Melanie King | The Magnus Archives

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{Never see you anymore » @buffeted

[ghosthuntuk]

[A continuance.] Melanie waits out front, like Martin said. She worries about him sometimes. All the business with Lukas. The Lonely. Whatever It wanted to call Itself. She doesn't like it, and she hates not knowing the full scope of it even more. She supposes if anyone knows anything deeper, it'd be Jon, and as far as she knows the pair of them haven't exactly been so chummy lately, either. Something that is entirely disconcerting all on its own. She huffs a soft sigh and settles on the front steps of the institute, leaning forward against her knees until her forehead reached the tops of them and she shifts her fingers through her hair.

[buffeted]

There's no warning. One moment she's alone, and the next Martin is standing in front of her on one of the lower steps, his hands pushed into the pockets of his jeans and his eyes a little nervous and distant. It's.. been a while since he's really been around any of them; Melanie's offer had surprised him so much that he'd agreed nearly on reflex.

He offers a small, tired smile after a moment, but he can't hold it for long. He's.. definitely not the man he was when Melanie first began at the Institute. But then, are any of them the same?

"Hi," he says softly, brows knitting slightly. "Still feeling up to this?"

[ghosthuntuk]

There's a creeping, crawling sensation when another person is near, a sort of sixth sense, something predatory or maybe gifted to prey-- or both. This is like that, but multiplied and it makes her jolt when Martin is suddenly there, out of nothing. Nowhere. Just...there. "Jesus, Martin." She mutters, annoyed, though whether it was at him or her own momentary jump-scare is debatable. Despite it, she pushes through it, dusts it aside as she presses her hands against her knees before she drags herself to her feet. Only then does she truly take him in, exhaustion creeping across every inch of him in ways that are so far beyond physical and mental capacities. Skips right down into his bones. "Wow--" both brows arch dubiously at the sight of him. "You look-- well, honestly, you look awful." Part of Melanie's charm has always been her blunted directness, right? "'Course I am. Come on." she tugs once on his sleeve, leading the way down the steps and away from the Institute. They were getting drinks, and that was all there was to it.

[buffeted]

"I don't think any of us have looked our best in a while," Martin responds, voice mild and amusement flickering through his features and dying just as quickly. Do any of them really have the energy for humor these days? "And.. sorry. About startling you. I-- I don't mean to do it." But he's changing, and he often doesn't realize that someone hasn't noticed him.

Not that he'd ever been particularly noticeable before, but it's different now.

He steps back to let her stand, keeping a careful distance between them--not personal, just.. again, he's changing--then glancing away, out toward the street. "Did you have somewhere in mind?"

[ghosthuntuk]

"Yeah, fair." She supposes there's not even really any pretense to bother with, for him. He's so... alone all the time, there's not even anyone to judge him, or how he looks, or for him to bother even attempting anything like effort in that area for. Melanie still tries. Mostly for herself. She wants to not look like the living dead, even if she sometimes feels like it. "It's fine," she brushes the apology off, not entirely a fan of admitting she'd been startled in the first place. Move on, Martin. She certainly has.

"Yeah," she nods once, and leads the way, stopping once to make sure he was actually following her before explaining, "There's a pub around the corner that just opened up recently, I hear they've got great chips and I've been meaning to go by there and see what the fuss is about." Or she just opened up a map app on her phone and searched for the nearest one to the Institute. One of those.

@thehunt

[ghosthuntuk]

[I think we have some hyper-understanding of each other when drunk, because looking back at our text convo from last night, they were literally just jumbled letters.]

Yeah...
maybe not.

[She hates to admit it, but it's true. She's sure everyone knows that since Jon brought it up, quitting has been on Melanie's mind. She's hated it here for so long, it was impossible for it not to be the obvious leap for her.

But... it's a lot. She has to decide how. Not if. That part is already made up, but... she hasn't done it yet.]

I've been thinking about it,
you know.
Quitting.
I don't think I'll be here much longer,
Daisy.

[She wishes that didn't sound as dire as it does.]

@the_archivist

[ghosthuntuk]

[4. Help I accidentally unlocked this guy's tragic backstory and I need a rewind button!]

You'll be the same as the rest one day. Michael. Helen. They started as people, same as you. Look where it got them.

Re: @the_archivist

[the_archivist]

You seem rather friendly with Helen either way.

[thehunt]

[ When Jon relayed the news, Daisy was pretty certain one person would take it. Melanie. It didn't make sense for her not to, not after everything. Jon wouldn't. Martin wouldn't. Daisy wouldn't. Basira wouldn't. They're all stuck here and the level of disconnection it would take to quit is not something the four of them could justify.

But Melanie could. She deserved better than this. ]

You shouldn't have to be.

[ghosthuntuk]

Friendly is stretching it, Jon.

[ghosthuntuk]

I don't know what I'm going to do, after. I haven't gotten that far in the thought of it. But maybe... I can get my life back. Whatever's left of it, anyway.

[the_archivist]

And I'm not like them. They got eaten. I- I didn't.

[ghosthuntuk]

How long do you think you can keep fooling yourself that you're that different? You aren't human anymore, Jon. Stop pretending you are.

[the_archivist]

I know that, Melanie. You think watching my fingers heal up every time I tried to cut one off didn't tip me off?

Sorry I'm not growing scales or eating human flesh.

[ghosthuntuk]

Don't do that. It's not funny. But at some point, you have to accept it. All of this, Jon. It's shitty and it's awful and maybe you didn't mean to choose it, but it's happened and you're stuck. You can't go backwards. You can't hang on to whatever scraps of humanity might still exist in you. It's all going to be eaten away, in enough time. That's the whole point. Why should you be so special, so different than anyone else that's been wrapped up in all of this? Why should YOU, specifically, be the one to overcome the thing you're tied to?

[the_archivist]

Who said I was trying for funny?

So what? I should just stop? Throw myself into being the best monster that I can be because what's the point?Better get my coat and head out to find someone unlucky enough to have had a bad experience so I can make things infinitely worse.

Because I want to. I really do.

[ghosthuntuk]

At least if you did, the monster you are on the inside would match on the out. [She almost regrets it as soon as she sends it. Almost. But the truth is, after everything she's been through here, everything he's done, and done to her? She can't quite find it in herself to feel too bad about it.]

[the_archivist]

[That hurts. He hates that it hurts and clings to it as well, proof that he can still hurt. And he should have better control. He shouldn't let this push him over the edge, but he is so hungry, and so tired and lonely and he just wants it to stop.]

Fine.

[ghosthuntuk]

Fine. ---- She doesn't know what his 'fine' even means. Fine, she's right. Fine, fuck off. Fine, he's leaving to go soak up someone's misery. But whatever it is, it probably isn't good. Not that she's entirely sure what to do about it. Probably nothing. She should definitely not go marching into his office. So... she doesn't. She starts fussing with a stack of statements to sort them. She certainly doesn't want to record any statements, but she can at least do some pointless busywork to keep her mind off of things. Except that isn't the sort of thing that takes up enough brainspace to keep her very distracted and she can't stop thinking about what he really meant. She huffs and slams the file folder on the desk, pushing her chair back sharply. Melanie stomps through the halls to Jon's office and...doesn't wait to knock or gain entry, just shoves the door open abruptly. "What did that even mean? Fine." She asks, squinting at him.

[the_archivist]

He was still there, although he had loosened the trap door down into the tunnels just in case. Another night of exploration might help soothe some of the itch inside him. There's something down there for a sure and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to find out what it was.

But he hasn't gone down yet. Instead he's sat behind his desk, skimming through a sheaf of statements. He'd just grabbed them. The ones that called most strongly to him. The ones that called most strongly to the Eye.

He doesn't even look up when Melanie walks in, although the feeling of being watched intensifies.

"It isn't really any of your concern."

[ghosthuntuk]

"Jon." She growls his name out, eyes narrowing in a glare at him. As she takes in the disarray of his desk, statements in stacks across the top of it, she wonders if he ever even left the room. She'd attempted to keep herself busy for a good hour or so before she caved to her own whims.

[the_archivist]

"Sorry, I haven't been able to manifest extra eyes or claw or whatever yet to make sure I'm an easily identifiable monster. But it's only been an hour or so. I'm working on it."

[ghosthuntuk]

"You're an idiot." she rolls her eyes. A casually tossed insult doesn't exactly make the best conversation piece, but she's entirely too stubborn to let his snark be what makes her leave the room. So, she doubles down, as she's often wont to do. She doesn't bother waiting for any further invitation before slipping into the room and drops into the chair across from his desk, arms folded across her chest. "What are you doing?"

[the_archivist]

He finally looks up at her, a brief glance, before turning his attention back to the papers he's been sorting through. "I was thinking of having a snack," he says, with a grim smile that lacks humour and seems to have too many teeth.

[ghosthuntuk]

Her jaw sets and she leans forward on her knees. "You want it direct? Lot of things happened here when you were in your coma." Her tombstone will read: Melanie King, always too quick to rise to anything she saw as a challenge.