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Interdimensional Discord Hell

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Normally, Jon doesn't use technology that often beyond...Well. His job. He doesn’t have any close friends outside of work (or inside work, for that matter) and has a grand total of... four barely used contacts on his phone. 

 

However. 

 

Jon made the account on impulse. He doesn’t particularly care about having a Discord account, or even social media in general, but Tim was insistent on them making one for an “archives server”. Whatever that means. 

 

He hasn’t even bothered to change his username yet since Tim helped them set it up. Luckily he had the foresight to keep his assistants from giving him a truly awful name. “JonS” may be a bit boring but it fits his purposes.

 

They had joined the second server mostly on accident. They’d clicked on the link due to a mix of sleep deprivation and gnawing curiosity that came with the ominous text, and panicked when people greeted them. At this point, it’d be awkward for them to leave. 

 

A notification pops up at the top of his phone screen while he’s checking the time after a statement recording. 

 

Ahh. 

 

Martin got attacked by worms. 

 

Right. 

 

—————

 

JonS: Hey I know I’m new but my coworker just got traumatized by worms, advice?

 

elmo arson: damn ok irl jonathan sims

 

kermit: Ok irl jonathan sims

 

—————

 



What.

 

—————

 

JonS: Yes, that is my name?

 

elmo arson: fr???

 

kermit: Deadass?

 

door wife: Ok kinnie 🙄

 

JonS: Is there another Jonathan Sims I’m not aware of?

 

ratatouille musical: I mean ig it’s a pretty common name...I think? idk british people aren’t real so who knows

 

elmo arson: jonathan sims. yknow like, the protagonist of The magnus archives, a podcast distributed by rusty quill?

 

kermit: Jonathan Pogchamp Sims

 

JonS: How do you know my full name?????

 

door wife: BAHAHAHSHSHSHS epic trans moment ...or I think? Idk I’m not assuming anything but litreally nobody in this server is cis and I’m kicking you out if you are /j

 

JonS: Trans rights then, but only for me. /j

JonS: Also, I’m British?

 

ratatouille musical: YOU ARE??? EHDHDBHSS 

ratatouille musical: that’s it, I’m banning you from this server @/mods /j 

 

kermit: [Points gun at you] some crimes can never be forgiven…. /j

 

door wife: British people??? Like from the magnus archives??

 

JonS: i-

 

elmo arson has changed JonS’s name to brit boi!

 

brit boi: why?

 

elmo arson: why not brit boi

 

brit boi: Out of all the things I’ve been attacked for, this is the first time it’s for being British.

brit boi: Also, the Magnus Archives? I. Work there?

 

kermit: Oi its chewsday innit

 

brit boi: I despise you.

 

elmo arson: wait. wait wait wait wait. 

elmo arson: YOU WORK AT THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES??? NO SHIT?

 

kermit: I mean, I would be surprised if there was another archive called the magnus archives if the bullshit land of brittan really exists, but have you checked what server you’re in?

 

brit boi: ......Actually, no,,

brit boi: ahh,,, excuse me i have to go iron my door-

 

ratatouille musical: HEY, no no, come back here young man

ratatouille musical: actually, what are your pronouns? 

 

brit boi: he/they

 

door wife: OH THANK G-D YOU ARENT CIS,,HE/THEY PRONOUNS S L A P(I use all pronouns btw <3 )

 

elmo arson: FINALLY GOT US ONE OF THOSE HE/THEYS EVERYONE BEEN TALKING ABOUT 

 

brit boi: ...huh. didn’t expect you to be so...enthusiastic? about my pronouns 

 

kermit: Pronouns are hella

kermit: N e ways

kermit: whAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WORK FOR THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE AND DIDNT KNOW THE NAME OF THIS SERVER

 

brit boi: uhm. Well. An unknown number sent me the link,

 

door wife: And you just clicked on it???

 

brit boi: ...Maybe.

 

elmo arson: sir your self preservation skills really need to be worked on 

[👆3] 

 

kermit: Jon. 

 

brit boi: ...yes?

 

kermit: When was the last time you slept?

 

brit boi: I plead the fifth?

 

kermit: Youre british

 

elmo arson: for now 

 

door wife: ominous

 

brit boi: Ok look. I’ve been...busy.

 

kermit: So that’s why you can’t remember the last time you slept?

 

brit boi: I didn’t say that! Two days ago I...slept.

 

kermit: For how long?

 

brit boi: ...

 

brit boi is now offline!

 

kermit: Coward

 

—————

 

Jon sets his phone down on his desk. That’s enough of that app for the day.

 

Martin knocks on the doorframe, reminding Jon that he forgot to get advice on the worms. Shit. 

 

—————

 

door wife: And thats how me and hildegaard got banned from every walmart within 50 miles of us

 

elmo arson: yea they were pissed at us

 

brit boi: Not to derail, but I really do need advice on what to do for my coworker.

 

ratatouille musical: wait i thought that was a joke

 

brit boi: I assure you, it’s very much not.

 

elmo arson: you didnt rly tell us much about the situation so idk what to say

[👆2] 

 

door wife: Shower them with love and care and tell them it’s going to be alright?? hold their face tenderly and homorotically in your hands as you two realize you touch starved you really are?

door wife:,,,I rly need to get a partner huh 

 

elmo arson: or that

 

ratatouille musical: let me guess, your co-worker is named martin? /j

 

 

————-

 

Again.

 

What.

 

It’s very possible they were referring to a different Martin, however. It’s not like Martin is an uncommon name or anything. Maybe it’s an inside joke the server has?

 

————

 

brit boi: Ha ha, very funny.

 

ratatouille musical: wait i was joking is ur coworker really named martin?????

 

brit boi: I don't know, why don't my stalkers (you) tell me?

 

door wife: Youch that hurts man

door wife: How would we stalk you anyway, we're all in the US

 

brit boi: sus

 

kermit: Says the man who joined the server after getting the link from an unkniwn number

kermit: *unknown 

 

brit boi: You've got me there!

brit boi: Okay, but why did you all just accept me showing up out of the blue?

 

elmo arson: curiosity mostly

 

ratatouille musical: i wanted to see where itd go

 

————

 

"Um, Jon?" Martin quietly asks.

 

Jon snaps their head up from where he’s furiously pouting at his phone. 

 

Ah. Right.

 

"Right, yes. Sorry for the delay, Martin. I can’t offer much in the way of help, but yes, there is a cot in document storage and a functioning shower in artifact storage. I can clear you staying here with Mr. Bouchard right now," he says in a clipped tone.

 

Martin brightens up, not by much, but enough.

 

"Oh, thank you Jon! I-I don't want to go back to my flat, for obvious reasons and I have nowhere else to go. So, thank you for this. Really!"

 

Jon awkwardly coughs and stands up as he rearranges things on his desk.

 

"Yes, well, it's the least I can do. I can’t have my assistants turning in subpar follow-up due to deranged women with nasty parasites."

 

He hastily collects everything he needs and piles it into his bag. 

 

"If you'd follow me, I believe Elias is still in his office. We can explain the situation to him. If he doesn't let you stay here, I, ahh, I have a spare room you can use."

 

Martin makes a small noise, a squeak or something, he can't tell, it's too quiet for him to hear.

 

"That's very sw- that's very kind of you, Jon. Although I’m sure that Mr. Bouchard will let me stay here. Not that I think your offer is bad or anything... I'm sorry that came out wrong!"

 

Jon huffs and rolls his eyes.

 

"It's fine, Martin. No offense taken."

 

The pair devolve into silence. There's still a bit longer before they can reach Elias' office on the top floor. Especially since they're coming from the sub-basement that holds the archives and artifact storage. Curse Jonah Magnus for shoddy building design. 

 

(Not that far away, Elias Bouchard sneezes.)

 

Jon slips his phone out of the bag he slung over his shoulder and checks it. They blanche at the sheer amount of notifications from the Discord app alone.

 

How…?

 

————

 

ratatouille musical: and thats how i technically became a cult leader at age 10

 

brit boi: holy hell i leave for ten minutes to help my coworker get settled and find a place to stay while his apartments fumigated and you fucks think sending over 500 messages is a good idea?!?!

 

elmo arson: in our defense-

elmo arson: you left very suddenly and we overreacted 

 

————

 

Jon narrows his eyes and scrolls up to when he last left a message.

 

————

 

door wife: HELLO? JON POGCHAMP SIMS?

 

elmo arson: oh my fucking god hes fucking dead

 

kermit: I hope they didnt die they’re pretty funny for someone with a stick up their ass

 

————

 

Okay. Rude.

 

He scoffs and doesn't bother to continue reading. That's for when he eats dinner later.

 

————

 

brit boi: really feeling the love in you guys tonight

 

elmo arson: oh ur finally dropping the formality? good this server is a no bougie bitches zone

 

kermit: Yeah no nerds aloud in this hellhole of a server 

 

brit boi: i despise you

brit boi: /j

 

elmo arson: and yet. you havent gone back to texting like youre writing your boss an email 

 

brit boi: id never write that bastard an email

brit boi: he doesnt get that level of protection

brit boi: either he fires me or i annoy him in his stupid victorian office on the top floor

 

ratatouille musical: hell yea comrade jon rise up

 

brit boi: you say that but-

brit boi: есть богатых 

brit boi: (that means eat the rich for those of you who dont want to look it up)

 

ratatouille musical: OH SHIT HELL YEA COMRADE JON RISE UP

 

door wife: Lol did you google translate that?

 

brit boi: no, actually, i memorized it in uni 

 

————

 

Noticing that they're at the top floor and rapidly approaching Elias' office, he turns his phone off and slips it back into his bag.

 

"Right. Let's get this over with."

 

Jon strides forward and sharply raps on the door. A quiet 'enter' can be heard through the solid wood. God, everything about this office is pretentious, even the door. (Seriously though, what’s up with all those damned eyes? It’s almost creepy. Almost.)

 

Jon opens the door and walks through, leaving it open as Martin goes through. Elias is smiling genially at them from behind his stupidly pretentious desk.

 

"Good evening, Mr. Bouchard."

 

Jon tried his best to smile back at Elias but all that came of it was a weird grimace.

 

"Was there something you and your assistant needed, Jonathan?" Elias asks, eyes knowing.

 

Martin shuffles a bit from behind Jon.

 

"Yes, well, Martin had a hostile encounter with some... bugs relating to Jane Prentiss. He doesn’t feel comfortable staying at his flat because of it and I wanted to offer the archives as a spot for him since there's a cot in document storage."

 

"Well, that's certainly a request. Give me a moment to think about it."

 

Elias hums slightly as he looks down at the papers on his desk. He closes his eyes then looks back up at Jon.

 

"I'm afraid that I can't allow Martin to temporarily live in the archives. Not that I don't want to ensure his safety, nothing of that sort! It's just a fire hazard and I don't want to potentially endanger your life, Martin." 

 

(Elias sort of looks like he’s holding back a smirk, but that’s probably just Jon’s imagination.)

 

Jon glowers at Elias but nods.

 

"Thank you for considering it anyway. Have a good night sir. Come on Martin," he grunts as he turns on his heel and walks out.

 

Jon doesn't bother to check behind as he knows Martin is following him. He cuts a clean path down the stairs to the ground floor of the institute.

 

"I guess I should start looking for a place to stay then, since the archives are out and all," Martin says.

 

Jon hums.

 

"Do you have a dufflebag of clothes and toiletries?"

 

Martin stumbles a bit behind him.

 

"Yes I-yes I do. Why?"

 

"Is it in the archives?"

 

"No, I've got it with me right now. Why?"

 

"Ahh, my mistake, didn't notice."

 

Jon ignores Martin's questions as he leads him out of the institute and onto the sidewalk.

 

"Where are we going, Jon?"

 

Jon looks over his shoulder at Martin, raising one eyebrow.

 

"My flat? Keep up, Martin. The train's due to leave soon if we don't hurry."

 

"You were serious?! I thought you were joking or something about that!"

 

Jon actually stops walking and turns towards Martin. 

 

"I don't joke about the safety of my coworkers. Now come on, we have ten minutes to get to the station before the train leaves. I rather don’t like walking home."


Martin squeaks, or... whatever that noise was, and quickens his pace to be in step with Jon.