Chapter Text
Jonah's background check on Elias would put every government agency to shame, as not only did Jonah scroll down to the very end of Elias' posts on every piece of social media Elias inhabited, Jonah was also a very loyal avatar of the Eye, in which he took great pride and little restrictions.
Elias was... okay. It seemed that the pros and cons of the man were in a very mediocre equilibrium. Jonah would've waited longer but James Wright was a candle that couldn't burn forever, and it was time to transfer the flame. So, all's to say, Jonah did know about the marijuana habits. He'd signed up for this. And when a few weeks later Jonah finds his already limited need for food further diminishing, coupled with a snappiness he's trying very hard to keep in check, he knows it's the cusp of withdrawal. Theoretically, he could wait it out. He's experienced worse discomfort, inconvenience, and pain in his centuries of braving the horrid scape of human suffering. And yet, there are fifty other things that drag his shoulders down at the end of the day like routine shackles, alas the whole business of transferring institute ownership and politely exiting the lives of everyone Elias was friends with (too many people yet, coincidentally, no family).
So Jonah acquires weed and holes up in his new, already meticulously personalized apartment on a weekend. He's been drugged in vessels before, albeit usually not with his own hands or on his own volition, and Jonah can swear up and down on every corpse he's left behind that not once, under the influence of drugs, had the owner of said vessel reared his ugly head in blind, ever consuming panic.
Elias, the real Elias, is sightless but still very much there. Jonah lowers the blunt as his head erupts in whining pain and a stream of blabbering. He doesn't take a second hit and Elias soon fades. Interesting.
Jonah does not have great impulse control when it comes to 'interesting'. So Jonah waits for the high to wear off, subsequently losing the company of Elias within their apparently shared brain-space. When Jonah relights the blunt and takes another pull, there's the adrenaline of having your life stolen from you all over again, rushing into his system along with the endorphins of a satiated craving. This time, Jonah keeps smoking, bearing the onslaught of what used to be Elias Bouchard propelling pieces of thoughts and fears at him. It's far less pleasant than Jonah had originally planned to get for the evening, but when Elias reaches a tangent of panic with center focus on eyes - and, well, eye-gouging - Jonah can at least feed off the phobia for a few rather rewarding moments. And so it goes.
There are bad days and there are bad weeks, where attempts are made at Jonah's life with more vigor than a usual workday would provide, and so he'll find himself lighting up in his apartment and opening the floodgates to Elias' unfortunate but intrinsic existence. Over the course of a very long, very tedious year, the customary blabber and uncoordinated jumble of thought evens out, smooths down, and contrary to Jonah's expectations, calms. The shards of consciousness that reach Jonah are still far from cohesive or connected, but they lose that sharp adrenaline pang to them, dipping more into general confusion. It's not too different from the hurt and confused stare a puppy may give after being kicked... Elias doesn't understand, Jonah thinks, doesn't understand what the hell happened... It's amusing. He takes week-long breaks between each session of weed but the high and the vivid emotional outlet of Elias' prolonged suffering in the non-afterlife purgatory of riding backseat in his own body, well, it's consistently satisfying.
And then it's already two years later and Jonah has Elias' life under very good control, with no more unneeded 'friends' and no more of Elias' horrible, badly color-matched belongings and no more college debt or accessible social media history. And Elias is starting to be... coherent? That can't be right. Jonah's been too busy with everyday things and with counteracting Gertrude's very pointed jabs at his unraveling, but it's nothing too bad to warrant much need for a good smoke. So it's a while before he gets to hear from Elias again- but when he does, what fades into his world with every puff of smoke isn't the conceptual terror of what's been done, but rather, for the first time, words. It almost sounds like someone's in the room with him - albeit there's reverb on it and a great deal of echo, but nonetheless: Elias speaks.
Jonah sits back and listens, a bit miffed at the development and what it could potentially imply in the decades he'd planned to keep this vessel for. The longer Elias' voice rings in his ears though the more it becomes clear that nothing much understandable will come from this. For now.
It's a whole soup of repeated 'me's and 'I am's and a few 'who?'s. Jonah will one day meet something similar in what will come of Michael Shelley, but that is almost a decade off. For now, Elias is a broken record of existential self-identity- one that, Jonah admits, had been hell to inhabit. Yet, everything's an improvement from the headache that Elias' panic used to be - no matter how much that could've fed the God that Jonah bows alongside.
This goes on for years. If Jonah was any less timeless, he might've missed the gradual shift in Elias' prematurely inconsistent stream of words unto a slightly more well-spun thought process. But Jonah's been around, and two years don't feel like long enough to lose yourself in. So he notices. Notices that he can begin piecing together whatever the hell Elias must be... experiencing? at the same time as Jonah goes through his day. He becomes aware that Elias is much like a constant radio commentary on Jonah's piloting of his body, one that he just has on mute at all times aside from weekends when weed seems like a good indulgence.
Jonah remembers pulling a calf muscle that he knows Elias had pulled not a year before being removed from main access control to the body. And then the next time he gets high, there's an underlying theme of 'leg hurts, compress' and 'careful because again' and 'chances of injury' floating under the standard pain of isolation within one's own head. There's less echo now, less overlapping words and phrases, and it's like listening to someone read a scrambled sentence right inside your head. It's like a soap opera Jonah can occasionally tune in to without any fear of missing plot: it's all the same.
And then, as the century ends and there are fireworks in the sky and the Archives are closed for New Year's, a new era of the 2000s barreling around the corner, Jonah watches the sky erupt with color exactly as the clock hits midnight. He's sitting in his apartment by the floor to ceiling windows and methodically flicking his lighter, even though the joint is already lit and he's several drags into a good, peaceful high. And that is when Elias intones his first coherent sentence:
Why do you do this?
Jonah is ready to write it off as lucky coincidence of words, but after a long silence, it comes again. This time, much more damning than pure chance would let happen:
Why do you do this, James. Jonah.
It is... oh it could be 'startling' or 'disconcerting' but really, watching the afterimage of fireworks dance across the now dark sky, Jonah can only pin it as, once more, 'interesting'. Interesting that Elias had caught his real name even though not once had it been uttered. Interesting that whatever fragments of a mind are knocking around behind the eyes, they are capable of formulating and relaying a question. Twice. With intent. Jonah doesn't answer and snuffs the slow orange amber of his blunt.
This only escalates.
The next time Jonah smokes, Elias is right back, there in his head, speaking the same way Jonah now sounds, but the intonation is all different, scared. Jonah has never sounded sincerely scared and it's unpleasant to hear such fear in a voice he now possesses. Elias now makes sentences, sometimes at nothing and sometimes at Jonah. Accusations, pleas. Once or twice he promises Jonah everything and anything if only Jonah is to let him go. Classic. Jonah smokes, snuffs the blunt, and goes on with his day.
Years. Years, and the novelty of Elias' presence loses its appeal. Jonah still doesn't know why Elias, out of all his previous vessels, is the one that's stayed, doesn't know why coming in contact with weed is what brings him to the forefront of brain activity. He'd like to avoid this in later body hops but hopes he won't have to, if his ritual comes to a satisfying victory and he ascends, what need will there be for some lowly human drug? And therefore, what business will Elias have, existing where Jonah can hear him?
A decade later and Gertrude has finally tested his patience enough times to find its breaking point. Jonah can still feel the punchback of the firearm against his hand, deep in his bones. He drains the petrol and closes the tunnels down. He comes home feeling buzzed on the rare self-induced adrenaline and crashes into his couch. Long time coming, this killing of what all feared, yet this will mean his own ritual must happen faster. The news of Gertrude's death will spread. The other avatars will come crawling out of their fortified ditches. Gertrude had provided him relative safety from the elements but had rained the same scrutiny and general inconvenience on Jonah nonetheless. So he smokes once more. This time Elias is quiet until minutes in.
Who did you kill?
Was that Gertrude?
You killed Gertrude.
You killed Gertrude.
Jonah sits back and thinks, to hells with it.
"I did."
Why?
Oh. Oh okay, I see. There's a pause there and Jonah reels from the uncomfortable implication that Elias can somehow osmosis Jonah's thoughts. I technically don't... See.. anything, but I see why.
"Do you, now?" Jonah smiles.
Don't smile, you do it wrong.
"Thought you couldn't see. How do you know I'm smiling?"
Can feel. You do it wrong.... I never smiled like that. Ugly.
Jonah sighs, he'd gotten rid of most of Elias' pictures, because really there is a damning difference in their stature and faces if seen side by side. Elias was just so sickeningly sincere. Jonah wonders how he made it to this age.
"If anything, I believe that grinning with all your teeth is not a good smiling tactic." Jonah reasons, as while Elias does have rather nice, celebrity even, teeth, Jonah is a person of close-lipped smiles.
Wrong, you must look like some uptight victorian bitch. Wait you are....
"I'm putting the smoke out and then I am never talking to you again."
Sure, go on killing Gertrude and other employees and good luck never finding out what I kee...
Jonah sits in the silence and wonders if Elias faded away for dramatic effect or for real. But god are both options bad... Suddenly Jonah really wants to know what Elias keeps and where and it's too vague to ask the Eye about because there's not a hint about where to start.
Jonah stays partially true to his promise. He doesn't smoke for a long time to come, instantly busy with formulating Jon's introduction to the Archives with maximum effect. But, as things go, not everything can be perfect. Tim and Sasha sneak weed into work. Jonah knows this, and it's not the first time. But between the last one and now, they've befriended Martin enough to invite him too, locking themselves into the staff room... Jonah Knows exactly when they realize that the staff room shares a vent system with Elias' office and decide to try and hotbox their boss. Jonah also knows that it's difficult at best to get high from proximity-smoke, and so there's little chance Elias will fade back into auditory existence.... Except his staff is adamant to inconvenience him and so Jonah begins to smell the faint whiff of smoke. It won't get him high but boy does it - for some unfortunate reason - faintly bring Elias into Jonah's life.
Glad that the new staff hates you as much as my coworkers did...
Jonah thinks about not replying. Continues working.
Nice laptop, fucker.
"You know, I preferred you crippled with mortal fear and not like some cocky commentator on my activities."
I'll disagree. It's fun having a stable train of thought again. You know you're so boring?
Jonah sighs and sits back, "What do you want? What have I done to deserve such slander?"
I'm pretty sure you gutted my eyes... The slight echo latches onto 'eyes' and knocks the word around Jonah's head for a while. Why me? Was I just that hot? Mr. James Wright.... You old twink... What's it like to have a YOUNG good body again?
Elias' bitterness seems to have replaced his anger- or rather had taken the torch for fueling Elias' ranting. The words are laced with hatred, but it seems that he's... adapted? Jonah doesn't have an opinion on this at the moment.
"You're short."
Oh boo fucking HOO, I'm not. YOU are now, I'm just dead.... Fucker.
Jonah gets up and goes out of his office to rattle around the Archives in hopes of scaring the crew back to their workplace. He wonders if Elias is brought on by the act of being high or by the mere mention of weed, the latter of which would be rather laughable... the accidental ghost that's sole last connection to the world is weed... distasteful. That and he's stuck ultimately in Jonah's mind- or maybe it really IS a ghost, huh. Just a ghost that's chosen to follow Jonah out of pettiness or some kind of resilient ties... He has to find out. He has to know. Yet at the same time he doubts Elias' affinity to being cooperative will hold up if asked questions... He needs to turn the odds slightly in his own favor... Needs to ensure the least amount of hatred in the prior inhabitant of Mr. Elias Bouchard, the body.
So Jonah is on his best behavior for weeks (or well, best behavior in Elias' eyes probably and hopefully). He tries to keep the reminders that he's an avatar of an endless fear entity to a minimum, doesn't terrorize his employees more than necessary... And at the end of the week, he transfers a few thousand pounds to an eye-surgery clinic out of the Lukas pocket - mostly to annoy the Lukases but also to potentially butter up Elias. So when he lights up and takes his first pull and is immediately onslaughted with a very calm
Smarmy bastard. Little fucker. Bullshit avatar.
It's quite the surprise and an exceptional letdown.
"Okay, what now?"
We're sitting in the same car, I can hear what music you're playing even if I'm not in the driver's seat, idiot. Doing good things with bad motivations... I can see all that.
Jonah sighs: thought-osmosis it is.
"Would you prefer bad actions with bad motivations? You understand so little... Need not stick your nose where it doesn't belong. I'm not too pleased with your company as it is, I doubt you want to aggravate that with slander."
Or what? You'll poke my EYES out a SECOND time? Tough luck, I'm fucking safe all up here in the impeccably lonely, great vast darkness of non-afterlife. Sitting here as some stranger pirates my life, slowly spiraling it into rich-man snobbery, all-white tile floors and corrupt morals, impersonating the government, capitalism in the flesh right here! Give this avatar a medal!
"Elias-"
Oh? Oh I'm Elias now? You've buried me well enough, burned down everything I was, killed and slaughtered me and now you're making me watch the suffering of others with no end in sight? Make me follow you through your day as you hunt down innocent people and tangle them into your web of lies so that one day they will serve a PURPOSE? You can't cause me more pain, JONAH, you can't do shit!
Jonah sits on his couch, both a little stunned and - against all judgment - rather impressed. The happy-go-lucky, wear-mismatched-socks-to-work human he'd rather effectively overwritten the life of had just fit a mention - if not the name - of every single fear entity into a rather concise rant. A rather... effective way to demonstrate his situational awareness, he'll give him that.
"How long have you been practicing that?"
None of your business.
Jonah smiles, "Hm, rather well done. You must have a lot of free time."
You still smile wrong. And yes I do, you don't smoke often enough.
"Mm, I rather like polite smiles, they invite people into conversation less. Anywho, I'm here to ask some questions."
I know.
And no, I won't be answering.
"You are very... difficult for someone who does not exist. For all I know, this brain could be defective and you are biologically prone to auditory hallucinations. What about a compromise."
What can you even offer me?
"I was going to ask you that." Jonah smiles, "I am your only outlet into the world and I suppose, therefore, I hold the most power over your 'life' now."
Elias is silent for a while and Jonah takes a few drags.
Hm. For every question, a favor.
"No. For every ten questions."
Every two.
"Every eight."
You are somehow worse than you were as my boss. Every five.
"Deal. Except the favors cannot inhibit my greater plans."
Whatever. Ask.
"What is your situation like right now. You must imagine, I am awfully curious."
Blank nothingness but I hear and feel everything you do. I suppose if your body-hop ritual focused around removing ears, I'd still see and feel, yet not hear. Rather bleak, like a sad rich-serial-killer podcast.
"My life is not bleak."
As someone who gets to experience it in real-time, I would like to disagree. Next.
Jonah sighs and closes his eyes, "What about my thoughts. You seem to know things I don't verbalize."
Real fucking sadly I do. When you're not talking or whatever, I get like a... um. Seeping? Like your opinions seep into my periphery and shit. I hate it, keep your shit to yourself.
"Hm, intriguing. Do you choose to talk only when I'm exposed to marijuana or is it involuntary?"
The latter. I talk all the time. Was testing if you were just ignoring me or couldn't hear at all recently. Apparently you really can't hear.
Jonah perks up, "Oh? And how so was the testing?"
Was saying some stuff.
"I see you're trying to pull extra questions out of me, what a tragic attempt. What do you do when I sleep?"
You certainly don't do enough of it, is what. I usually slip into something like sleep too. Your dreams are fucking wild though.
Jonah nods, happy that Elias chose to be, while bitter, rather cooperative.
Damn right I did.
"Don't invade my thoughts, human boy."
Don't manspread your brain cells, victorian FUCKER.
"I will quit smoking right now and go stand on the balcony to air out."
Oh right, about the favor. Elias immediately changes tonality, I've got a good one.
Jonah remains silent waiting.
Smoke more often.
"Excuse me?"
Oh I know you heard that, I can practically feel your brain making the connections- oh, sorry, MY brain.
Smoke more often, talk to me more often. I fucking despise you but I get at least a little bittle of comfort from talking to someone, not at a blank darkness. Careful I don't align myself to the End.
"I would prefer if you didn't learn any more entity-related terminology from whatever it is you 'seep' in." Jonah, despite his threats, does not stub the smoke, "And I doubt you can redeem yourself in an entity's eyes if you do not exist."
I sure as hell exist to you, you motherfucker. And I'm about to more often too, now that you're obligated to talk to me.
"Sure," says Jonah and doesn't even look at weed for the next two weeks.
When he finally does, Elias is fuming.
I thought we had an agreement.
"Hello to you too. And yes, we still do have a deal. This is, compared to my other month-long breaks, 'more often'."
Elias doesn't give him a response and instead throws over a few disjointed pieces of anger and betrayal.
"You know I'm right, or is time subjective there?"
I sure as hell hear your alarm routinely, so no. Who changes their alarm sounds to air-siren blaring, I don't understand you.
"And you shouldn't." Jonah relaxes into his black leather loveseat, enjoying the rare weekend he won't need to do as much, now that Jon is safely on the route of becoming what Gertrude wouldn't and Sasha is finally out of his hair.
Okay, well, I suppose you're here with more questions. Nosy bitch.
"I'd like to remind you that your ultimate demise was hearing your boss say 'let me show you something' and following him into a maze of tunnels. Between the two of us, you are not free of curiosity."
Cool, fine, curiosity killed the cat, we get it. Watch out though, now that I'm gone, you're next on the list.
"Oh? I'm very scared, someone will finally make it through and take me out, how tragic..."
I'm the one with limited omniscience here, I wouldn't know. And were you always such a bitch to your employees? I'm starting to believe we got lucky with James Wright.
"They're just... More difficult with Gertrude gone. There's always someone you need to be afraid of." Jonah chuckles to himself, "And I do need to compensate for my new rather.. frattish physiology."
Still think you should smile better. Try, come one, try now. You are my only entertainment.
Jonah sighs - which seems to be a new habit in Elias' rather demanding company, "What are you getting out of this?"
The nostalgia of feeling my face muscles be attractive. I don't know! What do you want, you emotionless bastard... Yes I hear you going 'oh I need to make this smile perfectly cold, yes, that is what the situation calls for'. OKAY we get it, you're playing people... God.
"Will you shut up?" Jonah smooths his hand down his face, then lazily picks himself up and walks to the bathroom mirror. Jonah knows what Elias used to smile like - visually, that is. "Here."
He attempts to replicate it, cringing partially at the way it looks to do.
Wrong. Your eyes probably look dead. Hah. Topical.
Elias isn't wrong. Jonah purposefully squints them a little. He leans on the sink heavily, letting his arms hold him up. It's been a long week but he's made a lot of progress, can practically feel the Watcher's Crown falling together and into order.
He notices Elias hasn't said much. Takes another drag just in case he's faded out.
"Hm, has the 'nostalgia' left you incapacitated?"
I'm not sure. I'm not sure I like it. Not when you do it.
Jonah lets the grin transition into a full-teeth smirk of sorts. It doesn't look friendly. Maybe he'll keep it. Maybe it'll put enough distance between the new boss 'Bouchard' and the old boss 'Wright' that no one will ever put his identity in danger.
Oh, don't like having your identity in danger, do you? Dumbass avatar.
Jonah drops the smile all together and pinches himself, "Don't get cocky." He leaves the bathroom and resumes his position in the chair, noting to dust his shirt off later from the ash. "I have more to ask. A while ago you mentioned I'd never find out what you keep and where, and then you did not finish your sentence. I would like to know."
Oh. I don't remember.
The fast flippancy he says it with rather obviously betrays the contrary, but when Jonah attempts to behold the contents of the lost phrase, he is once again left unsatisfied and with no answers. It's been bothering him for so long, he's loath to admit it.
"If you tell me, I'll do an additional favor." He's rather certain that not only can Elias barely impact his life and plans, Jonah can also easily shoot down any potential meddling, as, after all, Elias is simply an observer - and one that is usually silent - in Jonah's life. No control of the body, no access to Jonah's consciousness unless Jonah personally chooses to smoke. A rather powerful position to uphold. Little to endanger it.
Oh? I was going to say I kept something secret under my mattress.
Jonah immediately feels some of the pleasant buzz of weed wear off. "The bloody... the bong. There was a bong under your mattress. That's what you.. That's what you were going to use as a playing chip against me?"
Oh, so you found it. And, ha, it worked...
"Only because you faded out with good timing. Don't flatter yourself."
Well, whatever the culprit, my additional favor is that you find a way to have me audibly with you for a month, in a row.
"No. Hands down, you have not provided me with anything but suffering and annoyance. I veto your involvement in my every-day activities."
Fine, three days.
Jonah realizes he's been... rather played. Right, the classic 'make a hugely uncomfortable offer and then knock it down to what you originally planned'. He sighs yet again. "I suppose so."
Within the next two weeks.
"Noted." Jonah will need to better consider what other stipulations Elias can have on his life. Yet, with everything else going on, he'd had limited concern to spare Elias much consideration. So the next time his schedule clears up, Jonah, rather begrudgingly, puts a small parcel of weed in his sleeve, secures it to prevent any incidents he might need to explain in front of his employees, and heads off to work. Periodically smelling the sleeve seems to keep Elias present. Not a convenient way out, but better than trusting himself to be high for three whole workdays.
Oh, you actually did it.
Kudos from me, I'll just revel in knowing you can hear me.
Wait can you?
Jonah nods, rather averse to talking to himself in a cab like some lunatic.
Ah, social convention... How I miss that. Well! Thanks for tuning in to Elias Bouchard radio, voiced by Elias Bouchard for a sole audience of one Elias Bouchard! He drops the show-host voice, I'll have you know I start every morning like this, but now it's gotten a rather interesting new piece of context, as you are my sole audience and are also ALLEGEDLY, Elias Bouchard.
Jonah sighs and hopes the cab ride will take shorter than usual so he can be out of it and in his office, safely able to reply to Elias and berate him on the already grating commentary.
Damn you really do hate me, old man. I can TASTE that disdain, wow, I'm kind of sad you can't feel my vibes right back cause then you'd have to live with all this hatred too. Cest la vie, yes? Cest la body-hopping nightmare.
Elias continues to spam Jonah's mind with irritating about-nothing speaking for the ten minutes it takes until they reach the Archives. The moment Jonah's out in the street he grumbles into his collar, "Will you keep it down? I do still have work to get done, be happy I've gotten the Bouchard family line a stable and respectable job. If not for your potential as a vessel, I would have fired you a long time ago."
I don't see how anything's changed. Elias Bouchard still works at the same institute, still smokes pot, and still DOES NOT have any BoUcHarD FaMilY liNe to make proud.
"I know. You think I'd take your body if you had helicopter parents? Of course not. Your family history, or lack of one, was a big pro in making the choice."
You said 'take my body', ha.
"You dirty-minded bastard," Jonah sighs in the elevator, "Anyhow, don't make my day too difficult or I'll put on music you don't like. Or make you feel what it's like to strangle a puppy."
There's a long silence.
You wouldn't
Fuck. Jonah. Jonah you wouldn't.
It's weird to have someone call him that. Even other avatars stick with his vessel's name more often than not, as he does with theirs... And Elias blissfully does tone it down, retreating to float around and periodically crack jokes at Jonah - most of which are at Jonah's unfortunate expense. But it's... Tolerable. Out of all the things Jonah has to consistently put up with, which include the periodical involvement of Jude Perry in his life, the need to be outwardly civil, Sasha's general energy, and, well, running an enterprise, then Elias' mental clownery that he projects right into Jonah's ears is of the least consequence.
Quick question, why do you wear such tall socks under your pants. No one will see how tall those socks are. Why not be a true man and not wear socks at all?
"What do you mean, you want me to come into the office wearing sandals?"
Oh, the loafers can stay. Just no socks.
Jonah finds that while Elias is not the worst kind of addition to his day, he certainly is a distracting one. Jonah sits back and looks at his shoes under the desk. "So you want me. To wear loafers with no socks."
Yeah show off those ankles.
"You do realize that if I do that, you, by extension, will have to feel it every step of the way?"
Elias somehow manages to project a laugh in the dark hellscape of his existence, and Jonah realizes once more that the auditory specter isn't being serious.
God, you're so easy to mess with, for an oldass motherfucker you're not too immune to trolling.
"Sure." Jonah goes back to poking at his emails and sifting through spam. Elias must be paying attention, as he shuts up - which is worrying - and Jonah tries to think as quietly as he can.
Wait did you know that you can like... Sort spam out of your mailbox?
"Hm?"
Like, make settings sort spam out so you don't have to read through herbal viagra commercials?
"As you may have noticed, Elias, I am much older than you can fathom existing for. I have learned a lot of things in the years and I have learned them well. Excuse me if I did not learn how to sort spam."
Elias is laughing again, okay, okay. Go to settings.
Jonah considers not collaborating or just nodding along and not actually doing shit - as it seems that Elias cannot see - but at the end of the day (every day, in fact) he does get a lot of spam mail. He also suspects half of it is from Sasha and Tim and their burner email accounts. And so he plays along, being extra certain to project a vague sense of upset in Elias' direction so he doesn't get too happy.
"You know, for someone who is a celestial murder victim, you are rather compliant."
If you are going to complain about my ghost-radio show in the morning, do not remark on my obedience in the afternoon.
Fuck that sounded metal as fuck.
Your fancy Shakespearean prose is rubbing off on me.
"Glad. Maybe you'll start sounding more your age and not like a child."
Cool, maybe I'll rub off on you too and you'll start using a laptop like someone who's in their twenties and not in their two-hundreds. I hate you. Mind you, I feel it every time you google what any slang word is.
"You cannot."
I know what the keyboard feels like, I can figure out what you're typing.
"I will stop smelling the weed and you will vanish and then I will look up something you hate and make you experience every bit of it."
Sure, sure, like there's something so bad out there it would make me shrivel up and begin fearing you again, Mr. Jonah Magnus who doesn't know what Crash Bandicoot is. Mr Jonah Magnus avatar of an all-knowing entity that needs to Google Crash Bandicoot.
Jonah morosely puts on the classic Apple alarm clock sound, 10 hour loop.
I don't like this.
Jonah, I don't like this.
Jonah, turn it off.
Jonah, turn it off I can't even wake up.
Jonah, this is going to wake me up so much I become alive again. I don't think you want that.
Jonah, turn it off, I'll teach you how to do formulas in Excel.
Jonah turns it off. They spend the rest of the day communicating back and forth with mild bitterness. Elias remarks on how this is rather similar to on-call computer techs who have to fix people's problems without seeing the screens. He also reasons that Jonah could just as easily look this up on YouTube, and then laughs at Jonah about how he probably CAN'T use YouTube. Jonah threatens turning the alarm sound on again and Elias peters down his golden comedic content. It's not the most productive day. There's two more ahead but Jonah reconciles that Excel formulas will - in the very very long run - cut down the amount of time he takes organizing everything. So it is partially worth it. Partially. He takes the cab home, which means that Elias once more gets free-reign of the mental soundscape. He abuses not any less than the morning.
So I'm gathering that you can know pretty much anything if you put your mind to it. This means you could easily play the stock market game at some amazing rates. That plus you're old as fuck and therefore know shit about history repeating itself, no? Well, either way, why make some rich family sugar daddy you when you could just like, own ALL money? Wild. Wait-
Elias goes quiet for a moment, which is deeply worrying for a forcibly silent Jonah.
Okay, so it looks like all your bodies so far have been fucking twinks. What is this. I hate learning information about you. What the fuck. Jonah. Jonah find a way to talk to me I need to know what the hell goes on in that old man noggin of yours. Jonah please. Was that another pro to picking me? That and my parents ghosting me for my entire life? Jonah. Jonah. Jonah I will begin reciting the Bee Movie if you do not find a way to talk, Jonah pull your phone out and pretend to reply, Jonah- according to all known laws of aviation there is no way a
"Hello?" Jonah has his phone by his ear in seconds, having started this conversation with limited knowledge on the Bee Movie and having beheld far too much about it in a very limited time. "Yes this is Elias Bouchard speaking."
Oh, smooth fucker. Making it sound all cool and real. Anyway. Dude do you have a body-type? Literally a type of body you usually go for?
"This was not my ideal choice, as I've mentioned the um, circumstances made me pick what I am stuck with now."
Stuck with... Stuck with... How rude. I go to a gym for years so some old crinkly man can steal this CATCH.
"It is a short one."
Sure, like high heels don't exist.
"That would not be... applicable for a workplace."
Are you saying there is something wrong with a guy wearing high heels? Are you homophobic, Jonah Magnus? I cannot believe I will be stuck with a homophobe for the rest of my life- this is followed by a rather... impressive audible keysmash from Elias' part. You're GAY? How did I not hear about this earlier, oh my GOD.
Jonah sighs, "My work is far more important, the rest is simply echos from my human upbringing." Jonah bites his tongue after that comes out of his mouth, realizing he is still in fact, inside a taxi, speaking on his phone. Scrambles for a quick save, "Yes write that down, that's what the, hm, character should say."
Sure, good luck sounding sane in a cab, wait I'm Beholding.
"You- you cannot, you aren't- um, you have not been hired by the... same boss as I am working for. You do not have those... Capabilities."
Whatever, it's a smack-ass phrase, I'm gonna steal it, who cares. Dude, no fucking way you're just 'echoes of an upbringing'. God, I was JOKING when I said sugar daddy- For real? Gold digger lookin ass, Mordechai... Peter Lukas.... Wow, whore. Wooing rich men for money, what is this, an episode of housewives?
"You are... sounding rather like what you accused me of being earlier."
As a member of the queer community, I get a pass on calling you a homophobe and a whore. God this is stellar fucking knowledge. Wear heels! Wear heels! Wear h
Elias begins fading out and Jonah would so gladly not sniff his sleeve, if not for the obligations of a deal. Elias fades back in.
eels. Wear heels. Literally wouldn't be out of character, you've been me for only a few years, it's fine. How have you not jumped at the opportunity to completely reinvent your personality? God, if I could bodyhop I'd be a whole different person every time just for the hells of it... I bet you know this but I have ear piercings and I don't remember you using them once. Buy earrings. Jonah. Jonah get out of the cab, buy earrings. Fuck, what is this, I have no clue what color suits you wear but I bet they're boring. Buy something colorful. Like, yellow.
"That's an atrocious choice. I will settle on a compromise if you never make me imagine wearing a yellow suit." Jonah gives up on good societal presentation and stops the cab, paying and getting out not far from a street of cafes and a few jewelry stores.
FUCK yeah! Shopping with the ladies on a Thursday afternoon.
"I'm glad you're having fun in purgatory."
Humans are great at adapting. Maybe my grief comes in the form of intense bullshit and also shopping for earrings with my former boss, who's also apparently a cult leader.
"The Institute is not a cult. It is a well-respected organization with a good track record." Jonah keeps the phone at his ear, so that at least the passerbies on a busy afternoon street don't pin him as insane. He enters the first store he sees to have earrings and on Elias' demand describes the majority of what he sees, touching some on very petulant demand as Elias needs to know the shape and texture. Jonah's planning to not actually buy any, as after the three days of Elias' company are up, he will never have to confront this again (hopefully), but then they get to the row with single earrings and not pairs. There's one that catches his attention and gets immediately approved by Elias on contact. While mildly on the nose, Jonah does purchase the single dangly earring with an eye on the end of a thin delicate chain. Elias rhapsodizes about getting his ears pierced in a high school bathroom as Jonah walks the last stretch home, feeling the rhythmic tap-tap of the earring against his neck as it sways with his steps. It's... novel. He's spent decades monologuing to himself in his head and sometimes under his breath, as when you're very old and one of the only rather SANE (thank you very much) avatars out there, you don't have much people to complain to about the tedious routines of humanity. And Elias' now unabashed vivid presence is very... different from that. His inability to escape Jonah and the situation he's in is also an added factor to how - while being entirely annoying, he is not a threat. So, as all things go, it's... Well, interesting.