[ It feels inevitable to cast his mind back to the moment before his end, high above a ruined world in the place where all suffering and fear were not only visible but condensed into a single point-- a single mind. How broken had the Archivist been there? How deep had his despair spiralled to lead him to the decision he had made? To bring him to the point of accepting that he would live out his existence alone with the Fears in a dead world that he had killed?
He wonders idly if Jon would be quite so willing to share this present moment with him if he had lived through that one. It's unlikely. So he files the thought away, to think on and to ponder how he can use it. For now-- he can indulge the Archivist. He wants to feel less alone? Elias can be seen to empathise with that.
Elias holds his Archivist's gaze for a moment, then turns his head. When he speaks, it's quiet and thoughtful. ]
I still remember the moment that I realised the vast gulf that existed between myself and the others Smirke had gathered.
Oh, we knew a great many things about the Powers; Smirke better than any of us had a talent for parsing out their idiosyncrasies. But one night as I looked around our circle, cigar smoke heavy in the air, letters from contacts around the continent spread about us, eagerly discussion these stories of encounters with the unnatural and the seemingly occult, all of us with our own theories of where these creatures might have come from and what, exactly, it was they wanted from us.... I saw that to them it was simply a puzzle to be solved. A serious puzzle, one impressed on us with a serious and deadly importance-- but at it's core a puzzle. A curiosity. A quirk that our world should have these entities to contend against.
And I knew in that second, right to the core of my being, that they would all succumb to the powers in one way or another. Because they were unwilling or unable to See what I-- what we-- can.
[ It would be too much to seem regretful. Even if Elias can imagine the regret he might feel. Even if he did once feel it. But he lets a sigh escape him, bringing the cigarette to his lips. ]
[ If it were any other place, any other time, he'd say something angry or frustrated or scoff. Instead, he glances over towards Elias, almost companionable, before pausing and drawing on his cigarette. He blows it out again to speak. ]
Was that before or after you knew you'd... you'd succumbed in your own way?
[ There is more he could say on the matter, but he'll refrain. He doesn't often think of how things had been, right at the beginning. If he's going to use it to draw Jon closer, he needs to be sure he does it well. ]
Now. I believe you were going to tell me how Gertrude reacted to learning that, despite her best efforts, we did realise the Watcher's Crown after all.
[ He makes a mildly disgusted noise at the reminder of the ritual's name. And for good reason. Really, Elias? What a name. ]
As if I hadn't just given you a full meal.
[ But the grousing is more bark than bite. He just sighs a little.]
I'm not sure it was properly real for her. She wasn't pleased, obviously, but... I was here and I was working to correct it. That... seemed to be her main focus.
Needed? No. But it was inevitable, once Gertrude died.
[ You couldn't have stopped him.
It's deliberate, this pushing to see how he reacts. This isn't the Archivist who'd climbed the Panopticon to kill him, but neither does Elias know who he is after all these months. ]
And you chose to leave me at the Institute. To take Martin and run in the hopes that somehow the consequences of who I was wouldn't ever reach you.
[ His voice is still calm, flat, collected. Not a threat at all. Just. Pushing.]
Why haven't you blinded me, Archivist? Oh, I know there's every chance that my time here will redeem me, bring me back to the human-adjacent fold. But until that point, I am very much a threat to everyone on this ship. I really don't know how long Tim will hold out, to be honest. I haven't even brought up Sasha to him, yet. I expect that will be a very sensitive matter.
[ Jon doesn't speak for a moment. He smokes and he stares out into the stars and he breathes in the strange air on this strange ship and he listens to Elias Bouchard practically demand to be blinded. ]
Because [ he says with a breath out ] whatever I do to you is just a reason for you to do something else, use some other scheme, cause some other trouble. It's an excuse for you to be cruel, and petty, and small. To make this place, and your time here, about me or Tim or Martin or- or even Sasha.
[ He shakes his head and looks directly at Elias. ]
You're here to learn. You're here... to get better. And if I am to do my job here, I have to believe that's possible. Because I'm sure there are people from all the other worlds that all the other inmates are from who would feel exactly how I do about people I call friends. People I choose to care about and want to see alive again. People I am actively working to bring back to life.
[ A single jump of his shoulders, like a laugh. ]
I'll warn people. Of course I'm going to warn people. So they aren't blind.
[ Elias takes a final drag on his cigarette, the embers burning down to the filter, and walks over to the railing to flick it over the side. ]
Perhaps.
[ Oh, how he wants to get the final word in. It's a craving, to say more than he has already and reveal his own secrets to be Seen. Properly Seen. But he tightens his jaw. ]
This has been a pleasure, Archivist.
[ And unless Jon has something very enticing to say, he'll head back to his cabin. ]
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no subject
He wonders idly if Jon would be quite so willing to share this present moment with him if he had lived through that one. It's unlikely. So he files the thought away, to think on and to ponder how he can use it. For now-- he can indulge the Archivist. He wants to feel less alone? Elias can be seen to empathise with that.
Elias holds his Archivist's gaze for a moment, then turns his head. When he speaks, it's quiet and thoughtful. ]
I still remember the moment that I realised the vast gulf that existed between myself and the others Smirke had gathered.
Oh, we knew a great many things about the Powers; Smirke better than any of us had a talent for parsing out their idiosyncrasies. But one night as I looked around our circle, cigar smoke heavy in the air, letters from contacts around the continent spread about us, eagerly discussion these stories of encounters with the unnatural and the seemingly occult, all of us with our own theories of where these creatures might have come from and what, exactly, it was they wanted from us.... I saw that to them it was simply a puzzle to be solved. A serious puzzle, one impressed on us with a serious and deadly importance-- but at it's core a puzzle. A curiosity. A quirk that our world should have these entities to contend against.
And I knew in that second, right to the core of my being, that they would all succumb to the powers in one way or another. Because they were unwilling or unable to See what I-- what we-- can.
[ It would be too much to seem regretful. Even if Elias can imagine the regret he might feel. Even if he did once feel it. But he lets a sigh escape him, bringing the cigarette to his lips. ]
no subject
Was that before or after you knew you'd... you'd succumbed in your own way?
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[ There is more he could say on the matter, but he'll refrain. He doesn't often think of how things had been, right at the beginning. If he's going to use it to draw Jon closer, he needs to be sure he does it well. ]
Now. I believe you were going to tell me how Gertrude reacted to learning that, despite her best efforts, we did realise the Watcher's Crown after all.
no subject
As if I hadn't just given you a full meal.
[ But the grousing is more bark than bite. He just sighs a little.]
I'm not sure it was properly real for her. She wasn't pleased, obviously, but... I was here and I was working to correct it. That... seemed to be her main focus.
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[ Now he does sound properly nostalgic. ]
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I can appreciate it. I can certainly appreciate it.
[ A stream of smoke. ]
I wonder about what it cost her.
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[ He might not. Jon has always resisted that. ]
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We both gave up our humanity. I just did it literally.
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I'm sorry, am I supposed to buy that you think I'm a 'good' person? Or even a person?
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I think that, even now, you're still not able to see matters clearly enough to do what needs to be done.
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I think you're the last person to speak on 'what needs to be done'. Nothing you did... needed to be done.
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[ You couldn't have stopped him.
It's deliberate, this pushing to see how he reacts. This isn't the Archivist who'd climbed the Panopticon to kill him, but neither does Elias know who he is after all these months. ]
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No, it wasn't. You chose to do it. You chose, once you knew the answer, to pursue it. To execute the plan, to make it a reality.
Nothing was inevitable.
We both know that.
no subject
[ His voice is still calm, flat, collected. Not a threat at all. Just. Pushing.]
Why haven't you blinded me, Archivist? Oh, I know there's every chance that my time here will redeem me, bring me back to the human-adjacent fold. But until that point, I am very much a threat to everyone on this ship. I really don't know how long Tim will hold out, to be honest. I haven't even brought up Sasha to him, yet. I expect that will be a very sensitive matter.
no subject
Because [ he says with a breath out ] whatever I do to you is just a reason for you to do something else, use some other scheme, cause some other trouble. It's an excuse for you to be cruel, and petty, and small. To make this place, and your time here, about me or Tim or Martin or- or even Sasha.
[ He shakes his head and looks directly at Elias. ]
You're here to learn. You're here... to get better. And if I am to do my job here, I have to believe that's possible. Because I'm sure there are people from all the other worlds that all the other inmates are from who would feel exactly how I do about people I call friends. People I choose to care about and want to see alive again. People I am actively working to bring back to life.
[ A single jump of his shoulders, like a laugh. ]
I'll warn people. Of course I'm going to warn people. So they aren't blind.
But that is all.
no subject
But he feels sure he can use that. ]
Well. I suppose we'll have to wait and see if your gamble pays off.
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I know you're using, and intend to use, everything that's been said, been done, tonight. I know that.
I knew that when I contacted you.
But I'd like to- I'd like to introduce a new thought.
Perhaps... perhaps you could use someone who understands, at least, somewhat, as a resource not to be shitty...
But to help you try and reconnect with the part of you, the you... that could graduate.
no subject
Perhaps.
[ Oh, how he wants to get the final word in. It's a craving, to say more than he has already and reveal his own secrets to be Seen. Properly Seen. But he tightens his jaw. ]
This has been a pleasure, Archivist.
[ And unless Jon has something very enticing to say, he'll head back to his cabin. ]
no subject
Good night, Jonah.