TMA!Jacobi and Jon

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Are you sure this is the place?" he asks the driver, who was already speeding off, leaving Jacobi in front of the old building.

"Thanks for your help!" he calls out with false cheer, rolling his eyes before trudging his way up to what he had been told was the Magnus Institute. He doesn't even flinch at the screech of tires that comes from blocks behind him. He doesn't have to see the car erupt into flames as a very confused driver crawls out and phones for help. That's chaos for someone else.

Instead, he takes the steps up, backpack on his shoulder. He had flown all the way out here, so it's not as if he's going to be missing any leads. Besides. He has an appointment.

The closer to the door he gets, the more uncomfortable he feels about this. It's like a whisper of wind against his skin, a suggestion of something dangerous, but Jacobi's never let something like that bother him. He walks through, hands in his pockets.

Comments

[epistemological]

Jon isn't very good about keeping up with the news. Most of the day is spent in the Archives, sorting through to try and gain understanding, with the occasional... field trip. Such as today, which is why Jacobi will waltz in to find that Jon is not there at the entrance. At least not for another minute or so before he slips in right after Jacobi, the scent of smoke doing nothing to hide that he both looks exponentially better in health and feels a great deal more... 'spooky'.

"Ah. You're back."

[mrballisticsdummy]

For the first thirty seconds, he waits. Then he wanders, thinking maybe being nosy will summon him.

That does seem to work, at least to hos perception, and he whirls around with a roll of his eyes, unconsciously shuddering at his presence. But -

"Hm. You smell good," he comments. "Where have you been?"

As if they're old friends.

[epistemological]

"Out," he says quietly as he locks the door behind him, making his way over to Daniel and he doesn't seem to be ignoring that familiarity. If anything, he seems as if he's happy for it.

"Getting a bite for myself. What about you?"

[mrballisticsdummy]

"I had a great night, thank you for asking."

He follows along beside him. "Didja see it?" he asks, sidling up to him, clearly also in a much better mood than before.

[epistemological]

He looks at Daniel and he knows he shouldn't, but he can't help it, not buzzing like he is.

"No. Tell me about it."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"So the company that I worked for? The ones who shot me into space and killed my friends? They have a lab here. I don't know much except that they aren't doing what they're telling people they're doing. You know, like most evil corporations. So I snuck into their secret basment and blew the whole thing up!"

And he adds, because he can guess that this sort of thing matters to Jon:

"Did it with zero casualties."

[epistemological]

Right in that moment, how much he cared is... hard to say. But he seems satisfied by the telling of it, and he'll gesture towards the kitchen where they'd been the last time.

"You came back to tell me about it?"

[mrballisticsdummy]

"No, I came back because I told you I'd come back. I told you about it because it's exciting and somehow that fucking matters."

[epistemological]

"It does," he says and there's a brightness to his eyes that wasn't there a moment ago. Then he's ushering him. "I'm glad you came back, though. I... I would have been concerned, otherwise."

Basira still isn't back, after all.

[mrballisticsdummy]

"About little old me?"

He walks in, hands in his pockets. "I can take care of myself. But you? You're in here like a hermit by yourself."

[epistemological]

"Actually," he says with a gesture to the rest of the building, "there's a former member of the Piper's fellows here, an avatar of the Flesh being hidden somewhere, specifically by the Distortion's new skin. Not to mention our leader who is an avatar of the Lonely, not that we've ever met him."

"But they all avoid me."

[mrballisticsdummy]

Jacobi wrinkles his nose.

"You just hide them here and you don't know where it is. Gross and disturbing. Anyway, being avoided is the same as being alone. So, for real, where did you go? You heard about my night!"

[epistemological]

He pauses.

"...I do have needs. I was... attending to them."

And he'll start leading the way down to the Archives this time. He's made a decision, as insane as it is.

"You fed your patron, and I... handled mine."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Handled. That's one way to put it, I guess."

He trails dutifully along behind. "So where are we going? Gonna give me my knife now?"

[epistemological]

"No one was killed during my business either, if it matters," he says as he keeps leading him, down this time. "And no, I'm not giving you the knife."

He glances back.

"Why did you think I was going to give it to you now?"

[mrballisticsdummy]

"I didn't. I just thought it worth asking. And I don't care if you kill people."

He shrugs.

[epistemological]

"Yes, well, it's not really how my particular... I don't. In general."

A soft sigh to himself before he says something that sounds very much like "I just get them killed".

There's a sign that says they're heading into the Archives.

[mrballisticsdummy]

He hears that and sighs. "Who cares? People die. That's what they do."

[epistemological]

He looks back at him.

"And the ones you cared about. The ones that make you want to mutilate yourself. Are they not also 'people'?"

[mrballisticsdummy]

"They are. And they died. Just like everyone else."

He meets his gaze steadily. "And no one cares but me."

[epistemological]

He shakes his head and he'll lead him down into his office, gesturing to a chair.

"I care," he says quietly, "but I care distantly. Politely. But I do have the means for more than that, and I'd like to offer that."

He sits in his own seat.

"Tell me about them. I want to Know so you don't have to mourn them alone."

[mrballisticsdummy]

He takes the chair and leans back, lounging more than actually sitting.

"I don't know if I can..." he admits.

[epistemological]

Jon looks at Daniel thoughtfully.

"Do you want to? No worry about 'can'."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Are you going to force it if I say yes?"

He runs his hands through his hair. "Does it even count?"

[epistemological]

"No, I won't," he says, "not that I can't. But I- I don't like to. The option is open for you, however."