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

[viktor hums his understanding- ah perfection, the drive is a double edged sword. for now the squiggles are all he needs anyway, perfection saved for later, when it all translates into metal and, hopefully, magic.] We'll get to perfect soon enough. This is the stage for being messy.

[uh oh, fond lip quirk at lunch offers.] That is fine, I can get the preliminary work done in the morning. I know you are a very busy man, you have sports teams to manage.

[he looks over, a tug at pal's arm.] Come sit, you have art to do, hm?

[Oh, that's very fun, the messy stage. Never let anyone see these squiggly doodles, not that it would make sense to anyone but maybe three other people here? But still, the shame. He gives the back of Viktor's head a fond hair ruffle before nodding over towards the wee kitchen cabinets.]

Let me pick a mug, and then you can tease me about my sports management.

[He makes it quick, grabbing the first mug that is both clean and blank and bringing it back to the table. That he sets down, and he drags the other chair around to sit next to Viktor so they can tinker and draw Together.]

I do have— more obligations than I previously thought, true enough. Have I been looking haggard? Be honest.

[The line between keeping busy and overworking is thin and nebulous, it helps when someone else can keep him honest about the children's sports team workload, and so on.]

Good, it will give me time to workshop the different angles to tease you from. [viktor calls, eyes going back to the schematic and important squiggles. he starts on the adjacent page with a new blueprint, making room for the changes in question.

and snaps back to the present when pal's beside him again, glancing over with a thoughtful look.

hm, haggard. also leans in a little, without really thinking about it. proximity.]

Not yet, though given your schedule you will no doubt be if you do not take proper breaks. I have no doubt you'll be terrible at determining when those are needed. [he settles on. an honest answer, as requested.] No worries, I will keep an eye on your condition and make you aware of these times if you are too stubbornly focused to notice, if you would like.

[Tease variety? Be still his heart. He gives Viktor a look for that one, amused and a little challenging, like please - do this. He'll accept it with relish. And he enjoys the proximity, quietly, leaning in for a brief press of arm against arm before he moves away again. They are Working, after all.]

I'm taking a proper break right now, [he says, lifting his doodle notebook significantly. He has to perfect the Viktor squid before it can go on a mug, it's a process.] But thanks. How are you doing? With the... you know.

[He wiggles his marker at Viktor's whole self, broadly; the bug itching thing. How are the bugs coming, mister.]

I have to say: some people had to eat their own skins back in winter, but this is much more viscerally gross.

[one word, uniforms. still going to make sure pal has to suffer that if it isn't in the works already. but fine, this is pretty much a pal break, and viktor considers it a break because he's only idly tinkering and doing so with their arms brushing. gay.]

Forgive me, I forgot drawing squids was a favored form of recreation for you. [arts and crafts, baby. the question gets a sigh, which probably answers it well enough.]

It's annoying but manageable. I've had to keep my nails as short as possible because when I don't pay attention the idle scratching gets ugly. [he's got a few raw marks on his neck for proof of that, though skin eating has his brow raise.]

They did what exactly? Was it a mental compulsion? [he's hoping it wasn't a starvation thing, not a fan of that. did enough of that in the undercity, thanks, and without auto-cannibalism.]

I'm getting very good at it, [he says with a little pen flourish, and begins to draw Another Squid. It looks the same as all the other squids. If he glances at the marks on Viktor's neck with classic "stop relaxing and fuss about this" energy, well, oops? He's trying to stay on task.]

I'll bring you something... the ministers will have a salve, no doubt. [Ahem, okay, fussing diverted. He peers at the real squid pictures in the book so he draws the eyes in the right place for once, hm-]

It was— snake shedding, more or less. People became different versions of themselves; older, younger, that sort of thing - and the literature suggested, well, eating the shed skin to reverse the process.

[A beat. So yeah, disgusting? And yet.]

Not in public, mind. Mercifully.

[well, it's a very cute squid. he vaguely wonders what they actually look like as squids, or if all sleepers are just basically the same type of squid and the same general size and color.

he does wave a hand though.] Save it- or do give it to me, but if you do I will just give it to other palebloods who need it more. This is perfectly bearable as a whole. [at least he's being honest that he'll just give it away.

also pal gets a bit of a look for that, viktor reaching over for a light flick of his fingers against pal's shoulder in retaliation for-] Really, you started off with 'skin eating' and didn't immediately clarify you didn't mean intense auto-cannibalism? [he's fond despite himself.

and a pause.] Did it work?

Viktor. [Exasperated, but not surprised; if he must sneak medical salves onto Viktor under the guise of more affectionate touches, he will do that. He will attempt to do that, anyway. This particular instance of Viktor refusing to take care of himself isn't too egregious; Palamedes lets it go.

Ah, in favor of skin eating, yes-] Admittedly, it was kind of a strange time. You had to be there.

[Ha ha... that wacky new year's tradition: eating your own skin. Is it still technically auto-cannibalism, hm, better not think about it.]

I assume it must have. [A beat.] I didn't eat any skin, for the record. I thought it sounded extreme, even for here.

Palamedes. [is viktor's answer there, brow quirked. at least he tries to be reassuring.] I know my own limits in these cases. If you were in my place I am sure you would insist the same.

[and, to be fair, viktor would also try to coax him into using some anyway. he's happily ignoring that fact for now.]

Hm, sounds both disgusting and intriguing. Did you get to see yourself older? [is older pal hot? given he's biased about current pal being hot he sort of assumes so.

he does make a scrunched face about the skin thing.] Maybe if you could mask it in another meal, otherwise I think I too would pass. I suppose we're lucky it's just eh... bugs, this month. For now.

If I were in your place, I would want to be less itchy. [Accept the medicine, dang!! He'll bring some home, and he will keep bringing it home until it gets used.

Anyway, well. He pauses in his drawing for a second, considering - is this a thing Viktor needs to know right now, while they're having a peaceful little arts and crafts afternoon? Would it add anything to the experience to say, oh, no, I was an animated skeleton hand bullying people into giving me pens to write with?

Probably not. It's not funnier in retrospect, like he hoped at the time it would be.]

No, I didn't. What kind of meal could you fit an entire skin into? Maybe someone shorter...

I'll consider it if it gets worse. [look at that, a whole half assed concession. he leans in to watch pal's drawing better, fingers still moving idly over the tinkering with only vague glances over. he'd have a whole Feeling about the domesticity of this but he's actually starting to get used to it, simply enjoying it rather than it being a matter to chew over.

the pause does get a glance, though he assumes it's just calling back the memory and nods.] Hm, that's a shame. I think you would be handsome with some grey, and it would match you aesthetic.

It needed to be the whole skin? Nevermind, there's no saving it.

[Palamedes hums and taps the end of his pen against his chin, very seriously considering this concession. He'll allow it, catching Viktor's jaw with a light touch to kiss him quickly. Thanks, this is enough for now. He'll bring home the salve anyway.]

If I recall, the whole skin was a prominent feature, yes. [gross! and way too reminiscent of necromancers who chew on their cavaliers, another thing he's not going to drop into this otherwise ordinary conversation. Mostly ordinary.]

And do you think so? Maybe one day we'll find out. If I wake up older, you will literally be the first to know.

[He can then tell Palamedes how handsome he is, hmhm, yes. Come on, snake shedding... 2!! Actually, this raises a good question:] Do we age as normal, here? We're magically-significant squids.

[ah well, maybe making concessions isn't so bad, as it turns out. too bad he immediately has to grimace about the skin thing.]

Fascinating... disgusting, but fascinating. [he's still curious if that actually worked.] Hm, that is true. Until then I will imagined a very distinguished older gentleman in far too much grey.

[oh, that's an interesting question.] Given our form is likely more a magical projection, and our true form is that of a squid by all accounts, I imagine aging is more a matter of perception than traditional. [a pause.] Did the Sixth make much of birthdays?

Edited (hello html my old friend... and i needed to fix something else jesus christ me) 2022-05-06 05:17 (UTC)

[Start eating skin to find out what problems it solves, Viktor--]

Distinguished? [Flatterer; that absolutely is an adjective letting how much Viktor likes him do all the heavy lifting. Palamedes is fairly convinced he would look exactly the same, but a little more grey and fragile.] We'll see.

[Maybe. If. They age? Which perhaps they do not.]

I think you're right about the issue of perception; I wonder how much of it is mutable at all, as it seems like we have no control over these forms whatsoever. [can he think really hard and become 55,] And- a little. I know what a birthday party is, yes.

I would say it's likely a reflection of the age we feel but... well, I imagine a great many of the people here would suddenly age years after some of the nonsense that happens. [and then he could know how distinguished certain wardens could be.

but no, it is one of those internal logics of the place that baffle him.] I guess we'll have to keep an eye on the teenagers, they're the ones that would show actual time related aging best.

Any idea when your birthday would correlate to here then? [he... kind of imagines that's difficult to figure out. given entirely other planet with probably different system of time in general?]

That would be a nightmare; imagine being fifty one day and thirteen the next. My only comfort would be not needing an entirely new wardrobe. [he has been tall... since forever. one pro.] Are you going to measure how tall they are in the lab?

[That would be... cute, frankly. He looks up from drawing to twirl his pen around his fingers, considering.]

If I manifest my Sleeper form, non-squid variant, as a person who does age, does that matter? There are too many unknowns to consider, particularly given the way some people here wouldn't age in general, squid or otherwise.

[Ah, but he's in the nerd shit again, so moving on: birthdays. Hmm, subtle.]

I have no idea about my birthday, but each of us has a patron Pthumerian with a month of their own, which is close enough. Don't you think? I did some reading; mine is an eyeball with limbs.

Hm, that isn't a bad idea. I'll have to see if I can convince Allen or Todoroki to let me. [hey, it's a quick, easy way to tell? at least with no markings against a doorframe, probably. though that would be an easy way to do it.]

The continuity of the body we knew could have important implications, but it isn't a study for my expertise. [he admits. he'd kind of like to know though, since it might tie into things like why he's still sick here, etc. but very much a problem for someone who isn't busy making magic tech, thanks.

who's subtle? tell him your birthday, pal.]

Oh yes, I've spoken to people who have gotten gifts on their month. How do you find that sort of thing out? [baffling. his brow raises.] Hm, that is somehow fitting. [because pal's nosy and a noodle. sorry pal.]

I've got some budding projects about that; our bodily continuity, that is. Conceptually, it's fascinating— I could write at least four papers on it.

[Does it also, as a bonus, help center the buried part of him that cries about being not-real in ghost rooms? Maybe! A little! It's a process.

anyway i'm making this up, i have no idea how the patrons work,] A lot of guesswork, but I'm usually right. We'll find out soon enough, I suppose - once the eyeball comes calling.

[And hey, he's got two eyes, that's different... He raises an eyebrow, amused.]

Why, what are you getting me for my birthday?

Oh? Tell me of them. [write him four papers about it. still, he wonders if this counts towards the 'over extending himself' thing pal mentioned. he'll have to keep an eye out just in case.

fair, from the person who barely understood the blessed day thing worked and just sort of picked a day] And he gifts you something odd. Miss Dawson got a phial full of light from Argonaut. Very whimsical and potentially useful against corruption.

[or just a cool flashlight i guess. pal gets a pointed look though.] Nothing, as you haven't given me a date to work with.

Well, I found a girl in the woods- [peak Trench sentence (tm)] -who's interested in manipulating our current forms to obey different rules. Learning other magic, and so on, besides the blood magic and our natural abilities. She's theorized that if we are all from the same squid stock, we should be made equal— magically speaking, that is. Mostly, I stepped in to help her curtail the worst of her careless blood pollution.

[He waves a hand, like, it be like that sometimes! He's helping, but he's not at the helm, so it's not the same as overextending. Obviously.]

A light. [hmm.] Last month, I suppose that would make sense. And I can't guess the date, but if my other guesswork is accurate, it should be next month.

[He twirls the pen again, adding,] Which is the sixth month; I thought that was a fun touch.

Of course you found a girl in the woods. [that's said quietly, because it needs to be said. the rest makes him not, thoughtful.] You know I had an interesting conversation with Ortus about the equality of magic here. Namely the difficulty for the powerful to unlearn what they knew and the tendency for the powerless to underestimate themselves.

Well regardless, well done. Not quite as intriguing as children's sports teams but still a worthwhile endeavor.

[shrug. yup, a magic light.] She's going to let me have a look at it, if you wanted to see it yourself. I'm curious if it will have any similiarities to the orbs we collected.

[ah, the sixth month, fair enough. viktor shakes his head, amused at the theming.] Might as well make it the sixth day too. Wouldn't want anyone to think you are slacking.

Did you? Good to know Ortus the Ninth contains multitudes, then. [or,] I spoke to him about poetry, mostly.

[Is he ignoring the part where he personally is definitely one of those 'unlearn what they knew' people, yes... maybe so... that's not him, he doesn't need to do that, gosh no. Ahem. Instead he leans to give Viktor a very scolding nudge for the sports teams comment; be nice, he's tender.]

Sure, I'll have a look. Is the sixth day of the sixth month too on the nose? Let's assume that day until proven otherwise.

[narrator voice: they would not be proven otherwise]

So: what am I getting for my special squid birthday?

He also mentioned that. Who was it... Matthias, I think the name was. He seemed quite enthusiastic about that figure as an inspiration. [you know, in an ortus way enthusiastic. speaking of,] Is he coming to the fireworks party? He should be invited.

[is ortus a teen?? viktor has no idea actually, the face paint and general demeanor didn't really give anything away.

the nudge gets quirked lips, innocent, truly, before he's rolling his eyes.]

Is the point not the surprise? That is how it is in Piltover. They take incredible pleasure in drawing that aspect out every way they can.

Plenty of poets have been inspired by him across the Nine Houses, but none so much as Ortus, I'd wager. [and all the Sixth stuff about him is textually Horny, unlike the subtextual horniness of writing one really long epic about a guy in that repressed Ninth way, ahem.] I didn't mention the party, but he's welcome to join us— if Gideon and Harrow don't bring him along, I'll take a walk up to that ugly house myself.

[Bone House still tacky, RIP to the Emperor.

Anyway,] The point is never the surprise; that's just bragging about having knowledge you don't want to share. No; I'd be lukewarm about it on principle. Could you present it in the form of a puzzle? I'd enjoy that.

[This is a negotiation, but also: pleeeeease do it like a puzzle.]

[yeah, viktor will believe that. you didn't call someone sublime if you weren't probably at least one of their biggest fans. he has to snort at ugly house though.]

If you are already there, if not I hardly mind sending him a message. [he sort of assumes pal spends time there regardless of ugly levels, given apparently most of his social circle dwelled there. with skeleton lawn maintenance. necromancers are a lot.

oh that's endearing, asking for it to be a puzzle, he doesn't even need to press on the negotiations. viktor reaches over to brush an errant hair back into place simply because he can, humming in agreement.] Then it shall be given as a puzzle. I cannot promise a good one, but one nonetheless.

[he wonders if a literal puzzle box around it might be too on the nose. Making Things is easier than coming up with anything else, really. he'll have to workshop this.]

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