deercountry | april catch

Entry tags:

april catch - all

Who: viktor and others, open to all with some closed prompts
What: some late march/early april logs, including some tdm stuff. i'm happy to attach something else on if anyone's interest in doing something specific
When: late march through april
Where: various

content warning; terminal illness, arcane season 1 spoilers, likely game typical beast gore/body horror, potentially ableism mentioned, claustrophobic imagery

open prompts.

fishers of dreams - the lighthouse, early april (tdm)

a. while awake

[if you've been roped into this lighthouse business too you may enter to find a man already there. he seems vaguely disgruntled by the business, offers vague greetings but otherwise sticks to scribbling in his notebook. it looks like schematics and formulae, but anyone with an eye for either might notice they tend to trail off and start in odd bursts.

viktor will offer to cook when evening falls (or whatever seems to be the right mealtime in this place) so maybe that is a better time to strike up conversation. the smell coming from the kitchen is heavy on whatever spices the place stocks, promising pain to anyone who doesn't have the stomach for that sort of thing. worse if he finds the rotgut liquor tucked away, which he will pull out and offer despite smelling more like turpentine than anything edible.

these tricks of the eye though, flashes of people vaguely recognizable, he chalks it up more hallucinations. last month was mushrooms, so this? irritating, far more distracting, but it followed the pattern.

it isn't until later in all this he'll track whoever is with him down.] Did you see someone else come through? There, just up the stairs.

b. nightmare

[trying to reach the odd lighthouses is fruitless, the shadows converge and when the dark clears the area seems more closed in than before. it shouldn't be, he was just outside on the shore, yet now the dark sky seems to hang too low, lower still, suffocating.]

What now? This is another illusion of sorts, is it not? One this place is so fond of. [viktor sounds more irritated than anything, maybe defensive since the grip his has on his crutch is white-knuckle tight. in the distance seems to be a lighthouse, though the light is far and the area is so stifling, promising a tunnel that will close and snuff out the light entirely.

it's ridiculous of course, the walls are not that close, certainly not enough for this suffocating grip on the lungs and throat. there's no real explanation, less so when a few steps forward and the ground begins to dot with great metal cables, the distinct, sickly sweet smell of chemicals in the air. there are pools between them where the ocean should have been, this time shallow spills of what could be gasoline or something similar, slick rainbow puddles, oily and difficult to walk through without slipping or sinking.]

(ooc; for this one please, feel free to add your own character's nightmare in any flavor at any point!)

odds and ends - willful machine, early april

[viktor can be found around the vendors often enough, especially those specializing in scrap metal, tools or small machinery. for the most part he doesn't stick out, except for the fact often his massive omen often accompanies him, some sort of huge pink salamander/axolotl that he'll lean against or ask rather politely to help carry larger purchases.

he doesn't seem to notice or care about any attention, though the creature will blink curiously around. feel free to approach or find him haggling rather intently for such a stick of a man, accent thickening when it gets heated enough. maybe you want the same scrap? or are looking for something and he's standing nearby enough to notice a lost look and offers assistance?]

[one might also find him about by the sound of a nasty coughing fit. he stands with his back curled, a rag to his mouth as a makeshift handkerchief. it's a wet cough that shakes his entire frame, and when it's over his sniffs and clears his throat, straightening.

the cloth is stained in a pale color that catches the perpetual moonlight of april. paleblood, that he regards for a moment before folding the cloth in on itself with a small frown.]

closed prompts.

jinx - willful machine, late march

[viktor doesn't stay by the lamp exactly. he would usually but he hardly sees the point when this person he's meeting knows him by sight as far as he can tell. it leaves him feeling comfortable to wander within eyeshot mostly of the lantern, strolling down the canal docks to find a place to stand and watch the boats cut slowly through the water.

he likes it here, he thinks, in this district. the noise and foot traffic, the winding canals and dirty water, the boats bobbing to and fro - it wouldn't be a bad place to set up. a lab that will double as his home because he doesn't see the point in separating the two any longer, even if he can practically hear heimendinger's tutting about his work-life balance in his ear. it will be closer to the vendors, less of a hike to acquire what he'll need to start fresh. first a new brace for his leg and back, then some basic experiments into lunar energy to get a feel for it.

his lungs flare and burn, minor enough he manages to swallow it down without reaching for the rag in his pocket. he makes a note of the severity and timing, adds it to his growing mental list that seems to indicate his illness does indeed remain but is diminished. promising, if he's being optimistic, but at the moment he feels only a sense of irritation that now he doesn't know the timeline of his own life. one he might be shortening drastically with this ridiculous stunt.

a sigh and viktor goes back to watching the boats, trying to clear his head. he considers trying to message vi and ask her opinion of this but... no, he doubts he'll get anything. he's not sure if he disgusts her as a class traitor or amuses her in truth. better to just see for himself what he's gotten himself into like a fool.]

allen - willful machine, early april

[the 'grand tour' doesn't amount to much yet, the lab area just a large, empty space dotted with a few tables and a couple of desks, not even a chalkboard he's been keeping an eye out for or something that could do the same. one of the desks at least is littered with junk, at the moment tools and the starts of a knee brace, a table nearby with all the scrap he's managed to grab that could be useful in the future. one corner has a cot, maybe he'll clear out whatever other small rooms the place has later for a bedroom proper. maybe not.

viktor seems satisfied with it as he gestures around, and rio has commandeered one of the tables for her own to lie across.] A solid start, I think. I like this area, this eh... Willful Machine, that is.

[he'll never admit part of it is the boats. everyone's allowed a sort of childish interest, right? they're soothing, even if they lack the motors that fascinated him.] Have a seat, if you'd like. How have you been since the tombs?

wildcard.

[as i said, feel free to ask for anything else, including other tdm prompts, i am more interested in seeing the worlds built by others for the archway prompts so i didn't include any here. my plurk is

dichotomy or you can dm me here!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Oh boy, they sure are back on this again. Palamedes hums, amused; see, this is why they had to make it an evening, he hasn't even bothered to do anything with darkblood magic yet and the snacks are already running out. It's fine, though — it's good, and while explaining how the Nine Houses work politically may not provide much in the way of accomplishing any ends here in Trench, he's curious about Viktor's insights.

But first he scoops up Viktor's abandoned bowl and stands to set it on the tiny countertop that serves as most of the kitchen in here. He's a creature of endless little movements, and so he talks as he gets up:]

We have one sun and nine planets — eight Houses proper, the First is the Emperor's domain and I'm told he spends most of his time on a spooky spaceship.

[Or did, before making tea a few blocks away in Gaze for months on end, but he'll get there. He holds up one finger for that and now another, as this is now a numbered list.]

The House is the entire thing — like I said, some of them are bigger than others. The Seventh numbers a couple million, I don't recall the most recent census — but it's all one Seventh House, and so on for the rest. The Sixth is smaller, and we have a persistently worsening consanguinity problem — Camilla is actually my second cousin, one of many, though I don't know the rest well at all — still: the title of "House" signifies the whole, and "heir" to the legacy, not a single bloodline.

[Cool stuff. He's filled the snack bowls with water, to... soak? God, but if he never has to do dishes again, it will be too soon. That seems fine for now, and he returns to the table with the rest of the pomegranate that didn't make it into the snack.

Item three, with another finger held up:] We're ten thousand years deep into the post-Resurrection era, which means exactly what it sounds like. By my understanding, the founders of the other eight houses left the First and it just... decayed.

[Good riddance, though. He offers the rest of the fruit, and item number four:]

Do you want this? Two of the Ninth are here— no, three, but I've yet to meet the other one— they're friends of mine. They're... unique. One of the Emperor's Saints is here, we've met, and- [he shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose for this one, pushing his glasses up and askew, but Good God--] -the Emperor. Himself.

[Actually God, For Real!!! It's yet to stop feeling surreal. ~~Palamedes hasn't clocked yet another non-friend from home kicking around, but sooner or later...~~]

As far as I'm aware, they all live together here in Gaze. [And Palamedes Lives Here, which can stand on its own. He fixes his glasses, ahem.] You can ask more questions, but d'you want me to do some magic in the interim?

[ok, so an emperor, one question answered. spooky spaceship has him perking up- more the spaceship part, it being spooky is an aesthetic choice he can live with if the technology is good.] You have no idea what you do to my heart when you casually speak of space travel. Ah, what I would not give to see the schematics for one of those ships.

[he's always had a thing for boats, if he's being honest it's part of what he likes about the willful machine, the canals and makeshift crafts running along it. spaceships are basically the same concept only far more advanced and, in turn, far more tempting.

but yes okay, not houses as he was thinking. a population, it almost sounded more like a particularly involved civilization. before he can really get going again on a number of those topics he blinks at being offered the fruit.] Oh, if you are certain? [little zaun things, food being kind of a Thing. being offered snacks he essentially exchanged for incense is one thing, being offered more after that feels difficult to accept without payment. more so here where food isn't plentiful (and wasted) as it is in piltover.

anyway he considers for a moment before asking,] Do houses to intermingle enough to help with that sort of population problem? I suppose it would involve complicated politics to move between houses and alliances that way. I just would have expected more... ah, political marriages, I suppose?

[ah, so he was right about something big happening, if everyone just fucked off the first one day and that was that.] Must have been quite the dramatic event to cause such an exodus - oh, yes please, we are here for a purpose.

[and boy does he want to see some darkblood magic, maybe even more than he wants to ask endless questions. he nods along, not shocked to hear a bunch of people from pal's world are here. he's noticed a level of grouping, even with his world the undercity seems a popular place to take from, given three undercity born including himself were here.

but obviously there's one thing he has to ask, brow raising at that reaction.] I am guessing the Emperor is a bit of an overwhelming figure to meet. I assume he's the strongest necromancer of your world? [or makes everyone think so. that's one way to grab a title like that.]

[Ah, double endearing tidbits, the yearning for spaceships and snack surprise. Palamedes has just sat down again but he half-stands, reaching across the little table to pinch at Viktor's sleeve and tug, so that he might wordlessly deposit the rest of the fruit straight into his hand. Yes, take this fruit, Palamedes won't even appreciate it despite the not-insignificant sliver he had to chip off one of his limited-quantity bloodstones to get all these rare foods.

He's not going to mention that part because he already gave his "do not pay me" friendship speech, QED.]

I want you to have it. Enjoy it. [It's a Gesture, accept it.] The Sixth has consanguinity tables, to keep track. Broadly, necromancers aren't allowed to marry inter-House — Imperial law.

[Uh huh. Magic time, though, and he stands straight to roll up his sleeves and step into the middle of the room, which isn't terribly far from the table, anyway. To the issue of the Emperor he says,]

That's right, [which is the truth, and,] I've decided to be neutral about that.

[Which is Nine Houses Drama.]

Now, for telekinesis, I've been working under the theory of two larger types that can be molded to suit specific needs, et cetera: with and without bloodshed. Here—

[He squints and crooks a finger, and with a little pop! a pomegranate seed comes loose from the rest of the fruit and wobbles in the air. Tada.]

[ugh, he's having Feelings again. unbelievable, at this rate he's going to become an openly sentimental person and then what will he do? still, viktor looks down to the fruit with a small smile before clearing his throat, glancing over to pal with a soft look.]

Well... thank you then. [a touch awkward but sincere. now he really needs to make sure they have powdered milk around the lab at least. a shame camille isn't here so he could try to use her for information on pal related preferences.]

... what? Why would they not be? [color him baffled. a way to keep power in check? pushing an isolationist society? absolutely odd, he can't say runeterra is one for a lot of intermingling but it does happen. the idea of having to keep charts for it all is a little mind boggling too. at least it's more practical than the sort of charts piltover elite keep just for showing off family lines and old money.

he turns in his chair to watch pal, rio's head popping up to also keep an eye on these interesting proceedings, a little, curious trill as she does.] Are the others of your world that are here so neutral?

[maybe he'll ask more about this emperor and the others later, always good to know who is around. for now though he pops a bit more of the fruit into his mouth and listens.

the without bloodshed intrigues him, more so when suddenly the little seed is pulled from the rest. he blinks, lips quirking because he can't help it, magic of any type is still a wonder to see done freely. he pokes at it, a light brush of his fingertip.] This seems very fine tuned control. Incredible, if we could harness this-

[don't get ahead of yourself, viktor. he gestures for pal to continue speaking, trying not to derail it as he sometimes tends to.]

[Ah, Cam could provide him with an itemized list, sorted top down through preference and her own personal judgment of being worth the effort to get, and so on. Alas. One day.

Palamedes does not wink again - almost, now that he's in the zone to show off magic it nearly happens - just smiling right back and then dropping into a shrug. That the inter-House marriage laws exist is something he's either never thought about or ignored completely when someone else was thinking about them, so — who knows.]

You'd have to — hello, Rio — you'd have to ask someone else about the laws. [A beat.] It could be arbitrary. Necro-cav marriages are kind of a no-no, too, but it still happens.

[So: random, maybe. Somebody's outdated nonsense ideas. Who knows if it was even the Emperor who came up with that one, perhaps one of the Saints was having a rough go of it and tired of their colleagues on a really extreme, "don't talk to me or my House ever again" level. Enough information about Way Back When is still gone forever...

Nevertheless, Palamedes flicks his finger and makes the seed spin faster, bouncing a little when Viktor brushes against it.]

I'm a quick study, to be fair. [yeah mhm yep this is the showing off portion, for sure] Blood quantity is proportional to the level of power, I think all evidence points to that thus far. Application is the inverse, which should vary by individual. Levels can be supplemented, where necessary — precision can be learned.

[Precision like zipping a pomegranate seed around in a tight circle above the table, before he lets it drop back down. Tada.... 2!!!]

[rio bleps in greeting, likely watching the whole seed telekinesis like a cat intrigued but too comfortable to do anything about. viktor is more the cat actively poking at it, eyes only leaving to regard how pal's movements correspond with the seed's.]

Hm, I suppose that's considered a conflict of interests somehow? Keep eh... work and life separate. If it even counts as work. [it sounded a little more like a duty to him, the kind of thing you'd read in demacian stories about knights and nobles. in that sense he can easily see why there'd be a stigma against marriages.] The way you talk of her sounds like family.

[actually it reminds him a little of jayce and cait, or maybe more what little he's heard of camilla reminds him of cait. all the more curious to meet her, and maybe simply because he'd prefer pal had her here to have his back. talk about sentimental.

he nods along, watching the seed drop before exhaling in amusement.] I would applaud but- [that would make a mess. he picks up the seed between his fingertips, warm with fascination at it all.] I wonder how adaptable application ultimately is - in other words just how much can be learned aside from precision? The magic seems to have such an internal focus, or perhaps I should say personal focus? Aside from general consistent abilities within certain blood types.

[Rio!! God! Give Palamedes half an hour to show off magic, then he will at last just ask if he can pat her on her big squishy head. Truly a wonder.]

Cam? We've known each other our whole lives. Some Houses have a stick up their collective ass about professionalism in the necromancer-cavalier partnership, [he says it like he's heard this quoted at him and rolled his eyes then just the same as he does now,] I think it's reductive to think of it like that. Cold, too.

[Then again, that line of thinking opens up the can of worms that is how some of the other Houses treat their cavaliers, but mm, not tonight; they've been through enough heavy subjects in the past half hour alone without getting into, say, the abject horrors of soul siphoning.

It would really kill the buzz of telekinetic parlor tricks, all told. He blinks, focusing again on the magic.]

I've been thinking about that, too. [He's not all wrapped up in his cloak today, being at home, but he's always wearing at least one robe-ish overpiece with many inside pockets, which he now reaches into for - a scalpel.] Oh — did you bring a match?

[For the incense, before he starts nicking his fingertips open for Blood Time.]

Step one, of course, is to take the internal power source and spill it out. I can do remote necromancy, so surely... [He waves a hand, like. Surely. Surely also this.]

[go ahead and ask, she does love pets. viktor's been trying to figure out if she really does hold something of the real rio in her, if it's his own memories of rio loving pets shining through or it says something about him and a little touch hunger if she's merely a reflection of him. he vastly prefers the first of the list, thanks. it might be a little naive but he can't help clinging a little to the idea some version of rio gets a pain free life somewhere.

traumatic childhood pet dragon stuff aside he nods along to that.] I don't see how they expect two people linked so closely from a young age not to have a deep personal bond as well. Trying to fight such a basic human instinct seems a losing battle.

[maybe not all of them are from birth? even then it still seems a bond that's bound to get personal one way or the other. he only spent a decade working closely with jayce and the idea of that ever staying purely professional lasted about a couple of hours.

he pops the seed into his mouth before going to dig through his bag with his free hand, pulling out a little matchbook and pushing it closer. he also pulls out a little incense holder, someone was prepared! truthfully it's something he does just carry around incase he has a really bad blood cough fit and he needs to make sure he can sit to breath and not attract every beast around.]

Surely it can be replicated. [nerd excitement again.] With how adaptive blood magic seems to be and the odd nature of darkblood itself...

[Sooner or later Palamedes will have to entertain his own omen, which may be a challenge, considering she is a very large bird that only loves him? He'll work it out in a way such that she would not maim any guests.]

You'd think, but here we are. Well — here I am. [A beat. Hey.] Now you've got me talking about her.

[Very clever, sir. It's a sort of melancholy smile he offers for this, since, well - he promised to talk about these things, Cam included, much as not having her around does feel sharply like he's missing a limb when he thinks about it actively.

That and he rather doesn't know where to start, which might be obvious from the "our whole lives" part; talking about missing Camilla is like talking about why he breathes air? She's not here; he misses her. How does he articulate the rest...

Luckily he has something else to do, that is, pricking his fingertip and willing just enough magic into the blood that beads so that it doesn't glitter away.]

That's the idea. Necromantic blood wards are easy enough to draw - could someone draw a darkblood ward, that creates, I don't know, an area of effect that can levitate an object? If I do this- [Smear. Blood on something, which he decides will be a mug he swipes off the counter and runs his finger around the bottom of.] -I can let it float without having to concentrate.

[Which it does, when he lets go, behold!! It's ready to drift over to Viktor, get ready.]

[viktor offers an one shouldered shrug, a little smirk as he says,] It's hardly my fault she sounds such an interesting individual. The ah 'opening up' that comes along is a happy accident.

[which actually is just the truth, despite the playful smirk. maybe it's just a matter of getting pal to talk about his experiences, which seem to so often involve camilla it's inevitable. the perks of a great many questions.

still the melancholy smile makes him ease off it, let pal decide how much more he wants to say or avoid. maybe one evening he can see if pal enjoys liquor and they can have a toast about it, something along those lines. it's a thought he puts away to examine later, a touch surprised he's already thinking of future encounters like it's natural they'll occur.

he makes sure to get their incense lit, the smell still a little odd to him even after using these quite often. he goes back to picking at his fruit as he watches this- oh, the idea of heimendinger seeing him now, sitting around having a nice evening with a necromancer and watching him do blood magic? the poor man would have a heart attack. it probably shouldn't amuse him as much as it does.

when the cup drifts over he takes the handle, eyes bright with the possibility of it all. he takes a peek at the darkblood underneath, head tilting before he's looking back to pal in thinly veiled excitement.]

Can you make necromantic blood wards this way if you had a vial of someone else's blood? Blood seems to be commodified in a way that would say you could. [surely he can, which if so means all blood, regardless of the donor, would bend to the magical laws of necromancy as pal knows it when in pal's hands. and that is terribly exciting to him, given hextech is largely about learning those magical laws and how to express them.]

[Ah, and complimenting her — that gets him, he can practically see the imaginary hook reeling him in, but maybe it's time. He'd been manic in the days immediately after her departure, and not in the mood a week or so ago, sitting on The Emperor's Own Sofa being asked the same sort of gentle nudging questions — those were not good times. Now, though, in his own home-away-from-home, and with the looming spectre of corruption always there...]

Ask me after this. [Before he can convince himself that he can put off the Cam conversation for another week. Ahem.] I'll — think of something.

[Until then: mugs! He lets it drift, pinching his fingertip to ooze out some more blood, in preparation for the next thing he smears it on - whatever that may be. He hasn't picked yet.]

I might be able to — if I had to guess, I would expect it to take more effort to manipulate, say, paleblood- [do not bleed into a cup for him, not that anybody is suggesting that, but do not] -due to the cross-type...

But once a ward is down, it should work independently — it's the making that takes the most effort.

[He comes over to the table, pleased - he's sooo good at magic - and tickled by how delighted Viktor is by something like this. He leans his non-bleeding hand on the back of Viktor's chair, watches him play with the mug. It will still float, although he's not entirely sure how long that one blood ring will last, so be careful with that...]

Coldblood — that one adds an elemental touch, I've seen it. What would we do with paleblood wards, do you think? You mentioned a shared paleblood experience, but it didn't sound... great. No offense.

[viktor nods, and when pal comes over he puts what he hopes is a comforting hand on his arm. it's after a moment of hesitation, personal space is such a tricky thing and he's never been very good at reading the room for what's appropriate. he removes it after a moment - somewhere in all this he probably finished the fruit or put it aside for now, and focuses on their far more light hearted discussion of magic.

he was thinking more bleed into a vial than a cup, but he resists offering for the moment. focusing on darkblood, and the functionality of various types of wards, etc.] You've said before that you use your reserves of thanergy when doing necromancy- when you supplement it with darkblood like this does it negate the need for dipping into your reserves? Blood here seems to be a potent source of energy on its own.

[which leads to a lot of interesting questions about fueling different magics from different sources- could a hexgem from his home help fuel necromacy? how far did all this exchange go?

he keeps his hands ready to catch the mug just in case but mostly he just softly directs it through the air, lips quirked at being able to interact with magic in such a direct way. it reminds him a little of early hextech, floating in the dean's lab, the magic floating like stars around them. a very fond memory, maybe one of the reasons he's learned to take delight in magic.

the question makes him hum as he considers,] As far as I can tell paleblood is often associated with magics of the mind or empathy. Off the top of my head? My hope would be it could create a calming field of influence that could perhaps be used to sedate beasts for purification rather than more violent means of restraint.

Oh, I have meant to tell you, I think you'll find this interesting. [he glances up at pal as he speaks, finally looking away from cool magic mug.] I have only noticed one ability manifesting from my own blood that I certainly did not have before. Once I bled on a simple bunsen burner I was fixing and I found myself able to... hm, to feel what was wrong with it, is the best way I can describe it. A clog in one of the lines, it would have needed full dismantling to see that for myself.

I think it's a reflection of paleblood in some way, I also know a man who developed the ability to read minds from his.

[It's a welcome touch, and honestly, the correct length for acknowledging his mess of Cam-related feelings before it's removed again. He nods appreciatively, then takes a short, kind of steadying breath - he's good! Later, he swears. For now he tilts forward some, watching the mug and glancing at Viktor intermittently, while he shares his ideas.]

Could I tell you with absolute certainty? No. It feels different somehow, though — lighter, if I had to pick an adjective. You'd think changing the bodily element of all of the blood would have a more obvious effect. In my case, I suspect there's been a kind of... mixing. Blood, necromancy, you know — twisted together.

[He hasn't asked the other necromancers around if it's different for them for one super huge reason, which he can explain at a later date when he wants to get a little angry. All of them have unique necromancy to begin with, but of the selection, his is the most standard to the everyday necromancer. Call it standard, anyway.

With a hum, he reaches over to stick a bloody fingerprint on the mug, so it can bounce in the air a little longer. It's arts and crafts and a show. He continues to stare at the mug while Viktor talks about paleblood, and - ah? God, he bled on a bunsen burner, that twists something in his chest that he stalwartly does not let show on his face and he earnestly hopes that's an "oops, cut my finger" bled and not Viktor's other prevalent type of bleeding—

So when he does look at Viktor properly again, he is merely sparkling with interest. Cool skill, actually?]

That's — machine empathy? [huh!] Of course, it would be that for you. If we could come up with a way to differentiate between something like your machine empathy and reading minds, the possibilities multiply by a thousandfold in an instant.

[And a calming field could be paired with those hope lights, if there's a way to utilize those indefinitely...!! Oh, the mind reels. Palamedes looks at Viktor with genuine admiration, for his mind and empathy alike.]

Let me get you a pen. You're incredible, you know that? We need to make another list.

[Eventually also pare down said lists, once the high of innovation has worn off... He thought that before and he's thinking it again, but he's still hastily rifling through his pile o' books and papers here on the table for a pen and something to write on.]

That does sound in line to how this eh... this blood business works. It blends so seamlessly with every sleeper, why would it not blend seamlessly with their magical structure and reserves. [he's back to hair twirls as he thinks about it all, one hand still hovering near the cup, tapping it in lazy spins through the air. still delightful.]

Of course it would be easier for us if it was more structured, but if anything was easy here I would not be a squid who still deals with back pain. [the audacity of that still genuinely annoys him. really, where is the justice in the world? at least let him reap some reward for his entire understanding of his reality as a pointy, fleshy human being turned on its head.

he watches the extra blood give the now wavering cup a boost to stay afloat, smiling at that. darkblood also smells much better he now sees, why his blood has to smell like milk in the moonlight he doesn't know. at least it isn't spoiled milk but it still is a little odd and off putting.]

I suppose that's the right term. Ah... in truth I haven't explored it much- it felt a little insulting when it first happened. I hardly need blood magic to fix a simple bunsen burner. [he's a touch sheepish to admit this- hey, everyone has their pride somewhere, right? he's far more intrigued by it now that he's let that go, and even more so now that he's finally exploring blood magic properly largely thanks to pal.]

That is my thought though- imagine if we can find a way to replicate magic empathy, a way to read the nuances of spellwork and blood magic itself. It would speed up the research process tenfold, no doubt. [magic is so tricky, having a better way of understanding it? an actual dream. dangerous in many ways, but he's always had more of a focus on the now than the 'what if' dangers.

that compliment makes his lips quirk, a touch pleased despite himself. what, it's nice to be recognized by someone you respect. he leans back a little to watch him rifle through, endeared by his enthusiasm. he never really thought he'd find someone he enjoyed collaborating with other than jayce, though to be fair his time at the academy was a classist mess so maybe his pool of possible collaborators was a bit skewed in the asshole variety.

or maybe pal's just unique, that is something he can easily believe. there's certainly a reason an entire planet decided he should be the 'warden,' or so he assumes. it's actually a little humbling to think of it that way, he really is working with what is likely one of the greater minds of that world.] Next time I am out I am finding us a notebook purely for our lists, and maybe some of those squid pictures you've drawn. They add character.

[Magic is as magic does, he supposes; even necromancy manifests in different magics, bone or flesh or spirit, and so of course the blood magic of this place grafts itself onto each of them in a different way.

...And Viktor still has back pain, which is unfair in a different way. Palamedes has been thinking about his cough - and will now even more, after learning that it was fumes and not genes that caused the problem - but he has nothing for that right now but another wry,] That does suck.

[Actually, why is he a squid who still needs glasses, what the fuck... Trench is a ridiculous place that follows no rules, and yet here they are, trying to apply rules to make progress happen. It's a living.]

Call it a eureka moment, [he offers with a crooked grin, thumbing through books.] Plenty of great discoveries are made by ridiculous accidents. D'you think magic empathy could be analogous at all to psychometry? I'd love to touch the components of spellwork and skip straight to the end.

[Haha— if only. An idea, though, still. He finally hands Viktor a notebook (which may have a bloody fingerprint on it now, oops) and then a pen, quirking an eyebrow. He hears it now from both of them, the shift into "our" and "we," and it strikes a chord in him he hadn't expected - although he probably should have. The Sixth are cagey even among themselves; equal collaboration is... new! And exciting! And in the moment where he looks from Viktor over to Rio claiming his whole tiny couch, he thinks for the first time since Camilla went back into the sea that it's less empty in here.

Sappy. Absolute grade-A Sentiment, right there. Hmm.]

Sure, I'll draw some new ones. One with glasses. [Which he takes off to fiddle with now, to busy his hands.] Listen— You've offered me some of your space, so in the interest of friendly equivalent exchange...

[The obvious thing. Ahem.]

Well, she really likes that couch. The two of you are welcome here.

change your entire blood structure, still need glasses. sounds about right. needless to say viktor was pretty peeved to find all of this only mildly improved his terminal illness, but that's a long, winding road he's not interested in going down.

he only needs to consider for a moment before saying,] Yes, I think so. In fact I think going about it with psychometry in mind would be the most efficient way to do so. I imagine the component of prolonged touch would make the empathy more effective- the flow of your blood and your own natural magic would surely help boost the effects.

Not only that but since you already have a strong basis in psychometry I think the blood magic would react better to it. The biggest obstacle seems to be the type mixing. [but if they did get this bloodgem business going maybe they could use a paleblood gem to make a glove of some kind, not unlike the hexclaw's control glove. much to think about. still very ahead of himself but that's half the fun in brainstorming, really.

he takes the notebook with a grateful nod, flipping open to the already designated 'list page' he started before, drawing a sharp line down to differentiate the two lists in question. he can't help a little chuckle at the image of a squid with glasses- he really is prone to working with doodlers, jayce wasn't much better. he found that charming and he finds this too, really.

then pal offers that and he glances up, a couple of rapid blinks as if processing to make sure what he heard wasn't being misconstrued.] You mean staying here?

[that... is very generous. it's sweet too, to offer him something that looks more like an actual, lived in home to spend some time in rather than the cot in the corner of the lab he's been making do with. heimendinger would give him an earful about his continued poor work/life balance, but really he never saw the point. why waste the space, even if it's not exactly comfortable? better to just make do than hike between a place he barely wants and the lab he knows he'd just crash in anyway.

but it's different when it's something like this. if he's honest with himself it wouldn't be so bad to have someone to see when he gets back, or even better, someone else to cook a meal for so he actually bother to do so, since it's a much better incentive to remember a meal. and maybe it's something pal might genuinely enjoy too, more company, instead of what is clearly a monument to a life that should hold another person no longer there.

he fiddles with the pen a few moments, glancing back down at the list before him because, as previously stated, having feelings is difficult. how do people do it and just share them like that.] I ah- if that were the case then yes, that would be a proper exchange. It... I'd appreciate it. It'd be nice to have somewhere other than the lab to sleep on occasion. Wonderful space for innovation but very drafty otherwise.

[Hmm, maybe Viktor should bleed into a vial, what would happen if they mixed paleblood and darkblood in one vial— no, no. That's asking for trouble before they've nailed down the basics, or at the very least, a gross mess. No, it'll be the mildly uncomfortable blood market, to start.]

I do like a mystery. Let's try working backwards — start with something we definitively have the answer to, and see what I can turn up with psychometry.

[He folds his arms loosely and leans an elbow on the table's stack of books, giving a nod that might be a touch too casual for "hey, want to live here?" Yes, precisely that — the bunker may be cramped but it isn't a cot shoved into the corner of a lab, at least? And as they already have too many plans to work on together, and again, a cot in the corner! Some not-insignificant part of Palamedes is genuinely concerned Viktor's cough will worsen sleeping on that dang cot, but more than that: it's company.

It's a better kind of cramped than staring at Cam's empty top bunk and resenting the literal ocean. There's that. He likes Viktor, his sense of humor and his whip-smart ideas — there's that, too. Here is a person he could plan an entire itinerary with and, like right now!, promptly ignore it and not mind at all. In a world trying to kill Sleepers day in and day out, that kind of easy company is worth more than he can articulate.

He'll workshop it. Generously, he looks at his bloodied fingertip with sudden fascination, so Viktor can think about this in Peace. Mmph, he started it himself, but calling it a proper exchange is so — there's more sentiment! How is that sentiment, and yet, it is!]

I'll move the books, [he offers; he's not going to make Viktor haul a crutch up to the top bunk, he's not an asshole.] Swap the bunks, get something for Rio...

[Make it abundantly clear that this isn't just for an occasional visit, but rather a tried and true Shared Space. A different shared space than his usual, admittedly, still shared all the same.]

[thank god pal didn't mention mixing the bloods because wow, viktor would want to know. yeah, yes, dangerous terrible idea but just... what would happen though? is the thing?

but no, instead he's jotting down 'working backwards' with an underline because he very much likes that idea and wants it kept in mind.] Deconstructing- a good call, with your knowledge of magic we'll have a much easier time there. I have an idea forming for a glove we could use too if our blood gem research bears fruit, I think with it we'd be able to augment your psychometry with aspects of blood types.

[but there's also feelings, and having pal make it clear this isn't just a 'crash on the couch' sort of situation does things to those feelings. he risks a glance over, swallows his nerves to offer a genuine smile.] ... thank you, Palamedes.

[he does tap the pen after that, tips of his ears going a touch red in embarrassment at being such a nerd about this.] Oh please, allow me to do that. She's terribly spoiled and I'm afraid it's mostly my fault.

[she trills at that and he glances over with an,] You are. You deserve it but you most certainly are. [yes, focus on the omen, a little easier.] I hope you don't mind I keep her out often. I know some do not with their omens but... ah, well, I enjoy her company.

[Oh, good, it's all coming full circle. Palamedes watches him write, nodding at the idea of gloves - very nice, now they're connecting the dots. Give him a glove and he'll touch anything, hell, he will touch just about anything without a glove, too— Yes, a good plan.]

Wherever you need me, I'm there. [Again, it's so very easy to fall into this, whether that be work or sentiment. He puts a hand on Viktor's shoulder and gives it a squeeze, brief, an unspoken understanding of the unexpected gravity of this new thing. He gets it; they don't have to talk about it right this second.

This omen banter is sweet, though, and makes him realize that if Viktor and Rio are going to stay here, then they should experience... Rocky: cool rat (bird). He gives Viktor's shoulder another, shorter pat, half-distracted (he truly does not mind Rio, this pat is meant to convey), and holds up a finger for him to wait. Then he shuffles over to the bunkbeds, (belatedly sticking his cut finger in his mouth on the way, to stop what bleeding remains) and turns on his heel to gesture at the ladder, where his own omen appears in a wisp of smoke.

She's large, is the main takeaway here. A large bird, appropriately grayscale just like her other half, who gives her an expectant look for a long moment before some kind of agreement passes between Palamedes and omen, and she ruffles her wings before looking elsewhere, evidently... bored?

This could have gone worse. Palamedes puts a hand over her terrifying taloned feet, like, affectionately. This is his very own big mean bird, see.]

This is- [sigh.] -Rocky, who has promised to behave herself. [tadaaaa...]

[the list can now add a glove they can modify- didn't allen tell him that miss stone did that kind of work? - and he does think now that proper gloves are probably a good idea when working with actual blood, weird or not. to be entirely fair he's never been a stickler for lab safety protocols, mostly because he grew up making do with whatever the hell he could get and just being very careful. that and his science mentor was maybe not the best role model in many scientific regards, thank you singed.

but yes, goggles maybe, certainly gloves. he makes a little note to remember that. actually maybe more rags too, between his cough and the blood sweat thing they... probably could use a good supply.

that said he is getting pulled pretty off track, especially when pal says that and squeezes his shoulder. he has a sudden lump in his throat, the action so much like jayce he's suddenly struck with how much he genuinely misses the man. it's a complicated matter too, not just the trench but the distance that started to grow between them even before that, as jayce's star rose and viktor stayed glued in the lab as he always did.

the last time he saw jayce the man was so hopeful about the hexcore, promising to stop heimendinger's destruction of it, a solid team like they had been. he doubts the way he misses jayce is anything like how pal must miss his lifelong companion but he still feels a level of sympathy spike in him. maybe empathy. he's usually better at burying himself and work and not thinking about what he's lost or stands to lose.

and right now he knows he should be focusing on what he's gaining, which really does promise to make all this nonsense far more bearable than it has been. so he swallows down that lump and lets it settle in the old aches he's sure every sleeper has, turning his attention to whatever it is pal is doing. moving to the bunk and- oh, his omen. he's been curious about that so he watches in interest, a little surprised with what comes out.

he's not sure what he expected but the fairly threatening looking bird is not it. that said he's rather glad for that, he's seen omens are an excellent form of protection - well, maybe not rio, though she's big enough to be intimidating at least.]

She is magnificent. [he says genuinely, because she really is. seriously, how often do you see a bird like that close up? he tilts his head as he regards her, hand to his chin.] Rocky. Did you know her in your world or is she one of the omens that formed as purely a reflection?

[Maybe they can make Palamedes a glove to hold this giant bird with, not that his skinny arms could actually hold up her weight—

(Maybe one day Camilla will come back, and Jayce will be here, and if Palamedes were privy to Viktor's distraction the sentiment dam would burst irreparably; later, later, one day - always.)

The bird, for her part, seems to wait until Palamedes is distracted by rubbing a thumb over some kind of smudge on one of her talons before looking at Viktor. The effect of her intense stare is made less intimidating, somewhat, by Palamedes muttering at the smudged talon, but: this is judgment.

A very long moment of judgment, until Palamedes looks up and nudges her leg with the back of his hand, like, please do not? Then he laughs, short and disbelieving.]

Reflecting what? [she's a big scary bird, he doesn't see it; he doesn't mind, but he doesn't see it.] Is this my mystique again? All of it went into her. It will shock you to know that we don't get a lot of birds on the Sixth.

[In a closed tupperware of a civilization, birds? Terrible thought. The Sixth has this specific bird and only this one, as of right now - that's all it can handle.

Rocky, in turn, has deemed this all very beneath her and rustles her wings again. Palamedes huffs and gives her another nudge, and she flaps up to nest in the top bunk and ignore them from up there. She's a peach, truly.]

If nothing else, that you like her is good for me.

[That takes care of omen introductions, tidily. He drums his fingers on the bunkbed ladder while he thinks of what else there is. Maybe one more list will help.]

Will you need anything else? I know my decor is only generously austere.

[maybe more a shoulder pad so rocky can perch there, pal probably won't fall over?? probably. maybe with practice. actually if he could use darkblood gems to mimic levitation he could make a leather glove that gives pal the leeway to hold her up. just atlus gauntlets but for falconry with noodle armed nerds.

viktor meets her gaze and wonders what it says about his life he's being judged by a bird. is he over thinking this? no, this is absolutely being judged by a bird. he's not even sure what he's being judged for, but somehow the look in her eyes says he deserves it. you know what? fair enough. he gets the distinct feeling she's like this with most people anyway, given how pal sighed over the meeting.

he muses for a moment before offering,] Reflecting a general and well deserved disdain for the situation you find yourself in? [again, that'd be fair. he just shrugs.] I've heard mixed reports on omens and what they mean or even are. I also met a sleeper who was a wolf and had an omen that was a dolphin, which... was delightful actually.

[he wonders how that wolf is doing. well regardless, his lips quirk when rocky decides to just go rest rather than deal with this, glancing over to see rio watching her curiously, tail thumping a little. he's not surprised, she always did like to watch the moths and firelights that made their way into the cave - and eat them, but she doesn't eat now so thank god. he wants to believe she wouldn't try to eat a whole ass raptor on him.

when asked about decor he has to laugh, a little bark as he sits back.] I am ah... not very picky. If you wouldn't mind me installing a small bar in the wall of any sort of shower you might have that would be appreciated though.

A — really? A wolf with a dolphin?

[Here's a fun tidbit: Palamedes is only about 90% sure what a dolphin is, so there's a nonzero chance his mental image of this wolf-Sleeper-plus-dolphin is even funnier than it's supposed to be. He makes a noise - a huh! like, wow... it really is crazy out there - and gives Rocky one last glance to make sure she's just, you know, chilling.

She is just chilling. Rio, please be nice to his mean bird, she's trying.]

Sure — of course. It's in the back. [He jabs a thumb at one of just two doors clustered in the far end of the place, one for the dull bathroom and the other he's been mostly using for storage. The books stacked haphazardly all over this bunkbed will go in there in a bit, along with maybe more from the kitchen table, you know.

So they can eat a meal like ordinary people (allegedly). Imagine that. Palamedes is imagining it right now, as he braces a foot on the bottom rung of the bunkbed ladder and leans back against the wall there. A whole normal meal, without picking at it disinterestedly because he had squids to draw and then it was cold and he wanted it even less -

Like, he will still draw squids at the dinner table. But it's different like this.]

I'm going to circle back and say disdain is too harsh. Don't pin me as the biggest fan of what they're doing here, of course, [is "they" the pthumerians? maybe] It's... middling.

[This is the most positively spun that anyone alive has ever said "middling," it's a compliment. Go Trench, it could be worse!!]

I'm still not certain if she could understand me or was just a very intelligent wolf. [viktor admits, more to himself. honestly the variety of sleepers has been something. he's met a robot too, which he had a bit of an easier time believing than the magic wolf with a dolphin, if he's honest.

rio does get up but thankfully not to cause trouble, instead just plopping her head into viktor's lap like attention now, please. he winces a little at the groan the couch makes- yes, getting rio her own place to rest soon. the last thing he wants to do is start his stay here by breaking pal's couch.

he runs his hand over her head idly, regarding the room again with the new perspective of living here. honestly it's not too different from what he's used too, his apartment in piltover was obviously much nicer but he preferred to keep things small and... well, cluttered with books and schematics. so already mostly there. once they inevitably get a chalkboard in here it really will be pretty much everything he'd want in a place.

feelings again. he distracts himself by glancing over as pal speaks, a soft huff of amusement.] I don't disagree. In a way I find this place and existence very beautiful, though I could do without the odd mind games here and there.

[really it's the invasive psychological aspects that occasionally happen that really bug him. shockingly he prefers his mind to be a safe haven he never needs to worry about being breached, and surprise! no longer the case. it's very irritating and also a little terrifying.

regardless his attention remains on pal, a moment's thought before he says,] Did you still wish to speak of Camilla? [he did say to ask later, and they seem to have wound down from work for the moment.]

[Ah, Viktor just talking to a wolf, that's not supposed to be funny and yet it completely is. Palamedes talks to skeletons, when the opportunity presents itself? So he has no room to judge and certainly no room to raise his eyebrows and look faintly amused, and yet! And yet.

—And good god, Rio; the pain of the couch draws his attention back over there (even Rocky in her Ignoring Everyone nest swivels her head around to stare), but it appears undamaged? Actually, he pushes off the wall to go sit on it, where he will maybe stop moving constantly for ten whole minutes. Remains to be seen.]

Right. If I could study corruption under a microscope without being subject to it, I wouldn't mind it at all.

[Which is the shallow interpretation, but he's there with Viktor on the subject of the mind games. He thinks about the hope orbs and that they exist at all, about having to bodily turn strangers around to not look at large bugs or else they'd go insane, about every time he's found himself apropos of this whole place shaking someone by the shoulders to tell them again that the horrors of this place are not their own fault.

Yeah, no. He's there. Trench could definitely improve its overall take. His ton of (rightfully earned, he thinks) confidence in holding himself together gives him plenty of extra time to vibrate out of his skin every time someone he cares about here is hurt or upset, which is basically weekly!

So, does he want to talk about Camilla. Yes.]

Where should I start? [a gesture, please, ask one of those trademark questions] I miss her like a whole piece of me is gone and I have complete and utter faith that she'll force her way back here eventually, so what would you like to know?

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