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

[mrballisticsdummy]

And he'll take it, raising it up to him. "Cheers, I guess." It's the farthest thing from it, but it doesn't matter.

[epistemological]

He'll join him in the toast as they drink.

It doesn't do anything for him but hopefully it will for Daniel.

[mrballisticsdummy]

One drink. Ertainly doesn't, but it's been so long that, like Jon, there's something comforting in it.

"Is this what you do down here all day?"

[epistemological]

He shakes his head.

"No, mostly I research. Especially having to do with that."

And he'll gesture off to one side to where there is, of all things, a coffin chained up with a lock on it.

[mrballisticsdummy]

"The hell is that?" he mutters, bringing one leg up in the chair so he can gawk at it properly.

"Or is that what you're trying to figure out? Next question. Why the fuck do you have it in your office?"

[epistemological]

"Because it was delivered to me," he says with a soft huff, "and within it is a... friend of mine. I've been trying to figure out how to get her out of there. And how not to end up with her in there."

[mrballisticsdummy]

He takes another drink as Jon speaks, but he can't help a little shiver at the implications in that.

And then he finds himself asking before really thinking - "Can I help?"

[epistemological]

He blinks... but he realizes he's not surprised. Not really.

"Probably."

He tips his head towards the coffin.

"It leads into the Buried. The very heart of it. I've a couple of statements regarding it, but I haven't figured out how to extract anyone from it. Here, if you want to read."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"And you've got a friend trapped in there?" He actually leans forward a little. "That sucks."

He pauses a little, realizes that's probably too callous, and glances to Jon. "Sorry." He takes it from him and reads through, setting the glass down on the desk.

[epistemological]

A soft huff. No, no, 'that sucks' is about right.

"She was helping us to stop the Unknowing, the Stranger's ritual that they'd been working on while you were away. I... can't leave her in there. Especially knowing it's one of the things she's most afraid of."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Of course it is," he deadpans. "You know, it was nice being away for a while. I mean, as away as you can get. Nothing to get tangled into."

He casts a look to the coffin again. "How long has it been?"

[epistemological]

"I was in a coma for about six months after the Unknowing," he provides, "and it's been two months since then. I got the coffin about three weeks ago."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Love a good coma story." He stands up and walks towards the coffin, but not too close. He's not particularly afraid of it, but he's not stupid enough to waltz over without caution.

He ends up returning to the desk and sitting on it before he picks up his drink.

"Well, I'm here as long as I need to be. You're not going to - open that thing, are you?"

[epistemological]

Jon notices the wariness.

"It can't do anything unless you open it and walk in. Oh, it will try and draw you, but there's no jump scare to be found there."

He tips his head to one side.

"And no, not yet. Not til I know how to get her out."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"If you go in, how confident are you that you can even find her?" he wonders softly. "It wouldn't be as effective if you're not just - trapped there by yourself."

He's more musing than he is actually speaking.

[epistemological]

"I can know where she is," he says honestly, "I know where she is now. The matter is getting to her and getting back."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Maybe you just need something that can lead you back," he tells him idly, picking up his mutilated paperclip from where he left it. With a sheepish sort of smile, he tries to rub out the scorch marks on the desk.

[epistemological]

That... makes him pause.

"...you might be onto something. Any suggestions?"

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Well, something here that can...pull you back. Like a beacon or...no.... An anchor?"

[epistemological]

"That... would work, I think," he says as he starts looking through some of his notes. "Though. I'm, um... not sure what would serve as an anchor. I've hardly any keepsakes and I mentioned my family situation."

[mrballisticsdummy]

He looks to the coffin and then back to Jon.

"What about me? Hear me out."

He swivels around to face him, his legs to one side of the desk. "I know I just came to bother you yesterday but you're - kind of the reason I'm still around. You clearly give a shit."

[epistemological]

A long pause.

"...I do. I do very much care. Perhaps more than I ought to, if only because you're-" he swallows, "I understand your desire. Even if it's not something I believe will help."

He glances at him.

"Do you think that would serve?"

[mrballisticsdummy]

"It goes against everything that I am, but - I mean. It's worth it, right? If you get your friend back. I can't get mine but - you deserve yours."

[epistemological]

There's a long pause before... he nods. And looks at the coffin. The key is in the lock on it, and the idea of waiting any longer than he has to is utterly anathema to how he thinks. That's why he gets up and walks over, turning back to Jacobi.

"Can you stay here? In the room? Being closer... I do think it will help."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Yeah," he assures him. "Of course."

Jacobi joins him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders in an embrace. He takes care not to burn, as this is the first close contact he's had in longer than he cares to remember.