[well there's a soft smile again, he can't help it, how very pal.] Remember what I said before? You are a terrible hermit, you are a man of action, etc.
[still it's painfully sweet imagining a kid stuck with view screens and the odd space rock collision hearing about the seventh and just deciding he needed to know more. writing a letter to that effect and sending it out to the void to see what happened.
of course then caring enough to try and help, and he wishes the story had a happier ending than it clearly did.] And then you tried to help, I take it. Again, the action part.
[viktor does love a good hypothetical augment, so he's happy to tilt his head as he pictures it. still, don't lose an arm but nothing wrong with a little game of what if, right?]
Plenty. A light, weapons are common, especially knives. In the undercity augments were often about both function and self expression- for example, I remember a seamstress who could use two of her augmented fingers like scissors and had a measuring tape and pins tucked into various areas.
So a place for your stolen pens, of course. If we do get this bloodgem research off the ground darkblood would do wonders to help with weight distribution rather than all the nitpicking of alloys or counterweights.
[Stop, he gains three new sappy, saccharine feelings every time he hears 'man of action.' It's working, make no mistake, and he's managed to keep from miring in the memories that will take too many bad necromancer tales (tm) to explain - it's thanks to Viktor. Palamedes manages a fraction of a laugh, more of a soft puff of breath than anything, and nods.]
I usually do. [try to help, etc. - yes, always.] You'll give me an ego if you keep that up.
[As established, he is quite humble.
But holy shit, a place for his pens. He considers his arms one after the other, like, hm... what if these had a pen holder built in? After a moment he begins to meticulously roll up his left sleeve.]
Lucky, because I don't know anything about alloys. If you wanted some tips for distribution of freshly grown tissue, on the other hand...
[Womp. He holds his arm out, sleeve neatly tucked up to the elbow. Okay, fun new game he's just made up:]
Eh, if you get too full of yourself I will be sure to think of something. [viktor answers with more warmth than he thinks he should. in his defense this is just... comfortable, sitting on the couch, carefully handling painful spots for examination. a bit of a jarring change from standing at the docks like a grim monument, the only lingering hint of it the sea smell clinging where it could to them.
he watches pal roll up his sleeve, a little confused until he realizes the examination in question with a quirk of the lips.] One of these days I will need you to explain any and all medical properties of necromancy, purely because I find it fascinating.
[but for the moment clearly this is more important.
he takes a moment to wonder about the whole ethics issue again, but given anytime he looks up into pal's pretty grey eyes he needs a fraction of a second to recover well... what can you do. at the very least it isn't hard to divert into something like work mode, envisioning the current skin in delicate wiring and sturdy metals. the tips of his fingers go to the crook of pal's elbow, press lightly to a place he can almost feel a pulse beating.]
Here and down is where the main wiring and mesh would go, if we were trying for something to mimic feeling and a nervous system response the bulk of it would have to pass through the joints. It wouldn't leave much room but I am very good at what I do so I could at least have a small area around here for one pen. No one with any working knowledge would expect it there so it would obviously be for a prized part of the collection.
[he refuses to let himself run his fingers over the area though he does tap it before moving down pal's wrist.] It would be easiest to put a compartment in the bicep area but I could make something work here too, depending on the design. It would depend on how sleek you wanted it. [like pal's thin wrists and sharp angles, giving himself at least the chance to pick pal's wrist up gently and turn it to consider a design, though... that might be a little for him.]
Will you? That sounds like freedom to do whatever I want, if I know you're going to keep me in line. [hmm but this is simply outright flirting, so ahem,] I'll write down the best bits for you. Harrow- you'll meet Harrow sooner or later- from the Ninth, she's the expert in all things osseo. She'll fill in what I can't.
[The Necromancer's Bone and Body Guide, published here in Trench purely so Viktor can read it. Although that reminds Palamedes of the Emperor's study and his myriad warded notebooks, and he's forced to wonder if a pocket guide to necromancy would upset, hm, pricks with more power than he has.
Maybe. He puts the thought away with a minute shake of his head, looking down to watch Viktor's hand on his arm and noting idly that he's so much warmer now, compared to at the docks— mmph. Pen arms, though, yes. He quirks a little grin at 'very good at what I do'; a pair of egos, the both of them.]
My favorite pen, alright. How does it open, a catch? Spring-loaded, manual? Not a zippered seam, if you're aiming for sleek.
[How do robot arms work, anyway? Palamedes can name the bones a pen would fit between for safekeeping, but that rather negates the ability to... use the pen, on short notice. Hmm. Fascinating stuff— equally fascinating is Viktor's touch, and the intent way he looks at Palamedes' arm like an actual piece of engineering. It's a very necromancer look, all things considered; he supposes their respective mediums are the key difference, there.
While touch is, ah, on his mind, the next question:] How does wiring and mesh mimic feeling?
So you just need a firm hand? [well. fuck. viktor at least manages not to run a hand over his face for letting that slip- this is the problem, flirting doesn't make him bat an eye it's the feelings around it that send him tumbling. this would really, truly be so much easier if he just found pal attractive and not instantly engaging.
he resists the urge to clear his throat and offers,] Harrow- yes, I'd like to meet her. I'm curious in general about the people from your world, they sound an interesting group.
[he places a fingertip over a certain area just below the elbow, a click of his tongue as he decides,] Spring-loaded tends to lack the longevity I prefer for prosthetic work, though it could do. A push latch if it could be made small enough would be an option.
[good question pal, in arcane it's mostly drugs and aesthetic as far as anyone can tell. at least this hypothetical wouldn't run on highly illegal drugs, probably just lunar energy and maybe a little blood, eventually. that's normal enough here though, right.]
With a lot of trial and error. [viktor snorts, glancing up from where his fingers still rest lightly on pal's skin.] Mostly it mimics electrical currents. It loses most range of feeling and sensitivity but... well, we would just have to do better if you ever needed it.
[ugh. he glances back down at pal's wrist.] But of course better you never need it, thus the weapon building I mentioned.
Something like that. You'd figure it out along the way. [Ahem. Anyway, Harrow and the others, ah - yes. There are, hmm... three here that Palamedes is comfortable introducing Viktor to, uh, at all. That they're all Ninth only speaks to the quality of strange skeleton goths, in his opinion - and everyone else is a horrible monster, or at least just low-grade annoying.]
You're sure to meet Gideon when you meet Harrow, [he gestures with his other hand, like, so as not to explain They Are a Necro-Cav Pair in so many words, since Viktor can put that together himself by this point,] They're— excellent, in a word. Harrow is a genius, and I've never met anyone with a heart bigger than Gideon's.
[And they're likely to both sputter about either of those comments, so feel free to quote him on this as long as he gets to be in the room. Those girls...]
A push latch; where would you put the 'push'?
[Could he, with this hypothetical robot arm, do a super cool pen-dispensing move with it, maybe if the push spot were in the palm of the hand or something... He's just thinking of the important logistics, here.]
I'll try not to need it, no matter how interesting it is. [For real, it definitely seems, ah, like it would take some getting used to, and not the kind of patience that he's capable of giving. To say nothing of how a robot arm would handle necromancy - well, never mind; it's only a fun little thought adventure. So is having a pocket weapon, since ugh - carrying! But Viktor wants him to be prepared, so if he's to entertain the idea-]
Alright; what weapons do you think I should try? Remember to consider my mystique, and also my critical lack of upper body strength. And lower body strength, while we're at it.
[viktor bites the inside of his cheek to keep from digging a deeper hole with something he can't easily wave off, like i'd like to, i look forward to it. etc. better to focus on names.]
They are a necromancer and cavalier? [he really is starting to get it.] Which house are they from? Hm, maybe we can have them over for dinner, that is... what people do, yes?
[god that is so domestic he almost laughs. at least he's pretty sure that's a normal thing roommates just do so. it's probably fine. and they do sound like exactly the sort of people viktor prefers- smart and not assholes. he'll be keeping an eye out.
the bit about the push latch makes him tap at pal's arm as he considers it, and really he should probably let go but not just yet.] Honestly it wouldn't be hard to put it wherever you'd like. The palm would be a little tricky but that just makes the work more interesting.
[he finally moves his hands away, unfortunate, mind to weapons with a little furrowed brow.] If you had good aim I'd say a gun, maybe a taser of some sort even with unfortunate aim. I am... not an expert on weapons either, in truth. Or known for my incredible body strength and natural dexterity.
[extremely dry.] But since you have a better chance of fleeing a threat a taser really wouldn't be a terrible idea. I suppose for a beast it would need to be able to dole out a very high charge.
[Palamedes nods, and then — hm. The house is up for debate, as far as some people are concerned, and maybe he should do the polite thing and actually ask Gideon and Harrow about which house they want to be recognized as one of these days, but if he gets to choose in the privacy of his own petty home:]
Ninth. [And more importantly,] If you want them to come to dinner, you'll be opening the floodgates. How do you feel about having a party in the field outside? With fireworks? I might have given my okay to this plot before you moved in; you can veto, if you like.
[In no way can all of the people who would inevitably come to this dinner and field party fit into this bunker, but the field? Spacious! This is an earnest question, but he softens minutely over Viktor immediately inviting his cool goth friends over for dinner. Mmph. He says,] It could still be just the two of them, sometime. I'll ask when I get a minute.
[But to business,] I don't know anything about guns.
[So probably a taser? Alright? He doesn't know anything about tasers either, frankly, but he trusts Viktor's far superior technological knowledge.]
Do I have to wear it on a belt? Guaranteed I'll look like an idiot.
[viktor's brow furrows a moment as he tries to remember that poem, which would be easier if they hadn't been a little drunk at the time. still he snaps his fingers when he manages to dredge up,] That was eh... the one about a tomb, yes? The Ninth?
[but there's parties to consider apparently, and the question makes him chuckle and wave a hand.] Oh, go right ahead. Noise does not bother me, and it sounds like a good way to show you fireworks, like we discussed. Who is coming to this party, exactly?
[normally he loathes parties but, to be fair, all the parties he's had to deal with in recent years were galas of rich people who liked to ask him if he was jayce's assistant, so he thinks a fireworks party in the yard can have a chance. all the more reason to figure out a way to make sure they won't attract any beasts.] Yes, well... tell them you'll be cooking, that might amuse them.
[since he'll drag pal into helping there at least. part of the lessons and all.]
No you would not, you would look like a man with a belt. [amused.] Do you think it would look better with a thigh holster or loose in a bag?
That's the one, [points for remembering! aw,] And I have no idea. Gideon and Harrow live with some other friends of mine, who had asked about the party, and so...
[He waves a hand, like, well! So! He can't say no to people when they're mid-breakdown and asking him if they can have a party at his house; so be it. Belatedly he tugs his sleeve back down, giving Viktor a Look over making him cook. Is it time to torture the Ninth? He'll make jam sandwiches in a pinch, which honestly, Gideon might find charming for how, ah, lo-fi cooking it is.
Well, he's prepared to embarrass himself with rudimentary cooking skills, he supposes. For the 'normal people have dinner with friends' aspect of it, at the very least.]
A thigh holster? [viktor he can't go outside without his stupid gray poncho covering everything, all options are silly options] I think I'm going to touch the wrong end at an inopportune time and need to be peeled off the ground.
[Ugh, okay. Do it for Viktor. He acquiesces, hands raised like okay, okay-]
Ah, so it may get rowdy. Good thing there are no neighbors to bother, aside from beasts and other general trouble. [a pause.] I will get you some extra incense, just in case.
[he's not even sure he's technically invited to whatever this is? parties are mysterious. the dinner is much easier insofar as he can figure out something basic for them to cook together and then just... eat and talk. as people do. with a table full of necromancers and necromancer-adjacent, which is not a thing he ever thought he'd have in his life.
either way he's grinning a little the panic thigh holster brings, stalwartly not thinking things like cute in relation to this.] What? I am sure we can find one in grey. Maybe even a different shade, if you are feeling adventurous.
You will not, and I will start working on it for you. It- I would feel better, knowing you had it. [he admits despite himself.] Things happen far too quickly here.
[Viktor is in charge of fireworks, of course he's coming to this hypothetical party; Palamedes will insist on his attendance at all Bunker Functions, regardless. Incense and fireworks, though - a very, hm, smoky affair in the future of the field? They can work it out.]
'Rowdy' is highly likely, in fact. I would mentally prepare for a long night.
[Assuming nobody's world ends over there in that house and prevents this party from happening— here's hoping. Anyway, Viktor, please? He hardly has enough thigh to wrap a holster around, let him rest.]
I'll send the beasts into fits of laughter; that will show them.
[Holsters and belts... can a man not dress like a big gray stick in peace? Viktor is so lucky he said this soft thing instead, or Palamedes would have a full presentation prepared in minutes for why he cannot wear a thigh holster or he will shrivel up at once. Which is to say, he might as well say it out loud:]
You really thought you were a hermit when you have rowdy fireworks parties in your lawn? [he can't help but tease just a little. all in all though he thinks he could look forward to this, and if not escaping to the lab is always an option. still, trying to socialize more on top of pal's reaction to fireworks for the first time will probably keep him there.]
It will give you more time to tase them. [a shrug.] Think of it this way, you can have pouches on the belt. More room for notepads.
[and stolen pens. he offers pal a smile back, isn't sure how to say something like even if he didn't owe pal many times over now he'd want to do this for him. that living outside of that expected give and take is terrifying but thrilling in turn.]
Thank you. [not exactly a speech but he has to glance away regardless.] I think I've kept you up long enough tonight though, between all the drama. I may head to the lab to get a start on this project. [and think about how one faces feelings. what to say, what to do.]
In my humble defense, I've never had a lawn before. [He's maintaining a hermit-action balance, truly. Rowdy fireworks parties are a distant possibility, not a guarantee.
Tempting him with notepads, though - devious. He scoffs, but-]
One pouch; I can't handle more than that.
[Neither can he control the flicker of open worry that crosses his face when Viktor wants to go out to the lab— sir? Right now? Well- this has been a fairly exhausting time, and he does understand the urge to go work on something even through tiredness to excise an unpleasant memory, which nearly turning to silver certainly is! Still. Hmm.]
If you're sure. [What does he say, 'come home if you feel silver'? That's too much.] Later— I'll check in. Just for my peace of mind.
A shame too, the Sixth sounds like it could use a rowdy party once and a while for... hm, enrichment? [keep the nerds entertained, give everyone something to talk about for a few months. ah well.
his expression softens a touch before he holds out a finger in indication to wait, leaning over for his bag and fishing out a key. he presents it with a quirk of his brow, just a typical key, maybe brass, fitting with the clunky look of his lab door.]
I finally had more made. For you, you are- of course you are welcome to come down whenever you wish. [and a little sheepishly he offers,] And I promise if I see anything like the mimic lurking you will be the first to know. As you said, a work in progress, yes?
A rousing good time watching the view screens, sure. [ha.] I'm calling it a learning experience; you wouldn't deny me that, would you?
[Learning about lawns and other worldly things, etc. Although, what's this- his brow furrows briefly, while Viktor digs in the bag, then- oh! Oh, a key of his very own at last, that is- a gesture, that both delights him (lab key! lab key!) and turns his insides to mush. Ah; a whole key...
He takes it, laying it flat on his palm and then sort of bouncing it once, twice, before closing his hand around it almost protectively. The last time he got his hands on a clunky key, it was terrible in every way - this is much improved.]
Thank you. For this, and for, you know. [letting him worry; he nods,] A work in progress. I'll see you when you get back.
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[still it's painfully sweet imagining a kid stuck with view screens and the odd space rock collision hearing about the seventh and just deciding he needed to know more. writing a letter to that effect and sending it out to the void to see what happened.
of course then caring enough to try and help, and he wishes the story had a happier ending than it clearly did.] And then you tried to help, I take it. Again, the action part.
[viktor does love a good hypothetical augment, so he's happy to tilt his head as he pictures it. still, don't lose an arm but nothing wrong with a little game of what if, right?]
Plenty. A light, weapons are common, especially knives. In the undercity augments were often about both function and self expression- for example, I remember a seamstress who could use two of her augmented fingers like scissors and had a measuring tape and pins tucked into various areas.
So a place for your stolen pens, of course. If we do get this bloodgem research off the ground darkblood would do wonders to help with weight distribution rather than all the nitpicking of alloys or counterweights.
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I usually do. [try to help, etc. - yes, always.] You'll give me an ego if you keep that up.
[As established, he is quite humble.
But holy shit, a place for his pens. He considers his arms one after the other, like, hm... what if these had a pen holder built in? After a moment he begins to meticulously roll up his left sleeve.]
Lucky, because I don't know anything about alloys. If you wanted some tips for distribution of freshly grown tissue, on the other hand...
[Womp. He holds his arm out, sleeve neatly tucked up to the elbow. Okay, fun new game he's just made up:]
Show me where the pens would go.
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he watches pal roll up his sleeve, a little confused until he realizes the examination in question with a quirk of the lips.] One of these days I will need you to explain any and all medical properties of necromancy, purely because I find it fascinating.
[but for the moment clearly this is more important.
he takes a moment to wonder about the whole ethics issue again, but given anytime he looks up into pal's pretty grey eyes he needs a fraction of a second to recover well... what can you do. at the very least it isn't hard to divert into something like work mode, envisioning the current skin in delicate wiring and sturdy metals. the tips of his fingers go to the crook of pal's elbow, press lightly to a place he can almost feel a pulse beating.]
Here and down is where the main wiring and mesh would go, if we were trying for something to mimic feeling and a nervous system response the bulk of it would have to pass through the joints. It wouldn't leave much room but I am very good at what I do so I could at least have a small area around here for one pen. No one with any working knowledge would expect it there so it would obviously be for a prized part of the collection.
[he refuses to let himself run his fingers over the area though he does tap it before moving down pal's wrist.] It would be easiest to put a compartment in the bicep area but I could make something work here too, depending on the design. It would depend on how sleek you wanted it. [like pal's thin wrists and sharp angles, giving himself at least the chance to pick pal's wrist up gently and turn it to consider a design, though... that might be a little for him.]
no subject
[The Necromancer's Bone and Body Guide, published here in Trench purely so Viktor can read it. Although that reminds Palamedes of the Emperor's study and his myriad warded notebooks, and he's forced to wonder if a pocket guide to necromancy would upset, hm, pricks with more power than he has.
Maybe. He puts the thought away with a minute shake of his head, looking down to watch Viktor's hand on his arm and noting idly that he's so much warmer now, compared to at the docks— mmph. Pen arms, though, yes. He quirks a little grin at 'very good at what I do'; a pair of egos, the both of them.]
My favorite pen, alright. How does it open, a catch? Spring-loaded, manual? Not a zippered seam, if you're aiming for sleek.
[How do robot arms work, anyway? Palamedes can name the bones a pen would fit between for safekeeping, but that rather negates the ability to... use the pen, on short notice. Hmm. Fascinating stuff— equally fascinating is Viktor's touch, and the intent way he looks at Palamedes' arm like an actual piece of engineering. It's a very necromancer look, all things considered; he supposes their respective mediums are the key difference, there.
While touch is, ah, on his mind, the next question:] How does wiring and mesh mimic feeling?
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he resists the urge to clear his throat and offers,] Harrow- yes, I'd like to meet her. I'm curious in general about the people from your world, they sound an interesting group.
[he places a fingertip over a certain area just below the elbow, a click of his tongue as he decides,] Spring-loaded tends to lack the longevity I prefer for prosthetic work, though it could do. A push latch if it could be made small enough would be an option.
[good question pal, in arcane it's mostly drugs and aesthetic as far as anyone can tell. at least this hypothetical wouldn't run on highly illegal drugs, probably just lunar energy and maybe a little blood, eventually. that's normal enough here though, right.]
With a lot of trial and error. [viktor snorts, glancing up from where his fingers still rest lightly on pal's skin.] Mostly it mimics electrical currents. It loses most range of feeling and sensitivity but... well, we would just have to do better if you ever needed it.
[ugh. he glances back down at pal's wrist.] But of course better you never need it, thus the weapon building I mentioned.
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You're sure to meet Gideon when you meet Harrow, [he gestures with his other hand, like, so as not to explain They Are a Necro-Cav Pair in so many words, since Viktor can put that together himself by this point,] They're— excellent, in a word. Harrow is a genius, and I've never met anyone with a heart bigger than Gideon's.
[And they're likely to both sputter about either of those comments, so feel free to quote him on this as long as he gets to be in the room. Those girls...]
A push latch; where would you put the 'push'?
[Could he, with this hypothetical robot arm, do a super cool pen-dispensing move with it, maybe if the push spot were in the palm of the hand or something... He's just thinking of the important logistics, here.]
I'll try not to need it, no matter how interesting it is. [For real, it definitely seems, ah, like it would take some getting used to, and not the kind of patience that he's capable of giving. To say nothing of how a robot arm would handle necromancy - well, never mind; it's only a fun little thought adventure. So is having a pocket weapon, since ugh - carrying! But Viktor wants him to be prepared, so if he's to entertain the idea-]
Alright; what weapons do you think I should try? Remember to consider my mystique, and also my critical lack of upper body strength. And lower body strength, while we're at it.
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They are a necromancer and cavalier? [he really is starting to get it.] Which house are they from? Hm, maybe we can have them over for dinner, that is... what people do, yes?
[god that is so domestic he almost laughs. at least he's pretty sure that's a normal thing roommates just do so. it's probably fine. and they do sound like exactly the sort of people viktor prefers- smart and not assholes. he'll be keeping an eye out.
the bit about the push latch makes him tap at pal's arm as he considers it, and really he should probably let go but not just yet.] Honestly it wouldn't be hard to put it wherever you'd like. The palm would be a little tricky but that just makes the work more interesting.
[he finally moves his hands away, unfortunate, mind to weapons with a little furrowed brow.] If you had good aim I'd say a gun, maybe a taser of some sort even with unfortunate aim. I am... not an expert on weapons either, in truth. Or known for my incredible body strength and natural dexterity.
[extremely dry.] But since you have a better chance of fleeing a threat a taser really wouldn't be a terrible idea. I suppose for a beast it would need to be able to dole out a very high charge.
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Ninth. [And more importantly,] If you want them to come to dinner, you'll be opening the floodgates. How do you feel about having a party in the field outside? With fireworks? I might have given my okay to this plot before you moved in; you can veto, if you like.
[In no way can all of the people who would inevitably come to this dinner and field party fit into this bunker, but the field? Spacious! This is an earnest question, but he softens minutely over Viktor immediately inviting his cool goth friends over for dinner. Mmph. He says,] It could still be just the two of them, sometime. I'll ask when I get a minute.
[But to business,] I don't know anything about guns.
[So probably a taser? Alright? He doesn't know anything about tasers either, frankly, but he trusts Viktor's far superior technological knowledge.]
Do I have to wear it on a belt? Guaranteed I'll look like an idiot.
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[but there's parties to consider apparently, and the question makes him chuckle and wave a hand.] Oh, go right ahead. Noise does not bother me, and it sounds like a good way to show you fireworks, like we discussed. Who is coming to this party, exactly?
[normally he loathes parties but, to be fair, all the parties he's had to deal with in recent years were galas of rich people who liked to ask him if he was jayce's assistant, so he thinks a fireworks party in the yard can have a chance. all the more reason to figure out a way to make sure they won't attract any beasts.] Yes, well... tell them you'll be cooking, that might amuse them.
[since he'll drag pal into helping there at least. part of the lessons and all.]
No you would not, you would look like a man with a belt. [amused.] Do you think it would look better with a thigh holster or loose in a bag?
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[He waves a hand, like, well! So! He can't say no to people when they're mid-breakdown and asking him if they can have a party at his house; so be it. Belatedly he tugs his sleeve back down, giving Viktor a Look over making him cook. Is it time to torture the Ninth? He'll make jam sandwiches in a pinch, which honestly, Gideon might find charming for how, ah, lo-fi cooking it is.
Well, he's prepared to embarrass himself with rudimentary cooking skills, he supposes. For the 'normal people have dinner with friends' aspect of it, at the very least.]
A thigh holster? [viktor he can't go outside without his stupid gray poncho covering everything, all options are silly options] I think I'm going to touch the wrong end at an inopportune time and need to be peeled off the ground.
[Ugh, okay. Do it for Viktor. He acquiesces, hands raised like okay, okay-]
Fine; a belt. But I'm going to look ridiculous.
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[he's not even sure he's technically invited to whatever this is? parties are mysterious. the dinner is much easier insofar as he can figure out something basic for them to cook together and then just... eat and talk. as people do. with a table full of necromancers and necromancer-adjacent, which is not a thing he ever thought he'd have in his life.
either way he's grinning a little the panic thigh holster brings, stalwartly not thinking things like cute in relation to this.] What? I am sure we can find one in grey. Maybe even a different shade, if you are feeling adventurous.
You will not, and I will start working on it for you. It- I would feel better, knowing you had it. [he admits despite himself.] Things happen far too quickly here.
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'Rowdy' is highly likely, in fact. I would mentally prepare for a long night.
[Assuming nobody's world ends over there in that house and prevents this party from happening— here's hoping. Anyway, Viktor, please? He hardly has enough thigh to wrap a holster around, let him rest.]
I'll send the beasts into fits of laughter; that will show them.
[Holsters and belts... can a man not dress like a big gray stick in peace? Viktor is so lucky he said this soft thing instead, or Palamedes would have a full presentation prepared in minutes for why he cannot wear a thigh holster or he will shrivel up at once. Which is to say, he might as well say it out loud:]
Alright— for you. I'd hate to make you worry.
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It will give you more time to tase them. [a shrug.] Think of it this way, you can have pouches on the belt. More room for notepads.
[and stolen pens. he offers pal a smile back, isn't sure how to say something like even if he didn't owe pal many times over now he'd want to do this for him. that living outside of that expected give and take is terrifying but thrilling in turn.]
Thank you. [not exactly a speech but he has to glance away regardless.] I think I've kept you up long enough tonight though, between all the drama. I may head to the lab to get a start on this project. [and think about how one faces feelings. what to say, what to do.]
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Tempting him with notepads, though - devious. He scoffs, but-]
One pouch; I can't handle more than that.
[Neither can he control the flicker of open worry that crosses his face when Viktor wants to go out to the lab— sir? Right now? Well- this has been a fairly exhausting time, and he does understand the urge to go work on something even through tiredness to excise an unpleasant memory, which nearly turning to silver certainly is! Still. Hmm.]
If you're sure. [What does he say, 'come home if you feel silver'? That's too much.] Later— I'll check in. Just for my peace of mind.
[Or: do not leave him on read again!!]
no subject
his expression softens a touch before he holds out a finger in indication to wait, leaning over for his bag and fishing out a key. he presents it with a quirk of his brow, just a typical key, maybe brass, fitting with the clunky look of his lab door.]
I finally had more made. For you, you are- of course you are welcome to come down whenever you wish. [and a little sheepishly he offers,] And I promise if I see anything like the mimic lurking you will be the first to know. As you said, a work in progress, yes?
no subject
[Learning about lawns and other worldly things, etc. Although, what's this- his brow furrows briefly, while Viktor digs in the bag, then- oh! Oh, a key of his very own at last, that is- a gesture, that both delights him (lab key! lab key!) and turns his insides to mush. Ah; a whole key...
He takes it, laying it flat on his palm and then sort of bouncing it once, twice, before closing his hand around it almost protectively. The last time he got his hands on a clunky key, it was terrible in every way - this is much improved.]
Thank you. For this, and for, you know. [letting him worry; he nods,] A work in progress. I'll see you when you get back.