revivalproject | What do you see?

Entry tags:

What do you see?

WHO: Jon & You
WHERE: Temba
WHAT: Energy Storm of FEAR
WHEN: End of October/Beginning of September
WARNINGS: A few vague body horror descriptions

A - Throughout the City

Of course they were greeted by a storm. A storm not only messing with their powers, but also making them see things that have no right to be there. But if the Archivist is accustomed to one thing, then it's his fears manifesting and attempting to kill him.

Fortunately, these are merely illusions. Projections of actual terrors Jon has already encountered in his life. And while he still fears them, he knows way too well that these projections aren't real. It's this understanding that lets him move past their mocking faces and threatening stances with a stubborn scowl as he searches the city for those actually trapped by their own fears.

"I am very proud of you." The ever present specter of a tall man in an expensive suit croons with satisfaction in his tone and the way he has his hands flawlessly clasped behind his back as he follows along. A tall mannequin dressed as a ringmaster follows close to him along with a woman wearing the remains of a red dress, her body honeycombed with holes of varying sizes out of which a seemingly endless stream of worms pours down to the ground, resulting in a squirmy trail left in her wake. But those are but the first three of the Archivist's little entourage of terrors that every once in a while passes a seemingly stray yellow door. There is also that short woman that seems to be melting. The massive monstrosity of a man who barely holds the shape of a person. The two identical deliverymen. The old man and the young woman who easily look like murderous maniacs. That strangely stretched-out being whose long limbs may or may not actually be able to appear like a person. And at the very end that perfectly normal looking woman with the focused look on her face and the knife at her hip.

"Hello?" Jon calls out as he reaches the next building and looks inside, his following lingering nearby and muttering a variety of taunts Jon stubbornly refuses to hear. "Is anyone in there? Do you need help? I- I believe I can help!"

B - He Row Soup Lies Building

"... Right." Jon mutters with an exhale as he tosses another stuffed thing aside and pulls out the blanket underneath to hand it to the nearest person. "At least we're remotely safe in here." Safe, of course, being relative, considering their overall situation. "And I can say that the library is putting up well enough with this storm." And yet that building can hardly be considered a shelter.

Jon turns around from where he has been going through some of the boxes, leaning on the table with one hand and its restlessly tapping index finger as he addresses no one in particular. "Does anyone even recall how long these storms last?" There is a plethora of further questions Jon has already lined up to ask, but knowing that there likely aren't going to be any answers is nothing but frustrating.

It's the way the tone of his own tapping finger changes slightly that has Jon look down at his own hand and frown at what he is seeing. Rather than tapping on wood, he is now tapping the cover of a book. And it's reading the book's title that makes him freeze, seize the book that has no business feeling this solid in his grip and angrily hurl it out into the storm before the idea of actually opening it can even cross his mind. "No!"

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Maybe it was a ridiculous thing, seeing Raphael huddled in a corner within the building for all that he'd made no secret of his love to punch things. But there were things out there with legs, and while he was no stranger to hallucinations, it still doesn't make them any more bearable.

He accepts the blanket looking only slightly sheepish, but he's not putting on a brave face when he can swear he sees multiple eyes out there, and hear the scritchy-scratch of insect legs. Pulling the blanket around himself, he's grateful for its warmth. Turtles don't mind being wet and in the rain but this storm has just been wrong from the start. Maybe he didn't take it as serious as he should have before, but now that they're experiencing an actual one, he has no idea what they're expected to do.

Jon's sudden shout nearly makes him jump, and he looks over as the man throws out...a book? Was that Jon's fear? But then he'd picked a terrible occupation if it was.

If there is something that Pidge is good at, it's blocking out negative comments. Or comments in general. Whatever this storm was doing she just has to deal with it. Right? Even if her specters were friends and family taunting her about how incompetent she was.

Which she wasn't. Pidge knows this. It was a little irritating to have a tall man with two-toned hair telling her things she knows Shiro would never say. If she holds on to the actual people's mannerisms, she could ignore whatever this storm was trying to do.

It's a real voice, maybe real, that shakes her from her thoughts about who she has to hurt to keep this kind of storm from happening again. She looks over and blinks a few times. This person seems real enough. "No, I don't really need any help. There's no one else in here but me."

After glaring out into the storm where the book has vanished into for a few more moments, Jon turns back with a displeased expression, dismissing the occurrence with a simple "Sorry about that." Right. This was just one book and it probably wasn't even real.

It still bothers him that it has appeared within their supposed shelter. Which is not a worry he will be placing on anyone else, however. Instead, he looks over to Raphael and inclines his head a little. "You doing okay? Still got plenty of soup. Maybe we're luckier with the taste of those."

"No one but yourself..." Jon repeats those words with a frown and a glance around for whichever specters the storm has picked for this person - Who he then realizes is someone he hasn't even met before. Which makes him blink twice in turn and fully direct his attention at the stranger.

"Wait- I don't know you. Are you- Have you just arrived during this storm?!" Speak of dreadful first impressions of an already unwelcome environment.

"I...don't know. Ugh, this storm sucks," Raphael grumps, hunching under the blanket with a scowl. He glances at Jon though, considering the offer of soup. "...guess soup won't hurt. Not doin' anything else anyway..." And being warmer certainly won't hurt.

He starts to shift from where he's been sitting, only to pause as he stares out the doorway, lightning silhouetting a tall, unnatural figure with blade-like protrusions standing somewhere further out. It's gone in the next flash, but the turtle flinches at the thunder that follows.

The verbal acceptance of the soup offering is a good start, and Jon manages a little smile in response. Maybe if they can keep the spirits up here in their little shelter things will be fine.

He is holding out the container towards Raphael when the turtle suddenly stops and stares at the entrance of the building just as another flash of lightning illuminates everything. And while Jon turns around in wonder, there is nothing in the door for him to see. But... He can guess.

"I mean... They shouldn't be able to come in here." Jon tries to assure, turning away from the door again. "They're illusions. We shouldn't forget that. Illusions can't hurt us." He hopes. He really, really hopes. His attention falls onto the box he has been going through. "...you know, I really wouldn't mind a few fire extinguishers right now anyway."

Raphael grits his teeth. "If he does, I'll stab him in his stupid faceplate." He clenches his fists tightly around the blankets, forcing himself to look back towards Jon. "...a-are you sure though? Back out there...there were times I coulda swore..."

He shudders, remembering the masses of roaches, the sensation of them crawling everywhere. Finally he reaches out to take the soup, carefully sipping at it. Thankfully it doesn't taste like peanut butter, and it gives him something to distract himself with. "Fire extinguishers..?" Green eyes flick towards Jon, inquisitively.

"I'm about as sure as I can be, Raphael." Jon answers honestly, not quite sure whom the turtle wants to stab in their faceplate. But he isn't going to question that decision, either. Raphael will have his reasons. "But you are right. Some of these illusions are disturbingly realistic."

He is turning back to the box he has been unpacking and sets a few more cans on the nearby table, sorting them into the already unpacked supplies. The question about the fire extinguishers has him pause, then cast a furtive look Raphael's way. "They... Can come in handy. Always keep a few dozen down in my Archive in case we get attacked again."

At least he's not imagining it. As disconcerting as it may be to have someone confirming that these illusions are much more than physical, it's also kind of a relief, in some weird way. Misery loves company, they say, although maybe not quite necessarily in that sense.

Raphael smirks a little at the thought of the Archivist armed with a fire extinguisher. "Well, Master Splinter did tell us that anything can be a weapon."

Maybe not inside, but somewhere further down the way, there's a heavy, wet-sounding thud.

It's probably not too surprising that a certain ARC Trooper is now prone on the ground, slowly trying to push himself upright again. Mud marks his armor as rivulets rain water begin to streak through the newest stains, but that is the lowest priority on his list in the moment.

"Alright, this is getting ridiculous," Echo grunts through the helmet's vocabulator, looking off to one side like someone's been following him. But he vaguely recalls hearing Jon a few seconds ago. Maybe he should try calling back in response while he can. "–Hello? Hey!"

"Well, it's true enough that most things can be weaponize. I personally just like to be able to defend myself if necessary." Jon agrees and picks up his cup of tea, which he has been leaving nearby. With the still hot beverage in hand, the Archivist fully turns towards the turtle. "This Master Splinter... Would you mind telling me a little more about him?"

Misery may love company, but as far as Jon is concerned, misery isn't too fond of being distracted from. And talking about something unrelated to this storm seems like a good enough way to distract themselves.

Nursing his soup, which seems more like liquid salt than anything else, but it's a flavor other than PB&J at least, Raphael at least doesn't feel as tense as he'd been earlier. He watches Jon take up his cup.

"His real name's Yoshi Hamato. He was born in Japan, into one of the last surviving ninja clans, the Hamato. He had an adopted brother, Saki Oroku, and I guess it wasn't widespread but he was actually from a rival clan, the Foot. Don't know how he found out, but eventually it was one of the things that came between them. They also fell for the same girl, so things really got messed up when she chose Yoshi over Saki, not that it stopped him from going after her."

He shakes his head. It was hard to believe that his father and the man who would later become the Shredder had even been so close at all. "There was a big fight, and a fire. Saki believed Yoshi died in it, although not before he'd also killed the woman they'd both loved, because she jumped between them when he struck out at Yoshi. Saki also ended up taking their daughter, since he thought she was orphaned. But Yoshi survived, and he thought he'd lost everything.

"He moved to New York, tried to get a fresh start. That's where he bought us- er, we were still just your average pet shop turtles then- me and my brothers." Raphael smiles briefly. He doesn't remember a whole lot of when they were young, but Splinter would tell them plenty of stories from after their mutation. "And then aliens happened and we all changed. Okay, it was more of a being at the wrong place at the wrong time, but it got us all exposed to mutagen. The last thing Yoshi came into direct contact with was a rat."

The voice pulls the Archivist's attention away from the building and in Echo's direction. Even though the modulated voice sounds a little different, especially with the added storm, Jon can recognize it as the armored man's voice.

"Echo?" He calls out while making his way over to the trooper, his following tagging along but only being ignored even more once Jon catches sight of Echo. He asks before thinking about it, his words flickering with a hint of his Compulsion. "Are you alright?"

Jon has begun sipping his tea while listening to Raphael. He doesn't interrupt, merely listens attentively. This is a lot more in-depth than what he has expected, but he appreciates the detail. Especially for the added understanding it earns him for the turtle and his situation.

And it all started with regular human beings living more or less regular human lives. Lives that were interrupted by a tragedy and led to a man seeking to start a new live in a different country. And suddenly there were aliens.

Jon stops sipping his tea somewhere around the aliens and settles with just looking at Raphael for the remaining bit.

"...Christ." He mutters, but holds on to his tea. "I take it this mutagen... It's not a substance normally found on Earth." At least he has never heard of it until now.

Raphael snorts. "Nope. It's from the Kraang's Dimension X. They'd been trying for centuries to mutate the Earth into something like their home but the mutagen's effects weren't working the way they were wanting it to."

He sets the bowl down, empty now as he tries to rid the saltiness stuck on his tongue. "Wasn't bad, but wasn't the greatest... We got water or anything?"

Echo holds his head, groaning as he tries looking up again. "Jon? Is that you?" As he struggles to get to his feet, he squints, almost uncertain if this is all real or not. "Please tell me you're real– "

A double-take ensues after getting a closer look at the Archivist's oncoming entourage. "–What the hell is all this?"

"Nope. Been here a while now." Was this guy alright? He seems a bit out of it. Pidge feels herself tense up just in case something happens. Watching the man with some wariness. Who was he glancing around for.

"I was just exploring in here since it's relatively safe from what's going on outside."

"Yeah, it's me." Jon answers and quickly lends a hand to the clone to help him up. "And I want to hope I'm real. If I am an illusion, I'd appreciate not getting soaked through by this rain." He is about to ask what has happened when Echo cuts in at the sight of Jon's little collection, of which a few of the assorted creatures even greet the man with wide, sharp-toothed grins and almost friendly little waves.

Jon just makes a displeased face as he glances at the specters, but quickly focuses on Echo again. "Just things that want me dead. Ignore them-" "How very RUDE!" A potentially female voice cuts in just as the yellow door appears right next to Echo and Jon. The voice goes on, sounding from seemingly nowhere, taking on a tone that is equally taunting as patronizing. "Maybe your friend just needs a door, Archivist. You know how it is. You have to share!"

"She is right, Jon." Another adds, this one the middle-aged man in the fine, tailored suit. He gives a falsely comforting smile. The sort of smile that already berates you before any words are spoken. "I know you are proud of your catch, and so are we. But keeping your victims to yourself? That's very impolite and you know it."

The hand-up helps the ARC Trooper immensely, maintaining his balance once he feels like the ground is underneath him. "I'd say you're real," he says, still distracted at the sight of Jon's 'friends.' "You're not trying to kill me, for one– "

His train of thought is interrupted as certain ghosts react; his instincts making him more tense than usual now that the storm is underway, so the clarity of the female voice reinforces it. The sudden appearance of the yellow door almost makes him jump, unintentionally staying in a defensive fighting stance as the middle-aged man speaks.

It's not hard to imagine his face with all of this going on. "...Are they always like this?" The helmet then twitches, turning toward Jon. "Wait – catch? Victims?"

Aliens attacking Earth with the intention of changing the entire planet into something else. That's still a weird concept to Jon, but he feels like he should be glad about that lack of familiarity.

"I brought tea if you like some." He offers in regards of the easier matter, raising his own mug as if to prove his words before reaching for one of the nearby empty mugs and pulling it closer to indicate that, yes, he has also brought a few extra mugs. Of course there is also water around if Raphael prefers that, but... Tea is better. At least in Jon's opinion.

"And you are fighting these Kraang for the sake of your world, from what I have gathered. That's quite the impressive task."

"I-It... It's complicated." Jon replies, eyes quickly darting from Echo over to the still grinning illusion of Elias and back. At about that moment a low, harrowing shriek tears through the sky as it cracks open from what feels like one end of the horizon to the other.

And then the sky slowly blinks its one, massive eye open, to watch.

Jon just stands for a few moments, staring at the most recent addition of his haunts, then manages to close his mouth again to turn back to Echo, his manner and gesturing now more agitated. "Look, I- ah... I can explain. Just- L-let's get to t-t-the shelter. Out of the storm! Away from--" He just vaguely gestures around them. The door somehow scoffs.

"N-no. I mean- You weren't on the Agrii ship. Or any of the shuttles! How long have you--" Jon all but gestures, but cuts his question off before he can complete it. For her this must be even more bewildering than him right now. And while Jon has plenty of questions, this person probably won't be able to answer any of them - And it remains questionable whether or not the Agrii know how there were some new people being brought to Agra 10 and others suddenly appeared on the huge ship.

He takes a moment to gather himself and sort his thoughts, then simply starts over. "I'm sorry. I- I'm Jon. And... At the town center, near the old hotel, there is a small building that is safe from the storm and its effects. Some of the others are already there, waiting out the storm. And I- I apologize. We have been off-planet for probably months and only returned recently. You probably have questions."

"Tea? Guess I could do tea." While he isn't the biggest tea person, it makes Raphael think of his father, who would usually prepare a cup for himself and whichever son he was having a heart-to-heart with.

"But yeah, pretty much. I mean...it's home. Not like we have much other choice. It's tough that we still gotta do it while being mostly unknown to the human population, but not a whole lot of them are crazy about mutants, and unfortunately most of the mutants they've probably seen are the ones that we've had to stop from wrecking everything."

"How complicated are we talking– what the?!"

Echo spits an unfamiliar swear, also looking up once Jon looks back at him. Fortunately for the both of them, he's still able to move his legs. It's just hard to ignore a giant eye taking up what used to be a gray, stormy sky.

"Yeah, you've got lots of explaining t'do," the ARC Trooper grouses, determined to get to wherever this shelter is. It'll be safer to discuss things indoors than out in the open, anyway.

How complicated? Complicated enough. That sure is the promise made by the massive, unblinking eye above.

"Huh. Should've killed you when I had the chance after all." The perfectly normal looking woman comments off-handedly, her attention up at the sky. Most of the remaining terrors hardly react to the eye above. A few sneer or growl a little, one or two chuckle. The specter of Elias only grins wider, practically beaming with pride while Jon makes an effort to ignore the uninvited group once more.

"I know. I know." The Archivist replies through grit teeth, the words directed at Echo. Though his voice returns to wavering. "Just- Let's move. It's... It's not far. N-next to the hotel."

Moving on is the best course of action. That and ignoring the rest of the party.

"The closer, the better," Echo agrees, each step stiff at first before he's able to smooth out his gait. "I don't wanna wait around for another surprise."

Obviously he has great timing when he says this, because a voice calls out of nowhere.

'Thought you could run, Echo? You aren't even trying!'

This voice sounds like Echo's, albeit deeper and gruffer in its tone. And Echo bites back an aggravated sigh. "–Knew I couldn't lose them," comes some modulated muttering. This forces him to pick up the pace. "Lead the way, Jon!"

Nodding at the acceptance of some tea, Jon offers the now filled mug over to Raphael along with a little half-smile. "Oh, I hear you on that. Maybe not the- You know. The mutant-bit. But my predecessor, the previous Archivist. She saved the world plenty of times and most people aren't even aware of the dangers she vanquished."

The Institute may be known to people at least around London, maybe even some further parts of Britain, but no one really takes it seriously. Jon himself hasn't taken it too seriously when he first applied for a job in Research. But maybe that's exactly why Gertrude has been so successful at interrupting potentially world-ending rituals over the decades.

"May I ask if you know other mutants that fight on your side?"

The voice catches Jon's attention for a moment, but it's quickly pulled back to Echo at the man's urging to get moving, which Jon does, mindful to keep an eye on Echo in case the clone falls again.

As they move, the long, distorted figure that has been part of the group following Jon around separates from the rest, long limbs with too many joints carrying it quickly as it calls out with an equally distorted and oddly vibrating, yet still eager voice. "More friends? Goood!" The words trail off into a rattling hiss as the creature skitters onward and easily past Echo and Jon, joining up with the yet again waiting door.

"Who is following you?" Jon asks, not daring to look behind them, yet fully aware that the voice he has just heard was almost identical to Echo's. At least he can already see the hotel and the smaller building next to it the Agrii are keeping safe somehow.

Raphael murmurs a thanks as he takes the mug, soaking in the warmth with his hands for a moment. "Well, after the Kraang have nearly taken over twice, people in New York at least are definitely aware that there are crazy aliens out there."

He sips the tea, still not understanding the point of it when it mostly seems like just some flat, hot water to him, but it warms him up and helps wash away the saltiness from the soup he'd drank earlier, so he won't complain. "Huh? Oh yeah. There's a team of them- led by my pal Spike. Er... Slash, now. Spike was his name when he was my pet turtle. He's the leader, and then there's Leatherhead, who's a giant alligator, Doctor Rockwell who used to be this scientist until his partner started using him as the experiment instead so now he's a psychic monkey, and Pigeon Pete, who's utterly useless, really. Oh, and Mondo Gecko, who's...just about as useless but I guess he tries." Which...is all he can say, really. Of course, he's used to them so he doesn't find anything strange about describing them as he does. It..might be a bit for Jon to swallow though.

There's a smug air in the distant clone's chuckling, amused by the other illusive presences.

'Look at this,' the illusion grandly gestures. 'Just look at him, runnin' scared! You think walkin' with a civilian'll keep us away? You didn't even stick with that so-called Jedi back there! Sloppy work, ARC Trooper.'

Like Jon, Echo doesn't look back. "Hevy," comes his eventual answer, a touch of sadness tinging his overall annoyance. "I had some trouble with him earlier. But if he's here, that means Cutup and Droidbait aren't that far behind..."

"...Droidbait." Jon echoes the name with a hint of disbelief at the names he's been given. "But what do they want? I mean, aren't they-" -other clones? Jon doesn't finish the sentence, but a short gesture of his hand probably makes the intended words clear. "Are they trying to bait you into a fight?" At least they're calling Echo a coward.

He points up the small building up ahead without slowing down. "It's right over there. The storm has no effect in there."

"I know," Echo's immediate reply goes hand-in-hand with Jon's momentary disbelief. He does realize clone culture is weird to anyone outside of being a clone, but he'll get to it once they're technically safe.

A few more clone voices drift in and out in the distance, but he at least doesn't have to hurry as much as he would have if the building was farther away. "They kind of did, earlier," Echo begins to explain, limply gesturing at himself. "Hevy did most of this. Cutup talks, but this one knew how to hurl insults. And Droidbait...he was awful and tried to lead me off a cliff when I was running over here.

"He almost did it, too," the ARC Trooper chuffs, although mirthless in meaning. "But none of them are supposed to be like this."

"I'm pretty sure I was on the ship since I've been stuck not at home for quite a while now." Almost two months now. Pidge keeps to herself, though, so not seeing her out and about was not something all too surprising. "Even went to a party to see just how many people were actually on the ship."

See, the hotel sounds nice and all... "I'm not done searching. I'll get to safety once I feel like I've seen enough." As for questions? She has a few, but she should be a little politer. "Pidge. And I've been in space before. For a few years. I doubt you can answer anything that I can't figure out on my own or Lance and Keith filled me in on."

"Well, of course not. This storm, it... I believe it draws on our fears. Our worries. Manifests them and blows them out of proportion to use them against us." As he says this, Jon casts a quick glance back at his own following. His own fears...

They reach the small building they have been approaching and Jon pushes the door open to let Echo into this little Agrii-provided shelter at the center of the city. At least that should rid them of their respective illusions for the time being.

Upon getting to the shelter, Echo clicks his tongue. "You're tellin' me," he says, the tension running through his body slowly releasing once they're out of the rain and temporarily safe from their respective illusions. The helmet dips forward, forming rivulets that drip off and down the front of his armor. "They're not exactly fears, but..."

How can he put this? A lot of thought has built up and he now has the time to sort through everything. He may as well tell a little more about his own history considering that Jon has seen the result of his personal ghosts.

"...They used to be a part of a unit I trained with back on Kamino. Hevy, Droidbait, Cutup, Fives and I made up the Domino Squad. We weren't the best cadets, but we all set our sights on becoming ARC Troopers." Another pause, and he goes to break the seal of his helmet so that he can remove it. "Cal warned me about this, but...it happened. And it still affected him, too."

After making sure the door is closed behind them, Jon walks further into the building's main room and towards where most supplies have been stored. "Fears appear in many shapes and variations. It's not only deep terrors that haunt us at night. They are also our concerns, uncertainties and anxieties. Especially those we don't necessarily perceive as such." He sets up some water to be boiled before turning back around to tilt his head slightly in Echo's direction.

"An unhealthy companionship is a trait associated with the Corruption, the fact that they have hunted you obviously points towards the Hunt and that they seemed off is an aspect of the Stranger." Jon lets that piece sit for a moment, then lightly gestures towards the doors. "I can even tell you which ones of the creatures following me were the respective avatars of those Fears, but..." A little shrug before concern settles on his face. "You said Cal was affected as well. Is he out there in the city somewhere? Have you seen him?"

The way Jon categorizes and delves into the topic shouldn't surprise Echo; he did say he was an Archivist and that he deals with supernatural phenomena on a regular basis, so having a near-encyclopedic knowledge of such really gives more of a concrete background to work with.

"A Corruption? That's comforting to know," he comments, obviously not comforted in the slightest if Jon catches onto the change in his now unmodulated tone. He tucks the helmet under an arm, heading inward to look at whatever is stored in the shelter. "That and this Hunt you're talking about is bad enough, but what – or who – is the Stranger?"

His steps slow as he looks for a clear spot to sit down for a while, his mouth forming a line before his lips part again to speak. "I left Cal on the shuttle." Regret is very clear in how tight the statement ends. "I'm sure he hates me a bit more for running off like that, but no one was responding to his calls. So I headed out. I tried to used the communication device to keep him informed, but I don't know if anything actually went through."

Brown eyes then glance upward to meet Jon's gaze. "Although it's still risky, I intend to head back out there as soon as possible." As he lets that sink in, he eventually asks, "...Which ones were actual Fears in your case?"

No, none of this is comforting at all. And that includes the part where Cal may be wandering the city as well. Hence it's with a concerned frown that Jon looks back at the clone trooper, lips pressed into a thin line as he turns that possibility over in his mind.

But one thing at a time. He nods with a sigh. "I... I said it's complicated. They were all... Fears. In a way. The avatars of said fears, to be precise. And- These fears, these... Entities. They are beings that exist outside of reality itself and feed on the deep fears of all living beings. And while it's a bad allegory, think of them as evil gods, if you like? And these avatars are their followers. The Stranger, for example, being the fear of the unknown, the uncanny, the unfamiliar. The creeping sense that something isn’t right. Its present avatars were the two deliverymen Breekon & Hope, Nikola Orsinov, who was once a clown, then let himself be turned into a mannequin, the one wearing the ringmaster uniform. Then there is the NotThem... Basically a changeling. Dreadful thing. That was the, ah- The really stretched out one."

Jon pauses there, folding his hands in front of him and taking a deep breath before going on. "And most of those creatures, these avatars you just saw... Tried to kill me. They're responsible for all these scars you see." He unfolds his hands to use the one marked by a big burn scar to gesture at the scar across his neck and the patches of pockmark-like scars littering his face. "There are a few more covered one. And Jared took two of my ribs." Another pause, and a sigh. "They usually aren't as amiable as these illusions, but I suppose that's because as long as they act hostile towards me, I can still pretend I have not yet fully turned into a monster myself yet. So before you ask: Yes. I'm an avatar myself. I am the Archivist, avatar of the Eye. The fear of being followed, watched and having your darkest secrets known. I can sense... See peoples' fears."

Is this a lot? Yes, this is a lot and Jon is perfectly aware of it, so he turns back around to use the by now boiling water to start preparing some tea.

It really is a lot to take in.

Echo's full attention latches onto Jon's winding explanations of who these Fears are and what they represent, his brow furrowing with every name brought up. But he leans back a bit when he gets into the more violent encounters he's had with the few left on the list, eyes widening once the Archivist drops the small, metaphorical bombshell of a tie to all of these avatars.

There really isn't much to say when one has to process all of it in its accompanying silence, but the clone has a viable comment once he finds his voice again. "No wonder you're used to this. You've already gone through an experience ten times worse than this..."

Although it begs another question, somewhat related to what has been already answered. "What do you mean by 'pretend?' How long have you been like this?"

Well, it's about as winding and complicated as Jon has promised, at least. And there is still plenty he hasn't even touched upon yet. Is it any surprise that he is already going grey?

Jon leaves the tea to sit after listening up at Echo's question. "Hm... Two years now. Give or take a few months. I don't... I don't really know the exact date the... Change started. According to my boss it's a choice I made through my actions, but..." He shrugs. "I had no idea these things even existed until it was too late. And right now I... I only hope I can remain as human as possible for as long as I can. I have no idea what I will eventually turn into. As it is I already can't simply die anymore. I heal faster than I can cut off any of my fingers, I hardly sleep and food..." He gives a short, dry laugh and starts filling two mugs with the tea. "I feed on other peoples' fears. And I don't like that. It- It's dreadful. But at the same time it feels... Right."

Picking up the two mugs, Jon then walks over to where Echo is sitting and kneels down next to the clone to offer one of the hot beverages to him. "And I'm not going to make this a competition, but I only deal with supernatural entities, you fight in an intergalactic war, doing your best in the face of actual horrors. To me that's far more terrifying than being chased by hideous monsters. What awaits you out there is far more horrid than my collection of insubstantial terrors. I will look for Cal- And anyone else who might be out there. As I said: I can sense a person's fear." Like an animal tracking down a food source.

It certainly is a bit to swallow. But at least Jon has encountered weird beings in his own world already to be a little less perturbed. The idea of a mutant turtle keeping a pet turtle, however, is a little odd. As is that some of those beings' names are remarkably telling as of what animals these people were crossed with. Strange, but... Fine.

"Well, I'm glad to hear you and your brothers aren't alone in facing an alien threat." Even Jon has had to come to admit that having comrades and friends one can trust are important. "Do you work with them a lot?"

"Not a whole lot, but I think we're more open to it. My older brother Leonardo, he wasn't that big on it. He didn't trust Slash's ability to lead...or Slash in general, but I guess that was to be expected since Slash did try to kill him and the rest of my brothers before..."

Raphael grimaces a little at that. That had been his fault. He hadn't realized how much of his negativity had influenced his little friend even before he'd accidentally mutated.

"Slash proved himself though. He's changed a lot. Learned from Leo. I'm not the only one he'd watched all those years, after all."

Echo doesn't mind the complexity and length that's necessary for Jon to talk about these things. Even if part of it is covered, it's still information that gives him a fraction of insight on how Jon thinks and functions.

Two years, however, is both a short and a long expanse of time. And to see Jon acknowledge the foray into a type of immortality the way he does is...rather unnerving.

Fortunately, the degree of nonchalance the Archivist exudes steers it into a more matter-of-fact issue lower on the short list of priorities they have right now. "Horrors on a spectrum, maybe," he says, accepting the mug offered, since these fears sound challenging on another level. A steady sip is followed by a nod. "Again, thanks for helping me out. We'll be able to cover more ground this way."

"Sounds like you and your brothers hardly ever find some time to relax." Jon muses, frowning a little bit. Not that he is in any position to judge, but he knows he is missing having some quieter times to himself back in London.

"Do you miss them? I mean... Here."

"We get some downtime, but yeah, when you got aliens or ninja with a vendetta out for your head, not a whole lot. I was looking forward to a break cuz we just got back from a space trip- and then...well, this." Raphael gestures in general around them. He sighs, then knocks back the rest of his tea now that it's not scalding hot.

"Miss...what? Time to relax or my brothers? Yes to both. It's...been super weird not having them around. I know I have...moments when my temper gets the better of me and I say I'd be better off on my own but... I love my brothers. They can drive me crazy sometimes, but we're family."

Jon nods once. "I- I may not have any siblings, but I heard they can be quite infuriating at times. Missing your family is only natural." And yet for Jon it remains a topic he can't fully relate with. He can't even claim he is actively missing anyone or anything from his home world.

Taking a sip, the Archivist shrugs, eyes settling on the contents of his mug as he frowns. "As far as we know, our stay here is only temporary. Sooner or later we will return home, whether we like the idea or not. You... You will Be getting mad at your brothers again soon enough."

"Oh man, you have no idea," Raphael laughs a little, easily recounting times he's found his brothers infuriating. Still, it only proves how deep their bond is, that for all that they drive each other up the wall, they'll still do whatever they can for each other.

He sets down his empty mug, sighing a little before he manages a faint smirk. "Yeah...guess you're right."

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I thought I already tagged this back, but apparently Pigeon Pete befuddled my brain.

Yeah Pigeon Pete does that

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