#MENTIONING THE POLICE TO BASIRA

[stardustcleaningguy]

CAUGHT UP ON TMAGP WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr || AO3 || My Website

Chapter 104: March 2018

Daisy never thought she would be thankful for friends. Actually, she never thought she would have friends to be thankful for; closest thing she ever had anymore was a partner. And truthfully, she still wasn’t sure she could honestly call the Archives crew her friends. But Jon had actually climbed into the pit to find her, Tim had hugged her and welcomed her back, and Martin had made up a bed for her in the Archives without question, or even really asking her if she needed it, like he knew she did but that she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to ask for it. Sasha had lent her some spare clothes, then gone to get her some of her own, and while Melanie was the most wary and distrustful out of all of them, she had placed an enormous orange and white cat on her lap, which had promptly curled up and gone to sleep, and which Jon said was a pretty big peace offering. Even Gerard had told her to call him Gerry, although she hadn’t quite taken him up on that yet; she was still getting used to not calling all of them by their surnames. If they weren’t friends, they were the nearest thing she’d had in a long time.

Probably what surprised her the most, actually, was Martin telling her, bit offhanded, that she could keep calling him “Blackwood” if she liked. She’d brushed him off at the time, but that night while she’d been lying on the makeshift bed they’d made up for her, staring in the direction of the ceiling and listening to the others breathe around her, the realization of what he’d actually meant had hit her like a ton of bricks. Daisy had spent most of her adult life in one police station or another, and while people didn’t often get to be friends, you knew you’d got respect from the people around you when they dropped the job titles and just started calling you by your surname. Basira was the only one who’d ever insisted on going on a first-name basis with her, but they were partners, the first one she’d ever had for more than six months, so that made sense. There in the dark of the Archives, Daisy had almost started crying, for the first time in years, because someone she’d actively been planning to kill less than a year ago had been kind without making a big deal of it and offered to let her relate to them on her own terms rather than making her relate on theirs.

He’d been the easiest to start calling by first name.

She wasn’t a cop anymore. Even if she hadn’t more or less been declared dead, she didn’t feel like a cop anymore. She’d never joined to make a difference or help people—that was bullshit, anyone who said they’d joined for that was either lying or hopelessly naive. Daisy had joined to hunt down “bad guys”, but it had been about the hunt, not about the bad guys; she’d never particularly cared why she was after someone, only with actually going after them, and the longer she’d been on the force the more it had been about hunting the people and justifying why after. She knew now that that had been a powerful fear entity or god or…whatever it was, but she also knew that it hadn’t come from nowhere, that it had moved in to justify a whole lot of bad things. Tempting as it was to blame the way she’d been on the blood—the Hunt, the others called it—she knew she couldn’t. All it had done was give her an edge in what she’d wanted to do anyway.

But now it was gone. Well, not gone; she could still hear it on the edges if she let herself, and once she started letting herself hear it, it got a lot closer than that. It was one of the reasons she didn’t like being alone these days, the other being the endless months of isolation underground; when there weren’t other people around to focus on, the surging blood and choking mud competed for her attention. She didn’t want it back, though, that was the thing. It had been all she’d known for so long that she’d forgotten what she was like without it, but she wanted to learn.

She just needed to stop the shaking first.

Daisy’d seen her fair share of people coming down from highs and hangovers or going through withdrawal as they detoxed, so she knew what it looked like. She knew, too, how easy it was to nudge someone into breaking sobriety, even pushed a few over the edge so she could arrest them. Cut off enough avenues to go straight and the most well-intentioned ex-junkie would be right back at it. It shamed her, now, how many people she’d done that to, how many people would be productive members of society today if she hadn’t toyed with them. If this were a traditional detox, one of those twelve step program things, she’d have a long list of people for that eighth step.

Her mum had done it, she remembered. Or tried to, anyway. Couldn’t quite remember if it had been drugs or alcohol or both, she’d been a kid at the time, young enough that she was still Alice, but she vaguely remembered something about a car accident and an injured kid, and her grandfather saying something about how lucky she was the judge had given her a chance to get sober instead of throwing her in jail for the rest of her life. And to her credit, she’d tried. Made it more than halfway through the steps, even. But then she’d hit the stage where she was supposed to ask forgiveness, and she’d hit a wall. She’d ranted well into the night about how she’d done everything right, everything they asked her to, and still no one would accept her apologies, no one would forgive her. In the end, it had been too much, and she’d fallen off the wagon…and a rooftop.

Daisy had been Daisy by then, and old enough to be cynical. She’d decided apologizing was for weaklings, that nobody would forgive you no matter what you did, so it was better to just do things and live your life without worrying what other people thought of it. It hadn’t been until fairly recently that she’d even started thinking differently. Being buried with loads of time to think had started it, but a couple weeks back, just out of curiosity, she’d looked up the twelve steps. Most of it was bullshit—Daisy had never believed in a benevolent God and sure as hell hadn’t experienced anything in the last few years that would change her mind—but it was the ninth step, the one her mum had stumbled over, that had caught her attention. It referred back to the list you were supposed to have made of the people you’d hurt while you were in the throes of your addiction: Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

Make amends. Not ask forgiveness. In fact, forgiveness wasn’t mentioned once in any of the steps. Which made sense, Daisy guessed. Recovery was supposed to be about you, not about other people. You recovered by fixing what you’d done wrong, not by asking other people to let it go.

What was it Martin had said when she was interviewing him—interrogating him really—after the old man’s murder…had it only been a year ago? We both need to learn how to do it on our own terms or it’s never going to stick. She hadn’t really known what he was talking about then, but she sure as hell did now. Martin was right.

Only she hadn’t learned, and now the person she’d been relying on was somewhere she couldn’t get at her, and Daisy was afraid. Afraid she’d missed her only chance to get right. Afraid of what she was becoming, could become, might not be able to stop herself from being. Afraid there wasn’t anything to her other than the Hunt. Afraid the only way out of this was death.

Afraid she would never see Basira while she was her own woman again.

She’d spent most of the first week roaming the Institute looking for Basira, after Tim had come back down from her office perplexed and worried and said he couldn’t seem to find her. Daisy had been sure she would have better luck—after all, she knew Basira better, and surely Basira would want to see her—but it hadn’t happened and she’d had a little bit of an internal breakdown over it. Martin had finally been the one to find her, but he hadn’t been very encouraging or forthcoming about it, had only said that he let her know Daisy was back. Daisy had tried again, not as often but at least every other day, since that point, and had been increasingly more distressed and heartbroken that she kept avoiding her.

But Tim had come in that morning and said, rather cryptically, that he thought she might have better luck today, and Martin had given her a few tips, and the long and the short of it was that here she was, lurking in a back corridor and waiting.

She closed her eyes and tried to follow Martin’s instructions: to focus on the moments with Basira that had made them close. Riding together in the patrol car. Going out for drinks. Their official Section Thirty-One case prior to the Institute. The lift to Basira’s chin, the pride on her face, when Daisy got promoted to CID. The smirk and the roll of her eyes when Daisy tried to get her to listen to the Archers with her. The first time she’d come over to Daisy’s flat and taken her headscarf off. She didn’t really want to, but she made herself add the moment in the clearing when Basira had stopped her from outright murdering Jon—the moment Basira had given up on walking away from all this bullshit and sacrificed herself for Daisy’s sake. There would have been no going back for her if she’d killed Jon in that moment, and somehow, Basira had known, had saved her. Daisy had to do the same.

Wait. Were those footsteps?

Something in Daisy’s chest warmed, ever so slightly, the way it always did when Basira was nearby. She drew in a quick breath, let it out in a slow, silent exhale, and stepped out into the corridor.

“Hey,” she said.

Basira stood in front of her, stock still, her expression totally flat and emotionless—she’d always been good at that blank, give-nothing-away stare, it made her a real pain in the ass to play poker with. Daisy, for her part, was shocked, and it probably showed on her face. Basira looked…desaturated was the only word she could come up with. Washed out. Like someone had applied a video filter to her that flipped her warm undertones to cool ones and lowered the contrast. Her eyes had gone dull, her skin had gone slightly ashen, and her hair had lost all its luster. That was the biggest shock—Daisy could see her hair. Or what was left of it, anyway. She’d hacked it into an Eton crop, short above her ears and slicked flat against her head, and she wasn’t wearing her headscarf. It wasn’t even hanging around her neck like it usually did when she pushed it back while they were relaxing; there was no sign of it anywhere. She wore the world’s most boring and inoffensive black pant suit and a pair of ballet flats that even Daisy could tell would barely make a sound under ordinary circumstances. How she’d heard her coming was anybody’s guess.

Maybe it was just that she’d wanted to hear her so badly.

“Daisy. Hi,” Basira said, her voice as flat and noncommittal as her face.

Daisy wrapped her arms around her chest, a bit self-consciously. A year ago she’d have been furious with herself for feeling this way, but…well, maybe she deserved it. “I…I haven’t seen you.”

“Yeah. Been busy.” Basira’s tone of voice never changed.

Which was fair, Daisy supposed. “Yeah, uh…working for Peter Lukas, right? That’s what…that’s what the others said.”

Basira shrugged. “Something like that, yeah.”

This conversation was like pulling teeth. Talking to Basira had never been so hard before. Daisy pushed ahead. “Are you…how have you been?”

“Fine. Busy,” Basira repeated. “Lots to do. Look, I’ve got to go.”

“W-wait.” Daisy took a hesitant step towards Basira. She wasn’t a small woman—at least she wasn’t short, she’d lost weight and muscle being buried but she was still six feet tall—but she felt shrunken, and Basira…well, Basira wasn’t exactly standing tall and proud, but she seemed somehow above Daisy. “I—I missed you, partner.”

“We’re not partners.” The words cut across the space like the throwing knives that were probably still locked in Daisy’s car, wherever it was. “Not anymore. We’re not even colleagues.” Basira took a step to the side, very pointedly. “I have to go.”

Something akin to panic was starting to rise in Daisy’s words. Basira didn’t sound cold. Daisy could have dealt with cold, cruel, any of it. She just sounded…flat. Neutral. She wasn’t trying to be hurtful, she was just stating a fact. They weren’t partners, they weren’t colleagues, they weren’t anything. Simple, logical fact.

“We used to be,” she said, struggling to keep her voice calm and under control, but the shaking was obvious. “Look—I’m not, I won’t get in your way, I just…missed you. I, I wanted to see for myself you were okay.”

Basira shrugged. “You can see that I am.”

“You’re—” She wasn’t okay. She was so obviously not okay. Daisy struggled to explain it. Finally, she just gestured at Basira’s head helplessly. “Your scarf?”

“Don’t need it. Who is there to care?” Basira twisted slightly to slip past Daisy and continue down the corridor. “Good to see you again, Daisy.”

“Basira—” Daisy began desperately, turning to follow her, and then stopped. The corridor was empty. The tiny flicker of warmth in her chest was gone. Basira had vanished.

Daisy stood alone in the empty corridor, staring at the spot where Basira should have been, her thoughts whirling in a thousand different directions. She’d asked Basira once, after she’d taken her truncheon to the skull of a bastard who’d called her a particularly vile slur, why she still wore the headscarf if she wasn’t religious; that had been one of the first things they’d learned about each other, back when they were still PCs Tonner and Hussain, that they were both atheists, and Daisy just hadn’t ever asked about the scarf until then. Basira had stared out the window of the patrol car for a few minutes, then admitted it was for her dad.

He was a real man of faith, my dad, she’d said quietly. Real big on the teachings of Allah and Muhammad and the lot of it. All that sort of thing was important to him. I don’t worry about most of it, like the praying and the not drinking and all that, but the whole thing about keeping part of yourself hidden and secret except around people who really deserve it…yeah, I’ll do that for him.

Daisy’s dad had been murdered when she was young, and her grandparents had both died when their house burned down inexplicably not long after she got her first Section Thirty-One, so she’d empathized with Basira for losing her own dad, assuming that, like Daisy, she was alone in the world. It hadn’t been until a lot later when she’d been on a totally unrelated case and met a young woman with Basira’s eyes who’d turned out to be her baby sister that she’d learned Basira actually had an enormous, sprawling family spread out over the greater London area, she just wasn’t in contact with any of them—Fariha al-Amin had been shocked to learn Basira was a cop. It was Basira’s choice…she thought…but it was still a bit of a shock to learn that she didn’t have to be alone. Or that her scarf didn’t have to be her last connection to the father she’d obviously loved.

Who is there to care? Well, statistically, a lot of people; it wasn’t very likely Basira’s entire family was gone now, and they’d all seemed pretty religious, so they’d be scandalized and heartbroken if they found out she was discarding the last of her outward signs of faith. They probably thought about her and prayed for her anyway, even if she didn’t acknowledge them or think there was anything listening to those prayers. But also…Basira cared. It was why she’d worn it in the first place. If she’d stopped caring…

If she’d stopped caring, then she was losing herself, too.

Daisy shivered. The blood sang to her, tempting her, telling her that it would give her the edge she needed, oh yes, let her sense, let her scent, help her to find Basira again and force her to stay, if only she would just let it…and on the other side was the rattle of falling dirt and the gurgle of rising mud and the choking, suffocating coldness and the pressure, the pressing on all sides, the feeling of being down, of being trapped, there isn’t even an up…

“Daisy, breathe.”

Martin’s voice cut through the voices and the pressure and she took a deep breath, then another. Some of the tightness eased back and she looked up to see Martin, his face creased in concern, standing a few feet away and holding out his hand—not touching her, just waiting for her. “Come on. Let’s head back down to the Archives, yeah?”

Slowly, hesitantly, Daisy reached out and took Martin’s outstretched hand. She winced at the rough, mottled feel of the burn scar, but she let him guide her back to the main part of the Institute, down the three flights of stairs, and into the Archives. Once there, he simply ushered her straight into his office and handed her a cup of tea that was still warm. She wrapped both hands around it and tried not to shake.

Martin picked up another mug of tea and sat behind his desk, looking up at her seriously. “Did you find her?”

“Yeah,” Daisy said, her voice rough. “She’s…she’s not okay. She said she was, but…”

“I know. The Lonely has her pretty bad.” Martin sighed heavily. “I wish there was something I could do to get her out.”

“Can’t you?” Daisy meant it to sound challenging, but it just sounded plaintive.

Martin shook his head regretfully. “Not yet. Not without understanding what she’s doing for Peter Lukas. I can’t See how tightly she’s bound to it, so I don’t know if I can rip her away from it without hurting her. And honestly, if you couldn’t get her to step out of it, I doubt I could right now. Not without breaking something beyond repair.” He studied her seriously. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

Daisy did. She really, really did. She nodded slowly. “Yeah. Can…can we do it on one of your tape recorders?”

Martin’s expression softened. He nodded. “Yeah, Daisy. We can absolutely do that.”

[sleepybugeyes]

I read through all of Elias/Jonah's dialogue (as you do) plus some relistening and mentions of him, so here's a big list of some fun things and behaviors I noted!

I thought he made a lot of eye puns/jokes, but he only does it once in mag161, however he does enjoy making jokes. "Creativity never was their forte." from mag80, "You want my account? My sworn testimony? My statement?" from 82, "If you die, I’m afraid you probably won’t be able to claim your expenses." in 116 and "I only have two eyes, after all." in 120. no one ever laughs at his jokes only he finds them amusing

His last words telling Jon a sarcastic or mocking "good luck" are mirrored earlier as he also tells Basira good luck the last time he sees her, and Martin, as he's getting arrested

He loves gloating. "I forget how new you all are to this." from mag92, "Coffee is not as good for disguising tastes as you might think." in 98, "She’s hoping that even if I see it coming she’ll still be able to overpower me. She’s wrong, of course," in 102, "A masterpiece, isn’t it?" abt his panopticon in 158 and of course his whole monologue in 160

He does his budgeting on tuesdays and his scheduling on wednesdays

He also likes getting lost in work

in mag40 he makes up proper incompetency (said he didnt know how the fire system works, while he later admits he was actively waiting) just that once, but more so he acts like he doesnt get the full picture (doesnt know whats in the tunnels, whats strange about the institute) or acts too late and apologises (not stepping into jon's stalking behaviour). Which makes me think he is quite fine letting people think less of him but unless he has something to hide hes not actively looking to give the impression

in mag92 elias slides the papers for basira across his desk, but you don't hear him take them out before, meaning he prepared and got ready for this before he called the police

in general he's a very preparing man, Lukas steps in when Elias is arrested so has has control over who'd run it. in mag118 he says he prepared something to hurt martin (my speculation is that he likely has some trauma that could hurt you prepared for any person that could cross him, just in case he needs it). When he gets arrested he has something prepared so he doesnt get killed and ofc s1-4 is preparing Jon for his grand ritual

Elias admits the idea for his ritual kinda fell into place after Getrude didnt do anything about the people's church in march 2015. He shot Getrude and appointed Jon shortly after so "when you came to me already marked by the Web, I knew it had to be you." is pure dramatics as Jon was hired 4 years prior

also he got his ritual in 2018 so he managed to acomplish his life's goal in only 3 years, love his grindset 🔥

We never get a number for how many people Elias has killed in his ritual, the real life millbank has held over 1000 people at once, but id imagine his one panopticon held less than a whole complex

its really interesting to me in mag92 that hes SO sure they all know he's talking to them of his own free will. is he just that dead set on being in control or making sure they take no credit for his confession

there is a clock in Elias' office (but it's only heard in mag98)

He has killed people but Elias is very much not a blood thirsty person. Getrude and Peter are both surprised when he results to that. He's very much just ruthless and does not care, if to get his way he has to kill someone. It doesnt seem like he's ever happy to do so, maybe this is a quirk of being eye aligned and getting rid of any type of knowledge is painful (he does for example never want Tim to die at the Unknowing), or he just finds covering those murders up a hassle

for the Unknowing Elias books them all hotel rooms, how thoughtful

something cute to me that Jon was too good at the Eye that Elias couldnt meet him face to face post coma

In mag158 he implies that even Institute employees not in the archives are tied to it, at least enough that they could suffer or die if it burned down

between finding other people just as tools to watch and discard and saying empathy holds you back he was definitely a very very lonely man

He is a very breathy person. He sounds breathy when he talks. He takes deep breaths to ready himself and before he uses his powers. And he often breathes through his nose before speaking or during pauses

He has said Jon's name 62 times, only twice calling him "Jonathan" and called him archivist 25 times (24 in the mag120 statement, 1 in mag138 and 1 in mag161)(he also kinda calls him The Archive in 160)

other fun amount of words: know (65 times), see (42), martin (35), detective (20), eyes (20) and eye (9), afraid (9) and "bullshit" (1)

its still insane to me they added all of those sound effects of Elias' cuffs in prison, thats something fun to appreciate. It also means its canon he gestures quite a bit!

[annabelle--cane]

intrigues me that celia found basira with no mention of daisy, indirectly implying that they aren't in close proximity to each other. in archives, basira says that she was going to quit the police before getting sectioned, so maybe in this universe she got out before anything spooky happened? also, bringing basira and helen up at the same time did make me automatically picture them as the world's worst roommates but that's beside the point.

[alice-blogs-things]

To me, what's interesting about this version of Helen is less that she still works in real estate, and more that so far she's the only TMA carryover who has the same job. Basira works at a school instead of with the police. Gerry is an artist and Gertrude is his grandmother. They've all appeared, in some demonstrable way, to be different from the characters we know. All except Helen, who has the same occupation as her TMA counterpart and in many ways still acts like someone connected to the Spiral. The only other character I can think of who's similar is Georgie, who's still running a podcast. But even then, we don't know if it's remotely similar to What The Ghost, and there's been no mention of Melanie or the Admiral so far, so we don't know how similar her life is to the Georgie we know.

[initial-lime]

Hey hey!!! You mentioned previously how Basira was very Dark aligned and I’m so curious to hear your reasoning even tho I partially agree

Hii!!!!! I think it’s mainly just the statements she’s paired with? There aren’t a LOT of dark statements but she usually appears along with the more “important” ones

Ofc her first appearance is in “section 31” which is a desolation statement, but here she also explains what the “section” is, a method of keeping information hidden and pretty close after that there’s “police lights” where she first hand deals with Reiner. Most notably she’s with Jon in the dark sun episodes, and then there’s also the fact that a lot of her character arc revolves around obfuscation

She has to see and acknowledge daisies crimes instead of ignoring them, she’s been kept in the dark and even when she isn’t she refuses to see. Almost all of the late season character arcs revolve around breaking away from the fears, Melanie leaves not only the slaughter but also the eye, Martin gets pulled out of the lonely etc. etc.

[just-an-enby-lemon]

The people are different versions but still exist in TMAGP and that absolutly is the one thing moving a very specific TMA AU.

Basically besides joining the Institute, Tim gets very into online supernatural foruns trying to find people with similar experiences. So one day he gets a mysterious mensage from someone about the "thing wearing my brother's skin". The e-mail is about a young lady that says something very similar happened to her and her uncle and she has been investigating similar stories since. They chat more and with Sasha advice Tim decides fuck it and meets the woman, both pretend it's a date.

Everything is well until Tim mentions working dor the Magnus Institute, she, who presented herself only by Gwen, pales and goes "oh you're one of them" and leaves after saying "I'm not playing his games. I'm not feeding him." Tim is very confused, he thinks maybe the Institue tried to investigate her case and failed. They are not in the archive yet so he asks Jon and Sasha with help without giving any detail, basically hoping Sasha conection with Gertrude means she has acess to the archives and Jon being way to into spending long nights working will help them sort whatever Sasha finds.

Except Sasha finds nothing. Until a random day were she comes up with a big grim and goes "you guys won't ever be abble to guess what I found out?" and open in a very funky web page advertising Gwendolyn Bouchard, paranormal lawyer. Sasha is laughting, Jon is ranting about what a paranormal lawyer would even be but Tim is like "oh shit, that's her".

He doesn't connect the dots at first. Or doesn't want to. But he keeps thinking about "I'm not feeding him" and he is like "random question what do you guys know about Elias" and Sasha goes research into it.

At this point he and Jon aren't close friends but they are friends and if their boss is one of the things that ate his brother he needs to figure out something. With the assumption Elias is a clown, Tim does actually notice how creepy Elias is with Jon and is fully "Jon won't belive me but Elias is totally into eating his insides or whatever". So he tells the truth to Sasha and tricks Jon into visiting Gwen's lawyer thing for answers.

I still did not figure out most of the other things, except that Alice and Gwen are together in this verse and Alice made the web design for Gwen's page. I also know I want alt Sam and I want just our Celia who keeps almost meeting them but never doing. Or even a Celia that came back and has a dificult time being at her world and interacting with different versions of people that mattered so much to her.

I don't know still what to do with Sam, because I think Martin was very clearly Jonah backup archivist and the thing is Elias will try to convince Jon Gwen is the crazy/evil one and either he'll suceed making Jon betray his friends and be the archivist but with different assistants (except Martin) or he won't and Martin will start as the archivist. And while backup archivist/archival assistant Sam makes sense I'm unsure I want that for him. I'm thinking maybe this version of Sam after failing to get into Oxford went into a "rebelious" phase instead of doubling down in trying to met his parents high expectations and ended up joining Melanie ghost hunting channel. But not sure.

Like if I actually go the route of Celia is back trying to find help for both her worlds a Sam that's not quite the Sam she knows/cares about would be interesting. Like he is deep down the same but also he isn't in some obvious ways and she might just miss her Sam more. But if this is an AU not as connected with Protocol than maybe a Sam that's pretty much our Sam but if he was in Archives would make sense. Idk.

And ofc Basira and Daisy that I'm always partial to but I have no clue how to add, except maybe with them starting as Gwen and Alice rivals because Gwen attorney bussiness interferes with their sectioned police work. Also Gwen being an attorney is a 100% because I fully think she was her normal manipulative rise to the top and keep the Bouchard's name girl and went into law school for it except she mets Alice and by the same period Jonah happens and she was close to Elias (even if in parts was because she looked better in the family eyes when they were together by comparison) and it changed everything.

I don't know a lot about Alice either but she was Lena's college roomate and atended classes with Colin (yes he is here as well, unsure what to do with him tho). She had a paranormal encounter that left a scar similar but in oposition to Georgie's where she has a "spider sense" sort of think and can feel when the fears are involved, she knows if a library or book fair has a Leitner and where for example. It happened when she was young and possibly involved meeting my boy Gerry but she tried to avoid the supernatural ever since. She was very reluctant over helping Gwen except she acidentaly overheard her talking to "Elias" and Jonah messed with her head. More importantly she knows that ignoring sometimes is worse because some secret involving her baby brother who may or may not have joined Grifters Bone and becamed a Slaughter Avatar.

The supernatural lawyer was a joke from Alice but Gwen took it seriusly and Alice was loke "really?" and guess this moron will need help to not die/became an avatar and became her paralegal (tho it had nothing to do with her actual college diploma).

[magpod-confessions]

I’m so sick of the whole attitude people in this fandom have of “If you think these female characters are pricks, why don’t you hate the male characters just as much? Obviously it’s just misogyny.” First off, quite often I DO also hate the male characters just as much as the female characters with similar behaviors. I hate both Melanie AND Tim. I think they’re both frustrating to listen to, because I don’t like people who make their anger everyone else’s problem, regardless of how justified that anger might be. I’m an equal opportunity hater, and it’s very irritating to me when people assume otherwise.

Plus a lot of the male characters started out tolerable and then became more blatantly dickish over time, whereas characters like Basira, Daisy, and Melanie showed a lot of their most hateable traits (like being a cop or being an asshole to everyone around them) in the beginning and then got better over time. And it can be a lot easier to hold a grudge than it is to grow to hate a character you already like. Especially for me personally, because I’m very loyal to those who I like, but I’m really not the forgiving sort.

((CW for mentions of police brutality and SA) Plus, sometimes it’s just that some of the characters have shitty behaviors that feel more grounded in reality than others. As a kid, I was never told to be careful not to cross paths with a scary Eye man who will force me to tell him all my secrets. Because that’s not something that happens irl. But when I was younger, I WAS told not to fight back if an on-duty cop tried to rape me, because if they arrested me for assaulting an officer, it would be my word against theirs. So emotionally, I have a much stronger reaction to, say, Daisy doing police brutality than I do to Jon doing spooky shit, and I think I’m perfectly justified in that reaction.)

Anyways, I just want to be a hater in peace without having to try to prove that I don’t hate my entire gender. 90% of my favorite fictional characters are women. I’m allowed to have 3 fictional women who I don’t like.

.

[zabala0z]

S3 is once again killing me again with all the lore and I love it. School started up so I might be slower with my thoughts but I got episodes 92, 93, 94 and 95 to talk about!!!

MAG 92: Nothing Beside Remains

Elias makes me want to eat my phone, similar to that one guy from MAG 65 :) I was like screaming the whole time. Of course he can see everything, he literally called the police before Daisy came. I took that as "oh he has spies" but no he can see everything, I hate that. Is Jon eventually gonna get that ability or does The Eye give different gifts. Elias hasn't shown any "compellling" sort of power so I assume the latter. ALSO MORDECAI LUKAS?? I need to see a statement from a Lukas member cause what is up with that family, I'm dying.

Guess Basira is now working there. Hope Elias is paying her. the fact he won't tell Jon shit is so funny to me. So The Stranger is now, basically, the confirmed main villain. BBEG yknow? Mildly terrified, I hate circuses and mannequins so this season is gonna like body me

Not much to say on MAG 93 but whatever entity has the whole "gross shit" as its deal, I'm guessing this falls under it. Purple fungus, the obsessive cleaning, etc. Also yaaay Breekon and Hopes!! Again!11!! get out! Poor Georgie. Love her for being like "Do you even have qualifications??". Jons explanation helped me a lot because during Elias's explanations, I'm mostly just muttering curses to myself because I HATE Him. Avatars. Baller. So Jude Perry was the avatar of The Desolation (destruction, fire, etc) Michael Crew was the avatar of The Vast (sky??, emptiness, general loneliness) and then like Jon is an avatar and I'm guessing so is Elias. I think you can have more then one avatar but anyways.

MAG 94: Dead Woman Walking

Jon refereed to the entity as "The End" which, using my notes, was mentioned in Mary keys statement when gertrude asked where the book came from and Mary said "The End" and said she could never serve it, not finding death interesting. Wild that she can't feel fear anymore??? Like damn. This kinda read as someone in a depressive state in some form. Or like a nihilistic person. Cause like "everything ends, time, it has already ended". Wild.

Not much to say on MAG 95 but I did understand the context vaguely which is more then what I can say for the other war statements. Also Martin and Basira friendship??? Love it. She gets really engrossed in books. I dunno if she was like lying or this is something supernatural related but I love Basira

MAG 96: Return to Sender

Literally screeching oh my god. The fact these things just hijacked this mans business is almost funny. They also talked with a circus ringmaster. Nikola Orsinov? gregor Orsinov? A different one. the statement was given 1996 and Gregor was the leader around the 40's but Nikola, by her description I think, sounded young. So. Who was this ringmaster? Maybe Im getting the timeframe wrong. or they're like eternal. Maybe they like just shed skin and steal a new body, just going by the same last name- okay I don't know.

Also, SARAH BALDWIN???? Welcome back girl. The fact the gorilla skin was stolen by gertrude means she was trying to stop The Unknowing, and likely that's why its been this long for it to happen, because they need that skin. Ew. The Stranger loves skin a little too much. Also Sarah being filled with sawdust and cloves. Great. If Not Sasha was shot, would we have seen that? Or is it different with every one of those, NotThem.?

Anyways, I think that's everything. Every statement, I'm kinda thinking, "which entity does this fall under" now that I know the surrounding universe. Tough since I only know 6 by name and I think there's more. 6 too many entities for this world though

[tea-n-stuff]

It took me for Celia to mention police to realise it was Basira talking.

I fear this is part of why I never notices Sasha either

[witchinatree]

magnus protocols episode 24 ramble

so it's my birthdayyyy 💕💕💕💕‼️‼️‼️ and also the. the first day. of school. so i no longer get to watch the clock change to 11 and listen to the podcast with everyone else 🙁 first day of senior year though (LET ME OUT OF HERE)

oh i'm so excited i waited all day for this and have stayed off tumblr the whole time

gwenny :[ i love you

wtf no honey you're absolutely not going on another assignment?? wtf?? babe. babe. don't do this to yourself. nonononono stop have you ever heard of icarus???

also lena cares and i love her

the glitch on "thank you" ?? oh she doesn't want this and i don't either

OMG NORRIS HIIIIIII

nanny cam... why tf did you name your baby rupert that's an adult man name

oh wtf that's creepy your kid should have normal eyes

i'm worried. i am worried. i am worried. your baby should have a normal tongue.

see i don't like this because celia has a baby and i just want her to have one happy part in her life and please keep jack safe

OH SHIT WAIT WTF??? CELIA KNOWS THIS WOMAN

this baby loves celia and this baby is scaring me

this is just making me really sad like this mom loves her son and that's not her son and i'm hearing increasingly scary background noises and i hate this for me

BLOOD? YOUR BLOOD? HONEY. GET RID OF THAT BABY I'M SORRY THAT'S NOT A HUMAN BABY

these noises are becoming animal-like and i'm actually really unsettled. props to whoever wrote this because wtf.

health visitor's gotta be evil tOO WHAT TF A BABY SHOULD NOT MAKE THOSE FUCKING NOISES MAAM

YEAH I GOT THAT.

poor patricia :(

wtf is the baby eating her flesh hhhhhhhhhhhh stop the noises stop the NOISES i'm. i'm at a loss.

celia are you not addressing this. celia you were mentioned. did she get that statement? i don't know who got it

oh alice honey 😭😭😭 also fuck you sam. lowkey. what the hell man. i don't think i love him.

SHE'S SO SCARED AND I'M CRYING I'M TOO TIRED TO HOLD IT TOGETHER

SAM I FUCKING CANNOT WITH YOU I FUCKING HATE YOU RN SAM. CELIA I ADORE YOU PLEASE HELP US PLEASE

WHY DO YOU ONLY LISTEN WHEN IT'S CELIA??? ALSO WTF "what do we do about it?" MAYBE FUCKIN. LISTEN TO ALICE. SHUT UP MAN SHUT UP?? STFU???

GOD DAMMIT CELIA

I CAN'T WITH YOU

WTF BASIRA WTF BASIRA WTF BASIRA WTF BASIRA WTF BASIRA SHE'S?? SHE'S??? MY WIFE???? I'M CRYING AGAIN 🙁

hyperventilating. basira i'm in love with you deputy head of st. luke's.

WAS SHE EVER A POLICE OFFICER PLEASE TELL ME SHE WASN'T. OH MY GOD SHE GOT OUT SHE'S OKAY. PLEASE HAVE NO TIES TO THE INSTITUTE THIS IS THE BEST THING I'VE EVER HAD. BASIRA DEPUTY HEAD AU.

oh celia i know what you are celia i know what you are

bawling my eyes out genuinely bawling

rusty quill thank you and also wtf.

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

<< Beginning < Prev. || AO3

Chapter 30: September 2016

“…seventeen stitches, and they were keeping him a couple days to watch for infection,” Martin concluded, twisting around to see the other occupants of the car. “He’s supposed to be getting discharged this morning, though, so he’ll likely be back in the office on Wednesday.”

Sasha snorted. “Not tomorrow?”

“He has to get another note from his doctor first, I’m sure.”

Tim had insisted on giving Martin a ride in to work that morning, and Martin had acquiesced, partly because the transit route between the bookshop and the Institute was bloody inconvenient and partly because it meant they could talk, however briefly, before going in. (It also meant he got to see the look on Tim’s face when Gerry walked into the kitchen half-asleep and wearing nothing but his underpants, and the look on Gerry’s face when he realized that Tim, whom Martin had not informed him was coming over, was ogling him.) They had stopped to pick Sasha up from the coffee shop she usually popped into, having seen no reason to change her routine just because she’d met an eldritch abomination there once, and Martin had spent the last few minutes telling her about Melanie’s phone call from Friday night.

“Did he call Elias?” Tim asked, his mouth twisting into a sneer as he said the man’s name that Martin had only rarely seen. “Or are you going to have to do that?”

Martin shrugged. “I talked to Melanie, not Jon, but I don’t doubt for a minute that either Jon called Elias or Elias already knows.”

Sasha sighed. “I am not looking forward to working for someone who can just…pry into all my secrets at any time. Even if he hasn’t done it already.”

“Says the person who’s hacked every employment record at the Institute.” Tim pulled into a parking space and threw the car into park with an unnecessarily hard jerk of the gearshift.

For just a second, Martin saw the hurt in Sasha’s eyes, but she covered it up quickly. He thought about letting it slide, then decided, on the balance, no. “Hey, Tim, not cool, okay? Just because she looked at mine and Jon’s doesn’t mean she looked at yours too. Or anyone else’s.”

“How did you know I’d looked at Jon’s?” Sasha blurted, obviously startled.

“You called him out for lying about his age on his birthday last year. I figured you’d either read his file and seen his actual birth date or stolen his wallet at some point.” Martin unfastened the safety belt, then reached for his bag. “As for Elias, I have something for that.”

“Is it a projectile or something pointy?” Tim asked.

That Martin chose to ignore; Tim was clearly in a mood. Instead, he pulled two small objects out of his bag and held them out to Tim and Sasha, balanced on the palm of his hand. “Voila. That’s French for ‘ta-da.’”

It did, at least, make Tim crack a smile, and Sasha give that giggle-snort laugh of hers she only made when you truly surprised amusement out of her. She plucked one of them from Martin’s hand and turned it over a couple of times. “What is it?”

“I think it’s technically called an apotropaia, but that’s a pain in the ass to spell, so ‘talisman’ works.” Martin handed the other one to Tim. They were simple, small bits of leather sewn together in a tiny envelope about the size of a matchbook. Martin had spent several evenings patiently tracing the lines Gerry had kindly drawn for him with needle and thread while repeating the same poem over and over, and they were honestly as good as they were going to get. “Basically it’s a protective charm. It’s not…great, and it won’t work if you’re in the same room as him or if he tries really, really hard to get into your head, but it’ll at least keep you safe from…casual browsing, I guess. He’ll have to really try to see what you’re thinking.”

“Do you have one?”

“I’ve got something a bit more permanent.” Martin chose not to mention that it hadn’t been something he’d voluntarily put on himself. “And I know how to…guard my mind, sort of. We’ll help you guys with that, too, but this is a sort of stopgap measure.”

Tim rubbed the leather between his thumb and forefinger. “Is there somewhere special we should put it?”

Martin shook his head. “Nowhere special, just somewhere you won’t lose it. Melanie used to keep hers on a chain around her neck. I’d pin mine to the inside of my shirt.”

Sasha tucked hers into the inner pocket of her jacket. “Remind me not to take this off today…I assume it won’t work if we deliberately provoke him. Or, well—it’s not specifically anti-Elias, right?”

“Yeah, it’s…think of it as mosquito repellent. It creates a layer of protection that keeps things from knowing you’re there if they don’t already know you’re there, but if you stick your hand in a mess of them chances are one’s going to bite you.”

Tim tucked the one Martin had given him into his wallet, which he then returned to his back pocket. Martin figured it was better than nothing. “Right. In we go, then.”

The Archives didn’t look any different than they had before Jane Prentiss had attacked, really. The shelves still bristled with files in all sorts of disarray, a few neat folders still sat on the assistants’ desks, and the bulletin board still hung slightly crooked. The only real difference Martin could spot was that the window in the door leading to the document storage room had been scrubbed sparkling clean.

“Took Tim the better part of a day,” Sasha said, following Martin’s gaze. “The cleaning crew Elias hired did a decent enough job in here, once the repairs were done, but we gave it an extra scrub-down the first day we were back, just to be sure.”

“Thanks, Sash.” Martin unslung his bag and began setting up for the morning.

He was surprised at how easily he was able to slip back into the routine after the time he’d spent away—logging into his laptop, asking Sasha about her weekend, glancing at the files on his desk to see what he needed to prepare for. The only change from usual was that Tim took his mug out of his hands and went to make tea for all of them without a word.

Sasha watched him go. “I don’t think he’s handling this well.”

“He found a dead body in a hidden tunnel underneath his workplace, spent two hours getting grilled by the police over it, and then had to go back to work like nothing happened,” Martin pointed out. “That would be a lot for anyone to handle. Has he talked to you about it?”

“N-no. No, he hasn’t.” Sasha hesitated, then dropped her voice. “Has he…told you about Danny?”

Martin shook his head. His stomach lurched unpleasantly, and something in his mind itched, which made him hold up a hand. “Don’t tell me, please. Don’t…”

Sasha’s eyes widened in understanding. “No, I won’t. Sorry, I shouldn’t have…” She swallowed. “I just—I think maybe that’s all coming up, too.”

“If he won’t talk to you about it—” Martin bit off the rest of the sentence. Instinct told him that bringing up Gerry anywhere in the Institute—cluing Elias in that he was still alive, or alive again, or whatever Gerry’s status was—would be a very bad idea. “I’d ask, but I don’t know how much that would…help.”

“I…oh.” Sasha winced. “I’ll…try talking to him later this week. I wasn’t pushing, honestly.”

“I think right about now, Tim needs a little push.”

Tim came back in with their mugs of tea just as the clock in the corner of Martin’s computer flipped over to 8:00. In the same instant, the phone on Tim’s desk rang. He took the time to set the mugs on everyone’s desks before picking it up on the seventh ring. “Archives, Stoker speaking.” He listened for a moment, face impassive, then simply said, “Right,” before hanging up.

Martin didn’t need any kind of special powers to guess who had been on the other end. “Elias?”

“Yup.” Tim drew out the Y and popped the P like someone launching a rubber band off the end of his thumb. “Wants to see us in his office, immediately.”

Sasha sighed and took a deep swig of her coffee. “I knew I should’ve ordered a double. Let’s get this over with.”

Rosie was in her usual place, typing away on her computer. She’d dyed her hair again in the last few weeks, from a brassy gold to a vibrant merlot, and there were silver ribbons woven through the braids wrapped around the crown of her head. She looked up and offered Martin a warm smile and a cheery greeting, which he returned more than half mechanically before following Tim and Sasha into Elias’ office.

Elias was waiting for them, his hands folded on his desk and a pleasant smile plastered on his face. He, too, looked exactly the same as the last time Martin had seen him, except for the new and startling addition of a cloth patch, held on with a ribbon, covering his left eye. What was startling about it was less its presence than the fact that it was made of silk, and matched his tie.

“Ah. Martin. Welcome back.” Elias gestured to the three chairs in front of him. “Please, have a seat, all of you.” He waited for them to comply, then continued, “I appreciate you coming up first thing, but I feel the sooner we have this…discussion, the better. I’m sure Martin has already let you know that Jon will be out an extra day or two.”

“He mentioned it,” Sasha said with a glance at Martin. “Something about a stab wound?”

Martin nodded, and then suddenly decided to test the waters a little. “He told me what he told the paramedics—that he’d been surprised by a bum while out for a walk.”

Elias’ single uncovered eye gazed at Martin intently, but there was no little press of static—he wasn’t even trying to slip through Martin’s defenses. “And do you believe him?”

“I believe that that’s what he told the paramedics.” Martin stared Elias down like he had nothing to lose. If he wanted things out in the open, he was going to have to bring them out.

The standoff probably lasted no more than a second or two, but it felt like hours before Elias smiled slightly. The smile wasn’t condescending or patronizing or cruelly triumphant; Martin would have preferred any of those. Instead it was sly, almost conspiratorial—a smile that said we’re in on this together, you and I. It made Martin feel even dirtier than the phone call on Friday had.

“I think we understand each other,” Elias said, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers. “Whatever Jon ran into that caused his injury, it has a supernatural explanation. And for whatever reason, Jon wishes to keep that information from you.”

Tim started angrily, but Martin shook his head. “No, he’s right, Tim. Jon—you know how he gets. He, he probably thinks if he doesn’t tell us what he’s doing or what he’s looking into, it’ll keep us safe.” He paused, then added slowly, “And…you know, we did just find out Gertrude Robinson was murdered, and not by supernatural means. Jon’s probably worried he’ll be next.”

Sasha’s eyes widened a touch dramatically. “You don’t think he thinks one of us did it, do you?”

“I don’t think so.” Martin let a bit of uncertainty into his voice. “But I think he’s playing his cards close to his chest for now.”

“We’re not letting him get away with that,” Tim growled.

“Of course not,” Elias said. “However…I think it best, for now anyway, if Jon considers Jane Prentiss and…whatever he encountered in Sheffield…to be isolated incidents. Genuine supernatural encounters, by all means, but not connected.”

“But you think they are?” Sasha looked back and forth from Elias to Martin.

“They are,” Martin said, quietly but firmly. “ Remember I told you there was more going on than just a worm infestation? It’s…there’s a lot more out there than you know. And a lot of it is connected. Worse, it’s going to be after the Archivist.”

Elias nodded. “Martin can fill you in on whatever details you wish later—although I strongly suggest you not discuss them in front of Jon. However, I feel it is important that you know, at the very least, the broad strokes of the matter.”

Martin held his tongue through the ensuing explanation. Tim and Sasha played their parts beautifully, asking leading questions to get Elias to confess to more than he’d planned on while concealing how much they knew. Elias was surprisingly honest, although Martin knew exactly how much he was holding back. He also could see all the tiny, tempting little threads he was leaving hanging—threads that Sasha, at the very least, would absolutely start pulling on if he hadn’t already given her a baseline of knowledge.

At last, Elias turned to Martin. “As I said, Martin, you can fill in whatever details about this…situation you feel are necessary later, but remember that too much knowledge can be just as dangerous as too little. And I strongly advise you not to mention any of this to Jon until you’re certain he’s strong enough to handle it.”

The hair on the back of Martin’s neck stood on end. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Martin. Surely you realize that Jon is developing…abilities. And the closer he draws to…our master, the more powerful those abilities will become. But if you tell him too quickly, we both know he will push himself beyond his limits before he’s ready. And that could easily destroy him.”

Martin swallowed the bile that rose into his throat at the words our master, and he also swallowed the urge to protest that Jon would be safer if he knew what he was doing. Elias wasn’t entirely wrong, and anyway, the less he thought Jon knew, the better. “F-fine. Fine. But…you know Jon. He’s going to push himself anyway. I can’t—we can’t just leave him to his own devices. Paranoid or not, we’ll need to keep close to him.”

“Of course,” Elias agreed easily—too easily, Martin thought. He wondered if Elias was encouraging them to hover in hopes it would drive Jon’s paranoia up, make him suspicious that they were watching him too much. “In fact…here.” He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a key—a large, solid, old-fashioned key, black cast iron with surprisingly little rust on its body. He placed it on the desk. “This is the key to the trapdoor leading to the tunnels. I have no doubt that if left to his own devices, Jon would have stolen this and begun exploring them on his own—in fact, I’m not certain he hasn’t already.” He paused, but as Martin did not refute him, he went on. “I suggest one of you gives it to him, perhaps offers to accompany him in his…explorations. Whether he takes you up on it or not, at least you’ll know he’s down there, and you can keep an…eye on him.”

The three assistants looked at one another. Finally, Martin picked up the key, which felt surprisingly cold, and slipped it into his pocket. Elias beamed. “Good! Now, if there are no other questions…”

“Just one.” Something in Tim’s voice made Martin tense, and he looked over to see his friend leaning forward, scowling. “What would you say if I said I quit right now?”

“Tim,” Sasha gasped, the color draining from her face.

Elias didn’t bat an eyelash, or if he did, it was one hidden by the eyepatch. “You can’t.”

“Watch me.”

“Tim, I am being very literal. You cannot quit. You are bound to the Institute now, body and soul. The longer you’re away from it, the weaker you will become. I’m afraid an appointment to the Archives is one for life.” Elias rose. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another meeting in ten minutes. If you have any concerns that need my attention, please send a memo to Rosie and I will be down as soon as possible.”

It was as clear a dismissal as could be, and Martin gently hooked a hand under Tim’s elbow and steered him to the door.

“It’s good to have you back, Martin,” Rosie called, her eyes twinkling merrily as they passed her desk. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“How long has she had a crush on you?” Sasha whispered.

“Shut up.” Tim was being way too calm and docile and Martin was incredibly worried.

He was right to be. The second they were back in the Archives, Tim whirled on him. “Is he right?”

“Tim,” Sasha began.

“No, don’t.” Tim’s eyes almost burned holes in Martin’s. “Is he right? We’re trapped here?”

Martin hesitated. “He’s not as right as he thinks he is.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s—it’s not the Institute. It’s, well, it’s kind of the Eye, but—it’s like I told Jon the day of the attack. Upstairs, we could have walked away no harm done, but once we came down to the Archives…” Martin took a deep breath and decided to take a chance that Elias really did have a meeting and would be focusing on that rather than the three of them. “When I saw your Marks? The ones for the Eye were…they were like chains almost. And I couldn’t tell you where the lock was, if it was anywhere. So yeah, I think at this point we’re tied to the Archives themselves. O-or maybe it’s the Archivist. I dunno, Gertrude outlived all her assistants, so it’s not like there’s anyone around we could ask.”

Tim stared at Martin for a long moment. Abruptly, he turned on his heel and stalked off into the shelves. Martin exhaled heavily and sat down.

“He’ll be fine.” Sasha took her seat as well and downed a large swallow of her probably now cold coffee. “He’s not mad at you, Martin, you know that.”

“I know,” Martin said softly. “Still. I should have told you all sooner.”

“You did try. Like you said, you told Jon during the attack that you didn’t think any of us could walk away now. Not your fault we didn’t press you further on that.” Sasha opened her laptop. “I’ll take him to lunch later and try to get his head out of his ass. Meanwhile, let’s forge ourselves another yard of chain, shall we, Marley?”

Martin smiled slightly at the reference, and got to work.

Tim appeared calmer when he finally emerged from the stacks, but his eyes were slightly reddened and Martin didn’t bring it up. The three of them worked mostly in silence, almost like they’d done before, for the rest of the morning. Finally, lunchtime rolled around and Sasha convinced Tim to come with her.

“You’ll be okay alone, Marto?” Tim asked, sounding surprisingly reluctant as he got up.

Martin gave him a warm smile and a nod. “I’m fine. Brought lunch from home even, so you two take as long as you want. I can work through my lunch if I need to.”

Sasha winked at him before they headed out. Martin watched them go and then turned back to the files he was studying, hoping Tim came back in a better mood. Or at all. It would be just like him to decide to spontaneously take the afternoon off to test Elias’ assertion, or take the rest of the week off and go out of the country.

He was just considering taking five minutes to run to the break room for his sandwich when he heard a voice that, all things considered, he would rather not have heard. “Mr. Blackwood?”

Martin’s hand tightened around his pen, just for a second, before he looked up. He relaxed and hoped his relief didn’t show on his face when he saw that it was the police constable who’d come to get his and Jon’s statements after the attack, but not the detective who’d come with her at the time. “Oh—uh—Officer Hussein, right?”

“Call me Basira. I’m off-duty at the moment.” The officer, who was in plainclothes, looked around. “Where is everybody?”

“Um, Tim and Sasha are at lunch. Jon’s not back yet.”

Basira gave Martin a piercing look. He tried not to squirm. She might not have been like the detective, so tightly bound to the Hunt that Martin didn’t need his eyes to sense it, but she was still a cop and the plain fact of the matter was that most cops were at least Hunt-adjacent if they lasted in the job very long. “Thought Sims was supposed to be back today. That’s what Bouchard said.”

“He was, but he got himself stabbed by a bum over the weekend, so he’ll be out another day or two.” Martin thought about closing his laptop but decided that might make him look guilty. “Um, is there…anything I can help you with?”

Basira studied him. “I guess. You guys do…statements and stuff, right? Let people talk about stuff they’ve run into?”

Martin tensed as the faint prickle of static began building behind his eyes. He tried to sound normal. “Yeah, that’s…pretty much what we do. Is that what you want to do? Make a statement?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Basira tilted her head slightly. “Can you take it, or do I have to wait for Sims?”

“No, we can all take statements, it’s part of the job.” Martin did close his laptop this time and reached for the tape recorder he’d left sitting there, intending to transcribe Gerry’s statement at some point. “Um, tell you what, let’s—let’s go into the back here. It’s a little quieter, just in case someone comes down.”

“That happen often?”

“Some? Mostly it’s students doing research. Bit early in the term for that, though. And sometimes someone from Research will pop down to drop something off.” Martin stood and led Basira towards Document Storage. “Do you have a particular incident in mind you wanted to make your statement about?”

Basira shrugged. “Just kind of want to get it out in general. Mostly all happened since I got Sectioned.”

“Sectioned?”

“Section Thirty-One. That’s what we call it, being Sectioned. It’s…we get these, kind of weird cases? Stuff like you investigate here, only…criminal, not just spooky. There are only a few officers who handle them, and we have to sign that we won’t talk about it with people who don’t. Everybody knows the officers who work those cases, though.”

Martin had to admit, if only to himself, that he was intrigued.

Basira took the seat he directed her to and refused his offer of a cup of tea, then stared at the tape recorder when he switched it on, suddenly looking uncertain. “I really shouldn’t be talking about it on tape.”

“You came to us," Martin pointed out.

“Yeah, just…need to talk about it with someone, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

Basira stared at him intently. “I’m breaking the law by talking to you. You understand that?”

Martin nodded slowly. He almost said it wouldn’t be the first time he’d aided and abetted a crime, but he bit that back quickly—off-duty or not, she was still very much a cop, and one who’d dealt with some of the same bullshit the Magnus Institute investigated on an academic basis. Instead he said, “I think so. Some kind of non-disclosure agreement, right?”

“Pretty much.” Basira hesitated. “Do you need my real name?”

“No, we’ve had people give fake names before, or even make anonymous statements,” Martin assured her. “But from what you said, I kind of feel like it wouldn’t do a lot of good, you know? It’s not going to be too hard for people who know the situation to figure out it’s you who told us.” He hesitated. “Look, we take statements from people in your position all the time—you know, people who are talking about stuff they’ve signed agreements not to talk about. I can mark this ‘for internal use only’, and that means that it falls under our NDA, which is like crazy strict, like makes MI-6 look like an open book strict. Nobody outside the Institute is allowed to requisition it.”

Basira raised an eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest. “That’s the best you can do?”

“If you want this to be a formal statement, yeah, that’s the best I can do.” Martin leaned back in his seat and matched her posture. “If you’re that worried about your voice being recognized, I can get you one of our statement forms and you can write it out. One of us will make an audio copy later.”

“I’m not really big on writing. I’m more of a talker.” Basira relaxed, almost unconsciously.

Martin forced himself not to smirk, but inside, he was doing a triumphant dance. He’d never quite had Gerry’s charisma—or Tim’s, although there were professional courtesans without Tim’s charisma—so it was always a point of pride with him when he was able to win someone over. “Weird choice of job, then. Isn’t being a cop like eighty percent paperwork?”

“Not so much. Not since I became Section Thirty-One.”

“I suppose that’s a good place to start.” Martin straightened up and adopted a professional tone. “Statement of Police Constable Basira Hussein regarding her time investigating…strange occurrences as part of Section Thirty-One. Statement taken direct from subject, nineteenth September 2016.” He nodded to her. “Statement begins.”

The familiar static settled against Martin’s skin as Basira began to talk. Her experiences were fairly mundane, as encounters with the Fourteen went, although Martin’s ears pricked up at the mention of the little red leather book found with her first case that had got her Sectioned—at last they had a name to put with that unpleasant fellow Gerry had had to kill in the end. He tried not to flinch when she mentioned Detective Tonner, but it made sense that she’d been Sectioned years before Basira had even joined the force if she was that ingrained in the Hunt. He also wasn’t particularly surprised that she only had two official examples; like she said, these things didn’t leave a lot of evidence. It was why it had always been so hard to prove things to Jon.

“So why is Gertrude’s body considered a para—a weird case?” Martin asked. “Or is it?”

“I mean, we’re investigating it as a murder because that’s what it is, but you guys are basically an automatic Section Thirty-One, so I’ve got almost no help on it,” Basira told him. “Maybe that’s why I wanted to make a statement, you know? I can’t talk to anybody about this stuff, and then I come here, and you’ve got all this…all these people’s experiences listened to and filed away. It’s…I don’t know. I’ve been meaning to come in ever since that callout.”

Martin made sympathetic noises. “So it’s just you and—Detective Tonner?”

“Yeah, but she’s CID. Which I suppose means it’s technically her problem, but she’s also the only detective who’s already sanctioned now, so she’s always busy. I tried making the argument that the murder didn’t seem to connect to any of your ‘paranormal business,’ at least not directly, but nope. I’ve got a shot corpse, three boxes of cassette tapes, and Daisy.”

“Cassette tapes?” Martin repeated. It was the first time he’d heard anything about that. “Like…like statement cassette tapes?”

Basira shrugged. “Maybe. They’ve all got weird labels on them I can’t make heads or tails out of. As far as I know, neither one of us has had time to listen to any of them.”

“Where did you find them? Up here?”

“No, with the body. She was just surrounded by them.”

“Huh.” Martin hadn’t realized Gertrude was recording the statements, but it made sense, he realized. The recorders wouldn’t have been there if she hadn’t been using them.

He leaned over and shut off the recording, since the actual statement was done. “Wonder what she was doing with them down there. O-or do you think—the person who killed her put them with her?”

“Dunno. Answers might be on those tapes.” Basira cocked her head at him thoughtfully. “You really think they might be statements?”

“I-I mean, I never really met her, but she didn’t seem like the type to have a bunch of punk rock tapes or anything.” Martin shrugged. “And you said they had weird labels…they’re probably statements. Jon called her filing system ‘pointlessly awkward’ and he’s not altogether wrong.”

Basira hesitated, glancing at the recorder, but she seemed satisfied it was off and leaned in a bit. “Listen…what if I try to bring you some?”

Martin paused. “What?”

“I mean, I can’t—it’s not like I’m going to be able to bring you a lot of them at once. Probably just one at a time, when I can smuggle them out—they’re technically evidence, you know? But if I bring them to you, you might be able to figure out better than I can why she had them. If they were just random tapes she was hoarding or if she had a purpose for having those specific tapes with her.” Basira gestured to Martin. “You know her system and all that. You can probably figure out if these were the only copies or if the written statements are still on the shelves, and that’s a start, at least. No one but you and me has to know I’m giving them to you.”

There was a catch in this—there had to be. No police officer would willingly just hand over evidence to someone, even if her logic was sound. Then again, she wasn’t as tightly bound in the Hunt as her partner, so maybe she just wasn’t all that loyal to the police either. Whatever the case, Martin had to admit that he was curious about those tapes. If Gertrude had taken them with her, and for a purpose…maybe they would help them to figure out how to stop the Unknowing. Maybe there was a clue in there somewhere.

“All right,” he said. “I won’t say anything to my coworkers about it.” A lie. He was definitely going to tell them. “And if I come up with anything, you’ll be the first to know.”

Basira nodded. “Great. I’ll get you the first one as soon as I can.” She stood up. “Now. How the hell do I get out of this place?”

[akaikali]

TMAGP EP 24 REACTION (SPOILERS)

Oh boy are we starting with Gwen getting her job back?

Damn Gwen you are good with words. I do feel like she's doing this to investigate more about the Externals. And I think she's probably talking to Alice about this.

"Minister"? Oh GOD I'm gonna fucking hate this.

Lena is like "yeah no she's not being a brat I don't like this"

NORRIS MY BOYYYY YOU'RE BACK

GOD WHY IS IT A BABY ONE RIGHT AGTER A VAGUELY PREGNANCY BASED ONE WHYYYYY

IS THE BABY A DEMON. IS IT A DEMON. I THINK ITS A DEMON.

Okay but like also yeah nannycam horror stories are SOMETHING ELSE.

CELIA??????

THE BABY LIKES CELIA????? THE FUCK??????

WHY DOES THE BABY HAVE SHARP TEETH THE FUCK GUYS WHAT IS THIS WHAT IS HAPPENING.

...demon baby.

Health visitor?? What's a health visitor?? OH ITS A BRITISH THING OK

The mom's speech sounds more tired and slurred kudos to the VA, you can see the sleep deprivation is getting to her. Also it's like...Wow this poor mom. Sleep deprivation is the worst torture you can go through and she's going through it for her CHILD.

DUDE WHO HEARD THE CASE. WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE FACT THAT CELIA WAS MENTIONED. WHAT.

Okay Sam cool it. You're taking it too far. She was just asking a question.

Jesus Christ Sam you're supposed to be her friend why is your girlfriend nicer to Alice than you are.

Hey Sam, what the FUCK is wrong with you "not much we can do about it" YOU GAVE GWEN A FUCKING PANIC ATTACK???

Celia would be a good mom. Seriously she has to play mediator between Alice and Sam.

Also yeah switching sides, Sam you're a DICK (still love you though) Alice go be with Gwen and Celia please.

OH MY GOD

BASIRA?????

Holy shit she's a headmistress in this universe??? That actually makes sense-WHERES DAISY. WHAT ABOUT DAISY.

Yeah they're just giving clear signs that Celia was from TMA with the police officer question there's no doubt about it.

Sam why are you so BAD at this what the fuck Celia is fucking CARRYING this investigation.

Anyways Celia <3 Alice <3 Gwen <3

[annabelle--cane]

I will always resent that there was no reunion between Callum and Basira during season five. It was perhaps one of the most interesting hooks written by Jonny in a final season, the way a child's descent into the Fears was written to be interpreted as an entire community's mistake due to negligence was very good and quite consistent with what we know of how The Dark operates and I believe that if Basira had still been around she would have decided to stay there with the children rather than leaving for London

I think about that sometimes, too, and I occasionally wonder if that was something that hit the cutting room floor as part of basira's arc being restructured to fit the remote recording schedule? imo the way martin tells her about that incident in mag 177 feels a little weird, he avoids saying callum's name or mentioning that the child avatar in question was the head of a dark domain, so basira never connects the dots that this is a kid she knows. rescuing him was a major incident in her life! it led to the death of her friend and then her disillusionment and exit from the police! it would have hit her super hard to find out that probably one of the most concretely good things she ever did under the auspices of the police (saving a kidnapped child from being killed and taken over) still didn't save him from getting pulled in by the dark, not even to mention the spanner it would have thrown in the works of her monster/human complex.

[soppingwetrat]

BASIRA!!!! my wife is back!!!!!

also Celia knew that Basira used to be a police officer??? not to mention thee glitch effect when she said it's something she thinks she saw in the files?????? the plot is plotting fr

[stephaniebrownslover]

My Creepypasta but The Magnus Archives style AU

Okay so this is an old AU that I would like to explain and write, but my street cat is currently sick and he's requeiring all my time and energy and that's okay!

There'll be only character roles and AU explainations in this post.

Character roles and which TMA character they match;

Judge Angels//Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Police officer called upon to deal with paranormal cases

Nurse Ann//Annabelle Cane, Avatar of The Web

Zero//Basira Hussain, Police officer called upon to deal with paranormal cases

Vladimir and Zachary//Breekon and Hope, Mysterious deliverymen and servants of The Stranger

Slenderman//Elias Bouchard , Head of The Magnus Institute

Mary Vaughn//Georgie Barker, "Host of the What The Ghost?" podcast

Ben Drowned//Gerard Keay, Mary Keay’s son and acquaintance of Gertrude Robinson

Rouge//Gertrude Robinson , Former head archivist of The Magnus Institute

Nina The Killer//Helen Richardson, Real estate agent merged with the Distortion

Lulu//Jane Prentiss, Avatar of The Corruption

Masky//Jonathan Sims, Head archivist of The Magnus Institute

Clockwork//Julia Montauk, Hunter and daughter of Robert Montauk

Homicidal Liu//Jurgen Leitner, Collector of paranormal books

Hoodie//Martin Blackwood, Archival assistant at The Magnus Institute

Jane The Killer//Melanie King, Proprietor of the "Ghost Hunt UK" Youtube Channel

Laughing Jack//Michael Shelley, Gertrude Robinson's assistant who was merged with The Distortion

Laughing Jill//Nikola Orsinov, Plastic mannequin created from Joseph Grimaldi

Zalgo//Peter Lukas, Avatar of The Lonely and captain of the Tundra

Kate The Chaser//Sasha James, Archival assistant at The Magnus Institute

Trendderman//Simon Fairchild , Avatar of The Vast(edit:he's changed from Offenderman to Trenderman)

Ticci Toby//Timothy Stoker, Archival assistant at The Magnus Institute

Eyeless Jack//Trevor Herbert, Self-proclaimed vampire hunter

Notes;

-Creepypasta characters, which are the equivalent of The Magnus Archives characters, were selected without caring about gender and the character whose personality is the most similar with TMA role was replaced with creepypasta character.

-The terms like The Stranger, The Vast, The Spiral, The Buried and blah blah and being an avatar etc. will be explained in future as in the podcast.

-Although I'm trying not to go out of personality to a large extent, there will be many things that do not fit because this is a completely different universe.

-Most of the Creepypasta characters are not killers, and some external appearance features have been arranged accordingly. If you don't like it, you don't need to read it because it's an AU. It's that simple.

-This AU is set in London, just like the podcast.

-If there is a thing that you are uncomfortable with, just don't read it. TMA is a podcast series full of really interesting horror stories, and if you're feeling uncomfortable, it's quite normal but please don't push yourself too much.

- All statements in the 200 episodes will not be mentioned in this AU. Only as much of it as will help you understand the AU will be edited into the AU.

-The dialogue is not exactly the same as in the podcast, because it will vary depending on the characters, but the critical scenes may be the same.

-I think that's it, have fun.

-And for you to have a better idea, The Magnus Archives description;

"The Magnus Archives is a weekly horror fiction anthology podcast examining what lurks in the archives of the Magnus Institute, an organisation dedicated to researching the esoteric and the weird. Join new head archivist Jonathan Sims as he attempts to bring a seemingly neglected collection of supernatural statements up to date, converting them to audio and supplementing them with follow-up work from his small but dedicated team.

Individually, they are unsettling. Together they begin to form a picture that is truly horrifying because as they look into the depths of the archives, something starts to look back…"