Kageyama Shigeo (
centile) wrote in
deercountry2023-02-01 06:28 pm
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feb catchall with some open prompts
Who: mob and whoever!
What: february tdm prompts, other, just a general catchall
When: february and potentially onward
Where: around the trench
Content Warnings: none atm, to be added when relevant in threads.
gift giving, mostly for cr but open for all
[as a warmblood mob begins having the urge to give gifts. in truth this is seamless, easily picked up by his general wish to show appreciation for the people who have made this difficult situation better. it's one of the most valuable lessons he's learned, that he should be grateful for the people in his life, the ones who helped him grow and change. especially here, where it would have been easy to be alone.
so! gifts. anyone mob has cr with is fair game. if he'd know where they live he might leave them in their mailbox, at their door. it often won't come with any note but if it does it will be something simple, like 'i hope you like this' signed with his name.
he might seek the person out, bundled up in a sweater, jacket, scarf, gloves, muffled when he holds it out and says,] Here.
[anyone he met could get this treatment. people he hasn't met yet? also possible, if maybe they're sitting alone or just give off any air of being down. please feel free to bend the situation to anything needed.
the sort of things he might give away:
- any cool rock he just found, especially shiny ones
- any cool sea shell he found, again bonus points for shiny
- a little plant in a little pot, usually something simple that could be found around, herb or flower or fern
- a misshapen bonsai. he's still learning, okay
- scarves or mitten gloves, usually very ugly and bulky
- any of the chocolatier's chocolates. (note, none of the horny/romantics ones eaten around him, but feel free to take it and use it later if you want)
- wildcard of some odd thing he may have found in a shop or on the far shore. a brooch? a gear? etc, sky's the limit go nuts.]
chocolates, open to all
[the chocolatier doesn't seem to bother mob much. most things don't so this isn't surprising. the state of it's soul is a whole can of worms but anyone is free to see him talking to the creature at one point or the other, seemingly nonplussed as he allows it a few drops of his blood and is gifted chocolate in return.
he'll examine one before popping it into his mouth-
if it's caramel he'll blink, and the first person he sees he'll just... start following. this gives the mixed impression of being imprinted on by a baby duck but also one of those spooky, quiet kids you don't hear coming and is just there when you turn around.
does it look like there's snow in your way? he quickly lifts a hand to push it out of the way with a burst of telekinesis. shivering? have his scarf, his hat, his jacket. when addressed at all he'll just blink and say,] Is something wrong? Can I help?
[have fun.]
[if it's strawberry a muted grey will start oozing from him, not unlike paint in water. everything about it is subdued, smells around the area vanish to nothing when too close, sounds softening. he doesn't seem to register it, goes about his day.
maybe he'll be found stopping to look up at some batcats on the roof of a random house in crenshaw, a little flare of golden warmth coming from him before it's sucked up by the grey again.] They're really cute. [is what he'll placidly inform anyone who stops to look as well.
maybe there will be a beast howl coming from the outskirts of the city by the farther shores, in which that grey will briefly go spiky and dark before muting back to normal. someone nearby will get glanced at.] We should get away.
[feel free to put any situation you want here as well.]
[if it's peacan everything will seem normal until one of his legs just... gives out. he falls into the snow, blinking, and can now be found just lying off the side of one of the main crenshaw roads.
just looking up at the sky, not particularly alarmed but given snow is starting to accumulate over his body it doesn't look comfortable. in fact he's starting to look pale and shaky from the cold if it's been long enough. if someone checks in he'll look up to them and say,] The chocolates aren't very nice.
[chocolatier betrayed him.]
[wildcard; if you want to do one of the other tdm prompts or something else please let me know! pm here or
dichotomy
What: february tdm prompts, other, just a general catchall
When: february and potentially onward
Where: around the trench
Content Warnings: none atm, to be added when relevant in threads.
gift giving, mostly for cr but open for all
[as a warmblood mob begins having the urge to give gifts. in truth this is seamless, easily picked up by his general wish to show appreciation for the people who have made this difficult situation better. it's one of the most valuable lessons he's learned, that he should be grateful for the people in his life, the ones who helped him grow and change. especially here, where it would have been easy to be alone.
so! gifts. anyone mob has cr with is fair game. if he'd know where they live he might leave them in their mailbox, at their door. it often won't come with any note but if it does it will be something simple, like 'i hope you like this' signed with his name.
he might seek the person out, bundled up in a sweater, jacket, scarf, gloves, muffled when he holds it out and says,] Here.
[anyone he met could get this treatment. people he hasn't met yet? also possible, if maybe they're sitting alone or just give off any air of being down. please feel free to bend the situation to anything needed.
the sort of things he might give away:
- any cool rock he just found, especially shiny ones
- any cool sea shell he found, again bonus points for shiny
- a little plant in a little pot, usually something simple that could be found around, herb or flower or fern
- a misshapen bonsai. he's still learning, okay
- scarves or mitten gloves, usually very ugly and bulky
- any of the chocolatier's chocolates. (note, none of the horny/romantics ones eaten around him, but feel free to take it and use it later if you want)
- wildcard of some odd thing he may have found in a shop or on the far shore. a brooch? a gear? etc, sky's the limit go nuts.]
chocolates, open to all
[the chocolatier doesn't seem to bother mob much. most things don't so this isn't surprising. the state of it's soul is a whole can of worms but anyone is free to see him talking to the creature at one point or the other, seemingly nonplussed as he allows it a few drops of his blood and is gifted chocolate in return.
he'll examine one before popping it into his mouth-
if it's caramel he'll blink, and the first person he sees he'll just... start following. this gives the mixed impression of being imprinted on by a baby duck but also one of those spooky, quiet kids you don't hear coming and is just there when you turn around.
does it look like there's snow in your way? he quickly lifts a hand to push it out of the way with a burst of telekinesis. shivering? have his scarf, his hat, his jacket. when addressed at all he'll just blink and say,] Is something wrong? Can I help?
[have fun.]
[if it's strawberry a muted grey will start oozing from him, not unlike paint in water. everything about it is subdued, smells around the area vanish to nothing when too close, sounds softening. he doesn't seem to register it, goes about his day.
maybe he'll be found stopping to look up at some batcats on the roof of a random house in crenshaw, a little flare of golden warmth coming from him before it's sucked up by the grey again.] They're really cute. [is what he'll placidly inform anyone who stops to look as well.
maybe there will be a beast howl coming from the outskirts of the city by the farther shores, in which that grey will briefly go spiky and dark before muting back to normal. someone nearby will get glanced at.] We should get away.
[feel free to put any situation you want here as well.]
[if it's peacan everything will seem normal until one of his legs just... gives out. he falls into the snow, blinking, and can now be found just lying off the side of one of the main crenshaw roads.
just looking up at the sky, not particularly alarmed but given snow is starting to accumulate over his body it doesn't look comfortable. in fact he's starting to look pale and shaky from the cold if it's been long enough. if someone checks in he'll look up to them and say,] The chocolates aren't very nice.
[chocolatier betrayed him.]
[wildcard; if you want to do one of the other tdm prompts or something else please let me know! pm here or
viktor and au pal | they can have such normal conversations
he sits up with a sigh.] Palamedes? I swear if you've turned into a hand instead of waking up as my husband I'm going to be livid. You will feel it, I assume, so be prepared for that.
[said in the tone of a man who foolishly expects pal to have turned back at the same time. they turned the same time, so he can dream and be disappointed.]
was going to be like au pal more like paul and then i remembered spoilers
And so when he turns over to look at Viktor with the wrong eyes, naturally his gaze drifts to the purple hand. Ah; the city cannot even let him keep his mean cyborg boyfriend for an extra day before returning them both? Who will he be sullen with now??]
No, I don't think so. [This is actually re: feeling it, but he lifts both his hands to gaze at how ordinary they are, too? Hm.] Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I'm still here.
god the pun is baked into the canon
viktor stares for a beat. every memory he's had of this pal is exactly that, a memory colored by a mindset not his own. no actual observation, which he is free to do now and doesn't particularly wish to. well, at the very least he can be frustrated and petulant about it in the privacy of his own chest. feelings that cover fear for how long whatever this is could last. he's heard of cases where it never goes away, this change.
he exhales, takes in the whole look, the eyes for just a beat before reaching to get his cane from the bedside and stand.] Typical of this place. I'm making tea, specifically for the corruption lowering effects. Do I need to bribe you to drink some?
no subject
And in all likelihood the other Palamedes would be irritated if he stressed out this softer and gentler Viktor too much, which he doesn't really want to think about. Ick.
Instead he sits up, turning away to reach for his glasses, and also so they don't have to stare at each other in open disappointment for the next few minutes, ahem.]
There's no way I can answer that with dignity. [what kind of weirdo is that walnut other-Pal, but also, yuck] I'll drink tea.
no subject
his chest aches, more so when he clumsily tugs at the space that is usually pal's emotions and finds nothing. it's fine.
no, it's decidedly not fine but he'll make do. for one thing making sure this other, sadder pal is looked after. he's still pal, that much viktor is sure of and ultimately swayed by.
so the water boils, the tea is brewed, viktor plucks out the petals from one cup as he always does when he pushes some on pal to help with the effects of spending so much time bloody, polluted minister duties. he leaves his cane in the kitchen to stiltedly make his way back with both cups, the petal-less one held out.]
I have no doubt that place built up corruption. You would know better, I suppose, having lived it properly. [a beat.] How are you?
no subject
Mostly, he stares at the stupid cozy bedspread and feels lonely about it, but that's reacting to circumstances in a mature way, definitely. When Viktor brings the tea back he takes it without protest, noting the lack of petals in the cup with another awful pang of missing his own life.
How does one get out of this, eat the skin and burn it or something? He should have asked for instructions.]
I'm... present. [Enough even to take a sip of this tea! That's something. Abruptly he remembers how he'd outright apologized to that kid of theirs (saccharine. god.) for not being the other one and gulps down tea to stop himself doing that again. Maybe he still has some dignity.]
Most of what we did over there was break windows. For the record.
no subject
well, it's not really surprising, he supposes. there were likely some matters fundamental to who pal was as a person, even under the scope of hm, horrendous tragedy.
he sips his own tea rather than dwell on that anymore. fucking trench.] Nothing else we'll have to worry about later? None of that unhinged shimmer nonsense?
no subject
[Just the cavernous abyss that all his good feelings fell into back at Canaan House, and honestly, he's never lied about that either. It's only habit in this version, because principles are for walnuts.
The mention of shimmer gets him to make a face over his tea, though, a brief flash of horror and vague guilt. The crimes against good sense they've both at least thought about using that stuff... yikes.]
Nothing, unless your cute little cottage has a kitchen cabinet full of shimmer you're not telling anyone about. Does it?
no subject
No, there's a vial in the lab from home and I'm fairly certain Jinx is capable of producing it herself but I have no intention of being involved with it. [faintly bitter note there. it didn't end well, did it! who would have thought.]
For that matter your counterpart picked out the house. Malicious compliance is a good term for it.
[as though he didn't find the colorful choice funny and go with it.]
no subject
And here I was going to guess it was your influence. I should have known; I saw those hideous yellow boots in the closet.
[What happened to that Palamedes... is that what marriage does to a man. Pros, cons. But now that he's seriously thinking about the house, hm,]
Does someone else live here?
[It's Cait's presence he's noticed, but not the woman personally; and he dare not, like, hope or anything about women who might happen to live here, but. Well. But.]
no subject
[and probably won't. he resists the urge to roll his eyes at other viktor for perpetuating all the grim coping mechanisms and what not. not a fan of that guy, which he refuses to consider at any length.]
Oh, Caitlyn is staying with us. She's from my world, she is like Jayce's sister. [a beat to realize-] Ah right, your Viktor didn't know Jayce. My research partner back home, from Piltover.
[another sip of the tea before he moves to sit at the end of the bed with a sigh.] Not her. [cam.] I'm sorry.
no subject
It's not as if I'm lacking for time, [he says, instead, but yeah no way he is going to get yellow boots and stomp around in delight about how ugly they are. Seems wack.
But he can skip thinking about that for now, and focus rather on how apparently it's still possible for his heart to shatter in gruesome disappointment. He didn't think— well. Surely the other Palamedes would have more evidence of Camilla's presence in his own right, little notes left around or something, so he didn't think it was likely... And yet.]
Don't. I wouldn't be able to look her in the face, anyway. I'd barely make it past staring at her from around corners.
[Ha ha. He would do this though, unfortunately. He considers the tea for a moment.]
It's been a while.
no subject
probably time to focus on other matters, like cam, which is a minefield.]
From my understanding of her I doubt she'd allow it to stay that way. [time to down the rest of his tea like a shot, get that done, thinking of the one time he saw cam as a dry teen in that memory.]
For my Palamedes I believe it's almost been a year. [said with a type of tired that says he has no idea how to help him grapple with that.]
no subject
I'd want her to, [he says, and it's a kind of relief to be frank about Camilla rather than dance around the topic of her the way he usually does. Maybe because this Viktor will, uh, ideally never see him again, and probably won't tell him to scrape out his brains and put in a salad spinner to solve all his emotional problems. Maybe.
So,] I'd want her to hate me— at least for a time. For doing what I've done to her. But she wouldn't; I already know. I've seen the results, you know, of the process—
[And he furrows his brow for a moment, looking at Viktor and wondering if he knows The Process, but he seems pretty aware of what the score is, so moving on,] —without both parties entering with equal understanding and similar goals. It isn't me.
[And isn't that a thought, that his hand would be forced like this and she would let him. He makes a face, a grim smirk.]
Don't tell your precious walnut that. He'll bawl like a child.
no subject
hey, he hates 'god,' but that's not new.] I admit, I've been rather impressed you managed as well as you did, aside from the eh, the soul tearing ideals. [yeah that part is hm, unhinged.
but 'walnut' forces a laugh out of him, one he smothers with a shake of his head. definitely telling pal about that name at least. the rest? well-] We have this tendency to be honest with each other, so I make no promises. Besides, you know yourself. Truth over solace, is it?
no subject
Maybe he's been going about this wrong. Maybe he can wallow and forgive himself a little at the same time? Something to think about.
He makes a face, like, please. He's so past trying to rip himself in half.]
In my defense, the nature of my particular soul makes it not a complete impossibility. If I had the correct method...
[Well, anyway.]
You two are adorable. It's gross.
[fond? like looking in a saccharine mirror.]
no subject
[yeah, idiot likes his boyfriend(?) not soul ripped in half, which viktor isn't entirely sure what these two are but that seems close enough. it's amusing and sweet to think even so changed he'd be drawn to pal, but he'll leave those thoughts be for now. still too unsettled that his pal is technically just... vanished for an unknown period of time.
that accusation gets a snort despite himself.] I know. I am routinely devastated by what a sap I've become.
I never thought I'd marry. Palamedes- you as well, I suppose- always seemed the more romantic type. Books and questionable poetry.
no subject
He was fairly insistent, in the end.
[A feeble defense of his own angry cyborg? Is this an agreement or a vague allusion to how they made out about it a little, who can say. It's both. God, does he want to go back to his own Trench.
But in the meantime, hmm. Stop, it's saccharine.]
I've always wanted to be married. [So the other him, too, is of course implied.] Don't ask me why; it's not as if that mattered much to anyone on the Sixth, for obvious reasons. But I've always thought about it at least somewhat.
[He... does not pursue the thought of if he's a worthwhile marriage prospect now, given The Circumstances. Yuck @ himself.]
The other Viktor hates it when I tell him any of the poetry. [you know. in the gay bickering way.]
no subject
the answer to that question is sweet (and sad, since this pal tends towards that.) ]
I suppose I can understand better now. There is something to having a partner in life you can trust to have your back. [and pal would have known that from a young age, given cam, who is hm, a complicated subject he won't bring up and just let linger in the spaces between their conversation instead.] Work was always more important. And then, of course, time wasn't on my side.
[no longer a bitter thing, given the shiny new lungs. he shakes his head at poetry.] You mean you snipe about it then make out? [he has your number... from what little he's seen/recalls at least.]
no subject
[He's just commiserating, honest, this is not more sulking despite how everything he says carries a thin film of Sulk over it. There was never enough time to help Dulcinea, there was never enough time to protect Cam, there will never be enough time to amend his myriad mistakes... no, time is a bitch. They agree on that much.]
Now, before I ask what the two of you got up to in there&madsh; [he points a wiggling index finger at Viktor, indicating, you know, his chest. up there in the lungs. it's got to be different from what his mean robot bf has up in there, he'll get to this,] I know I don't need to tell you of all people precisely how frisky the proper combination of you and I can get in a laboratory setting.
[Universal Pal truths: says words like frisky unironically.]
So: of course, but I prefer "banter." What are your lungs made of now?
no subject
the finger wiggling makes that turn to a soft snort, lips quirking further at the rest.] Yes, that is true. Have you two been kicked out of the Red yet?
[he'd love to hear robot viktor had to suffer the same bullshit, honestly. is getting frisky in a storage closet universal.]
I can show you our notes if you'd like, but this- [a gesture to his chest.] -is quite the combination of necromancy, blood magic and Hextech. Your counterpart did the surgery, of course. He was very proud of some of his solutions. He does enjoy a challenge.