jmart corruption au

[eyediot]

Corruption JMart au for Rho

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[eyediot]

[When he feels the grip on his shoulder, he lets his vision go with a gasp. He's powerful, but still getting used to doing this in other domains so vehemently opposite his own. It hurts. The hand on his shoulder is like an icy vice.]

You- [ No... It can't be. His voice sounds very small when he finally finds it again.] Martin?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ It sure is. Ice sinks into his shoulder at even that slight touch, creeping up his neck. Not pleasant in the slightest.

But the voice behind him strengthens, almost seeming to laugh with relief. ]

Martin. [ Or is it a sob? ] Martin.

[eyediot]

[Jon moves instantly, reaching his scarred hand to Martin's arm? Elbow? The appendage gripping at him, leaning in a bit more earnestly.]

I see you. I'm here, Martin.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ As long as Jon doesn't look, he can grasp the figure's arm well enough. He's miserably cold and heavy, though. ]

I'm here.

[ A faint, frigid kiss is pressed to Jon's hair. ]

I'm Martin.

[eyediot]

[How long has it been since he's had tears in his eyes?

He'd thought Martin lost. Gone forever in the void Peter had made and swept him away to. He had searched for months in that forsaken place, drifted himself before finding himself again. He'd given up.

He shouldn't have. Jon's eyes are wide hearing that. If this is real...]

Are you real? Is that really you?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Cold fingers find his face, touching delicately along his cheekbones. It's still miserably cold, but that weight and solidity is growing by the second. ]

Real. Really real.

[ A pause; he's hesitating, struggling to form words on his own. He feels just barely solid enough to manage a sentence. ]

In - pieces.

[eyediot]

[He keeps watching that, feeling it. Tries not to freeze himself when he feels those ghostly fingertips brush against the green scars but Martin couldn't know, he had no way of knowing.]

Then. I'll help you put the pieces together. I'm here.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Sorry, Jon. He can't help it at all. Not in this state.

For a moment, there's only the sound of soft, ragged breathing. ]

I'm - one. Piece. Not ... together.

[eyediot]

Not together.

In the other rooms then? Should I see them? Or focus here?

[He picked up what Martin was doing at least. Giving him more words to use should help communications.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Martin nods at that, indeed quite relieved that Jon's giving him the right words here. His voice becomes firmer when he doesn't have to create them himself. ]

Other rooms. Focus - them.

[ As delighted as this fragment is to have Jon, the work is not done yet. ]

[eyediot]

[He nods, closing his eyes. Leave this one here and go see he others then. Of course.]

All right. I'll go get them. We'll get you back together, Martin.

[curriculum_fictae]

Martin...

[ Another faint kiss is pressed to Jon's head, alongside the faint sensation of ice landing in his hair. ]

Martin is ... there. In the centre.

[eyediot]

In the centre...

Is there a route I should take? A specific way to go? I'll find you as long as I can find the way.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ A ghostly hand reaches past Jon's head, pointing straight ahead at the door labeled Head Archivist. ]

Take a specific route.

[eyediot]

[His eyes follow that line. Once he sees the path, he sighs a bit.]

Of course.

Martin- I'll fix this. I promise. I'll take you with me this time.

[curriculum_fictae]

Home...

[ He sounds a bit wistful at that. What a lovely thought. He doubts it will actually happen, though. ]

[eyediot]

[Home is... a bit out of anyone's reach at this point. But jon only nods and starts making his way to the door marked for his title.

It's a herculean effort to turn the knob and open it.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ The presence behind him fades, but there is a sense of rightness behind Jon. Everything in its place here, whatever that means.

Despite the name on the door, it leads into the Archive panic room, where a cot has been laid out. A blanket covers a person-sized lump there; it's frozen solid to both the cot and the shape underneath it. ]

[eyediot]

Oh.

[Well. That isn't great either. The cold is seeping into his bones again as he steps further in to approach the cot.]

I guess you probably can't hear me. But I'm here, and I'm- going to start trying to lift the blanket. [Nevermind his own fingertips are cold as he tries to grip the frozen fabric and tug.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Sorry Jon. Everything in here is miserably frigid.

As he lifts the blanket, he'll see that the outline underneath is familiar, but ... it's filled with frigid static. Only a small fragment of his body seems a bit more solid: the hand that fumbles for Jon's. ]

Who --

[eyediot]

[Jon almost instinctively jerks his hand away from the grab-

Then he remembers where he is. Who he's trying to save and lets the hand take his.]

It's the Archivist. I'm here, Martin.

[curriculum_fictae]

Martin...

[ He says the name distantly, like it means nothing to him. Who is Martin? Clearly not him.

But his hand clings to Jon's. ]

Archivist. I - remember an archivist.

[eyediot]

[Jon nods, letting him grip.]

That's right. That's me. You're Martin.

[Not 'were'. He still is, if Jon has anything to do with it.]

I found you.

[curriculum_fictae]

You found me. "Martin."

[ He sounds quite skeptical of all of that. ]

I don't know who that is.

[eyediot]

Hm. A part of you, anyhow.

[No, of course it couldn't be this easy. Jon keeps watching him for now, trying to see through the frost and ice.]

You are my assistant. And my friend. And someone very dear to me.