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[ It's not quite the right room, is it? They stumble in, Tim clutching his arm and staggering after Algric, the tiny jaunt through the Lonely only tempering that heat down to a bare warmth.

Elias remains exactly where he is, just as unaware of the ooze and enraptured with the very sight, the majesty of their god focusing its Eye upon them through this, his masterwork.

It's as if the other two aren't there. After all, they're merely assistants.

Tim lifts his head, following after Algric. ]

What the HELL?

[New voices. New words, new presences.

What little of Jonah's consciousness registers the newcomers, recognizes them and his fingers clutch to the arms of the chair, gripping knuckles white. He can't stop this. He never could.

Not even as that black pool begins to spread. Expand past what Jonah could have conceivably cried out. All it would take is a wrong step... Or for the room to disorient a bit, shifting just slightly. There's the faintest sound of a scream under their words, buried somewhere in a recording playing.

If anyone were to take the wrong step, they would find themselves falling. Deep into a dark abyss, stumbling down a dark hallway and the three or four steps up to an entry. A door, and a light on the other side.]

Edited 2021-07-08 15:58 (UTC)

[ Oh god, oh god —

It goes without saying that Algric takes a wrong step immediately. He’s so focused on Jonah that he surges forward and -

And down he goes into the horrible tarry mess. For an awful moment he thinks he’s going to drown in it? And then - and then -

A hallway. Doors. What the hell. ]

Jon? Jon, what—

[ He whirls, calling out the other possibility. ]

Tim? Are you there?

[ Yeah no, the two of them like that, the pouring horror down Jonah's face, the sheer oppressive air of burgeoning malice and gluttonous voyeurism, the rapture on Elias-

Tim is only a moment behind Algric in surging forward to do something- anything. kill the bastard like they'd come here to do - and finds himself in the dark.

By the length of the fall, there should have been no way their legs were intact, much less the stumble they had ended up into but- Right now, the cold of the Lonely is the most comforting thing Tim Stoker has ever felt, because it meant he WASN'T alone.

How's THAT for irony. ]

Here!

[ He steps closer into the cold fog and- ]

What was he doing here? We have to get back!

[ Algric reforms out of the chill and mist, clinging hard to Tim's - ah - well, his good arm, with a horrified look at the melted one. He isn't sure what to do? Will his cold help at all? It's not as though the Lonely really COUNTERACTS Desolation or something... ]

I - I don't know! He wasn't supposed to be there! Either of them!

[ And - and then - god, he has to say something. ]

What did Jared do to you?

Did he get that look when you told him? You know, the I Am Just Saying This So You'll Leave My Office Please Close the Door Tim look?

[ The fingers of Tim's good hand curls a little tighter on the.. the mess that Jared left. There's both a wince and a twitch, just a little, twitch of a smile. ]

I'm- I'm fine. First things first.

[The pitch black darkness seems to be closing in around them still. Swallowing the fog, vast and empty but small and enclosing all the same.

Still. The single lone door in front of them looms, its light on the other side bright and warm. Warmer the closer they get to it. But it waits patiently.]

[ Ha. Well. Maybe if Algric had actually told Jonah -

He sidesteps the question by surging forward, reaching for Tim's ... god. What even is that. Mess is a good word. ]

No. It's - it's awful, Tim. Let me at least try.

[ He places a frigid cold hand on Tim's forearm, trying to ... god. What can he even do? Perhaps he can blunt the heat, at least, and stop him from melting worse. That may be the only thing he can do.

And he wants to try it before they try ... well. The door. The door that seems to be the only way out of this place. He shivers a little in a way that has nothing to do with the fog rolling off him. ]

[ It's absolutely awful. This close, hands on it, there's bones missing there. Jared got at least some part of his meal anyway.

But Algric's touch is- It washes over him and stifles the seething fire a little, cools it to a normal warmth. (He feels a little... removed from that crackling voice in the back of his head, and all of the spiteful anger that comes with it.) ]

Oh...

[ Now there's the shudder he hadn't felt, pain that felt like PAIN causing him to hiss between his teeth. It... looks better, Less like it's going to ... drip. ]

Shit. I...

Okay... I think. That's a bit... a bit better. [ He's breathless, instead of that terrible acceptance, if not welcoming, of it. ]

[ Algric, meanwhile, sees the lack of bones, god, he HATED that segment of Harry Potter --

He just. Takes in a deep breath. Keeps the mist going until Tim feels as stable as he's going to get. ]

G-good. Good. God. I - I can't do anything more for you.

[ DEEP BREATH. ]

And I think that door is the only way out.

Right. Door now. Figure out what the fuck is going on - after whatever the door is.

[ Tim's good hand comes up and tugs Algric along with him urgently. ]

[Just inside the door is something likely more familiar to Tim than Algric: Research. Long tables in the center of the large room, flanked by rows and rows of impossibly tall shelves that snake and maze around the impossibly big room. Around the corners of the ceilings are the vestiges of mold and rot, and somewhere, distantly is the faint sound of squirming.

But the larger part of the room for use seems fine.

There are books out on the tables, notes, and the shelves are full of more books and files as well. Here and there are a couple of microphones, though they aren't connected to any recording device.

But no matter where they stand, there is an ever-present feeling of being watched. Odd, since none of the walls have any photos or paintings. No eyes to stare at them.]

[ Algric is tugged along, not that he needs much convincing. And through the door -

Uh. What? Algric looks around, bewildered, and disarmed by the familiar setting for a moment. He doesn’t hear the worms… yet.

(And where is that feeling coming from. He glares dimly at the wall.) ]

Where. Where are we.

[ Tim does. TIM REALLY HEARS THE WORMS. They weren't here. They SHOULDN'T have been here. ]

Some... sort of Spiral nightmare?

Otherwise... Research. This is Research. Before it got moved with the main break...

[ Tim immediately looks for where his desk would have been. ]

[Going too far from the main room leads to a dimmer, less colorful area. But Tim's desk is there cordoned off. Filled with all the various knickknacks and trinkets Tim would have accumulated over his entire time working at the Institute, not just the Research years. The candies Sasha kept in her desk, the spare parts of his model kits and the glue for them. Receipts from the pub with the outdoor band he went to each week with Jon. All the little things that made his time at the Institute not quite so nightmarish.

Martin, on the other hand, may hear the quiet patter of padded feet. And something hitting a wall, like it ran into it softly, controlled. Almost distinctive of an animal hunting and having found its prey.]

Oh. God, Research. No wonder I didn't recognise it.

[ He'd never worked here, after all. He lingers briefly by a name marked Tobias Fisher before ... what is that noise, anyway? Algric frowns, taking a step closer to those footpaw steps. ]

[ In the mean time, Tim keeps as far from the walls as he can. The cordoning is... well that's daunting. He reaches over to see if he can reach anything on it for a hint. The paper was interesting enough- the receipt it is. ]

[Tim may or may not recognize the date on it. The night they celebrated Jon's promotion. It's dangling there, just on the edge of the desk in view.

Martin, though... Well. He gets a full view of a mangy looking black cat, hunkered down against a rather nasty bit of wall and pawing at the little silver things. It outright hisses at one before tearing into it, but not daring to get its mouth close. Its ear perks and swivels at the sound of footsteps. Then slowly turns its head to look up at him, large bright green eyes staring back.]

[ That -

Oh god. Oh god it's those damn worms, what are they even doing here?? The cat is here too, and is adorable, just. ]

You - you really should get away from those. They're dangerous, all right?

[ He kneels next to the suspiciously Jonlike cat and offers a hand. ]

[The cat watches him, then tentatively takes one step forward... Then rubs its head against that hand and twines between Martin's ankles then moves past, going back to the main work area. Away from the worms and this infested wall. It jumps onto the table of open notes and books and sits there, head up and focused and watching intently. Its ears are still perked listening for the sounds of anything incoming, and where Tim's wandered to, but for the moment its eyes are focused on Martin.]

[ Oh, what a good cat. Algric leans down to pet him gently and follows him back. ]

Ah, I'm not sure you want to sit there. Probably Jon's notes?

[ He reaches down to pick up a stray one. ]

[ For an ... suspected Spiral Nightmare this is surprisingly mundane. He supposes that's how they get you... ]

Oh hey... does this mean he kept it? [ He muses, mostly to himself. But there is a deeply pleased note as he makes a quick grab for it, attempting not to knock over any of the barriers. ]

[A couple things happen at once. For Martin, the note itself seems to come alive, words becoming legible suddenly. Jon's voice loud, clear as day.

Why are you here?

The cat is watching Martin intently, then turns its head the other direction, to some noise of a lock opening on the other side of the room, far and away hidden in the bookshelves.

For Tim, the receipt comes away easily without knocking the barriers. But the text on it reads differently than he may expect.

2016 February xx

Tim: I mean, it is kind of a big deal.

Jon: No, I know. I just. There was you and Sasha, and then not, and - And now I'm about to be your boss in a couple of weeks...

Tim: Hey. Hey, I know. But we? Are good. We aren't going to change.

Jon: You sure about that?

Tim: Yeah. You're my friend, Jon. It helps I know a lot of your secrets. So, y'know, if you get too up your own arse-

Jon: Tim, you cannot tell anyone about that.

Tim: Don't worry, your rock career is safe with me.

The transcript goes on from the rest of the night, but it's there in Tim's hands. Secure and preserved.]

Edited (what if I had the right year) 2021-07-09 03:44 (UTC)

[ Algric yelps at the voice in his head, dropping the note. ]

Wh - what - Jon? Are you here?

Tim stares, running along the transcript of the night. It shouldn't even FIT on the receipt. Was there recorders? There's NO way he wrote it down that clearly and-

Algric's yelp draws Tim out of his absolutely creeped out revere. "Algric? Did you find him?"