revivalproject | Archivist Catch-All

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Archivist Catch-All

WHO: Jon & YOU
WHERE: Coruscant - Various places
WHAT: Coruscant Event catch-all. Some open, some closed prompts. See what your little Eldritch avatar has been doing...
WHEN: Coruscant Event
WARNINGS: One of them includes Tony. Approach at own risk.

The Perfect Gift [ OPEN ]

Coruscant is- A lot. A lot of city, a lot of people a lot of- Everything. Even for Jon, who has been living in London for a good decade now. But even London seems unnaturally small compared to Coruscant. And yet living there has ensured that Jon isn't intimidated by crowds. In fact, he has come to find himself quite capable of adjusting himself to their situation and as he learns more about the planet and its inhabitants, Jon also learns more about how to navigate it and find that which he is looking for.

Which proves invaluable While out to acquire goods and supplies he deems useful for their inevitable return to Temba.

It's a long list Jon has for himself. A variety of clothes and footwear are on it, including some actual swimwear, equipment and supplies for his little chemistry lab, writing utensils, notepads, new variants of tea and other luxuries, a couple of handy little tools and - Gifts. And especially those gifts prove to be the difficult part. Since the person Jon is trying to find a gift for is none other than Tony. The man that tries to fix everything and constantly makes gifts for others himself. Finding a gift for such a man is harder than one might wish to think.

Apparently a selection of treats are about to become part of the assortment of gifts Jon has already picked up and he is currently studying the packaging of what may be actual chocolate. One can never go wrong with some sweets and a good wine. Jon smiles softly to himself and his attention drifts over to something that is either a futuristic bottle opener or a very peculiar toy, making him frown before reaching out to pick it up, vaguely addressing either the person next to him or no one in particular. "No idea what this is, but- I'm curious."

Being A Monster [ OPEN ]

Some may say it is ill-advised for Jon to be heading down into the lower levels of this multi-layered city. And yet here he is, his worn clothes and too large poncho making him easily melt into the crowd of beings who ignore his seeking stare. A stare that isn't seeking for difficulties with finding its target, but rather because every being down here proves to be a remarkably suited target for his needs.

He takes the easy route and turns into the next bar he passes. There are plenty of dreadful stories here for him to request, confine to memory and later record. Which will have to wait until they are back in Temba, since his tape recorder has not been brought along on this trip.

It's later that night - Or maybe early the next morning that the Archivist returns to the hotel they are all staying in. His steps swaying a little from the alcohol, but a contentment rarely seen by many on his expression. He even gives a cheerful wave to anyone else he encounters at this odd hour. "Someone is up early!"

Among Force Sensitives [ CLOSED to Obi-Wan ]

It's not without a healthy degree of trepidation that Jon walks up to the intimidating structure that he has been told to be the Jedi Temple. He is dressed in a set of new clothes, which he assumes to be local enough in style and clear of the wear and grime of the clothes he has been wearing down over the past months on Agra 10. Well fitting grey pants covering the better part of dark boots and a light, long-sleeved tunic paired with a very functional messenger bag is just one outfit the Archivist has come to pick up so far and he finds himself particularly happy to now own some footwear that isn't meant to be purely decorative while one spends the better part of the day behind a desk.

Though even his new attire doesn't fully keep Jon from pausing briefly in his steps to look up the massive building. Home and training ground of the Jedi. Jedi like Cal and Obi-Wan and Ezra. Beings sensitive to an energy field called The Force.

Beings that can sense something is not right with him.

Jon swallows once, hand tightening around the strap of his bag before he pushes forward, expression set into a stubborn set of determination. It will be fine. The Jedi Master has agreed to accompany him into the Temple, meaning Jon won't be heading in there by himself. It will be fine.

At the top of the stairs, he comes to another stop, finding himself looking up at massive columns of a height that raises questions for the Archivist. Questions he will be keeping to himself at least for the time being before taking his attention back down and looking around for the man he is supposed to meet up here at the very entrance of the Temple, muttering to himself. "...Christ. I hope he hasn't forgotten."

It's a date! [ CLOSED to Tony ]

New clothes that actually fit him and that Jon feels good in are but one of the things this planet has provided. Another thing is the chance to get his hair cut back to a more reasonable length, get the items required for a decent shave and of course have a proper bath. Small luxuries that add noticeably to Jon feeling human again. And to provide him with the confidence to ask Tony out for a proper date. How many chances like this will they get anyway?

The beings tending to their needs at their hotel have been quite helpful to him with setting everything up and recommending the right places not too far away. From a good, rather exclusive restaurant high up in a tall spire looming over Coruscant's upper level along with similar, yet distant skyscrapers and providing an excellent view to an artificially created and very unique park at the very base of said spire to the suggestion of a sensual and very private message provided by specially programmed droids up in their hotel's poshest suite offered by the beings in charge of the hotel tending to their guest's needs. Being that are remarkably eager to please this easy source of good credits. And after all these months on Agra 10, Jon has very little qualms about spending what the Agrii provide them with.

Having arrived a little early, Jon has already been seated at one of the rather few tables the restaurant actually possesses. All set apart and separated with strategically placed pots filled with colorful alien flora and a stunning view out of the large windows making up the entire outer walls of the place. A soft tune hangs in the air that Jon listens idly to while looking out of the window, over the city and every once in a while daring a glance down, feeling a bit thankful that Mike Crew hasn't instilled an even greater fear of heights into him. His hands are loosely clasped in front of him on the table, having very little to do at the moment.

When he hears a set of footsteps approaching, Jon turns his attention away from the window to greet who he assumes to be Tony with a gently, yet genuine smile.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Richie isn't sure what to make of this place but he at least isn't hard up for alcohol. Not that he's looking to get completely wasted, of course. No, he needs to keep some of his wits about him in case one of the weird aliens walking around decide to bite his face off or something. Who knows. But that doesn't mean he can't spend some of these weird credits getting relaxed and buying a bottle or two for his room. At least there he can black out safely, right? Sure.

Before he can get there, though, he sees a guy swaying around and calling out to him like they know each other. One look makes Richie take the leap into thinking this is one of his people instead of the local crowd. Still, they haven't met yet.

But he seems friendly enough.

Richie waves back, a wry smirk on his face. "Hey. Yeah, you too. Making sure all the bars around here aren't skimping on their pours? That's real hero work..."

The man Jon has blindly called out to is- Well. Not someone Jon has met. But even in his somewhat inebriated state and actually fed he can't help but notice that heavy knot of anxiety weighing down on this person. It has the Archivist pause and stare for a moment, but then he shakes himself out of it and makes his way over, not missing the presence of the bottles he carries.

"Few of the bars in this place close, you know? Ever." Jon informs the other. "Finding talkative company is-- It's easy!" And maybe he should be caring a little more about the ones he has asked to share their worst nightmares with him. But at the same time he just doesn't.

Oh, great. Another extrovert. Richie warms up pretty quickly with that comment and laughs a little. "Yeah, as long as you can understand what they're saying. Some people are just all..." He garbles out an imitation of Huttese which might accidentally be saying something about trees and pants. He clearly doesn't know.

"But I guess it's the thought that counts, right? Unless all that garble means like... 'Fuck your mom' or something. If Mom Jokes are even a thing on this planet. I would think they'd be universal, right? Hm. Might be worth researching..."

"I... I don't find understanding the difficult art, necessarily." Jon notes, making a point to appear thoughtful on the matter for half a moment. "It's notably harder to make sure you are being understood yourself. But I can assure you that, yes, Mom Jokes do, in fact, exist in this galaxy." Not that he will stop this man from doing any active research of his own.

He offers a not entirely sober hand out to the stranger. "I'm Jon. And I-" Jon pauses a moment to gesture briefly, yet not entirely without some dramatic around the hotel lobby. "I reside here. Temporarily."

Richie pumps a fist in the air, clearly pleased at the ubiquity of Mom Jokes. Maybe he could have a career off Earth. Wouldn't that be something?

He lowers his hand and takes Jon's pleasantly, shaking it firmly. "Richie Tozier. And, yeah. I am passing through, too. No offense, but you and I kinda stick out a little. I figured we were... you know. From the same place." He winked obviously, hoping to get his point across.

The Archivist frowns slightly, though he also gives a nod of affirmation to the given name. "So we are either talking about Earth now... Or Agra 10, I presume." He may be slightly drunk, but Jon has a hunch. "American?"

"Guilty. And yeah. Yeah, Agra would be my temporary crashpad. Although I really haven't been there long. Basically just arrived before we got yanked out to this place." He grins at Jon and makes a guess of his own.

"England for you?"

"London, indeed." Jon answers with a small nod, then he looks up somewhat thoughtfully. "That happened to me when I arrived, now that I think of it. Just arrived in that ruined city, got lost in a storm and suddenly: Different planet. Was kinda nice, though. Tony showed up around the time as well..." His words trail off at that reminder. That sure has been a terrible first meeting...

Richie nods even though 'Tony' means nothing to him. Could be a guy, could be a robot, could be Jon's imaginary pet dinosaur. He figures he'll get it from context clues soon enough.

"So I guess this 'Surprise! You're in a new place!' happens a lot, then? Or are we both the suckers who got unlucky?"

Jon shrugs, snickering slightly. "Happens to everyone that shows up in Temba that isn't an Agrii." He gestures with his hands for a moment, in his not entirely sober mind mimicking a set of four arms.

"Could be worse, though. They like us!"

Richie enjoys the hand gesture and grins in delight at the pretend arms. He's not seen the Agrii yet of course so he's not entirely sure what Jon's dance was all about, but it was pretty hilarious.

"They like us, huh? Little odd to show their love by kidnapping people. I mean, I didn't have anything going on so, whatever. But I bet some people here had a ham in the oven or something..."

Richie gets a lopsided grin returned at him and Jon's gesturing shifts into a shrug. "It's not uncommon where I'm from. Some monsters just kidnap you, others try to outright murder you. Personally? I prefer our alien hosts."

And that's not even a lie. Compared to most other beings that have kidnapped Jon, the Agrii have been the least life-threatening ones.

Monsters.

Richie instantly remembers Pennywise and everything it did to him. Yeah, he prefers the Agrii to that as well.

"You have monsters in your London?" He tries to sound only vaguely interested instead of hanging off his seat. "Any...I don't know... Weird stuff? Like. I don't know. Werewolves? Vampires?" He swallows. "Clowns?"

Myepp, monsters. Jon does perk up a little as he notices the man's anxieties

"Oh. Not only London. They can be everywhere." He informs Richie with a pleased little smile on his face. "No werewolves, however. And the vampires aren't anything like the romanticized versions we encounter in novels or movies. As for clowns..." Jon pauses there, looking drunkenly thoughtful. Then he pipes back up, tone almost cheerful. "I mean, realistically... Why wouldn't there be any? Nikola certainly used to be a clown before Orsinov remade her into an evil mannequin. And in a way she remained a clown. Clearly was disturbing enough to deal with."

Richie goes pale and quiet as Jon talks. The names mean nothing to him but the image they conjure up is enough to make him feel queasy. "Evil mannequin. That sounds like a party if I ever heard one." He laughs hollowly and scrubs a hand over his face, hating the entire idea.

"But. Okay. No...you know. Clowns that eat kids and hang out in sewers that you know about? Because yeah. That would be my clown history."

“I’m actually not familiar with any monster limiting itself to children alone.” Jon thinks aloud. “Then again, in order to leave a statement with the Institute, the victims need to survive their encounter.”

He shrugs.

“I can tell you about the clown doll that tears off people’s jaws if you like.”

"NO!"

Richie shudders all over at the very idea. "Why would you think anyone would want to hear about that? Fuck, man. A clown doll that tears off jaws? What does it even need those for? That's just fucking wasteful, firstly. Secondly, it is super fucked up..."

He shudders again.

"I really hope your universe isn't one we visit. Even if it's my own universe, hard pass if there are fucking dolls that want to collect pieces of my face..."

The outburst makes Jon jump a little himself, but his inebriated mind shakes the shock off astoundingly quickly and the slow nod he gives in response almost appears thoughtful.

"...right. The Stranger has been collection body parts the entire time. I wonder if the doll supplies pieces for the choir..." He interrupts his musings to abruptly turn his attention to Richie. "So you have clowns living in your sewers that eat children?" And while he isn't actually looking to compel Richie, there may be some compulsion in those words.

Richie has pretty much no defense up right now against a drunk British dude. At the words, his mouth just opens and starts spilling out words. Is he compelled? Hard to say with what a loudmouth he is just normally.

"Back where I grew up, in Derry, Maine. The fucker would come up every 27 years or whatever and start picking off kids in town like they were the M&Ms in his personal bowl of trail mix. He also had some sort of... I don't know. Weird affect on adults. They couldn't give two shits about all that weird crap. Not even about their own kids half the time unless they were torturing them. Dick got off on the fear."

"Huh." Comes the Archivist's response and he takes a half-stumbling step back to look Richie up and down curiously. "Maybe you and I- We might just be from the same Earth after all..."

Evil clown thriving on fear? Might as well be the Stranger at work.

"Don't say that, man. That dickhole killed two of my best friends and nearly got the rest of us when we tried to take it down. I don't want to imagine more."

The idea makes him shudder. He notices, inescapably, that Jon doesn't have the same reaction.

"So you...hunt these monsters or what? You don't seem bothered."

If Jon weren't drunk, he would have been more sympathetic. But he is drunk and therefore just shrugs before shaking his head.

"Hunt them? Oh no. I'm no hunter. Their stories, maybe... But I GET hunted quite regularly! Still managed to blow up the circus with the one that wanted to wear my skin. Hah!" Jon makes a small gesture of triumph then reaches over to make a valid attempt to pat Richie's shoulder. "Your clown would fit RIGHT into her lot!"

"I'm sure he'd be thrilled," Richie responds dryly. He's still a little caught up on 'wearing my skin', honestly but is too petrified to ask any more questions about it. The idea that Pennywise might not have been alone is more than enough to fuel his nightmares as it is.

"So you...uh. Just like hearing the stories? I guess that's not so weird. Podcasts might be safer for you though. Heard of 'My Favorite Murder'?"

"Tch. Podcasts mostly deal with fake ones. Myths and legends, long thoroughly researched and proven wrong." Jon waves a dismissive hand and shakes his head. "No. I record the real ones. Do research in the monsters that actually plan to destroy our Earth. And then we stop them!"

The originally dismissive gesture of Jon's hand changes into a much grander one as he finishes his little explanation.

Richie blinks. "Huh. Well, you win. Our clown just wanted to eat kids and murder us. Pretty specifically us, I think. Probably because we kicked his ass once. But yeah. He didn't seem interested in taking over the world."

Richie looks Jon over and tries to imagine him saving the world. It's a hard picture to paint but then again so is the one of him killing a guy with an axe, probably.

"Hope the whole place will be okay with you here. Would suck to get back and find like... I don't know. Nothing."

Archivist Catch-All

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