Thinking about Jonathan “went to a coworker’s birthday lunch stressed as hell, picked an old man ice cream flavor, infodumped about his current hyperfixation, left the lunch and promptly blacked the memory out” Sims……..
Elias: “He’s my little guy, my small tiny fellow, my little sopping wet kitten, he could be killed by a passing summer breeze, my most favorite employee, the most fragile traumatized little mind in reach, he’s never done anything wrong in his entire life, he’s the coughing baby to my hydrogen bomb, the sickly Victorian child to my plague, my little discord kitten, my blorbo whom I must put through the horrors, he’s never had a day of rest in his life and if it was any other way I would be miserable, he’s a stress ball to me, my little archivist must be put in Situations so I may thrive off his suffering and moral confusion. He is a dark mirror to my brilliance, cut of identical cloth but the very model of weak qualities I left behind, the becoming and undoing of my being and my most precious arbiter of fear in 200 years.”
Jon: “Elias, the mannequins wanted to skin me, I’m scared.”
