kayakking | (no subject)

[ Good to know the cat agrees with him. Algric blinks, low key fascinated by watching Joncat bounce from page to page.

And then - a jolt at the woman’s voice, a look back at Tim. ]

Oh, that’s - Jude Perry, right? Desolation avatar.

[ It is remarkably cute. It's just, the voice, the WHO AND WHAT IT IS that comes out of the page. ]

To- to mold. You are saying just, what? Pinch it back into shape?

[That cat hears Tim, then looks down at the page like it's reading, then presses its paw down again. Still Jude's voice:]

She stood up, pressed her fingers to her face and calmly squeezed it back into shape.

[Once that line finishes, the cat comes to the edge of the table, leaning to sniff at Tim's bad arm, quite a bit of worry there.]

I - um - I think that's. What he's suggesting, yes.

[ Algric also hovers a bit closer. ]

I could try too? Cold - cold fingers. And all.

[ There was something in accepting that this was what happened to his arm, that there was an option like that and that he could do it. His brain hung up somewhere between the first two, and no where near the a Cat Jon is helping Algric try out remodelling. ]

I.. Actually- actually yeah. Go ahead and do it before I start actually processing any of this.

[The cat, for his part, watches them make that decision together. Nods. Then steps back to start arranging some papers. Go about your business, sirs. He's got to set up his soundboard and get the right combination to get across what he wants to say.]

R-right. Right. Okay. Just - just please forgive me if I ecce mono this.

[ With the cat ... uh, preparing his speech, apparently, Martin carefully reaches down to Tim's hand. And starts to. Reshape it? God this is literally the worst. Every time he remembers this is Tim's flesh, attached to the rest of his body, he wants to throw up.

But it's not so hard making the basic shape of a hand, at least. and the cold does help. ]

Edited 2021-07-09 22:39 (UTC)

[ Worse is when it twitches or moves, especially as TIM starts associating them as fingers again too. He's... more than a little green himself, and covers his face with his other hand. ]

Just... ow... just do the best you can.

[ Algric makes a dimly distressed noise? Those twitches don't make HIM happy either, even if it does mean he's doing a good job. He swallows thickly and just. Keeps going. Gently. Carefully.

Eventually, he moves his hands back. The result is ... fine, probably? Not perfect, and with some definite divots from where he'd pressed too hard, but ... handlike. ]

I - I think that's the best I can do.

[ Tim lets out the breath he was holding. Then forces out the rest of that breath slowly.

He takes his other hand off from over his eyes and - well it's not terrible. He flexes it and- oh. It is still a bit like rippling wax. He puts it in his pocket. ]

Back up to two hands and new nightmares.

[ Another careful breath. ] Thanks... both of you.

[The cat was... well. It wasn't interested in seeing that display. It was focused. But now that they're finished, it sits primly on the table, tail swishing and waiting patiently.

Once it's clear Algric and Tim are done, it takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Then starts pressing paws to each page, some for only a second for a single word, some for longer.]

So I suppose I just… I just wait for now. I don’t think it’s going to just give up, and I can’t risk attracting its attention.

But-

I need help. I need allies.

But-

-if you want me to trust you, then I’m sorry, but I need evidence.

[Martin's voice.] We can't just leave him.

[Tim's voice.] Yeah, we can.

[When he finishes, the cat sits at the end of the line of papers, watching them. Waiting for their answer.]

Edited 2021-07-10 00:20 (UTC)

Of - of course. Glad I could do something.

[ He shifts back, then, as the voices start up again, and ...

And. What does that mean, exactly? His forehead creases with worry. And --

Wait. Shit. That last part makes his blood run cold for a moment. He had, after all, left Jonah behind. He ducks his head, hoping the guilt doesn't show on his face. It will be fine, it'll be quick, as soon as they get Jonah out... ]

Of course we'll help, Jon. I - I don't know how? But - maybe if we can reach a you that isn't a cat, we can help you wake up from this.

[ Tim, fortunately, misses that flash of guilt in the confusion and downright offense at what he hears... and what it implies. ]

Hold on. I never said that.

[He searches for another page, touching at it gently. Tim's voice:] Should I make a PowerPoint?

[Lets it go. Reads a little further, then touches it again, Jon's voice.] I do... Hope things here can turn out differently.

[Tim's voice:] I mean. They already have.

[He touches down on a previous page, Tim's voice again.]

Look, let's keep going.

[With that, the cat jumps down from the table. But instead of darting off ahead, he takes a few slow steps, then turns to see if they'll follow.]

[ Sigh. Algric nudges Tim's shoulder gently. Apologetically. ]

You never did. But future you will. Did. Either.

[ He definitely moves to follow. ]

[ Were we just sassed by a cat in Executive Wonderland using his own voice?

But that little snippet of conversation sets Tim to a more quiet, thoughtful look. And he trails after Algric... doing a last look back at the sound of the worms just to be sure...]

[Once he's sure they're following, the cat leads them carefully through the maze of bookshelves. A lot of weird turns that really should not make sense given how the room was laid out when they came in.

But they do come to another door, the one that unlocked earlier. "Archives". Thankfully the worms haven't come near this part of the room. There's a bit of warmth coming from the space under the door, but the cat looks up to them expectantly.

He doesn't have thumbs, okay.

If they do open the door for him, well...

The other side is definitely Archives. If it had been taken and draped in large, colorful swaths of fabric, reds and yellows and oranges, accents of blues to offset the mannequins and wax figures starting to melt in the hot spots of fire flicking at the edges. It gives the room a bit of a swirling, oil painting feeling of implied motion. The speakers in the ceiling alternate playing tinny carnival and calliope music, and bits of scripted audio.

All in Tim's voice.

"You still don't believe us, do you."

"Oh, sorry didn’t mean to disturb you while you were being suspicious."

"Just stop talking, I’m sick of this, I’m sick of you."

It alternates depending on the speaker they walk past. The flames are ever just at the edges, not really in the main walking area. There's debris all over, making the traverse across the room a bit of a walking hazard. There are recorders here and there, and remote detonators laying around. The cat is slowly picking its way through it all, being careful where to step and hopefully showing them the safe passage across.]

[ Algric will definitely open the door, leading to ...

Oh. Oh god. He pauses here, a hand going to his mouth as he stares at all the flames and colours and - this is the Unkowing, isn't it He's never seen it himself, but it seems obvious enough, doesn't it? ]

Is this what it was like when you stopped it this time?

[ He does, indeed, follow the cat's footsteps, trying to be mindful of the safe path. ]

Yeah. Yeah, close to it.

[ Tim's voice is hoarse from emotions and the smoke quickly settling in there. He knows that music, how it pulls words from the mind and muddles concepts between each other. Somehow, the fire is much, much more comforting.

His eyes are wide, breathing a bit too ragged, and his steps are not nearly as neatly careful. ]

After, anyway.

[The cat never goes too far ahead of them, wary of getting out of their sight. Though occasionally, he does squirm under a piece of furniture or ceiling that fell over to the floor.

It isn't the winding maze of corridor like the Research room, but it's just as hazardous and slow going to wade through. He stops, looking a couple different directions to check for something. One of the mannequin arms leans over in the heat and the support burning out from underneath it. But its fingers reach, grasping for Tim's shoulder. Like finding like, avoiding the cold ice of the Lonely man.]

After. Right. Not - much better, really.

[ He hates this quite a lot in fact. Warily, he picks his way through the wreckage, having to leverage himself against the bits of wreckage. It’s too hot in here for his mists to work properly; they just kind of evaporate as soon as they escape him.

He turns back and — ]

Tim! Look out!

[ He hadn't even really registered the dripping hand of the mannequin, after all, like calls to like. He whirls and, he feels the heat of the fire around, the narrow path of safety- and swats the hand aside to escape closer to Algric. ]

[The cat hears the commotion and looks back, hissing loudly once he sees what's happening. He joins in the (admittedly rather useless) swatting of the mannequin arm further away from Tim. His back paw kicks a bit of plastic in the path, some little trinket of a simple robot toy from some grab bag secret santa years back.

Once the clear and present danger is gone, he moves to sniff up at both Algric and Tim's legs, wanting to make sure they're all right.]

[ God he hates this already. He really does. Algric puts himself between the mannequin and Tim/Joncat, making sure it stays back.

Only once it seems … not … likely to attack immediately does he stoop down and retrieve the funny little plastic toy. ]

I - I really don’t think we should stay in here long.

I'm entirely down for this plan of action.

[ He hadn't really even thought about it, as Algric steps between them, the cold a strange sort of barrier in this place that is somehow home and everything wrong with the world and some unworld living under the paint. He crouches down as the cat sniffs him, his good fingers reaching to scratch at the Joncat's ruff. ]

Can we do fast out of here?