feb catchall with some open prompts

[centile]

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

Comments

[megatheorem]

[Well, at least his darling mad scientist couldn't have raided the cabinets for vials of shimmer to take home and do more mad science with. Somehow, that's a substantial relief.]

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.]

[mehanizovati]

He's delving into the world of color, not unlike he expects it to bite him if he gets too close. [dry. a touch fond still, which is weird when talking to the alternate version of this same dude.] I assume you have not yet taken that journey.

[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.

[megatheorem]

[Ah yes, there is an odd quality to that, listening to the wrong Viktor but-still-Viktor say these fond little things about not himself but-still-himself. It's not jealousy - can't be, when he is so fond of the Viktor he actually knows, regardless of how often they do gooey things like "talk about feelings" (he can feel a lot of talking about feelings in this house, whew). It's just strange.]

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.

[mehanizovati]

[sadly unlikely to embrace weird walnut pal moments of growth. to be fair robot viktor would probably look at him like he grew another head if he came in wearing anything yellow. then idk, they'd flirt menacingly about it as one does. that's normal viktor's take on the ridiculous situation.

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.]

[megatheorem]

[Get this man a big yellow hat ASAP so robot Viktor can bully it off him in an aggressively flirtatious way. That would help him think less about Cam, which he is stuck doing now, with soft Viktor making his grim faces about the other Palamedes. That fucking guy.]

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.

[mehanizovati]

She would be right. What happened was done to both of you. [the way tragedies are, terrible things happening typically because terrible people let them or encouraged it. good people, bystanders, bad people, whoever was caught up in the chaos making do.

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?

[megatheorem]

[Ah. Well, damn this soft Viktor and his reasonable attitude and his sympathy. Palamedes is more comfortable wallowing in the guilt than rationalizing the situation like that, because that feels like the solace, rather than the truth.

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.]

[mehanizovati]

[have a face back, sir.] A bad defense. Even my unhinged other self could see it. Though I think he was less rational about it than he'd like to admit.

[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.

[megatheorem]

[Hey, stop that with the faces. Palamedes' gaze sliiiides away and he takes another sip of the tea, like, ahem. Maybe so. Now two Viktors are on his case about the soul tearing problem... jeez...]

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.]

[mehanizovati]

The one thing he and I agree on wholeheartedly. [thanks, inferior robot viktor. he's making a vague attempt not to be completely rude to the guy, partially because sad pal like him and partially because he doesn't want to untangle hating himself so much, even if it's hypothetical edgelord him. the trench could have a field day about it.

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.]

[megatheorem]

Time is never on anyone's side.

[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?

[mehanizovati]

[if viktor had a glass he'd toast to that. instead he just lets out a breath. let everyone have a little sulk for a moment about bullshit in their lives.

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.