#full monster!Martin calls Jon ''Archivist'' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Users from the US are the majority of Tumblr visitors.

#full monster!Martin calls Jon ''Archivist''

almaprincess66 · 5 months

Text

Archivist!Sasha AU

Sasha James is a fully fledged Avatar of the Beholding, roaming the apocalips with her murdetous plus one Tim Stoker.

So that is the basic concept, right? Like end game couple TimSasha. But that is season 5 and we have to get there somehow, so here will I present my character ARCs

S1 Everything is relatively the same. The statement givers show up, Melanie is having a great time with Sasha, Martin start living in the archives and during the Prentiss attack Jon gets replaced by the Not!Them

S2 Things get sketchy. Like things are properly fucked up but it's sort of fine. They can feel that something is out of place but can't quite put their fingers on it. Not!Jon is messing with the statements and research materials given his libary background. Michael gives more help with figuring out stuff just because he actually likes Sasha. Helen gets abducted. Melanie questions on why did Jon got replaced by a whashed up white boy. Leitner gets murdered by Elias using some eye magic. Sasha is not on the run.

S3 Sasha is not wanted for murder so they have more time and more options. Sasha is not a paranoid mess so she and Tim put together what the heck is going on. They question Elias about Not!Jon and he confirms. After hearing this Martin basically skyrockets into the lonely. They start to prepare for the Unknowing and because Tim is there it's more smooth. Melanie somehow gets to the Institute. Basira leaves the police. Sasha realizes that the only way to get back at Elias and move him from his position is to do private investigations. Sahsa with Tim's and Melanie's help goes on the S3 interview of the monsters part. This get's her kidnapped by the Circus of The Other. Michael saves her and he does NOT turn into Helen or tries to kill Sasha. The America bit is the exact same. They find the bombs and make a similar try to stop the Unkowing as to the tape. They now have sectioned police help and a somewhat Lonely avatar on their side to take shit down. They succeed but Tim gets a heavy burning. Martin dies and Daisy gets into the coffin. Melanie calls the cops on Elias and gets him out of place.

S4 Sasha gets into the coma and turns into a full Avatar. Oliver Banks becomes the helping Avatar of the End. She goes back to work where everything is in chaos. Tim got marked by the Desolation during the Unknowing destruction. Sasha is a more accepting avatar and she gets experimenting real fast. She basically on week one helps Melanie to leave the institute for good. She gets Daisy out and puts her in the care of Basira. With Oliver's help them and Tim take out Peter Lucas. Anabelle shows up and offers a way to turn back Tim from his self destructive Desolation ways. The two of them together go to the place in Scotland where Gertrude set up the bounding ritual. There waits a statement for Sasha. The apocalyps start.

S5 TimSahsa go full kill bill on their way to get down Jonah Magnus. Like no mercy on anybody other than the kids from the Dark whom they adopt as an army against the other creatures that are also archivists.

This was a really long way of me putting down how emotional it would be if S5 JonMartin would stumble upon S5 TimSahsa and the two achivists would know but also wouldn't know each other because of the Not!Them.

#archivist sasha #tma #the magnus archives #the magnus archives pod #tma spoilers #sasha james #tim stoker #martin blackwood #martin k blackwood #jonathan sims #tma s5 #this was really fun #timsasha #jonmartin #like as a concept #i'm dying for this even trough it was like one whole scene I wrote this AU for #also Helen would not become Michael because irl Helen liked Jon but irl Helen would not like Sasha #and Micahel likes her already so there would be no reason or ability of Helen taking over Michael #that is a hill i will dy on

56 notes · View notes

a-mag-a-day · 1 year

Note

I've been thinking, since 197... why did Annabelle put on the whole dramatic evil villain show?

Why go full spider monster? Why threaten to toss Martin in the pit? Why tell Jon he's been manipulated since childhood? If the goal was to convince him to pass the Fears on to another dimension, that all seems very counterintuitive - all she managed to do was remind him how much he hates the Web, and convince him that he could not, under any circumstances, pass it on to someone else. Surely a friendly conversation would have served her better?

But I've realized.

"It’s fine, Martin, I’ll call off the servitors."

Jon sends the old Archivists away. He opens the way to the gas main. Without him, the others might not have made it through.

The Web wanted Jon to take over as the pupil, however briefly he held the title.

It knew he would open the path to his own destruction.

Yeah it seems like Jon briefly taking Jonah's place was a crucial part of the Web's plan which it intentionally omitted from its explanation

I'm assuming this is why it decided to spare Martin from the spider fate as well, otherwise the whole "we didn't realize how complicated their relationship is and how far Jon would be willing to go for Martin" wouldn't make sense. He is the only one who could kill Jon in this state and the only one Jon would be willing to give up his plans for on the slim chance he survives

#a mag a day #tma #the magnus archives #episode asks #mod ashes #mag 200 #cirrus-grey

74 notes · View notes

chrisis-averted · 5 months

Text

Reunions (part 1)

"When did this happen?"

Jon shuffled uncomfortably, avoiding Martin's gaze. "Ah—It started badly hurting shortly after you left. I tried to ignore it, I—I thought it would take d—days to finish changing, like—like—l—" his voice shook and he had to take a deep breath before continuing. "I started listening to the tapes Tim found. There was this one… labelled Alexandria… I don't know, something about it called to me. In it, a retired soldier talked about an underground ruin full of papyrus books and—and—" he swallowed and looked up with eyes glazed over with tears. "It was an Archive, Martin. Another Archive, with another Archivist."

Martin felt his blood freeze.

"And it wasn't human, it didn’t look human, and I thought if Elias hid those tapes then he knows what's in them, he knows I wouldn't stay human either. I tried to Know if there are other Archives, in the world, I tried to reach out, but—"

"The moment you did, this started to happen," Martin finished for him, fingers threading gently on his skin until they rested on the spot where his right shoulder split.

Jon nodded, wincing away from his touch. Martin knew the comparison wasn't flattering, but the action clearly reminded him of a wounded animal, and before he could stop himself, he was stroking his head, making soothing noises.

“I don’t want to be that—” Jon murmured, sobbing with his eyes closed shut. “I don’t want to be a monster, I don’t want to stop being me —”

#tma #the magnus archives #my fic #monster jon #rewind reset rewrite

4 notes · View notes

ashes-in-a-jar · 3 years

Text

The Purrfect Alternative

Premise: Why would there be a cat in the archives? An archive cat fixit.

2.7K words

Rated G

(Tw: A bit of violence but it's against Jurgen Leitner)

This is a fic dedicated to the @jonsimsandcats event! Hope you enjoy it :)

"Sorry, you haven't seen a cat, have you?"

Jon gaped at the larger man who suddenly barged into the office.

"I-I'm sorry, a what?"

"Uh, a cat, tabby I think." The man hurriedly explained.

"No. No I haven't. Is it.. Supposed to be here?" Jon knew book shops sometimes kept cats. Perhaps archives did as well. Maybe Gertrude had a soft spot in her after all.

"N-no actually. I, uh, I was feeding it on the way in but when I got up with my things, well, my hands were full you see, so when I managed to open the door it sort of slipped in with me? I'm so sorry, I have to find it before-"

"Okay okay calm down, stop." Jon held up his hand and let out a sigh. First day of the promotion and he's already stressed. But it's fine. He's fine. He can handle a cat. He's good with cats.

"Where do you work? Upstairs? Are you sure it came down here?"

"Yes, I saw it. And I just started working down here today? I'm Martin. Blackwood." He offered a hand. Jon automatically took it. Big and soft. He let go a bit too quickly and coughed.

"Work here? Are you certain?"

"Yes, I'm supposed to let Jonathan Sims know about becoming an archival assistant. He's the head archivist Elias told me to talk to."

"Well that's one thing to cross off your list." Jon smirked. "I'm Jonathan Sims. Jon, if you please. And Elias did not mention you. Tim and Sasha were supposed to be the only new recruits." Jon frowned to himself. He'll have to have a word with Elias about this. It's fine now that it happened but keeping Jon updated could really help in preventing these kinds of awkward introductions with people he's supposed to work closely with.

"O-oh! Well, here I am now too." Martin chuckled nervously, fidgeting with the hem of his jumper.

Jon hummed "So you are I suppose. Well, let's not waste time on trivial matters, there is a cat that needs to be found." Jon got up from his chair.

"O-oh god, you're right. I'm so sorry for this." The other man apologized, remembering why he was there in the first place. It was clear that he now realized that the fact that the person he's asking to help him clear up his mess is his new boss could be very problematic for him. Jon easily sympathized with that kind of familiar pressure.

"It's alright, let's just, get this sorted." Jon was not willing to admit that a part of him was also just looking forward to seeing the cat. It would help distract him from his own stress, as it were.

Ten minutes later the two of them sitting on the floor in the stacks with a chubby tabby cat sprawled on Jon's lap. Jon was petting it affectionately while amicably getting acquainted with his new assistant. The man turned out to be a library veteran with useful cataloging skills that could help with the mess that was left down here. Having calmed down considerably, Martin had stopped fidgeting and was cooing at the cat who was head butting his large palm. Their presence soothed Jon in a way that surprised him. In the tranquil, quiet atmosphere of the stacks, sounds of cat purrs and Martin's low murmurs, he felt almost optimistic that despite his lack of experience and the large task ahead of them, he would be alright.

-------

Paper meowed loudly behind him as Martin hurried down the tunnel with Jon and Tim at his tail. Martin glanced back as he reached an intersection and noticed they were too far behind, Jon limping on his injured foot. He hesitated, stopping and waiting for them to catch up. Paper came up and rubbed his leg before trotting down the tunnel on the right, tail held high and confident. Martin inhaled deeply to catch his breath, starting to walk again, this time more slowly. They managed to leave most of the fast worms behind and the ones down here were few and sparse enough to easily stomp down individually. Paper was making a game out of it. He kept leaping onto some that crawled ahead of them, squishing them loudly with his paw.

Jon and Tim caught up and the three followed Paper down the dark passage.

"Yeah, get the damn crawlers." Slurred Tim. The CO2 he inhaled was not helping his coherency.

"You know," gasped Jon, "I actually think they're larvae, given Jane's statement and-"

"Jon, I'm going to have to ask you to stop now." Martin said, as calmly as he could, his voice a tad too high and loud.

"... Sorry." Jon said sheepishly.

They followed Paper down the forking paths, hoping the cat knew where in the seven circles of hell they were.

Eventually they stopped seeing any worms as the path sloped up, ending in a sudden door. There was daylight filtering in from beneath it. Paper was eagerly pawing at it.

"Uh, I think we found a secret way out of the institute." Martin could hardly believe their luck.

"Excellent, now I can ditch work and no one will know I even left." Tim mumbled.

"Tim, if you wanted to succeed in that endeavor, you should have not said that next to your boss." Jon commented dryly.

The worm threat no longer being imminent, Martin allowed himself a nervous chuckle.

They pushed at the door and with a bit of group effort, eventually managed to pry it open into fresh air. They came out into a narrow alleyway which turned out to be not far from the institute. As they walked (limped) down the street to find access to a working phone they heard someone cry out.

"Jon? Tim? Martin!" They spotted Sasha hurrying towards them, carrying heavy bags of cat food.

"Sasha! You're okay!" Martin exclaimed. "We were worried you'd get back and be caught in it like Tim had."

"Where have you been?" Jon inquired, straining to stand upright on his own. Martin came closer, gently supporting him by the hip on the opposite side of Tim.

"We ran out of food for Paper, I figured I'd pop by the store for a moment to get some." Sasha said. "I came back when the building was being evacuated."

"Oh good, at least the alarm worked." Tim said tiredly.

"What in god's name happened to you three?" She inquired worriedly.

"Prentiss, we'll fill you in later. We need to make sure the ECDC is informed regarding the CO2 in the fire suppression system that needs to be activated."

"And get you to a hospital." Martin chastised, squeezing Jon's side.

"Yes yes." Jon waved dismissively but all the while leaning further into Martin's side. He really wasn't discreet, Martin thought smugly.

Sasha was about to say something else when a loud meow interrupted her. Paper was nosing into the bag, fully aware of its contents and who they were meant for.

Jon dislodged from Martin and Tim and hobbled towards the cat.

The cat turned and moved back into Jon's welcoming arms, as the archivist picked him up and stroked him fondly.

"We are lucky on all accounts that Paper is such a smart cat." He murmured into the soft fur, injury forgotten for the moment.

Tim chuckled, "cats always ruin evil people's plans, it's a well known fact. Anyway, Sasha, please call an ambulance for us?" He said, and promptly sat on the floor.

Martin sighed with relief. For now, they are all safe and together. And that's all that matters.

-------

It was all almost too much to take in. Luckily Paper was held tight in his arms as he listened to Jurgen Leitner ramble on about powers and fears and monsters and Jonah Magnus. He had been chased by a distorted form of his boss, who was apparently replaced by a monster Jon and the crew tried and failed to destroy, thus separating in the ensuing pursuit. In light of these events Jon now needed something soft to ground him in the face of so much new information.

The discovery of Elias' death was a shock, especially given the fact that apparently it happened when he was trapped in artifact storage during the Prentiss siege a half a year back.

He (that is, his doppelganger) told them back then that he was trying to reach the suppression system switch when he tripped down the stairs over one of Paper's many scattered toys, alerting Jane in the process and was driven back into the storage area. His account seemed to check out given he was rescued from there by the ECDC after Jane was dealt with. And given the few toys strewn about the stairs leading to artifact storage. Why Paper kept scattering his toys all over the building was beyond Jon but that wasn't the main issue at hand. After trapping the creature in the walls of the tunnels, Jurgen Leitner proceeded to reveal himself. Once Jon dragged him back to his office, and picked the protesting Paper up to calm himself down, he unveiled the truth of Elias', or Jonah's, whole operation.

Turns out Jonah Magnus decided life was too short to enjoy once and did exactly what eventually happened to him. Talk about karma. Leitner explained that Gertrude's plan was to stop Jonah from... Something he was planning. Perhaps a ritual to end the world in a way the others would fail to do. That bit of information was on a tape of Gertrude which Leitner played for Jon. By the time they reached the part where Leitner said, “they needed to kill Jonah's main body then burn down the archives.” Martin, Tim and Sasha had arrived back at the office as well.

"Jon? Jon! Are you okay?" Martin rushed forward, hugging Jon tightly, ignoring Paper's loud yowling at being squished in between them. Jon sighed, "Martin, thank god. I-I'm fine." He hugged him back, relieved his boyfriend was safe, as well as his other assistants of course. "It chased after me but he stopped it."

Tim raised his axe, "Jon are you sure he's not... Another one?"

"Yes I'm sure. That" Jon took a deep breath, "is Jurgen Leitner."

After the team's loud exclamations of disbelief he and Leitner updated them on everything they had discussed. As he was being hugged by Martin and holding the fluffy cat he slowly began calming down.

After Leitner was done a long moment of silence ensued.

"So," Sasha said slowly, "Gertrude's dead?"

"Yes, she was shot and then hidden by Jonah in the tunnels. Unfortunately I couldn't get out to allow for a proper burial, so I had to leave her there." He seemed sad admitting it. Jon did not feel sympathy for him. This man deserved none for his past and cowardice.

"And now, we need to, what, somehow find the center of the maze of tunnels to kill Jonah completely and burn the archives?" Sasha asked skeptically.

"Yes, the whole institute in fact. I have a gas main in the tunnels ready to be ignited once we find the center." Leitner said.

"How do we do that?" Martin frowned.

"Maybe Michael knows?" Tim quipped. "He just helped us out of that situation with his own… corridor labyrinth. Maybe he'll be able to help."

"Okay, okay let's first take a breather and calm down. We'll figure out how to solve this." Jon said, raising his hand to slow them down.

"Yeah, I'll make us some tea." Martin added, "At least now that... Thing won't bother us for a long while."

"Let it burn along with this hell of an institute." Tim said harshly. Knowing how his brother was killed almost the same way, Jon felt strong sympathy for Tim rush over him.

Which was replaced with a different emotion the moment he turned to the man who saved him.

"Thank you for your help, now Martin, I need you to hold Paper for a moment."

Martin, looking baffled, took Paper out of Jon's arms. "Jon wh-"

Jon swiftly approached the older man and proceeded to sock him in the nose with the full force of his fist. The crew gasped in unison.

"That's for everyone you hurt with your idiocy, you stupid old coward." Jon seethed and punched him again. He heard Martin chuckle and Tim whoop as the man whimpered and attempted to protect his face.

Jon was glad they were spared the horrible plans of a 200 year old evil man and that they had some semblance of a strategy moving forward. He was, however, equally elated for this opportunity to do what he fantasized about since learning of Leitner's existence.

And, he supposes, all of this can be indirectly attributed to Paper, the archive cat.

-------

Jon woke up to the warm snuggle of his lovely fiance and a mouthful of cat fur.

"Pffff, Paper geerroff," he mumbled, uselessly trying to push the stubborn cat away. The chirping of birds mingled with the sound of highland cows grazing in the field near their cabin.

After the success of their plan to end Jonah, after the fire had already burned down the horrors of that evil place, it took a while longer for their troubles to be resolved. They had to endure endless questioning and investigations of the police. Jon, who was weakened by the ordeal to the point of needing hospitalization, took a long time to recover and regain his strength. Leitner claimed it was lucky he was cut off from the Eye this early, or the consequences would have been much more serious. The others seemed to have been less affected, but once the archives were completely reduced to ashes they recovered, their jobs burned down along with everything else.

Sasha found a new job as a researcher in a prestigious institute, nothing supernatural involved. Tim moved on to journalism, utilizing his curiosity and charm to their full potential. Jon and Martin opened a tea & book shop, if only to make Paper a real bookshop cat. They have been slowly setting it up and settling down until... Well, Jon proposed and they took a break. Traveled to Scotland with Paper on an early honeymoon to see the cows and enjoy the quiet.

And quiet it was. Until Paper shamelessly began purring as loud as a train right in Jon's ear. Jon huffed in fond annoyance and got up, leaning down to give Martin a kiss on the head and then shooing the crime of a cat off to the kitchen.

"You can't give me a moment of reprieve, can you?" He stretched and followed the cat out the bedroom.

He filled Paper's bowl and sat on the floor leaning his back on the cabinet, closing his eyes as Paper chewed his food noisily.

He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, he was awakened by a soft tap on his head. He looked up blearily and smiled. The cat had long since finished eating and found a home in Jon's lap.

"Morning love." Martin murmured softly, matching his tone to the serene atmosphere. After hesitating a moment, he bent down and sat next to Jon. Jon looked at him adoringly as he absent-mindedly stroked Paper, humming along to his purrs. Martin joined him, petting Paper, their hands occasionally (and very purposefully) brushing against each other.

After a few minutes of calm silence, Martin spoke up.

"You know, this reminds me of that first day we met. In the stacks."

Jon smiled at the memory. "Ahh yes, all three of us had a very fateful meeting there, didn't we? God, I was so stressed back then."

"You handled it pretty well I have to say. Handled my nervousness pretty well too." Martin chuckled.

"I was lucky you were there. You really helped me calm down." Jon admitted. "Well, you and Paper." Jon added fondly.

"Paper was a really good archive cat wasn't he?" Martin said, leaning into Jon, pressing a warm, still sleepy kiss on his cheek. Jon closed his eyes, grateful for the events that led up to this moment of pure happiness, with his fiance and his cat.

"Yes, the best cat in the world."

#Had fun speculating with this one #Hope you enjoy!#tma #the magnus archives #Tma fic #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #s1 archives crew #Jonah magnus #elias bouchard #jurgen leitner #Jonmartin #Fabric Rustles #My tma fic #jonsimsandcats2021 #Jon&cats

229 notes · View notes

see-arcane · 3 years

Note

Your posts about the Eye/ Web convo and then the latest one about how the Fears want to pry Martin away from Jon just makes me think of a Disney teen show. Featuring: the Eye as the Awkward MC Girl! The Web as the Sassy Best Friend, Jon as the Hot Guy Crush and Martin as the Jealous Girlfriend.

I see your Terrible Live Action Disney Show and raise you to Trashy Daytime Reality Talk Show, i.e. the real reason Helen had to die before they reached the Panopticon.

Helen, full Jerry Springer mode: On today’s episode we take a look at a problem that faces so many modern couples, the dangers of work taking more and more of you away from the ones you love. But, in a shocking twist, the job doesn’t just want to take up our guest’s time--it wants to take his man!

[Sounds of audience whoops go here and/or the Eye monsters’ giddy whirring]

Helen: So, Martin, tell us. How does it feel knowing that the Eye has been giving you all these job offers as a way to snap up your beau while you’re gone?

Martin, subtitles reading THE ANTICHRIST’S PLUS ONE, OFFERED MULTIPLE PROMOTIONS TO GET HIM AWAY FROM HIS BOYFRIEND/ANCHOR, PETULANT POET, TEA CONNOISSEUR: Jon, I’ve changed my mind, you can smite her.

Helen: Oof, not too happy it seems. And you, Jon? How are you feeling? Shocked? Surprised? ...Tempted? ;)))

[Audience ooh-ing, whirring]

Jon, subtitles reading THE ARCHIVIST, HAS BEEN RECEIVING PRIVATE PSYCHIC DMS AND FREE GIFTS FROM THE EYE, WAS RECENTLY PROPOSED TO BY THE EYE FOR AN ETERNITY OF AGONIZED BLISS, IN FRONT OF HIS BOYFRIEND (!): We’ve got to ride out the statement, Martin.

Martin: How and why is this part of the Eye’s domain?

Jon: Reality shows like these are always blends of Eye and Spiral. Warping the truth into the most gaudy and painful display possible ‘for your viewing pleasure.’

Helen: An insightful topic I’m sure you and your not-so-secret admirer would love to discuss in private. Isn’t that right, Ceaseless Watcher?

[Loudest whoops and cheers from the audience, CCTV monsters going nuts]

The Eye, somehow levitating onstage, subtitles reading THE EYE, BIGGEST BADDEST HORROR GOD ON THE BLOCK, HOPES MARTIN DOESN’T TAKE IT WANTING TO GRAFT JON INTO ITSELF FOR ALL ELDRITCH TIME PERSONALLY BUT REALLY DOESN’T CARE, BIG THEATRE FAN: 👁️

Helen: Welcome to the show, your ocular highness. So, this is a rather unexpected turn for our heroes, and a rather saucy one as well. It’s admirable of you to at least offer some job perks for the trouble, but let’s face it--you’re looking to snap up a taken man! What do you have to say for yourself?

The Eye: 👁️

[Audience oooohs, gasps, claps, laughs. CCTV monsters whirr agreeably]

Helen: Goodness!

Martin: It didn’t say anything.

Jon: Yes, it did.

Martin: ...What did it--?

Jon: I’m not repeating it out loud.

Helen: And now, for the unsung corner of this romantic rectangle--

Martin: It’s not a romantic anything--

Helen: --and the Eye’s current Pupil, Jonah Magnus! Jonah, thanks so much for coming on. I’m sure this can hardly be an easy revelation, discovering you’re nothing more than a semi-brainless placeholder prop for the Eye’s actual crush. What are your feelings in all this?

Jonah, subtitles read PUPIL, TOOL, TERRIBLE BOSS, REALLY SHOULD’VE KNOWN BETTER: agrgkahwegjrjggakjrggjirbs

Helen: Mm, quite understandable. Oh, and it seems we have a call! Caller, you’re on the air.

Annabelle, on speaker: Hello again, Martin. Feeling more openminded yet?

[More audience whoops and whirrs.]

Martin, pouring petrol on the stage: Nope, we’re done here.

Helen, as the stage catches fire behind her: We’ll be right back. :)

#she'd have made a great talk show host really #bet she had a niche all picked out in the Eye domain #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #the eye #the web #jonah magnus #helen distortion #annabelle cane #the magnus archives

289 notes · View notes

venfx · 3 years

Text

magnus fic roundup

as tma comes to a close, i thought i'd post some of my favorite fics to come out of this fandom. most of these are classics, listed in no particular order.

A Weather In The Flesh by @cuttoothed | 3K | S1-S4 | Jon/Martin | Complete

"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."

Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.

↳ this is such a well-done exploration of jon’s character and his relationship with touch, and i’ve re-read it at least five times. sweet and sad and phenomenally well-written.

in the chillest land and on the strangest sea by imperfectcircle, singlecrow | 20K | Safehouse, S1-S4 | Jon & Daisy, Jon/Martin | Complete

Jon remembers a statement he read years ago given by a Jesuit priest, who said that the shortest prayer he knew was, just, fuck it, as in fuck it; it's in God's hands. He takes Daisy's hand and trails on after her.

or; hope is a thing with feathers.

↳ hey, you wanna fuckin..... feel things? read this.

The Magnus Institute hires a Data Protection Officer. He sets about diligently booking in meetings, writing policy documents, and training all the staff in the importance of confidentiality. Now if only he could get hold of the Head Archivist, who seems to have vanished again...

(Jon is only trying to save the world, but apparently some people think he should still be doing his day job.)

↳ i’d be surprised to find people who haven’t read this series, but it’s the definition of “the magnus archives is a workplace comedy”. also, alasdair stuart has actually read some clips of this on Twitch, so that’s a fun bonus.

In accordance with the Ride or Die Pact of 2009, Jonathan Sims can call upon Georgie Barker at any time for aid with no strings attached. Despite their rocky history, their childhood friendship, and Jon’s barely recovered alcoholism, this pact is sacred and must be upheld.

Georgie Barker may regret this. She may regret it when she discovers that the world is full of monsters and eldritch gods and dickhead managers. She may regret it when a punk rocker who should be dead collapses on their doorstep, a teenager again who needs their help. She may regret it when her stupid ex-boyfriend starts selling his soul for knowledge and the ability to keep his new family safe.

But she probably won’t. Georgie isn’t scared of anything - not a Clown’s apocalypse, not the apocalypse that Jon is destined to begin, and not Jon’s own loss of humanity.

Maybe she should be.

↳ if you’re looking for an everyone-lives-no-one-dies-happy-ending fic that also happens to be massively chaotic, look no further.

The Reverb in These Holy Halls by @wolftraps | 98K | AU, S1-S4 | Jon/Martin | Complete

Undoing the apocalypse would have been enough for Jon, if all his people survived. Without them, Jon's only recourse is making it so it never happened in the first place. He's going to do better this time.

↳ quintessential time travel AUs. plot-wise, i feel like these can be difficult to write, but op does a fantastic job of tying things together in a way that makes sense. plus, it’s just fun to read.

jon sims v the nhs by @thoughtsbubble | 12K | Series | S3 | Complete

Joan Bright has a new patient. He's carrying an old tape recorder and is covered head to toe in scars. Jonathan Sims looks dangerous, but Dr Bright has dealt with all sorts of atypical individuals. She has no reason to be nervous.

Right?

↳ if you’ve ever thought “hey, jon should probably go to therapy”, then 1) you’re absolutely right and 2) this is... probably what would’ve happened. prior knowledge of The Bright Sessions is not required. also, apparently, this fic is written by the showrunner of The Underwood Collection? wild.

Family, Found by Dribbledscribbles | 9K | S4 | Complete

It’s Basira who catches onto it.

The collective shift that seems to come over them when heading in or out of the Institute. Not just the oppressive sensation of being observed, their every move catalogued for the voyeuristic cravings of some unseen Eye(s). That feeling remained with them even when they left the Institute these days, but it was always stronger inside its walls. That wasn’t the change. Nor was it the point.

The point was: making life worse for Jonathan Sims.

↳ i think being part of the avengers fandom circa 2012 has given me permanent found-family-trope brainrot, but you know what. jonathan sims can have a little happiness, as a treat.

n. an important moment of insight, typically one that leads to a dramatic transformation of attitude or belief

Or, in which Tim becomes an avatar for the end of all things.

↳ tim dies and then he doesn’t. there is catharsis and world building. just....read it.

Come, Change Your Ring With Me by @backofthebookshelf | 29K | S3 | Peter/Jon, Jon/Martin, Peter/Elias | Complete

The Lukases demand the Archivist marry into the family, and the Institute relies on them too much to say no. Peter is smug. Elias is fuming. Martin is suffering. Jon thinks this might be tolerable if only Peter would hurry up and leave him alone already.

OR, the soap opera we call an Archives revolves around Peter Lukas this time.

↳ superb evil-bastards-in-love content, feat. martin pining, tim being obnoxious, and jon being... well, tired, mostly. i will literally never get tired of how op writes peter.

creatures that i briefly move along by @dotsayers | 16K | Series | AU, Post-S4 | background Jon/Martin

Mr Sims was so weird, was the thing. Miss Grant always said calling people weird was rude, and Anna sort of agreed, but she didn’t know what other word to use to describe Mr Sims.

He’d only been in with the class for a few days, really, and half of that he just sat at the back listening, but that didn’t stop her from making a swift judgement. 5BG had had student teachers before, back when they were 3ST, and they’d been uniformly normal.

Mr Sims was… actually, Anna had a better adjective. He was interesting.

↳ i just.... love teacher!jon fics. this series delivers.

Once Bitten by @apatheticbutterflies | 1K | S4 | Jon & Daisy | Complete

Jon Sims has always been a jumpy kind of guy. Nervous. Twitchy. Daisy used to think it meant he was guilty. Turns out he was. Just not of what she’d thought.

Daisy learns how to peel an orange.

↳ daisy and jon’s relationship is an example of an instance where i’m happy to say “fuck what you wrote mr. jonny ‘chocolate torte of tragedy’ sims, i want them to be friends”.

pins and needles by mutterandmumble | 13K | S1-S4 | Complete

He’s got a reputation to uphold anyways; an uptight, rigid reputation that dictates the way that he interacts and functions and is such an integral part of him that he can’t let go of it anytime soon. He likes his safety nets. He likes his contingencies. He likes his privacy, and everything around this place right down to the walls seems to have ears, so he’ll stay tight-lipped up to and beyond the threat of death.

He’s good at that.

In which Jon takes up embroidery and bumbles through life the best that he can.

↳ out of all the introspective jon pieces i’ve read (and there are many), this one stands out. maybe it’s the symbolism or the characterisation, or maybe it’s the fact that i have an embroidery kit lurking in the back of my closet along with a hundred other half-pursued hyperfixations. whatever. this is excellent.

sleeping in by @ivelostmyspectacles | 5K | S2 | Jon/Tim | Complete

“Who are you trying to convince?”

Jon gives up, letting his head sag against Tim’s shoulder. “I don’t know.”

aka Elias gets tired of Jon and Tim's bickering, sends them away for a "team-building" weekend trip, and is sure to book them a room with only one bed

↳ this has everything you’d need from a “oh no there’s only one bed” fic. someone please get these men therapy.

if you try, sometimes (you get what you knead) by @ajcrawly | 3.5K | S1-S4 | Jon/Martin, Tim/Sasha | Complete

It starts with an abundance of boeuf bourguignon and ends up as a team tradition.

Food and love in uncertain times.

↳ more found family fic, this time with a diverse og!archival staff and food as a metaphor for love. hurt in all the right ways. made me hungry in the process.

#tried to keep this shortish but i might just make a part 2 #people in this fandom are crazy talented #tma #the magnus archives #tma fic recs #fic recs #long post #txt #mine

223 notes · View notes

shelobussy · 3 years

Text

ASH’S TOP 10 TMA FIC RECS

For @damcrows who is Suffering. (I’ll make a second rec list with only fluff fics I promise <3)

immortal with a kiss by yellow_ caballero

But she probably won’t. Georgie isn’t scared of anything - not a Clown’s apocalypse, not the apocalypse that Jon is destined to begin, and not Jon’s own loss of humanity.

Maybe she should be.

1000/10 the best fanfic in this fandom. It’s got everything: QP Jon/Georgie, Teen!Gerald, Beholding lore, and everyone bullies Jon. (Head trigger warnings)

daisy time travels and jon suffers au by paper_dream

In which Daisy time travels back from the apocalypse, saves Jon from herself, and just kinda forgets he has no idea what's going on.

Daisy timetravels to pre-Buried. Jon suffers.

The Magnus Institute vs the 21st Century: a series of emails and IMs by shinyopals

I'm sure given your position you already know about the advent of the General Data Protection Regulation next year, wrote Peter Lukas, to Elias Bouchard. However, the Lukas family wishes to be crystal clear that our continued investment is contingent upon the Institute taking its responsibilities with regards to privacy and confidentiality seriously.

(Jon is only trying to save the world, but apparently some people think he should still be doing his day job.)

10/10. Fun take on the texting/email trope. Jon pines and destroys laptops. IT suffers.

ceylon, assam, and darjeeling by sciosa

People do not bring Jonathon Sims tea. Martin Blackwood, newly-minted archival assistant, has apparently not received this memo.

It’s about the pining.

ways to save the world by Wildehack

“I left you,” Martin says softly.

Really REALLY good pining, Jon in the Lonely and brief amnesia.

from the highways to the hills, our love has never had a leg to stand on by blackwood (transjon)

She always forgets how observant he is because digging anything meaningful out of him can be a chore. He looks at things. He observes. He catalogues. Georgie is like a library patron trying to check out a book labeled REFERENCE ONLY with a bright red piece of tape wrapped around the spine.

Pre-canon canon compliant character study of Jon/Georgie.

same as it ever was by ajkal2

It’s a nice dress. Classy, if also a little risqué. Set off against dark skin, it looks very good. It would probably work on Jon, actually. He wonders where she got it. Then he remembers he’s at work, and abruptly derails that train of thought.

The women of the Magnus Institute are holding a protest against the sexist dress code of their place of work. Jon is conflicted, and also has a gender for some reason. What's up with that?

THEE they/them fic. Nonbinary Jon? Check. Trans Martin? Check. The Anti-Elias Agenda? Check. Tim in a cocktail dress? Check check check. This fic has everything.

remind me how to smile bytamerofdarkstars

Jon is probably fine, just hiding out somewhere while the whole murder thing blows over and that's... fine. Martin is fine with that explanation. Really. He's got plenty to distract himself - like listening through the entire What the Ghost episode library, for example. Or watching Georgie Barker's Instagram livestreams.

A oneshot during Jon’s stay with Georgie. Tons of fluff.

Milk After Spiders by chewsdaychillin

Warm milk is all he gets.

After that door closes and the world is eerily slammed back to normal, Jon’s legs unfreeze and he stumbles back off the step. Makes the journey home alone and wobbly, no desire left for exploring (it won’t return for a long time).

basically sad jon childhood and adulthood hurt/comfort but the comfort is mad delayed :/

Jon suffers. That’s the fic.

Family, Found by Dribbledscribbles

It’s Basira who catches onto it.

The point was: making life worse for Jonathan Sims.

JON SUFFERS. THAT’S THE FIC.

#tma #tma fic recs #tma rec list #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #jon sims #martin blackwood #jmart #jmartin #fanfic #ash recs

76 notes · View notes

bubonickitten · 3 years

Text

Fic summary: Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.

Previous chapter: AO3 // tumblr

Full chapter text & content warnings below the cut.

Content warnings for Chapter 29: discussion of Jon’s & Daisy’s restrictive diets & associated physical/mental deterioration (and potential parallels with disordered eating etc.); arguing & relationship disputes (that are not immediately resolved in-chapter); self-harm (burning oneself with a lit cigarette); cigarette smoking; discussion of suicidal ideation; panic & anxiety symptoms; discussions of grief & loss; cyclical mental health issues (post-traumatic anniversary reactions; related self-loathing, internalized victim blaming, & survivor’s guilt; generally speaking, Jon’s relapsing into self-isolating, worse-than-usual headspace, esp towards the end of the chapter); depiction of parental neglect/rejection (Martin's mother). SPOILERS through S5.

There’s also a Hunt-themed statement that contains descriptions of indiscriminate violence & unprovoked warfare against a civilian population. Oh, and a cliffhanger.

Let me know if I missed anything!

_________________

“Statements ends,” Jon says, somewhat breathless as he fumbles to stop the recording.

“You alright?” Daisy asks.

“Fine.” The word is punctuated by a click and a whirr as the recorder resumes spooling.

“Are you, though?”

“Yes.” Scowling, Jon jabs his finger at the stop button – only for it to keep recording.

“It’s the Hunt, isn’t it.” Daisy sighs, rubbing the back of her neck. “Sorry it’s been so prominent for the last few. I’m… not quite scraping the bottom of the barrel yet, but–”

“It’s fine, Daisy.”

“Still, I–”

“I said it’s fine–!” Jon winces at his sharp tone. “I’m sorry, that was… I’m just – on edge, I suppose.”

Which is an understatement, really.

Because it’s September. It’s September, and after September is October, and October is–

Well. These days, he can’t even look at a calendar – can’t even look at the time and date on his phone – without icy dread coursing through his veins.

Sporadic flashbacks have become an everyday occurrence, set off by the smallest of stimuli: a dropped glass shattering on the breakroom floor becomes a window bursting inward into shards; a thunderstorm heralds a fissuring sky, marred by hundreds upon thousands of greedy, unblinking voyeurs; his own voice is a doomsday harbinger, a key crammed into a lock he can’t keep from unbolting. The memories are too immediate, too vivid to feel past-tense.

It’s to be expected. Studies, common knowledge, and anecdotal evidence all point to the impact of anniversaries on mental health. He knows what a textbook post-traumatic stress response looks like. Monster or not, in this particular sense he remains overwhelmingly human. No matter how much he rationalizes it, though, intellectually understanding a psychological phenomenon does little to soften the lived experience of it.

And it does nothing to temper the chilling knowledge – bordering on conviction – that it may happen again.

“Would be worrisome if you weren’t stressed out, considering… you know. Everything.” Daisy leans back in her chair, stretches her legs out in front of her, and rolls her shoulders. “Speaking of the Hunt. Any new developments?”

“I mean… nothing since yesterday? Everything I know, Basira knows.”

“Basira… isn’t keeping me updated,” Daisy says, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

“Ah,” Jon says, with tact to spare. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“It’s fine.”

“Is it?”

Daisy sighs. “She thinks that I think she’s wasting her time.”

“And do you?”

Daisy gives a jerky shrug. “Don’t you?”

“Not… necessarily,” Jon hedges. Truthfully, his answer to that question is as mercurial as his moods these days, shifting from hour to hour, sometimes minute to minute. Daisy gives him an unimpressed look. “I won’t lie and say I’m optimistic, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth trying.”

“You sound like Martin.”

“Well, he spent ample time drilling it into me,” Jon says with a wry smile. “I don’t have the same capacity for hope as he does, but improbable doesn’t mean impossible. If I’d had it my way, I’d have lain down and died ages ago. I’m only here now because of him.”

“Mental health check,” Daisy says automatically.

“Not thinking of hurting myself,” Jon replies, just as rote. “You don’t have to do that, you know. I’ve told you, I’m physically incapable of killing myself even if I wanted to.”

“That doesn’t stop you brooding.”

“Anyway, I wasn’t referring to anything recent.”

“Weren’t you, though?” At his blank look, Daisy gives an impatient sigh. “It hasn’t even been a year since you woke up, Sims. Up until six months ago, you were wandering an apocalyptic wasteland–”

“…I found myself utterly alone. Facing down a room full of nothing eyes, willing myself to take action. I never did, though–”

“–I wanted to act, to help, to do something, but – my mind had all but seized up, and I felt helpless to do anything but watch as events progressed–”

“–there was nothing I could do to save him – he died – so did any hope I had of – doing good in the world–”

“–there’s a sort of numbness that you adopt after months or years of bombing–”

“–I did spend a lot of time just… slumped in despair – had no reason to think it would help, but I could see no choice but waiting for death–”

“–hoping against hope that – it wouldn’t be forever–”

“Hey!” Daisy’s voice finally breaks through the rush of static. Or perhaps it was the pressure: Jon looks down to see her bony fingers caging his own in a bruising grip.

“Sorry,” he says, catching himself as he starts to list woozily.

“Not to say ‘I told you so,’ but…” Daisy gives his hands another light squeeze. “You sort of just proved my point there.”

“I’m well aware that I’m – traumatized, or whatever–”

“Not ‘or whatever’–”

“–but I’m not a danger to myself, so could we please just move on?” Jon mumbles, averting his eyes. “You wanted a Hunt update.”

Daisy scrutinizes him for a long moment before she allows the conversational pivot to stand.

“Basira said you’ve heard back from that Head Librarian,” she says, “but she blew me off when I started prying.”

“Zhang Xiaoling,” Jon says, his shoulders relaxing. “She was able to confirm some of Jonah’s intel. They do have a statement about a book matching that description in their records, and she agreed to forward a copy once it’s been digitized. They’re further along in their digitization process than we are–”

Daisy snorts. “Probably because they’re actually working on it.”

“That, and they have the benefit of a Head Librarian who actually has a background in archival studies,” Jon says drily. “In any case, they have a large archive, so it’s a work in progress. She’s processed our inquiry, though, and she says she has someone on it. We should hear back by tomorrow at the latest.”

“Huh,” Daisy says. “Sounds…”

“Like a functioning archive?”

“I was going to say ‘streamlined,’ but sure.”

“The wonders of a hiring process that prioritizes job qualifications as opposed to a candidate’s apocalyptic potential.”

“What are the chances their institution is also led by a centuries-old corpse with a god complex?”

“Non-zero, I imagine.”

Daisy wrinkles her nose. “Ugh, don’t say that.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t have evidence one way or the other.”

“It doesn’t. Does she know about…” Daisy waves her hand vaguely. “All of this? The Fears, Rituals… Jonah?”

The question gives Jon pause. He thinks back to his meeting with Xiaoling all those years ago – well, last June, from her perspective.

“Some of it, I think,” he says slowly. “She seemed familiar with some of the Archivist’s abilities. There were parts of my visit that struck me as odd at the time. I didn’t realize until later that she had been speaking both Chinese and English at different points in our conversation.”

Daisy frowns. “She didn’t clue you in?”

“She didn’t, no. But…”

Elias made a good choice, the Librarian’s voice echoes in Jon’s mind. I did offer him someone, but he thought the language might be too much for him.

It does tickle me, Jonah’s voice chimes in, that in this world of would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose.

“I don’t know if she’s aware of Elias’ true identity.” Jon swallows with some difficulty, his mouth suddenly dry. “Or his intentions.”

“So is it really smart to trust her?”

“If she’s in communication with him, there’s nothing she can tell him that he doesn’t already know. We’re just following up on information he gave us. And he’s likely spying on our correspondence whether she’s in contact with him or not. Not much we can do about that.”

“She could have her own ulterior motives,” Daisy says.

“True enough, but… I got the sense that her primary interest is curation. Studying phenomena, building a knowledge base–”

“In service to cosmic evil,” Daisy says pointedly.

“W-well, yes, but – I don’t think she has delusions of godhood herself, and I don’t think Jonah has tempted her with the idea.” Jon huffs to himself. “He wouldn’t want to share his throne.”

“Hm.”

“I’m not saying we trust her or the Research Centre as a whole. I had reservations about their motives then and I still do. It’s not unthinkable that they’re a front for something more sinister in the same way that the Institute is. But… I don’t think there’s any especial danger in utilizing their library.”

“Sims,” Daisy sighs, “your danger meter is broken beyond repair.”

“In my defense,” Jon says, bracing one arm on the desk to leverage himself to his feet, “at this point, everything is just differing degrees of dangerous.”

As the two of them leave the tunnels, Jon’s phone buzzes in his pocket. When he glances at the screen, he sees a text notification from Naomi – in addition to two missed calls. He frowns to himself. The two of them text regularly, but she rarely calls.

“What’s up?” Daisy asks, her brow furrowing in concern.

“Naomi,” Jon says distractedly, already returning the call. Naomi picks up on the first ring.

“Jon?” Naomi’s voice sounds thick and tear-clogged.

A cold weight settles in Jon’s stomach. “What’s wrong?”

“I j-just” – Naomi pauses to clear her throat – “just needed to hear a familiar voice.”

“What happened?” Jon asks – and realizes too late that in his urgency to discover the source of her distress, he’s poured too much of himself into the question.

“Nothing.” What starts out as a self-deprecating little laugh quickly deteriorates into a half-sob. “Nothing new, anyway. It’s always like this, this time of year. Evan and I didn’t have an exact date planned, but we’d talked about an autumn wedding. Thought it would be fitting, since we met in September, you know? Tomorrow is our anniversary, actually. Or – or it would’ve been. A-and then by the time I’ve picked myself back up, the holidays will have crept up on me, and that’s always hard, and – and then before I know it, it’s March, a-and that’s its own kind of anniversary, and it’s just… it’s a lot.”

“Oh, I – Naomi, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s fine,” she says with a sniff. “Don’t think I would’ve been able to get it all out, otherwise.”

“S-still, I–”

“It’ll be three years this March. And it still feels like it was yesterday. I spend six months out of the year feeling like I’m still stumbling through that cemetery, and I just…”

This time last year, Jon thinks with a lurch, I was still the monster in her nightmares.

And even now, he still pulls her there whenever they’re both asleep.

“When does that stop?” Naomi laughs again, a desperate, pleading thing. “When does the healing come in?”

“I… I don’t know,” Jon says truthfully. “Anniversaries are… they’re hard enough on their own. It doesn’t help that… well, it’s difficult to heal from something when you’re still living it.”

“What do you mean? Evan’s dead,” Naomi says, her voice breaking on the word. “He’s not coming back. It’s… it’s over.”

“There are still the dreams. The narrative might have changed, but the stage dressing is still the same.” Jon draws his shoulders in, one arm pressed tight to his stomach. “Keeping the memory fresh.”

“It’s not so bad.” Naomi sniffles again. “Better than being alone.”

“‘Alone’ or ‘nightmares’ shouldn’t be your only options.”

“I have my own nightmares, you know,” Naomi counters, sounding slightly annoyed. “When I’m asleep and you’re not. And they’re worse, because in them, I actually am alone. Nothing supernatural about it. It’s just… me.” She sighs. “This time last year – and the year before – I didn’t have anyone. And I just… I didn’t – I don’t want to be alone.”

“You’re not,” Jon says. “Not anymore.”

“I – I know, but I…” Naomi takes a breath. “I was… I was thinking – maybe tomorrow I could come by.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon says gently, “truly I am – but it’s not safe. Especially for you, especially right now. Not with Peter here.”

Naomi is already the equivalent of an unfinished meal to the Lonely. That, together with her association with Jon, is more than enough to mark her as a potential target should Peter take notice of her.

“Feels safer than being alone,” Naomi says. “The Duchess helps – a lot – but I…” She lets out a fond but tearful chuckle. “I can’t expect her to grasp the nuances of… grief, or loneliness, or what have you.”

“How about this,” Jon says. “We tell Georgie what’s going on – as much or as little as you’d like, even if it’s as simple as ‘I don’t want to be alone right now.’ I doubt she’d be opposed to having you over.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose. I mean, I – I’ve not spent much time with her outside of just… spamming the group chat with cat photos. I like her, but she’s your friend. I’m just… a friend of a friend.”

Nestled between the words is a familiar sentiment, unarticulated and nonetheless resounding, echoing all of the earnest conviction it had when first she made such a confession: All my friends had been his friends, and once he was gone it didn’t feel right to see them. I know, I’m sure they wouldn’t have minded, they would have said they were my friends too, but I could never bring myself to try. It felt more comfortable, more familiar, to be alone…

“People can have more than one friend,” Jon says. “I can’t speak for Georgie, but she wouldn’t go out of her way to talk to you if she didn’t like you.”

Indeed, that might be the reason Jon was able to open up to Georgie in the first place. He observed early on that she had no qualms disengaging from people whom she had no interest in getting to know. Whatever Jon might have felt about himself on any given day, the simple fact of the matter was that Georgie would never have let him get so close if she hadn’t seen something redeeming in him.

And she likely wouldn’t be letting him stay close now if she didn’t still see something worth salvaging.

“It’s up to you, of course,” he says. “I won’t pressure you. But I think Georgie would be more receptive to friendship than you expect. And I think – I think you’d get along with Melanie, too.” Naomi is silent on the other end of the line. “At the risk of overstepping, I… I know being alone feels like the natural state of things, but it doesn’t have to be. If you want, I can talk to Georgie. Lay the groundwork. I won’t give her any of the details – it’s not my story to tell – I’ll just let her know that you’re feeling alone and could use some companionship.”

“Okay,” Naomi whispers. “Just… let her know she’s not obligated.”

“I will. On the extremely off chance she says no, or if she’s busy tomorrow, I can keep you company remotely. We can spend the whole day holding up the office landline if you want.”

“It’s a Friday.”

“And?”

“It’s a work day?”

“Naomi, my job is wholly comprised of monologuing to any tape recorder that manifests within a six-foot radius and doing my utmost to render my department as counterproductive to both the Institute’s professed and clandestine organizational objectives as humanly or inhumanly possible.” Naomi barks out a startled laugh. “I won’t be fired no matter what I do – which is a shame, seeing as it became my foremost professional development goal somewhere between finding out my boss murdered my predecessor and virtually dying in an explosion at a haunted wax museum. Barring a sudden and unexpected apocalyptic threat – which, admittedly, is unlikely but not unthinkable– I’ve already cleared my non-existent schedule for you.”

“Okay.” Naomi makes a sound somewhere between a sniffle and a chuckle. “Thanks. Really.”

“Any time.”

_________________

The statement is an unnerving, circuitous thing: a firsthand account from an unnamed member of the Drake-Norris expedition in 1589. In many ways, it’s eerily similar to the last statement Jon accessed from Pu Songling’s archives: Second Lieutenant Charles Fleming’s shellshocked, guilt-fueled confession of atrocities committed under orders.

The historical record is rife with accounts of Francis Drake’s cruelty, Jon knows: his role in the transatlantic slave trade, the unprovoked massacres committed in his name, the preemptive strikes that incited further bloodshed. The statement giver speaks in awestruck horror of the bloodlust lurking in the man’s eyes, the vitriolic fervor with which he undertook his campaign to seek out and destroy the remnants of the Spanish fleet – and the depths of his rage when his efforts ended in defeat. Humiliated, he turned his vengeful eye to the Galician estuaries.

The writer tells plainly of his own complicity in the sacking of Vigo, razing the town to the ground and slaughtering its inhabitants with indiscriminate zeal. For four days Drake’s men carried out their rampage, retreating only when reinforcements arrived to stem the tide.

“You may ask yourself,” the Archivist reads on, “how it is that a man born into the reign of Good Queen Bess sits before you today, some four centuries past his due?

“You see, as we left the shores of Galicia that day, I heard from behind us a vicious braying, as if someone had set loose a great host of hounds. They were close – close enough for me to sense their stinking breath hot on the back of my neck. Such a thing was impossible, for we were by that time far from shore, having already rowed half the distance between the beach and the waiting armada. That did not stop me dreading the dogs lunging and tearing into me at any moment.

“I am not ashamed to admit that I let out a whimper.

“As the seconds ticked by and the pack failed to descend upon us, my curiosity grew to outweigh my terror. I turned to look – and was thus ensnared. It was, I realize now, the instant at which I became beholden to the blood. My greatest folly.

“Perhaps I oughtn’t have been so surprised to see no hounds surging toward us atop the waves, but you must understand that the proximity of their snarling was far more convincing than their visual absence. In looking behind us, though, I was able to appreciate the havoc we left in our wake: the great plumes of ash rising from the smoldering rubble, backlit by a flickering orange glow, and wails of despair so profound as to combat the noise of the wind, the waves – even the discordant shrieking of the hounds.

“It was a scene of such devastation as I had never seen before or since. Looking back, I think upon the acrid stench of charred flesh on the breeze with horror and… indescribable remorse. It shames me now to admit that at that time, I had never felt such… rapture.

“That was when a motion caught my eye. Between the distance and the billowing smoke, it should have been impossible to discern such detail, yet there he was: quarry I had left for dead, emerging from the debris and staggering away from the ruins of his… wretched life. As he looked out to behold our retreat, I could see the grief playing on his face, the fury, the fear – but what most set my blood to boiling was the spark of relief I saw in his eyes.

“It awakened something in me – a famished and merciless thing, composed of tooth and claw and a mind beginning and ending and utterly encompassed by the call of the pack. With a roaring in my ears and a single-minded violence supplanting my sensibilities, I deserted the rowboat and swam to shore. A chorus of howls carried me forward, and I let them be my wings, steering me down the swiftest, straightest path to my target.

“I slowed for nothing, and I made certain my prey did not live through the night.

“As you can likely guess, the chase did not end there. Those baying devils who had so called me forth continued to hound my steps, nipping at my heels, spurring me ever onward to the next quarry. Those who once knew me would scarcely have recognized what I became. Whenever I dared look into a mirror, I would see in myself a dogged, seething violence so akin to that which had lived in the eyes of my former commander. A cruelty that once had frightened and repulsed me had become the blood and breath of me.

“For a time I sought to refrain from the chase. The longer I refused the call, the weaker I became. The hounds’ breath on my neck grew hotter; their braying swelled louder. I found myself wasting away: always hungry, never sated. Eventually my faculties began to slip. I would lose myself to such… bestialimpulses, and only the stain of blood on my teeth would return to me my reason. It pains me to confess to you now that it did not take long before I ceased my resistance entirely.

“It was at the turn of the sixteenth century that I happened upon the artefacts now in your possession. Their previous owner was a formidable adversary. I spent nearly a fortnight tracking him before I managed to run him down, and he fought like a tempest before he fell.

“Ordinarily I did not linger after a kill, instinct hastening me ever onward to the next great game. As I turned to leave, though, I was overcome by the sense that the hunt was… unfinished. Troubled, I reached down to check the man’s pulse. I was reassured to find him quite dead, but as I drew back, I noticed the brooch.

“It was a simple thing made of tarnished copper, fashioned into an incomplete ring, the ends of which resembled the heads of dogs. The moment my fingers brushed that ornament, I knew it was meant for me. It went into my pocket with nary a conscious thought.

“The itch of the hunt was still crawling down my spine, though; the frantic snuffling of phantom hounds yet filling the air all around me. I continued to search his person until I found what was calling out to me: a thin volume bound in leather. Curiosity ever my folly, I opened it.

“Up until that point, I had never learned to read nor write Latin with any degree of mastery. Yet I could understand the text within with perfect clarity. The script did not transform to English before my eyes, nor did the book render me proficient in the language. No, I simply… beheld the pages, and the meaning flowed into me.

“The story tells of Herla, legendary king of the Britons, who visits the dwarf king’s realm. Upon leaving, he is gifted a hound and warned not to dismount his horse until the dog leaps down. When Herla and his men return to the human world, they discover that not days but centuries have passed: all those they had known have long since perished, and the Saxons have taken possession of the land. In their distress, some of the men dismount, whereupon they turn to dust. Herla warns the survivors to stay in their saddles, to wait until the dog leaps down.

“‘The dog has not yet alighted,’ the author tells us, ‘and the story says that this King Herla still holds on his mad course with his band in eternal wanderings, without stop or stay.’

“The next several pages are unreadable. The language resembles none I have ever encountered, and I have yet to find a soul who can decipher it. I can however attest its hypnotic qualities. I have spent many hours mired in those words, but I could not for the life of me tell you what I saw there. Others to whom I presented the text found themselves either enthralled or agitated, though none could recall such episodes once lucidity returned to them. I expect you mean to unravel its secrets, but you may do well to let its mystery stand.

“The final passage – a single page, this written in English – tells of Herla’s escape: how, weary and driven to despair, he casts the dog from the saddle and into the River Wye. The instant the hound hits the water, Herla and his band crumble into dust, at last meeting the same fate they spent so many hundreds of years trying to outpace.

“I have had hundreds of years of my own since first reading the tale to digest its message, and that is why I come to you today. Although I have killed several times since these items came into my possession – it should come as no surprise that there are those who covet them – I have not sought out a single hunt since I vanquished the man who yielded me these trinkets. The hounds at my heel have not ceased their clamoring, but so long as the brooch is on my person, they cannot sink their teeth in me. I am always hungry, yes – but I am no longer starving.

“But I am also weary. I have come to understand that even as the hounds can never catch me, they will never leave me. In my four hundred years, I have played the role of both the hunter and the hunted, and have learned that they share the same ultimate plight. Whether I be predator or prey, I am trapped in the throes of an endless pursuit. So long as I should live, my blood shall never quiet.

“And that is the key: so long as I should live. Even now, the fervor in my blood insists that the hunt is eternal, but I know now that one cannot outrun one’s end forever. Much like my constant, howling companions, Death will always be nipping at my heels. In that sense, he is perhaps the ultimate hunter. Just as I have delivered to him so many souls, neither can I escape his judgment. If ever I am to rest, I must bow to his supremacy.

“And so, like Herla, I shall cast the dog away from the saddle. I leave it in your care now, and the book. I should be so lucky to exit this life with the dignity I denied so many others, though I fear I shall be found undeserving of such a swift end. I can only hope that, whatever my comeuppance should be, I shall have the grace to accept it without complaint.”

With a heavy exhale, Jon depresses the stop button on the recorder, then puts his head in his hands, putting pressure on his closed eyes.

“You alright?” Basira asks.

“More than I’d like,” Jon mutters.

“If I thought there was any chance this guy was still alive, I wouldn’t have given you the statement to read.”

“I know. Just…” Jon waves his hand vaguely.

“Unpleasant, yeah.”

And rejuvenating, Jon thinks bitterly. It’s only been a few days since his last statement from Daisy, and already he had begun to feel famished.

“They sent along some supplemental records,” Basira says, rifling through printouts. “The statement is cross-referenced with two objects in their Collections Storage – here.”

The document she slides across the desk contains two catalog listings:

Item No. 9820702-1

Description: Pennanular brooch, copper alloy. Geometric and interlace motifs. Confronted zoomorphic terminals (canine profile). Moderate surface oxidization and patination. Dimensions: 5.5cm x 4.5cm body; 12.5cm pin. Artefact dated ca. 500–700 CE.

Properties: Primary subject (Case No. 9820702) reports mediating effect on the Hunter’s affliction (unverified). Item implicated in subject’s alleged abnormal longevity (unverified). Further study suggests dormancy and/or lack of reactivity to unafflicted subjects (see associated Investigation Log).

Storage: Special Collections – Inorganic Storage, Container Unit No. 982-05. Acid-free board housing, etherfoam packing. Environmental parameters in brief: maintain stable temperature (16-20°C); relative humidity, 32-35%; light levels, <300 lux. Handling protocols as per Acquisitions & Collections Policies and Procedures §3.5.3: Artefact Preservation – Metals – Copper and Copper Alloys.

Access: Upon request. Curator approval required prior to initial visit. Applicants may submit statement of intent to Acquisitions & Collections Department Head Curator for clearance. Terms, procedures, and degree of supervision subject to Curator’s discretion.

Provenance: Surrendered 2nd July, 1982 upon receipt of accompanying statement (Case No. 9820702), subject name unknown. See also Item No. 9820702-2.

Appendices:

· Investigation Log No. 9820702-1;

· Supplemental Documents Nos. 9820702-1.01 through -1.03.

Cross-reference:

· Case No. 9820702;

· Item No. 9820702-2;

· Acquisitions & Collections Catalog §3.6.4: Antiquities – Adornments and Jewelry (Inert).

Item No. 9820702-2

Description: Bound manuscript. Front and back covers unembellished leather (source undetermined) stretched over wood board (source undetermined). Leather cord binding (calf, bovine). Paper and parchment leaves. Ink corrosion and paper degradation present but minimal (fair condition inconsistent with age and media). Dimensions: 8.8cm x 14.0cm x 2.5cm. Artefact dated ca. 1190–1450 CE.

Contents: Eighteen (18) pages total, one-sided.

· Title page (1) iron gall ink on parchment (sheepskin): Gualterius Mappus – De nugis curialium – xi. De Herla rege

· Pages two (2) through four (4) iron gall ink on paper (hemp pulp, linen fiber): Medieval Latin (ca. 12th century) script.

· Pages five (5) through sixteen (16) ink (chemical composition undetermined) on paper (cotton fiber): alphabetic script (unknown roots); refer to Supplemental Document No. 9820702-2.03 for comparative linguistic analysis (inconclusive).

· Page seventeen (17) ink (chemical composition undetermined) on paper (cotton fiber): Middle English (ca. 15th century) script.

· Page eighteen (18) parchment (sheepskin): blank.

Transcripts and translations (where possible) provided in Supplemental Document No. 9820702-2.01*.

Properties: Primary subject (Case No. 9820702) reports total comprehension of Latin portions of the text despite lack of proficiency. Text alleged to diverge from source material (De nugis curialium – Map, Walter, fl. 1200). Both claims verified upon further examination (see associated Investigation Log). Probable association with the Hunter’s affliction.

Storage: Special Collections – Secure Storage. Environmental parameters in brief: maintain temperature at 20-22°C; relative humidity, 32-36%; light levels, ≤50 lux. Housing and handling protocols as per Acquisitions & Collections Policies and Procedures §2.5.5: Document Preservation – Premodern Inks – Iron Gall and §9.2: Special Precautions – Occult and Esoteric Texts.

Access: Restricted.

Provenance: Surrendered 2nd July, 1982 upon receipt of accompanying statement (Case No. 9820702), subject name unknown. See also Item No. 9820702-1.

Appendices:

· Investigation Log No. 9820702-2;

· Supplemental Documents Nos. 9820702-2.01* through -2.07;

· Incident Report No. 9930214.

Cross-reference:

· Case No. 9820702;

· Item No. 9820702-1;

· Acquisitions & Collections Catalog §2.1.1: Archival Media – Occult Books (Active);

· Interdepartmental Bulletin No. 9941002, “The Library of Jurgen Leitner: Lessons Learned.”

*Addendum, 16th February, 1993:Supplemental Document No. 9820702-2.01 reclassified as Restricted Access. Direct all inquiries to Pu Songling Research Library Head Librarian or Acquisitions & Collections Department Head Curator.

“So?” Basira prods. “What do you make of it?”

“Well, assuming the statement is a reliable account, it seems…”

“Promising, right?” Basira says, her eagerness tinted with relief. “If we can–”

She stops abruptly as the tape recorder on the table clicks back on.

“I think that’s our cue to move this conversation elsewhere,” Jon says.

Not that it will stop the tape recorders from listening in, but he has no desire to make Jonah’s surveillance any easier for him.

_________________

It takes some hemming and hawing, but Jon manages to convince Basira that this really ought to be a group discussion. As she recaps the statement and shares her own remarks, Jon keeps a close eye on the other two people in the room. Martin is listening attentively, leaning forward slightly but otherwise at ease. Daisy, though… she’s all corded muscles and jittery legs, taut and precarious on the edge of her seat.

All the while, Basira appears impervious to the storm brewing in Daisy’s eyes, even as Martin catches on and begins chewing on the inside of his cheek, darting nervous glances between the two of them. By the time Basira finishes her overview, the tension in the air is palpable, nearly electric.

For several seconds, no one speaks.

“So,” Martin says, his voice a bit pitchy. He clears his throat before continuing. “Magical, Fear-resistant brooch, huh?”

“It wouldn’t be unheard of,” Jon says. “Remember what I told you about Mikaele Salesa?”

“The apocalypse-proof bubble? Yeah.”

“That camera of his didn’t just protect him from the Eye, it hid him from the Powers in general.”

“What was the catch?” Daisy asks pointedly. “Got to be a catch.”

“Does there?” Martin asks. His hesitant smile falls at Daisy’s blank stare, and he tilts his head back with a sigh. “Yeah, alright.”

“It’s… not entirely benign, no,” Jon says. “In Salesa’s statement, he called it a ‘battery’–”

“–charging itself on all the quiet worries that come from living in hiding, and then when the sanctuary collapses, all that fear flows out at once. No doubt, if my oasis breaks before I die, the Eye will get quite the feast from me, but in this new world–”

“That’s enough of that, I think,” Martin says, resting a hand on Jon’s arm.

Jon bites his tongue, shuts his eyes, and takes a deep breath in, only daring to speak once the tingling on his lips subsides. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for.” Martin offers him a reassuring smile. “Just didn’t want you getting bogged down.”

“That’s one term for it,” Jon says, not quite under his breath. It’s true enough, though. Sometimes it feels like the Archive is pressed up against the door, watching for the tiniest crack, waiting for any opportunity to surge through and drag him under. Lately, Martin has grown uncannily adept at sensing when to interrupt these lapses before they spiral out of control – likely because they’ve been growing more frequent.

“That’s what I thought,” Daisy says. Puzzled at the apparent non-sequitur, Jon glances at her, but she isn’t looking at him. All of her attention is focused on Basira. “This thing is probably the same. It’s not some… some harmless miracle solution. If we mess around with it, it’s bound to blow up in our faces sooner or later.”

“I’m… not sure about that, actually,” Jon says. “The brooch didn’t free the Hunter, it just made it so he couldn’t be caught. I think that’s what it was feeding on – the Hunter’s gradual awareness that he was no different from the hunted, that sensation of being perpetually stalked from the shadows by a greater predator. It spent centuries charging itself on that fear, and it culminated in the realization that he would never escape it. He would always be waiting for the axe to fall, and Hunt was happy to keep him as perpetual prey. If he wanted the chase to end, he had to give up the artefact – and once it was no longer keeping him in stasis, he had a choice to make.”

“Go back to hunting, or let it catch him.” Daisy breathes a humorless laugh. “The Hunt, or the End.”

“But it would keep you alive,” Basira says. “It would buy us time to find a way to free you for real.”

“What about the Leitner?” Martin asks. “That’s what Jonah sent us after in the first place.”

“Turns out it’s not actually from Leitner’s library,” Jon says. “No bookplate, and it seems the statement giver had it in his possession since the 1500s. It’s… difficult to tell from the statement whether it had any significant effect on him. He called it ‘hypnotic,’ but he was already a Hunter by the time he found it. I imagine it might have different effects on someone not already under the Hunt’s influence.”

“He sort of alluded to that.” Basira takes a moment to peruse the statement, running her finger along the page until she finds the relevant line. “Here – they ‘found themselves either enthralled or agitated.’ A bit obscure, but… he says it like it’s an afterthought. If it outright turned anyone into a Hunter, he probably would’ve said so.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t dangerous,” Daisy says.

“I never said it wasn’t,” Basira replies coolly. “The record references a transcript, so I assume they had someone read it at some point. And it also mentions an incident report.”

“What was the incident?” Martin asks.

“Don’t know,” Basira says. “They didn’t provide any of the supplemental documentation, just the catalogue listing and the statement itself. But they acquired the book in ‘82 and didn’t make the transcript restricted until ‘93, so… either it was dormant when they first studied it and became active later, or they didn’t study it closely enough to activate its effects, or it doesn’t affect everyone the same way, or – or maybe their workplace safety guidelines just changed and they decided not to risk studying it anymore.”

“Jonah did say something about its effects varying depending on how much of it a person reads, right?” Martin asks. “Though who knows where he got that from.”

“There might be some truth to that,” Basira says. “The catalogue entry does describe what’s on the title page, so I’m assuming that part at least is safe. I’m most curious about the untranslated chunk in the middle.”

And I’m a universal translator, Jon thinks, fidgeting with the drawstring of his hoodie. Basira’s eyes flick to him, as if reading his mind.

“I… suppose I could–”

“No,” Martin and Daisy say simultaneously.

Jon scowls. “You didn’t even let me finish the–”

“You threw yourself into the Buried – twice – to save me,” Daisy says severely. “You can’t keep sacrificing yourself at every opportunity.”

“I wouldn’t be–”

“What, re-traumatizing yourself by reading a Leitner?” Jon shuts his mouth, pressing his lips tightly together. “It’s not worth it, Sims.”

“Daisy,” Basira begins, but Daisy cuts her off.

“No. I’m not having him throw himself to the wolves just because you’re curious.”

Basira flinches, hurt momentarily crossing her face before her expression goes stony.

“You really think that’s what this is about?” she says, her voice shaking. “Knowledge for knowledge’s sake? Me being curious?”

“You can’t tell me you’re not,” Daisy says, and then her expression softens. “And I love that about you, I do – you’re brilliant, Basira – and driven, and passionate, and…” She sighs. “But sometimes… sometimes you need to let things go.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jon notices Martin cross and uncross his legs, his lower lip captured between his teeth. When Jon catches his eye, Martin jerks his chin minutely at Basira and Daisy, a grimace on his face. All Jon can offer is a helpless, equally awkward shrug. Near as he can tell, Basira and Daisy seem to have momentarily forgotten that they have an audience, and judging from their locked eyes and thunderous expressions, he doubts either of them would appreciate a reminder right this second.

“Let you go, you mean,” Basira says tersely. “When you say ‘it’s not worth it,’ what you really mean is that you’re not worth it.”

“Well, I’m not.”

The cavalier tone is the last straw, it seems.

“Why won’t you just let me help you?” Basira slams her hand down on the rickety table, straining its wobbly legs. “You’re just so ready to–” She lets out a frustrated groan. “You never used to give up this easily.”

“Maybe should’ve done,” Daisy says flatly. “Might’ve lowered my body count.”

“Giving up Hunting doesn’t have to mean giving up on living,” Basira says. “I might have finally found an alternative, and you won’t even consider–”

“I’m not doing anything that’s going to hurt someone, and that includes exposing Jon to a fucking Leitner.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Jon mutters testily, the friction finally getting the better of his nerves. “Don’t I get a say?”

“No, you don’t,” Daisy says, rounding on him. Now that all of her brimming agitation is funneled in his direction, he regrets saying anything at all. “Because lately, whenever I ask you if you want to hurt yourself, the best you can give me is ‘it doesn’t matter because I can’t die anyway.’”

“Jon?” Martin says urgently, his eyebrows drawing together.

“Th-that’s not what I–”

“You’re not thinking rationally,” Daisy speaks over Jon’s stammering. “You’re thinking like a condemned man with a rope around his neck and something to prove, and I’m not going to be the noose you use to hang yourself with.”

“Will you listen to yourself?” Basira says heatedly. “You get on my case about double standards–”

“That’s enough!” Martin bursts out. “This isn’t helping. Daisy’s right, Jon. You’re not going anywhere near that book – I don’t want to hear it,” he adds before Jon can retort. “Not now, anyway. We’ll talk later. But Basira’s right, too,” Martin says, turning his attention to Daisy. “You can’t make amends by dying, and you can’t do better going forward if you’re not alive to try.”

“Who says I deserve a chance?” Daisy says.

“Whatever you think you ‘deserve’” – Martin gives Jon a meaningful glance as he says it – “you’ve got a chance, and people who want to help you through it, and you ought to consider that before you assume you’d do more good dead than alive.” He exhales a sharp breath. “Anyway, forget the Leitner, and forget what Jonah said about it. The brooch seems like the more promising option here.”

“I agree,” Jon says, cowed. “Between the book and the brooch, the statement giver credited the latter with keeping the Hunt at bay. And perhaps my bias is showing, but truthfully I – I’m not inclined to see those books as anything but tragedies waiting to happen.”

“What’s the difference?” Daisy says flatly. “It took a decade for something bad enough to happen for them to make the Leitner’s transcript restricted. The brooch could be just as much of a time bomb. Just because it doesn’t have any ‘incidents’ connected with it now doesn’t mean it never will.”

She isn’t wrong. Looking back, Jon had found it infuriating that Leitner would continue meddling with the books even after he witnessed the horror they wrought, all while claiming to have learned from his hubris. Just because this particular artefact isn’t a book doesn’t make it any less ominous.

And yet…

“I think it’s already shown its more sinister side,” Jon says slowly.

“You think,” Daisy scoffs.

“It doesn’t give a Hunter strength, it makes them perpetual prey. It… won’t be pleasant for you, I’m sure,” Jon admits, “but Basira’s right – it could keep you alive while we search for a better solution.”

“There might not be a better solution,” Daisy says stubbornly.

“Which is what I said before you browbeat me into taking statements from you,” Jon counters.

“I didn’t browbeat–” Jon raises his eyebrows. Daisy gives a flustered groan. “It’s just – it’s different, okay?”

Much as Jon wants to disagree, he knows better than to argue. They’d only end up talking in circles.

“I think it’s an avenue worth pursuing,” he says. “Given the alternatives.”

“Please, Daisy,” Basira says. “Just… consider it, at least.”

The for me remains unspoken, but Jon can hear it loud and clear. As can Daisy, it seems – the defiant set to her jaw falters for a moment before she tenses again.

“Fine,” she says grudgingly. “But if it starts to go south–”

“If it manifests any new properties, we’ll prioritize containing it over interacting with it,” Jon says.

“You promise?” Daisy asks, but she looks at Basira when she says it. It takes a moment, but Basira does nod.

“Do you think Pu Songling will let us have it?” Martin asks. “Seems like their protocols are…”

“Rigorous?” Jon supplies.

“You’d almost think they were running an academic institution or something,” Basira says drily.

“Yeah, but treating the artefacts like museum pieces, it’s… it’s weird, isn’t it?” Martin says. “It’s not as if they’re fragile, right? They’re held together by… nightmare alchemy, or whatever.”

“I suppose it’s to be expected,” Jon says. “I know the Librarian has a degree in information science. And I recall her telling me that the Curator is an historian with a background in museology. But you’re right – it would be nice if Leitners were as delicate as the average old manuscript.”

“At least they’re flammable,” Daisy mutters.

“We spoke with the Head Curator,” Basira says. “She’s willing to work out a trade.”

“A trade?” Martin asks.

“Knowledge for knowledge,” Jon says. “An artefact for an artefact. I get the impression that the Librarian and the Curator are both very… collections-oriented. True to their titles, I suppose.”

“Hold up,” Daisy says. “‘The Librarian,’ ‘the Curator’ – are those just job titles, or are they, like… Beholding Avatar titles?” Jon blinks at her, perplexed. “I mean – the way you keep saying them, it’s sort of like…”

“What, ‘Archivist��?” Jon gnaws on his thumbnail as he pauses to consider. “I… don’t know, actually. I wasn’t really doing it consciously? It just…” He shrugs helplessly. “It felt right.”

“Is it coming from the Eye, then?”

“I have no idea, Basira.” Jon leans forward, props his elbows on his knees, and digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Hm.”

“In any case…” Jon exhales slowly, forcing himself to sit up straight again. “They seem to take the research and curation aspects of their roles to heart. They aren’t reckless with their pursuits, they take ample precautions, but the scholars at Pu Songling do study the items that come into their possession. And from what I understand, the Curator takes avid interest in adding to their collection. Same as the Archivist’s role is to record stories. To what extent her efforts are driven by her connection to the Eye versus her own innate curiosity, I couldn’t tell you, no more than I can make that distinction in myself.”

“Sort of a chicken-or-egg situation, then,” Daisy says.

“From an evolutionary perspective, the egg came first,” Jon says automatically. “Amniotic eggs have been around for over three hundred million years. Birds originated in the Jurassic, true galliforms didn’t evolve until at least the Late Cretaceous, phasianids don’t appear in the fossil record until about thirty million years ago, and chickens as we know them were only domesticated about eight thousand years ago–”

“Oh my god,” Daisy groans, putting her head in her hands.

“What?” Jon says, heat rising in his cheeks as Martin muffles a snicker beneath his hand. “I’m not wrong.”

“Pu Songling’s Collections Department is larger than our Artefact Storage,” Basira interjects, “but the, uh… Curator has a shortlist of artefacts she’s been on the lookout for. I checked our records and found a match. A ring – probably belongs to the Vast, based on the reports surrounding it. Looks like the Institute purchased it from Salesa in 2014, shortly before his disappearance. The Curator considers it an ‘equitable exchange,’ but she still wants to assess the ring in person before making the trade.”

“And we still have to talk to Sonja,” Jon adds. “On the one hand, she likely wouldn’t object to being rid of an artefact, but on the other hand… I imagine she won’t be keen on letting it out into the world.”

“I think it would be a harder sell if you were just going to swap it out for another artefact – something unfamiliar that they’d have to develop all new protocols for,” Martin says. “But yeah, even if you won’t be making the brooch her problem, she’ll probably still want to know what we want with it. And I can see her pressing the Curator on why she wants the ring when she gets here.”

“The Curator won’t be coming here,” Basira says evenly, casting a surreptitious glance at Daisy to gauge her reaction. “Says she’s too busy to travel.”

“So you have to haul the ring up to her,” Daisy says.

“I mean” – Basira breathes an uneasy laugh – “it’s a ring. Not much hauling involved–”

“Oh, don’t start–”

“–and there are precautions I can take. Looks like Artefact Storage has relatively thorough documentation for this one.”

“‘Relatively’?” Daisy repeats, unimpressed. “You were just complaining about how sparse their records are. ‘Relatively’ isn’t saying much.”

“Well, it’s better than nothing.” Basira rubs at her face. “I have to do this. Just… trust me.”

“You know I do–”

“Then let me have your back,” Basira says, practically pleading. “Let me help you.”

“Fine,” Daisy mutters, her posture going slack. “Do what you want.”

It’s not exactly a resounding endorsement, but it’s as good as they’re likely to get.

_________________

Despite Daisy’s lack of enthusiasm, Basira immediately throws herself into making arrangements. The Curator at Pu Songling is more than accommodating, seemingly as eager as Basira to make the trade. The real challenge is the Head of Artefact Storage.

It takes over a week of cajoling, lengthy justifications, and a concerted, collaborative effort from Basira, Jon, and Martin before Sonja finally, albeit reluctantly, agrees to discuss the matter with the Curator. Over the following days, Basira and Jon facilitate negotiations between the two: mediating a fair amount of (professional, but nevertheless pointed) verbal sparring early on, and later arbitrating the terms and conditions of the trade.

“You’d think that in the course of dealing with literal supernatural evil on a daily basis,” Basira gripes at one point, “bureaucracy wouldn’t be the biggest priority.”

“I’ve found that the bureaucratic process gives me ample time to make assessments,” Sonja says, unruffled. “Red tape has a way of bringing out the worst in people. Sometimes that’s a procrastinating student who woke up this morning, realized their deadline is next week, and ‘needs access to our materials, like, yesterday,’” she says, complete with finger quotes and a mocking tone. “And sometimes it’s some shady rich snob who’s been consistently cagey about his motives, and eventually he starts to go from impatient and entitled to desperate and frustrated, and that’s when the red flags start popping up crimson. After a while, you learn to distinguish the mundane sort of desperation from the more sinister sort.”

“Huh,” Jon says, smiling to himself. He knew Sonja was clever, but he never knew she was so calculating. It seems Jonah made the same mistake with Sonja as he did with Gertrude – overestimating a person’s curiosity and malleability, underestimating their prudence and pragmatism, and then promoting them to a position where they were free to act in a decidedly un-Beholding-like manner.

Once Sonja is sufficiently assured that the Curator has no intentions of utilizing the artefact or allowing it to venture beyond the secure confines of Pu Songling’s Collections Storage, the process starts to go a bit more smoothly. As expected, Sonja is amenable to the prospect of having one less piece of malignant costume jewelry, as she puts it, provided the Archival staff take full responsibility – both for the ring once Basira signs it out and for the artefact they receive in exchange.

“The ring has a compulsion effect,” Sonja tells them. “Makes people want to put it on – and once it’s on your finger, it’s not coming off until you hit the ground. Luckily it’s not a particularly active artefact, at least not compared to some of the other things we have here. I wouldn’t call it safe, obviously, but” – she raps her knuckles on the wooden beads of the bracelet on her opposite wrist – “it’s never breached containment.”

The how and why become abundantly clear upon seeing the closed ring box, so caked in earth and grime that it’s impossible to make out the color or material underneath.

“Buried, I take it,” Basira murmurs, giving Jon a sidelong glance.

“Yeah.” Jon grimaces at the phantom taste of soil on his tongue. “An artefact to contain an artefact.”

“Looks like the Curator is getting a twofer,” Basira says.

“Fine by me,” Sonja says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s the box it came in, actually. Don’t know why it works, but it does, and that’s all I care about. So long as you keep it closed, the worst you’ll get is vertigo. As far as we’ve observed, anyway. There’s always a chance that an artefact has more secrets than it lets on at first glance. Assuming you know everything there is to know is a good way to end up in a casket.”

“We’re well aware,” Jon says. “Believe me.”

“Seriously, though – if this goes tits up, I don’t want to hear it,” Sonja says sternly, all but wagging a finger. “And if you call up here a few months from now to tell me that you’ve got a rogue artefact wreaking havoc in the Archives, and I’ve got to put my people at risk to contain it, I will unleash unholy hell.”

The funny thing is, Jon believes her.

_________________

Despite the progress they’re making on obtaining the Hunter’s brooch, dissent continues to simmer within the group – particularly where Daisy is concerned. As the escalating tension in the Archives becomes ever more tangible, Martin begins to feel claustrophobic under the weight of all the things left unspoken.

Daisy is consistently ill-tempered: bellicose in one moment and taciturn in the next, frequently seeking out solitude whenever her agitation gets the best of her. Martin suspects that her volatile mood has as much to do with her deteriorating condition as it does to do with her lingering aversion to the rest of the group’s efforts. Although she and Basira haven’t had another row – so far as Martin is aware, anyway – there’s been an undeniable friction between them. On the worst days, Basira keeps to herself, burying her head in her research while Daisy slinks off to some dark corner of the Archives to brood until Jon comes to drag her away from her thoughts.

Not that Jon is much better. He’s been sullen lately, growing more withdrawn, sleeping less and jumping at shadows even more than usual. Martin often catches him in a trance, staring vacantly into space and droning horrors under his breath. More and more he lapses into statement clips mid-sentence, regardless of how recently he’s had a statement. Sometimes, all it takes is a momentary slip for Jon to lose his footing and devolve into a frenzied litany of back-to-back, fragmentary horror stories. On a few recent occasions he’s lost his voice entirely, though luckily it’s only been for an hour or two at a time.

(So far, Jon says morosely after each episode.)

Most unsettling, though, is the chronic faraway look in his eye, like he’s seeing something else. Like he’s somewhere else, lost across an unbridgeable divide.

Martin is well-acquainted with the sensation of feeling alone in the presence of others. That doesn’t make it any less distressing. It’s not that Jon intends to be distant. He might not even be aware of it; would likely be mortified if he knew just how much that detachment stirred Martin’s longstanding fears of isolation and abandonment. Jon’s still affectionate, after all. Although he seems reluctant to actively seek out comfort these days, he’s still prompt to take an outstretched hand, to lean into a kind touch, to accept a proffered embrace. Still makes a concerted effort to muster, however feebly, a soft smile whenever Martin enters a room. Still attempts to be present and attentive and open.

But sometimes it feels like Jon is out of reach, separated from the rest of the world, watching it pass him by through layers of frosted glass. Martin knows the feeling. What he doesn’t know is how to fix it.

Before long, Basira is set to leave for Beijing, an artefact of the Vast nestled away in her luggage amidst assurances to Sonja that, yes, under no circumstances will Basira attempt to take it on a plane or into the open ocean because, no, Basira does not have a death wish, thank you very much.

Martin half-expects another quarrel to break out on the eve of Basira’s departure, but Daisy is oddly subdued. Perhaps she just doesn’t want to part ways with angry words and unresolved arguments, or perhaps she’s simply come to accept the rest of the group’s decision to move forward with the plan. Considering the dark circles under her eyes, though, it’s just as likely that she’s simply too fatigued to start a fight.

A few days later, Martin descends the ladder into the tunnels to find Jon standing at his makeshift desk, staring down at the map unfurled across its surface – the product of the group’s ongoing efforts to survey the sprawling tunnel system of the former Millbank Prison. The blueprint-in-progress is an equally sprawling thing: sheets of mismatched paper layered one atop the next and taped together, its irregular borders comprised of haphazard angles and dog-eared edges.

The hand-drawn map on its surface is chaotic, reflecting the penmanship of four different authors. Jon’s contributions might be the messiest – the burn scar contracture on his dominant hand renders his lines shaky at best, and his handwriting has always been a tad chickenscratch. Daisy’s isn’t much better. Conversely, Basira’s additions are the neatest, her strokes as steady as the persona she tries to project to the world. Martin’s are passable, if only because, unlike Jon or Daisy, he actually has the patience to use rulers and book edges to trace straight paths.

To be fair, it would probably look a mess no matter how painstaking they were in constructing it. The tunnels are as labyrinthine as expected: a vast network of arterial corridors with offshoots along their lengths, branching into three- or four-way forks, most of which lead to dead ends. Occasionally, they find a path that loops back around and connects other parts of the maze, creating a series of meandering, convoluted closed circuits. It’s difficult to tell just by looking, but they are (Martin hopes) making progress. At the rate they’re going, they have to be on track to find the Panopticon before the winter solstice.

In any case, as Martin approaches the desk, he sees that familiar vacant look on Jon’s face, as if he isn’t actually seeing what’s in front of him. The effect is underscored by the cigarette burning away in his hand, hanging limp and forgotten at his side. Martin clears his throat lightly, in deference to Jon’s hair-trigger startle reflex. He doesn’t count the fact that Jon doesn’t jump at all as a success. If anything, it’s cause for concern.

“Jon?” Martin tries. There’s a slight delay before Jon glances over, giving Martin no acknowledgment aside from a sluggish blink before lowering his head again.

“I, uh…” Martin offers a weak smile, attempting to keep his tone light. He gestures at the cigarette. “I thought you quit?”

Jon shrugs, refusing to meet Martin’s eyes. “Not like it’ll kill me.”

“Might catch up with you later, though,” Martin says, scratching at his neck. “You know, once we find a way out of here.”

“There is no ‘out’ for me,” Jon says mulishly.

“You don’t know that. Or Know it.” Jon’s only reaction is to press his lips tightly together, like he’s biting back a retort. “Look, I’m not trying to nag you, I just wor– Jon!” Martin yelps as he watches Jon put his cigarette out on the back of his hand.

Martin lunges forward, grabbing Jon’s hand and yanking it close to inspect the damage. It’s the same hand that Jude shook, already textured and pitted with webs of hypertrophic scarring. Somehow, Jon managed to plant this newest burn on a patch of previously-undamaged skin, sandwiched between two bands of knotted tissue.

The contours of her fingers, Martin recognizes with a queasy lurch – followed by another when he thinks to wonder whether Jon sought out that scrap of healthy skin on purpose just now.

Jon barely reacts, staring into space with wide eyes and dilated pupils. Martin looks down again to see the circular singe mark already knitting itself back together, leaving only a small, shiny patch of discoloration ringed with a dusting of ash. In all likelihood, even that will be gone by morning.

If only all wounds would heal so easily.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Martin hisses, fighting to keep his voice even. He brushes a soothing thumb over the spot, as if to apologize to the abused skin on Jon’s behalf.

Jogged out of his reverie by Martin’s sharp tone, Jon stares daggers at him, his mouth open as if to unleash a scathing reprimand, the set of his jaw so reminiscent of those early days in the Archives. An instant later, though, he withers, cringing away and fixing his eyes on the floor.

“I wasn’t,” he mumbles, at least having the decency to sound contrite. “Wasn’t really paying attention.”

It’s not the first time Martin’s witnessed a self-inflicted injury. When pressed, Jon always claims that it’s not a deliberate, planned form of self-punishment, but rather a reflex reaction that kicks in when he starts feeling adrift in time. Somewhere along the line, it seems, he convinced himself that physical pain is as good a shortcut as any – a sort of panic button to bring him back to the present when he needs grounding.

Whatever his intentions, though, and no matter what rationalizations Jon wants to dole out, it’s not a healthy coping mechanism. And it’s difficult for Martin to believe that self-punishment doesn’t factor at all, considering Jon’s obsessive guilt spirals and his blasé attitude towards being hurt.

“‘S already healed,” Jon says with a spiritless shrug. He drops the snuffed-out remainder of his cigarette on the floor and unnecessarily grinds it under his heel.

“That’s not the point.” Martin doesn’t realize how tightly he’s grasping Jon’s hand until Jon winces. Although Martin relaxes his grip somewhat, he doesn’t let go. “It doesn’t matter how quickly your body heals, or that you’ve had worse, or whatever other justifications you want to make. You’re still getting hurt. That’s not okay, and – and if it were me in your shoes, you’d be telling me the same thing.”

“I’m sorry.” Jon’s hair falls to cover his face as he ducks his head.

It’s fine, Martin almost says – except it’s not, is it?

“Come on,” he says instead, guiding Jon to sit in the nearest chair before taking a seat next to him. Where before Jon was all stiff limbs and rigid spine, now he looks like he’s given up the ghost, drooping like a wilting flower.

Though he allows Martin to keep hold of his hand, Jon doesn’t return the pressure. And Jon’s skin is freezing – no doubt partly due to the damp chill of the tunnels, and partly because he has, by his own admission, always had shit circulation. Combined with his limp fingers and loose grip, though, the overall effect is far too reminiscent of those months spent keeping vigil over Jon’s hospital bed, his hand nothing but cold, dead weight in Martin’s.

It took too long for Martin to admit that he had been foolish to hope that Jon was still in there somewhere, aware of Martin’s presence, fighting to regain consciousness. The whole time, Martin was just keeping his own company. Jon wasn’t just unreachable – he wasn’t there at all.

(Martin had been wrong about that in the end. He doesn’t know that he’ll ever forgive himself for not being there when Jon woke up.)

Martin bites his lip as he formulates a response. He’s learned over the years that when Jon is like this, it’s best to strike a careful balance between docility and defiance. Push too hard too fast, and Jon will dig his heels in; approach him too tentatively, and he’s liable to interpret concern as pity; force him to talk about his feelings, and he’ll bolt; smother him with tenderness, and he’ll balk.

Granted, Jon has become much more receptive to tenderness over the years. Most of the time, anyway. When his skewed self-worth and convictions about what he does and doesn’t deserve don’t get in the way.

“At the risk of being a nag–”

“You’re not a nag,” Jon says softly.

“When’s the last time you had a statement?”

“A few days ago.” The response is too quick, too automatic.

“A few days ago,” Martin repeats, allowing a bit of disbelief to seep into his voice.

Jon nods stiffly. “Monday, I think.”

“Today is Tuesday.”

“I–” Jon cuts off his own retort, turning to blink owlishly at Martin. “Is it?”

“Yeah,” Martin says, his heart sinking. Jon must be losing time again. “So you had a statement yesterday?”

“No, I – I don’t…” Jon squints up at the ceiling, wracking his brain. “I don’t think so? It’s – I think I would recall if it had been shorter than one day.”

“So, last Monday?”

“I don’t – I don’t know,” Jon says, growing testy. “I suppose. Must’ve been.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I’m always hungry.” The admission is devoid of all the simmering agitation that had been there only moments before. Now, he just sounds tired.

“Well… I think you might be due for one.” Although Martin had been striving for gentle suggestion, there’s a harsh edge to the words. Rather than get Jon’s hackles up again, though, he seems to crumple under what he doubtless reads as an accusation.

“You’re right,” he says hoarsely. “And I’m sorry. I know lately I’ve been…”

“Tetchy,” Martin offers, just as Jon says, “a bit of a prick.”

“Your words, not mine,” Martin says with a tentative grin. Jon returns his own feeble half-smile, but it quickly falters.

“I’ve almost exhausted Daisy’s catalogue,” he confesses. “Only a handful left now. I’ve got to make them last until the solstice.”

An apprehensive chill runs down Martin’s spine at that. “And then what?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

There’s virtually no chance that Jon, prone to rumination as he is, hasn’t been dwelling on it.

“Basira said she has a few statements, right?” Martin asks. “Which… if you already have a statement about an encounter, can you still get nourishment from other statements about it, so long as it’s coming from someone else’s point of view?”

“Probably.” Jon shrugs one shoulder. “The factual details of the encounter are less important than the subject’s emotional response. Different perspective, different story, different lived experience of fear.”

“Then… you have my statement about the Flesh attack, but there’s still Basira’s. And – and maybe Melanie–”

“I’m not taking another statement from Melanie,” Jon says tersely. “She’s been tethered to me for too long without say, and I’m not dragging her back in.”

“But if it’s consensual–”

“It won’t be, because I don’t consent.”

“If the alternative is literally starving–”

“I’ll find another alternative. Or I won’t. But I’m not asking Melanie for a statement.” Jon keeps his head bowed, but he looks up at Martin through his lashes. “The first time she quit, I was worried that she might show up in my nightmares again, but she didn’t. I don’t know if her severance from the Eye will keepher out of my nightmares if she gives me a new statement, and… I can’t risk it. I can’t do that to her. Even if the nightmares weren’t an issue… I’m not going to ask her to relive yet another traumatic experience for my benefit–”

“–I shall choose to die rather than take part in such an unholy meal–”

Jon claps a hand over his mouth, a panicked look in his eye.

“…nor shall I take my own life, whatever extremity my suffering may reach,” he tacks on, too much of an afterthought for comfort.

“Which means we need to plan for the future,” Martin says, forcing calm into his voice despite the way his heart picks up its pace.

“But it can’t involve Melanie,” Jon says – gentler than before, but still firm.

“No, you’re – you’re right,” Martin relents. “It wouldn’t be fair to her. But we could still ask Basira.”

Jon makes a noncommittal noise, his expression rapidly going pinched and closed off again.

“Lately,” Martin says, licking his lips nervously, “lately it feels like you’ve been shutting everyone out again. It isn’t healthy–”

“Healthy?” Jon’s glare could burn a hole in the floor. “I don’t need to be healthy, I just need to be whatever it wants.”

Once, Martin might have been daunted by Jon’s scathing tone. By now, he knows that Jon is all bluster – and that the brunt of it is turned inward, against his own self.

“Please, Jon. Tell me what’s going on. You’re worrying me.”

Those, apparently, are the magic words, because Jon finally capitulates.

“It’s October,” he tells the floor.

“It… is October, yeah.” Bewildered, Martin waits for elaboration. When a minute passes with no response forthcoming, he prompts, “Is that… bad…?”

“Historically, yes, it has been,” Jon says with a tired, frayed-sounding chuckle.

“I… Jon, I need you to help me out here,” Martin says helplessly. “I can’t read your mind.”

“October is when it happens, Martin.” Jon glances at Martin once, quickly, before returning his gaze to the ground. He’s twisting one hand around the opposite wrist now, fingers curled tightly enough to blanch his knuckles. “The eighteenth. When everything goes wrong.”

“You mean…”

Jon’s sharp inhale becomes a choked exhale, which in turn abruptly cuts off as the Archive takes its cue.

“…what settled over me wasn’t dread; there wasn’t enough uncertainty for that. It was doom. I was certain that some sort of disaster was on the horizon–”

“–something bad. Something unspeakable. And I would have helped make it happen–”

“–the fear never really went away. I’ve heard that being exposed to the source of your terror over and over again can help break its power over you, numb you to it, but in my experience it just teaches you to hide from it. Sometimes that might mean hiding in a quiet corner of your mind, but–”

“–soon enough, I could no longer fool myself–”

“–the calm I had been getting accustomed to had been torn away completely, and where it had been was just this horrible, ice-cold terror–”

“–that – we can’t escape the ruins of our own future–”

“–a future where – humanity was violently and utterly supplanted, and wiped out by a new category of being–”

“–there are terrible things coming – things that, if we knew them, would leave us weak and trembling, with shuddering terror at the knowledge that they are coming for all of us–”

“–I think in my heart, I have been waiting for this moment. For the final axe to fall–”

“–we create the world in a lot of ways. I suppose it shouldn’t be surprising that, when we’re not being careful, we can change it–”

There’s a breathless pause before Jon continues, in a nearly inaudible whisper: “What could I have chosen to change? Would a different path have been possible?”

“It is,” Martin says firmly, “and we’re on it. What happened last time won’t happen again. We won’t let it.”

Jon doesn’t acknowledge the reassurance.

“I should’ve known,” he says with a quiet ferocity, in his own voice this time. “It was too peaceful. I should’ve known it wasn’t going to last. And – and on some level I did know – I knew it wasn’t over – but I just… I didn’t want to be the one to shatter the illusion, I suppose.” His expression goes taut. “Didn’t much matter what I wanted, in the end. But I still should’ve seen it coming. Can’t let my guard down again.”

“How could you have known?” Martin doesn’t intend for it to come out as exasperated. He tries to reel it back, to gentle his tone. “You’ve said yourself that you can’t predict the future–”

“No, but I knew Jonah had plans for me. And I knew nothing good could come of feeding the Eye, but I kept on anyway.”

“It’s not like you were doing it for fun, Jon! You needed it to survive, and Jonah took advantage of that. Or…” No – that makes it sound purely opportunistic, doesn’t it? In reality, it was all part of Jonah’s long game from the start. “He made you dependent on statements specifically becausehe wanted to take advantage of that.”

“I made choices,” Jon says tonelessly. “I can’t absolve myself of responsibility just because Jonah was nudging me in a particular direction.”

“You were manipulated,” Martin insists, “and I’m not having you apologize for surviving it. For not starving to death.”

“You don’t understand,” Jon says, growing more distressed, reaching up with both hands and tangling his fingers in his hair. “When that box of statements finally arrived, I… I couldn’t shoo you away fast enough. I was hungry, yes, but I wasn’t starving yet. I could’ve waited longer, but I just… I wanted one–”

“–should have fought harder against the temptation – but my curiosity was too strong–”

“You shouldn’t have to wait until you’re literally on death’s doorstep before you fulfill a basic need,” Martin interrupts.

“I should when that ‘basic need’ entails serving the Beholding,” Jon says heatedly. “And I – I should’ve known better – should’ve known not to jump headlong into the first statement that caught my eye. I’d known for a while that the Beholding leads me away from statements it doesn’t want me to know. It logically follows that it would lead me towards statements that would strengthen it. If I’d had any sense, I would’ve been suspicious of anything in that box that called out to me. It didn’t… it didn’t feel any different, but I – I suppose that somewhere along the line I just got used to… to wandering down whatever path I was led. I didn’t think, I never stop to think–”

“If anything, Jon, you overthink. You’re overthinking right now.”

Martin has known for a long time now that Jon will latch onto the smallest details, allow his thoughts to branch into an impossible number of routes and tangents, tie together loose threads in countless permutations in the interest of considering all possible conclusions, no matter how outlandish. He will apply Occam's razor in one moment before tossing it into the bin, only to fish it out again: lather, rinse, repeat. His mind is a noisy, cluttered conspiracy corkboard, and he’ll hang himself with red string if given half a chance, just to feel like he’s in control of something.

“It’s easy to look back and criticize your past self,” Martin says, “but he didn’t know what you do. If we knew the outcome to every action, maybe we wouldn’t make mistakes, but we’re only human–”

“Not all of us.”

“–so we just have to do the best with what we have in the moment,” Martin continues, paying no heed to Jon’s grumbled comment. No good will come of guiding him down that rabbit trail right now. Anyway, Martin has a more pressing concern–

“Why didn’t you tell me about any of this sooner?” he blurts out, immediately wincing at his lack of tact. “That came out wrong–”

“Why didn’t I tell you how quick I was to chase you out of the house and sink my teeth into a statement the moment temptation presented itself?” Jon scoffs. “Because I’m ashamed. Why else?”

“No, not–” Martin scrubs a hand over his face. It’s a struggle, sometimes, not to grab Jon by the shoulders and shake him until all of that stubborn self-loathing falls away. “About the fact that you’ve got a – a post-traumatic anniversary event coming up, I mean. You haven’t been well, and I thought I understood why – thought it was just… all of it, in general. But here I come to find you’ve been agonizing over the upcoming date of the single worse day of your life–”

“One of the worst,” Jon says quietly.

“What?”

“I didn’t lose you until much later.”

Martin’s breath catches in his throat at that, a sharp pang shooting through his chest.

“Well… you’ve got me now,” he says meekly. “So – so you don’t have to suffer in silence, is what I’m saying. What happened to you – no, what was done to you – it was horrible, and it wasn’t your fault. I know you don’t believe that, but it’s the truth.”

“Either I’ve always been caught up in someone else’s web, passively having things happen to me with no control over my life–”

“–the Mother got exactly the result she no doubt wanted, one that would lead to a fear – so acute that I could later have that horror focused and refined into a silk-spun apotheosis–”

Jon bites down on one knuckle, eyes shut tight as he waits for the compulsion to subside.

“Or,” he says after a minute, “or I do have control, and I can change the outcome, which makes me culpable. I don’t know which prospect I hate more. Which probably says some unflattering things about me.”

“It’s not that simple–”

“It is,” Jon says viciously. “If there is another path, then I should’ve found it last time!” He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes a steadying breath. When he speaks again, he’s no longer bordering on shouting, but there’s a quaver in his voice, a fragility that Martin finds more disconcerting than any flash of anger. “The way I see it, there are two options. One, what happened in my future was inevitable and nothing I could’ve done would’ve changed it – which certainly doesn’t bode well for this timeline. Or, the outcome can be changed, in which case my choices matter, and had I just made better choices, maybe I could have prevented all of this from ever happening in the first place.”

“You’re not being fair,” Martin says, his hands clenching into fists – but Jon isn’t listening.

“Doesn’t make much difference, I suppose. The consequences are the same either way–”

“–billions of – people making their way through life who had no idea what was right above their heads–”

“–would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters–”

“–minds so strange and colossal that we would never know they were minds at all–”

“–idiots who destroyed themselves chasing a secret that wasn’t worth knowing–”

“–there, caught up in a series of events that I didn’t understand but that terrified me – I did the stupidest thing I’ve ever done–”

“–running was pointless. To try to escape from my task would only serve to fulfill another. I finally understood what I needed to do–”

“–I don’t know if you have ever drowned, but it’s the most painful thing I have ever experienced–”

“–I do not suppose I need to dwell on the pain, but please know that I would sooner die than endure it again–”

“Would you?” Martin says abruptly. Jon won’t look at him. “Jon, I need to know if you’re feeling like hurting yourself.”

“What would it matter if I was?” Jon still won’t look at him. “I’m categorically incapable of hurting myself in any way that matters.”

Martin blinks in disbelief. “Okay, that’s blatantly untrue.”

Jon has been a glaring portrait of self-neglect for as long as Martin has known him. That simple lack of consideration for himself, together with compounding survivor’s guilt, was the perfect stepping stone to active self-endangerment. Now that Jon’s convinced himself he’s invulnerable to a normal human death, he’s all the more careless with himself.

“I don’t want to die,” Jon whispers. “That’s the problem.”

“What—?”

“Before, I was unknowingly putting the entire world at risk by – by waking up after the Unknowing, by crawling out of the Buried, by escaping the Hunters, by continuing to read statements like it was – like it was something routine, as unremarkable as – as taking tea. Now, though – now I know better. I know what Jonah is planning, I saw what I’m capable of, and still I… I don’t want to die.”

“Well… good,” Martin says. “You should want to live–”

“It doesn’t much matter what I want–”

“–I never wanted to weigh up the value of a life, to set it on the scales against my own, but that’s a choice that I am forced into–”

“–doesn’t get to die for that – gets to live, trapped and helpless, and entombed forever – powerless–”

“–a lynchpin for this new ritual – a record of fear–”

Shit, Martin thinks the instant he recognizes the statement. It’s the worst of them all, virtually guaranteed to send Jon spiraling.

“–both in mind as you walk the shuddering record of each statement, and in body as the Powers each leave their mark upon you – a living chronicle of terror – a conduit for the coming of this – nightmare kingdom–”

“Okay, okay, stay with me–”

“–the Chosen one is simply that: someone I chose. It’s not in your blood, or your soul, or your destiny. It’s just in your own, rotten luck–”

“Jon, can you hear me? Jon–”

“–I’ll admit, my options were somewhat limited, but my god, when you came to me already marked by the Web, I knew it had to be you. I even held out some small hope you had been sent by the Spider as some sort of implicit blessing on the whole project, and, do you know what, I think it was–”

Martin reaches over, taking both of Jon’s hands in his own and squeezing tightly. The pressure seems to do the trick: lucidity sparks in Jon’s eyes and he takes a deep, ragged breath, as if coming up for air.

“There you are. Are you okay?” Martin rubs both thumbs over the backs of Jon’s hands in rhythmic, soothing motions. “Hey, it’s–”

“I don’t want your kindness!” Jon snaps, jerking backwards and snatching his hands out from Martin’s grip.

Both of them lapse into a stunned silence. As mortification dawns on Jon’s face, Martin can feel the color rising in his cheeks. It only takes a few seconds for the blood rushing in his ears to be drowned out by another voice.

Martin can remember with cutting clarity the days prior to his mother’s departure to the nursing home. She had been in (somewhat) rare form, her already-short fuse dwindled down to nothing, sniping at him around the clock, full of caustic observations and spiteful accusations.

I don’t want your help, she had sneered as she entered the cab, swatting his hand away.

It was one of the last things she ever said to him.

“Well, tough,” Martin bites out, “because you deserve it, and you never should’ve had to go without it, and you’re not going to change my mind about that, so you may as well stop trying!”

“Martin, I – I – I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”

He saw, Martin realizes all at once, his skin crawling with humiliation.

“I’m going to go make some tea,” Martin says, rising to his feet.

Jon reaches out a hand. “Martin–”

“I just need a breather, okay?” Martin says, a pleading note to his voice. His lungs are constricting, his chest is tightening, there’s a lump in his throat, and he really doesn’t want to have a panic attack in the tunnels – or in front of Jon. “I’m not – I’m not angry, okay, I just need some air.”

Jon opens his mouth, then immediately closes it, clutches his hands to his chest, and gives a tiny nod that Martin just barely glimpses before turning to flee.

_________________

“Stop crying,” Jon hisses at himself, furiously scrubbing at his face as the tears slide down his cheeks. “Stop it.”

He plasters the heels of his hands over his closed eyelids. It does nothing to stem the flow, only brings to mind images of pressing himself bodily against a door to hold it closed, only for the crack to continue widening, millimeter after millimeter, the flood on the other side trickling through the gap, rivulets swelling into rivers, frigid eddies biting at his ankles, a whitewater undertow threatening to drag him below the waves–

“Enjoying our own company, are we?”

Once, Jon might have been humiliated to be caught mid-breakdown, raw-voiced and puffy-eyed, especially by Peter Lukas of all people. Several lifetimes spent in thrall to cosmic horrors have a way of putting things in perspective.

“What do you want?” Jon says with as much ire as he can muster.

Peter hums to himself, starting a slow, back-and-forth pace in front of Jon. “It occurred to me that I’ve been derelict in my duties as far as the Archives are concerned–”

“That’s just now occurring to you?”

“–and, as such, I thought it was high time that I met the infamous Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute.”

“Well,” Jon scoffs, gesturing at himself, “you’ve met him.”

“I must admit, I was expecting something a bit more… hm.” Peter taps a finger against his lips. “Formidable.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” The scathing sarcasm is rendered pitiful by an ill-timed, involuntary sniffle. Jon can’t bring himself to care.

“The state you’re in, you hardly seem fit to work.” A pause. “Have you ever considered taking some time off?”

“A six-months hospital stay has a way of eating up your PTO, oddly enough. I’m told that payroll already has already had to make special exceptions for my ‘unprecedented’ circumstances.” Jon chuckles to himself. “On multiple occasions. Did you know the Institute considers a kidnapping in the line of duty to be an ‘unexcused absence?’”

“I think you’ll find that Elias and I have different management styles,” Peter says mildly. “I’m open to making allowances – particularly since your department can function so smoothly in your absence. Your assistants have proven themselves to be quite capable of working independently – and seeing as your approach to supervision borders on fraternization, I imagine they would be more productive without excess drama to distract them.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” Jon says acerbically.

“No need.” Jon squints at him, and Peter stare him down. “It’s not a request, Archivist. It’s an order.”

There was a time, not long ago, that sneaking up on the Archivist would have been difficult. Only Helen had consistently managed to ambush him, and that was because she didn’t waste time sneaking – she manifested and launched the jump scare in the same instant, giving him no chance to See her approach. Readjusting to a binocular point of view had been a process, but rarely does he find himself yearning for the panoramic field of vision that had been foisted upon him during the apocalypse.

Occasionally, though, there are moments when 360° sight would come in handy. Too late, Jon realizes this is one of those moments.

By the time he notices the tendrils of encroaching fog, they’re already curling around from behind him, pooling at his feet, ghosting across the back of his neck, affixing themselves around his wrists.

“It’s alright,” Peter says placidly, almost soothingly. “You can let go now.”

Jon shivers as his heart pumps ice through his veins, fingers and toes going numb as he struggles for breath.

No. No, no, no, no, no–

“I am not Lonely anymore,” Jon gasps out through chattering teeth.

“No,” Peter says with an air of nonchalance. Then he smiles, sharp and cold and cruel and the only detail Jon can still discern through the fog. “But you will be.”

___

End Notes:

Daisy: hey siri, google what to do if i suspect my bff has been possessed by the ghost of a fussy paleornithologist Jon: why are you booing me????? i’m right

Pretty sure this is the longest chapter yet? Probably bc of the statement. I could’ve split it into two, but, uh. I like that cliffhanger where it is. >:3c (Sorry for that, btw.)

Quite a bit of Archive-speak this chapter. Citations as follows: Section 1: 122/124/011/007/047/155. The Xiaoling quote is from MAG 105; the Jonah quote is ofc from 160; the Naomi quote is from 013. Section 3: 181. Section 5: 058 x2; 144/130/086/143/121/149/134/144/143/069; 147; 017; 147; 057/160/106/111/067/121/129/098; 155/128/160; 160 x3. Section 6: 170, of course.

I’m taking wild liberties with Pu Songling Research Centre’s whole deal. I’m conceptualizing their spookier departments as being like… actually academia-oriented, instead of “local Victorian corpse with illusions of godhood throws a bunch of traumatized nerds with no relevant archival experience into a basement, what happens next will shock you”. Xiaoling is out here like “our digitization is still a work in progress, I’m sure you know how it is” and Jon Sims is like “digitization who? i don’t know her”. (Listen, he tried once. Tape recorder was haunted, he got kidnapped a bunch, there were worms and things, he died (he got better), his boss used him as a battering ram to open a door to Fearpocalypse Hell – it was a lot.)

Likewise, we didn’t get much info about Sonja in canon, so I’m having fun envisioning her as a certified Force To Be Reckoned With (and a bit of a Mama Bear wrt her assistants). Most of the Institute is leery of the Archives (& especially Jon) but Sonja’s seen a lot of shit and Jon Sims doesn’t even rank on her list of Top Spooky Scary Things.

re: the statement – it’s not clear in-text, but I want to clarify that I’m not conceptualizing Francis Drake as being influenced by the Hunt. Fictionalizing aspects of history is tricky, and I’d feel personally uncomfortable chalking up Drake’s real life atrocities to supernatural influence, even in fiction. In the case of this particular fictional member of his crew, he was (like Drake’s real-life crew) complicit in following Drake’s orders for entirely mundane reasons and was only marked by the Hunt at the point in his statement where he first recounts hearing the Hunt chasing after him.

At some point in writing this chapter, I had 137 tabs open in my browser for Research Purposes and like 20 of those were bc my dumb ass seriously considered writing that statement in Elizabethan English before going “what are you DOING, actually.” If I’d tried, it would have come off as inauthentic at best, if not ridiculous, bc I’m unfamiliar with English linguistic trends of the 1500s, and I’d basically be badly mimicking Shakespearean English, which isn’t necessarily indicative of how everyone spoke at the time, and I don’t know what colloquial speech would look like for this particular unnamed character I trotted out as exposition fodder, and it was probably unnecessary to formulate a whole-ass personal history for him for the sake of Historical Realism for a single section of a single chapter of a fanfic, and… In the end, I decided that this pseudo-immortal rando can tell his life story in modernized English, as a treat (to me) (and also to those of you who don’t think of slogging through bastardized Elizabethan prose as a fun endeavor).

Speaking of research – shoutout to this dissertation that had an English translation of the Herla story in Walter Map’s De nugis curialium, and if you want to read the whole story, you can find it on pages 16-18 of that paper. I feel it’s important for you all to know that IMMEDIATELY after Map dramatically proclaims, “the dog has not yet alighted, and the story says that this King Herla still holds on his mad course with his band in eternal wanderings, without stop or stay,” he goes on to say in the next breath “buuuut some people say they all jumped into the River Wye and died, so ymmv. ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ anyways, can I interest you in more Fucked Up If True tales?” (Herla throwing the dog into the river wasn’t in the original story though. I made that part up.)

Thank you so much for reading! <3

#the magnus archives #tma #tma fic #long post #tma spoilers #magnuspod

14 notes · View notes

thevoidcannotbefilled · 3 years

Note

For the weird relationships: Jon and Adelard Dekker?

TW disease, body horror, and just general S5 esque domains

“So you lived then.”

Adelard huffs, “Hardly.” Jon thinks what must be a smirk creeps up on his face. The melted flesh twitches at the etch of his lips. It could just be a spasm. “Would you call any of this living?”

“True,” Jon says, as he eyes the toxic lands around them. In the distance, he sees Martin carefully making sure he doesn’t stand near the pools of puss bubbling from the ground. It’s not much use here to stay clean. The air is thick with smogs of disease, and if he were anyone else Jon Knows his lungs would have crumbled from within seconds he took a breath. There is nothing here but endless misery and the promise of everything that could kill you but nothing that would deal the finishing blow.

And here sat its Watcher, the man who survived all evil and let himself be untouched. Left in a city of unending disease, Adelard took his final breaths. Again and again and again.

Until the Change. Now, Adelard sits and he watches, melted to a throne of rot.

Jon’s gaze returns to Adelard and there’s no humor left on in him, face or eyes. The air is vacant between them, “Then you survived,” Jon says softly.

Adelard does not laugh this time. Instead, he stares dully and says, exhaustion hanging on every word as heavy as his skin, “Surviving is a word for it. Is that what you’re doing?”

“Unfortunately, for me, it’s a bit more than that.” Before Jon loses his nerves, he blurts out, “I’m sorry, for turning you into this.”

Adelard blinks. “Sorry?”

“For turning you into a monster. You never wanted that, more than anyone else, you wanted to do away from all this, and I took that from you.” Jon doesn’t take a breath; it would burn as much as the words. But he meets Adelard’s eyes and he says with much sincerity as he’s able, “I’m sorry.”

Jon expects a lot of things. To be yelled at again. Perhaps to be threatened and pushed away.

“I can’t forgive you,” Adelard says after a few moments.

And that’s one of expected responses.

Jon’s mouth is dry for reasons other than the toxic air. He nods. “Of course.”

“I can’t forgive you because I can’t give you the absolution you desire. Don’t interrupt,” Adelard adds when he sees Jon to speak. Jon shuts his mouth, and to his surprise, the old hunter snorts, “I can’t believe you replaced Gertrude.”

“To be fair, I was put there to be a pawn, not Gertrude’s replacement.”

“And now at the end, you’re kinged.”

“That’s checkers.”

“Fine, then a queen if you prefer.”

“Sure. Queened. Or rooked. Or bishoped. Anything but a king would have worked.”

“...I see why you have so many scars.” Adelard notes, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “Queen, pawn, bishop. That doesn’t change your role in this, does it?”

Archivist. The title goes unsaid, but is heavy in the air just the same. Adelard hasn’t called him that just yet. Jon doesn’t know if the older man wants to give him that title yet, or if the name is burned onto Gertrude in his mind. Maybe, he wants to give Jon the choice to be something else for once.

“No,” Jon admits, “But I will do what I can anyway.”

“Good.” Adelard pauses. “Can you fix this?”

“You would only be suffering more.”

Adelard’s fingers twitch. “Not me. The world.”

Jon doesn’t say that if the world is fixed Adelard is likely to die. Almost certainly, actually. The old man long since has come to terms with his own death. Saving the world would finally give him his long sought peace.

Jon meets his gaze. Adelard’s browns eyes look far more focused now. “We don’t know.”

“Fine,” Adelard huffs. “Are you trying to fix this?”

“With everything we can.”

“Then find your absolution in that.”

“Even if it’s fruitless.” It’s not a question. Jon knows and Knows this man, how the years he fought these terrors. A crisis of faith and several monsters later, Adelard moved one by one, knowing that there would be another evil to take the last one’s place, and not giving a damn anyway.

No, Adelard did understand that his actions would probably not amount to too much. But that wasn’t the point.

For the first time in many years, Adelard manages to grin. “Yes, especially then,” he says through teeth full of rot. And the smile grows the tiniest bit wider. “Belief is powerful, Jon, may it be with God or not. And I have faith in you to fix this. Because for better or for worse, you’re the only one who can, and I will not believe this is our ending. Not like this. Not in this rotten world.

“We will live to see a tomorrow and the day this throne takes my final breaths.”

#ask the void #weird relationship prompts #disease #body horror #tma #the magnus archives #tma s5 #tma au #long post #Adelard Dekker #Jonathan sims #the amazing written word #not sure about my adelard characterization but I like this #thank you!!#bare1ythere

69 notes · View notes

soveryanon · 3 years

Text

Reviewing time for MAG197!

- I like how Basira and Jon immediately installed the setting (“Watch your step…! Long way down.” “It’s fine. The stickiness helps.”): big hole and strands of webs everywhere, funnel full of tapes going far down below, tapes probably unrolled a bit themselves, many tape recorders squeaking voices now and then and occasionally rewinding.

(I’m especially fond of the selected fragments of voice heard at the end of last episode and the tapes rewinds in this one, because it felt like a call-back to the beginning of the season, when Jon was obsessively relistening to the tapes that had been sent to him: stopping and rewinding and listening, again and again, to the fragment of Gertrude’s voice when she was telling Gerry she didn’t think it was possible to reverse an apocalypse.)

- I love that Jon&Basira are on good enough terms to share their shitty sense of humour with each other!! ;w;

(MAG197) BASIRA: Feeling better now, are we? Without those horrible sunny skies and fresh winds? ARCHIVIST: Yes, the colossal web stretching down into an endless pit is a significant improvement. BASIRA: [CHUCKLING] Don’t pretend like you’re joking.

Compared to season 4, it doesn’t sound mean-spirited anymore coming from Basira…

I also like that, same as them helping each other out on the lake in MAG195, we could hear that it was a mutual exchange – Basira ensuring that Jon wouldn’t fall into the hole by grounding him when he was getting too fascinated by it, Jon warning her about the threads. Jon was even counting on Basira to be an element of surprise, so it really felt like he indeed valued her as an ally ;_;

- I wonder if Jon looked into Martin’s head for that one, or if it’s how Martin looked like from the outside?

(MAG197) BASIRA: I’m guessing she’s waiting at the centre? ARCHIVIST: Naturally. [STATIC RISES] They both are. Martin is… he’s okay. He’s… scared, but also… frustrated.

Jon had promised to not look as long as he wasn’t in physical danger (which was precisely the case here) so…

I like how Jon pointed out that Martin was “scared”: from his exchange with Annabelle, he sounded mostly pissed, annoyed, frustrated indeed rather than afraid; he knows how to hide it!

- Jon’s fascination with the pit…

(MAG195) ARCHIVIST: No, it’s… I could look at it, but it… it was… it was like a… a hole. You know that feeling you get when you look down from a, a great height, like you’re being… pulled into the abyss? BASIRA: Kind of? ARCHIVIST: [GETTING LOST IN THOUGHT] Well, it was… was like that. Normally… I can see it, see the… webs, and feel the power of The Spider emanating from it, but… as I would look, i–i… it’s like… my mind…. follows the paths of The Web… [STATIC RISES] the strands going down and… out… [CATCHING SELF] I–it’s… [STATIC FADES] quite disorientating…!

(MAG197) ARCHIVIST: I know she has something to tell me and it… it’s about… the hole below us, her thoughts are… all down there, and… [TAPE SQUEAL] [STATIC INCREASES] And the threads are so closely woven, I–I follow them out and… in, and down, and through the strands of web and twisting tape, and down, and down, and down into the chasm into the emptiness that stretches– BASIRA: Woah! ARCHIVIST: –out– BASIRA: Woah! ARCHIVIST: –below– BASIRA: Careful! ARCHIVIST: Oh! [ARCHIVIST LOSES BALANCE BUT BASIRA STEADIES HIM] [STATIC FADES] BASIRA: Careful. ARCHIVIST: [DEEP BREATHS] … Thanks. There’s a–, sorry, there’s a s–sort of… pull to it. BASIRA: [SIGH] ARCHIVIST: Every time I get a glimpse, it, it draws me in…

… might be caused by Beholding? What is below is a complete mystery and, as Annabelle pointed out later, it probably led to many worlds (so far) untouched by the Fears: Jon’s appel du vide might as well be Beholding attracted to what is not (yet) under its dominion.

- I’m curious about the fact that Jon wasn’t able to categorically say what was the tapes’ deal:

* On the one hand, his difficulty to tell what they are does explain why he couldn’t say they were Web until now. On the other hand… there is still that nagging doubt that there could also be something else, due to Jon’s inability to confirm even now. What would happen if Jon looked at a tape not holding his voice at all, like one with Martin’s?

* Basira’s assumption had been shot down starting with MAG114 (when Jon had pointed out to Tim that he didn’t think the tapes were from Beholding) and once again reminded by Martin in MAG170 (when Martin had a moment of clarity in the Lonely house, having him point out that Beholding had “won” and so didn’t need tapes to see what was happening to them)… but I like that Basira had her own ideas about them until now, linking them to the Institute’s motto.

* I like Basira’s reminder that the tapes didn’t only record Jon’s voice, but that she was also “used” in the same way…

- I love the contrast with Jon&Basira now compared to, say, their expedition in Svalbard in season 4:

(MAG197) BASIRA: Different question, then. How do we play this one? ARCHIVIST: You get Martin to safety, then I deal with Annabelle Cane. BASIRA: Right. … I think we should hear her out first. ARCHIVIST: Excuse me? BASIRA: Before you “deal with her”, we should try to get some answers. All of this, taking Martin… she wants to talk.

Back then, Basira was the one with the gun; now, Jon is quite clearly the powerhouse… but also grounded by Basira, who remained level-headed and tried to think about why Annabelle had done things in that way, what she wanted. And at the same time: Jon had reasons to be pissed, wary and distrustful – in his own perspective, Annabelle could have talked when they were at Upton House, and welcoming him in front of Hill Top Road with Mr. Spider’s tape was clearly a low blow, already colouring this encounter with a certain dynamic (the underlying idea that The Web had touched him as a kid, was inviting him in the house to devour him, and could violate Jon’s privacy whenever it wanted).

- Jon’s fear of The Web showed once again…

(MAG150) ARCHIVIST: Melanie, could you… could you describe your therapist for me? MELANIE: [CHUCKLING] What? You think I wouldn’t notice if she had cobwebs down her face? ARCHIVIST: … No? MELANIE: [DEEP INHALE] That’s it, isn’t it? [EXHALE] You… you really think I’m so stupid I wouldn’t have noticed if my therapist was some kind of monster! ARCHIVIST: I just… It was a worry. […] It’s just… The Web can be subtle, you understand? MELANIE: And? For all you know, its plan is to paralyse you with indecision…! ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] MELANIE: Leaving you… sitting here, terrified that… everything you do is somehow all part of its Grand Plan… And who do you think that fear is gonna feed? ARCHIVIST: Yes, well. [INHALE] You are… not the first, to make that point.

(MAG167) MARTIN: You said you could control it now. ARCHIVIST: I can, I–I just… It… [INHALE] You’re absolutely right. I will refrain from knowing anything about you. […] Did you… feel like she was… influencing your mind at all? MARTIN: I don’t think so, but I mean… who knows? ARCHIVIST: I could. MARTIN: But look. She didn’t control me into asking you not to look into my head, if that’s what you’re thinking. That’s all me. ARCHIVIST: Martin, I’m not… looking for a l–loophole. MARTIN: Well, good! ‘cause this isn’t one. [SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: … Methinks the Spider doth protest too much…!

(MAG172) ARCHIVIST: I was going to suggest that… I could… maybe… “know”. I could look. Just a quick peek, to, to see if it was just curiosity, or… something else. … Well? MARTIN: I don’t… If you look, and I was… “influenced”, then how can I trust anything else? How can I believe any of my thoughts and feelings are really mine? ARCHIVIST: U–uh, well… I–I–I’ll still be here to check, I–I’m not leaving you. MARTIN: Sure, but you’d be looking through the details of everything that ever crosses my mind? I don’t want that! Y–you know I don’t want that. ARCHIVIST: … I know. [SILENCE] … Don’t do this to yourself, Martin. This is what it wants, the, the paranoia. [SIGH] Trust me, I, I know. MARTIN: … Fair.

(MAG197) ARCHIVIST: She’s had plenty of chances. She didn’t need to kidnap him. BASIRA: Sure, but maybe she… What? What’s with the look? ARCHIVIST: How are you feeling, Basira? BASIRA: [SHARPLY] Do you want to look inside my head? See if it’s full of spiders? ARCHIVIST: I… No. I’m… sorry, I–I trust you. BASIRA: How are you feeling? ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] Yes, all right, you don’t need to make a point. BASIRA: Yes I do. You’re too close to this, and I need to make sure you aren’t going to do anything dumb. Situation like this, we can’t make rash assumptions. Right? ARCHIVIST: … Right.

I like (in a heart-breaking way) how Jon’s tendency to suspect that people might be affected by The Web has been so prevalent, and shows how deeply his childhood encounter affected him. When people behave in a way he didn’t expect or for reasons he cannot immediately understand, he’s very quick to blame The Web – it’s not coming out of nowhere, since there were statements about The Web pulling strings and getting people to do things they didn’t want to do… but it also goes in the way of Jon’s decision to trust people. I like that Basira immediately understood what Jon suspected and set things straight in that regard; Martin might be Jon’s “reason”, but other people have been really good at grounding him lately, too.

- BASIRA SEES MARTIN AS A FRIEND ;w; It used to be Martin clinging to the idea…

(MAG175) MARTIN: I–I know what you meant! I can still be keen to see our friends! ARCHIVIST: … True. MARTIN: Besides, we can help them now.

(MAG176) MARTIN: And the fact that we’re hunting our friend, in a domain of The Hunt isn’t getting to you at all? Not even a little bit? [TRILL OF A BIRD] Hm? […] BASIRA: What’s something only Martin would know? MARTIN: … What?! I don’t know! BASIRA: Fine! Then… [COCKED GUN] MARTIN: No–no–no–no–no–no, wait–wait, uh, I, God, I don’t know, we’ve never hung out much! I’ve no idea what you know about me!

… and having to admit that no, they didn’t know each other much. But now, look at Basira being concerned and protective of him ;w;

(MAG197) ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] But if she hurts Martin, all bets are off. BASIRA: If she hurts Martin, I’ll be right there with you. […] Martin, are you okay? MARTIN: [MUFFLED MMHMM] BASIRA: You know, we’d probably be more willing to listen if you hadn’t kidnapped our friend?

Martin got friends………

- I wasn’t able to parse which segments there were, but I could clearly hear Jon’s and Martin’s voices playing in the background tapes when we switched to Annabelle!

I did need the transcript’s indication that Martin was tied to the chair to realise that… indeed, we hadn’t heard him get up last episode. It had creaked plenty when he had sat last episode, it would have creaked if he had had the time to get up. Congrats Martin, you spent an episode and a half sitting, this time around!

- Martin likes Jon’s voice!!

(MAG197) ANNABELLE: I thought you liked his voice? MARTIN: I do when it’s his voice. I’ve never liked the statements. It always felt… Yeah. ANNABELLE: Well… you can trust me when I say you’ll be hearing his real voice very soon.

That’s an adorable little detail <3

- I love how Martin was such a bitch with Annabelle, at the same time very honest (pointing out that his situation didn’t make it easy to get relaxed, that he was afraid about the trap set for Jon, that he had already been told about dream-logic elements, that he was second-guessing what Annabelle wanted out of this) and blowing up in annoyance.

(MAG197) ANNABELLE: [CHUCKLE] On edge, are we? MARTIN: Of course, I am! You’ve stuck me in a weird interdimensional web, and threatened to fill me with spiders! ANNABELLE: No…! I said I had “considered” filling you with spiders. MARTIN: Yeah, whatever, the point is, there was a time when it was very much your go-to option! And this one time I chose to almost trust you, you’ve immediately turned around and used me as bait!

I loved how his voice SQUEAKED with that “spiders”. Resent and remember.

Also, games, in that apocalypse?

(MGA180) MARTIN: … I–I’ll start. I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with… T– ARCHIVIST: Tombs. MARTIN: … Cheater. ARCHIVIST: [INDIGNANT] I did not! MARTIN: … Your turn. [BAG JOSTLING] ARCHIVIST: Fine. I spy, with my little eye… Literally everything. [MARTIN LAUGHS] [THE ARCHIVIST LAUGHS] [A NEARBY TOMB LAUGHS] [LAUGHTER STOPS WITH TENSE SIGHS]

(MAG197) ANNABELLE: We could play a game? MARTIN: Uhhh… [SIGH] ANNABELLE: Twenty questions? Animal, vegetable or mineral? MARTIN: [SIGH] Animal. Does it have eight legs? Yes. Is it a spider? Yes. Oh, look, I win.

Never quite working.

- I loved Annabelle’s back-and-forth regarding Martin’s potential for The Web: at first saying that he could have been a good fit for it, then that no, he’s too impatient, then that ah, maybe his talent for interpreting the vibrations meant that he had something in him. It’s everything and its contrary, and it allows her to… always be right.

(But it cracks me up so much that the argument for anti-Web Martin basically came down to Martin being too ranty and impatient. I love Martin.)

- Sob about the set-up because:

(MAG197) ANNABELLE: … You don’t need to worry about Jon. MARTIN: You’re literally luring him into a trap. This trap. This one right here! [MARTIN MOTIONS AND TWANGS THE WEB, SETTING OFF STRONG REVERBERATIONS] ANNABELLE: Please don’t do that. Technically… yes. This is a trap. But the only one in actual danger is going to be me. If he chooses to kill me, I can’t stop him. Not even here. And you’re not bait, you’re just… an invitation.

Yeah, sure, an “invitation” when you’ve put the Mr. Spider tape right near the house to welcome Jon is an absolutely neutral and mundane “invitation”. It’s not flexing or trying to traumatise your guest even before he entered the house.

- Annabelle, PLEASE.

* Things that are absolutely horrifying regarding The Web: the way it often targeted children. Mr. Spider was a picture book and got into Jon’s hands when he was eight (and given how Jon initially thought that the book was “insulting” his intelligence… it might have preyed upon even younger children if left unchecked). Annabelle had described her own Web encounter as a kid. Ray was taking care of children and preparing them for his god.

* It also tied nicely with another leitmotiv with The Web: the fact that it is invested in performances and artistic displays (a movie in MAG110, Neil Lagorio’s own original cuts and his last wish of dancing in MAG136, Francis’s theatre play in MAG172) – Annabelle was all about this, making various references to the fact that she was staging the whole scene.

* That “These things rarely do” reminds me of what she had mentioned last episode, that “You can’t be precious about a single strand”: how many discarded plans and ideas have there been to ensure that she would be right and/or that she would get her pieces where and when she needed? It’s not that The Web feels infallible – it’s that it seems to multiply its efforts to make sure that at least one would work out.

- I got the impression that Martin feeling that Jon and Basira were coming happened at the same time as Basira brushing the strands early on, hence Jon’s comment over it:

(MAG197) [BASIRA BRUSHES AGAINST A STRAND WHICH THRUMS AND ECHOES, AND THE CADENCE OF BUZZING SOUNDS CHANGE AS TAPE SQUEALS WITH THE REVERBERATIONS] BASIRA: Sorry…! ARCHIVIST: … It’s okay. She already knew I was here, I just… I hoped we might be able to sneak you in. […] MARTIN: W–, yeah, well– [CHITTERING, BUZZING AND TAPE SQUEALS CHANGE CADENCE] Wait… Wait, hang on… is that him? ANNABELLE: Yes! I guess you’re better with The Web than we thought. MARTIN: And… Wait, ha–, no, uh… Is that… Basira? He–he’s got Basira with him! ANNABELLE: Yes. I did wonder if that would be the case. Interesting. And unfortunate for me. That’s two heads we’ll need to keep cool. My odds aren’t looking good.

So it gave us a nice perspective on who was talking about what when!

I’m surprised that Annabelle indeed only discovered it at that moment – meaning that if Basira hadn’t touched the threads, she wouldn’t have known she was there… although she had been recorded more than once since Jon had left London. Web is not omniscient, uh.

- Annabelle’s taste for theatrics was hilarious, and Martin sarcastically following her request by trying out postures of the Main Love Interest In Distress And Held Hostage was incredible. Martin, PLEASE.

(I wonder if she spat in his mouth, to gag him? Where did that thread come from.)

- It still amuses me how dry Jon can sound in front of avatars, while he’s way more emotional (soft, annoyed, amused, desperate sometimes) in front of Martin! He really adapts his presence to the people in front of him, in this new world.

- Love how Basira pointed out that Jon shouldn’t do anything rash… and then he immediately went for a smiting attempt when he saw that Martin was positioned in a dangerous and precarious situation.

- Jon’s new “Fuck” means that he’s now The Biggest Sayer Of Fuck in the series!

(MAG154) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] [SOFTLY BUT WITH FEELING] … Fuck.

(MAG158) DAISY: Oh, shit! ARCHIVIST: You gotta be fucking kidding m–

(MAG166) ARCHIVIST: Yes! Ashamed of the fact that I… destroyed the world and have been rewarded for it; the fact that… I can walk safe through all this horror I’ve created like a fucking tourist, destroying whoever I please; the fact that I… enjoyed it, and… the fact that there are… so many others, that I still want to revenge myself on! [EXHALE]

(MAG197) ARCHIVIST: “Free will,” she says, as we stand in the middle of her fucking web!

Martin (MAG154), Melanie (MAG131) and the Inspector (MAG185) are at 1; Trevor was at 2 (MAG176); Tim was at 3 (MAG065, MAG080, MAG104); Basira is at 3 (MAG148, MAG177, MAG178)… and now Jon takes the lead with four ;w; Who would have thought, when listening to episode 1!

(If taking “shit” into account: Martin explodes the counter because of his litanies in MAG163 and MAG179.)

- Oh Martin…

(MAG197) ANNABELLE: He came of his own free will. MARTIN: [MUFFLED POINT OF CONTENTION] ARCHIVIST: “Free will,” she says, as we stand in the middle of her fucking web! ANNABELLE: [LAUGH] A fair point! But that’s a debate for another time. I simply mean I did not bring him here through force, threat or false pretence. I made an offer, and he agreed. ARCHIVIST: Martin, is this true? [TAPE SQUEALS] MARTIN: [MUFFLED ATTEMPTED EXPLANATION, FOLLOWED BY MUFFLED SIGH AND MUFFLED AGREEMENT] BASIRA: Told you. ARCHIVIST: We’ll talk about it later. Once you’re safe.

I love how we could indeed tell his emotions at the moment, at first objecting, then slowly having to concede.

There is still a tiny possibility that Annabelle still pulled a string and made Martin keener to follow her, but I don’t feel like that would be necessary – the point was that he was out of options, that Annabelle had dangled the fact that she had one, and offered to give it while simultaneously threatening to not ever share it if Martin didn’t immediately come with her (as it was explained last episode). Of course, in retrospect, it sounds like Annabelle/The Web needs them more than they need it… but the point was that Martin was lacking options, that Jon was seriously thinking about replacing Jonah as Beholding’s pupil the last time they had talked (which would have meant: for Martin, still being stuck as a Watcher, so still planning to die rather than feeding on people’s suffering), and that Martin is “as bad” as Jon when it comes to self-sacrifice, as Also!Martin had pointed out. I like that Basira had been able to guess that Martin had probably made the choice to follow Annabelle, while Jon… apparently stayed stuck to his perception of The Web as a big manipulator which compels and forces people to do things all the time, without taking detours or subtler approaches.

- Regarding Annabelle’s “lesson” on the Fears, I like how it began on familiar territories, since it roughly followed Gertrude’s own perception of the Fears:

(MAG197) ARCHIVIST: … Fine. Speak your piece. Tell us about your… “way out”. ANNABELLE: As you wish. … The Great Fears, do you believe they think the way we do? ARCHIVIST: They don’t “think” at all. They just are. ANNABELLE: Almost true. In truth, it depends on the Fear. [TAPE SQUEALS] Some exist in an eternal moment, some make use of memory to reflect and corrupt, but for most, time is simply another thing for them to play with. To consider the future, to plan, is not something they’re capable of. ARCHIVIST: But not The Web? ANNABELLE: No. Not the Mother-of-Puppets, the Spinner-of-Schemes. BASIRA: Hang on. What about the rituals? Those were plans. ARCHIVIST: No. [INHALE] They were… desires, filtered and interpreted by people and the thinking creatures that they spawned. ANNABELLE: You are well informed, aren’t you? Exactly this.

(MAG145) ARTHUR: You never had to second-guess a god. ‘Cause that’s what it comes down to, isn’t it? We feel Its joy and Its… anger; It warps us, and changes us, and feeds on us, though not in the ways we expect. The one thing It never does is just… tell us what to do. It seeds us with this… aching, impossible desire to change the world, to bring It to us. Then, It leaves us to guess and bicker and fight over how the hell you can actually do it. … If it’s possible. Sometimes, I think They understand us as… little as we understand Them. We don’t think like They do. GERTRUDE: I’m not actually convinced they “think” at all. ARTHUR: You might be right. But Agnes did.

The idea that avatars had no clear idea about what they were doing had been confirmed by Simon in MAG151, so that wasn’t new. It did colour all of Annabelle’s speech, however, since she argued that The Web was different due to its own way of functioning and she was judge and party in that regard – isn’t she precisely projecting what she thinks The Web is to give it intention, when it’s perfectly possible that “The Web’s plan” might have been mostly inherited through its agents throughout history?

- Confirmation that Oliver might have said the truth in MAG168 about the fact that The End’s domains ultimately had to deliver a genuine death (or, well: confirmation that Jon was convinced that it was saying the truth). And Basira hadn’t been there back then, hence why she needed a bit more information:

(MAG169) ARCHIVIST: “When Danika Gelsthorpe reaches the end of her Corpse Root, she will die. This new world of Fear reviles death as a release, but the Coming End cannot exist without its reality. It is not a being of dangled promises and shifting torments; the certainty of death waits for all who travel the Corpse Roots, and that certainty… will be delivered on, without hesitation or consideration of any other factors. […] The others may take what actions they wish; they may plot and plan and tear themselves apart in an attempt to separate from the fate that they know they cannot escape; but they will fail. The currents of perception and reality may twist in whatever shapes they want; but none of them can ever render things truly eternal. […] I am too much of my patron now and my feelings cannot help but reflect the shadows of… anticipation that lurk within the grave. The End does not fear its own cessation, for it is the certainty and promise of all life, however strange, that it will one day finish, and that includes its own stark existence. […] All – things – end, and every step you take, whatever direction you may choose… only brings you closer to it.”

(MAG197) ANNABELLE: But only two of them could truly conceive of such. Terminus, The End, knows that in such a world they will ultimately consume themselves. And it desires that finality. ARCHIVIST: [REALISING] And The Web understands it as well. That eventually a successful ritual would doom them all. Leave them trapped and starving in a used-up world with no-one to feed on. BASIRA: Hang on, what? This is news to me. ARCHIVIST: We passed a death domain, of The End. The victims there do actually die, meaning even though it would take… I don’t know how long, eventually The End will claim everyone and everything. It’s inevitable.

Damnit, it means that Peter had kiiiiind of been right in season 4 when he had explained to Martin that The Web and The End didn’t appear interested in trying to achieve their rituals:

(MAG134) PETER: There are two Powers that, to my knowledge, have never attempted to fully manifest, never had followers set them up for a ritual: Mother-of-Puppets, and Terminus. The Web, and The End. The Web, I’ve never really been sure about: if I were to guess, I would say it actually prefers the world as is, playing everyone against each other, and so on. The End, on the other hand… The End doesn’t really need one: it knows that it gets everything eventually, so why bother. The End manifesting would not be a new world of terror; it would be a lifeless world. Devoid of everything. MARTIN: … Including fear.

The End was indeed fine with anything, while The Web indeed preferred the world as is – because it had an inkling that rituals would lead to the Fears’ own annihilation. Given how Annabelle pointed out how the escape route had been worked on for so long, I wonder if it had really understood that a successful ritual needed to bring all the Fears into the world a long time ago… or if not at all, and it was, until then, planning an escape in case any of the Fears were to succeed on its own.

- Web!Jonah, Web!Jonah, Web!Jonah.

(MAG197) ANNABELLE: And knowing this, knowing for centuries you would eventually be trapped, doomed to starvation, what would you do? [LONG CONSIDERED PAUSE] ARCHIVIST: … Plan an escape. ANNABELLE: Just so. […] ARCHIVIST: So The Web, it wants to spread? To escape into new realities? ANNABELLE: Yes. But not alone. Any attempt to separate the Fears is ultimately doomed, as you well know.

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Why does a man seek to destroy the world? It’s a simple enough answer: for immortality, and power. Uninspired, perhaps, but – my God! The discovery, not simply of the dark and horrible reality of the world in which you live, but that you would quite willingly doom that world and confine the billions in it to an eternity of terror and suffering, all to ensure your own happiness; to place yourself beyond pain, and death, and fear. […] I am to be a king of a ruined world, and I shall never die. […] Beyond that, I was getting older, and mortality began to weigh more heavily on my mind. How much in this world is done because we fear death, the last and greatest terror?”

The way Annabelle presented it, The Web shared the same logic as Jonah and took the same horrible decision about it: desiring self-preservation, fearing their own end, fearing that others would doom them… and instead of taking active measures to ensure that no doom would happen, they chose to cause it themselves to be in control of it. Jonah could have gone on spending many more centuries body-hopping once he understood that other rituals would never work anyway, but he chose to work on this ritual thinking it would grant him domination and control over the result; and likewise, The Web could have worked to ensure no Jonah-like person would cause the big ritual… but chose instead to actively help him, to cause the apocalypse, thus dooming itself if Jon doesn’t help to make them hop into another world to contaminate it. Same fear of death, same thirst for control, same selfish thought process.

As mentioned above: given how Annabelle might have selected her information, I wonder if The Web had known for a long while that individual rituals wouldn’t work, or if it had discovered that fairly recently, alongside Jonah. It’s possible that the escape route had initially been planned for The Web itself and solely itself in case one of the other Fears succeeded, then The Web discovered that the Dread Powers couldn’t be separated and slightly changed its plan by accepting that all the Fears would need to be yeeted into the passage together?

- I can’t believe we now can answer “What does the Spider want?!”.

It does explain why The Web seemed to ensure Jon’s survival and support Jonah’s plan (Jonah even acknowledged the latter in his letter), and why Annabelle still wanted something out of Jon&Martin although the apocalypse had already happened. It also answered Jon’s own question from the trailer about the tape recorder:

(Season 5 trailer) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] … What? What do you want? … The world is…! It’s over. You’ve won. What can you possibly still need to hear?

His question had even been followed by a “knock-knock” joke. It really felt like a Mr. Spider reference.

Regarding the tapes: it was indeed right to link them to The Web! I remember that pre-season 4, upon listening to the series for the first time, I was convinced that they were Web, but I had begun to doubt in season 4 because of a potential slight nuance: The Web was using the tapes, it didn’t necessarily mean that it was the thing listening behind the tape recorder. What I did not expect, and am delighted about, is that The Web required the tapes to exist as a hook for its plans:

(MAG197) ANNABELLE: We found the one we believed most likely to bring about their manifestation. We marked him young, guided his path as best we could. And then, we took his voice. ARCHIVIST: No… ANNABELLE: His, and those he walked with. We inscribed them on shining strands of word and meaning, and used them to weave a web which cast itself out through the gate and beyond our universe. So that when the Fears heard that voice, and came in their terrible glory, they might then travel out along it. [TAPE SQUEALS] Or be dragged. BASIRA: Is she talking about the tapes? ARCHIVIST: Yes. […] Do both at the same time, and… for just a moment, all that power rushes through their only remaining connection with reality: the tapes. ANNABELLE: And they would be swept along by it, dragged out of our realities, and into new ones…

And now I wonder about the reasons why the statements didn’t work on Jon’s computer in (and before) season 1, leading him to use the tape recorders. It had been pointed out in MAG065 that tapes were technically digital too, that the difference between a computer and a tape recorder wasn’t a matter of analogue vs. digital, so why did the statements resist computer recording? With the new information: it might have been simply that The Web was making Jon’s computer crash to push him to find another solution for his recordings – Jon indeed ended up relying on the tape recorder (found covered in cobwebs; spotted by Tim first according to the TMA liveshow, and then found back by Sasha according to MAG162’s tape).

Did The Web mostly require a story for their plan? The statements contain bits of Fears, some of Jon&co’s encounters were supernatural, but not everything that was caught on tapes was dealing with fear – we’ve had very mundane exchanges and conversations that did not contain anything supernatural. It, of course, asks the question of whether an audience in-universe is listening to the tapes that have been reordered chronologically: have the tapes already been sent into another world, with or without the Fears coming with them? The current labels on episodes are presented as “Case ########–xx”, a sign that time is not as reliable but that there is still a chronological and logical progression to follow. I wonder if the last episode will go back to having a date-based file number like episodes used to have (MAG160’s, “Case #0181810”, being the last one).

- The problem with Archivists really is their voices, uh? Gertrude and Jon both needed to read the statements aloud to feed Beholding, and the Black Forest tomb had the “For The Silence” coin. I’m a bit curious about whether the Fears would truly follow the tapes because they contain Jon’s voice… if Jon, with that original voice, is staying behind? Wouldn’t he need to go with the tapes, or to be deprived of his voice, for that plan to work?

- Annabelle’s offer was a bit more complex than redirecting their full apocalypse to another world, which I feared, instead presenting it as another world being subjected to this one’s previous and less intense fate… but I’m extremely glad that Jon immediately pointed out that it would likely mean a complete repeat of what their own world had experienced, apocalypse included eventually:

(MAG197) BASIRA: What are you saying? ARCHIVIST: … We can pass them our apocalypse. MARTIN: [MUFFLED DISCOMFITED REALISATION] ANNABELLE: Nothing so extreme. In these new worlds, they would exist as they used to in ours, lurking just beyond the threshold. ARCHIVIST: Until someone is stupid enough to release them there as well. ANNABELLE: Perhaps. Even the Mother cannot see the future. Only try to shape it. ARCHIVIST: And so they spread through realities like a disease. ANNABELLE: Perhaps. ARCHIVIST: … I won’t do it.

Jon even kept using the verb “spread” (“So The Web, it wants to spread?”, “for the Fears to spread into these new worlds”, “And so they spread through realities like a disease”) which really highlighted what it was: not a trade-off, not an equivalent exchange, but really allowing the Fears to possibly impact many other worlds to save theirs, causing way more victims in the process.

I like how it also put another perspective on the Mr. Spider tape welcoming Jon at the end of MAG195, ending with the “MR. SPIDER WANTS MORE”: in the same way, The Web is precisely trying to get more than what it used to have (from affecting one world to potentially hurting many more).

- I am curious about what would individually happen to avatars with that plan:

(MAG197) BASIRA: What happens to you if they escape? What happens to us? We’ve all been touched by them. ANNABELLE: I would either travel with them, or I would die. I do not know which. My life is only sustained by The Web. Most would simply lose whatever power they have been gifted. Jon would lose much of himself, the parts of him that are The Eye. But he would survive. And perhaps, more importantly, he would remain who he believes himself to be.

Would Simon turn to dust due to his old age? Would Arthur become inanimate wax? Would Oliver die (since he already died once)? Or would they be simply left in their current body? Annabelle is indeed a special case since it was pointed out many times that her head never healed from the injury during the experiments (MAG069) and is stitched with cobwebs – it’s possible that her “life is only sustained by The Web” in a strictly literal life-support manner, unrelated to her avatar status.

… I’m concerned about many caveats regarding Jon: Annabelle, what is your definition of “survive”? And what does Jon “believe himself to be” at this point? Jon had pointed out that he was intrinsically tied to Beholding by now, and that he doubted that Beholding leaving this world would mean good things for him:

(MAG191) MARTIN: Jon. If… When we defeat The Eye, the Fears… What happens to you? [SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: Nothing good. I think it depends on what actually happens. If we figure out a way to defeat them, banish them somehow, kick them out of our reality and back to where they came from, I might… survive? I think I’d stay more or less like this; w–weaker, but fundamentally… still an avatar in a world where the Fears are… once again lurking on the edges. MARTIN: … But I assume that’s the best case scenario? ARCHIVIST: Depends on your point of view, I guess. In the long term all we’d have done is… bought some more time. … If, however, we… find a way to destroy or, uh… eliminate the Powers… I’m not going to be okay. There’s… too much of me that’s part of The Eye now. I don’t… know what would be left of me without it. Maybe I just… die. Maybe I survive, but I–I lose… something. My identity? My mind? My… memories? I don’t know.

Which is making me suspicious of what Annabelle is saying, since she seems to go in the exact same direction as what Jon thought might happen to him in the “best” case scenario of the Fears disappearing but him not dying right away.

- Alright, it does clear up what I didn’t understand in Annabelle’s previous plan regarding Jon&Martin’s relationship, and the reason why she discarded it!

(MAG196) MARTIN: Okay, let’s try a different question. What was your plan? ANNABELLE: I was going to snatch you away. Lure you both into this web, and then take you. Drive him to despair, so that when you returned to him, bulging and talking in a thousand tiny voices, it would drive him to a final push. MARTIN: … And now? ANNABELLE: [SIGH] Your bond is too complicated. I couldn’t drive that kind of rift between you now. I’ve considered every angle, examined every cause and effect, and have finally come to the conclusion that I… [SIGH] I need to tell you the truth. To explain things.

She might have initially planned to pressure Jon to go along with her plan by spider-ing Martin, since it would have meant saving him once the Powers would have left (instead of it being a permanent process). However, their “bond is too complicated” for that plan now because they talked and made a promise about not dooming the world in exchange for the other’s safety:

(MAG191) ARCHIVIST: Martin, when the time comes, I need you to promise me that you won’t try to stop me. MARTIN: … I promise. I love you, Jon. ARCHIVIST: [FOND HUFF] I love you too. MARTIN: But I’m not going to doom the world over it. ARCHIVIST: … Thank you. MARTIN: [INHALE] And you have to promise me that you’re going to do everything in your power to live. That you’re not going to… sacrifice yourself at the first opportunity, just because you feel guilty about what happened. ARCHIVIST: [BREATH] … I promise.

(… Well. Martin had promised to not doom the world over Jon. Jon himself had not done the same.)

It might be what caused Annabelle to change plans: before, she might have thought that Jon would have done anything to save Martin, including throwing the Fears into other worlds without any hesitation; but since that conversation, she might have been fearing that Jon would have refused to doom other worlds for the sake of Martin’s well-being.

- Although Jon apparently immediately interpreted it as Basira being likely to go Annabelle’s way…

(MAG197) BASIRA: … How would we do it? ARCHIVIST: Basira! BASIRA: We need to know, Jon.

… she really felt, to me, like she was trying to get all the information they needed to be able to manoeuvre with it all afterwards. Same as at the beginning of the episode, she gave me the impression that she was trying to stay in control while ensuring Martin wouldn’t get hurt (not being too antagonistic towards Annabelle, and getting her to talk), but it didn’t sound like she was approving.

- OKAY for Annabelle’s plan:

(MAG197) ANNABELLE: It’s very simple. Destroy the Archives, and cut out The Eye’s pupil. BASIRA: [SARCASTIC] Oh, is that all? ANNABELLE: Simultaneously. MARTIN: [MUFFLED DESPONDENCY] ARCHIVIST: I see. Destroy the Panopticon, and you release its power. Kill Jonah, and you cut the connection between the Fears and the world. Do both at the same time, and… for just a moment, all that power rushes through their only remaining connection with reality: the tapes. ANNABELLE: And they would be swept along by it, dragged out of our realities, and into new ones… BASIRA: And how exactly are we supposed to destroy the Archives?

* It kind of explains why she waited for them to reach London first before making them come to Hill Top Road: they needed to see for themselves that the tunnels had been mostly insulated from the apocalypse, and what state Jonah was in. (Plus, making it sink in that no, “killing Jonah” wouldn’t solve anything, so waiting for them to be a bit more desperate for another option).

* I’m… worried about the fact that Annabelle specifically stated that they needed to destroy “the Archives” but that Jon translated it into “the Panopticon”. Is it the same thing by now? We haven’t seen the Archives when we were in London – what did the statements and documents turn into?

* … And relatedly: Jonah had introduced the idea that Jon was “the Archive”. Is it really about destroying the Panopticon, or is it about destroying Jon…

(* It also explained why Annabelle had found “reassuring” that Martin was worried about victims on their way to Hill Top Road, since her plan relied on them agreeing to throw other worlds under the bus to save these people from this world. If they didn’t care much about random victims all around here… then they would be even less likely to accept her solution.)

- It reminds me that we still haven’t been told what is Jon’s domain and what is Annabelle’s domain. Annabelle’s could be Hill Top Road, but it was never stated! As for Jon, his only indication was that Martin&him had been walking “towards it” during their first journey towards London, so it could be the Panopticon itself… but we don’t know for sure either. What happens, when you destroy someone’s domain? (We have the case of Helen-the-Distortion, who was her own domain in a way… and it seems to have destroyed it entirely in her case.)

- HECK YEAH for the gas main not being done with /o/

(MAG161) GERTRUDE: [SHARPLY] We’re wasting time. Do you still have the Ruskin book? LEITNER: I do. Though I don’t relish the thought of using it. Makes it rather hard to breathe, like your chest– GERTRUDE: You know– LEITNER: –is being… GERTRUDE: –the gas main, little way out in the tunnel? LEITNER: I do. GERTRUDE: I need you to move it. LEITNER: I, hum… That’s… I mean, that’s not just earth, there’s pipework and all sorts of– GERTRUDE: Find a way. I need it to be directly under the Institute, or… at least, closer. LEITNER: I’m more likely to rupture it and fill the place with gas. GERTRUDE: Hm! That would also be acceptable. LEITNER: Hm… I’ll do what I can. When do you need it? [RUSTLING OF CLOTHES] GERTRUDE: If my guess is right, the Church’s ritual should be collapsing at any time now, so… immediately. LEITNER: And if you’re wrong? GERTRUDE: Then a bit of gas will be the least of our worries. LEITNER: Right… What are you going to do? GERTRUDE: Paper burns well. [GURGLING LIQUID] Petrol burns… better. LEITNER: Aha! I always forget about your pyromaniac streak.

(MAG068) ARCHIVIST: Supplemental. I’m in the tunnels. I was exploring and I got lost. I haven’t gone down any of the stairs and I– I think I’m still under the Institute. There were a couple of spiders, so I changed routes and found, I think it’s a gas main. Must be for the whole building.

(MAG197) BASIRA: And how exactly are we supposed to destroy the Archives? ANNABELLE: Many years ago, a draughtsman made an unfortunate and egregious error on certain city planning documents. As a result, an unusually large and dangerous gas main just happened to be constructed directly below the building you knew as the Magnus Institute, in a place where it would be protected by the tunnels of Robert Smirke, unchanged by the world’s reformation. [TAPE SQUEALS] You need only ignite it. ARCHIVIST: “Ignite it”? ANNABELLE: Indeed! And it just so happens that the perfect tool was once delivered to you as a token of appreciation. Though you really do need to learn to keep better care of it. Somehow, it always seems to slip your mind, doesn’t it? ARCHIVIST: What…? BASIRA: Jon, it’s that stupid lighter of yours.

I had been surprised that it had been narratively brought back at the beginning of the season clarifying why it was there – Gertrude had asked Leitner to bring it closer to the Institute, which is why Jon had seen it in season 2 (… while fleeing because of spiders… in the episode right before the one he heard of Annabelle Cane for the first time…), and it was still hanging out there.

Annabelle never confirmed whether or not she had been the one who had sent tapes alongside the package containing Jonah’s statement, but it really feels like she was trying to prepare Jon to the idea of burning the Archive down, since all the tapes (and the beginning of the statement Jonah used to cover his) had mentioned fire in some way.

(MAG160) MARTIN: Still, she did manage to talk them out of burning the whole place to the ground? Oh, ah! Actually, that reminds me. Hum… [PAPER RUSTLES] ARCHIVIST: Ah! These, these are the… statements. MARTIN: Uh, yes. Basira said last week she’d send some up as soon as the Archives weren’t a crime scene. ARCHIVIST: Yes… MARTIN: And she wasn’t sure which ones you’d read already, so she–she just said she’d send a bunch. [CLATTERING SOUNDS] ARCHIVIST: There’s… tapes in here, as well. D… did she say anything about tapes? MARTIN: She… didn’t mention it? But… I–I didn’t check it until after the call. ARCHIVIST: Mm. MARTIN: I assume it’s her attempt at a… a–a “varied diet”? Eating your greens, you know? ARCHIVIST: [CHUCKLE] Probably! I’m sure it will work fine.

(MAG161) ARCHIVIST: –yes, thank you, I do hope you’re not planning to light those candles…! TIM: … Oh, goodness! [SHAKES A BOX OF MATCHES] A source of ignition? In the Archives? ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] SASHA: [CHUCKLES] TIM: Uh oh! ARCHIVIST: Tim. TIM: Oh? Woops! [A MATCH IS LIT] Sorry; my hand slipped. And again. [CRACKLE OF A BIRTHDAY CANDLE WICK] And again. And… a couple more times, here – I’m so clumsy today; that is a lot of fire! ARCHIVIST: I’m really not comfortable with– SASHA: So blow them out, then. ARCHIVIST: Oh. [FIRE CRACKLING] … Right, yeah– ELIAS: And make a wish.

(MAG161) GERTRUDE: Paper burns well. [GURGLING LIQUID] Petrol burns… better. LEITNER: Aha! I always forget about your pyromaniac streak. GERTRUDE: Mm. Remind me to tell you about Agnes, sometime…!

(MAG162) GERTRUDE: Eh! [INHALE] You can probably burn it in the back courtyard, if you’re careful. GERRY: Yeah, will do! GERTRUDE: And for goodness’s sake, make sure no one sees you. The last thing we need is a letter to Elias about book-burnings. GERRY: Look, if you have somewhere better to burn these books, then– GERTRUDE: Of course, Gerard…! I just happened not to mention the network of sinister tunnels that snake beneath the Archive, where I keep all my darkest secrets…!

(MAG162) TIM: Well… Tell you what. If you get eaten alive [STAPLING] by improperly filed statements? Me and Martin will avenge you. SASHA: Myeah, aren’t you sweet. TIM: I mean it! We’ll burn this place to the ground, it’ll be all like, “Sashaaa! Saaashaaaa!”

(Adding to Rosa Meyer’s attempt to burn the building in MAG060, Gertrude likely destroying the Archives under Alexandria by blowing up a gas main in MAG053…)

So: whatever Annabelle said, Jon could lend it some credence since he had seen the gas main and knows where it is; he knows why it’s so close to the Institute; he knows it used to be part of Gertrude’s plan to take down Elias/Jonah in March 2015. Whether Jon will pursue that plan or not, we know what it meant narratively, same with the lighter.

It’s also really interesting that what Annabelle offered used to be exactly Gertrude’s plan:

(MAG080) LEITNER: I believe it was Elias. ARCHIVIST: What? Why? LEITNER: I assume he discovered we were planning to destroy the Archives. ARCHIVIST: Gertrude was going to destroy the Archives?

… and it’s exactly when Elias had strike and killed her. Did a spider whisper to his ear that it was way too soon to blow up the building?

(WHICH WOULD HAVE PREVENTED THIS APOCALYPSE, BY GETTING RID OF JONAH, WHO HAD JUST UNDERSTOOD WHAT HE NEEDED TO DO TO MAKE IT HAPPEN.)

- The lighter reveal was just comedy gold, and I’m so glad that the reccurring thing with “Jon isn’t able to pay attention to the lighter and tends (/is compelled) to change the subject when it’s brought up” led to this.

(MAG037) TIM: Um, apparently Martin, uh, took delivery of a couple of items last week addressed to you. Did he not mention it? ARCHIVIST: No, he… Oh, yes, actually. I completely forgot. He said he put it in my desk draw, hold on. [SOUND OF PACKAGE BEING RETRIEVED AND OPENED] TIM: Er, what is it? ARCHIVIST: A lighter. An old Zippo. TIM: You smoke? ARCHIVIST: No. And I don’t allow ignition sources in my archive! TIM: Okay. Is there anything unusual about it? ARCHIVIST: Not really. Just a sort of spider web design on the front. Doesn’t mean anything to me. You? TIM: Ah no. No. ARCHIVIST: Well… show it to the others, see what they think.

(MAG039) SASHA: So why hasn’t it gone off? ELIAS: Because there isn’t an actual fire. SASHA: Right, right. Can we set it off manually? I think Jon’s got a lighter somewhere. ELIAS: He’s not smoking again, is he? Anyway, it shouldn’t be necessary.

(MAG079) TIM: But he’s going to do something, and it’s going to be bad. And I don’t mean like “sneaking a cigarette” bad. Like properly bad.

(MAG111) GERARD: Nice lighter. You a spider freak, then? ARCHIVIST: What? Oh! Er, n–no. I–I, I never really, uh… I never really thought of it. I–I’m Jon. I’m with the Magnus Institute. … I–I’m the Archivist.

(MAG136) DAISY: [SCOFF] She’s… Web. Spider’s sneaky like that. [PAUSE] Like that lighter you’re always using. Where’d you get that? ARCHIVIST: Mm. [STATIC RISES] Good point. We should keep our eyes open. [STATIC FADES] Anyway, how’s Basira doing?

(MAG162) MARTIN: You said this place, the–the cabin was… [WOODEN CREAKING SOUND] It, it’s feeding on us, right? ARCHIVIST: Yes… MARTIN: … So should we… destroy it, before we go? […] We’re not even gonna try? We, we’ve got your lighter, maybe we could just– ARCHIVIST: We can’t fight the world, Martin.

(MAG197) ARCHIVIST: “Ignite it”? ANNABELLE: Indeed! And it just so happens that the perfect tool was once delivered to you as a token of appreciation. Though you really do need to learn to keep better care of it. Somehow, it always seems to slip your mind, doesn’t it? ARCHIVIST: What…? BASIRA: Jon, it’s that stupid lighter of yours. ARCHIVIST: [INDIGNANT] My what? I… [STATIC RISES] [PULLS THE GOLD LIGHTER WITH EMBOSSED SPIDERWEB FROM POCKET AND FLICKS IT OPEN] Oh? … Oh. [STATIC FADES]

Sasha remembered it, Tim had commented on Jon trying to discreetly smoke (though that might have been a figure of speech?), Gerry had first assumed that Jon was with the Spider because of it, Daisy had directly asked about the lighter and Jon had redirected the conversation elsewhere, Martin had pointed out at the beginning of this season that Jon still had that lighter with him… and now, Basira revealed that she had noticed it too. The static in MAG136 had made it clear that it wasn’t Jon’s fault, that he was likely supernaturally compelled to not think too long about the lighter, but I love that silly moment, that “My WHAT?! =<= … oh” was one of Jon’s best moments. ever.

- I really wonder whether Annabelle’s reaction was sincere when Jon threatened to let the lighter fall into the hole:

(MAG197) ARCHIVIST: I see. So… [FLICKS LIGHTER SHUT] If I were to throw it away– ANNABELLE: [GASP] ARCHIVIST: –into your little pit… MARTIN: [MUFFLED WORRY] ANNABELLE: [CAREFULLY] I would advise against that. ARCHIVIST: Oh, would you? BASIRA: Jon, she still has Martin. MARTIN: [MUFFLED REMINDER] [TENSE STAND-OFF] ARCHIVIST: Fine! … Fine.

* Jon going for the throat, taunting and threatening and relishing the power he thinks he has is terrifying but also incredibly hot. That condescension…! (And it kind of made a twisted parallel with Annabelle’s discussion with Martin earlier, when she defended that she had once thought about filling him with spiders but discarded that plan. It’s not the same power dynamic, but it still shows that… now, Jon knows how to handle the avatar-game better, and to revel in the power he can have over other terrible beings.)

* … What would have happened exactly? It can’t be just that it would have meant that Jon would have lost his way of igniting the gas main – that could be easily replaced by anything, getting a spark wouldn’t be hard and they have some supplies. What would have happened, if the Web artefact had been thrown into the pit…? Would it have deprived The Web of some of its power, would it have contaminated another world…? Why was Annabelle suddenly that tense over it…?

- Another JonMartin hug ;w;

(MAG159) MARTIN: [DISTANT, VOICE ECHOING] I see… [INHALE] I see you, Jon. [BREATHLESS CHUCKLE] [PRESENT, ECHO FADES] I see you…! ARCHIVIST: Oh, Martin… [FABRIC RUSTLES] MARTIN: [FRANTIC BREATHING] I w–I was on my own…! I was all on my own… ARCHIVIST: Not anymore. Come on – let’s go home…

(Season 5 trailer) MARTIN: You know I’m here for you. ARCHIVIST: [LONG SIGH] … Yes. Yes I do. [RUSTLING OF CLOTHES] MARTIN: All right. All right.

(MAG170) ARCHIVIST: Oh, Martin! Thank god, I, I was… I–I thought you were behind me. [FABRIC RUSTLES] MARTIN: I thought you’d left me behind…! Gone on without me.

(MAG177) ARCHIVIST: … I’m sorry. [SILENCE] MARTIN: [SIGH] It’s okay. I understand. [BAG JOSTLING] [FABRIC RUSTLES] BASIRA: Urgh… [SILENCE] You done?

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: If you’re sure. MARTIN: … I’m sure I love you. [FOOTSTEPS] ARCHIVIST: I love you too. [FABRIC RUSTLES] Let’s go.

(MAG187) ARCHIVIST: [GROGGY] Oh. Martin, good! [BAG JOSTLING] [FABRIC RUSTLES] MARTIN: Wh–, wh–wh–what happened? Th–th–there was the hotel and then…

(MAG191) ARCHIVIST: Sorry. Not something I can help, I’m afraid…! MARTIN: No, I, I know, I know. I’m sorry, it’s okay. [SIGH] [FABRIC RUSTLES] ARCHIVIST: … Bad dream? […] Maybe I survive, but I–I lose… something. My identity? My mind? My… memories? I don’t know. [FABRIC RUSTLES AS THEY EMBRACE] MARTIN: [LONG EXHALE]

(MAG197) MARTIN: [COUGHING AND SPLUTTERING] Jon…! ARCHIVIST: Martin! [FABRIC RUSTLES] MARTIN: … Oh god, I’m sorry, I– ARCHIVIST: It’s fine. MARTIN: I didn’t realise that– ARCHIVIST: We’ll talk later.

(MAG159 was confirmed by Alex, and MAG187 wasn’t marked in the transcript but I definitely hear it!)

;_; Every time, I wonder if it will be the last one… but I’m kind of expecting a big, biiig dramatic hug for the last one so… not there yet.

- I come out of this episode still not knowing exactly what to think about Annabelle – it sounded like her last appearance (“Very well. We shall not see each other again, Archivist. But I eagerly await your decision.”), though it doesn’t mean we wouldn’t hear about her.

My feeling from this episode is that she’s mostly… a sort of vessel of The Web, a puppet herself (her use of “we” sounded like she was the spokeswoman of a greater conscience), and I don’t know what is left of who-she-used-to-be – contrarily to other avatars, she didn’t seem to cast much value in her own self-preservation, since she did point out multiple times that it wouldn’t matter if she got killed in the process of The Web’s plan as long as she delivered its message to Jon first. I’m crossing fingers for something more about Annabelle herself because… it was already the case with The Distortion using Helen as a face and the tragedy of Jon not having been able to know her (plus, when it comes to monsters taking women’s faces: The Hive had invaded Jane Prentiss, the Not!Them postured as Sasha, even Nikola was technically a being older than this particular mannequin), while we got male antagonists who were their own despicable selves like Peter or Elias. On the other hand, Annabelle’s theme seems to be a play with the fears and thoughts people project onto her, the things they expect from her, the role she is forced to play because of these expectations:

(MAG147, Annabelle Cane) “Now, I believe the tradition is to tell you the story of my life; the sinister path that led me inevitably to the sorry state in which I now find myself. Well, let it never be said I do not dance the steps I am assigned.”

(MAG196) MARTIN: I don’t know, like… something a bit more dramatic, I guess. ANNABELLE: We’ll see what we can do. [FOOTSTEPS, THEN CREAKING AS ANNABELLE OPENS THE DOOR] [DRAMATICALLY] Step into my parlour…! […] Let’s make the setting a little more… appropriate, shall we? MARTIN: Hey, just… ah, hah, p–put the camera down, okay? ANNABELLE: You said you wanted something more… “dramatic”. Right?

(MAG197) MARTIN: Oh. Wonderful. I can’t wait to attend the Annabelle Cane Show. ANNABELLE: Huh! You know, I did consider it once. MARTIN: Excuse me? ANNABELLE: A TV show. Reaching out into the homes of millions, giving the more vulnerable ones a subtle nudge towards terror. [TAPE SQUEALS] Probably something for children. … It never went anywhere, of course. These things rarely do. […] Now settle back. Try to look… intentional. MARTIN: What does that mean? ANNABELLE: They’re going to expect a suitably elaborate scene when they arrive, a monstrous tableau. I’d hate to disappoint them…! MARTIN: Rrright… [MARTIN GINGERLY TRIES TO ADJUST HIS POSITION] So, w–were you thinking something like this, or–? ANNABELLE: [SIGH] [ANNABELLE RELEASES A BURST OF WEBBING, GAGGING MARTIN, AND STICKING HIM FIRMLY TO THE CHAIR] MARTIN: [MUFFLED INDIGNANCY] ANNABELLE: My apologies for the inconvenience but appearances are everything, Martin. Now, if you’ll excuse me? I need to change into something more suitable. [BONE CRACKS AND FLESH TEARS AS ANNABELLE REVEALS THIS WASN’T EVEN HER FINAL FORM] [ANNABELLE’S VOICE IS DEEPER FROM HERE ON OUT AND TAPE RECORDERS CAN NO LONGER BE HEARD] [TWISTED STATIC CRACKLE] ANNABELLE: It is so very important to prime your audience. […] I’ve played my part to its completion. You get to decide how I exit the stage.

The entirety of her interaction with Jon was framed as a performance – the performance he expected out of her. Jon was expecting the worse out of Annabelle? He was welcomed with a tape reminding him of his childhood trauma, putting him in the position of the next “guest” who would be devoured by the Spider when he would enter its home. Jon was wary of Annabelle as being dangerous and harming Martin? Annabelle turned into a monster and threatened to harm Martin. Martin might have had some doubts and fears about turning Web, to the point of refusing Jon would look into his head to know what was happening with him in MAG172? Annabelle kept going back and forth about whether Martin was suitable for it or not, with any detail going in a direction and then the other (Martin calculating his behaviour with others making him a likely candidate, but his impatience showing that he wasn’t fitted for it, but his perception of The Web proving that he had what it took…). Annabelle even pointed out to Martin that he was prompt to make a judgement and distrust her before she had done anything to him (“Why? Because of what I say, or because of the assumptions you make about my motives?”): she kept feeding them the lines they were expecting from her. It can simply fit with The Web’s whole thing about making you second-guess and playing on your indecisions, on your uncertainties and doubts; it could also be that there is something more underneath…?

(Especially since… well, technically, Annabelle gave them a lot of information and left them free to think about it. If she were trying to sabotage The Web from the inside, that would probably be the best way to go about it: following the plan like a puppet, and ensuring it goes badly at the same time.)

- That’s FUN, we got the same annihilation as MAG160 for Jon by putting him as responsible of the situation, while at the same time taking the reverse approach regarding being “chosen”:

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “It does tickle me, that in this world of… would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the “Chosen One” is… simply that: someone I chose! It’s not in your blood, or your soul, or your… destiny. It’s just in your own, rotten luck. […] You are prepared. You are ready. You are marked. The power of The Ceaseless Watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here. Don’t worry, Jon. You’ll get used to it here – in the world that we have made.”

(MAG197) ARCHIVIST: So The Web, it wants to spread? To escape into new realities? ANNABELLE: Yes. But not alone. Any attempt to separate the Fears is ultimately doomed, as you well know. ARCHIVIST: But how? ANNABELLE: We found the one we believed most likely to bring about their manifestation. We marked him young, guided his path as best we could. And then, we took his voice. […] ARCHIVIST: … I won’t do it. ANNABELLE: Possibly. You’ve seen your other options. […] BASIRA: … What about her? ARCHIVIST: [HARSH] Good question. As far as I can tell, there’s now nothing to stop me killing you. And throwing this lighter away forever. ANNABELLE: Nothing, except your own indecision. […] We shall not see each other again, Archivist. But I eagerly await your decision.

There are so many little differences between the ways they pictured Jon’s role! Both presented him at the centre of their plans, as a necessary piece: Jonah gloated about the way he had picked and shaped Jon’s fate, and his whole letter was about retroactively depriving Jon of his own agency (shaping the fantasies that Jonah had always been in control and had led Jon where he wanted to ultimately be); and surprisingly, The Web took another approach, no less hurtful – framing the apocalypse as the result of a sort of uniqueness which meant that, since Jon was a child, he was likely to cause the apocalypse, and presenting the outcome and destiny of their world… as his, leaving him the possibility to “decide”.

And as much as Jonah blew the idea that he had always been in control out of proportions (the idea to send Jared after Jon and then going pikachuface when Jared attacked the Archives without waiting…), he still felt more honest than what Annabelle said about Jon! I’m especially interested in this bit:

(MAG197) ANNABELLE: We found the one we believed most likely to bring about their manifestation. We marked him young, guided his path as best we could. And then, we took his voice.

Because… what bullshit, what with giving the impression that there would have been anything special about an eight-year-old boy making him the “most likely” to cause the apocalypse! Implying that it was even Jon’s choice by failing to remind that Jonah had been responsible for it! It’s easy to describe Jon as the person who was meant to Open The Door now that it indeed happened, and I’m absolutely ready to picture that there were actually thousands of potential people who could have done it in the world and it “simply” happened with Jon. After all, Annabelle had pointed out last episode that “People get so caught up on how intricate they are, how perfectly constructed. They never consider how flexible they can be. The sort of storm they need to weather. You can’t be precious about a single strand.”: how many discarded plans had there been in the last century or so? I also love and hate how it paralleled The Web’s use of tapes: individually, each segment might have been true… but not necessarily in the order Annabelle suggested:

“We found the one we believed most likely to bring about their manifestation.” => Web indeed did support Jonah’s plans, but when did it decide that Jon would be the perfect candidate?

“We marked him young” => Jonah pointed out that Jon already had The Web mark and that it contributed in making him pick Jon as the next Archivist for his project.

“guided his path as best we could” => The Web tipped Jon off here and there during the series (a spider led to the season 1 climax, strengthening Jon’s chances of survival since the worms weren’t fully ready yet; there were cobwebs on Jon’s first tape recorder; The Web sent Oliver to help Jon to “make his choice” and wake up at the start of season 4; a tape covered in cobwebs sent Jon on a quest for an anchor, it was specifically a Flesh statement so likely trying to direct him towards Jared…)

“And then, we took his voice.” => Pushing Jon in the direction of the tape recorder to record the “difficult” statements that didn’t work on computers.

Did The Web send Jon to the Institute, or did Jon’s curiosity push him to wanting to understand what had happened with the book when he was a child? Who knows! But it’s all about framing these various elements in a certain order to make it feel like there is a coherent, merciless narrative that had used Jon like a puppet all along, while potentially keeping the most important part under silence: that The Web needed someone to bring the apocalypse… but that it mostly needed someone who would hate said apocalypse and would try to reverse it. That was the part The Web needed above all, given what Annabelle had just explained.

- Maybe it’s a useless wish at this point (only three episodes left) but Annabelle pushing the idea that Jon was “most likely” to bring the apocalypse screams “destiny as a concept” screams “Agnes” to me ;; Someone involved with The Web, whose voice was hidden and who was only described through the eyes of men and/or people romantically interested in her, who was aware of the expectations and the “destiny” announced for her and who might have decided to go another way…

- Jon said they would talk:

(MAG197) ARCHIVIST: We’ll talk about it later. Once you’re safe. MARTIN: [MUFFLED DOWNBEAT ACKNOWLEDGEMENT] […] Oh god, I’m sorry, I– ARCHIVIST: It’s fine. MARTIN: I didn’t realise that– ARCHIVIST: We’ll talk later. […] MARTIN: So… what do we do now? ARCHIVIST: Let’s get out of here. After that… we’ll see.

And indeed, they ought to. Two things that have been established and that I could see coming back:

* Martin had forbidden Jon to look into his head, to be able to respect some privacy (MAG167) and because he thought he would second-guess everything if it turned out The Web had been manipulating him (MAG172). Basira just reminded Jon that he needed to trust them to have their own opinions, that having an opposite stance to his didn’t mean they were manipulated… but I could also see Martin asking Jon to look inside him again to have the absolute certainty that no, Martin wasn’t manipulated. (Or maybe was, even partially, being nudged in a direction he partially wanted anyway.)

* Martin still hasn’t shared that he planned to ask Jon to smite him if they couldn’t find any way to turn the world back. As things are, sadly, it would feel extremely pressuring (since the only way to not go in that direction… would then be to follow Annabelle’s plan to get rid of the Fears).

- Given everything that was thrown in his face with this episode? I want Jon to have a breakdown and cry :w

- There are two gigantic lines of small print coming with Annabelle’s plan:

(MAG197) ANNABELLE: It’s very simple. Destroy the Archives, and cut out The Eye’s pupil. BASIRA: [SARCASTIC] Oh, is that all? […] And how exactly are we supposed to destroy the Archives? ANNABELLE: Many years ago, a draughtsman made an unfortunate and egregious error on certain city planning documents. As a result, an unusually large and dangerous gas main just happened to be constructed directly below the building you knew as the Magnus Institute, in a place where it would be protected by the tunnels of Robert Smirke, unchanged by the world’s reformation. [TAPE SQUEALS] You need only ignite it.

* Destroying the Panopticon through the tunnels means that the survivors would lose their only mean of protection. Melanie had pointed out that her and Georgie’s own protection was neither total nor long-lasting for others:

(MAG190) MELANIE: I wasn’t exactly going to leave her there so… we grabbed her and legged it. And… that’s when we discovered that we can keep others hidden as well. MARTIN: Hm. MELANIE: Not completely, and, and, not for long, but… it’s enough to get them here to the tunnels.

So they wouldn’t be able to protect the other survivors on the outside, and Annabelle just destroyed the camera (which could have been an alternative way to protect them for a while). Going with that plan would mean evacuating them and them consenting to it, and… would they agree? On the one hand, they could firmly oppose that plan (nobody would want to be put back in the domains’ hells); on the other hand, they might agree if it seems like Melanie&Georgie believe that this option has a chance to succeed (and out of belief that this is the way to achieve Melanie’s “premonition” of the apocalypse stopping)… and at the same time, Melanie&Georgie would probably refuse because of that, since it would be abusing the survivors’ trust and security over such a big lie, when they have no way to know if it would work.

* … Igniting a gas main through a lighter of all things means that the person taking care of the ignition is absolutely sure to be engulfed into the explosion, since it requires the flame to get into contact with the gas – unless they still have some materials from the Gertrude era or from the Exploding The Unknowing plans back from season 3 down in the tunnel, like a fuse?

Jon had pointed out that he should be able to harm Jonah:

(MAG193) ARCHIVIST: You were right. MARTIN: About what? ARCHIVIST: His body is vulnerable. A–at least to me. MARTIN: … What’s the catch? ARCHIVIST: I could kill his body, sever the link, break The Eye’s power, and… Jonah Magnus would die. MARTIN: Okay, that sounds good but…? ARCHIVIST: But… that wouldn’t actually harm The Eye itself. And with him gone it would… it would choose a suitable replacement. MARTIN: Oh. ARCHIVIST: If we kill Jonah Magnus… I take his place.

Which means it would probably be his role to severe the link between Jonah and Beholding, which means someone else would have to take care of the ignition… aaaaaaaand we have a certain someone who already proved himself regarding fire, and who recently stated that he actually had a fear of it.

(MAG117) MARTIN: This way I finally get to do something. It’s gonna hurt but… I’m ready. And I want to. Also, I get to burn some stuff, so that’s cool!

(MAG118) [CLICK–] MARTIN: [EXHALE] Are you listening? [DEEP INHALE] … Good. [PAPER RUSTLE] Case, uh… 0071304. Statement of… Ivo Lensik. [EXHALE] [LIGHTER FLICKED OPEN] All right…! [LIGHTER BEING TURNED ON] [SMALL GASP] [SOUND OF PAPER BURNING] [DEEP EXHALE] [PAPER RUSTLE] “Statement ends”, I guess…! Hum… [PAPER RUSTLE] “Harold Silvana”! Number 0020406. Will probably do! [PAPER RUSTLE] [LIGHTER BEING TURNED ON] [SOUND OF PAPER BURNING] All right, then! 0140207, Dylan Anderson. [PAPER RUSTLE] Yeah? … Okay~ [LIGHTER BEING TURNED ON] [EXHALE] There’s plenty more on the pile~ [SOUND OF PAPER BURNING]

(MAG169) MARTIN: Will the fire feel hot to me? ARCHIVIST: Yes. MARTIN: Will it cause me lots of pain, if I touch it? ARCHIVIST: Yes, though not as much as– MARTIN: [SHAKILY BUT STRONG] Will it burn me alive, and kill me dead? ARCHIVIST: … No. It can’t do us any permanent harm; once we’re out, we’ll be fine. MARTIN: You are aware that intense pain can do you loads of harm, even if there’s no any physical injury! […] I know! I know, okay, I just… [SOMETHING SHATTERS] Look, I j–, I just don’t want to get burned, all right? It’s, it’s like my least favourite pain ever. ARCHIVIST: Is that… a joke? MARTIN: No, no! Okay? I… I legitimately hate burns, all right, they’re–they’re awful, and they scar horribly, and they just, it– It–it just makes me sick, I–I hate it. Hate it!

… It screams “Martin igniting the gas main” a bit ;; (I wonder if he will confirm whether or not Jon had lent the lighter to him in MAG118, or if that one was another, more mundane lighter?)

* Additionally: being at the top of the tower cutting the link between Jonah and Beholding precisely when the (under)ground level of that same building is being exploded with the goal of destroying the Panopticon/the Archives (since both words were used)… doesn’t bode well for whoever is at the top of that tower when it happens.

- Overall, I’m curious about what Jon and the others will do, concretely right now and after taking a decision, but I’m also not expecting them to follow Annabelle’s plan and presented binary at all.

Regarding what will happen immediately after the end of this episode: as much as Georgie’s last words (when she sent Jon&Martin on their way in MAG192) might have worked as a last appearance, Melanie’s (when she invited Jon to think about where Martin could have gone in MAG194) would be more surprising. Although there are only three episodes left, holy heck, I’m expecting Basira&Jon&Martin to regroup with Melanie&Georgie&the survivors in the tunnels to discuss what they’ve learned and their options? It will feel a bit weird to go back immediately to the tunnels but, at the same time, the framing device granted by the tapes has just been pointed out again – if the tape recorders don’t feel like the journey back to the tower (even with Jon pouring out a domain statement) is worth their while, if Jon&Basira&Martin don’t talk at all during that journey or don’t say anything that they find relevant, then they won’t get recorded at all until they’re back and ready to talk about things. (There is still a tiny possibility that they do talk on the way back and that Jon gives a statement… but since there are only three episodes left, I think we would all collectively lose it if one of them was used up for a domain statement.)

I’m curious about their individual stance on the whole thing. Jon was quick to point out that it would likely mean a rinse and repeat in another world of what they experienced – the Fears lurking at the border until they would be invoked in their fullest, dooming that world (these other worlds?) in turn. But on a personal level… they all know the amount of misery the Fears were able to cause even before the apocalypse: Jon was traumatised as a kid; Sasha’s whole life and existence were stolen; Tim had lost his brother because of the Fears; Georgie had lost her precious friend Alex because of them; Melanie had to gouge her eyes out to escape Beholding; Martin almost got swallowed entirely by The Lonely; and even the survivors: they were trapped in the domains, they know how bad it was, they know what inflicting the Fears on others would mean… but it would also be understandable for all of them to want to survive and save their own world. But what about the weight of responsibility? All of them in this world were subjected to the apocalypse by the decision of one person, Jonah (and the support he received from The Web), who manipulated Jon into opening the door: now redirecting the Fears on other people would mean making an active choice, being responsible for their misery. But what about the intrinsic bias in the fact that the people who would be able to make that choice and to act on it are precisely people who are not currently subjected to the domains? Choosing to sacrifice their world and the billions of people suffering for the sake of other worlds would be awful considering they’re not getting tortured alongside them at the moment. It’s all one big complicated trolley problem.

Thematically, I have trouble picturing them following Annabelle’s plan: Jon immediately refused, they have no guarantee that it would work exactly as she announced (and that there aren’t a few more caveats), and it would mean validating The Web’s plan, what it had worked on for so long, and which was based on the same reasoning as Jonah – the idea that someone would irremediably cause the apocalypse, and that it was better to stay in control of when and how it would happen to prepare its own escape rather than to try to prevent it. But at the same time, it might be a bit too hopeful to think that the group and the survivors would find and manoeuvre around a third way that would indeed nerf the Fears? ;; Technically, Annabelle’s instructions contained new information that could still be useful:

* The Fears are currently anchored through (at least) three elements: Beholding’s pupil (currently Jonah); the Panostitute/the Archives, vulnerable through Smirke’s tunnels; and the tapes, containing records of Fears. Annabelle didn’t mention Jon at all as a lynchpin, which is quite surprising given how the whole world had been able to identify him as someone special (as Simon had put it, “You might be the closest thing the universe has ever had to an important person”).

* The blob of Fears contains its own contradictions: some part of it wants to survive and is able to scheme for that survival (The Web), some part of it craves its own annihilation (The End) – technically, it inherently contains its own potential death.

(- I’m not sure what to expect about the survivors, whether they’ll be down with any plan or vehemently oppose or sabotage some of it. I know that personally, I would prefer them to just be… people who’ve been hurt, who are not nefarious, and who might even be able to provide out-of-the-box ideas? I fear that if they were the ones to “ruin” any plan, it would be an easy way to absolve our main characters of having made the final mistakes dooming everything, by redirecting the blame on random people, and give the idea that Humanity Sucks Actually, so it’s really not something that appeals to me.

I wonder if Rosie might join them in the tunnels? She would be another of the collaterals if the Panopticon were to get destroyed, since she’s trapped in that one…)

- I am really curious about how characters will now behave with the tape recorders, and whether we have learned everything there is to know about them. I’m onboard with the idea that The Web needed fragments of Fears woven onto the tapes, and had worked for the tapes to get created in the first place, but I’m still having some interrogations regarding what Annabelle said and how she acted around them.

* Characters had mentioned multiple times that something was “listening” through the tape recorders, or that they felt “watched” when it was on. However, Annabelle demonstrated that she doesn’t have an immediate knowledge of things as they were getting recorded:

(MAG197) MARTIN: And… Wait, ha–, no, uh… Is that… Basira? He–he’s got Basira with him! ANNABELLE: Yes. I did wonder if that would be the case. Interesting. And unfortunate for me. That’s two heads we’ll need to keep cool. My odds aren’t looking good.

If that knowledge had been instantaneous, Annabelle would have known for a while now that Basira was with Jon, since he picked her up in the lake in MAG195, on tape. Annabelle had taunted Martin about what was listening at the end of MAG196 but never clearly answered about that – her plan relies on the Fears hearing the voices and following… but are they the thing that had been listening through the tape recorders since the beginning? Could be that The Web itself is listening though the tape recorders? If so, that would also mean that Annabelle is not directly connected to it.

* The thing about the lighter having allowed The Web and the tapes to follow Jon… only partially works, technically.

(MAG197) ANNABELLE: A little anchor of our power, so that we, and our tapes, may follow wherever you go.

Season 2’s trailer had announced the tape recorder turning on by themselves, which is something we first witnessed in MAG080: the official transcript had two [CLICK] at the beginning of the episode (Jon taking Leitner’s statement); at some point, Jon, shaken, left the office to have a smoke (possibly compelled by the lighter), leaving Leitner alone; there was another [CLICK] when Elias entered the room and the “texture” of the tape spooling changed; Elias murdered Leitner, left the office; Jon came back and discovered the body and the recording stopped. What might have happened is that Jon was recording the event, but that another recorder had been sneakily double-recording everything by itself; when Elias entered the office, he turned off one of the recorders, unaware that there was another still running and catching everything on tape. Said tape was still in the Institute afterwards – Melanie retrieved it from Elias’s desk in MAG118, and it was the piece of evidence that forced Section 31 to arrest Elias in MAG120 (since the Inspector pointed out that it contains the recording of a murder – if it had been Gertrude’s, the secret of Elias-being-Jonah would have been known at that point).

It is true that the tapes had turned on and off around Jon after that point during season 3… but they did the same at the Institute when Jon was away, including when he was in America. In fact, the first times the tapes had begun acting up were around the Assistants (Tim didn’t want to get recorded in MAG082, and he&Daisy commented that it had turned back on; and it turned back on again at the end of the episode when Martin&Tim were discussing); by MAG114, Jon even thought that Tim was navigating through the tunnels because he wanted to avoid the tape recorders in the Archives. Chronologically, there are even a few cases where tape recorders might have been acting up pre-Jon: it’s unclear whether Gerry had accidentally turned it on in MAG162, and the recording of Gertrude’s murder in MAG158 had started when she was already busy pouring gasoline around.

I could accept that at that point, The Web had basically made its nest in the Archives (since Gertrude had her own connections with The Web through Hill Top Road and Emma had been working there for a while), but the point remains that the lighter had not been the (only?) thing allowing the tape recorders to act up. Actually, it’s even surprising that Annabelle kept talking about the “tapes” but not the “tape recorders”, and that neither she nor Jon ever clearly stated that it was The Web controlling or listening through the tape recorders themselves:

(MAG196) MARTIN: Wait… Wait. The tapes… ANNABELLE: A fine material to spin a web with, don’t you think? MARTIN: What? All this time, through all of this… it, it was just you spying on us? ANNABELLE: Oh, Martin! You have no idea who’s listening, do you?

(MAG197) BASIRA: … So. The tapes. They’re from The Web, then? ARCHIVIST: Looks like it. BASIRA: Were they always? Right from the start? ARCHIVIST: As far as I can tell. I–it’s hard to s–… If I look too closely at them, my own voice, things get… recursive. Hard to follow. BASIRA: I always assumed they were with The Eye. The whole “watching, listening, waiting” thing, you know? ARCHIVIST: No… They were always using them to spin their own web. Out of my words. […] MARTIN: I’d hardly call this silence. ANNABELLE: I’d stop them if I could…! […] We found the one we believed most likely to bring about their manifestation. We marked him young, guided his path as best we could. And then, we took his voice. ARCHIVIST: No… ANNABELLE: His, and those he walked with. We inscribed them on shining strands of word and meaning, and used them to weave a web which cast itself out through the gate and beyond our universe. So that when the Fears heard that voice, and came in their terrible glory, they might then travel out along it. [TAPE SQUEALS] Or be dragged. BASIRA: Is she talking about the tapes? ARCHIVIST: Yes.

So: was it always The Web controlling the recorders, is it still The Web? Or did something else happen, either from the start, either growing over the power that was being stored, and which led to the tape recorders also catching mundane conversations in the Archives…?

Regardless: characters might now associate tapes with The Web spying on them, which means that we could get a few more games of whack-a-tape-recorder or characters deliberately refraining from pouring their hearts out when they’re in the vicinity, or being unreliable on tape on purpose.

Only 3 episodes to go ;_; In previous seasons, at this point: Jon had just interrogated Martin about the lighter delivery (ha.), Jon had listened to Gertrude’s tape about the Not!Them, the Archive team had recorded their testaments and Jon had burned Gerry’s page with a lighter (ha.), Jon had read Adelard’s last statement to Gertrude explaining his incoming death and was panicking over Peter&Martin’s plan being set into motion, leading to Georgie&Melanie refusing to help and Helen gloating about it.

MAG198’s title is the WORST and doesn’t inspire me anything else than: shit going down soon TTwwTT

#tma liveblog #mag197 #tma season 5 #tma spoilers/#long post/#the magnus archives

28 notes · View notes

onegoodhonestkiss · 3 years

Text

so jon is like 100% gonna become a decrepit archivist like the thing lurking around alexandria right

there’s like, a bunch of foreshadowing about it, going as far back as their first appearance in season 2.

from MAG 53:

GERTRUDE My biggest concern right now is whatever creature Mr. Heller encountered down there. (...)What was it? A guardian of some sort? Or perhaps… perhaps… it too was once an archivist.

ARCHIVIST Well, only two tapes so far and already I… I don’t know what to think. Another archive, an earlier version. Am I just part of a chain? A long, unending string of people who call themselves “the archivist” stretching back to… Are we all destined to end up like Gertrude, just following the same path?

so here, we start to see jon, who was already scared to become like gertrude (see the iconic i refuse to become another goddamn mystery line), start to consider there might be worse things that come with the title of archivist.

but it’s not until season 3 that we learn that jon is actively terrified of becoming like the monster in alexandria, in MAG 97, when he makes his return to the institute and has this conversation with the bastard man himself.

ARCHIVIST Am I… Elias, am I still human?

ELIAS (...) You’re worried about ending up like that thing, lurking in the dirt under the streets of Alexandria? Don’t be. Just do what you need to, and you’ll be fine. Understood?

so here we get canonical confirmation that he is very much worried about being nothing but a starving monster, desperate to Know.

okay, now let’s jump to season 5.

MAG 178, featuring one of the saddest lines on the show:

ARCHIVIST No one gets what they deserve. Not in this place. They just get whatever hurts them the most. Even me.

you see where i'm going with this, right???

and then we have this conversation in MAG 191, right before martin promises to let jon go if necessary:

ARCHIVIST Yep. They’re, um… They’re Archivists.

MARTIN Come again?

ARCHIVIST Did you ever listen to Gertrude’s interview with, uh, Sergeant Heller?

MARTIN Oh… that’s a blast from the past. Uhhh, I think so? Uh, World War Two, right? Under Alexandria? Saw some monster with a wei–

ARCHIVIST Mmhmm.

MARTIN …eye. Right.

ARCHIVIST I’m not the first Archivist. Not by a long way. Most of the others died like Gertrude, but some… lingered, and, well, let’s just say I’m not the only one that feels the Panopticon calling.

MARTIN Right. Jon. If… When we defeat The Eye, the fears… What happens to you?

ARCHIVIST Nothing good.

If, however, we find a way to somehow destroy or, uh, eliminate the powers… I’m not going to be okay. There’s too much of me that’s part of The Eye now. I don’t… know what would be left of me without it. Maybe I just die. Maybe I survive, but I lose… something. My identity. My mind. My… memories. I don’t know.

i'll admit, it might be a reach, but the fact that their conversation about the lurking archivists was directly followed by one about jon’s crimson fate………………….. many thoughts head full

and then, finally, even if i'm wrong, which i've never been in my entire life, this line from MAG 197, when they are discussing annabelles plan, has to mean SOMETHING

ANNABELLE Jon would lose much of himself, the parts of him that are The Eye. But he would survive. And perhaps more importantly, he would remain who he believes himself to be.

that phrasing is SO weird, man. why wouldn't she just say he’ll be okay? that he’ll remain as jonathan sims, but not as the archivist?

my guess is that she wouldn't, because he wont. he will remain “who he believes himself to be”. and, i don't know if you've noticed, but jon does not think particularly highly of himself. what is jarchivist if not a miserable little pile of self hatred and terror of becoming the thing that lurks under alexandria.

so, you know. hopefully he will die. if he doesn't, though? if he lives and becomes what he believes himself to be? there's some pretty strong evidence to support the claim that he will, infact, become a decrepit husk of an archivist once he is completely cut off from the eye. cause, ya know, he hurts and he hurts and he hurts, and everyone gets what hurts them the most.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims

27 notes · View notes

thebadchoicemachine · 4 years

Text

Cryptid Jon (Blind Eye AU)

An AU where Jon prevents himself from finishing the watcher’s crown. He shut the eye but in doing so kind of resets everything and he gets erased from existence somehow.

If you wanna do something more with this be my guest btw, write, draw, whatever. Don’t even have to credit i'm just throwing stuff out here.

Things get reset back to episode one basically

Although Jon doesn’t and has never existed there’s no real butterfly effect from this, things are the same but he’s absent.

Archivist!Sasha?

None of the Fears nor their avatars are aware of him, not even the web or eye.

In fact he’s a blind spot for the eye, at least to Jonah.

He’s still got those good good Archivist powers and can fight avatars, it just doesn’t feed the eye like it used to. Just him. They’re HIS powers now.

He decides he should keep his distance because w h a t t h e h e l l he is NOT rushing into this one. Keeping his card close as he can.

Basically tries to secretly help out the Archivist Crew with as much self control as he can. (LOTS of angst from the shadows about Tim, Sasha, Martin)

Lives in the tunnels and chats with Leitner some before he gets piped.

“accidentally” Fails to mention to Leitner that there’s a pipe with his name on it.

Meets Michael and they’re kinda buds now(?)

He kind of reveals himself preventing the Jane Prentiss attack.

Manages to stop the Not!Them from taking anyone.

Everyone’s just worried and confused like “oh no there’s another monster and he knows all about us?”

except Elias who is kind of freaking out because he has no idea who that is and he can’t See it either what the fuuuuuuu but files it in the back of his head as some weird Darkness Avatar and maybe it can mark Sasha.

Elias is trying to build the watchers crown with Sasha now btw because he has no idea of what happened before.

•••

Well shit, Basira is looking into him now because he managed to still be blamed for Leitner’s murder.

This wouldn’t be a problem if Daisy (currently unchecked avatar of the Hunt) wasn’t helping her GF.

Jon’s out of the tunnels now because the Archive Crew’s exploring. (Not!Them escaped and is staying away from the Eye’s domain so it’s not trapped there. Preparing for the unknowing probably.)

Jon makes some knew friends! (The other Avatars) They hate him! Very Much!

Jon’s actually become a bit infamous among the things of the fears as this (supposed) Avatar to The Eye that just keeps fucking their stuff up.

Micheal is just loving watching everyone pull their hair about this. He’s still taking people though (Helen…)

Peter complains about it to Elias. Elias has moved him up a few spaces on his his concern list.

Meanwhile Sasha, Tim, and Martin have also shifted their focus to that strange man that helped(?) them, supposedly clocked an old man to death, then vanished.

He shows up in statements sometimes and they’re debating on wether he’s a monster or some kind of monster hunter or maybe just a friendly-ish monster...

Tim think’s he’s good because he killed the worms (and stopped a circus mannequin in one statement), Martin’s cautious because he showed up at his house right before the worms attacked him and Sasha’s torn and undecided.

Sasha and Daisy have a fight like Daisy and Jon did but it gets sorted in a similar way except with less Elias hate.

Elias doesn’t face as much resistance in this au so doesn’t let his mask slip as much but he is being thrown so off by Jon.

Elias gets less hate because everyones focusing more on Jon aka strange library man aka Joe Spooky.

But I cannot stress enough how much worse this is for him than cannon.

•••

Melanie and Georgie are on a date or something when they come home to find a stranger petting the Admiral. Freaking out they jump to fight (Melanie)/call the police (Georgie) but the man stands up apologizing they froze.

Having him look directly at them made them feel like he was looking at every layer of them, from clothes to skin to bone.

It felt like he could riffle through their minds like a file cabinet but (even worse) like he didn’t need too. Like he already knew everything he wanted to about them.

He said they clearly didn’t recognize him, disappointed, like they should have, and that he just needed something familiar to be with for a while (gesturing to the cat).

He then mumbled something about recommending they avoid travel for a while and started to walk briskly (almost… awkwardly?) past them to the door.

He paused halfway out the door and mumbled to “stay away from The Magnus Institute, especially the Archivist. Don’t give them anything and whatever you do-”

He turned, and they could feel him seeing something about themselves even they didn’t know, all apologeticness gone from his character. “Do. Not. Give. A statement.”

They knew- they KNEW- with every fiber of their beings that he meant them no harm but would bring it regardless. In that moment, with every fiber of their beings, they knew.

Then he blinked and hurried out before either of them could snap to their senses.

They filled out a police report and tried to forget it but could constantly swear they caught glimpses of him around their neighborhood after that.

•••

Oh Boy The Web Keeps Trying To Wrap Itself Around Jon But It’s Not Working And It’s Pissing It Off!

The Unknowing happens much earlier

Eventually they go to stop the unknowing (guided by Elias) along with Basira and Daisy.

Nikola actually kidnapped Jon because she was obsessed with this “stranger” and thought he’d be fun for the ritual.

Micheal frees him and Helen shows up but they don’t kill each other.

Micheal liiiives.

Instead The Archive Crew finds a door opening up and the strange man from the tunnels assures them that the unknowing will fail whether they do anything or not.

He warns Sasha (and subconsciously Tim) especially to stay away from the stranger.

He lets slip a BUNCH more of way more personal information he knows about them to convince them to stay away.

He also warns them to not trust Elias. After Matin went “but Elias said-“

Sasha want to know what The Stranger means.

Tim does not like this. Neither does Daisy. They end up trying to fight Jon. Jon refuses to fight and let’s slip something about The Hunt controlling Daisy then bolts back into Helen’s door.

The Archivcrew end up being stalled enough that by the time they get there the whole place is aflame. (Thanks Jude….)

Tim and Martin have switched opinions of him. Tim distrusts him now and Martin feels he’s an ally, at least. Sasha has decided that whatever he is he’s information and goes on a search to find him with Daisy (uh oh) and Basira.

They end up going to where a break in was reported, nothing stolen and the description of a short, heavily scarred man with long hair matched their spooky man. (It’s Georgie’s house.)

Georgie and Melanie accidentally end up giving a statement which made for a very awkward moment when they said he said to not give anything to the Archivist and Sasha had to clear her throat and mention that she is the Archivist. Oops.

Meanwhile Elias is going nuts because now this blind spot has actively disrupted his plans. Jon has his full attention.

Elias (…Jonah) is patient. He’s waited so long for this, putting plans on hold to stomp out an unwanted rock in the road is fine.

1/? will probably make more of this EDIT: part 2

#tma #tma au #the magnus archives #the magnus institute #magnuspod #alternate universe #head canon #time travel #archivist!sasha #cryptid jon #blind eye au

174 notes · View notes

celsidebottom · 3 years

Text

A Shadow that Stares Back

Sasha James should have been Archivist, until Jonah found out that Jon was so heavily marked by the Fears.

But as old Archivists arise to protect the panopticon, the real Sasha is among them, a shell of her former self.

Jon stopped in his tracks.

“What is it?” Martin asked. In the darkness of the tunnels, they walked hand-in-hand, and their only direction was from Jon’s connection to the Eye that returned ever so slightly as they neared the surface and his memory of the maps Georgie had drawn for them.

“There’s… another Archivist ahead of us.”

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Will it come after you? Us?” Martin questioned, scanning the darkness as if he could see anything despite there being no light source. “Can it hurt you?”

Martin could feel Jon shrug as he squeezed Martin’s hand a little bit tighter. “I honestly have no idea down here. Not with these creatures.”

“Don’t suppose you know if you’ll be able to smite them either, if they do notice you and attack, or something.”

“No idea. But… that’s not all.”

“Oh, there’s more?” Martin said with mock enthusiasm. “I thought encountering an old, decrepit zombie Archivist was more than enough excitement for a single intangible day.”

“It’s Sasha.”

Martin froze entirely. “Sasha?”

“Sasha James. The original one. The real one.”

“I thought she died?”

Jon replied, “What does death mean in a world like this anyway? Besides, we really only had the not-them’s word that she died.” He paused, then continued, “Sasha was supposed to be Archivist. She should have been Archivist, except Jonah found me, already marked by so many Fears. But Sasha still had, or has, that tie to the Archives and to the role of its keeper. Which is why she’s here now.”

“Can we… talk to her?”

Jon sighed, and Martin knew the answer. He’d known the answer before he asked, truly, but that didn’t stop him.

“I don’t believe it would be wise.”

“But… if there is any of her left in there… she was our friend! At least, I think she was…”

“We can’t remember her,” Jon said, turning to face Martin even though they still couldn’t see each other in the darkness. “And you will not want to see her like that. You don’t want your only memory of the real Sasha to be whatever is left in that room. I think we can avoid her, if we backtrack a little and take the other passage.”

He tugged gently on Martin’s hand, to lead him away, but Martin stood fast.

“I have to try and talk to her.”

“Martin…”

“Please. I have to try.”

For a moment, Jon hesitated, then let out a heavy breath. “She might communicate to Jonah, to the panopticon, that someone is in the tunnels. It is a risk to us, and to Georgie, Melanie, and the Cult. We’re already risking enough.”

“I know,” Martin snapped, then squeezed Jon’s hand a couple times in apology for his brusqueness.

Before he allowed himself to be moved, however, footsteps sounded at the far end of the corridor and a pale green light emanated from the source. It was a gaunt individual with two glowing eyes. If it hadn’t been walking and moving toward Martin and Jon, it would look dead. It should have been dead.

But instead, it stepped toward them, slowly and methodically, and let out a low growl when the light of its eyes fell upon the intruders.

“She’s not a full Archivist,” Jon remarked. “Because she never technically had the role, she’s only partially there.”

“That’s why she doesn’t have the one eye? And why she isn’t just bone?” Martin turned his head slightly toward him.

“Partially. She also hasn’t been dead all that long, and I suspect that has something to do with it too.”

“But if she’s only part Archivist monster thing, maybe there’s a chance?” Martin urged. “Maybe she won’t tell Jonah, maybe we can… get through to her or something?”

Before Jon could make any kind of decision, the creature stepped closer and groaned again.

Martin faced it – her – and called, “Sasha? “Sasha, it’s me, Martin. We… we used to work together, in the Archives. We were friends, I think. Do you remember me?”

She stopped moving.

“Right, it’s me. I’m the one that disappeared for days? And then lived in the Archives with a fire extinguisher? We worked together. You and Tim did most of the work, really, I kept to myself, but…” He took a deep breath. “And Jon is here, too. Jon, our boss?”

“We want to help you rest,” he said softly. “You deserve at least that much.”

In the faint, green light that shone from the-thing-that-was-once-Sasha, it was nearly impossible to make out any details of her appearance, and Martin was grateful for that. Jon was right; he didn’t want to remember Sasha like that, as a zombie, an unwitting and unwilling servant of the Eye and Jonah even after she was dead and gone. It hurt to have no memory of her, to not even know what she looked like, but to see her like that was far from a fitting replacement.

“Rest…” She hissed. “Please…”

“Can we go by you?” Martin asked. “If we can go past, we can fix this. We can help you.”

The Archivist stepped to the side of the tunnel, and Jon pulled Martin along so that they could move by Sasha and be safely on their way.

“Thank you,” Martin said. “Thank you, Sasha.”

She said nothing more until they were far away from her, turning down another corridor, and her voice echoed after them.

“There is no fixing this, Martin. There is no helping me now.”

Martin held Jon’s hand tighter and carried on even as his heart sunk.

There had to be a way to fix things. Maybe the world wouldn’t go back to normal, so to speak, but it had to get better.

Sasha deserved better than to be a monster. And Martin would do whatever he could to make sure she finally received some peace.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #Martin Blackwood #Sasha James #tma spoilers #listen I don't really expect this to happen #and if it did it would more likely be an undead Gertrude #HOWEVER #it is about the Angst #and it's missing Sasha hours #yes both James and Racket but you know lol #tma fic #my fic

24 notes · View notes

dragimal · 3 years

Text

now that s5 is over and I’m starting to wind down from the high of the finale, I think I can finally grasp *exactly* why I have mixed feelings on s5. to be clear, I absolutely ADORE TMA as a whole, and still consider it one of the best pieces of horror media I’ve consumed. but s5 left me feeling... not bad, but off, even when there’s plenty I still rly like abt s5

it mainly comes down to 2 things for me: 1) the severe tone shift, and 2) Martin being Fucking Weird for a lot of the season

a lot of ppl have talked abt how s5 just wasn’t as scary as the previous seasons for various reasons. one kinda inevitable reason was simply that a lot of the mystery of the horror had been revealed at that point, and a monster is never as scary once you can see it clearly. but I think the bigger reason is that the format shifted from horror anthology to.... sociology anthology. like, every statement of s5 felt like a sociology paper on fear and systemic abuse, rather than something meant to chill the reader

this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, honestly-- like I said, much of the mystery had been revealed, so I think it was an understandable move to try to shift the narrative somehow. also, I love sociology papers! I think they’re interesting to read, and s5 gave us some rly creative frameworks for some of them (the poetic carousel, Oliver’s professional assessment, Jared’s garden--)

however, I do think the tone shift was still a bit jarring, esp considering what the audience was used to up to that point. perhaps that’s an appropriate move, to match a plot point as game-changing as the literal apocalypse. BUT that doesn’t mean the tone shift still wasn’t a bit of a let-down, in terms of horror and tension

like, yeah a lot of the mystery was gone, but Hill Top Road ended up being the big mystery of s5... and we weren’t even fully aware of it til almost the end of the season? sure, there was plenty of fan speculation, but we were also considering SO many other possibilities, Hill Top was never rly a core theory until VERY late in the game. like, the mystery seemed to take a backseat to the sociology papers, if that makes sense, lmao

literally the ONE episode to give me chills down my spine like the good ol’ days pre-s5 was MAG196: This Old House. Annabelle vaguely threatening Martin, and ending on, “You have no idea who’s listening, do you?” fucking SUPERB, I was absolutely DELIGHTED by the possibilities of that one line! like, what did it mean? were we gonna go full meta??

but the last few eps after that were... frankly kind of a letdown from that spike of tension? I think those last eps are what rly cinched this idea for me-- that s5 was literally like reading a sociology paper. it rly all was just, arguing about the possibilities, considering the consequences, and making decisions. which, again, isn’t necessarily bad, but it’s not horror-- it’s a thought exercise with an apocalyptic garnish

EDIT-- I forgot to say, I think this is part of why MAG200 simply didn’t hit me the same way it hit others. it was intellectually satisfying-- it tied up loose ends, closed character arcs/relationships, left some delicious ambiguity-- but not emotionally cathartic, if that makes sense? like, I was expecting to cry, but I didn’t even rly get teary? I was grinning and delighted by all the satisfying conclusions, but I didn’t feel that emotional RELEASE that I was expecting and hoping for

as for jonmartin, I want to be clear here. I am NOT one of those ppl that thinks jonmartin came out of nowhere in s4-- I think the buildup pre-s5 was excellent, and their finally being together at the end of s4 was so so earned and rewarding. I’m also NOT one of those ppl that thinks arguments = abuse. I think when I briefly criticized jonmartin in s5 in the past, ppl got this impression that like, I think that jonmartin miscommunicating and having bad coping mechanisms... means that they’re bad for each other and abusing each other? and that’s just not the case??

I admit that my initial response to some of the jonmartin weirdness may have been a bit harsh, but even at the time I still loved jonmartin and was simply looking at their relationship with a critical but loving lens

what I have a problem with is that Martin pulls just as much bullshit as Jon in s5, and NEVER gets called out for it

this post I made a while back gets more into the details that bother me, but essentially, there’s always been this rly uneven “accountability scale” (idk what else to call it) for Jon vs. a lot of other characters-- in that, Jon always gets called out for his bullshit, while a lot of other characters don’t. now a lot of this is perfectly explainable as Jon being the main character, so we simply see his fuck-ups AND the subsequent consequences more often than any other character. and there are plenty of characters that I absolutely do NOT blame for going a bit overboard (I give Melanie and Tim in particular a ton of leeway here, given their respective situations. they more or less have full rights to bully Jon imo)

but, the problem is, there are also a LOT of moments where other characters say something absolutely horrific to Jon (namely Basira and Georgie in s4), like imply that he’s responsible for problems he had absolutely no control over, or fucking blame him for literally being groomed into an Archivist by people/powers he couldn’t even grasp... and those accusations are just left to sit and fester in Jon, completely uncontested

the nice thing abt s5 is that most of this is addressed-- like Basira’s completely unfair double-standards for “monsters”, and Georgie unknowingly blaming Jon for his trauma, etc.-- in very satisfying ways.

.... except for Martin.

without rehashing that linked post too much, Martin’s main problem in s5 is that his go-to response to trauma is denial. he denies the fact that he wants to kill avatars for his own satisfaction (which is a completely reasonable desire on its own tbqh!), and instead continues to lie to himself (for quite a long time) that killing avatars is actually helping anyone but Jon and Martin. he denies that Jon’s become a real full-fledged “monster”, and refuses to acknowledge all the baggage that comes with that

this denial unintentionally projects a lot of rly fucked-up messages at Jon, like: Jon is now a freaky horrorshow (even when he’s doing something completely innocuous, like talking casually about his powers); Jon’s fears over losing his autonomy/identity to the Eye, and his fears over his proven abilities to hurt others, are invalid; monsters inherently deserve to die, despite Jon technically being one; Jon not being able to use his powers “well enough” is some failure on his part

now, none of this is to say Martin’s characterization on its own is a bad thing-- I actually think it could’ve been interesting! it’s a perfectly reasonable trauma response, it tracks for Martin’s character pre-s5, and could have been a rly interesting perspective to explore.... if it was ever actually challenged by the narrative or other characters

I think the closest we got was Martin’s conversation with himself in his own domain, when his double calls him out for fantasizing a happy ending where Jonah is dead and Jon and Martin kiss (OUGH.... JONNY YOU HURT ME..), but that still never rly addresses the hurt that Martin’s denial causes Jon

and god, I was rly holding out-- Martin seemed to chill out on the denial a lot after the first third of the season, and I was hoping it might go a similar route as Basira, where it would just take a while to rly address Martin’s issues. but then Jon and Martin have their argument in MAG194, and I was fully on Martin’s side of it, UNTIL he said, “You weren’t meant to enjoy it this much!” (in reference to Jon killing avatars), and when Jon calls him out, Martin just brushes over it!

BOY when I tell you I went BALLISTIC.... FUCK YOU Martin, YOU’RE the one that went all Kill Bill and PUSHED Jon to feel the same way!! JESUS. like I get that that wasn’t the core of the argument there, but oh my god that one bit...

and once again, to make myself perfectly fucking crystal clear here, this is coming from someone who relates heavily to both Jon and Martin. I can see exactly where Martin is coming from for many of his decisions, and the trauma that’s led him to mentally protect himself like this. so it only makes me more frustrated to see him refuse to face his own issues, while still (understandably) expecting Jon to face his issues. yes, Jon pulls a LOT of bullshit in s5 that he deserves to be called out for (and called out he is!), but accountability goes both ways, Martin! you can’t demand responsible behavior from others if you’re not willing to extend the same courtesy!

#the magnus archives #shut up ashley #tma

12 notes · View notes

wolftraps · 3 years

Text

As always

Another extra from The Reverb in These Holy Halls. Just because Sasha’s a fear monster now doesn’t mean she’s going to let Tim stop being her friend. But also, Sasha “in this house we love and support Jon Sims” James isn’t here for Tim’s grudges.

—

Three months or so after the Unknowing. After they’d all gotten pizza and got mostly drunk and pretended for the night that they were all friends and everything was fine. After Tim had handed in his resignation and closed a chapter in his life he was beginning to think would never end with a strong determination never to reopen it. Three months after all that, Tim comes home to find her in his flat.

She smiles at him, in such a familiar way, and it should make him angry, he thinks, like he was with the thing that took Danny. Angry and afraid. He’s not though. Mostly he’s just tired. Tired and sad. He drops his wallet and keys on the side table and locks the door behind him. It’s not like this thing uses normal entrances.

He purposely doesn’t look at her and she sighs. “Tim—”

“Don’t,” he snaps. “Don’t tell me you’re her, because you’re not.”

“I’m not… not her,” she hedges.

Incredulity forces him to face her. “That… that doesn’t even make any sense!”

“Yes, that’s… kind of the point.”

“Of what?” He really shouldn’t ask. He really should know better.

“Me? I guess? Whatever I am. Sense is meant to be… twisted, and coiled, and looped back on itself. For me.” Her fingers twist around themselves, and Tim can’t watch too long without getting dizzy. He shuts his eyes.

“I can’t tell if I’m pissed off or just confused.”

“Both, probably. I just… We were never going to be what you wanted us to be. But I couldn’t just let you… mourn me, and pretend I’m not here. I didn’t kill Sasha, Tim. Sasha became me.”

Tim scoffs. “Yeah, like Jon became that thing he is now. ‘The Archivist’.”

“Y— Well, yes? And also no. Jon’s change was more gradual—”

“The hell it was! Maybe for him, but he’s not the Jon I worked with. That I was friends with. That Jon was just— overwritten.”

“Is it really overwriting,” she asks, “if they were the same person to that point? Does it matter, if the Jon you’re talking about would’ve have gone through the next four years in the exact same manner as this Jon did? Jon became what he is because that’s where he was pushed. You’re blaming him for being changed by his experiences.”

“I’m no—”

“You are. You feel personally betrayed because the end result of his trauma isn’t who you remember from before it. If this Jon hadn’t come back, we’d both be dead by now. And you’d have hated him all the same.” Her voice is sharp but annoyingly level. That’s always…

“... aren’t you not supposed to make sense?” he grumbles.

“Well, if I don’t knock some into you, who’s going to? Jon?” She sighs, picking at her fingers. “I am… less Sasha, than the Archivist is Jon. But Jon’s change happened without his understanding. As Sasha, I chose this, knowing what I was doing.”

“You could be lying,” Tim says, swallowing down the bitter taste in his mouth.

“I could,” she agrees with a grin. “If I was, you might never know. I’m very good at it.”

“Not exactly the answer I was looking for.”

“Yes, but if I told you that, it would be a lie.” There’s a slight ringing in his ears, like the chuckle she’s trying to contain behind that smile can’t help but seep through. Part of him wants to laugh as well, the other part is trying to remember that trick to get rid of tinnitus.

Eventually he drops himself into a chair and lets the force expel the air from his lungs. Not quite a sigh. Not quite resignation. Not quite a roll of his eyes. “Alright, fine. Then why?”

“That’s hard to explain rationally. I made a statement about it,” she says brightly. “Two actually! You could listen to them if you want, I don’t mind.”

“I’m not going back to that place. Just… try.” She positions herself on the sofa, not so much sitting in it as draping herself over it, her legs just happening to end up curled on the cushions. And Tim knows that furrowed brow, that slight, contemplative frown. He doesn’t push. Sasha always… she’d always needed time to order her thoughts before she spoke. Never one to stutter through.

“Fear, I suppose.” Her whole head seems to roll with her eyes when he snorts, though it never actually moves. “Yes, I know, but… there’s no good way to describe it. No other word that fits so well. There were so very many feelings that led me to the decision. So many thoughts and rationalizations and doubts. But underneath it all, it was fear. Fear of never seeing Jon again; fear of him being hurt; fear of finding him too late, yes. But also fear of my own helplessness; fear of how easy it would be to be a victim— just another unfortunate statement-giver, and fear of not having the power to help when the time came. Fear that, in a job like that, the End would find me too soon. Fear of losing myself. Fear of being too afraid to risk it. Fear of my own stubbornness keeping me from adapting like I needed to. Fear of what it would mean, once I figured it all out. Fear that I never would, and it would eat away at me. Fear that, underneath it all, I didn’t want to figure it all out. Fear of how that desperation to just be lost pulled at me, and fear of what I’d be if I didn’t answer it.” The words come faster and faster until it’s hard to distinguish what she’s saying, though the sentiment still gets through. She takes a breath and sits back from where she’d starting leaning toward him. It’s painfully familiar.

“I was so full of contradictory fears, and it kept chipping away at me, at my reason. And then Michael told me he was going to kill Jon, and for just a moment it all stopped and it all hit me at once. And I thought ‘Can I really do this?’ and I knew I could. I wanted to. Maybe there were better ways— ways that kept me more me— but this was the one before me. This was the quickest, the most decisive, the most useful, and if I hesitated, there was no guarantee I’d get another chance. So I took it.”

“Not to be a self-centered ass, but what about me?” His voice is thick, trying to catch in his throat. “Did you even consider what it would do to me, to see this happen to you?”

“Yes. Of course. You’re my best friend.” He scoffs through the tears, and she smacks his arm, chiding, like she always did, though she should be too far to be able. “You are. Jon, Martin… they’re my family now. There’s a bond there that I don’t think even Jon could describe. But I think… you’re why I’m still Sasha.”

“Sorry, what? No—”

“Yes. Do you know how easy it would’ve been? To just let myself go? To become just a- a dye on the yarn, rather than a strand in the braid?” It should be rhetorical, but she just waits, and Tim thinks she’s been around Martin too long. Though maybe Martin got it from her, rather than the other way around. It’s been years now, Tim can barely remember what mannerisms she had before the Archives.

“Easy, I assume?”

“So easy, Tim! So. Easy. But I didn’t! I stayed mostly me!” Sasha pauses and tilts her head slightly. “Well… partly. At least half!”

“And you think that’s good enough?” Tim still can’t shake that bitter taste… or is it sour?

“I hope it is.” The words sound flat. Not without emotion but… without that unnatural reverberation that makes the world tilt. They sound… human. They sound like Sasha. “I really, really hope it is.”

It fucking hurts. It hurts that she’s gone. It hurts that she left him behind. It hurts that there is something sitting in his flat, with her face, asking— if he’s reading it right— to be friends. It hurts that it’s not really her. And it hurts that it is. There are differences. Countless differences. But the way she talks, moves, smiles… it’s all Sasha, turned up to eleven. It hurts how much he wants this. And he’s so, so sick of that bitter taste.

“I can’t just go back to how things were,” he chokes out. “I can’t just pretend you’re the same person I knew before.”

“No,” she agrees. “No, of course not. We could start small, though, maybe? Get lunch sometime? Make awkward conversation over and over until it eventually becomes natural?”

“Do you even eat anymore?” Tim has to ask.

“I… ate the pizza?” This seems like the sort of thing she should’ve thought about earlier, but he supposes she has had other things on her mind. “And I still like coffee. So… probably? I don’t need it, but I think I can still enjoy it. Maybe. I’m really curious to find out now.”

Of course she is. And that thought is what decides him.

“Okay,” he says. “Lunch then. On Thursday.”

Sasha perks up and grins. “Really?! Oh! That’s great! Lunch on Thursday! Right. I’ll- I’ll let you be, then, and see you Thursday. I’d give you a hug, but—”

“Please don’t.” Her laugh still makes him flinch, but she doesn’t try to contain it this time.

What she does can’t be called standing so much as unfolding, but whatever she does, she gets up from his couch and goes to a yellow door on his outer wall that definitely shouldn’t be there. Tim drops his head to his hands and rubs his temples.

“… Thank you, Tim,” she says, but doesn’t seem to mind that he doesn’t respond as the door swings open with an eerie creak. Just before she steps fully inside, she stops. “Oh… Tim?”

“Yes,” he asks, trying to remember if he still has any paracetamol anywhere.

“When is Thursday?”

#tim stoker #sasha james #tma #my writing #my tma fic #reverb ficlet #reverb #not technically a sad #distortion!sasha #the reverb in these holy halls

41 notes · View notes

equalseleventhirds · 4 years

Text

THEORY: the line between fear-monster and fear-avatar is not as clean as we pretend. as in, can we really be sure that the so-called monsters were never human (or animal, or bits of human/animal)?

yes, creatures like the not-them and the monster pig and the angler fish seemed essentially unkillable (leitner said the not-them could not be killed, only contained; gertrude had the pig encased in concrete bcos supposedly it couldn’t be killed; daisy shot at ‘sarah baldwin’ and didn’t kill her). but how does that differ from avatars like oliver banks, who comes back to life, or john amherst, who had to be likewise encased in cement, or jonathan archivist himself, who is p much undead? there are different rules for different avatars, so who’s to say the monsters aren’t like them? and, well, the angler fish seems to have died at the unknowing, and it turns out the not-them can be killed.

and jonny mentioned in a q&a that the monster pig was a monster bcos it just appeared rather than being made from existing pigs. sure, that’s word of god, but i’m killing the author: if, say, annabelle cane just fucking showed up somewhere and started doing spider shit, to the outside observer she would seem to have Just Appeared, even tho she was human before and then became monstrous and then showed up somewhere else. we can’t know the monster pig was not a normal pig like, a hundred years ago, became a flesh avatar, and has been wandering around sneaking into pig pens and terrorizing people for ages. we just never got its origin story bcos survivor’s bias.

there’s also been discussion that becoming an avatar requires a choice. where does that put someone like agnes? she made no choice. she wasn’t a traditional fear monster as we’ve come to know them; she also didn’t fit into the avatar mold. we could say fear-touched, but the desolation did more than touch her, it was her. so what was she?

and simon fairchild, when asked about the monsters, responds initially with ‘what monsters?’ he only comes up with his response about ‘imagine a hand’ when martin elaborates that he means ‘things like the distortion’ (which is interesting, since michael and helen both specifically were human once, and became the distortion through a choice, unaware and unknowing the consequences as they were, and thus would be both traditionally be avatars.) (simon is a liar and a conman, i’m saying. simon told martin what he thought martin was prepared to hear and understand. simon’s also older than smirke’s fourteen and prolly would have some shit to say about that, perhaps.)

what i’m saying is, join me in my new concept, partially inspired by 165, of the not-them starting out as a human, cast out in some way by society, who stole identities, took on new names, wore costumes and makeup and disguises, and gradually became the monster we now know.

in 165 the not-them was furious at being known. and i think the poem-statement jon spoke, the experiences of the riders on the merry go round, might have originally belonged to the not-them.

‘a world where if you’d wish to have a name it must be stolen, carved and pulled full-bloody from the frame of others who would wish in vain to hold their selfness close. you want a face? take it. there are so many here, and those who cannot hold them, well, whoever chose to give them such a gift must take the blame, knowing they could never keep it in a world of so much thieving strangeness.’

‘and soon enough they will forget they ever had one.’

#tma spoilers #the magnus archives #every day i am making theories that directly contradict both fanon and canon #but with evidence ok. with evidence.#...look when jon first learned abt the not-them the mythology of changelings was mentioned #and there are many historical theories about changelings including: neurodivergent children being rejected #and also mothers with untreated post-partum depression #BOTH of these theories are relevant to My Life so yes i AM projecting at the not-them #do i hate the not-them for what it did to sasha? yes absolutely #do i think it deserves a similar horrifying fear trauma backstory as the various horrible monstrous fear avatars? ummm yeah #'it's just awful bcos it's a monster' will never be a satisfying narrative for me. let it have a sympathetic angle AND be horrible and hated #(pls note this is different from jonah fucking magnus who is horrible not bcos he's a fear monster #but bcos he's an upper-class man from the days of the british empire who's still trying to rule the world)

142 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

rcapwriting

RCap.writing

nc-17

krispycollectivesoul

Untitled

krispycollectivesoul

Untitled

rddykilowatt

AVERAGE MULTIFANDOM BLOG