unlock it. Just ignore the large letters carved into its wood imploring you to 'DO NOT OPEN' the casket. It'll be fine.

Yet... How tempting all of these things may be, the visitor may be unable to entirely ignore the MASSIVE EYE taking up the entire ceiling of the room, glowing an eerie green and watching their every move. Or any of the other eyes scattered around the room. The walls, the cabinets, the shelves, the side of the Archivist's desk, the corners, the floor, the Archivist's forehead. All shapes and sizes and colors and all of them watching the visitor unblinking, unjudging. Just following their every move around the room - Just as the Archivist himself does.

Maybe you want to look around, and maybe you just want to take a seat in that single empty chair before the Archivist's desk. There is just enough room between it and the casket to not feel too cramped in. As for the trap door next to the Archivist's desk... Now that one won't open just yet.

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Cayde moving his hand away from his weapon allows Jon to ease up a little, though a certain tension yet remains even as he nods.

"R-remember that I- I told you to see? To... Understand? That... That's the Beholding. The ceaseless Watcher." He now points up "That's... Me." The pause that follows is only brief before Jon rambles on, starting to pace away from Cayde and through the cluttered room. "Beholding is all about knowledge. Watching, learning, understanding. I-I... I think I forced my understanding of the Dark on you? I mean- So far I have only known Elias to have this power, but obviously the rules here aren't the same as the ones we're used to. And Elias he- He puts... Things in people's heads? To hurt them? Terrible truths meant to break those receiving them. If you believed a loved one died peaceful in their sleep, he will show you what really happened. And make you understand every little detail."

And he stops abruptly to turn to the Exo again "Jesus. That's dreadful! I- I'm so sorry!"

He hasn't moved from where he leans, but his eyes flick upwards at the ceiling, at the eye that continues to watch, unblinking. The desire to throw something at it still hasn't vanished.

Cayde's eyes fall back upon Jon as the man starts to pace about, explaining. He remembers, swimming somewhere in the haze of what had just happened, that single word that had arrested his attention all at once and once it stole his focus gave way to so much.

Forcing someone else's understanding of something like that? And how much did Jon know of it? Too damn much, so far as Cayde's concerned. He's shaking his head, having a difficult time trying to process that Jon had just done something like that to him. "You can't-" he starts, his words overlapping Jon's, halting at the realization, the apology.

"You don't do that!" he continues, wills his voice to steady, the laugh all too brief, too forced. His hand hasn't returned to his gun, but his fingers curl into a fist beside it.

"I know and... I didn't mean to." The Archivist replies ruefully, head dropping apologetically "...I didn't even know this is something I can do- At least... Here." He doesn't miss the fist forming at Cayde's side, however, causing Jon to look up cautiously at his visitor.

"...how mad are you?" At least there is still a chance that Cayde won't remember this happened.

"Honestly, I'm pretty pissed," Cayde replies, running his other hand across his face as though he could rub out the memory. He forces himself away from the shelf, not that he particularly trusts his feet, but even in a dream he doesn't care for looking like something's got the better of him, even if in this case it did.

His other hand flexes, and finally he rests both at his hips, glowering at the floor. "...I'll get over it," he finally says. Voicing it at least makes him feel a little better.

"I understand." Jon says, keeping his head down but reaching his right hand over to his left arm, holding onto it for an inkling of security "I'm sorry. If I can do anything...?" He offers, risking a glance up at Cayde even though he is well aware of the Exo's posture and expression due to dozens of eyes still trained on his visitor.

Dozens of eyes that now begin to look around, each of them seemingly having decided to search the entire room for something, understandably catching the Archivist off-guard entirely and he takes a stumbling step backwards at the sudden influx of different images "-oh!"

The Exo waves a hand at that. What can Jon possibly do? Cayde's not having anyone else muck up his head if he can help it.

It's when Jon suddenly yelps that he looks over at the man again, blinking. He covers the distance between them in a step or two, reaching out to grab the Archivist by the shoulder. Looking at the nearby eyes his own optics narrow as he sees them flutter this way and that.

"-oh." Well that's weird. "Hey, Jon! Focus!" Cayde says, bringing up his fingers to snap in front of the other man's face.

"Jesus! This is worse than having them all stare at you from different angles!" Jon manages to force out, hands covering most of his face but mostly his own two eyes as he flinches slightly at the hold on his shoulder.

"-I- I think they--" He cuts off abruptly as all the eyes in the room focus on an old file cabinet standing at one of the walls. Nothing unusual about it. Just as old and worn looking as everything else in this basement office. Jon lets out a short groan, pointing at it. "Try... Try lo-looking in that one, w-would you? I think-- Key. There should be a- Key."

"I'll say, at least I'm easier on the eyes." Well, despite whatever'd happened, Cayde can still be Cayde, it seems.

"Whoa, what're they doin'..." He watches as the eyes all fixate elsewhere, and thankfully it's not his backside, but wow if that isn't weird. On a whim he steals a glance up at the one on the ceiling to see if it's looking elsewhere too. When Jon points to the cabinet, Cayde steps back from him to follow the eyeballs with a frown.

"Key? To what, rebooting your eyeballs? ...this ain't a trap, is it?" He walks over to the filing cabinet, checking with the position of the eyes to make sure he's got the right thing that Jon was pointing at. Well, like the Exo needs any excuses to go tugging open closed doors. Or in this case, closed drawers.

"...don't worry. It's not a trap." Jon replies with a heavy sigh while dropping back down onto his chair, watching Cayde approach the cabinet before turning his attention to the floor nest to his desk "-it's the trap door. I... I believe. The key for it. I believe they are offering you a way out. I didn't know where it leads to, but-- I do now."

And while he isn't going to say it out loud, Jon is inclined to agree that it has been less painful to have various views of the same person rather than everything just spinning about.

The Exo pauses from yanking on the drawer and actually laughs. Oh, he's still miffed about earlier but this just strikes him as funny somehow.

"They wanna get rid of me that much? I'm torn between feeling hurt and vindicated that I am that much of a distraction." His shoulders shake with a chuckle as he pulls open the drawer so he can rummage for the key.

"You sure it's a way out? Trapdoors usually don't strike me as...exits."

"If it weren't the way out, I doubt the key would be hidden somewhere without my knowledge. I-- I actually kept my copy for it in my desk. And the trapdoor... Shouldn't be within my office." Leaning back a little in his seat, Jon takes a moment to consider the huge eye above them, concluding that it is, indeed, still quite unsettling.

"I mean- The decision is up to you. But I can assure you that you won't find many pleasant things here."

"We all got our secrets and our terrible experiences, Jon," Cayde says as his hand brings up a key. "If your headspace was full of rainbows and daisy fields, I might get worried. This the key?"

He looks back towards Jon, trying to ignore the eyes, the other strange and probably disturbing things in the room that he still can't deny having some sick curiosity to poke at.

"Think I'll fold. You gotta put up with me enough outside anyway. At least there's less eyes out there."

The question for the key is answered with a nod "Sometimes I would prefer the rainbows, though." Fewer eyes, you know? And yet there's a part in him that finds a certain appeal in how unsettling the eyes make this place. But better not question his own somewhat odd taste too much.

Jon gets up again and steps over to the trap door, kneeling down to push a few statements aside and unveiling the heavy padlock. "Let me answer any further questions without planting those answers straight into your head." Not every detail needs to be known, right?

Cayde deftly twirls the key between his fingers as he shoves the drawer closed again and steps over to where Jon's gone.

"That'd be much appreciated," he says, watching as the Archivist clears the trap door. He holds out the key. "Speaking of which- can you do that outside of...all this?" His hands gesture vaguely around them. It is an important question that he feels he has every right to be concerned about, even if he asks as casually as one might ask the weather.

Jon looks up to accept the key, but blinks at the question "You- You mean the eyes? Or the-" He gestures vaguely at his own face. "-the... Putting things into your head? I mean... No. Not that I know of, at least? I neither have eyes everywhere, nor can I, ah... Implant knowledge. Those are Elias' powers. I just... I mean I am tied to the Eye as its avatar, I guess?" He looks down at those words, taking the key and inserting it into the padlock.

"...but all I do is... I know things. I can... I guess I can only take knowledge, memories... From people. Either by asking them to tell me or by-" Jon looks back up, his face almost a little apologetically "-reaching in and... Pull it out. It's not pleasant. I'd rather avoid it."

"Well those too, I guess," Cayde says after brief consideration. Having eyeballs all over the place would definitely be uncomfortable. How's a guy going to sneak around??

That Jon says no to both that and his demonstration from earlier makes the Exo feel marginally better. Except when the Archivist goes on to explain of the things he can do. Eyes narrow at that, but when Jon looks up, Cayde's expression softens a little. He sighs, then crouches down beside the man so he can be at eye-level with him. At least the eyes that count.

"Avoid it. You wanna know something, you ask me all honest-like. None of this...stuff."

The request puts an easy to miss smile to Jon's face "That's what I have been doing this entire time, Cayde. I... I'm careful to not compel anyone to answer me." He's trying to sound reassuring, but obviously isn't sure if he is managing that alright.

"Yet I will admit, it's not always easy. I want to know too many things." A bit of a confession as he turns the key and unlocks the trap door for Cayde.

The Exo nods. "...good." Enough. Good enough. He'll take that. Jon doesn't strike him as the type to be careless.

"Knowledge is dangerous. The more you know, the more you're responsible for, right?" Or something like that. He tilts his head, then shakes it, shrugging the matter off. And then he pauses to take a long look down at the trap door once it's open.

"...you sure about this?"

And Cayde is right, Jon is well aware of that. But can he help being curious despite how unhealthy the outcome might be? Unfortunately not.

"Don't worry, Cayde. If I send you out the wrong way, I will get you back. But with this one- I'm certain."

"All right then." Cayde looks at the Archivist again, but he seems satisfied with what's said.

"Well then. Guess I'll see you on the flip side." He stands again, peering down the trap door. "You know, if this ends up being only four feet deep, I'm going to feel just a little embarrassed."

And then with a shrug he snaps off a salute and hop-steps right over the opening and down.

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Make your Statement, face your fear.

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