littletonoidea | IC Inbox

[It only takes a minute, given how his room's on level one, so when he comes up he's just carrying on the conversation they started before.]

Look, I get it? I do appreciate that you used to be all rich and powerful, or whatever, you were like, BFFFFs forever with ol' Liz or something, probably. But I'm not gonna bow.

[ the nonsense makes sense, because of course it does, and Elias finds that he loathes it even more in person

he blows out a stream of smoke, wishing he some whiskey on him ]

The bow of the ship is the correct term for the pointy end, as you so creatively put it.

Ohhhhh.

[That sounds like a genuine noise of realisation.]

That's the fun part about working with spaceships instead of real boats, I guess. Nothing's pointy, 'cos if it is and it breaks something, you're as good as dead. Sometimes you're even actually dead!

[He's pulling out his own packet as he speaks with grim cheer.]

How nice.

[ if only, he thinks to himself ]

But let's not get sidetracked. You haven't been a warden all that long, have you?

Nope. Just two months of the daily grind. You'll be my lucky number two, so! Let's get that bread, huh?

Let's.

[ he could throw him overboard and no one would know. that's an option. ]

I've had wardens who wanted to check in daily, and others who were happy with the occasional catch-up. Do you have a preference?

[He could and Eiffel would barely fight him on it.]

I mean, sure, we could totally do daily sitreps, get the 4-11 on where you wanna be, how many people you're screwing over with your weird camera powers. Stuff like that!

[ can his polite smile get any more frozen in place ]

To bring you up to speed, there aren't any people I'm Watching, though there's one I wouldn't mind seeing in trouble.

[He puts his mostly-empty packet to his face, catching one of the cigarettes in his teeth and pocketing the box in the same motion so he can pull out a lighter, and talks with the stick in his mouth.]

You know, I'm pretty sure you're legally obligated to tell me if you're gonna ruin someone's day. We'll need to start writing up the insurance claims now, they don't exactly keep the paperwork for 'spooky bullshit' on hand at the DMV.

I wouldn't worry if I were you. After a few rounds of inmates murdering each other in retaliation and everything will calm down for a few months.

Yeah, I'm not exactly okay with everyone hopping on the train to Busan, for the record. Murder's so passay.

[He takes a long drag on his cigarette before he continues.]

But what was it you were saying before? You were gonna banish everyone to the Shadow Realm or something? Does that mean you're super pro-murder?

[ Elias barely keeps his eye from twitching. ]

Let's say that I'm against anyone murdering me.

I mean- [and he scoffs loudly.] Sure, no-one's watching Steve Orth and going 'I'll have what he's having'. But does that really answer my question?

The world from which I have come had, among it's other peculiarities, a series of beings which fed on fear which could manipulate and influence our world, but not actually enter it.

On realising that it would be possible for someone to someday bring them into our world, I decided to ensure it would be me who gave them the key, and thus ensure that I would not, in the nightmare world which ensued, be subject to the whims of anyone else.

[ he doesn't pause long enough to allow Eiffel to comment yet. ]

And the reference you're looking for, to describe this situation, is from Milton. "Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven."

[Good job cutting him off early, Elias, because Eiffel was absolutely about to open his mouth to speak.

The quote makes him actually pause, though, and take a moment to actually try and think about what Elias is saying.

It's all a bit... much. More believable than it would have been this time last year when he was pre-hearing his own voice come from a radio because ALIENS and pre-space jail prison ship redux, but there's something that sticks out there.]

That... dooooeeesn't really sound like you're doing much reigning there, Eli. Kinda sounds more like Norman the doorman.

[ if death were permanent here, Elias would just step forward, press his new warden against the railing and throw him over the side. envisions it while he pauses, his eyes so hard and smile so brittle now that even eiffel can probably tell that the comment has hit a very sore spot ]

No. Here I am. Changing my ways. Turning over a new leaf.

[Eiffel is in fact pretty good at knowing when he'd toeing a line. He just chooses to ignore the warning signs.]

Okay, but what I'm hearing is, on last week's episode of The Bouch-elor, you gave Chuck [why does the Eye insist that name in fact means Cthulhu] a smooch behind the bleachers, but you didn't get the rose. [There's a moment's pause as he takes another drag.] And then you got merked.

I don't believe I said anything about how I came to be here. But I can share the details, if you like. In the interest of full disclosure.

I, uhh--

[Is this a bad idea? Almost definitely. This is giving Elias permission and that means something bad is probably going to happen isn't it.]

Y...eeeees? Um- okay, sure. Hit me?

[ elias reaches forward, extending his hand like he really will give that shove and send this idiot over the side

but there's no physical force behind it. he just reaches into Eiffel's mind and implants a memory. it's not simply a knowledge of events. he wants eiffel to feel all there is of being stabbed to death. the pain of it. the agony. the--

"It's over," says the Archive, a man quite similar to the Jonathan Sims on the barge.

"Yes, I suppose it must be," he responds.

-- a fraction of a second is enough for elias to realise he's given eiffel more of the memory than he wanted. but it's already playing out, and eiffel won't know what elias was thinking, he'll only feel the physical sensations of it all, like --

the quiet emptiness in the back of his mind where Knowledge has flowed though for months. the faint wrong echoes of a world where phyics and sound exist only in senice of fear. the sudden lance of pain and heat as the knife disregards his skin.

his own voice. quieter than the rush of blood in his ears but unmistakably his. unmistakably afraid

-- the effort of sharing the memory drains elias. his cigarette drops from lax fingers, his hands grab uselessly at the railing before he slumps to his knees, spots swimming before his eyes ]

[Eiffel doesn't know what he was expecting when he said yes, but the reach makes him take half a step back automatically--

And then - he's not. He's- someone else, picking himself up from the floor to face- Jon, the Archivist, his Archivist, beating the shit out of him.

P-Please John... He coughs, rough and wet. I don’t want to die.

Neither did they.

The sense of the knife slipping between his ribs is icy cold, vicious, and the sharp heat of blood and sudden loss of pressure makes him cough, ragged and wet and fear wells hard and fast as the impossible world fades away...

...and when the memory lets him go Eiffel is still coughing, doubled over on his hands and knees, heaving and wretching with one hand white-knuckled gripping at his chest where the knife went in, where the Decima ravaged and suffocated him, but the only thing spilling from his mouth is saliva, and his shaking hands go to his throat as his breathing finally begins to-- not even out, but it turns slowly into deeper, wheezing breaths, as that memory of fear and dying crystallises into his own mortal terror.]

Wh-what-- [Speaking still hurts, ribs still twinging with the phantom stab and the real coughing fit.] What- th-the fuck?!

[ elias wouldn't say he was one for lying to himself -- but he hasn't spent all that much time dwelling on his final moments. he's pieced together enough to know that Martin wasn't there and Jon hasn't experienced it.

So why think about the worst moment of his life? why relive hearing that fear in his voice? the way he had begged? how he had utterly failed to predict what the Archivist would do, or how the state of affairs was unsustainable, or even his own fear at --

his failure mocks him, as all his failures on the barge mock him. flawed. unacceptable. worth nothing but scorn and contempt

which this idiot was now aware of.

he tries to stand, ends up resting all his weight on the railing ]

I think-- I believe -- that's. enough for one day.

Edited 2022-04-17 15:40 (UTC)

[Eiffel's in no position to try and stop him. Still desperately trying to smooth out his breathing, with the panic only making his throat tighter again and nearly forcing fresh coughs out, asthmatic gasps off the tail end of a smoker's coughing fit and a sore throat as well.

When words do manage to make it between the pain and the breathlessness, they're monosyllabic at best, and the fear is still clear in his tremulous words.]

Sure. Y-yeah. Let's... t'morr'w. Okay. Hoooookay. [He takes a long breath and a disgustingly wet sniff.] Try... t'take. Iteezy. Okay...?

Of course, warden.

[ it takes longer than he wants, which is to say it takes more time than immediately before Elias feels stable enough on his feet to let go of the railing.

his voice sounds shaky in his own ears. he needs to leave ]

I'll-- see you then.

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