Recording #002 | June Log

[the_archive]

WHO | Jon and OTA.
WHAT | DITL mostly, with a few starts in the comments. Feel free to run into Jon anywhere mentioned. He's flexing his Knowing, so if you're interested in dropping some knowledge, that'd be lovely.
WHERE | The Castle, Thorne, the Library, the Dungeon
WHEN | Post-Festival through the rest of June

Realizing that his connection to the Eye is whole again rather soured the end of the Festival for Jon. He spent a day behind the curtains in his room, enduring a headache, but now that's settled down to a mute throb, he's walking off the rest of it while he wrestles with himself.

It's not a surprise, this reconnection. Ambrose told him the respite would only be for a few days. And it's not explicitly unwanted. There are a lot of questions to which he needs answers, and he knows he can seek out those answers, but not without some cost. He knows he'll do it, since the information isn't only for himself. He has to work up the courage.

And he hasn't read a statement in over two weeks now, which is... troublesome. Despite taking full advantage of the dining hall daily (okay, nearly daily), he's aware of a constant vague hunger.

So the walking is as much distraction as exploration. He's going to wear out his sandals pacing the corridors of the castle and the aisles of the library, walking out into the town. He mostly confines his town visits to mid-day, when folk are often too busy to waylay an "honoured guest."

Comments

[not_caroline]

Like it'd be hard for her to miss that.

Once upon a time, a look like that would have her already gone, vanished in less than a puff of dust to hide in the arms of a tree willing to protect her. She's gotten bold since, taking refuge in rage and audacity.

That being said, she still steps up and jumps easily back up onto her branch with nary a scramble or piece of bark dislodged, pulling herself up and draping her chest over it with a deceptive laziness, leaving her legs hanging with one foot folded behind the other ankle. "Maybe I wanna know. You're convinced you've already brought the Eye here with you, not that you're just like- manifesting its powers. So if you're worried about something else being in your head, that means something."

[the_archive]

He shakes his head, lifting a hand in placation as he looks up at her.

"It isn't like that. I don't have theories, I know what I have wound up in me. Only the Eye can... act through me.

"All I meant was, well, that it rotted my brain quite some time ago. A bad joke. Mostly a joke."

[not_caroline]

She just pulls a face at him, swinging her legs up so she can push off Jon's shoulder with one foot in mind punishment.

"The way you made it sound, I have to check. There's other Changelings like that, that are all fucked up and rotten and still loyal to their Keepers, so." She hasn't met any but she knows it's a thing. "I like keeping tabs on how exactly you're a piece of shit up there."

[the_archive]

"Well, I'm not a Changeling." And the idea gives him goosebumps, remembering. "We have... something like that too. Less charming, very rotten."

[not_caroline]

"Yeah, you don't look anywhere weird enough." He's just kind of fucked-up looking in the normal ways.

She pushes herself up on her branch again, sitting side-saddle on it. "Do I get to hear it, or is that one of those 'too close to home' things?"

[the_archive]

He lets himself lean against the trunk of the tree, reflecting for a moment.

Poking a bruise, metaphorically.

"About two years back, something killed my friend and replaced her. And we didn't notice for months."

[not_caroline]

"...oh."

Her voice is... surprisingly quiet, for that revelation, and she pulls one leg up to hug it as she looks away.

[the_archive]

He looks up, aware that it wasn't only his bruise, then.

"It couldn't happen, now," he offers. In case it's a reassurance. He'd Know, now.

[not_caroline]

She just shrugs one shoulder. "It's not that. It's just, like..."

She's silent for a few seconds despite herself. "Me too. Kind of."

[the_archive]

Jon picks up a broken twig to give his hands something to do, meeting her eyes sideways. She can expand on that or not, if she wants. He'll listen. But not ask.

[not_caroline]

Coraline, on the other hand, is just very, very still. Anyone else might lose sight of her for a few seconds.

Eventually she says, quietly and with malice, "When a Changeling first gets taken, their Keeper leaves a copy behind, so their family and friends don't know they're missing. It's called a Fetch. Mine still lives with my mum, most of the time."

[the_archive]

Jon catches a glimpse, for a moment, of Coral's Mask again. But it's not, it's her own face on something else, looking a little older and gently... sad. He frowns to himself, jaw tightening, and pushes back against the unwelcome information.

"Coraline-" he starts, voice softer. Apologetic.

[not_caroline]

She's not looking at him. In fact, the change in his tone of voice makes her visibly bristle, leafy hair twitching like there's something scurrying through it. She doesn't want your pity.

"It's fine. They deserve each other. I've got my dad back and he's great. He and Hunter get along amazing, so I've got all the people I care about in one spot."

[the_archive]

He rolls the twig in his fingers, making the bark loosen so it peels away.

"Good. That's good." But he exhales, with a slight shake of his head.

"I- caught something there. About it." He doesn't promise to try harder to keep the Eye to himself, because they've already been over promises. But he wants to. "I'm sorry."

[not_caroline]

She's still again, but not before a baleful yellow eye glows down at him from over her shoulder.

"What did you get?" Her tone is almost entirely flat, apathetic and expectant.

[the_archive]

"It understands. It thinks it does," he amends, all too aware that those aren't the same thing. "If it can."

Despite the flicker of knowing, the mere idea of the Fetch gives him a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.

[not_caroline]

The stare continues, eerily unblinking, until a curtain of hair shifts and she looks away.

"They're supposed to. They're meant to make people think that they're just as real and normal as the person they're replacing. But Dad knew, he could tell it wasn't me."

[the_archive]

Jon looks away, uneasy himself.

“Your dad sounds like a useful one to have around.”

[not_caroline]

She seems to relax a little, if her softer voice is anything to go by.

"He's a good person. He always tries, for me. Even if all the magic stuff scares him."

[the_archive]

"Useful and smart." He smirks, but there's something sad in his voice, the curve of his shoulders.