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[mrballisticsdummy]

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[statementfuckingends]

There is a certain level of crazy bastard I'm willing to tolerate - and you're lucky there is, or I probably wouldn't be your warden - but a fucking bear cult is well beyond the pale.

[mrballisticsdummy]

I'm glad you've seen the light, Tim. Welcome back to some sort of sanity.

[statementfuckingends]

Please, nothing's changed on my end, I just learned more about him.

And also nearly decked the little twat for slagging off about you.

[mrballisticsdummy]

My hero.

Why waste the energy when I can do it myself but harder and better? Also, you're a warden. You shouldn't be starting fights.

[statementfuckingends]

Maybe not, but I reserve to the one with primary shit-talking rights about you, what with the whole warden thing.

[mrballisticsdummy]

Well yeah. Also, you have the balls to say all your shit talk to my face. Which already puts you miles ahead.

[statementfuckingends]

God. D'you know he was so passive aggressive about it? I asked how he was and he just asked if I was gonna watch you chase him again.

[mrballisticsdummy]

Insecurity'll do that to a person. It's so cute that he thinks about me so much.

Hey. Speaking of insecurity.

Fucking Jon.

[statementfuckingends]

[That's all it takes to get a drawn-out sigh from Tim, but his tone is in agreement.]

Fucking Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

[mrballisticsdummy]

Yeah, thanks to that fun little jaunt into your world, I figured out his stupid secret.

Told him I'd help him out, too. Since you seem to have it covered for the moment.

[statementfuckingends]

Yeah, that's honestly what it took for me too. Didn't realise that was what was making him look half bloody dead all the time.

I told him about what turned the other me into an avatar. Seems like it was a pretty juicy one since he had the energy to tear into me afterwards.

[mrballisticsdummy]

Tear into you? Over what? I mean, I can think of a lot of things, but what specifically got him going?

[statementfuckingends]

's'kind of just our whole deal.

[...no, that's deflecting and he knows it. There's a moment's quiet as he takes a drink and just sighs.]

If I'm not gonna let him wallow in his self-loathing sacrificial bullshit, by virtue of being one of the only people who can call him out on it properly, he's not gonna let me wallow in mine.

[mrballisticsdummy]

Yeah, you both are pretty annoying about it.

Do you know how hard it is to get that man to say anything good about himself? At least you have some shallow sense of self worth. In that you know you look good in tight t-shirts. He doesn't even have that.

Why is it that I, the literal bad guy here, is the one who has zero self esteem problems?

[statementfuckingends]

[That gets a bark of laughter out of Tim.]

The fact he's missing two ribs doesn't help the t-shirt thing for him.

Besides, pretty much anything negative about yourself you've probably got locked up in a neat little box. You're not any better than us, you're just less vocal about it.

[mrballisticsdummy]

You think you know me so well.

My...insecurities all center around one thing. Or rather, one person. Three guesses, but you only need one.

Warren took all the other insecurities I felt and forced me to face them day after day after day. Why do you think I'm so good at what I do? Each mission, he made me do something I didn't think I could do, until there didn't seem to be anything I couldn't do anymore.

I don't lose my shit because of self esteem issues, Tim.

[statementfuckingends]

One, I never said self esteem. Congrats that your cock's exactly as big as you say it is. Two, I'm happy to report that none of my issues are even remotely related to self esteem.

Anyway, if you want to help him you're gonna want to unlock some of those boxes so he's got something to actually feed on.

[mrballisticsdummy]

Look, Tim. I know you're dying to get in my pants, but talking about my cock isn't going to do it.

[A bit more serious:] And I know that. I'm not really looking forward to that part. But maybe we can kill two birds with one stone. Help Jon and open boxes that you can't open. I'm self aware enough to realize that nothing he rips open is going to be healed.

[statementfuckingends]

[His smirk is audible, but when he speaks after Jacobi his tone matches the slightly more intense discussion.]

Alright, well. Is there anything you wanna know about it? Jon's pretty thorough about explaining the whole thing, but I don't know he's ever been the actual subject of one.

[mrballisticsdummy]

Nah, he said he's good for a few weeks and we'd come back to it then. So I plan on bullying him about it then.

I told him that if he tried to dodge, I'd come to you, though.

CW language lmao

[statementfuckingends]

Hah. I doubt you'd need me, you could hold him down single-handedly.

[And he puts on a terrible American accent that's totally meant to be Jacobi.]

Statement of Daniel Jacobi, regarding... I dunno, The Listeners being cunts.

[mrballisticsdummy]

[He laughs so hard that he gives himself the hiccups.]

I meant that you could help walk me through how to force feed a statement down his throat. But I beat him up when he cheats at Mario Kart, so you're right about that.

And the Listeners are the least of my goddamn trauma.

[statementfuckingends]

[And Jacobi laughing sets off Tim's stupid cackle and he does snort.]

Well, there's your primer then. Statement of, your name here, regarding Spooky Bullshit. And if you do it with enough intent you'll hear a tape recorder when one manifests out of the bloody ether. It's the most useless superpower ever.

[mrballisticsdummy]

Oh I've seen the tape recorder thing. When we were talking about the thing outside of the module. The surrogate that looked like me.

[statementfuckingends]

Hah. [Though that one's a bit more bitter.] Yeah, they'll do that too. Sometimes it just pops off when you start discussing actual trauma around him, if Jon doesn't hold it in it turns real.