Tim was sitting at a table in some quiet diner across from an avatar that could most definitely kill him on a whim, trying to put on a face like a Badass-Gertrude-Type-Archivist and not a Desperately-Needs-Your-Help-Type-Archivist. He could do this. He fought off Jane Prentiss with a fire extinguisher. He killed Jared Hopworth all on his own. He stopped The Unknowing. This is nothing.

Tim really needed you to cooperate. With the explosion from preventing the Unknowing giving him not only nasty burn scars, but a six month medically impossible goddamn coma, he had a lot to catch up on. It was the Archivist's job, after all.

He absentmindedly picked at a scab on his arm while he stared at you with those piercing green 'tell me all your secrets' eyes. His eyes hasn't been green before the coma. What part of being an avatar of The Eye involved having green fucking eyes? He'd ask Elias, but he couldn't stand another second of listening to that smug shithead.

"So... you're gonna tell me about whatever... ritual stuff you and your type is doing. And not kill me, or throw me in The Lonely, or steal my skin, or strike me with lightning, or any of that shit. Or I'll go all 'Die Hard' on you."

He could not, in fact, "go all 'Die Hard' on you". But you hopefully didn't know that.

"Now," he started, going eerily still for a few moments, "Let's start from the beginning."