[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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[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?
no subject
[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.
no subject
[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.
no subject
'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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.