[He probably should have sent this earlier. Or he just... shouldn't send it at all? He's trying to be less monstrous, though. An apology might not mean much all things considered, but he probably owes the woman an explanation, at least.]
I wanted to extend a formal apology for our last encounter, Ms. Ives. I'll be sure to avoid you in the future. As much as I can.
Sorry.
[That's... insufficient, but he's really not sure where else to go with that.]
[ it may be a long time before she finally answers him. is it apparent that his text has been read several times and left unresponded to? possibly. can he view that on his end? probably.
but when she does reply after some time has passed: ]
May I ask you something, Mr. Sims? If you'd be kind enough to oblige me.
[He's halfway expecting she won't respond at all, so he's not particularly fretting over the lack of reply. When he does get a notification for the returned message, Jon frowns.]
Was it me specifically you sought that day, on the street? Or would anyone have proved sufficient enough in that moment if the circumstances had been different?
None. People whose interactions were horrific and terrifying might be more appealing, but anyone with those experiences would technically do for a Statement.
I'm sorry.
I've spoken with someone. To find a way to make myself stop. As much as it's possible.
Please just run away if you see me in-person. I can't help the dreams.
Then it's true that these Statements feed you, in some way. Am I to understand there are adverse effects that occur if you do not take enough of them?
[ she won't address the other part of it. she can't bring herself to. it's easier, she thinks, if she focuses on some fragment of truth rather than consider what could have been had he stopped. ]
Yes. I get very ill without them. I've never got to the point of death, but I expect something like it could occur. Not so much my body as my... consciousness. Feed that which feeds you. Or you'll be consumed. I'm the Archivist. Jonathan Sims died in a building collapse several months before I came here. I'm still Jonathan Sims, I think? But I'm wearing him. The Archivist has been others. I've been others? But I feel like me now. Ever since the collapse I feel like I'm finally me again. The Archivist, an avatar for the Ceaseless Watcher. A godlike creature beyond this plane of existence that thrives on knowing too much, seeing too much and into the heart of a person. It consumes me and it sees through me and it is hungry for all that is here that it has not yet touched.
[There's a break as Jon pulls himself back to himself.]
Sorry. What's relevant is that before all that happened I could just take written Statements. They don't affect people in the same way. I don't Watch them after. Since then there have been... different sorts of impulses. I'm afraid you were the victim of such a thing, Ms. Ives. I wasn't able to read for a time due to a curse, which prevented me feeding in my more typical way. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
un: thearchivist; text
I wanted to extend a formal apology for our last encounter, Ms. Ives. I'll be sure to avoid you in the future. As much as I can.
Sorry.
[That's... insufficient, but he's really not sure where else to go with that.]
text;
but when she does reply after some time has passed: ]
May I ask you something, Mr. Sims? If you'd be kind enough to oblige me.
no subject
That would certainly be fair.
no subject
no subject
But it's not anyone who would have done.
It had to be a particular sort of person.
no subject
Particular in what way?
no subject
Or are supernatural.
no subject
no subject
People whose interactions were horrific and terrifying might be more appealing, but anyone with those experiences would technically do for a Statement.
I'm sorry.
I've spoken with someone.
To find a way to make myself stop.
As much as it's possible.
Please just run away if you see me in-person.
I can't help the dreams.
no subject
You've given me a greater understanding, and for that I am appreciative. I too know what it's like to be compelled by a power beyond your control.
no subject
I knew exactly what I was doing to you.
I was curious.
I just... wanted to know.
It felt like I needed to know.
I was so hungry.
But I knew.
I should have stopped.
I should have made myself stop and I didn't.
no subject
[ she won't address the other part of it. she can't bring herself to. it's easier, she thinks, if she focuses on some fragment of truth rather than consider what could have been had he stopped. ]
no subject
Yes.
I get very ill without them.
I've never got to the point of death, but I expect something like it could occur.
Not so much my body as my... consciousness.
Feed that which feeds you.
Or you'll be consumed.
I'm the Archivist.
Jonathan Sims died in a building collapse several months before I came here.
I'm still Jonathan Sims, I think?
But I'm wearing him.
The Archivist has been others.
I've been others?
But I feel like me now.
Ever since the collapse I feel like I'm finally me again.
The Archivist, an avatar for the Ceaseless Watcher.
A godlike creature beyond this plane of existence that thrives on knowing too much, seeing too much and into the heart of a person.
It consumes me and it sees through me and it is hungry for all that is here that it has not yet touched.
[There's a break as Jon pulls himself back to himself.]
Sorry.
What's relevant is that before all that happened I could just take written Statements.
They don't affect people in the same way.
I don't Watch them after.
Since then there have been... different sorts of impulses.
I'm afraid you were the victim of such a thing, Ms. Ives.
I wasn't able to read for a time due to a curse, which prevented me feeding in my more typical way.
You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.