When you bring me your next Statement, yes. It's a rib, not terribly exciting. Although, he did say it was a funny one when he was taking it out. Make of that what you will.
You do know that if we do this, it would be best if we do this alone. Blackwood won't be happy about this to begin with. It's best we keep it our little secret.
[That's a bad idea. He's trying to be good for Martin and Dorian pushes. But Dorian isn't wrong. Maybe... maybe just the once. If he's careful. Dorian isn't like Elias. Martin doesn't like him and he's awful, but he's not... well, apocalypse-minded awful. And he does still feel the tiniest bit bad about what had happened last time. Even if Martin had told him not to apologize. It had been Jon's fault.]
The only thing you're going to touch is my rib. And we're meeting for no more than 30 minutes. Agreed?
[Jon sends along the library location and room number later that day. The next afternoon, he's pacing the small conference room he's booked, fretting over whether this is a good idea or not. He has a message to Martin pulled up on his phone as he circles the central table. He should tell the other man this is happening. There's even a message half-typed into it. Deleted and rewritten multiple times. Martin could get here in a snap. Maybe...
The door opens, and the Archivist nearly jumps out of his skin, dropping his phone on the floor as he whirls around.]
[ When Dorian's arrived, for the first time he's not trying to cover up his submissive throat mark. Instead, he's got it on full display, first two buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, outfit perfectly framed to display the fact that he's wearing one of the pet play collars Jon accidentally gifted him. The only difference is that he's taken off the bell and replaced it with a metal ring.
Jon can tell that there's a Statement in Dorian's inner coat pocket. He gives Jon a smiiiile before sitting down in one of the conference room chairs. ]
I'll keep things within the time limit, I just want to ask a few questions first. [ and nope, not even gonna give Jon a chance to protest as Dorian continues talking. ] What will actually happen with the Statement I give you? Will it go in your files with all the rest?
[Jon's attention hones in on that Statement, like a cat that's seen his quarry, and his phone is left buzzing softly on the ground as a series of texts are returned. The Archivist stalks around the table to where he's put a satchel and sets that on the table before sitting down, himself.]
I'll record it, obviously. Statements from program participants go into a private collection. I don't allow anyone but myself access.
[ Dorian's expression shifts a little as he thinks things over. He's obviously of two minds about this. Sure, Jon says that he doesn't allow anyone but himself access...but Dorian still managed to steal a Statement from Jon back when they first met. Was that in a private collection? And for all that Jon said he doesn't allow himself access, Dorian can think of a few people that he might end up giving access anyway.
He's obviously thinking things over. Stalling for time, Dorian nods then continues talking. ]
[Jon frowns at the other man, still eyeing his coat. But, he does open his satchel and draw from it a full human rib. From the size, Dorian can likely guess that it's from the lowest part of Jon's rib cage. He sets it on the table and nudges it toward the other man.]
The full story would take far more than thirty minutes, but the abridged version is that I needed to rescue someone from an evil coffin after she was thrown inside, and I required an anchor to find my way back out of it. I'd just read a Statement that seemed to indicate the flesh was a powerful anchor.
I-I tried cutting off a finger, but it wouldn't stick. It hurt, but no matter how many times I cut it off, whenever I took the knife away, it was still attached. One of my assistants caught me at it and offered an... alternative. There is an avatar of the Flesh known as the Boneturner. He and his minions had attacked the Institute while I was... away for a bit, and Helen... the Distortion--another avatar--she'd captured the Boneturner within a sort of- pocket dimension? It's essentially a hell maze where the Distortion sends people to slowly go mad with terror and die. Sort of like a stomach.
It's an unpleasant place. In any case, she'd been keeping Jared--the Boneturner--locked up in there and let me go into speak with him. I offered him a deal. I needed him to take out a rib, and I'd have Helen let him out. He has a particular ability that lets him reach into a body and pull out anything he wants without ripping a person open. Like-like they're made of... jelly or something. He also had a Statement I wanted. He offered to give it to me for another rib. One for him, one for me, and Helen lets him out the door.
And that's why I have that rib and a rather more hourglass-shaped figure than I used to have.
[ That's a rib. Dorian reaches over to the rib and picks it up, holding the rib and looking it over, examining the thing as Jon tells his story. The whole story is exactly the thing he loves: more information about Jon's universe, more knowledge about those different avatars, more knowledge about each individual power that's impacted Jon's life.
There's a hundred questions that enter Dorian's mind. Why would Helen help you? How did the Flesh attack the Institute? If Jon had both of his bottom ribs removed, could he suck his own dick? Admittedly, a few of those questions were more useful than others. There's a moment's pause before Dorian sets the rib down, gently in front of Jon. ]
Then I suppose it was worth it in the end, [ Dorian muses. He's a bit lost in thought, thinking of Jon's rib, thinking of the idea about meeting someone powerful enough to rip bones from your body, thinking about all the sorts of nasty things with that power could do to Jon—or hell, even to him.
And thinking about how he's got to uphold his end of the deal and what sort of move he'll take next. ]
It was smart of you to choose a rib. If I had to take a guess, I'd say that bones don't...grow the way that organs do.
I mean, I've had to regrow bones before. They've gotten shattered and broken. But I haven't had to regrow an entire bone that was forcefully removed from my body the way yours was.
[ There's a decided emphasis on that as Dorian gestures towards Jon's rib. Because seriously, that's strange. Even for Dorian 'I've seen so much bullshit in my life' Gray, that's a little odd. ]
[ Dorian pauses for a moment, as if collecting himself. He takes a deep breath before placing his hands at his side. ]
I know you said that no one else would see the written Statement, but honestly? I don't know if I trust you on that. I want this to remain a secret, Jon, and the more places it's written down, the more people can learn about it.
[ It's already going to be on that tape recorder. Dorian doesn't think there's anything he can do about it. But he can tell Jon the story instead of giving it to him. That should be enough.
What's one more round of horrific nightmares compared to what he's already got? Dorian can handle it. He hopes. ]
So I'm going to tell you it instead. This is the story of Dorian Gray and the last time I encountered Lucifer himself.
But then, why else would a tape recorder have turned up and clicked on? It knows.]
Stop. Stop! Stop... I- the nightmares. That's- you will have nightmares about this. For the rest of our mutual existence. Do you actually want that?
[The Archivist wants this. It's taking a great deal of willpower at the moment to say anything, and some of his protests may be a bit undercut by how hungrily he's staring at Dorian.]
[ Dorian also wants this. His eyes light up with excitement as he sees Jon stare at him. After the confusion of the time after the storm, when he was sick with...something, it's reassuring to see that he can still be wanted in such a manner even when everyone's themselves.
Of course, then Jon has to go and open his mouth and try to stop him. ]
Jon, when I say that I don't want anybody else to know about this, I mean I don't want anybody else to know about this. [ Dorian snaps, doing a terrible job of hiding his irritation. Of course, that begs the question as to why he'd tell Jon about it in the first place. ]
I've already got nightmares thanks to you and to my own choices. I can stand another.
[He flinches visibly at the mention of already having nightmares. He knows that's the case, but the guilt claws at his insides.]
No one will- No one else has to-
[Jon starts patting his pockets down, looking for his phone. He should call Martin, ask him to confirm that this is okay. Dorian is offering it. This wasn't what he'd expected to get in trade for his own story. His phone seems to be missing, though. Where did it- Ah, he'd dropped it.
In spite of the fact that he needs to keep looking, Jon just continues to gaze at Dorian, leaning in a little toward him, eyes unblinking.]
Do you actually want to tell me this story?
[There's power laced through that question, a demand for truth from those beautiful lips.]
I do. [ He says, without hesitation. Dorian finds himself talking, out and out compelled as Dorian meets Jon's gaze with his own. ] I really don't want Blackwood to learn about this. He already thinks I'm a villain—the last thing I need is to give him more ammunition.
[ Which naturally means that Martin's going to learn about this at some point. Dorian doesn't seem to realize that, though. ]
Besides, I like the idea of being in your mind. It means you'll never be rid of me.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Can I see it?
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When you bring me your next Statement, yes.
It's a rib, not terribly exciting.
Although, he did say it was a funny one when he was taking it out.
Make of that what you will.
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Blackwood won't be happy about this to begin with. It's best we keep it our little secret.
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The only thing you're going to touch is my rib.
And we're meeting for no more than 30 minutes.
Agreed?
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30 minutes it is. Pick a place or I'll pick one for you.
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I'll reserve a room at one of the libraries in the Up.
When I have the booking, I'll send along the details.
Tomorrow afternoon?
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>action
The door opens, and the Archivist nearly jumps out of his skin, dropping his phone on the floor as he whirls around.]
Finally. Let's make this quick.
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Jon can tell that there's a Statement in Dorian's inner coat pocket. He gives Jon a smiiiile before sitting down in one of the conference room chairs. ]
I'll keep things within the time limit, I just want to ask a few questions first. [ and nope, not even gonna give Jon a chance to protest as Dorian continues talking. ] What will actually happen with the Statement I give you? Will it go in your files with all the rest?
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I'll record it, obviously. Statements from program participants go into a private collection. I don't allow anyone but myself access.
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He's obviously thinking things over. Stalling for time, Dorian nods then continues talking. ]
Show me your rib and tell me your story first.
cw: mentions of self-harm/attempted dismemberment
The full story would take far more than thirty minutes, but the abridged version is that I needed to rescue someone from an evil coffin after she was thrown inside, and I required an anchor to find my way back out of it. I'd just read a Statement that seemed to indicate the flesh was a powerful anchor.
I-I tried cutting off a finger, but it wouldn't stick. It hurt, but no matter how many times I cut it off, whenever I took the knife away, it was still attached. One of my assistants caught me at it and offered an... alternative. There is an avatar of the Flesh known as the Boneturner. He and his minions had attacked the Institute while I was... away for a bit, and Helen... the Distortion--another avatar--she'd captured the Boneturner within a sort of- pocket dimension? It's essentially a hell maze where the Distortion sends people to slowly go mad with terror and die. Sort of like a stomach.
It's an unpleasant place. In any case, she'd been keeping Jared--the Boneturner--locked up in there and let me go into speak with him. I offered him a deal. I needed him to take out a rib, and I'd have Helen let him out. He has a particular ability that lets him reach into a body and pull out anything he wants without ripping a person open. Like-like they're made of... jelly or something. He also had a Statement I wanted. He offered to give it to me for another rib. One for him, one for me, and Helen lets him out the door.
And that's why I have that rib and a rather more hourglass-shaped figure than I used to have.
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There's a hundred questions that enter Dorian's mind. Why would Helen help you? How did the Flesh attack the Institute? If Jon had both of his bottom ribs removed, could he suck his own dick? Admittedly, a few of those questions were more useful than others. There's a moment's pause before Dorian sets the rib down, gently in front of Jon. ]
Did it hurt?
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Indescribably. But it did what it needed to.
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And thinking about how he's got to uphold his end of the deal and what sort of move he'll take next. ]
It was smart of you to choose a rib. If I had to take a guess, I'd say that bones don't...grow the way that organs do.
[ There is DEFINITELY a story behind this. ]
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[And speaking of, there's one sitting on the table now. It's unclear when it arrived there, but Jon certainly hadn't taken one out.]
You've mentioned your regenerative abilities. You've not had to regrow bones?
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[ There's a decided emphasis on that as Dorian gestures towards Jon's rib. Because seriously, that's strange. Even for Dorian 'I've seen so much bullshit in my life' Gray, that's a little odd. ]
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It's not something I've missed. And far better than losing a finger, on the whole.
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[ Is he mostly talking about body horror to delay him talking about the Devil? Got it in one. ]
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[Jon stares pointedly at where he knows it's waiting.]
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[ Dorian pauses for a moment, as if collecting himself. He takes a deep breath before placing his hands at his side. ]
I know you said that no one else would see the written Statement, but honestly? I don't know if I trust you on that. I want this to remain a secret, Jon, and the more places it's written down, the more people can learn about it.
[ It's already going to be on that tape recorder. Dorian doesn't think there's anything he can do about it. But he can tell Jon the story instead of giving it to him. That should be enough.
What's one more round of horrific nightmares compared to what he's already got? Dorian can handle it. He hopes. ]
So I'm going to tell you it instead. This is the story of Dorian Gray and the last time I encountered Lucifer himself.
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But then, why else would a tape recorder have turned up and clicked on? It knows.]
Stop. Stop! Stop... I- the nightmares. That's- you will have nightmares about this. For the rest of our mutual existence. Do you actually want that?
[The Archivist wants this. It's taking a great deal of willpower at the moment to say anything, and some of his protests may be a bit undercut by how hungrily he's staring at Dorian.]
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Of course, then Jon has to go and open his mouth and try to stop him. ]
Jon, when I say that I don't want anybody else to know about this, I mean I don't want anybody else to know about this. [ Dorian snaps, doing a terrible job of hiding his irritation. Of course, that begs the question as to why he'd tell Jon about it in the first place. ]
I've already got nightmares thanks to you and to my own choices. I can stand another.
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No one will- No one else has to-
[Jon starts patting his pockets down, looking for his phone. He should call Martin, ask him to confirm that this is okay. Dorian is offering it. This wasn't what he'd expected to get in trade for his own story. His phone seems to be missing, though. Where did it- Ah, he'd dropped it.
In spite of the fact that he needs to keep looking, Jon just continues to gaze at Dorian, leaning in a little toward him, eyes unblinking.]
Do you actually want to tell me this story?
[There's power laced through that question, a demand for truth from those beautiful lips.]
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[ Which naturally means that Martin's going to learn about this at some point. Dorian doesn't seem to realize that, though. ]
Besides, I like the idea of being in your mind. It means you'll never be rid of me.
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cw straight up murder
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