[ jayce walks so much and for days on end around the city in search of only two things: supplies, which included food, and viktor. the empire state building was the very last location he had gotten from the connection with his wayward partner, but other than that, he falls short of both a conclusive destination as well as concrete answers for anything happening here at all. anyone he's come across hasn't seen him, either— which is a massive pain and just another ache to add to the pile.
it brings him to narrowing his options of places viktor would investigate and hope their paths aligned on time. jayce has managed to keep slim, stale meals from the shopfronts salvaged, and a singular mutated squirrel that had landed in his trap to keep him fed for a day or two. meats are rationed and suplimented with canned corn, but his energy was not. it does not help the metal of his brace, meant for a battle-ready pinch now digging raw bites into his joints, poorly prepared for its user's comfort rather than practicality. the chaffing burns angry holes in his flesh, but he carries on. the bone and its shitty setting aches, but he continues with one goal above survival: find viktor. that's all he needed to do— find viktor and knock some damn sense into him.
he's found himself in an engineering university's research wing, plenty of rummaging through tour books and images to get some direction without necessarily needing to read the language. he's tried some things, based on the network and some clues his written down in a withered notebook puffed at the seams from humidity and mold. perhaps viktor would, or could, gravitate to his interests. shared interests, at that.
what jayce hadn't been counting on was the flooring. seemingly sturdy surfaces would betray his trek when he least expected it, beginning to moan under him just as he was enthralled in the advanced set of microscopes sitting like phantoms on top of a double desk. the files and binders remain untouched, damn it all that he can't read this—
the snapping choruses and piles until jayce gasps, pushes against it to move out of the way— but that's exactly what caves the floor under him. jayce yells on the sinister way down, his weight caving the rest of the brittle, rotting wood numbering each level. each one was a heftier impact, losing count in between the major scrapes and hits he suffers.
until he finally stops falling, lands dead set on flimsy metal shelvings back first, where those too cave beneath his weight. the back of his head ricochets from impact— and he blacks the fuck out. ]
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for just a moment
it brings him to narrowing his options of places viktor would investigate and hope their paths aligned on time. jayce has managed to keep slim, stale meals from the shopfronts salvaged, and a singular mutated squirrel that had landed in his trap to keep him fed for a day or two. meats are rationed and suplimented with canned corn, but his energy was not. it does not help the metal of his brace, meant for a battle-ready pinch now digging raw bites into his joints, poorly prepared for its user's comfort rather than practicality. the chaffing burns angry holes in his flesh, but he carries on. the bone and its shitty setting aches, but he continues with one goal above survival: find viktor. that's all he needed to do— find viktor and knock some damn sense into him.
he's found himself in an engineering university's research wing, plenty of rummaging through tour books and images to get some direction without necessarily needing to read the language. he's tried some things, based on the network and some clues his written down in a withered notebook puffed at the seams from humidity and mold. perhaps viktor would, or could, gravitate to his interests. shared interests, at that.
what jayce hadn't been counting on was the flooring. seemingly sturdy surfaces would betray his trek when he least expected it, beginning to moan under him just as he was enthralled in the advanced set of microscopes sitting like phantoms on top of a double desk. the files and binders remain untouched, damn it all that he can't read this—
the snapping choruses and piles until jayce gasps, pushes against it to move out of the way— but that's exactly what caves the floor under him. jayce yells on the sinister way down, his weight caving the rest of the brittle, rotting wood numbering each level. each one was a heftier impact, losing count in between the major scrapes and hits he suffers.
until he finally stops falling, lands dead set on flimsy metal shelvings back first, where those too cave beneath his weight. the back of his head ricochets from impact— and he blacks the fuck out. ]