#it changes the conversation. some things are different to hear from a tma person than a tme person

[idealism-world]

need y'all to realize tme doesn't mean transmasc. tme doesn't even mean afab (and the idea that tma people are attacking tme people for their agab is extremely transmisogynist) a cis man is tme. a cis woman is tme. transneutral people who are afab, amab, and intersex are mostly likely tme. intersex people can be tme or tma. tme just means Transmisogyny exempt. i'm tme. my parents are tme. You are just making it endlessly harder for tma people to talk about their oppression because you think every time they say tme they're attacking transmascs. maybe if you gave a fuck about tma people you wouldn't nitpick their language. just saying.

edit: i deleted my previous edit because i realized i was being stupid as hell.

[aegialia]

self-indulgent reflection on being on tumblr

so i recently hit 1000 followers on here and this blog has existed for almost exactly 8 years, so i wanted to ramble about tumblr and my experience of it for awhile. under the cut so definitely feel free to ignore this.

i started this blog right around when i was fourteen and had just started high school. at that point, i was out to my parents (and no one else) as bi, i had an inkling i was Struggling with something but i had no idea what and felt like i couldnt actually acknowledge it, and i had left leaning but very vague politics. tumblr definitely has shaped my journey around sexuality/gender/mental health/politics, both for good and for ill. 

for good: 

seeing other ppl talk about being lesbians helped me realize i could be a lesbian w/o being a traitor to the concept of bisexuality. hearing trans ppl talk about their experiences and explaining non-binary stuff and dysphoria helped me understand what i was going through 

i don’t like talking about my mental health stuff in detail on here, but suffice to say, i was Going Through it in high school. i’m still going through it now, but i am in a much better place (thank you medication and 7 years of therapy!). seeing ppl talk about the weird, dumb, awful parts of mental illness let me acknowledge that i was going through those things too, that i wasnt like evil for feeling like that, that i could change. people talking about adhd/autism was particularly helpful---being able to identify why i’d always felt like my brain just didn’t work right is the first step in the (ongoing) process of not hating myself for the way my brain works

politics is definitely the area where i think tumblr was the best for me. i got exposed to so many opinions i definitely wasn’t hearing in school, from intelligent, well-read people who could articulate theory in ways i could understand. tumblr didn’t give me my politics and i didn’t learn everything i know about theory from it, but the communities of people i was around pointed me in the right directions. tumblr was also a good place to learn how to react to criticism. this doesn’t seem to be most people’s experience, but getting called out over minor things on tumblr genuinely helped me learn how to take a step back, look at my behavior, apologize, and try to change, which, as it turns out, is a helpful skill irl as well

for ill:

wrt sexuality and gender, it’s probably pretty obvious someone who’s journey is ‘cis bi girl -> cis with a million different microlabels -> nb w a million different microlabels for both sexuality and gender -> nb butch lesbian who’s not super into romance’ would have some bad times on tumblr. the bi circles i was in made being a lesbian seem like an immoral choice, the ‘’’mogai’’’ (or whatever u wanna call them) circles made me feel like i had to divy up and perfectly label every aspect of myself in a way that really wasn’t helpful for me, the lesbian circles i was in made me feel like being a lesbian was about ending up in a monogamous butch/femme cottagecore relationship and that there was something wrong with me for not really wanting that. to be clear i think microlabels can be very helpful for people/a monogamous butch/femme relationship is a perfectly fine thing to want, they just didn’t work for me. im very very glad ive reached a point in my life where i dont feel the need to stay up to date on the latest discourse and am more focused on finding a way to exist that is comfortable for me and supporting my community irl. 10/10 would recommend to everyone

not going to get deep into it, but social media is. not good for my brain in general. i still enjoy using tumblr, but these days im pretty careful to step back from it frequently and treat it as an occasional hobby. 

the cons of political stuff on tumblr are probably also very obvious. there are some just awful discussions on here and the culture surrounding the way we handle bad behavior and justice and accountability and working to become a better person and make up for the harm you’ve caused has historically been fucking awful and trying to unlearn it and find new ways to engage with this stuff is exhausting. 

for all that i’ve changed over the course of having this blog, this blog has stayed pretty fucking static. i started out being super into diana wynne jones and the iliad and those are still two of my biggest interests and things i talk about the most on here. there are definitely specific things that have petered away (i started this blog almost entirely to keep up with good omens fan stuff and i pretty much haven’t touched it since the miniseries came out, i haven’t sought out pacific rim/supernatural/elementary/mcu content in years), but im still pretty much interested in the same things. i like relatively small fandoms, i like weird side characters, i like to be a grumpy child playing with my toys in the corner. when a fandom im in gets popular, i tend to stop engaging with it entirely (hello rqg/tma/good omens/enola holmes!). i dont think its a pretentious ‘i liked it before it was cool’ thing so much as a ‘people get Weird and awful when a fandom hits a certain level of popularity and there’s too much content and i really, really hate the bad faith arguments larger fandoms tend to spawn’ thing. i’ll consume content from big fandoms, but i pretty much refuse to actually engage with them at this point.

one of the stranger parts of my experience of tumblr is the social side. i’ve never really known how people make friends online---how do you go from liking each other’s posts and occasionally replying to them to actually being friends who communicate off social media? i’ve had conversations with ppl on tumblr and i’ve had sort-of friendships that are contained to tumblr where i’d like to get to know them better, but i’ve never figured out how to do that. my best friend’s job is pretty much to make friends/connections on the internet (she’s an activist and artist), my dad knows people everywhere in the world from twitter, and i’m just sitting here like a little old grandpa who doesn’t understand how you can have internet friends. 

at this point in my life, i’m fine with this, but this has made me feel real fucking bad in the past---like, if everyone online, even the ppl who say they’re weird and brainbad in a similar way to me, can make friends on the internet, what’s wrong with me? particularly in high school and my first year of college, when i was just horribly lonely all the time, it made me feel super disconnected and like there was something fundamentally bad about me. these days, i’m a lot chiller about it. i use social media to engage with stuff i enjoy and share my thoughts about it. it’s okay that my social difficulties extend to me not knowing how to use the internet to socialize.

on a somewhat related topic, it’s wild that i have 1000 followers. obviously, that’s not an actually super large number and a huge number of them are probably bots or inactive. if you post consistently for eight years and follow lots of people, like i do, it’s not a surprise to end up with this many followers. it is also, thankfully, the sort of followers that are not fans. probably most ppl following this blog dont remember why they followed and dont know anything about me or my interests. this sounds like its meant to be depressing but it’s not. i like that my way of engaging w the internet lets me do pretty much whatever i want and no one will care. the mere concept of being. like. tumblr famous in any capacity, even just in one community/fandom, is viscerally horrifying to me. 

i really enjoy the space i’ve created for myself on here. on one hand, going back through my blog is obviously embarrassing and full of hating my past self. on the other hand, i now have a very nice collection of things i enjoy in this blog. i like seeing what i’ve been interested in and (when i’m in a good mental health place) i like to be able to remember how i thought and talked about the things i loved when i was younger. im not at the place in my life where i can love a younger version of myself, but sometimes i can laugh at zir with a level of fondness. 

i’ve always been paranoid about sharing details about my life on here (and the fact that my parents have always been able to see it certainly contributed), so the version of jack on here is a carefully curated version, who’s super enthusiastic about the things they love, was very conscientious about apologizing and trying to do better when ze messed up, and tried to be polite to others. that’s a younger version of myself that i’m closer to being able to have compassion for than the version i find in essays and poems and memories. 

i’m starting grad school in ten days and i’m still using the blog i started when i began high school. tumblr has helped me in a lot of ways and hurt me in a lot of ways, but i still have to admit that it’s been a significant factor in shaping me. i’d be incredibly embarrassed to admit that irl, but it’s true. other than my family and like one friend, this blog is one of the only things that’s ‘known’ me since i started high school. i’ve changed so much in that time and im glad to have this weird little record of myself throughout those changes, even if i’d probably warn my younger self away from tumblr if i could go back in time.

tl;dr i have had a mixed experience on tumblr and i have mixed feelings about that experience. no idea if anyone read any of this very long, very rambling internet memoir

p.s. fun facts about this blog:

i’ve never changed my icon or blog title

i recently got a second version of the poster i got my blog title from. i chose my blog title by looking at what was hanging on the wall directly in front of me. 

my original url was gloomthkin. this was not, as you’d probably assume, an otherkin thing. i had literally no idea what otherkin was at that point. i’d just learned the word gloomth from a bill bryson book and thought it would be cool n edgy to be the child of the quality of gloom. i changed my url after i learned what otherkin was and realized everyone probably assumed something about me that wasn’t true which i hated (not bc i had an issue w otherkin, just bc i don’t like ppl thinking untrue things about me)

during my good omens days, i once sent a tumblr ask to nail guyman which, in retrospect, was kinda rude. i stand by the content but id never send an ask like that now. he replied to it privately in a way that so deeply embarrassed and shamed 15 year old me that i’ve never gotten over it. i still get nervous and embarrassed when i see anything about him or his books

[savrenim]

okay so looking at tma fic in general and tma time-travel fic and the various ways they decide to resolve things has given me an idea for a time travel fix-it fic premise that, like, I almost certainly will never write because way too many writing projects but it is Haunting me so I need to blab about it somewhere 

so clearly the way that the ‘time travel’ / ‘knowledge of the future’ bit works is that Jon stumbles across a book that he assumes is a Leitner but then there’s no name in the front cover so he opens it proper and oooh this is weird but it’s too late the compulsion has set hold and and reads it, oops

the experience of reading it is the experience of fuck-it-feels-like living the entire timeline of the show up through the end of episode 160

(actually all the way through When Jon Finally Dies if he ever does but the important bit is he gets that knowledge of the timeline)

(the book is channeling the power of the Ceaseless Watcher, it’s all about knowledge, although very specifically in my brain this book is something that future!Jon and future!Martin constructed and sent back, which still tracks because hey Archivist is an Avatar of the Watcher. it’s just important to me that this is active action as an attempt to prevent the apocalypse and not dumb luck)

so Jonathan Sims now knows his future and because I have strong opinions about memory/ personality/ what makes a person, has arguably just been replaced with his future self.

‘oh fuck’ Jon says 

‘I ended the world so I gotta fix this’

but how does he fix this, because oops Elias is still stupidly powerful and is going to notice if anything is up so he can’t act weird 

but he can’t bring anyone else in on this because he doesn’t want to Curse Them with such Angsty Knowledge 

he is acting a little bit weird, Martin notices that he’s acting weird because he is now being nice to Martin 

‘this cannot be how the universe exists, Jon is always mean to me,’ Martin goes. ‘like I want the universe to exist this way but Something Is Up With Jon and it would be selfish of me not to investigate just because Jon is actually being nice to me’

Martin stumbles across the book and reads it too

‘oh fuck’ Martin says and immediately goes and talks to Jon and Jon has terrible selfish mixed feelings because he missed his Martin but also didn’t want Martin to have to go through everything he went through but also now Jon is not alone in trying to figure out how to alter this timeline without Elias noticing 

(’wait what gave me away,’ Jon goes)

(’you were being nice to me,’ Martin goes)

(’fuck I really do need to be meaner to everyone don’t I,’ Jon goes. ‘it’s just really hard I’ve had Character Growth and I don’t want to be an asshole again’)

(’well suck it up you’re going to blow our cover,’ Martin goes. ‘maybe you should have thought of that before Being An Asshole.’ he immediately feels bad at Jon’s Very Sad Face. ‘you weren’t actually that much of an asshole you were just under stress and prickly and didn’t realize that the people you weren’t appreciating could be people that you would lose and now you do and that’s fine but you gotta still treat them like you’re an Asshole.’)

(’fine,’ Jon goes.)

so now they’re trying to figure out how to stop Elias 

but also their main priority is to stop Tim and Sasha from dying at this point and they kind of figure that Elias doesn’t know the timeline and as long as he’s getting what he wants which is naive Jon stumbling through interactions with Entities and getting marked but not killed, he won’t suspect anything, and he doesn’t know Tim and Sasha are going to die so that at least is something immediate they can fix 

‘I want to murder Jonah,’ goes Martin 

‘you are super valid but also Gertrude tried that and was 1000% more badass than any of us and she ended up dead so maybe we should concentrate on saving our friends like we’ve got a few years to figure out how to do that,’ goes Jon 

‘fine,’ goes Martin 

Tim and Sasha notice that something is up, OBVIOUSLY, because Jon was weird-nice for like a week and a half then is weird-mean like he’s actually trying to be mean and hates it, and has gone from brushing off Martin all the time to pretending to brush Martin off but obviously secretly pining 

he also gives off feral apocalypse energy

Martin meanwhile is pulling this all off perfectly 

he fooled Elias and Peter and everyone else back when he was faking out the Lonely, he can handle this

Elias does notice Jon acting weird and thinks this is a soap opera workplace romance gone wrong but because he hasn’t seen all of it as Jon and Martin have been very careful to be using Martin’s Lonely powers when they want to Actually Talk and make it look like they’ve just casually wandered off when Elias isn’t paying attention to them so Elias doesn’t actually look like anything is up, he calls Jon in for a ‘performance review’ to make sure 

(Martin has Lonely powers and Jon has Archivist powers from the future and they can both feed off of the long terrible fears that they remember from the horrible horrible lives and deaths they and the entire world had in their own timeline, just give me this I need a plot device that can explain why they can Actually Talk to each other while not being able to use the tunnels) 

anyways Elias starts his performance review and pokes about Martin

‘um yeah,’ Jon confesses. ‘I um had a very awkward conversation with Martin because it seemed like he was being nice to me and I asked him about his feelings and he Confessed to me that he Liked me and I was caught by surprise and was thinking about it for a few days because idk nobody ever Likes me but then came to my senses and um but also it’s totally inappropriate because I’m his boss and I told him and we’re trying to forget that the conversation ever happened and just go back to concentrating on the statements’

‘you seem very nervous right now,’ Elias goes 

‘please do not report me to HR,’ Jon goes looking appropriately mortified and trying to remember everything Martin has been coaching him about lying by telling people what they want to hear. ‘I know I should have rejected him immediately it just caught my by surprise that he would actually Say It To My Face people have been saying a lot of honest things to my face it’s very weird and I know that I shouldn’t have run away from that conversation and acted Weird for a few days but I did come to the Correct Conclusion I am very devoted to this job and don’t want to do anything but this job and didn’t do anything with Martin we just had a conversation and I’m really trying to do a good job here and please don’t fire me’

‘nope you’re good that’s fine concentrate on your job,’ Elias says, quite satisfied that his Archivist is developing truth powers very quickly 

Tim and Sasha are not so easy to fool

Tim and Sasha find the book

Sasha, who worked in Artifact Storage, is Actually Smart and goes ‘dON’T READ THAT’

Tim reads it anyways

‘oh fuck I die stopping the apocalypse’ 

Tim doesn’t seem to die from reading the book and doesn’t seem to change except for being given this foreknowledge but Sasha is Smart so she doesn’t read it. Tim does fill her in on her future.

‘oh fuck I die when a weird worm-lady attacks? and don’t even get to help with the apocalypse? that’s bullshit.’

they start their own little huddle conspiracy 

which Martin immediately finds

‘nO YOU GUYS YOU GOTTA BE MORE CAREFUL TALKING ABOUT THIS STUFF’ Martin explains the future and methods of communicating without Elias watching, which is mostly him subtly hiding them in the Lonely

(’why do you and Jon have secret special powers that’s not fair,’ Tim goes)

(’because we went through literal hell??? and also didn’t die??? idk maybe if we keep you from dying you will also get special powers but seriously Tim they are very evil these are Evil Powers we don’t want them they just kind of happened to us in the process of trying to survive,’ Martin goes.)

‘so what is the plan,’ Sasha goes. ‘like besides us not dying how are you actually going to deal with the real apocalypse’ 

‘well we want to kill Elias but we haven’t figured that out yet because he’s watching our every move perfectly and if we’re not acting like he think we should act he’ll dispose of us and start again with a new Archivist,’ Martin goes. 

‘okay but like in your story there is a part where Peter Lukas personally escorts you to the panopticon and tells you to kill Elias/Jonas and you go no and Elias wins the bet,’ Sasha says. ‘what if you just murder him then, he says he wasn’t going to stop you and if he tries you’ve got another Avatar backing you up’

‘huh we didn’t think of that,’ Martin goes. ‘why didn’t we think of that. I swear there is a Very Good Reason we didn’t think of that. um. uh. there’s also the problem anyone working in the Archives will die if he dies unless they are powerfully enough connected the Ceaseless Watcher which is like. MAYBE Jon.’

‘W H Y did you not lead with that,’ Tim goes

‘yeah I really agree you should have led with that,’ Sasha goes 

‘this has been a very stressful time and we have been doing our best and right also everyone can quit they just need to blind themselves to do it,’ Martin goes. ‘or I guess pledge allegiance to a different evil god but that is really unpleasant you have to sacrifice fear to it or you starve’

(’okay why did you not lead with--’ Sasha goes. ‘I’m starting to really see some benefits for being an evil fear-monster,’ Tim goes. ‘Like we could be ethical evil fear-monsters. like ethical vampires. only scare really shitty terrible people who deserve it and, like, scare but not kill.’)

(Martin looks like he is about to cry.)

(’okay maybe not p l e a s e stop making that face I cannot stand your puppy-dog-but-also-on-the-verge-of-tears eyes,’ Tim goes)

(Sasha stops death-glaring at him as Martin looks slightly less like he is about to cry.)

‘so everyone loves rituals what if we, like. construct a secret ritual. that you’re saying Jon is dumb powerful chosen one Avatar right so let’s just, like. switch over being the ‘Heart of the Institute’ from Jonah to him. big proper paperwork ritual passing on of ownership claiming his position as Jonah’s heir or something,’ Sasha says 

‘that seems like just the sort of bullshit that might actually work. Sasha you are the smartest person in the world and I’m pretty sure the apocalypse wouldn’t have happened if you had survived the Prentiss attack,’ Martin says 

‘actually honestly Gertrude wanted you as her replacement that sounds very true and is probably why Elias didn’t choose you,’ Jon says. he has entered the room at this point as he was curious where literally all of his assistants had wandered off to. he does actually have work to get done the Archives are A Mess and Martin has been gone at this point for far longer than it takes to Make Tea so he figured something might be up and if there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s finding Martin in the Lonely

‘real rude to not let us in on this,’ Tim goes. ‘also are you SURE this is not a weird Leitner fucking with you’

‘we’ve obsessively kept track of the things that are supposed to be happening and they’re all happening on the right days and stuff,’ Jon goes. 

‘okay so let’s stop like two apocalypses and not die,’ Sasha goes. 

the rest of the fic is everyone subtly not-so-subtly trying to recreate the exact timeline while also making events Less Terrible while also trying to seem Not Too Competent 

because this is a fic there’s gotta be adorable ridiculous fluff so everyone decides that the Cover Story in case Elias thinks people are acting weird has got to be Jon and Martin starting to secretly date 

(Jon and Martin are in absolute h e l l over this and it is a hilarious comedy of errors because they didn’t tell everyone else that they got together they both decided that was too private so everyone else is aggressively trying to actually matchmake them through this all and they’re now too embarrassed to drop the act because Sasha has been giving them hell every time they have accidentally withheld information from her so it’s like. three layers of fake dating.) 

(Elias decides all this drama is simultaneously the funniest thing he’s ever seen but also kind of a Bad Distraction and is subtly trying to break them up but doesn’t want to mess with things too much because he is Very Impressed with all the ‘progress’ Jon is making)

(Jon who is a complete badass and is mostly desperately attempting not to reveal all his powers)

(there are also a lot of different things that can go various ways. like do Basira and Melaine still join the Institute? I think they all read the book and make Informed Decisions about their futures but I have not decided yet what those Informed Decisions are. Daisy learns how to control Hunt powers without it overwhelming her, because Tim is totally right about it being possible to be an ethical fear-monster although as Jon and Martin can draw from the fear of the apocalypse-world they don’t really need it so it’s just a question of whether or not I want to give everyone else cool powers. we’re in a fix-it fic everyone gets cool powers without terrible consequences Because I Say So)

(Elias doesn’t give them trouble over this because he is delighted that he’s kind of collecting avatars of other Entities because it makes it really easy to make sure Jon has marks and he thinks this is his genius plan going even better than expected) 

we get to episode 158 

Martin really wants to dramatically kill Elias i m m e d i a t e l y but is waiting for a walkie-talkie signal that the ritual above is going as planned so he stumbles through all of the dialogue the same 

“Then do it. Kill him and help me save the world.” Peter goes 

Martin pauses in silence because oops there’s really not that much more Avoiding he can do

“No” Martin says.

Elias starts to laugh. 

The Signal Comes Through

‘fUCK YEAH,’ Martin says. ‘F I N A L L Y. I am murdering him and I’m saving the world but this isn’t for you, asshole, and Imma deal with you next.’

stabbity stab 

it’s very satisfying 

‘okay but what do you mean it’s not for me, you’re supposed to sit in the chair and help me look for the Extinction?’ Peter goes 

‘nah fuck that I’m from the future and I do what I want that was me stopping the Jonah Magnus’s final ritual,’ Martin goes. ‘you really think I fell for that Extinction bullshit you aren’t nearly as good a liar as you think you are, you stay right there and we’ll decide what to do with you when everyone gets down here it’s Jon’s Institute now and we’re both very pissed at you’

Peter tries to escape into the Lonely 

it Does Not Work as Martin has More Angst than Peter to draw from so is Way More Powerful 

everyone gets down there 

ritual worked nobody died!

‘okay but why DON’T we try to look for the Extinction.’ Sasha says. ‘that seems to be a pretty important thing to stop.’

at this point everyone agrees Sasha has the best ideas 

have I mentioned that every single female character is very gay for Sasha

quite frankly maybe Tim too

Sasha is a Badass and this fic portrays her as Gertrude Robinson’s Rightful Heir 

she Deserves Good Things

and she is Gonna Stop All Future Apocalypses so actually going through with Peter’s plan is maybe not a terrible idea 

they do the thing but in a careful way that traps no one in the chair and get the info

the Extinction is still very stoppable 

there are lots of ways but honestly the best way to do it is to manipulate humanity into actually Being Better and not being on the brink of extinction 

‘this is my Institute now let’s use it to fucking save the world,’ Jon goes 

and they use all their knowledge and power to go from being a massive conspiracy about causing the apocalypse to being a massive conspiracy about bringing kindness and preventing wars and stopping the rise of fascism in politics and poking humanity from behind the scenes into something Better that can Rise Above its fears 

and everyone lives happily ever after 

but yeah this entire fic is around the premise of ‘what if the actual fix-it isn’t Change Everything To Stop Bad Things From Happening it’s Keep Everything The Same Until We’re Handed The Opportunity To Stab Jonah On A Silver Platter And Then Take It’ which I have yet to see a fic do and oops that kind of grew away from me there but anyways that’s it that’s the fic

[haberdashing]

The Blind Meeting The Blind

TMA fic, sequel to A Rude Awakening. A few hours after waking up blind twenty-three years in the future, Elias gets the opportunity to meet another member of the Jonah Magnus Hate Club, though it doesn’t go as smoothly as he might have hoped.

on AO3

If Elias had thought things had moved quickly when he woke up, when the news was suddenly and unceremoniously dumped on him that he had been possessed by his old boss for the last twenty-three years and that the only reason he was himself again was because he’d been forcibly blinded, well, things just kept moving at that speed from there.

First there was the confrontation in the Panopticon, taking down Jonah Magnus for good, killing the body that had kept him going for over two hundred years now. The whole thing was strange and a bit overwhelming, naturally enough, but it was... it was good, knowing nobody else would have to go through what Elias had, at least not at Magnus’ hands. Also, if he’d had any doubt about the reality of the situation, about how the man Elias had known as generally decent boss James Wright had in fact been the founder of the Magnus Institute and had royally fucked up Elias’ life to keep running it, well, that was settled there. Which wasn’t great to know, exactly, but when so much had been up in the air, Elias didn’t entirely mind having a bit more certainty about his current situation.

Then there was the others--Jon, Basira, Daisy, and Martin--all rushing to explain a great number of things to Elias, some of which made his head spin, some of which didn’t seem possible, and yet all of which he was at this point willing to accept as his new reality, because it made more sense than any alternative he could come up with.

First, after Jonah Magnus was finally dead, the others explained how their lives, too, had been changed for the worse by Magnus’ actions in one way or another. Elias couldn’t help but think that he’d gotten the worst lot of the bunch, even after he knew what the others had gone through, but he kept his mouth shut about that. All that voicing that opinion would do was lead to arguments and risk alienating the few people Elias knew now, the few people he could tentatively see as his allies in this strange new world.

Then there was the explanation of the fear entities, how the Magnus Institute had always been dedicated to the service of the one Jon had called the Eye or the Beholding before, how there were thirteen other entities much like it dedicated to other commonplace fears, how people’s lives could be upended by encounters arranged in some way by these fear entities, how some actually chose to willingly serve one of them and were forever changed by that decision.

Oh, and apparently the world had ended, which really seemed like it should have come up a lot sooner in the conversation than it did. Apparently it was just common knowledge at this point, though, and everyone who hadn’t been unconscious for the last few months was beginning to take it for granted. Magnus had arranged for it to happen, apparently, had voluntarily assisted in letting all fourteen fears loose on the world. Had done it using Elias’ body, of course, but the others were very clear on the point that this didn’t make any of it Elias’ fault, though he hadn’t honestly thought about it that way before they all went out of their way to reassure him otherwise.

(Even with all this information being dumped on him en masse, Elias got the feeling that a few things were being left out or glossed over. Things that were more personal, perhaps, or things that might be sore spots for other members of this motley crew he had found himself part of.

For instance, all of them had seemed eager to touch briefly on the point that people could serve fears and then quickly move on without much in the way of further discussion, and Martin in particular seemed determined to reassure Elias that just because Jonah Magnus had used his body to end the world didn’t mean that the world ending was in some way his fault, while Jon was the lone man out in not uttering any of those same reassurances.

There were stories there, clearly, things purposely left unsaid, but Elias didn’t push to find out what exactly it was they were avoiding telling him. Those stories would come out in their own time, he figured. Better not to rock the boat.)

And after all of that, there was more, because aside from everything else Elias was in the future now, twenty-three years into the future--alright, maybe it was everybody else’s present day, and sure it wasn’t technically time travel, but that didn’t stop 2019 from still sounding more like the setting of a mediocre sci-fi movie than the actual current calendar year--and with that came a lot of mundane information to catch up on.

(Though sometimes it seemed like the others didn’t even remember 1996, or know how far back that really was compared to the present day, thought he needed introductions to things he already knew about--yes, Martin, he knows what the Internet is, thank you!)

So much had changed in politics, in entertainment, in technology... as their little group made their way to a restaurant (or maybe it was a bar? Elias wasn’t sure, and the name of the place sounded like it could go either way) for a celebration and a rendezvous with some like-minded souls, the others explained to Elias how cell phones had become both so common that it was unusual for somebody to not have one and so powerful that, despite by and large being smaller than the cell phones he was used to, the vast majority of them could wirelessly connect to the Internet in one way or another.

(Martin had even lent Elias his own cell phone to examine for a moment until all involved parties realized that without enabling some settings that none of them knew off-hand how to enable, all Elias could tell was that he was holding a smooth chunk of metal and plastic and glass and that it made various electronic sounds when he touched it or pressed any of its several buttons. Martin had meant well, at least. A for effort there.)

As Basira helped guide Elias into a seat, Martin asked, “Want me to put some music on? No use in having a smartphone if it doesn’t get to do anything smart, right?”

“Elias should probably get dibs, he’s never even used a smartphone before.” Daisy paused for a moment before adding, “My money’s on the Spice Girls.”

“What?”

“It’s era-appropriate, isn’t it?”

“Basira, don’t tell me you’re taking her side on this one.”

“Bet we could find an album from 1997 you’ve never even heard before, blow your little Spice Girls-loving mind.”

“But- no, I-” Elias turned towards Martin and, more importantly, away from Basira and Daisy, not really in order to hear Martin better but just to make a point. “Something from the Beatles, maybe? The Beatles are nice.”

“Beatles it is!” Martin started tap-tap-tapping away on his phone to get the music to play.

Here comes the sun, doo-do doo-doo...

“Oh, you’re no fun.”

Here comes the sun, and I say...

“Shut up.”

It’s all right.

Despite his banter with Daisy, only some of which was entirely facetious, Elias started to smile. Some of what caused his heightened mood was the choice of music to play in the background--he’d grown up listening to Beatles albums, wishing he could’ve seen them in concert, and hearing their music always reminded him of a simpler time, before Mum had died and everything had gone to hell. Some of it was the lyrics of this particular song--the world may have ended, and a lot may have changed very quickly, but he’d found a group of people who understood, who’d helped him through the worst of it, and...

Well, “all right” might be a bit of a stretch, but at least things probably weren’t going to get any worse.

That would take some real creativity on the universe’s part, for starters...

Little darling, it’s been a long cold lonely winter...

Not long after Martin stopped tapping at his phone, Elias heard a different tap-tap-tapping in the background loud enough to be audible over the music, the sound of something hitting the wood floor again and again, moving slightly closer each time.

Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here...

“Melanie! Good to see you!”

Martin mumbled a quick “I’ll just put this away” and turned off the music he’d been playing, which was definitely the polite thing to do given the situation, but it still irked Elias some to have the music he was enjoying turned off so abruptly.

Elias turned to face Melanie, or at least to face in her general direction, shooting her an awkward grin and a silent wave, neither of which prompted any reaction he could discern.

A new voice--Melanie’s, presumably--spoke up, but didn’t quite return the group’s greeting as she pulled up a seat and flopped into it. “So you did it, then?” In a slightly lower tone of voice, a bit like a stage whisper, she added, “He’s dead?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we did it.”

“Thank God. I’ll drink to that--and I’m buying this time, too.”

“Oh, you’re buying? In that case...” Daisy raised her voice, making it ring throughout the... Elias still wasn’t sure if it was a restaurant or a bar, though his money would be on it being a combination of the two, as she said, “Hey, what’s the most expensive thing you’ve got to drink in here?”

“Yeah, yeah... pull a stunt like that and I’ll do it right back when it’s your turn to pick up the tab.”

“You would, wouldn’t you.”

“Round of Old Canoe for the table?” Basira suggested.

The group murmured a few words of assent, and Basira got up, presumably to hunt down their server.

“I thought Georgie was coming.” Jon said. He sounded surprised, but also... sad? Wistful? More emotional than Jon seemed to be most of the time, at any rate.

“She came down with a nasty cold yesterday.” Melanie replied. “Said she’d have to take a rain check on celebrating. Thought I should stay home too, but I told her I’d make it here just fine on my own. Which I did, obviously.” There was an edge to that last phrase, but though Elias could guess it had something to do with her not wanting to be underestimated, any further details were lost on him. (Another story left unspoken there, he presumed.)

“Ah. Well, when you see her, tell her... tell her I hope she feels better soon.”

“Right.”

A moment later, and six glasses of beer were set on the table, one for each member of their little group.

“Cheers?”

“Cheers!”

Everyone clinked their glasses together--somebody bumped their glass into Elias’ fingers at one point, but the minor ache that followed barely even registered against the background noise of agony that remained in the holes where his eyes should be--and then drank as one. The beer tasted awful, but Elias just kept gulping it down just the same, caring less about the taste than about the sheer alcohol content involved; if there’d ever been a night that called for some drinking, this had to be it.

Elias was a little ashamed to realize that he was the last one to set his beer glass down, having emptied it entirely before he did so.

“That tasted absolutely disgusting,” Elias pronounced, “and I want another glass of it immediately.”

Elias had expected this to prompt another round of banter, perhaps offense either real or feigned from Basira for not caring for her choice of beer.

Elias had not expected Melanie to burst out saying, “Why is Elias here?”

Elias had to think for a moment before responding. “Oh, we’ve, uh, we’ve met then?”

“Don’t even start with that, I’ve had more than enough of your fucking mind games already, I know my asshole ex-boss’ voice when I hear it!”

Somewhere in Elias’ mind, he quietly filed away Melanie’s outburst as proof that Daisy hadn’t been lying when she’d said some people had known him--or rather, known Jonah Magnus in his body, really--as “that asshole.” Great reputation to start out with right there. Thanks again, Jonah Magnus.

“Maybe he had my voice, but unless we met back before 1996 and I don’t remember, that- that wasn’t actually me you-”

Melanie spoke over Elias, apparently not caring enough about his words to even let him finish saying them all. Rude. “I thought you killed him! I thought that was the whole point! Didn’t you say you killed him?”

A few “shhh”s rang out through the table, presumably because talking loudly in a public place about having killed people was generally not a good life decision, but after that, it seemed like Elias wasn’t the only one scrambling to come up with a suitable response.

“We did kill him!”

“Sort of.”

“Yeah, sort of, it’s all a bit complicated...”

Melanie scoffed. “If you guys are letting Elias of all people pull some- some power of friendship bullshit, well, count me out.”

“It’s not like that!”

“What is it like, then?” The disbelief was practically dripping off Melanie’s words.

“It’s like some old bastard from the 1800s just finished hijacking my body for the last two decades and counting, that’s what it’s like!”

Elias got the feeling, in the uncomfortable silence that followed, that the others hadn’t actually expected him to butt in like that, that they had thought he would just sit back and listen quietly while they debated, well, him.

Melanie’s voice sounded a little less hostile when she spoke up again, which wasn’t saying much, but the disbelief from before was still there in full force. “Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“And do you have proof?” Elias opened his mouth to respond, but before he could settle on a word with which to begin his rebuttal, Melanie had already continued on. “And sob stories don’t count as proof. I already know you’re good at twisting words, I don’t need more of that. I want evidence.”

“I...”

Elias let the words trail off as he realized that evidence was something he was sorely lacking in at the moment.

How could he prove who he wasn’t? How could he prove that he wasn’t the asshole who’d taken over his life for decades without warning? How could he prove what he didn’t remember, what he didn’t know...

Wait. Knowing. That was it.

Elias turned towards Jon.

“Jon. That- that thing you did when we met, where you asked me about who I was and I had to tell you... somehow... can you do that again?”

Jon let out a long, low sigh before replying. “Compelling people isn’t some sort of parlor trick, Elias.”

“But it makes people have to tell you stuff, have to tell the truth, right? That’d- that’d have to work, wouldn’t it?” Elias turned back towards Melanie, though he naturally couldn’t see the expression on her face as he added, with a wry smile, “That’s got to be evidence.”

“Hang on.” Melanie said. “Didn’t you already try that on Elias once, and it didn’t work right, because... because Elias?”

“That was then. Things have changed... a lot of things have changed. It-” Jon sighed again, softly. “It would work now. Already did, in fact.”

“Then do it.” Elias insisted.

“You... you want me to compel an answer out of you?”

“Yes!” Elias responded, so quickly and emphatically that he wondered if that answer itself had been compelled, either purposely or accidentally.

“...fine then. Who are you, and why should we trust you?”

Elias could feel the compulsion for sure this time, the pressure, the tingle, as the words started spilling out of his mouth before he thought them through. Getting magically compelled to tell the truth was an odd feeling, and an odder one to start to be getting used to, and yet, here he was.

“I’m Elias Bouchard. Only child of Julian and Nancy Bouchard. Mum’s dead, though, has been since I was twelve. Dad might be too now, I suppose, ‘s not like I’ve had the time to check. As of a couple hours ago--or, or what feels like a couple hours ago, in May 1996--I was James Wright’s secretary back in the Magnus Institute, possible promotion under discussion. So we’ve got the Institute background in common, I think, but based on what I’ve heard, that might make you trust me less if anything. If there’s something I can be sure we have in common, though, it’s that we all hate Jonah Magnus. Bastard took twenty-three years of my life away--would’ve taken it all if you lot hadn’t stepped in, I suppose. Sounds like you’ve all taken a dislike to him as well for one reason or another. So that’s- that’s what I have to offer for myself. Just another member of the Jonah Magnus... what’s the opposite of a fan club? Anti-fan club? Hate club? The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and all that, right? Though he’s dead now, so...”

Elias had to take a few deep breaths when he was done, and his hands were shaking a little. That was... that was more than he’d expected to get into with that speech. Came with the whole compelling thing, he supposed, but still, it was strange to be involuntarily spilling his life story to a group of near-strangers.

As Elias focused on his breathing, he heard somebody laughing loudly, and realized with a start that it was Melanie.

“The Jonah Magnus Hate Club... God, I like the sound of that.”

“You- you believe me, then? Because I’m not sure what else I can do to prove it, but I swear, just because I’ve got the same face and voice as he had when- when using my body- it doesn’t mean that was me-”

“Well, I can’t exactly see your face, anyway.”

It took Elias a moment to put the pieces together, and when he did, his stomach lurched a little. He was starting to regret that beer. “They gouged your eyes out too, then?”

“What? No!” Before Elias could ask for clarification, Melanie continued, with a strange pride in her voice, “Took them out all by myself.”

“Wait, but you weren’t possessed by Magnus-”

“Close enough. I was stuck in the Institute, doing his dirty work, helping literally bring about the end of the world-”

Martin butted in at this point. “We didn’t know that part!”

“The specifics, no, but the general shape of it all...” Melanie let out a sigh before continuing. “Blinding myself... wasn’t exactly ideal, but it was sure as hell better than the alternative.”

“Well, that much I get. If the others didn’t take my eyes out, I guess I’d be either--either still possessed or just plain dead, I suppose. So yeah, I’ll take this over the alternative any day.”

Melanie drummed her fingers on the table for a long moment. “...can we start over? I never really... introduced myself properly, did I?”

“Sure.” Elias let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“My name’s Melanie King. Was a professional ghost hunter-” God, Elias could hear his father’s voice in his head saying that that didn’t count as a real profession, but like hell was he going to give a voice to his father’s uppity opinions. “-then got roped into being an archival assistant for the Magnus Institute. Worked there for a few months, realized it was literally evil, got out the only way I could a few weeks before the world ended. Been living with Georgie ever since.”

Elias still didn’t know who Georgie was besides “the person that Melanie was living with” (and a suspicion, based on Jon’s reaction to her absence, that there was some history between the two of them), but, well, the puzzle pieces were starting to come together a bit more, even if more and more of them kept getting chucked at his head erratically as the hours went by.

“Got it. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Melanie King.”

“Same to you, Elias... Bouchard... sorry, that just sounds really weird, since you- well, not you--but ‘Elias Bouchard’ was my jerk boss-”

“It’s fine, I get it.” He didn’t get it, really, didn’t fully get a lot of this still, and calling it all fine was arguable as well, but a few white lies were worth it to preserve the fragile peace still being formed, Elias figured.

“You know what’s funny?”

“What?”

“I tried to kill you a couple times. Well, not you-you of course, but...”

Elias felt the tips of his mouth curling ever so slightly upwards. “Honestly? Can’t say that I blame you.”

[fates-theysband]

Chronophobia

Rating: T

Ship: Aeren Chapman/Tim Stoker (vaguely alluded to; this is more of a narrative oc profile)

Warnings: mentions of decapitation and vivisection, vaguely described gore, blood, head trauma, canon-typical thanatophobia triggers, more than canon-typical swearing (not in that order)

i literally am not capable of just writing a fic, it all has to be vaguely epistolary bs like “craigslist missed connection” and “basically a script for an episode of tma”. Jon’s dialogue is in bold, to make up for the fact that there’s not a single dialogue tag in this whole mess

--

"Statement of Avery Chapman, regarding the bizarre events preceding the death of their twin sibling Aeren Chapman. Statement taken direct from subject, twenty-third June two thousand and sixteen. Statement begins."

"Look, this isn't going to cast me in a great light to start off with, but I lied to get in the door. I mean, can you blame me? If I had let me in, and I’d heard the truth, I would've been like, 'We don't have time for pranksters, come back when you have an actual statement to give.' Because, I mean, come on. What I'm about to tell you sounds like bullshit. The truth is, I'm not Avery Chapman, and my statement has nothing to do with any events from before Aeren died. So, let me give you a more accurate version of what you just said."

"Statement of Aeren Chapman, regarding the bizarre events following their own untimely death. There, now it's on the record. Let's get into it.”

"My entire life, I could hear a ticking clock. Not literally. But I was always thinking about the time. How long would it take to do this? How much time until that? Will I be able to do everything I want or need before time runs out? Nobody really understood, of course. From the day I was old enough to even communicate that kind of feeling, all I ever heard was, 'Don't worry, you're young! You have all the time in the world!' And it was the same, right up until the end. I mean, guess that's not really fair to my folks. They tried to get me help, usually in the form of allergy meds that kind of had anti-anxiety properties in low lighting if you were really trying to see 'em. I've never been a cheap drunk and since my grandpappy on my mom’s side was, every psych I went to see was too scared of the Ghost of Addictions Past to give me anything that worked. So instead, I lived with the clock. And I got really good at pretending it wasn't there. Sometimes I could even enjoy the moment."

"That changed when I got older, of course. I'm from the US, if you couldn't tell from the...everything about me, and you probably can at least guess how it is over there. Go, go, go, until you drop dead if necessary, to appease the almighty money line. And unlike with school, with work you don't exactly get summers off. So that ticking clock came back full force. I remember, one time, my roommates and I were going to get carry-out and watch a movie, and I had work in the morning. One of my roommates, Jace, went out to pick up the food, and I guess he got stuck in traffic or something, because he didn't get back for an hour and all I could think was 'that's one less hour I have to actually relax before I have to get up and go back to work tomorrow', and I was on edge the entire rest of the night. Couldn't enjoy the movie, was short with Jace and Holly every time they tried to make conversation...just being a real irritable asshole."

"That was pretty close to when it happened, actually. Maybe a few weeks or so. I guess that would explain a lot. It doesn't matter what happened to me the night I died. All you really need to know is that it was violent, gruesome, and traumatic. For some reason, it didn't even register to me that I was dying until I realized I could hear the ticking, for real this time. With every single step it got louder and louder, matching pace with my feet staggering down the pavement as my body was basically falling apart below me, until I finally rounded a corner and collapsed. And then the ticking stopped, and I looked up."

"I could see a skeleton sitting in front of me, but...not the way a corpse would be sitting. Not the way I was sitting. They were sitting criss-cross applesauce, and for how old and dusty the bones looked I was shocked to see that they were dressed pretty young for, you know, a skeleton. Big skirt, peace sign shirt, hippie headband, that kind of thing. Could've died in the seventies, could have died last year. I didn't get to really figure that out before they motioned to the things laid out in front of them. Game tokens. Not an exhaustive amount of them, but I could see a chess piece, a die, and a deck of cards. All bone, because apparently every single psychopomp’s a corny bastard. I tried to decline. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I was sick of the clock and I couldn't see an upside to going back to it. They laughed at me. Not out loud, but they made the motions. Then they urged me to pick a token again. Asshole."

"By the way, turns out Death knows Yahtzee. I wouldn't say I expected to win. I wasn't even sure I hoped to win. All I wanted was an end to the not knowing. I figured something out that night, Archivist. It’s not death humans are afraid of, it’s uncertainty. If we knew for sure exactly what happened after we died, I don’t think anyone would be afraid to die.”

“Guess this goes without saying, but I won. Didn’t even cheat, just got a few really good rolls. I didn’t really know what to expect; I figured my insides would knit themselves back together and I’d rejoin the world of the living instead of playing Yahtzee with a hippie skeleton in a dark alley on a street that was normally a hell of a lot busier. That I’d go back to the miserable job and the crappy apartment and the ticking clock. But that isn’t what happened. If it was I would’ve taken this whole experience to my permanent grave. I mean, someone’s insides got knitted back together that night. But they weren’t mine. I watched the flesh fall off my bones as the skeleton in the long skirt became more and more alive, until a flesh-and-blood girl who couldn’t have been older than me stood up and left the alley. I think she said something to me as she was leaving. I want to say it was ‘forgive me’, but I’m thinking it was ‘better you than me’. For some reason I wasn’t scared or sad or anything but relieved. It sounds fucked up, I know, but have you ever lived a life where you had nothing to look forward to? At least with this I could see a way out.”

“I won’t bore you describing the interim. You look like a smart guy, you’re probably familiar with what the Grim Reaper does. What matters is how I got all the meat back. And why I’m wearing this massive coat and knit cap in June.” “You see, most people in the few years I did this were partial to the chance games, or low-skill board games. Roulette was a big one. So was blackjack. Someone got smart and tried Candyland once. But only one person ever picked chess.”

“He was maybe mid-thirties. Wasn’t really sure what had happened to him but he was covered in blood and terrified. I’d say ‘scared to death’ but that seems gauche. I don’t understand chess beyond the basic object of the game and what the different pieces can do, but even I could tell this guy was either terrible at chess or not in the right mental place to be making strategic decisions in a game for his life. Or both. Both is always an option."

“I could have wiped the floor with him, even with my lack of skill. He pretty much put his king in check by himself, all I did was avoid his clumsy attempts to capture my pieces. Here’s where you probably think I’m about to say ‘this is where I got sloppy’ or some shit like that. No. I knew exactly what I was doing and I meant to do it.” 

“I’d say it was agonizingly long, but really, any amount of time is agonizingly long when the action is ‘playing chess in complete silence under a bridge somewhere in London’. But after the most frustrating game of my life, my clueless savior checkmated me. I told him I was sorry as I left. I don't know if he heard me over the screaming."

"Just like that, it was over. Quick trip to a library told me it had been about three years since I won the most important game of Yahtzee ever, and that same quick trip found me an extended family member in the area who didn't ask too many questions. Weird, really. Always thought my dad was an only child. But that's beside the point. Since becoming flesh again a few months ago, I haven't heard the ticking clock, metaphorically or literally. I suffered the agony of death and the indignity of reaping, and came out the same as I've ever been.”

“Or so I thought. Here’s the thing: whatever chose me that night didn’t like that ending for me. The dying are supposed to try to cheat Death. It’s in their nature. If they win by successfully cheating, more power to them. But Death is impartial. Death isn’t supposed to cheat. And Death certainly isn’t supposed to get clever and throw the game. Which brings me to the main reason I'm here, I guess. Give me a moment."

[There is a sound of a heavy coat hitting the floor]

"I normally don't wear tank tops, but in this case it's kind of important that I show as much as I can. Check this out."

[There is a sound of something unzipping]

"They unzip into shorts. Best sixteen pounds I ever spent. Would've just worn shorts, but with how big this coat is I would've looked like a flasher. And now, off with the hat. Don't freak out."

"Good god, what happened to you!?"

"I literally JUST said not to freak out, dude. Impressive you managed to keep it together up until the bleeding head wound though. A lesser man might have said that when he saw the sutures."

"None of this stuff actually happened to me, of course. Not in the sense that I was ever actually physically vivisected or beheaded or whacked in the head hard enough to crack my skull. These just happen to me. I wake up with them, for the most part. And...well, I'll spare you the gruesome stuff, but they're not stitched up neatly when I get them. Thank god Cousin Jesse's a passable seamstress, because hospitals tend to lose their shit when you bring in a patient who's still up walking around with several fatal wounds and no detectable pulse. Not something I want to deal with twice."

"So that's the whole story, I guess. I broke the rules, and now I'm suffering the consequences. The wounds go away, after a while. At first I thought it was mercy, but now I know it's because if some of them didn't disappear there eventually wouldn't be enough left of me to keep punishing. And, I'm not exactly an expert, but I think I'm supposed to suffer the damage from every single gruesome, unimaginably painful death that's ever happened to a human being before I'll be free. That's a lot of deaths. Good thing I have all the time in the world, I guess."

"Statement ends."

“Awesome. Is that all you need from me?”

“I believe so.”

“Great. Let me just get all my coverups back on...”

“Don’t forget your...trouser legs.”

“Of course not.”

[There is a sound of something zipping.]

“Uh, if I don’t see him on my way out, can you tell that hot guy with the undercut who showed me the way to your office that I’m sorry I ran into him? I turned the corner too fast and damn near hip-checked the poor guy into a wall. Not a great first impression.”

“I suppose so.”

“Thanks a bunch. I’d ask you to give him my number, too, buuuut right now I only have a home phone. Oh well. Later, skater.”

[Click.]

[yszarin]

see below for mostly incoherent thoughts on I Guess You Had To Be There

- “I woke up, and... ghost.” She’s wonderful. I hope she isn’t a monster. Also all this going back to sleep? excellent.

- well, I was fully expecting her to turn into a monster, but she didn’t? and now I’m just Deeply Suspicious. of all of it. why would we have a nice thing.

- I’m worried too, “John Smith”, but mostly about Tim at the moment. He sounds, well, very good with the statement giver at the moment, but also Tired.

- oh, we’ll call him Jeremy, will we?

- Robin, I am very much a dog person, please tell me all about your dog, any dogs you know, and any dogs you may have seen. Basira, I fear, may not be a dog person, or, at the very least, is concentrating on doing her job.

- I would like to congratulate Jackie for being what I think is the podcast’s first named dog! very proud. and even if she isn’t. congratulations. good dog.

- so there’s no coherency because Jon isn’t there? turns out this maybe wasn’t a nice thing.

- moving out, an excellent decision.

- so it turns out the real horror was awkwardness all along.

- please don’t pay her. wouldn’t that upset the academic whatsit? guess it doesn’t matter so much in TMA because if it’s not real it’ll go on the laptop but in general.

- Martiiiin. I would die for you.

- Is this why he couldn’t get a job in retail? too much of a giant awkward puffball. 

- help me I’m too overcome with love for Martin Blackwood to feel any of the second-hand embarrassment that should, by rights, be flattening me.

- it’s possible that he got to pet Jackie though? assuming that Robin brought her to the Institute. he could really do with petting a dog. they probably all could, but I feel like Martin would get the most out of it.

- imagine if we’d had Martin taking Robin’s statement. we could have had a five minute conversation about Jackie. that’s probably why he didn’t take the dog-walker’s statement.

- “I would have been late for dinner, so I got out of the spiral, and went to dinner.” What an icon. These statement-givers are all icons.

- “There’s tea there” is the best comforting phrase ever, I love this episode, it’s so shiny.

- oh. abort. what a nice cheerful polite monster (and I was just wishing we’d get to meet an Isolation monster the other day, and here one is!)? also poor Brian. at least there might not be spiders in the alone?

- Peter Lukas’ static-y thing is... different? to Jon’s static, it’s screechier? but maybe not as screechy as Michael’s, or Michael’s has more of one tone where as this is different ones? Jon’s is more crackly. Not sure what this means or if it even means anything, I just quite like it. Someone please tell me things about static.

- I am now fully expecting that everything in this episode will turn out to be Very Relevant and Important later.

- I want to Analyse but I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be Analysing? they’re all being recorded on-tape, so are presumably Genuine Happenings but they’re also not the way we expect them to be? Presumably this is because Jon isn’t there, and that an Archivist needs to be In Place for story-mode, which would link nicely to the episode title. How long has he not been there for, since someone hasn’t had the decency to date either his own kidnapping or his recordings? (please, Jonathan, if you learn nothing else from Gertrude, learn “committed to tape [date]”)

- Georgie’s statement was given on 29th April, Brian’s is from the 26th May. But Jon has recorded three statements since Georgie’s, including a trip to Newcastle, one to the Trophy Room, a visit from Nikola, and enough time for Georgie to change all her lightbulbs. So it could have theoretically taken him all that time to reach the end of Dust to Dust, especially as, according to Elias, his recordings are inconsistent. Melanie says he’s on leave, Martin says he’s not in, but this could be about his staying at Georgie’s or being off with Daisy, as much as it could be about him being missing. I suppose we’ll see if we get an abduction episode with the date? It seems like the Archives breaking down without the Archivist is The Thing, but Martin’s recording on the 2nd May, three days after Georgie’s statement, doesn’t seem to leave enough time for the intervening stuff, unless the breakdown started before he was taken?

- But, if they are Genuine, and we’re Analysing - the spiders in Brian’s statement seem almost Spiral-y? as in, I would say they were a Spiral Entity if they weren’t, well, spiders; they're messing with his perception and driving him to his current state. But they are also spiders. No reason why they couldn’t be both I guess?

- Anyway. I loved this episode, and I loved it as Episode 100 - it reminded me somewhat of Stargate SG-1′s e100 and e200, in that, rather than do something like rip all our souls out and stamp on them etc etc (as I was very much expecting), it was a bit more lighthearted, and involved taking something of a look at itself (though admittedly the awkward!Institute skews a little more serious, seems to have more underlying meaning than Wormhole X-Treme!). The statement-givers are a little closer to Jonathan’s original attitudes towards them in S1, as the Institute would be if it weren’t Genuine, and it was lovely to hear some more of the rest of the RQ crew. All in all a lovely episode, at first taking away some of the sting from last week’s cliffhanger as we go into the midseason break, and then quietly giving some of it back. Also there was a dog.

[oliverprescott]

The Zombie Apocalypse - a bit more

Every so often we would come across abandoned cars, look confusedly and then go, oh yeah, the apocalypse!

Eventually, we came across a corner shop.

‘Oh you know what I’m just going to go in and get a can. Do you want a can?’

‘Yes I think I’ll have a can,’ Chris said.

We went inside. We took a can and waited to pay. There was no-one at the register.

‘Hello?’ I shouted.

Nothing.

‘Oh yeeeah,’ I said, ‘the apocalypse.’ Chris scoffed a little. I think He was getting tired of that joke.

‘Oh well. We can’t pay.’ We made to leave, then Chris piped up.

‘You know, we…we probably…we probably could just take it?’

‘You think? Well, yeah, sure. It’s an apocalypse.’

That was the turning point. We stuffed our bags with cans and tins and flour for some reason, and went on. I later regretted taking so much flour, but it’s a basic ingredient and we figured, you never know. I regretted it in…four pages’ time.

It was time to get to know each other.

‘So, what’s your full name Chris?’

‘Chris Tmas.’

‘Seriously?’ I said.

‘Nah but I always wished it was that.’ He looked downcast, possibly the most downcast since I met him, which was strange, I mean, he knew the end of the world had happened right?

‘It could be that now you know. There’s an apocalypse. No-one is going to check.’

‘You know what? I just might well do that!’ He perked up after that.

‘Are you going to?’ I asked.

‘Nah probably not. I imagine I’ll forget.’

‘And what did you do before all this started?’

‘All this? It was only this morning. Don’t be so dramatic!’

I didn’t finish this chapter, because I just fancied changing subject and doing the next one. Maybe I will finish it, I don’t know. Maybe not. Why do you even care?

Twooo

‘Uh-oh,’ the old man said, ‘acid rain’s a-coming! This damn apocalypse gosh darnit!’

‘Where are you from?’ I wondered with my mouth.

‘Nottingham,’ the old man said.

‘Then why you talking like you’re from Texas?’ I may have snapped but I mean, who does that?

‘Just, er, um, just trying out a new character.’ He looked kinda embarrassed.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I think I came across a bit rude.’

‘A little bit, yes.’

‘It’s a good character. I was trying one from Russia last week.’

‘Oh yeah?’ He brightened up a bit. ‘And how was it?’

‘Didn’t take.’

We’d come across an old man sitting in a chair. He had a gun, but it was one of those plastic guns you get in toy shops. Still, surprising how much of an effect it had.

‘Ways I sees it, we could all be having different characters,’ the old man said.

I had actually been working quite a while on my Russian character, and it was really good. A few people had complimented me on it, and I just didn’t want to make the old man feel bad. Honestly though, his American character sucked asses.

At that moment the heaven’s opened and it began raining acid. With acid rain dropping on his face, he couldn’t believe his eyes, as they fell down his cheek. The old man stayed but didn’t say ‘I’m melting, I’m melting’ in a witch’s accent. I mean, if there was ever a time to say that, now was it. Anyway, we ran for cover in a nearby van. Fortunately it was the kind of acid rain that doesn’t affect large motor vehicles.

‘We’re going to have to find somewhere to live. We can’t keep walking around everywhere, getting caught in acid rain. To be sure, this acid rain is really trying.’ I was doing an Irish accent.

‘Tell me aboot it.’ It sounded like Chris was trying an accent himself.

‘Are you doing a Scottish accent?’

‘What?’ Chris said.

‘Your accent, are you doing a Scottish accent?’

‘Why would I be doing a Scottish accent?’ he asked.

‘Because, you know…didn’t you even hear the conversation with the old man?’

‘No, sorry, I was distracted.’

‘Oh, well it’s…ah I can’t be bothered to explain.’

The acid shower lasted about ten minutes. It might have been twelve. We got out and surprisingly things smelled a little fresher. It was like the tarmac had been scrubbed, much like a person might scrub their back in a shower, but a shower made of acid. We walked on.

‘You know I’m really regretting taking all this flour.’

‘Yup.’

Shortly, we found a house. It was a terraced house, so we really could’ve chosen any, but for the purposes of the book, we’ll say it was this one, number 42. I could have picked any other significant number, like 221B, or 3.14…oh, 3.14 would’ve been good. Still, I’m going with 42. I knocked at the door. ‘There’s no-one in.’

‘It really looks like there’s someone in.’

‘Yeah, and look.’ The door was unlocked. ‘If it’s unlocked, there must be someone in.’

‘Oh yeah. I just remembered. The apocalypse.’ I thought it was a good moment to do that joke. Chris didn’t.

‘You know that apocalypse joke is getting old.’

‘Yeah, shall I stop saying it?’ I asked.

‘Nah, it just needs spicing up a bit. I’m sure you can think of something.’

We went inside.

‘Hello! Hello!’ Nothing. I thought maybe my Russian character might help.

‘Hello, we are here to help!’ I shouted (in a Russian accent. You’ll have to do it.)

‘If this house is empty, we could stay here. It’ll be better than sleeping in acid rain,’ I helpfully suggested.

‘Oh yes, I’d take a nice bed over acid rain any day!’ He said it kind of sarcastically. I don’t know why, because it was such an obvious assertion.

‘Yeah,’ I replied, ‘ain’t that the truth.’ I think this was a better reaction than clocking him over the head, which is what I was going to do.

‘Well, I don’t think anyone is here.’

‘Toby! Toby!’ He came rushing to me. I should probably say he’d gone to have a look around the house but, well, you get the idea. I missed a bit. I never said I was a good writer, I’m just good in apocali, and I’m not even very good at that. ‘Look what I found, look! Come here!’

I followed him to the kitchen, and he went to the freezer.

‘Jackpot.’ The freezer was still working and it was full of frozen broccoli.

‘I mean, it’s a pretty good find. I do like broccoli.’ I had to give it to him, it was a pretty good find. I was probably a little jealous over it, but I didn’t let on. Chris took it out.

‘Praise be!’

Uff, I thought, who is this guy? ‘Praise be?’ He’s such a dinkus.

‘Well I’m going to get started on this broccoli. I’ve got a really good recipe.’

Seriously, who has recipes for broccoli? It’s broccoli.

‘Great!’ I said, ‘that sounds amazing!’

He was working on it for about two hours. Let’s say in that time I’d boarded up the windows with boards and nails like he’d asked me. I’d definitely not just sat on the bean bag playing solitaire.

‘It’s ready Toby!’ I was so hungry. Starving. Famished. Ok, not famished, but the second one, starving. I was very, very, hungry. I went to the table and sat down. He put a glass in front of me, containing a green liquid.

‘Broccoli juice.’

‘Broccoli juice?’

‘Yep.’

‘How did you make the broccoli juice?’

‘With the frozen broccoli.’

‘And what about the broccoli?’

‘Oh.’ Silence. ‘Just kidding. We’re having broccoli as well.’

It was a nice moment, and a nice night’s sleep. It was the best night’s sleep I’d gotten since, well, the night before I guess when there wasn’t the apocalypse.

[haberdashing]

Curiosity

TMA fic, part of my Elias Feels series. Elias Bouchard and Jonathan Sims have an uncomfortable but ultimately helpful conversation.

on AO3

They were having another get-together. “They” being the weird gaggle of people who hate Jonah Magnus that Elias Bouchard had found himself growing closer to as he got used to living in 2019, that is. Georgie--who turned out to be Melanie’s girlfriend as well as her living partner, which wasn’t all that much of a surprise to Elias, really--had gotten over her cold, and they were celebrating Magnus’ death again, though this time Georgie and Melanie were hosting at their place.

Elias still felt like he didn’t quite belong in the group, for a couple reasons. For one, they all by and large shared a history that he was missing--two histories, really, one big picture and one on a more personal level. It was one thing to be told it’s 2019 now and another to catch all the new slang and jargon and references that had come to be since 1996; it was one thing to be told a tale of paranormal happenings and another to understand brief references and allusions to events and powers that he hadn’t experienced firsthand.

(Christ, he didn’t even believe in the paranormal--well, hadn’t in 1996. Even while working as James Wright’s personal secretary, and Elias had known well enough that James was a fervent believer in the supernatural, even before he’d learned that James himself was supernatural. The trick, one that Elias had honed over the years, was to get a handle on people’s expectations and preferences and follow them or flout them as best suited his own purpose, and with something as important as a potential career that often meant smiling and nodding and pretending he agreed wholeheartedly with his immediate superiors. Oh, absolutely, the supernatural is real, these statements are important, of course, now where am I supposed to file this one again?)

Also, while he had been absent for all that history, Jonah Magnus using his body had been all too present, and though everyone was at least willing to believe that he wasn’t the same guy, he could sense that it was still... awkward for them. Couldn’t blame them, he supposed, but he couldn’t help having the face and voice they associated with the asshole who’d ruined their lives, either.

It wasn’t too much of a surprise, then, that Elias was already literally as well as physically on the outskirts of things when Jon gently nudged his shoulder and whispered, “Can I have a word with you in private, Eli?”

There was something in Jon’s tone that reminded Elias uncomfortably of being taken aside by a schoolteacher after misbehaving, but then again, he wasn’t positive that that wasn’t just his imagination, that that wasn’t just Jon.

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

They navigated into a side room, Elias gently smacking Jon with his cane when he tried to guide Elias’ walking a little too much for his own comfort. (Melanie was a godsend, really. She’d been through a lot of what he had, knew the right numbers to call, the right doctors to consult. He was already starting to get comfortable using a cane, though he still missed his eyesight, much as he knew that losing it was the only reason he was still around at all.)

Jon shut the door most of the way behind them, though it didn’t click all the way  shut.

“I just... learned something about you, Eli. I didn’t mean to, it just sort of... happens sometimes.”

Elias nodded numbly; he still didn’t have a clue what this was actually about, but Jon was clearly getting there soon enough.

“Something you did, specifically, except--I didn’t learn when exactly it happened, so I don’t know if it was actually you that did it, or...”

“Or Jonah Magnus in my body?”

“Quite.” Jon breathed in and out once, softly, before continuing. “If it was you, it- it’s really none of my business, I suppose-”

Elias considered making some remark about how from what he knew of Jon, something being none of his business wouldn’t necessarily stop him from investigating it just the same, but decided to stay silent and hear the rest of Jon’s statement out.

“But if it was Magnus, then I think you ought to know.”

“Right. Got it. So what is it you saw, then?” The way Jon had avoided mentioning the subject matter thus far led Elias to suspect that it was some kind of unsavory, but then, between Jonah Magnus doing all kinds of messed-up shit as him and Elias himself having done his fair share of poorly-thought-out things in his life, that didn’t really narrow things down.

“Well... let me start by saying it has to do with one Joshua Ritter. I don’t know if that name means anything to you-”

Elias could feel his face heat up, imagined that it was probably as bright of a red as Josh’s ginger hair, maybe even as dark as the freckles that were spread all across Josh’s face, across his arms, across every inch of his body, as Elias had learned first-hand when-

“Y-yes. I... I know that name. That was me.” Elias paused, considered further. “I mean, I assume it was me, depends what you saw I guess--but Josh didn’t care for the supernatural, I doubt Magnus would have any reason to, to do anything with him-”

“I saw the two of you... together.”

“You mean we were fucking?”

Jon made a weird choked noise at that, which Elias considered as a strange sort of personal success. Who’s the one feeling awkward about this conversation now, Jon?

“That’d be me, I imagine. Josh and I didn’t part on the best of terms, I doubt he’d have been interested in... doing that again.”

“I-I’m sorry, like I said, it’s none of my business really then-”

“I’m not gay, though. For what it’s worth.”

Jon had an awkward sort of cough that Elias half-suspected was feigned before saying, “Didn’t say you were.”

“I mean, I’ve had girlfriends before--Katie Sullivan in secondary, Annie White and Liz Culvert in uni, Sara Holmes after--I’m not gay.”

“First, that’s not actually proof you’re not gay, and second, there’s nothing wrong with it if you are. I mean, none of us are homophobic here--you know Georgie and Melanie are dating, right?”

“Yeah, and you and Martin probably go off and snog every chance you get, too, right?”

Jon made another one of those weird noises, having to take a few deep breaths before saying, “...guess I owe Martin a tenner now.”

“What, you made a bet about that? Seriously?”

“Martin bet me ten pounds that you’d figure out we were together without either of us having to tell you first.”

Elias snorted. “That was a sucker’s bet. I figured that out the night we met. You two aren’t as subtle as you seem to think you are.”

“Now you tell me...” Jon let out an exaggerated-sounding sigh. “You know you can be interested in guys without being gay specifically, right?”

“I mean, I guess I was a little bi-curious back then...”

“Never been a fan of that term, myself. Either you’re interested in a certain gender or you’re not. So if you had feelings for this Josh-”

He did. Oh, he did. He could still remember every word of the argument they’d had that’d ended in them breaking up, the way Josh had looked like he was halfway in between screaming and crying, slamming the door of Josh’s flat behind him and trying to pretend that his hands weren’t shaking, that he wasn’t on the verge of tears himself...

The ache of losing Josh had faded, as time went on, but Elias wasn’t sure it would ever fully go away.

“-and for those women as well, perhaps you’re simply bi, not ‘bi-curious’--or pan, for that matter-”

“Pan?”

“Pansexual. It means feeling sexual attraction towards someone regardless of their physical sex or gender identity.”

“Did you memorize that out of a dictionary, or did you just know the definition word for word when you needed it?” As Jon started to reply, Elias cut him off, saying, “It doesn’t really matter, I suppose, it’s just... it’s weird that both of those seem like real possibilities.”

“I feel like you’re trying to change the subject.”

“Look, it- it’s complicated, alright? I mean, my dad always claimed he’s fine with that stuff, but then he’d make a face and avoid it whenever it came up. I didn’t dare tell him about Josh--I don’t think he’d have, like, done anything, but... you never know, you know? Maybe I’m just not as brave as you and your- I don’t know what term you use for each other, boyfriend, partner, snog buddy-”

Elias was expecting Jon to make that awkward noise again, catch him off guard and have him stammer through a response.

Elias definitely wasn’t expecting Jon to reply gently but firmly, without even a hint of hesitation, with the single word “Husband.”

Elias’ mind reeled at the implications of that one simple word.

“Husband? Wait, you two got married--you can get married? Is that even legal?”

“It’s been legal since 2014, yes. Admittedly, our ceremony was a bit... unorthodox, given the circumstances, but it counts just the same in the eyes of the law.” Jon laughed a little before adding, “Things have changed since 1996, Eli, and not all for the worse, either.”

Elias sat there for a long moment, letting Jon’s words sink in. He thought maybe this group he’d found himself part of was just unusually understanding about... that sort of thing, but if same-sex marriage was legal, it couldn’t just be them, could it? He knew it was a different world out there than the one he was used to, but that... that was comforting, in a strange sort of way. Not that Elias saw himself rushing out into the dating scene any time soon, for a partner of any gender, but...

Elias shot Jon a weak smile as he said, “Good to know.”