Jonah Magnus is very interested in joining a community formed around Robert Smirke. He isn’t accepting any new members but that’s just a minor inconvenience Jonah can work with.
“Barnabas are you certain it is alright for me just come like that? Without a proper invitation? Have you discussed with at least someone that it won’t be an issue?”
“You worry yourself way too much, Jonah. It is fine, trust me. How many times do I need to say it?”
Jonah sighs as his dear friend pushes his concerns aside yet again. But how could he not be a bit worried? He has been in a London for just a few months and even though he feels like he learnt in that time more about manners and society than in his whole life before he is still somewhat uncertain by his own place within said society. Unlike Barnabas, he doesn’t have years of practice to act so nonchalantly, demanding things as if he was somehow entitled to them.
Things like becoming member of one more or less secret gentlemen gathering. As unofficial the community around promising young architect Robert Smirke tries to be there is many rumors everywhere trying to determine what is the purpose of it and what are they discussing there?
Rating: G Fandom:The Magnus Archives Characters: Jonah Magnus, Robert Smirke (Mordechai Lukas and George Gilbert Scott are noted as present, but do not play a large role) Ao3 Link: archiveofourown.org/works/32753245
“To define is to limit.” -Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
From the beginning, the company of Jonah Magnus is a mixed blessing and
curse for Robert Smirke and his attempts at balancing the Powers.
“Jonah, it’s really too late. I’m sure whatever it is you are working on can wait until morning; come to bed.”
“It can’t, and regardless, I’m not tired enough yet to sleep.” He was pouring over some books, faint candlelight illuminating the text just barely enough that Jonah had to strain his eyes to see what was written. Truly, he could do with the sleep; he had the beginnings of a headache at the moment, and given he’d forgotten to eat today, he was running out of energy.
Robert gave him a disapproving glare. He was standing in the doorway of the room that was officially his, but they had been sharing for the past few months. Jonah was facing away from him, hunched over the papers and books that were scattered across his desk, pretending he didn’t know well the expression on his—what were they at this point? More than friends, certainly—on his lover’s face.
Jonah Magnus was sitting in the dim light of the candles behind the desk in his office. It has been few a years since the Magnus Institute got connected to the electricity grid of London; however even as electricity has been becoming a norm in growing number of buildings the reliability has barely improved.
There has been something almost calming about the gentle shine on top of the candlestick. It reminds him off his beginnings when he would spent long nights studying, trying to understand all the rules of the world around him and find a way to break them. Sometimes he hasn’t even noticed when exactly the candle burned out and was replaced by the daylight.
He smiles and as a force of a habit reaches to fondly stroke the skull sitting on his table. Barnabas always used to scold him for the lack of rest… On its way his hand shuffles some papers lying in the way… Ah, yes, an unfinished letter from another deceased acquaintance he used to call a friend long time ago.
