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

[just a skull. viktor bites his lip against mentioning it sounds like a weird skull mascot contest, which truly is grimly delightful. he's sure it's all far darker and entrenched in history but sometimes it's nice to just chuckle over every house wanting a cool skull.]

Ah, well that sounds like a very dignified brand skull, congratulations. Understated, really.

[honestly he'd love to know what the other skulls looked like and would have happily kept on that line of questioning if he wasn't a tad preoccupied with other, more pressing matters. like making it difficult for pal to give a straight, easy answer, a little quirk to his lips because he's very aware of what he was doing. to be fair you can't have a chalkboard heist without being a little bit of a shit, so surely that much isn't a surprise.]

I have this unfortunate drive to learn about you whenever I can. [he answers, breath a little hitched between all this and his other moving to the side of pal's neck, thin fingers grazing over his jaw.] And I suppose tradition can be important. I don't... wish for you to miss out on anything simply because I am ignorant to it.

[that gets a press of their foreheads together for a moment, eyes closed just to enjoy the brief quiet before he's pulling back again. instead of kiss his hand finds it's way up to pal's jaw, running a thumb over his bottom lip in fascination, still mapping new and lovely ground.]

[Oh, he's got sass about the skulls, of course he does. Maybe cool skulls are very important, actually, and no it doesn't matter in the slightest, but the Sixth one is probably the best. Regardless. Despite all odds.]

It's only unfortunate when you ask about the skulls, [he says, with a little grin. Well - there are other Imperial Facts that have likely been odd enough to call "unfortunate," too, but still. Perhaps he'll doodle some off-model skulls later, if Viktor asks him very nicely.

And it's still not easy to answer him, but Palamedes stays quiet a moment longer just to look at him up close, savoring the brush of a new, different kind of touch over his lip. It's still remarkable how such a small thing can so completely command the whole of his attention, but ah, is it small? It's Viktor and the look in his eyes and the warmth and curious intimacy - it's plenty.

After a moment Palamedes lets go the back of his neck to curl fingers around Viktor's wrist. First,]

There's really nothing. Only our military has to worry about proper courtship. [Don't think too hard about that, particularly not when Palamedes lifts Viktor's hand to press a kiss against the center of his palm, then another, lower.]

Are there undercity traditions? [And another kiss, to the inside of his wrist, before he's tragically obstructed by sleeve and glances up to meet his gaze again.] I could make you more sandwiches.

My apologies but I am going to ask more about the skulls. I must know what skull every house decided on and if you suspect there was a very tense meeting about it between the houses. For that matter did your Oversight Body have to meticulous vote on an overall skull design while arguing the entire time?

[he's sorry, he really is, to be fair the undercity is full of ammo to poke fun at and pal is welcome to. he just really needs to enjoy this while it lasts, and preferably in front of one of the necromancers who will not be offended by it.

pal does an excellent job silencing him though, the first kiss to his palm getting a faint color to bloom again on his cheeks- always the sweet moments that undo him, damn it all, and pal excels at those. he's never stood a chance and that fact is becoming painfully obvious.]

Military? [he manages distractedly, already losing that train of thought to focus on pal's lips at his wrist, pressing forward to catch the tail end of pal's quip about sandwiches like a retaliation.

his lips quirk against pal's as he pulls back, offers,] Embarrassingly that jam sandwich is when I realized my feelings were not strictly platonic by any means. But no, undercity dating is eh... well, we'd be taking it slow by that standard. Very 'take what you can get while you can get it' attitude. Unless you want to start a bar fight to impress me, which I recommend against.

I don't know; I wasn't there. I hope so, or else arguing is a newer addition to Oversight Body behavior, and that I would take personally. [And also, hush; Viktor gets one skull question answered before Palamedes hums and squeezes him around the waist - fortunate that they're both twigs or this would be beyond his feeble necromancer arms. Hmm,] Ask me again about the skulls later.

[And the military, and oh, a kiss for sandwiches?—Ah. Now there's the ammunition he's earned, Viktor vs. the inherent romance of a jam sandwich, and he grins like he's never heard anything more interesting in his life. He'd hate to interrupt, so his next delighted-by-sandwich-news kiss is to Viktor's cheek with a smug little chuckle.]

I want to impress you, but if I started a bar fight someone would snap me in half— purely by accident, even, I imagine. Realistically speaking. I'll think of something else.

[A bigger sandwich with more jam in it— no. Well, he won't throw out the idea entirely. He releases Viktor's wrist to cup his cheek, leaning in to kiss him without any errant tease and with nothing but relentless tenderness; a lengthy kiss, all told. He's a little in his head, thinking about "while you can get it" and from earlier, "the fleeting nature of the Trench," so-]

I am going to stick around, you know. You'll be the most impressed by my continuity.

Fine, I am making a mental note as we speak. [absolutely is, he will learn what each skull looks like at least. he's not sure if it's better or worse than the house crests of upper echelons of piltover- okay, it is better purely because he finds it amusing and properly thematic other than obnoxious. then again his good mood might be pal-adjacent, a direct correlation to proximity even.

part of him just wants to rest his head on pal's shoulder and stay like this for a quiet moment. the rest is happy to drift in the present as they are, and it wins out.

something else he's allowed to do he realize, reach up to brush at pal's hair, a curious hum at the texture.] I think we'll make do, in a shocking betrayal of my origins I do not find senseless violence attractive. Innovative ideas and saving me with magic wards when we first met? I am impressed. Consider that box checked.

[and he's happy to just melt into the kiss, letting go of any other intentions other than the simple moment of it. his hands rest on pal's shoulders and yes, that statement hits him when it's made, less with the promise and more with the understanding, a reassurance he would never think to ask for but pal still realizes would be welcome.

that's the oddest mix of sweet and clever that he's come to realize is very pal in a nutshell. a boy with such big ideas he set on a course and made it happen, because he saw he could help, viktor thinks. it's fascinating but more so it's the kind of warmth viktor can't help but covet, want to drag and keep close and bear his teeth at any threat to it.

he believes pal will stick around, if he has the choice. he also knows good things get snatched up and away quickly, one way or another, so his answering kiss reflects something like gratitude mixed with a fervent note, that grip on his shoulders a little tighter, keeping him close. tasting the words in his mouth before forcing himself to pull away.

he just regards him for a moment, a small smile.] You did when I rudely ignored your messages. So will I, you know. I'd be a fool not to.

[Oh, hmm, that's a point about the magic wards. Palamedes makes a face, like, ah- well that was a different context, anyway.]

I can impress you more than once.

[In fact, maybe that's the goal! Not everything can be magic wards and hypothetical bar fights, after all, and he exists firmly in the space of 'Viktor deserves happiness.' A sandwich, for example, is impressive...

No matter; he'll muddle through it eventually. Viktor all but clings to him in the next kiss, and he thinks, ah - so there is something there, in the implications that nice things are somehow transitory. Another idea he wishes he could put in a box and smash with a hammer, or something, just to be sure he's made the depths of his devotion clear. That might be dramatic; so be it, he supposes, because he knows that kind of fear isn't one he can excise entirely, anyway.

He can tilt closer to Viktor, pressing their heads together once more, letting the same assurance wash over him. That Viktor will stick around too is something he also believes, and given what they've done for each other even before the past, hm, hour or so makes him realize he's believed it all along. Even when Viktor ignored his messages, which makes him roll his eyes as affectionately as he can. He certainly didn't approve of hiding the tether to protect him from it, but it's hard to ignore the intentions there.]

I'm a busybody, [he says, and debates adding your busybody, but that's almost too much cheese,] And I trust you— even when you're running away to the docks.

[Fool behavior. Please do not repeat.]

Belatedly, let's sit. Somehow, you've distracted me into standing around at the kitchen counter for this long.

Of that I have no doubt. [he means to end it off with something cheeky, maybe about the new notebooks to the collection being impressive or something along those lines. instead it's just a simple statement of fact he can't help.

viktor exhales in something like amusement, untangling enough to take pal's hand and lead them to the couch instead of the kitchen.] As it turns out kissing you is an excellent, mutual distraction. We share the blame there.

[he leans a little on pal in lieu of a crutch or a wall, just enough that the trip there is an easier one and he can plop down on the old couch. rio has since gotten herself her own bed, probably not unlike a beanbag she's happy to curl up in and save the couch for utter destruction. it's likely one of the only real changes to the place aside from whatever notes he'll leave around at random- sometimes to say he's going out, often to share an idea that suddenly came to him about their mutual research when he wasn't around, some fact he learned of the place he thinks pal would be intrigued by.

he tugs at pal's hand to come sit with him, not yet giving up his grip on pal's hand.] When did you realize? Not from a sandwich, I imagine.

That's fair. I'd hate to be boring about it— can you imagine? The total mortification.

[He shakes his head, mostly in the joke; like, it would definitely be embarrassing to abruptly realize he's actually very boring and bad at kissing, but hah - this is good, actually. But off to the couch, sitting close enough to bump him affectionately; again, for sandwiches.]

You never know; we could both have a thing for jam. [haha,] No; not from a sandwich. That night was when everything fell into place, I'd say— not that I endorse scaring the shit out of me for every important emotional realization, please.

[But it did work, coincidentally; the fear of almost losing him and the relief of not, indeed— Palamedes looks down at their joined hands and then sits back, taking in the moment and the little bunker, all the evidence of the connection they made even earlier than this. Hmm.]

You wanted to show me the world, [he says, lifting their hands to kiss the back of Viktor's.] I'm a sucker for a big declaration.

Somehow I feel you are a quick learner regardless. [flirting again by the mild tone of it, as he intertwines their fingers and thinks of that dramatic night they sat here.

he's not particularly surprised to hear that was the moment, not when he emotions ran so high and their connection is what chased the creature away for good. he runs a thumb over pal's knuckles like an apology.] No, I won't- [a pause] I'll try not to. Work in progress, as we said. Being eh... vulnerable is difficult, but you do have an incredible ability to make me want to try regardless.

[he glances up, lips quirking at the kiss to his hand, a little surprised that meant as much as it did to pal. it's something he makes a note of, a list of things he really does want to give him while they have the time. declarations, moments like that.] I still want to. Fireworks, comfort food- we'll get there, eventually. Bit by bit.

That's one of my top five attributes, actually. [Another itemized list incoming- no, no. Some other time. He's quiet for a thoughtful beat, then,] You don't need to tell me everything; I wouldn't ask you to do that. But when you need me, I'll drop everything. Don't let this place convince you otherwise.

[Like the tether nearly did, and like he's sure other Trench horrors could do with ease. He's expected nothing in this place to be easy and he hasn't been proven wrong yet. If repeating how much he'd do for Viktor helps in those terribly uncertain times, well - he did say his continuity is impressive.

That said,] For what it's worth, we didn't actually manage to finish comfort food today. 'Bit by bit' might be overzealous.

[Hmm, but he leans over to press a kiss to Viktor's temple anyway, unable to resist chuckling by the end of it.]

Well, I love a good challenge. I asked a friend about finding some fireworks, by the way; he seemed to enjoy the idea.

That I can believe. In fact I am more concerned you put your own needs to the side in order to be stalwart for those around you. [viktor says a little too simply for what is kind of a personal thing to bring up about someone- it's just an observation, potentially a fact potentially an unneeded concern, so he sees little reason in dressing it up as anything else.] But... thank you, for your patience. I hope you're aware the same is true for you, should you need it.

[comfort food is an easier discussion by far, one that gets a soft snort.] You tried it, that counts. You do not have much of an appetite though, I notice. Is it the food here?

[habit? being used to whatever weird foods the sixth had and still adjusting? part of viktor can't help a pang of worry it's a sign of illness, though crushes that easily underfoot until there's actual evidence to back it up.

the temple kiss gets a hand at pal's jaw again, the calculating press of fingers like he's learning the shape of it with a small smile.] Ah, the party is on then. I could probably make some if needed, I don't know the recipe off hand but it can't be that difficult. [he made a bomb on a pirate ship once so like. fireworks are just that only for fun right.]

I don't do that. [he does that.] I— hmm. Thank you; I know.

[Well, now he has to think about whether or not he does that— and if it ultimately matters if he does, if he's doing just fine in the end. But that one he can recognize as a thought that could easily spiral into remarkably poor self-care, so - alright. He's pretty sure he doesn't do that, but he'll evaluate.

Comfort food, then. Hmm!] I've never had much of an appetite; Camilla usually has to bother me to clear a plate. Who knows, maybe it's the food back on the Sixth; you haven't pitted me against these allegedly very spicy foods of yours, yet...

[He'll steam out of his ears for real, probably, but maybe the secret to getting an appetite is being traumatized by spicy food. Who can say. He makes a face, thinking of his rowdy friends and how many of them might do something utterly stupid with fireworks, hmm-]

Can you make small ones? Just in case; I can't carry the guilt of half a dozen people singing off their eyebrows at this party, and that's being generous.

[viktor quirks a brow, more curious than trying to imply he does indeed do that. he imagines he'll see for himself first hand soon, with their lives now thoroughly intertwined. he strokes his thumb over pal's jaw a final time before letting go, hands to his clunky knee brace to unfasten it as he speaks,]

I will start small, eh... baby steps, they say. Purely because I like you, anyone else would be thrown into it headfirst. [he remarks about future spicy meals, because he is at least a little bit an asshole that way. the brace comes off, plunked to the side so he can rub his knee then turn properly to face pal.]

I can, though I can also make sure the larger ones are only handled by us anyway. Maybe I'll figure out how they make... what are they? I saw them in Piltover, the sticks you light the end of and they spark like small fireworks. They seemed safe enough.

[Hmm, yes, he's never done that thing ever. He shrugs, like— they're both going to have to see, actually.]

I'm flattered; here I thought you might throw me in headfirst because you like me. I seem to recall you suggesting I cook for the Ninth, which is outright torture.

[Terrifying. Maybe spicy food was going to be affectionate torture, who can say. Maybe it still will be. He manages to wait until Viktor turns to face him before reaching for both of his hands to thread their fingers together; what better way to handle his errant fidgeting than with hand holding, after all.]

Paul— the friend in question— says he knows a thing or two about handling explosives, so I'll trust him with the larger ones, too. But only him. [no offense @ other friends, but whew] And- pocket-sized fireworks? I'm intrigued.

Oh did you think I wasn't serious? I still want you to do that. It is being a good host, no? [his tone is stage innocence, up until the little quirk to the corner of his mouth. hey, he'll help with the cooking, he'll even do the bulk of it.

kind of hard to keep that up when pal's taking his hands. he's hesitant for only one moment before letting his legs drape over pal's lap, getting perilously close to cuddling, shock and horror. it lets him get a little closer though besides, which is a nice perk, considering the fireworks situation with a hum.]

That is good- really I am more concerned about attracting monsters than anything. With those at least, if we're talking firecrackers and cherry bombs then someone might lose a finger. [so... maybe not those.] Oh yes, those are examples. Little things you light and throw a short distances away rather than set off into the sky. Very popular with teenagers and delinquents.

So it is proof. I had a feeling. [Proof that being liked and being heckled are overlapping items, indeed. Palamedes affects a sigh, very put-upon, but that's all; Viktor is lucky his legs are a decent distraction from further embarrassing cooking objections.]

I could put down a few wards. [Hm,] Not as involved as the one you saw, back then; I'm not going to bleed out of every pore in the middle of a party.

[Imagine, so inconvenient. And, like, yes - these are blood wards he's talking about, too, but far less problematic to set up. Teens and delinquents, though - good news, that's all of his friends.]

'Cherry bombs' sounds... fun? Adorably fun, for an explosive. Could I request those, specifically?

Edited (god) 2022-04-24 07:14 (UTC)

It is part of your new hobby. Cooking was one of them, was it not? [yup, nailed it, getting a little picked on means he cares. genuinely though, most people get polite and a touch careful instead.

he tilts his head, torn between wanting to see more wards and the bleeding business. ah well, blood magic. complicated as always.] Will you let me watch you put them up? I didn't get a good look last time.

[and he lets go for a moment, raises his hand to make a little circle with his thumb and forefinger about cherry sized as a visual aid.] They are small, like this, with a short fuse attached. So... like a little fruit. [and back goes the hand holding.] Of course you may, this is part of my showing you new things, yes? Those should be simple enough to make regardless.

Call me a perfectionist, but I like to keep my side projects in the background until I know they're view-worthy. [He tuts, like, and his cooking is not view-worthy, right now? But the affectionate teasing definitely gets him in a good way, ultimately, so he rewards it with another temple kiss. The sass... is cute, actually. Continue.]

You can watch, sure. I mean, they'll be just outside, so I'll show you where not to step.

[This party is going to have a real serious boundary line, ahem. Palamedes nods, and even manages to resist lighting up in fireworks-based delight for a whole few seconds while Viktor explains. He wiggles his fingers in the hand-hold and squeezes Viktor's hands, amused.]

You're indulging me and I won't say no. The next party— or lack thereof— has to be your idea.

Bah, the experimental phase has it's own merits. [but he's ultimately weak and the temple kiss gets,] I'll take the lead so you do not need to worry your friends will go home unfed. I truly do not know how I became the expert cook out of far too many people I know, it is truly a sad state of affairs all around.

[but wards! ah, that's exciting. he's wanted to get a better look at them, how they're made and how they function for a while. the wiggling of pal's fingers, ever moving even now, has him smiling helplessly, pulling one of his hands up to kiss his wrist.

just because he can, which still strikes him.] I don't do parties, in fact generally I hate them, so likely on the 'lack thereof' side of the equation. But you needn't worry about indulging, consider me indulged as we speak.

[a short pause then he decides to clarify,] This, I mean. It is nice. I suppose I should ask about boundaries, including whether I shouldn't simply eh... 'cuddle up' whenever I so feel like it.

Very generous of you, to be sure; I'll make it worth your while. [ahem,] In the meantime, I'll become the expert sandwich-maker. Sandwichatier?

[No, that's nothing. The wrist kiss makes him soft, and he lets go of Viktor's other hand to wind that arm around his shoulders - speaking of cuddling up.]

He hates parties but he'll still have one for me— you really do like me. [A little shoulder shake, for emphasis.] This is nice. I doubt there will ever be a time I don't want to be close to you, barring situations like— I don't know, exploding, so: you're fine.

[And he'll try not to explode, for extra fineness. He trusts Viktor more than just about everyone else to know which situations are not appropriate for distracting affection - namely, while working, so really, all other cuddling up is free game. That does remind him of Allen and the other key, though-]

My turn: are you comfortable with people knowing about us? I am. And on my honor, I can behave in the lab, probably. [ha-] No; I will.

You do have a distinct talent for putting jam on bread. [amused, fond, the usual spiel.

a settles into what now truly is a cuddle, resisting the urge to snort at himself for how the simple action of it makes him melt a little. this is nice, he can agree with that wholeheartedly, taking pal's free hand in both of his to examine it more closely, idly.]

You will be there so the party will at least somewhat be bearable. [just simple fact- also it's not a 'please the sponsors' party which really does make a huge difference, as it turns out.]

I do not mind at all, you may tell who you like. I'll likely at least inform Allen. [his expression goes a touch warm with it, that pal is happy to be open about it. it doesn't surprise him but he is used to piltover where everything is infinitely complicated in such matters, always an agenda to consider.

all that does make him glance up though, not embarrassed but not entirely sure how to ask. bluntly, he decides.] Hm, forgive the bluntness but things of a sexual nature, is that something you're interested in pursuing in time? I think most prefer ah- hm, 'going slow' on these fronts, when they're new to it.

[If being a sandwich master gets him this far, he'll take it. He hums, glad to settle into the warmth of an earnest cuddle, briefly pressing his lips into Viktor's hair in what is half a kiss and half another affectionate squeeze. Not that he's in the habit of airing all of his personal business ASAP all over town, but he likes the feeling of knowing he can; there are people he'd like to know, particularly because he already wanted them to meet Viktor...

And lo, a fireworks party is inevitable, so that works out nicely.]

They'll find out at the party, if not before. You can invite Allen, if you like; I'd like to meet him sometime.

[Anyway, all thoughts of other friends aside with this blunt question on the table. He huffs, amused, and leans back from squishing his face into Viktor's hair. The abrupt topic change has him turning a little pink, but he still has an answer, without embarrassment-]

I like how blunt you are; it's a perk. And yes, I'm interested. I can't give you an arbitrary length of time— [And why would he, that's silly. He shifts his hand to fiddle with Viktor's hair as he speaks, twirling a lock of it the way he's seen Viktor do so many times. Hmm, indeed:] But yes, very. How slow do you like to go?

Oh- yes, I will then. He could use the levity, I think. [so serious for a teenager, which given the situation he can't blame but still, viktor is more sentimental than he ever wants to admit and has this crazy thought that kids should get to be kids once and a while.

'they'll find out at the party,' there's something about that that has his lips quirking. even more so when pal's huffing into his hair, making viktor turn to see if he can catch- ah, there's the hint of pink. he tries not to look too outwardly pleased. sue him, it's cute.]

Good, I hate dancing around topics if it can be helped. [he closes his eyes a moment as he considers, pal's hand at his hair soothing besides. ] I've only ever done eh, done trysts? One night stands, things like that. No feelings involved, so in truth I'm not sure. From what I gather it is... respectful? To take time reaching that point. I am not sure why, though.

Could he? Definitely ask if he'd like to see some things explode, then. [Serious teens... That's definitely part of the motivation behind this party, Palamedes would concede. It may have originated from the combined ideas that he should get to play with fireworks and that his traumatized teen friends should have more ongoing distractions, so - yes. Invite this kid.

He continues to toy with Viktor's hair, considering. Being direct is very attractive, mmhm, yes indeed - but ah, they're both still—a work in progress, for this thing too.]

Tropes? [a little grin,] We'll figure it out. I'm not worried about any time lapse, or alleged disrespect; you and I are the important part. I've read enough novels to know that that's not how it has to go, after all.

[So: screw the rules, like always. Palamedes is just as willing to go through a chaste Victorian courtship as any other kind, he has no time limit in mind. It feels, mm, faintly wishy-washy to qué será, será this point though, so he adds:]

Although, since it bears saying out loud: I am attracted to you, and you are very handsome. Here's some ammunition: I nearly walked head-on into a lamppost the other day while I was thinking about your eyes. You could undo me in a heartbeat and I would say thank you.

[So like, it's on the table, absolutely.]

He takes too much on his shoulders, I find many here are too young for the responsibility they believe lands squarely on them. [so fireworks, that should help. or at least be the kind of stupid, loud nonsense a teenager should get into for a night rather than beast slaying or whatever other drama.]

Ah yes, is going slow too dull for romance novels? [he cracks open his eyes, amused still.] Will our heist heroes take it slow, I wonder? You know perhaps we should have realized we were dancing around something when we spent an entire evening out at the bar coming up with a romantic heist story. After just committing a heist.

[putting them both on blast for that now that he's thinking of it, a helpless chuckle. it seems impossibly dense now that he puts it that way, though he's rather glad with how things ultimately unfolded.

pal's lamppost bit has the chuckle turning to a proper bark of a laugh, covering his mouth to smother it.] Unbelievable, you cannot say such lovely things about being undone in a heartbeat in the same breath as walking into a lamppost.

Since it bears saying out loud, as you say, I would have gladly picked you up at a bar during the days I did such things. [he shifts a little, weight on his good knee so he can lean over pal, tipping his chin up to get a better look at him.] You have lovely eyes yourself, especially when you smile. If I had managed to coax a smile out of you it would have been a sure thing to ask you somewhere more private.

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