[ God, Tim, please. Algric is ... well, nervous. He's got plenty of the Lonely's chill to protect him - even more knowing that they've left Jonah behind without telling him anything. (But it will be fine, right? Oh sure, Jonah will be mad, but after Tim and Algric retake the Institute, all will be forgiven. Or they'll die and forgiveness won't matter.)
He manages a nervous laugh, but that's about it. He has been here before, but only with Peter, and that with Leitner's Leitner in hand. ]
It is very James Bond, I'll give him that. Too bad he's such a twat.
I'll accept that only because that makes us James Bond.
[ His fingernails worry at an old spot on his forearm. They really were doing this... but then it would be done. It would be safe. Jonah would be safe. Jon would be safe. They could just guard all of this...
They just had to kill a man- a monster- to do it first. ] Lets see. Eyes, Lies and Videotapes? Yeah. That's a good name. I suppose you get to be the agent, what with knowing the way. That makes me the highly capable lead romance, clearly.
[ Tim's shoulders go up suddenly and then creep down at that touch. He gives Algric a bit of a weak smile and his hand rests over those cool, cool fingers for a moment. ]
[ Tim shoots up straight and steps in front of Algric, trying to see what the hell is making THAT noise in this the irregular twists and turns of these halls. ]
[ Oh. Oh god. Algric knows that voice. First from having met the man/avatar during the apocalypse, but also from his own nightmares. That burbly fleshy voice urging his bodybuilders further into the building, to catch the one who'd legged it ...
He makes a high-pitched noise of distress as he lets Tim step in front of him. He can't quite HIDE like this, but. ]
N-no, I - this is the only one I know of. There might not be another path.
[ In front of them, a shadow seems to detach from the wall. Sinew and gristle wrapped around each other in the vague shape of a man. He's bent double in the tunnel, with a hand as big as a dinner plate reaching out the wall to brace him as he goes. A few more shapes shift in the darkness: like Jared, but smaller. Waiting for his command. ]
"Isn't any." [ A meaty chuckle. ] "Door's right behind. I set up proper."
[ That's a lot of them. That's a whole lot of them. Oh hell, there's so much of the one big meat monster that makes up for all of the rest.
Nothing about him was okay. There seemed like there was too much of anything. Right past the Uncanny Valley and more into the Uncanny Continent. ]
You know, we don't have to do this. We could just pop by, do a little visit to the old psychopath. Kill him a little bit, and all meet up at the pub later for a nice drink and stories. You know?
[ He really wanted it to sound more brave than it did in his own ears but he's TRYING here. ]
[ The moment the fire touches, the moment he tastes it... he knows. He knows how much these people have worked and sacrificed for their happiness, as grotesque as it seems to him. How tragic it would be for it to waste away, imperfect, fragile and useless, right when they were so close to their elusive goal.
He wants it. He wants to do it so badly for its own, beautiful, fiery sake. Pour all of this low key terror he has of these halls into something, anything else. Spite was as good as anything else.
He takes a very slow, careful breath, eyes a smoldering red and skin just a little soft. ]
Lets try talking, eh? What about the snack in there. You take him entirely? We all walk out.
[ The body builder that jerked back from Tim starts to sizzle with the unmistakeable smell of cooking meat. Underneath, though, the result is not steak or even burnt flesh: it's wasting away to nothing, to uselessness, to the opposite of everything they wanted to be. They let out a guttural cry and stagger back a few paces.
(Next to Tim, Algric is borderline invisible, his mists already snaking around and searching for a path out. If he can teleport them, maybe--)
Jared rolls those two beady eyes towards his bodybuilder. Considers their pathetic flesh. Then turns back to Tim, rather more calculating now. ]
"'ardly nothing left of the flesh in there. Just a domesticated corpse."
[ Jared can likely feel it: the mitochondria rampantly multiplying, lysosomes ripping apart muscle tissues, adipose and cells, all of the careful anabolism shredded in the desolating chemical fires of catabolism...
It feels so sweet, so delicious. The utter despair boiling up from these creatures wells up in him (and is fed on in turn...)
In the mean time, Tim's jaw works as he... he considers that. He's pretty sure??? that's not what Jared means???? But from what he'd heard from Jonah and Algric, he actually can't be entirely sure there aren't domesticated corpses out there in someone's private hell...
Actually you know what? He doesn't want to know. ]
Oh come now, the illustrious Bone Turner can't do anything at all with that?
[ Domesticated corpses are 100% a thing that exists SOMEWHERE. Maybe Jared even has one stuffed away in his limbnasium.
The bodybuilder cries out as the collapse, the chemical fire burning through them like nothing else. They cry out to their friends, to Jared - both of which regard the weakening frame in front of them with something approaching scorn. And for Jared, well. A hint more respect for Tim here.
(There's motion from behind Algric. A hint of mist. He's moving, if you can keep Jared's attention.) ]
"I ain't one of yet high-an'-mighty types." [ Said slowly, carefully. ] "Tower's worth nothin' to me. An' Elias pays."
[ There's more of them, the fire whispers. There's more of them and they have such hope.
-- and he doesn't see Algric move so much as aware of that sapping cold shifting--
He takes a step towards Jared and the bodyguards, both hands out, that radius of terrible, lightless fire shifting around him. He's not... ... trying for them. But...
He draws up short. ]
It's nothing to you. You take the body, we take the tower. You get your pay. After all, does it matter who it's coming from?
[ The bodybuilders shy back, horrified by the fire burning up their companion. Jared...
Jared stays firm. A solid wall between Tim and Algric and the Panopticon. And his eyes are beady, roving the room for ... well. For Algric. he can't seem to find Algric just yet. ]
"Doesn't matter much. But you can't pay me what 'e is."
[ Tim stops at what he hopes is just outside of Jared's impressive reach. Even so, he has to crane his neck to look up the beast of man.
To anyone else, it would be hard to convince themselves Algric was even there. So unworthy of that second notice... But Jared...
Still, whatever Algric is going to try, Tim just has to keep the attention long enough. Good lord he does not and desperately does this to break into a fight.]
[ Jared sure has a lot of flesh, but he seems to be limited by it, at least. Physically, he has to get close to do his awful work. And he has to see things with his actual eyes.
(For the most part, anyway. Algric HAS been marked, after all ... Jared can smell something moving about.)
Jared grunts a bit at that. ]
"Archivist bones. And some Assistant ones t'match."
[ As it turns out ... Jared is much, much faster than he looks. A split second is all it takes to lunch forward, grabbing at Tim's arm. If Jared makes contact, Tim will find that his flesh is quick to burn in a different way: acid starting to digest the skin, tunneling down through old worm scars to get at those delicious, delicious bones underneath. ]
[ He's made a mistake. Oh god he has made a grave mistake.
It only took a second to throw Tim off balance, and the fact that evil eye'd bastard boss was paying this monster in theirs, in Jon's bodies? It's enough of a horrified pause to have those meaty, enormous hands engulf the entirity of his forearm.
It's not like Tim was ever a fighter to start with, but that insidious burn had whispered a terrible confidence.
He screams, pulling back as far as he can. (it crawls in squirming and itching invading and changing and it hurts like nothing he's ever felt and it is so good and terrible.
As the acid pours in, the skin emulsifies to a boiling, terrible wax. Even as the bone thins and shifts, the assistant Jared has burns him, from the inside out in return. ]
[ Jared can handle some burning. He’s made of much sterner stuff than his
bodybuilders after all. The very BEST bones, the finest cuts of meat. Jared
is not a snack, he is an entire god damn feast.
But that wax… ugh. Jared draws back with a truly disgusted noise. (He
continues to burn catabolically, but - perhaps to his regret later - he
ignores it for now. ]
“Now that’s not playin’ fair. I was promised good an’ toasty bones, not
this mess.”
[ He turns towards where the mist is gathering near the doorway. ]
Hot wax sizzles on his skin, dripping from where his fingers had sunk into the molten flesh. Let go, Tim falls to his knees, for a moment, falling to the blissful, terrifying red of pain-
And he hears that distorted, toothful voice garble out Jared's intent. Tim manages a gasp and focuses pushing as much of that devouring, desolating burn as far as he can in the mammoth of a man.
Well. It must be a scream, but the sound that echoes from all that meat is
not nearly high pitched enough to count as one. A howl, perhaps, that
chills to the bone. The heat consumes his arm in turn, sloughing off skin
and muscle and sinew. ]
“I worked - so hard on that—“
[ Jared turns on one of the other builders, tearing into them to build
himself up. The resulting fight is, um. Messy. To say the least.
But Algric is there next to Tim’s side again, plucking at him with
invisible fingers. He sees the horrifying remains of Tim’s arm - makes a
distressed noise - but there’s no time, no time at all. They’re already
hopelessly late. ]
Tim! Tim, come on, I’ve got a way through!
[ he all but drags Tim towards the doorway to rhe Panopticon proper. It’s
not… open as much as Algric has tunneled through it with the Lonely. Not
ideal, but the best they can do. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He manages a nervous laugh, but that's about it. He has been here before, but only with Peter, and that with Leitner's Leitner in hand. ]
It is very James Bond, I'll give him that. Too bad he's such a twat.
no subject
[ His fingernails worry at an old spot on his forearm. They really were doing this... but then it would be done. It would be safe. Jonah would be safe. Jon would be safe. They could just guard all of this...
They just had to kill a man- a monster- to do it first. ] Lets see. Eyes, Lies and Videotapes? Yeah. That's a good name. I suppose you get to be the agent, what with knowing the way. That makes me the highly capable lead romance, clearly.
no subject
Also, he manages a weak smile. ]
Pretty sure it makes you a Bond girl, actually.
no subject
Excuse you, I would be a fantastic Bond gent.
1/2
Can't argue with that. Bond gent it is--
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"Bond gent, izzit."
no subject
You know, that sounds amazingly ominous.
[ To Algric, ] Do you know another way there?
no subject
He makes a high-pitched noise of distress as he lets Tim step in front of him. He can't quite HIDE like this, but. ]
N-no, I - this is the only one I know of. There might not be another path.
[ In front of them, a shadow seems to detach from the wall. Sinew and gristle wrapped around each other in the vague shape of a man. He's bent double in the tunnel, with a hand as big as a dinner plate reaching out the wall to brace him as he goes. A few more shapes shift in the darkness: like Jared, but smaller. Waiting for his command. ]
"Isn't any." [ A meaty chuckle. ] "Door's right behind. I set up proper."
no subject
Nothing about him was okay. There seemed like there was too much of anything. Right past the Uncanny Valley and more into the Uncanny Continent. ]
You know, we don't have to do this. We could just pop by, do a little visit to the old psychopath. Kill him a little bit, and all meet up at the pub later for a nice drink and stories. You know?
[ He really wanted it to sound more brave than it did in his own ears but he's TRYING here. ]
no subject
[ This gurgling laugh is almost friendly? Awful, but. Jared doesn’t seem hateful, just. Purposeful. ]
“Wouldn’t that be lovely. Might do that after ‘m done with this job.”
[ The others advance but don’t quite draw close. They just… silently close off the exits, other than the way they came. ]
no subject
So, out of professional interest, what is this job exactly?
[ In the mean time, he inches back just a little, possibly uncomfortably warm to stand around. ]
no subject
"'e's too 'ot, boss. Somethin' cracklin' wot burned me."
[ Jared laughs a bit at that. ]
"Serves y'right. We're here to block th'way. Mebbe have a snack or two."
[ He eyes Tim (and Algric, who is radiating cold like a goddamn freezer right now.) ]
"Bit of hot sauce and an ice lolly, seems like."
no subject
He wants it. He wants to do it so badly for its own, beautiful, fiery sake. Pour all of this low key terror he has of these halls into something, anything else. Spite was as good as anything else.
He takes a very slow, careful breath, eyes a smoldering red and skin just a little soft. ]
Lets try talking, eh? What about the snack in there. You take him entirely? We all walk out.
no subject
(Next to Tim, Algric is borderline invisible, his mists already snaking around and searching for a path out. If he can teleport them, maybe--)
Jared rolls those two beady eyes towards his bodybuilder. Considers their pathetic flesh. Then turns back to Tim, rather more calculating now. ]
"'ardly nothing left of the flesh in there. Just a domesticated corpse."
[ Desiccated. ]
no subject
It feels so sweet, so delicious. The utter despair boiling up from these creatures wells up in him (and is fed on in turn...)
In the mean time, Tim's jaw works as he... he considers that. He's pretty sure??? that's not what Jared means???? But from what he'd heard from Jonah and Algric, he actually can't be entirely sure there aren't domesticated corpses out there in someone's private hell...
Actually you know what? He doesn't want to know. ]
Oh come now, the illustrious Bone Turner can't do anything at all with that?
no subject
The bodybuilder cries out as the collapse, the chemical fire burning through them like nothing else. They cry out to their friends, to Jared - both of which regard the weakening frame in front of them with something approaching scorn. And for Jared, well. A hint more respect for Tim here.
(There's motion from behind Algric. A hint of mist. He's moving, if you can keep Jared's attention.) ]
"I ain't one of yet high-an'-mighty types." [ Said slowly, carefully. ] "Tower's worth nothin' to me. An' Elias pays."
no subject
-- and he doesn't see Algric move so much as aware of that sapping cold shifting--
He takes a step towards Jared and the bodyguards, both hands out, that radius of terrible, lightless fire shifting around him. He's not... ... trying for them. But...
He draws up short. ]
It's nothing to you. You take the body, we take the tower. You get your pay. After all, does it matter who it's coming from?
no subject
Jared stays firm. A solid wall between Tim and Algric and the Panopticon. And his eyes are beady, roving the room for ... well. For Algric. he can't seem to find Algric just yet. ]
"Doesn't matter much. But you can't pay me what 'e is."
no subject
To anyone else, it would be hard to convince themselves Algric was even there. So unworthy of that second notice... But Jared...
Still, whatever Algric is going to try, Tim just has to keep the attention long enough. Good lord he does not and desperately does this to break into a fight.]
And that is?
no subject
(For the most part, anyway. Algric HAS been marked, after all ... Jared can smell something moving about.)
Jared grunts a bit at that. ]
"Archivist bones. And some Assistant ones t'match."
[ As it turns out ... Jared is much, much faster than he looks. A split second is all it takes to lunch forward, grabbing at Tim's arm. If Jared makes contact, Tim will find that his flesh is quick to burn in a different way: acid starting to digest the skin, tunneling down through old worm scars to get at those delicious, delicious bones underneath. ]
no subject
It only took a second to throw Tim off balance, and the fact that evil eye'd bastard boss was paying this monster in theirs, in Jon's bodies? It's enough of a horrified pause to have those meaty, enormous hands engulf the entirity of his forearm.
It's not like Tim was ever a fighter to start with, but that insidious burn had whispered a terrible confidence.
He screams, pulling back as far as he can. (it crawls in squirming and itching invading and changing and it hurts like nothing he's ever felt and it is so good and terrible.
As the acid pours in, the skin emulsifies to a boiling, terrible wax. Even as the bone thins and shifts, the assistant Jared has burns him, from the inside out in return. ]
no subject
[ Jared can handle some burning. He’s made of much sterner stuff than his bodybuilders after all. The very BEST bones, the finest cuts of meat. Jared is not a snack, he is an entire god damn feast.
But that wax… ugh. Jared draws back with a truly disgusted noise. (He continues to burn catabolically, but - perhaps to his regret later - he ignores it for now. ]
“Now that’s not playin’ fair. I was promised good an’ toasty bones, not this mess.”
[ He turns towards where the mist is gathering near the doorway. ]
“Where’s the ice one?”
no subject
And he hears that distorted, toothful voice garble out Jared's intent. Tim manages a gasp and focuses pushing as much of that devouring, desolating burn as far as he can in the mammoth of a man.
no subject
[ Jared -
Well. It must be a scream, but the sound that echoes from all that meat is not nearly high pitched enough to count as one. A howl, perhaps, that chills to the bone. The heat consumes his arm in turn, sloughing off skin and muscle and sinew. ]
“I worked - so hard on that—“
[ Jared turns on one of the other builders, tearing into them to build himself up. The resulting fight is, um. Messy. To say the least.
But Algric is there next to Tim’s side again, plucking at him with invisible fingers. He sees the horrifying remains of Tim’s arm - makes a distressed noise - but there’s no time, no time at all. They’re already hopelessly late. ]
Tim! Tim, come on, I’ve got a way through!
[ he all but drags Tim towards the doorway to rhe Panopticon proper. It’s not… open as much as Algric has tunneled through it with the Lonely. Not ideal, but the best they can do. ]