Viktor (
mehanizovati) wrote in
deercountry2022-03-31 12:24 pm
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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!]
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
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
...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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
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...]
no subject
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?
no subject
(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.
no subject
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.
no subject
[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!!]
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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.]
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—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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rio's tail thumps in a slow rhythm as he ruffles her frills, blissfully ignoring the trauma she caused the poor couch.] The blood magic would also be a plus if the whole corruption aspect didn't come with it. For us non-magic users it's quite the thrill, really.
[again, he can only imagine how jayce would react to it. all those lectures about magic from heimendinger just out the window without so much as a wave goodbye. his lips quirk faintly at the thought.
viktor considers for a moment what he would like to ask about it all- shockingly he has a great many things he'd like to know so it's more a matter of what would go first. after a beat he says,] I'd like to know more about her, I think. What was her reaction to this place? How did she cope with it?
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One day we'll conquer corruption and you'll be doing magic like you've always had it, guaranteed.
[He's completely earnest about this, and only more so when he thinks that this, too, would be the moment Camilla leans in to tell him not to get cocky. But why not, when the groundwork is solid and the plans are good...
Now it's kind of lucky that Camilla is the main topic, hmm. Well, he remembers everything, so-]
She came to find me first thing, [he holds up a finger, like yes, he knows how predictable this next part will sound, hush in advance,] Back then I was spending most of my time camped out in the Archives with a soup thermos and a handful of spare pens.
[It was great, she even tolerated him getting book dust all over her when he went in for the Mega-Hug. The memory of it draws out a small smile, a touch bittersweet.]
Her time here wasn't very long — she set up most of this, [he pats the couch cushion for emphasis,] Then we mostly mucked around looking for interesting things to investigate. Besides how the whole place wants to slowly kill us, it was like being kids again, just finding the most interesting buttons to push to see what would happen. We were both avoiding the worst topics — being squids and other assorted crap facts, you know.
[That's just Sixth of them. He shrugs, because it was not necessarily an issue until she vanished again and those ties were left undone.]
She didn't have to tell me she was stressed out by this place for me to know. We kept busy. Once, we went on a boat ride to look at crabs. [generous description of the Emperor's disastrous boat trip: part one] She uses swords, I should mention, and spent the rest of her time practicing with those. You should see her at it; I always told her I was lucky to make necromancer adept, or else I'd have lost her to the upper echelons of the military years ago.
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hm, he's starting to sound optimistic now, which is unfortunate.] I will hold you and our projects to that.
[they can definitely do something, it's just surviving all the fun stuff inbetween that's the problem.
ah, he can't help but chuckle- he did the same honestly at first. who could blame them, learning as much as you could quickly was the ideal way of handling things, in his opinion.
but there's the aspect of these two that really get to him, just how long they've been together. it's incredible to him, to have someone for that long, so integral to each other's lives without growing resentful or stifled. he would have been skeptical of it before jayce, who taught him that yes, sometimes you do just find people like that. that was only ten years, but this? an entirely different level.
the avoiding topics doesn't really surprise him either, despite their talk now. it does tell him something about camilla though, that maybe she's more similar to pal than he was imagining. so fa the picture is a tale of opposites in many ways, scholar and warrior, friendly and a bit more serious.]
... crabs? [because ok, what?] I admit it's mind boggling to me to think of having someone placed at your side and remaining for so long. I imagine it must have been a frustrating situation for her, a place where protecting you was so tricky. Given how matter often happen at random here, there really is no perfect defense, is there?
[getting just plopped into catcombs or weird jungle games or the ocean. he can picture just how endlessly frustrating that would be, especially now that he's grown quite fond of palamedes and would share in the upset of his getting hurt in some way. he's just such a bright spot in this place, it's incredibly irritating the many ways that could be dimmed.
probably a morbid line of thought. he refocuses.] How long has it been since she left then?
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Deal. I won't let you down. Or anyone else here, for that matter.
[To give himself and then carry around a personal obligation to improving lives in this town is perfectly normal, and should he run himself ragged eventually — well, he has this couch to relax on.
So:] Crabs.
[Crabs!]
There isn't, though. No. We didn't talk about that, either.
[But it was certainly on her mind, he has no doubt about that. And if something had happened to her while she'd still been here, Palamedes knows he wouldn't have been able to react in any kind of rational manner, so — in that regard, they're about the same. Protecting anyone in this place is tricky, yes, that's one of Trench's universal truths.
It's simpler to think of doing anything at all here as high risk, high reward, and avoid the worst parts as much as he's able. Keep the safety of others at the forefront without obsessing to the point of mutual loss — a fine line. It doesn't escape him that Viktor is apparently concerned with protecting him, in some way; it's sweet, and Palamedes has the exact same thought process. He's attached now, he'd more than likely get a little irrational if something happened to Viktor, too.
He elects then, for the time being, to not tell Viktor about the time a sea monster maybe, kind of— swallowed him. Another time. But that covers a chunk of the time Camilla has been absent, and so if he briefly does a little finger counting...]
It was just after new year's, so... three months, almost? I'll admit I spent a few days in denial, back then.
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[viktor offers a crooked quirk of the lips at that, and does take a moment to consider how much responsibility pal is probably used to having. the necromancer for this planet of his? viktor wonders exactly what that really entails. another question to add to the pile one of these days.
crabs. his brow raises.] Are they really that interesting? [to be fair zaun probably has horrible, mutated by pollution crabs but viktor's still not really seeing the appeal of looking at those either. so what, they have extra limbs and some are probably the size of a large dog, welcome to the zaun run off.
he nods.] I suppose there isn't much to be said regardless. Venting, I suppose? [a shrug. maybe just mental preparation that yes, things will likely go wrong eventually. maybe he should have been more open with jayce and sky about that, now that he thinks of it. jayce especially was taking his illness hard.
rio pulls away after a few more pats, going over now to sniff at pal properly. after a few moments she seems satisfied and plops down at his feet. viktor shakes his head with a small smile, one that drops a touch at three months.]
In a way it seems cruel, to have someone here and lose them rather than be here alone. It's easy for me to navigate feelings about the people I left behind- there and here, they are two separate lives. [he frowns, considering it for a moment more before saying,] I suppose in the end it really doesn't change anything, does it? Just the hope of seeing them again. We are here and they are not.
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Trust, then. Trust and sentiment, and he gives a mock-guilty shrug; yes yes, we. Our. Of course.]
You're right, it's down to us. Luckily there's no one half as brilliant this side of the ocean.
[And crabs are not very interesting at all, they just pinch onto his clothes and hang there, useless and pesky, until someone else rescues him. This is not too embarrassing to share, but he's distracted by Rio coming over to- approve? Is this formal Rio-approval? Everything's coming up Palamedes, indeed— he shifts to lean down, hand outstretched -
To his credit, he glances up at Viktor again, like, may he? Can he do this thing?—before he gives her a well-deserved pat with all the airs of someone who does not really interact with animals much ever and is doing his best to learn. Wow!! Rio!!
Ah, but he can multitask:] Venting. And I don't think I need to tell someone as smart as you that there's only one of you, between here and there.
[Here he is doing it anyway, though. He's sure every Sleeper knows this one, the compulsion to separate Here from There, he's even done it himself. Still, Viktor is right: the hope is the same. The reality is the same, a bittersweet thing that frames so much of how to live here, differently.
But they agreed, and so Palamedes' only-one-you is merely a reminder: talking about it is allowed.]
For what it's worth, I'm glad you're here.
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it's a nice feeling. he does have to chuckle at that statement.] Precisely. What could wrong, eh? [do not say that. it's magic science, going wrong in dramatic ways is what it does.
he doesn't know that
yetso he feels rather confident that the worst that will come of this is failure to make anything useful. even that he thinks is very unlikely, they've already got so many good ideas going he is very confident at least one will bear fruit, which will keep leading to more and more growth.at the look viktor nods.] Go ahead, she enjoys being pet. [he confirms, and to prove it that pat gets a happy tail thump. she's such an odd mix of lizard and amphibian its hard to tell what her skin will feel like but it seems a little more on the lizard side.]
Mm, we could spend a great deal of time discussing identity, memory and the shape of it all- I think it's easier just to say I agree. [he doesn't mind philosophical but honestly? he prefers to simply work with the moment and the facts.] Honestly I can't say if I'm impressed or concerned with your ability to compartmentalize with all this Camilla business. A useful skill, but likely not a very comfortable one.
[and as it turns out he'd prefer pal have an easier time of his life. ridiculous. especially if he goes around saying things like that, making viktor duck his head with a chuckle.]
For what it's worth I am glad you nearly ran into me catching those orbs. [he glances up again leaning his elbows against the table.] And I am glad you are still here. [rather than vanishing as well.]
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Actually— nope, he can't sit still for ten minutes, he's already scooting to the edge of the couch and then down to the floor, leaning back into the cushions, to do his part in contributing to how spoiled she is.
He glances up from behind all these frills, eyebrow raised at Viktor's completely accurate assessment of his compartmentalizing. If Viktor were anyone else he might be a little bothered at probably the most piercing take he's gotten so far? Mostly, he just gets polite silence about Camilla. That Viktor is getting away with it is credit to Palamedes' fondness for him, certainly. Hmhmhm...]
I'm... practical. [Most Of The Time, and everything.] She'd give me hell if I fell apart in the interim, and I'd hate to disappoint. If you can't tell that I'm a complete mess, I must be handling it deftly.
[Joke? Maybe? He is adept at holding it together, except for when he isn't, so this is more or less true.
Now, that's two nice things Viktor says in a row, which soften him completely in an instant. He can't honestly remember the last time he felt relaxed enough to sit on the floor and pet animals? Not, obviously, the specific circumstances, but he's lived through so many high-stress events in quick succession. Personal connection and emotional self-care really do work, wow...
Well then. He does something stupid-looking with his shoulders, trying to point at the couch behind him but also not stop petting Rio - please just go with it.]
I'm not going anywhere, if I can help it. In the meantime, it's a well-known fact that all kitchen chairs are hellishly uncomfortable after a mere ten minutes, and the couch is free now. [Ahem!! Get over here and Relax, it's a brand new experience.]
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[he nods along, a one shouldered shrug as he says,] You've already opened up several fascinating areas of research in just a few hours of conversation, I would say you are doing very well in that regard. [another pause and he says,] It is the power of momentum, I suppose. If you keep moving the building force helps along, eh?
[maybe not the most healthy way of dealing with things but it's worked. a beat and he asks,] I'm curious what you think Camilla's advice in all this would be. She seems similarly practical. [moving forward still? he knows jayce would tell them to take a break and feel things, probably, which sounds terrible to him. then again jayce wasn't always the type to give himself said break anyway.
that offer makes him blink, and yes, his back is killing him. that's kind of normal, since he's had to make do with a brace he's hobbled together in a rush, but still. rio trills in agreement and viktor huffs, pulling himself up by his crutch to come over.]
Have you died here? [relaxing topic. he takes a seat, pauses for a moment before moving to loosen his knee brace a bit. not take it off, but in the spirit of relaxing he's making an effort.] Not to dredge up bad memories, I've just been curious what it entails- or maybe more so I want to know if there's any truth to this... rebirth they keep saying.
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Camilla would default to me, [he says, with a light shrug. There are some aspects of their necro-cav relationship that lean into what could be called tradition - that is, that the necromancer calls the shots in times of serious action - and it's more comfortable to fall back on those old habits even in a place removed from the Nine Houses entirely. In both scenarios it leaves Palamedes to decide what to do in all this; the difference is simply that were she here, he wouldn't have any trouble. She defaults to him — she also tells him when he's being an idiot and likely to get them both killed.
So that's fun. The situation.]
Momentum is what I've been running on, [he can concede that much. It's been working, and his handful of treasured people here stop him from drifting too far, more or less.
He waits until Viktor has settled on the couch and then leans his head back on the other seat, looking up at him with - for a moment - pure exhaustion. This is the thing he just decided not to talk about, and here's Viktor, asking him in such a way that he can't just lie to him. That it's this over the experience itself that bothers him is another one of those handy compartmentalizing tricks, but - Viktor would find out eventually, anyway. Even if the Sixth were not committed wholeheartedly to The Truth, all Viktor has to do is catch a witness giving Palamedes a haunted look behind his back, and the jig is up.
So, alright. He makes another face, looking up at the ceiling.]
You're fine— I'd have told you eventually. It's true, what they say about rebirth. What irks me is how long I was, you know, a squid again. I'm not sure about the average expectation when it comes to... time lapsed, let's call it, but I'm fairly certain mine was abnormally long. The dumb fucking ocean— [nope. no. he's fine, he's taking a breath,] —has a mind of its own.
[He traumatized at least one teenager by taking so long to wriggle out of the depths again! Truly, what the hell!]
It was dark. I wasn't aware of myself and then I was. There's no discernible trick to it, and I'm not eager to go through it again to figure one out.
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Ah right, would that be the necromancer's job in this partnership? [makes sense, and he can't help but wonder how many of these partnerships are like pal's and how many are a disturbing imbalance. call him pessimistic but he has a hard time believing there aren't plenty who don't treat the bond with the same respect. he is also incredibly jaded for some wild reason. might be all the classism an biases thrown at him. weird.
ah momentum, and viktor feels a touch guilty when he sees the look that crosses pal's face. he feels he might have put a bit of a bump in the road there without meaning to. he bites his tongue from apologizing, especially since his motivations were purely selfish and based on his own fixations with death.
better to listen to it with the gravity it deserves, tapping a finger idly against his knee brace as he takes it in.]
Sometimes I wonder if we are lucky or not with this rebirth business- maybe more so if I am lucky or not. For example, should I die to my illness what happens then? Do I return to a fixed point and simply die again, then again? Does the time get shorter, is there some miracle where it all simply goes away for the price of one death?
[his lips thin, that is... much more than he's ever said outloud to anyone. equal exchange he supposes, offering a vulnerable spot for poking at one of pal's unintentionally. he glances back down with a humorless smile.]
We'll just have to make sure nothing like it happens to you again at least. What is all this research business for if not creating a better world, or at least better tools to live in it? Less... oceanic whims. [he can't even say that dryly, more with a level of bitterness at some of those whims.]
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Ideally, the whole thing is perfectly balanced, but most people will hear that one person protects the other in the immediate, the physical, and assume the rest of the dynamic from there.
[Other necromancers and cavaliers not excluded from this, if some of the other Houses' adepts and their partners are anything to go by. Palamedes only needed to see the Third Princess bite her cavalier's fingernails off for a rush of thanergy once to understand that whole thing really well.
But nothing for it now; some relationships are innately more fucked up than the others, and isn't that true of every kind? Some of their peers consider him and Camilla to be codependent weirdos who double as easy pickings - it is what it is.
Here he is, angry at the ocean, and Viktor blindsides him completely with this theorizing about his own death. Palamedes' brow creases, still frowning up at the ceiling, as he thinks about dying over and over and over again, in pain, because of the whims of some distant, unconcerned observer. His stomach twists for the horror of it and for the memory of the last time someone tried to ply him with this, as an excuse. Hmm.
Yet Viktor is different, and Palamedes couldn't possibly understand the experience, but he thinks he understands... the desperation?
Is that what it should be called, to wonder if dying would be lucky? He thinks, Shit, and then, fuckshit, for good measure.]
I can't tell you not to find out, [he manages, after a moment. Does he want Viktor to get himself killed? Absolutely not! But likewise, well — it's not up to him. But also, please don't find out.] I can tell you that I came back with the same scars as I went out with, though.
[Offered mildly, like, that's the best he can do. The scars on his ankles from pulling out bloodstones, that he'd shown the other day - older than his recent dip back into the dead sea, whatever that means.
Viktor has to go and say these things circling around protecting him again, though, and god, is this what it's like when he gets going? How does he focus on being angry at the ocean and having Complex Emotions about Past Events in the face of this? Jeez.]
Less oceanic whims. [Deal, again. The topic of death is, eh, tiring? Not that he's changing the subject, but it is actually exhausting, and he tilts sideways until his shoulder bumps Viktor's leg just so, like the point of contact alone can alleviate the death stress. He's got this.] Just don't go too far ahead of me.
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me unable to resist. slaps a wrapped bow on this