alwayskayaking | Duplicity Inbox

[And along with Vanessa, it's Tim that Jon reaches out to.]

I don't hate you.
You do know that, right?
At least you running your mouth didn't get me dragged into an alley and beaten.

[This was unexpected. For several minutes Jon is left on read as Tim tries to decide the best course of action.]

To be fair, you didn't know that would give people an excuse to wail on someone. Most 'flame wars' back home don't involve literal flames and beatings. And I get why you did it. You thought you were helping me. I don't have an excuse like that. I just ran my mouth. I know you might not want to, but let me know if anyone gives you any grief about it, alright?

You probably ate something that was laced with drugs.
It's part of why I tried not to eat or drink anything at the camp.

[Also, just... general paranoia.]

Mind, the dehydration and stint in the medical tent didn't really pan out like I'd hoped.
Curse this flesh prison and all that.

People give me grief about all sorts of things.
Let me know if you need money.
Sasha said you're being extorted.
Give a French aristocrat some leverage...

Maybe? I thought worse case the food would just make me horny and I had to eat.

[Jon won't see as it's by text message, but the cursing of the flesh prison makes Tim's smile.]

She wasn't suppose to tell you. Don't worry about the money, I got it covered. If I can't be someone you can trust I'm at least going to clean up my own mess. Just let me know if anyone brings it up so I know to go get my money back.

All right.

[...]

It's really not a sex thing.
It could be, I guess.
I just use it to relax.
Not having to think, make decisions.
It's nice.
I found some human catnip I bought to try with Gerry.
Very relaxing.

Except for the chewing.
I think my fingers are starting to get bloody.

[...]

Don't tell Martin.
They'll be healed by the time I get home.

[This... this is a lot more information then Tim would expect from Jon. Is this a test???? Is this some sort of test?]

Why are you chewing on your fingers?

It feels good?
The catnip made my teeth feel like they're buzzing.
And I'm hardly going to chew on one of my toys.
They're not made for that.

Jon, where are you? The archives?

[Immediately after he hits send Tim remembers that he no longer has a card to the archives. He can't reach Jon there to try and quietly help him if he is.] Maybe you should call Martin or Morrigan to help you. They make plastic chew toys. That would be safer than your fingers and they could bring you one.

I'm at the archives.
And I'm not a dog.
I don't need a chew toy.
I told you I'll heal.
It's fine.

Cats enjoy biting things too. Plus, there is probably a ball you could put the catnip into. A two for one. You get to smell the catnip and have something better to chew on than your fingers.

[Technically, he's not a cat, either. Jon considers typing that back to be a contrary brat. This conversation is going better than he might have expected, though.]

I'll look into something later, maybe.
You worry too much about things that don't matter.

[Says Jonathan Sims, well known for not worrying about things that don't matter. Ever.]

[Jon will get sent a link to a cat toy Tim thinks will be helpful.]

You shouldn't be hurting yourself. Even if you will heal from it and it's small. So to me and the people that care about you? It does matter.

[Ugh...]

If I put in an order for this, will you leave off it?

Or you can ask Martin or Morrigan to bring you one right now?

Martin doesn't even play with me like that.
Morrigan's my handler.

[The damage is already done and Tim knows about this. He might as well be informed if he's going to make suggestions.]

Great! So give Morrigan a ring and let him know. I'm sure they'd be happy to bring you your toy and then you guys could try it out together.

He's at work.

[It's evening and Catsanova's probably going to be hopping at this hour.]

I'm getting one of the pillows to bite, instead.
Happy?

It's better than your fingers.

[He thinks to leave it there. Before he has the chance to upset Jon while he's trying to relax and play kitty. Even if Jon said he didn't hate him, it didn't mean he wasn't still mad.]

I'm glad you can still enjoy yourself and find a way to relax.

[Jon grumbles to himself around the mouthful of pillow after reading that.]

I'm hardly going public with any of it.
But it's fine when there's privacy.

Do you think I should take a photo and send it to Morrigan?
That's something people do in relationships, isn't it?
You do that?

I do on the rare occasion, but after how many times our messages have wound up going to the wrong person? I'm not sure you'll want to do that unless it's one you're alright with possibly getting out.

Edited 2021-08-20 02:16 (UTC)

[That's a disappointingly relevant assessment.]

Oh.
No, I wouldn't want other people seeing.
I suppose I'll just take a nap.
It feels right having the Eye back.
Pinning me with its awful gaze.
It was all just... emptiness, nothing at camp.
God, it was terrifying.

[Tim isn't the person he should chat idly about this with, but here they are.]

[He's really not. Tim shifts uncomfortably in his office chair. Really wishing Sally was still around to fill the emptiness of the office as he reads Jon's message.]

You like that- [What did Martin call it?] -'lo-fi charm' aesthetic. Get a polaroid camera and give him those pictures later.

[Don't talk about the Eye. Just leave it. Just leave it alone. Things always go bad when you try to talk about the eye with--]

It wasn't all emptiness. Sasha was there, so was Martin and Morrigan. Surely they could have helped distract you a bit more if you would let them.

[The camera actually sounds like it would be an excellent gift idea for Martin. He could... scrapbook, if that's something he wants to do with that sort of thing? The thought is filed away for later.]

When I fell asleep.
They're not exactly inside my head.

No, but then you're asleep and unconscious. [He has no idea what he's talking about and he just doesn't understand.]

And in a void of nothing.
That's what scared me.
Imagine being trapped inside a dark room.
No sounds.
Not even your own breathing.
You can't tell time.
It's just an endless void, and you have no idea if it's ever going to end.

un: thearchivist; text

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