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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"-and both doors nearly led me to my death at least once." Jon sighs, frowning. "Most of what you see in here has tried to kill me." He points towards the mannequin with the skin "The Stranger wanted to skin me alive." He points towards the coffin "The Buried, manifestation of claustrophobia, trapped me for weeks in a place outside of reality that neither lets you move, nor breathe, nor die." And he points at a small pile of fire extinguishers "Almost eaten alive by worms." He gets up and walks over to one of the shelves, picks up the knife and holds it against the scar at his neck - Simple one. He sets the knife down and tilts his head at the cleaver "...the Slaughter actually attacked me with a scalpel, but- I guess this works for the symbolism. Just as the explosives work for the Desolation, even though we used those to stop the circus." He gives a shrug, then turns back to his desk and points at the children's book on it without daring to touch it "This one nearly devoured me when I was eight."

He returns his attention back to Tommy and casts him a frown "As you can see, most everything in this room rather wants to harm me than you. Because for some reason every Entity and their followers wants to kill the Archivist. Yes, I am sorry for what I did to you, but I- I refuse to try and find excuses. I was weak, I was hungry and I am still trying to figure out a lot about all these things in here you might feel threatened by. Because so do I."

"Archivist? What the fuck is that?"

He has to wonder. But he's still not touching shit. Even as he watches Jon, and now everything else, in shock.

He takes one deep breath and then points up at the ceiling where the huge eye is still watching Tommy.

"The Archivist is the avatar of the Eye. Which is the manifestation of the fear of being watched, followed, judged - And of having your secrets revealed." Jon sets the pieces out for Tommy. For the boy to put them together himself. Which shouldn't be too hard by now.

"And that's why you get off on our fear," Tommy observes, not amused.

"I feed on it, Tommy. There's a difference between a necessity to survive and simple sadism." And he raises a placating hand before adding: "Which still is no excuse for what happened, I'm aware."

"Not much of a difference," Tommy grumbles, not even looking at Jon. "You looked like you were having fun, strong arming me like that."

Jon won't even make an attempt at justifying that, knowing full well that there is hardly a way to do so without comparing the action to having a much needed and very decent meal.

"I already said that I am not going to look for excuses for my actions."

Yeah, well, whatever. Tommy just glares at him.

"You do that shit to Billy or Wanda, and I will fuck you up."

"There is no need for those threats and you know that." Maybe acting like this is Tommy's way of handling his own anxiety. At the very least the boy seems hardly willing to talk things out. The complete opposite of his brother.

"What can I do to make you believe that I have no desire to harm any of your friends or family members?"

"I don't know that. I know what my brother is, and you stopped him with a look."

And that? That was troublesome. He was supposed to protect Billy. And anything he can't solve by taking it far away is something he has to deal with by killing. And Tommy has sworn off of hurting people whenever he can do it.

"I'll trust you as long as I don't hear about any recorders near them. But people betray other people all the time."

ANd he's been betrayed so much.

"I don't control the recorders." Jon remarks, indignation clear in his voice. "They appear because of me, but not because I consciously make them do so. However-" And he takes a moment to tap the single recorder on his desk with a single finger. "-they only seem to appear and turn on when something they deem important to record is about to happen. I don't know if the same is true here, but back at the Institute we have come to consider their appearance a warning."

How does he not control the recorders?

"They're little bits of electronics. They're not sentient!"

Jon sighs, then nods towards the casket "And that coffin is little more than a box made of wood. Yet it will sing to you once it rains and try to make you open it. I can unlock it if you want to look inside." The Buried is likely the last place Tommy ever wishes to be trapped in.

No, NOPE. Totally pass.

"Fucking hell I hate magic," he grumbles. "All you fucking magic people just make those of us who merely alter the laws of physics look pathetic."

"...merely altering the laws of physics." Jon repeats the words, unable to hold back on rolling his eyes a little. "What is pathetic about being able to do that, please? At least you get some practical use out of your powers. Me? I can make people answer my questions and have- What- What do I even call these? Tape recorder familiars?" And he visibly cringes at his own words. No, Tommy. He definitely thinks you're better off the way you are.

"My brother is a god, and future consort to a pretty massive space empire" Tommy counters. "My mother is a magical nexus. My Grandfather and Aunt could alter the polarity of the Earth's electrical field on a whim. My Cousin is a princess that can control and manipulate and sense emotions. My dad is one of the smartest computers in creation. And all I can do is run fast and make atoms vibrate faster to cause things to explode."

Really, in the grand scheme of things, his powers aren't even all that impressive.

"And there is nothing familiar about tape recorders. Those went out of style when the millennium changed over."

"Ah, n-no. That's not how I-- Have you never heard of familiars?" And he is left to give Tommy a look of wonder and disbelief, all that talk about godlike magic users that are part of the boy's family forgotten for the moment.

"S-surely you have heard of witches and their black cat familiars." Just to stick to the most commonly used example.That can't be a thing limited to his version of Earth.

...can it?

"You're not a witch, and those aren't cats, and as Billy likes to remind me, those are harmful stereotypes."

Yeah, he's not accepting your 'tape recorders are like cats' thing.

“...it was an analogy, Tommy.”

Yeah, that’s a groan. Come on. You know what an analogy is, don’t you?

He didn't finish high school and he doesn't think a GED counts.

"It's when you say something is like another thing but it's not, right?"

"It's a comparison between one thing and another, typically for the purpose of explanation or clarification."

Perfectly simple.

"Yeah, but how in the hell can you compare an inanimate object like a recorder with an actual cat?"

Like, that doesn't even make sense. And Tommy doesn't even get what a Familiar DOES.

“That- That’s just.... They kind of seem to be acting on their own?” Jon tries, now gesturing with his hands. “I mean. They certainly appear on their own. And the e cat... That’s just been the first creature that came to mind that is commonly considered to serve as a familiar. Would it make more sense if I had named a raven? A spider? Maybe a griffin?”

He’s getting a little exasperated now, trying to explain this further. “Yes, the recorders are no living beings. Just... It’s what I got? And I’m not claiming they are familiars. But- Christ.... Tommy.... Just accept the mental image as nonsensical, please.” Because that.... Kind of has been his point?

“I don’t know. Cats are just drawn with cartoon witches all the time,” Tommy frowns. So no, he doesn’t get it.

“I don’t understand any of this. It all makes no sense.”

Jon remains silent in response to that for a short while. At least Tommy's world must be familiar with the concept, given that the boy has seen cartoon witches displayed with cat familiars. So it really rather seems Tommy himself to have never heard of it.

Nodding contemplatively, Jon casts a look around for anything that might be helpful for this, but unfortunately his office has very little to offer in regards of research material. Now if this were the library, the matter would be easier to handle.

"...right." The Archivist says, then half-sits on the edge of his desk, dropping his clasped-together hands into his lap. "I will try to explain it, then. See..." And he takes another moment to arrange his own words before continuing "In European folklore and folk-belief of the Medieval and Early Modern periods, familiars - sometimes referred to as familiar spirits or animal guides - were believed to be supernatural entities that would assist witches and cunning folk in their practice of magic. According to the records of the time, they would appear in numerous guises, often as an animal, but also at times as a human or humanoid figure. When they served witches, they were often thought to be malevolent, while when working for cunning folk they were often thought of as benevolent. Although there was some ambiguity in both cases. The former were often categorized as demons, while the latter were more commonly thought of and described as fairies. The main purpose of familiars is to serve the witch or young witch, providing protection for them as they come into their new powers."

Here, Jon pauses, watching Tommy for his reaction and hoping his words make any sense for him now.

"Cats, especially black cats, have come to be considered one of the most stereotypical familiars for witches. Other common examples are ravens or dogs. And of course this folklore didn't remain in Europe, but... Let's not get started on the Salem witch trials." That's a messy piece of history. And probably one their versions of Earth still share.

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