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 yes, this is already cheating. Palamedes' only, ah, spare novel is a trashy necromancer romance novel, but that's not book club material anyway if he only has the one.]

Now, that's a study group. We already are one of those. Still, I'll put a pin in it — just in case.

[When they cheat and do more research for "book club," inevitably. He does try to think of other hobbies, but what, uh... what hobbies exist, actually... He lets his head fall back on the couch again to ask the ceiling for advice; if nothing else, trying to Find a Hobby is a pleasant diversion from other, heavier topics.]

How about cooking? [This one is inspired entirely by how criminally underfed they both are, at a glance. Maybe, self-care is the hobby.]

[viktor sighs, cheating caught out. he has a point, he guesses. maybe one day they can just swap between reading the trashy romance novel because honestly if that's not an excellent book club i don't know what is. the world of trashy romance might be good for viktor.]

Oh, well... I suppose that's at least a useful skill. [and yeah, they both look like maybe they could use it.] I know how but I rarely do so, though... I have cooked for some people here a couple of times and that was enjoyable enough. It has more purpose that way.

[maybe this could be the hobby? it's better than something like sports or hiking in the many dangerous places that will kill them.] Do you know how to cook?

[viktor please read his original sequel he wrote mostly on wallpaper at first for reasons ty]

I put fruit in a bowl for you. No; I have no idea what I'm doing when it comes to actual cooking. And before you ask: Cam isn't a master chef, or anything like that. We grew up in a dormitory with a kitchen prime for sneaking into.

[So, perhaps cooking is the hobby. Sure, they have a... mini kitchen in here, essentially, but they are only two people.]

You're a man of many talents, [compliment! are not 99% of academics workaholics incapable of cooking, yes, Palamedes includes himself in that one,] You'd teach me?

It was very good fruit in a bowl with other things. [viktor huffs. he liked that fruit in a bowl. also he will read that the second he sees a bunch of writing on wallpaper and simply must know what the hell that's about.

that sounds about right though and he nods. the only reason he knows how to cook is fending for himself for a very long time, and it has been useful in this new place whee fending for yourself is the name of the game. so after a moment he nods.]

Of course, though I must warn you of two things. Most of what I know how to make is eh... not particularly gourmet. It will be useful here though, they are recipes very easy to substitute for what you can find. The second is I prefer spicy food when possible. Do you like that?

I know; you're weak to sweets. [He's going to remember this fact, do not worry. Luckily, he's rewritten most of his draft properly, in one of his too-many notebooks; it's somewhere in that mess, discoverable with patience.

Apropos of nothing, that is.]

Spicy food? Maybe. I don't know; Sixth food is fairly basic. [That, and Camilla usually has to bother him to finish Plain Vegetables? Maybe spicy food will finally convince him that meals aren't tedious interruptions.] I'll try anything once — just look away if I start crying.

[Real possibility. What are spices.]

One day I will make you sweetmilk. It is a drink from home. [that'll teach pal for saying he's weak to sweets. it's less sweet and more a warm, spiced milk drink and apparently sharing things you like with people you like is a whole thing.

basic makes him think he should probably try to tone it down a little at first.] You certainly need to be introduced to spices in general then. We will work on this. [it might even be nice.

he plops his head back against the couch again, a soft sigh as shifting puts his back into a more comfortable position.] You could draw more, that is supposed to be a good hobby.

[Yes, learn him about milk, that'll show him. Sentiment and spice all the way down, and for a second, Palamedes is a little disappointed he doesn't have an equivalent little something from home to share. The fruit cups were Fifth, after all.

Ah, well.]

You make it sound like you're prepping for something dangerous. I'll follow your lead.

[Drawing... is still based in having his head in a notebook, but perhaps a few dozen more Weird Squids could be useful. He hums.]

Maybe. A week or so ago I took up crafts for an afternoon — helped someone make a thank-you card. Very banal. Kind of fun.

Well... I would not say dangerous. But it could upset your stomach easily enough. [or make him cry, but really that just means it's good in viktor's opinion. it's a little odd to be thinking about cooking so much, especially the old, old recipes from a time he barely remembers but still retains something of. food from a country he never saw himself, repurposed in the classic, efficient zaun way. repurposed again here, just an endless, evolving chain.

he brushes the thought aside, closing his eyes and listening- rio seems to be napping now properly, rip pal's leg. she does make cute little noises as she does so maybe that makes up for it a little.]

Jayce played some sort of instrument, I think. [aka i know too much about arcane and there was a guitar of some sort in his blown up apartment/lab.] And he drew in his notes as well. So, why not? We certainly have the paper and pens for it. [he lolls his head to glance over.] What happens here that requires thank you notes?

[Rio is certainly cute enough that Palamedes graciously glosses over the fact that Viktor wants to feed him things so spicy that they'll give him a stomachache? Good god, man. He huffs out a laugh, quiet - she's napping!! - twisting his shoulders just far enough to lean his elbow on the couch cushions.]

Something about a daring rescue — I wasn't there, but I know where to find the good paper.

[Notably not the paper scattered all around this bunker, most of that is quite basic, he's not made of fancy stones to trade. Still: it was fun, except for the parts when it wasn't, but he's gotten past the petty bits.]

You didn't hear him play? [Shame, that would be a cheat code for his next suggestion,] You could learn an instrument. While I draw; that's three entire hobbies between us.

Hm, I shouldn't find thank you notes for a rescue mission charming. [he absolutely does though. the idea of just sending arts and crafts for that is kind of hilarious, he can't tell if this was meant truly sincerely or as a joke.

he shakes his head, a small shrug of,] I was quite standoffish early in our partnership. [they were friends but viktor was skittish, he can see that now. he trusted jayce but it was second nature to keep piltover at arm's length, even him.

thank gods he came here after easing up considerably on that. though now he does wish he had asked jayce more about it, maybe heard him play.]

Eh... I never had much in the way of creativity. [still, he supposes it couldn't hurt, exactly. mostly because he could easily give up and strip whatever the instrument is for parts.] What would I even play?

[Well, Palamedes had mostly gone along with it as a joke, but if it's going down in history as part of his manifest charm, he'll take it.

There's a note of honest surprise when he looks up at Viktor again, although he supposes there shouldn't be; Viktor has been nothing but kind and open to him... here, in this place he calls the least irritating, where he cooks food for people and lets Palamedes basically cuddle his sleeping omen. Aha, no, he gets it — still, it's difficult to imagine.]

What would fit in here? [it is kind of a limited space] Not a piano, or before long it would live here and we'd be in its way.

[Small... instruments... this is also not his area of expertise!!]

No horns or wind instruments, I do not have the lung capacity for it. [he points out, brow furrowing because he really doesn't know much about instruments either.]

String, then? Aren't those expensive? [this is really the blind leading the blind. it's kind of fun in a pointless way though, and for once they are just having a conversation that has nothing to do with deeply upsetting topics, endless questions or work. good for them.] I suppose drums are not. In the undercity people would simply hit whatever was available and made an acceptable sound.

I have no idea; I don't know anything about music.

[Maybe they can buy Viktor a little violin? That would be fun, maybe. Drums - Palamedes makes a face and looks at the rest of the room, like - they'd probably fit? But the noise of drums in a metal bunker without windows would probably kill them instantly. He shakes his head just a little, like, nah... the walls, bud...]

You wanted to go shopping for notebooks. D'you want me to come and investigate strings with you?

[The real hobby was trying to learn what hobbies are along the way.]

Neither do I. I assume musical education was also not part of your childhood then.

[god knows what zaun education system even was. finding dudes in caves and learning until they commit atrocities too much. he's a little surprised the sixth didn't have something, but maybe he shouldn't be. they clearly had other priorities in that world, especially for necromancers.]

Very well, if one of those notebooks is for drawing. I refuse to be the only in this 'hobby' business. [a pause then back to work related, as we all knew it would return to.] We could look for some components from our lists as well.

[He shakes his head again; no, no music, he was very busy taking classes about Bone Morph Resonances and Telemetry and so on. There were charts, and points and so on, but no musical instruments.]

I swear on my honor I will pick up a notebook solely for drawing. You'll get your squid with glasses as soon as I have a new pen in my hand.

[Adept's honor, etc. Picking up components from the work lists is technically not a hobby violation if they haven't begun the hobbies yet — he'll allow it.]

Let's do that, then. Do we have all the lists, or do we need to stop by the lab first?

[maybe they shouldn't have 50 different lists!! nah]

Very well, then we can look at string instruments. [he still is mostly imagining that will not come to pass, because the idea of playing an instrument seems silly to him. somehow more silly than pal making a hobby of drawing squids, sometimes with glasses.

viktor shifts, moving to retighten his brace before lifting himself up with his cane, careful not to jostle rio as he goes over to the notebook from before.] This has most of it, I believe. [he flips to that page, leaning in to squint at it.] We can always make more trips if needed, it will likely take some searching for some of it.

Which reminds me, I am going to have gloves made for our lab work, some sturdy leather I think will be useful in dealing with some of the materials. Is there anything you would need from a tailor besides? [they really are roommates, just asking what pal might want when he's out at the store vibes.]

[More trips, browsing the string instruments (with, hilariously, zero knowledge of what the hell to look for, good one nerds), picking up things from the tailor — it's downright domestic. The thought makes Palamedes' lips quirk up at the same time he thinks, not for the first time since waking up on the Emperor's own ugly goth sofa, that oh: he was supposed to be taking this seriously the whole time. Before Cam's disappearance and the, well, incident, this place had been a way station — now, though?

Well, now he has errands to run. Things to revolutionize. People to protect in earnest and more to not - disappoint again by dying, so. It's different.

But sentiment time is on pause, and so he looks down at his gray everything with a hum. More gray shirts? Could always use more gray shirts.]

No, not really. Wait — that's wrong; lab coats. Even better if the local tailors know a trick to dealing with bloodstains; resistance, maybe? Partial would do in a pinch.

[let's be real they will be bleeding on things and Palamedes isn't a connoisseur of laundry hacks, either]

Also, bonus: we'd look excellent.

Hm, I'll ask. Surely the hunters have tricks for such a thing, a preferred material. [viktor hums, picking up the discarded pen to jot that into the sort of haphazard list at this point. he adds 'bed for rio' too because really, he needs to get on that. she's going to either break the couch or pal's leg at this point, not that a bed will stop her occasionally with the latter.]

As we discussed, aesthetic is clearly a main priority. You have a mystique to maintain. [he says with a small smirk over, placing the pen down leaning against the table more for support than the crutch. that's actually something he likes about this place, small enough with enough Things that he could probably make it around just leaning on the walls and furniture. much easier.]

Do you think Rocky would like a proper perch? It would be easy enough to wrangle something up she could rest on. [his attention turns to the bird at random, glancing over to her, head tilting as he considers it.]

As long as it's not too heavy. [A hunter needs fairly more physical protection than they do mucking around in a lab, he figures; please no leather lab coats, he won't be able to move, and not even in a pleasant way like right now, with Rio asleep on him. Which, speaking of...]

I've never had more mystique than right now, I know.

[And, hmm, a perch for his mean bird. She's mostly been perching on the ladder for the bunk bed, or outside, but with the darkness and danger out there, maybe a dedicated perch...? He doesn't know anything about birds.

Rocky, hearing her name, deigns to look over at Viktor and lift a wing, which means - something? She's not screaming, which is good.]

Sure. I think we could figure something out for her.

Yes, no leather coats. I'd rather not look like we frequent undercity nightclubs. [very dry. that is an aesthetic and mystique for other people who are either looking to be intimidating or looking to be intimidating in a way that makes people want to spend the night with them.]

Quite, you know she is a rare mutation. There is likely no other creature like her in my world. Very mystical. [he informs, deeply fond of her. fond of pal too, allowing her to use him as her pillow.

his hand goes to his chin as he considers, maybe something like a coat rack, give it a sturdier base then different levels for her to perch on as she pleased? he has no idea what birds like but he's pretty sure perches are a thing. probably. maybe he'll research this, it seems unfair rio gets something and she does not.]

I helped someone make a cat tree once, I think the same basic principles apply. It just seems fitting she have a place of her own if Rio is to have one.

[Wow, please tell him about undercity nightclubs sometime, his entire experience with anything club-like ever has been one new year's talent show party in a bar, here. Add nightclubs to the new list of things Palamedes has never heard of in his life.]

Hmm. Which part is the mutation? I'd have to guess size, but I wouldn't know. [Being pink is his second guess, for the record; what are the Rio Facts.]

And I'll take your word for it; as long as she's happy with it, I'll be happy with it. What do we need for cooking? If you're handling the perch, I'll gather up more kitchen supplies. You might have noticed I have limited tableware and a few pots.

[oh how viktor would enjoy taking pal on an undercity trip honestly, if only to see him witness a proper nightclub for the first time, complete with all the skimpy outfits that still manage to be threatening and a customary bar fight. honestly it wouldn't shock him if some bars in the trench were similar, grim surroundings did tend to make people party harder when they had the chance.]

Her digestive system is the biggest part, my mentor studied how she could easily process and sustain herself on flora made toxic by fissure gases and general run off in the rivers. [he regards rio for a few moments, considering before he agrees.] I'm sure the size too. And the color. I've never actually seen another of her kind to know.

[knowing singed he isn't sure he wants to know exactly how rio was created. he very much doubts now there wasn't something ethically abhorrent to the whole thing.]

Oh... honestly I have just been making do with the bunsen burner and a pot myself. [he takes a moment to seriously consider it before saying,] A pot with a proper lid for slow cooking would be very useful. Maybe a proper frying pan and spatula? And knives, if you don't have any. I have a few I can bring over.

[New list: Bucket List: item 1. Experience the wildest bars imaginable to watch Palamedes go through several stages of shock at once and then try to write a fanfic about it. In the Sixth a very particular wing of the military learns to recite erotic poetry for, hm, diversifying the gene pool reasons when they go off-planet, but bars with fights? Novel! Exciting!]

Oh; I wouldn't have guessed. She's resilient, isn't she. [Fond, while he rests a hand on her sleeping head. Big and pink and eats anything, now this is a Creature. He wonders what the others must be like - little? Maybe green or something? But that's not a curiosity he's dying to have answered, given Rio is already here.

He blinks and looks up from patting her head, to give Viktor a look for cooking on bunsen burners. Sir. Luckily this revelation doesn't come with a tragic horror story of the worst lunch ever made, so he can still chuckle.]

Well, we're both hopeless. I'll ask someone with a real kitchen how to supplement ours; maybe they won't even miss a couple spatulas. [no, he won't. well maybe. probably not.] And a pot with a lid; got it. I have knives.

[please tell him once about the erotic poetry squad, viktor wants to know that exists in some world, thank you. one day they will find reason to go to a wild bar and viktor can in turn learn what fanfic is. this trip probably will not end in any trouble whatsoever. ]

Ah, yes. [viktor answers, smile taking a melancholy edge despite himself because if only that were the case. maybe in certain aspects she is but an unfortunate truth of her mutation was her shortened lifespan, which... yes, did not lead to much of a happy ending when it was all said and done.] It's good she does not eat here though, I have no idea how I would keep her fed. As a child I'd spend a good part of the afternoon gathering the fungi she ate to help keep up.

[she would eat him out of house and home, precious thing. then again, at least there were a lot of mushrooms in these parts.

he gets an innocent look back- what, you don't use bunsen burners for that? he heated up the coffee pot with a blow torch once, it's all about those lifehacks. but yeah, pal is right, they're definitely on the hopeless side here.] Ask them where to find a good collection of spices too, I do not even know what kind this world has. I'm afraid I doubt anyone I know would be able to help.

[it's a sad day when he's the most kitchen savvy of his social group, honestly.]

[Bucket list item 2: tales of the illustrious Thot Corps (not the real name), possibly delivered in a bar while someone is getting punched ten feet away. Nothing can go wrong.]

She's connected to you, so I suppose that has something to do with it. I know it isn't purely symbiotic — you would have to eat far more fruit to keep up — but something something, blood magic, yes? Typical answer for a legitimate question, as is customary.

[That said, the mental image of little kid Viktor mucking around in the fungi to feed his big pet - cute. Still lucky that collecting mushrooms all day isn't necessary here, though.

He adds Spices to his mental list, and adds a subsequent mental footnote to specify Spices That Can Hurt The Stomach, Tasty?, for Viktor's sake. He's putting in the effort.]

I'll get on it. I assume neither of us want to eat anything that secretly has powdered blood in it?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject