ar_cane | somnia

[ Viktor can feel some of what Jayce leaves unspoken; pain, of course, but also guilt sitting sour beneath it. It's a step in the right direction that Jayce is asking him for help instead of insisting that he's some pillar of strength, the lone golden boy capable of shouldering the world and its problems. This feels closer to the days when they would work on problems together, puzzling through solutions in the lab, though it was usually Viktor's body on the proverbial table rather than the other way around. ]

Why are you sorry? [ Already on the move, he follows his faint understanding of Jayce's general location—something that he still doesn't understand but is thankful for at times. It's probably more of this world's strange magic that manifests so differently from the arcane of home while managing to be eerily familiar. ] And what is the closest landmark you can see?

[ he knows he could count on viktor for this— and on one hand, he's relieved. on the same hand, jayce would always think better me than him. there is a touch of shame there, though, knowing that this was more troublesome than a stimulating equation he wasn't getting the answer to, or needed new perspective for. this was a pain. this was senseless waste, as he once heard viktor say. at least, there is reprive in knowing that jayce only fought back to defend himself. nothing more, and gods could he have unleashed something awful.

the tang is still tingling on his tongue. he swallows it down in hopes to water it, and waves his hand helplessly, until it falls onto his unharmed thigh. ]

Trouble's always finding me, I guess.

[ the matter was about where he was, now. he can't see the street name, doesn't think he needs it. he'd have to stand to look over the counter, but he thinks his memory should suffice. ]

I'm in a Pharmacy. There's a . . . [ jayce pauses to swallow another time, pinching his brows together and waiting for the subtle wave of lightheadedness to pass. ] Fallen food stand just outside.

Perhaps we should work on your hiding skills.

[ There's the hint of a smile in the words even though he physically cannot make the expression. Hopefully, being able to hold on to a bit of humor means that Jayce isn't so injured that there's any immediate danger. Viktor can assume that Jayce would tourniquet any bleeding wounds, and it would take at least a little time for any infection to settle in.

The issue is finding Jayce. Viktor sighs at the generally unhelpful information. ]

And what was the last big landmark you remember? [ A pause as he tries to get a firmer hold on their connection. ] I need you to open your mind to me

[ heh. the crack up in jayce's lips doesn't go unnoticed, or unfelt, returning to the warm little bleed of a smile in viktor's own words. what doesn't help is the brain fog, though. painful and hindering his clarity, jayce takes a few moments to recompose, to think— and effortlessly, open himself up to him. it's like raising an offering, or accepting fait, no fight and no fear.

they've done this before, anyway.

and what viktor will stand through in his mind's eye is what jayce earlier saw: a unique building that looked like layers of a cake. signs and lights broken down to time and decay, posters upon posters of theater pieces. there is one word that sticks out from the rest, a ten minute walk from the musuem.

he takes a crack at what he's learned so far and applies is second language knowledge: ]

Brad . . . Way.

[ he doesn't know how to fucking read (english) ]

[ Finding his way into someone's mind isn't unfamiliar to Viktor, but that mind belonging to Jayce is still fresh and new. He'd spent years on the outside, poking and prodding through questions and hypotheticals and delirious long nights fueled by caffeine; this is something else entirely. Rather than learning the way that Jayce's mind works through its scientific process and the products of thought, Viktor can experience the sparks of ideas and see flashes of images. It's beautiful, if he takes any time at all to appreciate it, which he doesn't because his partner is possibly close to bleeding out somewhere unknown and Viktor needs to get to him fast to keep that brain alive for further exploration.

Viktor dodges anything like a feeling, determined to avoid a feedback loop of pain that would come from touching anything related to Jayce's injury. Focusing on the building, admiring it through Jayce's mind's eye, he also uses the strengthened connection to find his way towards the warm presence that is his partner. Snagging a memory of the sign that Jayce is referencing, he hums a moment while weighing the pros and cons of correcting him right now: pro, it will keep him awake and alert by focusing on linguistics; con, the pain could make him irritable and frustration might cloud his mind. ]

Broadway. When there are two vowels in the same syllable, the first is emphasized, same as with Piltovan.

[ if it is beautiful, it's in the sense that it is non-conventional. where jayce sees buildings, they are no mere pictures taken at the scene and stored in memory. in his mind's eye he sees arquitecture, blueprints, the skeleton structure before the details, in perfect shapes, lines and symmetrical geometry, refined and catalogued per model. heights are estimated with quick equations— child's play for them, a hobby or even a past time. this is quite all normal for jayce.

the correction has him pausing, bewildered, before giving an exhausted, but pleasantly amused huff. ]

Well, look at you, mastering English without me. [ and with a near theatrical wave, endeared and quite fond: ] Show off.

[ It's a mind that Viktor can appreciate for its intricacies and competence, breaking structures down to their engineered bones and mathematical equations. No one in the commune had come close to Jayce's level of brilliance, though they were all valuable and unique in their own ways. This, however, is a mind he could call home, and isn't that a weird thought?

He needs to focus on finding his way to Broadway and then turning in the direction that feels right, following it down until he finds the cake-like building and passes, eyes on the hunt for a overturned food cart and pharmacy. ]

I'm hardly a master. It's just lucky we can communicate with the others here verbally without needed to translate. [ Spotting a familiar scene from Jayce's mind, his pace picks up. ] I just wish we had answers about how I'm able to spontaneously learn the written language.

[ it takes a while for jayce to answer back, only a few moments— he's still there, still awake, just feeling sluggish, painful and the tourniquet is making his leg go numb. ]

Magic, I guess . . .

[ he hasn't heard much else about it on the network link. just something or other that had to do with sex, exploration or going crazy. jayce only took interest in two of those things to occupy his time. one of them leaves him feeling uneasy, but only because of the sudden intrusive thought and that this place would surely fuck with anything.

he's got bone deep hunger branching into three different directions and only two things have softened it like butter; one answer was the crimson stain on his mouth, lips and beard. the other: viktor. ]

Meanwhile, [ he drawls his words out a bit, disappointed, ] I'm getting rashes and going grey.

[ well. cyan. but what's the difference in the dark? ]

[ In those moments, Viktor pushes upon Jayce's brain just enough to encourage it to respond for the sake of keeping him awake. He's almost there, spots the overturned cart exclaiming a sideway HOT DOGS which makes Viktor hope that they were not cooking actual dogs.

The pharmacy is only a short distance away, and Viktor is quick to duck through the broken glass of the front door and search the gloom for Jayce. When he finds him, slumped against a wall and looking just as shitty and ruggedly handsome as always, he huffs and crouches down beside him. ]

It is curious how some of us display magical abilities and others have almost completely changed forms, yet you manage to be stubborn as ever.

[ it was a strange, humming alert at his core, at the back of his mind, a sensitive sixth sense that makes him look around wildly for viktor. as if he'd seen him already in a crowd, just needed to point him out. but he cannot see over the counter, hidden from the sight of the storefront. it's only until he hears glass crackle and creak, lifts his head the best he could to peer over the horizon line of the counter, skips in his chest—

the relief that washes over him is monumental. the flutters that have earlier skipped under his ribs is falling in his chest like paper set to drift to the floor. he wants to say something stupid. he refrains, something perhaps equally stupid takes the would-be remark's place. hi. hello. you're here is what fills his eyes. ]

I would've taken magic, [ oh, the things he would've done to have that. magic. how much he loved magic, to the point that he'd treated it like a beautiful bird, put in a cage rather than set free— and democrotized. jayce wanted the world to see its wonders, allow it to help people the same way it helped him. what were the odds, that the only one that'd truly helped him all along was . . . viktor? he looks momentarily whistful, melancholy even when his teeth flash, tooth gap barely prominent and bone white stained red with the meat he'd bitten into. ] but I don't think it likes me back.

[ a rueful truth, he's afraid . . .

now comes the bad part; his cheek has taken a graze, a smudged curtain of blood that has dried into his facial hair preparing a new scar to be worn along with his wrinkles. the top strap of his brace is biting into his leg to keep the bloodflow contained. where he hovers his hands and looks down upon it. the second leather strap tight, but not as much as the first. right below it, an irregular wound that has burned holes into his pants. entered from the bottom side, clean, exited from the top, everted, at an angle, point-blank. it hurts, like hell, he's sure it's not still in there but fragments were possible. no bone. no artery. just flesh and a dash of luck.

it just had to be his already bad leg. ]

[ The sight of Jayce is both a relief while also stoking the embers of concern within Viktor. He's obviously been in a fight rather than falling into something dangerous, the implications of which rattle Viktor's understanding of this place. Of all the people he's interacted with so far, only one has seemed hellbent on being a threat rather than working with others: Jinx. As he examines more of his partner, eyes coming to rest on the bloody and ragged bullet hole in his pant leg, Viktor feels his body heat and hum louder with silent rage. He'd warned her to stay away from Jayce, but he also knows that her mental state weighed heavily on whether or not she could be expected to stay true to her word. Lucky, at least, that Viktor is equipped to help the healing process. The main question is who started the fight and why.

Impossible, he nearly replies aloud, Magic loves you. He stops himself when he realizes that all of his evidence to this fact originates from himself, from that future version who saved Jayce and his mother to the one so fascinated by the possibilities of Hextech that he'd talked him off a literal ledge. Instead of voicing any of this, he focuses on the much more important task at hand. ]

What happened?

[ Carefully worming his fingers through the hole of the pants while avoiding touching skin, Viktor tugs at the side of the fabric until he rips them apart to create a much bigger and workable hole. They'll have to repair the pants, or find Jayce some new ones, but maintaining clothing is far from Viktor's priorities when there is a leg beneath to heal. ]

[ the slightest movement puts jayce's entire frame on edge, pressing his lips tight together and squeezing his eyes, hands rigid against the floor to grasp at something, anything— gravel or his opposite pants leg. he almost has half the mind to catch viktor's hand, keep it away from the wound— but that is simply a visceral reaction that he's quick to smother. before it can go out, he's sure to keep it firmly retreated, let viktor do his work. that much command on himself, he's got.

with the tear cleaved and only a little jostle that dares to make jayce's grunt painful, the wound is exposed. bloody, soaked and uneven. if they could get another tourniquet, he could take the brace off, if it's in the way, but— oh, shit . . . jayce catches his breath, cants his head and raises his shoulder to explain: ]

She didn't take the truth well.

[ he's going to start with honesty. hiding anything from viktor was going to be disastrous. at least he didn't swing first. he wasn't even looking for a fight. new beginnings. he was taking that seriously. ]

I just— wanted to set things right.

Idiotic. [ Whether he mean Jinx, Jayce, or perhaps both is left unsaid. Reaching behind him, he pulls a small messenger bag to the front of his torso and reaches inside for a bottle of water. Though he knows that he can create it himself, it took more energy than it was worth, and that energy has more important applications like stitching together Jayce's wounded skin. ] Why is it that you always end up bleeding when you try to set things right?

[ Pouring a little water onto the wound, he wipes at the blood with a piece of folded gauze. ] What happened to the bullet?

[ jayce makes it clear in the raise of his brows that he both agrees (whoever is the idiot, the answer is yes) and has no idea. bringing a breath in to speak, jayce immediately tenses at the contact and holds it all in, from the protesting shout his throat swallows to keeping his leg still. the rawness left from the disinfection's flare leaves the wound delicate, but at least the pain in cleaning up is nothing in comparison. jayce proves he can take it well with his insane pain threshold, forged iin the darkness of an alternate zaun. ]

It's out— clean through.

Small blessings.

[ With all of the necessary knowledge gleaned, he silently sets to work crouched there next to Jayce like a spindly bug, all limbs and knobby joints. He pours a bit more water into the lid of the bottle, ready to be dabbed at with a fresh piece of gauze which gets draped over the open lip. With the rudimentary doctor's sink readied, he reaches back into his satchel and withdraws a small vial of liquid that look like water in this dim back corner but, if it were to catch the light, would gleam gold. Carefully holding it in his left hand, his right returns into his bag to get a small brush just big enough to easily fit into the vial. ]

I'm not sure how this is going to feel for you. I'm still experimenting with healing. [ Luckily, he's incredibly knowledgeable of the human body as well as more minute details such as cell structures. He's confident that he can close up both entry and exit wounds as well as kickstart the natural healing process, but there's no telling what kind of sensations that will create for Jayce. Viktor knows, too, that he'll feel some of the pain.

Removing cork from vial and dipping brush into liquid, he begins to deftly draw on his left palm a combination of arcane runes and those seemingly native to this city, the language other than English that has been sent to them in fits and bursts. The latter is more difficult to call to mind than the former, Sleep's symbols requiring far more focus to maintain in his mind. When he's satisfied with his work, he doesn't waste time asking if Jayce is ready before pressing his hand over the wound for fear of letting the writing dry if he hesitates.

Light flares out from between the skin of Jayce's leg and the metal surface of Viktor's palm, and instantly he can tell that he'd been cocky to think this might be easy. This isn't as simple as connecting two wires to create a current, it's wrestling with the energy itself and trying to force it into a target with his bare hands. If he were human, if he had skin that could sweat and teeth to grit, he would certainly be doing both, but instead he's deadly quiet as he focuses on the spell and urging it to take. ]

[ he's a guniea pig, well— no qualms with that, either. if this were a less urgent experiment involving his own wounds, jayce would find it fascinating, and certainly he'd be one of the first to volunteer as tribute. hell, he finds viktor's process facinating now and wishes to learn more. about what he hasn't asked about, yet. it's too bad that now's not the time for another joke to ease his tension, but he catalogues it for later anyway. and it's a good thing jayce braces himself anyway— it comes with being alert to the prospect of pain, and perhaps quiety attuned to viktor's intent without being aware of it. he thinks it comes with watching the man's nimble fingers, now much larger than his own, work. better be safe than sorry, right? he gathers his damp scarf into his mouth, just in case. better a bit than garner unwanted attention.

and he was right to.

jayce's entire body seizes, like taking a loaded shock strapped to a chair. he grits, strains and muffles the shriek of his dolor into his shabby scarf. it was worse than the rubbing alcohol. it was like trying to thrust a screw into too tight a space, then hammering it through the rest rather than twisting, until the seams cracked at its impact point.

and scream he continues, until he slumps back, quiets and relaxes at the tail end of the spell. perfectly fine, perfectly alive. simply rebooting. ]

[ Viktor had been prepared for Jayce to feel pain, but what comes as a shock is feeling it begin in his own hand and spread higher the longer the spell works. He's superheating, the purple metal of his skin turning blue first at his fingers and then his wrist, and by the time the color has reached his elbow, the tips of his fingers are more of a watery green. There's a high-pitched whine coming from somewhere as well, close enough that it mixes with Jayce's scream to fill Viktor's ears. Beneath it all, locked in his mind as he concentrates on the spell and not giving in to the searing pain, is his own mental yell contained away from their connection and the greater network of minds out there.

The spell cuts off abruptly as if it had enough momentum to finish sealing Jayce's wound with a final pop of energy. It leaves Viktor shivering, hand still outstretched and resting his palm fulling against Jayce's bare leg where there's a moment of electricity, feedback looping between them. With a shaky breath that's too close to a moan, Viktor pulls his hand away and presses the backside to his face to find shining tears trailing down his cheek. ]

[ a few seconds after the blackout, jayce sluggishly comes to, and startles himself upright in the process. the wind catches in his chest and the sheer force of the prior pain has subsided into tingles, twinges and a consistent tickling in the same manner a sleeping foot would prick. easing his breathing back into soundness, jayce one good look at viktor, his hand clasped to his thigh, and—

jayce's gloved hand hesitates, but soon his own palm rests on top of viktor's, breathes and searches his fractured face for something like home, prepared to wibble a thank you that grows more and more awed at the fact that viktor used magic. on him. for him. he distinctly remembers colors swapping like the heat ignited at the forge.

the spark comnects, their breathing synchs; jayce's pupil swell and every agitated nerve in him goes quiet with calm. ]

Viktor—

[ there is one singular drop that steals the spotlight: the color is a shimmer of gold that jayce thought he never saw before, but— he did. something oddly familiar, just some moments prior.

jayce's jaw goes mildly slack with surprise. ]

That's what you used?

[ The feeling humming through Viktor's body is a paradox, familiar pain mixed with unfamiliar pleasure. It feels perverse to have experienced anything like enjoyment after the sheer effort that had been the spell, yet being able to pull it off, to see the blood dry up and leave behind fresh skin, to know that he'd had the power over a human body—

It startles him to feel the weight of a hand on his, and the first instinct is to flinch away but it's overwritten by the calm that comes with Jayce being close. He'd be annoyed if he had the room to feel any more emotions, but his mind and body are both at capacity already. Clearing his throat, he folds his hand around Jayce's to move it away and then gently places it back on Jayce's leg. ]

Of course. [ He keeps his voice even, academic, as he reaches for the vial and lifts it to his cheek. ] It's the only fluid my body still produces.

[ jayce could easily say the same. for what all that unbearable pain was worth, he's actually healed. viktor has healed him. used magic in his name. his own damn tears or whatever it could be called. it was— beautiful, even in dolor. jayce could see that. and while he wishes to question and ask and ask and ask to satiate scientific curiosity, there is something . . . of much greater priority. it is in the way the suffocating, bone-deep hunger, anger and anxious cold sweats subside at viktor's grounding presence. it is in the way even the maddening itch and irregular pastel chips embedded in his skin, under his clothes has soothed, now. like applying a balm. it is in the way jayce's breath catches when he feels viktor about to retreat, and his heart's pleading for him to stay. it is is as fufilling as it is missing. closeness at a distance. intimacy at a secure orbit that leaves . . . something to be desired. jayce can only describe it as missing what they used to have.

this leaving and staying nonsense is starting to become a habit, isn't it? jayce just can't seem to bring himself to frustration to the same degree as he'd been some weeks prior. he is . . . tired, right now. he wants peace. he tries not to feel anything beyond understanding resignation when his hands are guided back to being kept to himself. part of jayce still feels foiled, somehow.

like most things these days, he keeps it to himself. strangles it in hopes of never seeing it again, in fact. it's easy enough to sidestep when jayce glances down at his torn pants and runic residue. the urge to apologize once more for the burden surges, but jayce bites it back. ]

. . . Thank you.

[ the look in his eye is earnest. it wants to say so much more than that, but the arch in jayce's brow says even more: he doesn't know how to say more. he's feeling a lot more than he could even begin to put into words. ]

[ Viktor finds it difficult to withdraw his hand from Jayce's, and yet he forces himself to go through with it. Tears are a precious commodity, not because they're rare but because they come in such small quantities yet seem to hold such great potential. He couldn't waste the opportunity to catch this one right after depleting his stores for a spell. There's also a guilt in lingering on Jayce's touch because he wants it for the wrong reasons, yearning for more than companionship and warmth. Perhaps there had been a moment, there at the end that hadn't really been much of an end, where Viktor had thought...

No, that hadn't been the point of Jayce's fight to get in his head. He'd promised that older Viktor to end Hextech, end the arcane, and so end Viktor. Everything had been for a purpose, predicted and calculated to bring about the desired end—everything now is an accident that they're navigating together. He's come to terms with the fact that they can't be parted, both because Jayce is too stubborn to let him go and Viktor, selfishly, doesn't want to be let go. It makes things difficult that he doesn't want to be perceived in his current state and much prefers the times they spend together in shared dreams where he can look human, look somewhat desirable.

Selfish. He'd been the reason for Jayce to die, the reason he'd been dragged here, and now he dares to want more. It's a desire he'll never act on, knowing it would ruin him to finally find something that drove Jayce away for good.

The thanks pulls Viktor from his thoughts and he hums in reply. Their eyes meet and something seizes inside of Viktor's chest to see some of the softness in Jayce's eyes as he looks back upon Viktor's broken, metal face. Silently begging for it to not be pity, he nods. ]

As if I would let you suffer. [ Corking the vial of tears and tucking it back away in his bag, he leans closer to inspect his handiwork. ] Do you think you can stand?

[ something another version of him had, once. whether out of duty or conviction or whatever, and jayce could get it, but hearing such eased him in a way that his resentment, if he had any buried yet, dies out. with his hands fidgeting and pulling his fleeting gaze from becoming quite the long stare (not with anything melancholic and more . . . grateful, wishing to see him and wishing to have him stay for eternity), jayce plants his palms to the floor and begins adjusting. one thing to note is the more agressive, pooled heat at the base of his abdomen has also dissolved. a quiet relief. that was embarrassing. alarming, to find in the mix. ]

It's— A little numb.

[ —oh. duh. with a sudden shake of his head and huff, jayce unstraps the leather belts, releasing the tourniquet and easing the bloodflow back to the limb. he smiles a bit, forgetting the crimson stains on his teeth and flashing his gap in what could've been sheepish as he directs his attention back to fixing the straps at a more proper bind. better this than act flustered (but it's too late for that). ]

I think my staff is, [ he waves, all as he tries to lift himself off the floor by using the counter, the walls. he manages well enough, but testing the weight he can put on it and the angles that protest, to be sure, he points outside and steadies himself at the register. eventually, he comes up short. he can't find it with a simple scan. ] somewhere. Damn it.

[ luckily, they're in a pharmacy. there should be canes and crutches somewhere. if there were, jayce pretends he doesn't see them. that staff was the perfect height, a perfect base for crafting once he found a sharp enough knife to carve away at it. he even had the idea in his head, already. just needed enough paper for the schematic.

but perhaps he's just being stubborn. the tingle makes him grit his teeth as takes a supported step forward, his bad leg as responsive as a noodle; it's the kind of tickle that makes him cringe from sole to thigh, gripping at its top and giving it a few wake up slaps. not with pain, but discomfort.

he'd rather be asking the questions he's lined up in his head. ]

[ Now that the immediate danger has passed, Viktor has the time to notice blood in Jayce's mouth. It's concerning because of the implications it may hold—internal bleeding, or a tongue bit from the pain of healing, or any number of things in-between. Jayce may be focusing on relieving the numbness and adjusting his brace, but Viktor is leaning in close and resisting the urge to grab him by the chin. ]

Did you bite your tongue? Or the inside of your cheek?

[ He stands along with him and holds Jayce at the elbow to help steady him. It would be an easy thing for him to go retrieve the staff, but something about Jayce hobbling forward impatiently makes him snort a scoff of impatience himself. Moving his hand from Jayce's arm to around his waist, he scoops him up and carries him to the door. ]

Blood. Mouth. Explain.

I—

[ oh, the sound jayce makes is startled and indecent. he flusters completely and sputters his words to be put down in an incoherent tremble, turning a similar shade of purple to viktor's evolved muscle mass. he keeps his head low and reaches for the ground with the toes of his boots as soon as possible to signal his return back to eaeth. hr was not ready for that. he was not expecting that. he doesn't even know how to say thanks i guess. the words kind of align, but the embarrassment has him thinking twice about being stubborn again.

it's funny that part of him is still skipping through a field, right with his heart. the hot pool settles right back in his belly and seeps up his neck to invade his face with heat. that's too many emotions to catalogue right now.

for the record, he's grappling with the fact that he liked it, on top of feeling embarrassed, both that it looked like he needed it as much as they buried enjoyment. great. there's nothing better than denial.

jayce attempts to recompose, trying to rub the flush away from his face and failing when it still paints his ears. focus. focus on this. it'll do you better, talis. ]

I . . . I Bit her. [ not out of desperation or planned defense, but when the scuffle was close enough— it's like his primary weapons were teeth rather than fists, or using one of his tools. just raw instinct rather than intellect. it was rather alarming, when he stopped to think about it with more clarity. he always comes up short of an answer. shaking his head, jayce drops his hands close to his sides. ] I don't know what came over me.

[ Viktor hears the sound, feels the struggle, and ignores it. Casting the spell had riled him up in unpleasant ways, unearthing thoughts that would be better off buried forever if he has anything to say about it. There's no future for that line of thinking, no reality at the end of the fantasies. The embers smoldering in his belly may be volatile enough to flare up with the smallest spark, but that doesn't mean he's going to willingly give himself over to the flames.

He's also frustrated about how difficult it had been to get the spell to take and feeling drained from it, no matter how good the final release had felt. Viktor considers himself smart enough to have properly calculated the amount of effort required for healing, especially with the catalyst of something as potent as tears, and yet... It was so different from his mastery of the arcane back on Runeterra, and with so little experience, he's facing the fact that he needs to return to the drawing board with his equations.

So he's not putting Jayce down because he wants to find his staff and return to their museum sooner rather than later. It's still cold outside, far from ideal weather for Jayce to be out on his own yet again. With him held close as Viktor steps out through the broken window at the front of the pharmacy, he can see the flash of Jayce's teeth as he admits to having bitten someone. ]

Her insanity must be contagious. [ It's a cruel sentiment, but he's not exactly Jinx's number one fan at the moment. She had such potential to do good, but she was mired in her love for destruction and pain.

Leaning in closer towards Jayce, Viktor cocks his head to the side. ] Open your mouth, please.

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cw: mentions of past suicide attempt

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