[ If Viktor still had the ability to move his face, to emote, his eyebrows would be furrowing as a mirror of Jayce's scowl while one corner of his mouth lifted in a confused grimace; as it is, he can't make facial expressions willingly or otherwise, and so remains stoic. Still, the jab hits home in his chest because Jayce is right on the money. ]
Of course I didn't. [ He doesn't think he needs to explain that he assumed Jayce would be better off without a living machine lumbering around behind him, looming over him, scaring off potential allies in a place where they seem incredibly necessary. Viktor hadn't planned for Jayce to want to be with him and so decided it was better to rip the bandage off himself rather than risk finding him only to be met with disgust or fear or, worst of all, total indifference.
Making a humming noise that sounds like an engine coming to life, an indication he's about to speak, Jayce's follow-up silences him. He hadn't been fishing for reassurance and yet it came all the same. Perhaps it's familiarity in the face of strangers in a strange land, or genuine desire to rekindle a friendship, but there's no trace of a lie in his words. ]
Why? [ Jayce leans against Viktor who in turn leans on the banister as they ascend the stairs, Viktor two at a time though at half the pace of his armful to allow him as much stability as possible.
[ we don't know that jayce thinks, and unease sinking in his chest but manages to drown behind jayce's mortal enemy: these stairs. as much as viktor aids and slows down for him, jayce still motions every once in a while for him to stop. his grimace becomes more about the pain, on top of his raging body's fatigue. contesting to his moving around is becoming an occurance, but jayce pushes forward when he thinks he can shoulder more, his grips tight on viktor as much the railing closest to him.
he took climbing zaun. he could take this. ]
Because, [ jayce huffs with extertion, but managing, pausing only for his voice to go surprisingly, incredibly soft. ] you're my partner.
[ for a millisecond, jayce thought something else. he dusts it quickly under the rug. partners has always been . . . all they needed. everything and more. another definition for what they were would just give him another headache, and more reason to deny why his face still felt a tingling hot-cold. it's the damn weather. ]
[ The climb is slow going, but at least they are tackling it at a steady pace. It also allows for moments where the conversation lulls as Jayce has to catch his breath or Viktor takes a second to lean against the wall. He could easily throw out a comment about needing to focus energy on getting out of here, but he also begrudgingly acknowledges that they need to talk about this sooner or later—might as well be when they're facing a problem together like old times.
A wheeze of air leaves him like a sigh or the rush of air from bellows to stoke a forge. He's still getting used to the unusual noises he makes, the half-there emotions expressed through a machine running on unknown energy. Viktor is still stunned that he even works without arcane magic powering him, but perhaps the goddess who had dragged him here was able to substitute her own magic. To what end? That was an important question hanging at the back of his mind. ]
You didn't want to be my partner last time I asked. [ If there is a hint of a pout in his voice, no there isn't. He's well aware that the offer had been one that Jayce couldn't accept, yet it had still stung to think that the one person always at his side would continue to betray him—learning that it was in a weird, twisted loyalty to a future version of Viktor didn't soften that blow.
Silence to a moment as they crest the first landing; one story worth of stairs left to go. ] Sorry, that was... childish. But you can't pretend that your actions haven't been confusing.
[ they both know that, but it doesn't mean that jayce doesn't still feel a blow knock the wind out of him with a pause, beat and sigh before he's pulling himself up another case. ]
I know. [ gods, he knows. and it pained him over and over but at this point, he felt like he was repeating himself. turning his head hurts, the wince breaching his eyelids with a flicker before he forces his gaze forward. ahead. the harmed muscle from being crushed in viktor's vice still left behind its mark yet to heal, reminding jayce that he has his own contusions about all this— physically and emotionally. ] It was confusing for me, too.
[ sometimes it still is goes unsaid, but not unfelt. his feelings are so focused and at the same time so all over the place. he sees viktor and he sees the broken face of the arcane herald. he sees his partner and never wants to let him slip away again. he hears all this revving and purring and underneath it all it still sounds like viktor huffing and clicking his tongue under schematics and a chalkboard. it's different. it's all completely different yet it is still viktor. ]
I want to try again. No interference.[ no hexcore, no politics, to terrorist attacks or future selves. he barely shakes his head; it's too stiff for that. ] Just us.
[ Just us. What an idealistic concept, to consider that they could live in a vacuum while untangling all of the confusion between them, within them. Perhaps if they had ended up in a less hostile environment—Viktor doesn't pretend to believe in an afterlife, doesn't waste a thought on both of them ending up in the peaceful one—there would have been more of an opportunity to focus on their friendship rather than pure survival.
Still, it's... nice. He believes Jayce even if he doesn't totally trust him yet. Trust was something that could be rebuilt, but belief requires a leap of faith that Viktor somehow always has the heart for when it comes to Jayce. ]
Where do we start? [ It's a raw, vulnerable question for someone encased in living armor. Viktor doesn't have the same experience with befriending people as Jayce does, isn't exactly charismatic with strangers. This is new territory for both of them; then again, who has experience with fighting a partner on a cosmic level? ]
[ jayce pauses; he knows the answer to this, and it comes with a hopeful creep, slower than this deathly climb he wishes could end. at the top of the last flight, jayce handles a supporting rail and turns fully to viktor, both to catch his breath as well as tell him something important, eye to eye. he even reaches out, to touch the edge of viktor's arm as an indicator to meet him, in this half-turn. ]
With honesty. [ his brows slant breifly, his lips thin— but he pushes his words, trying not to sound upset by it and failing, by a smidge. ] No more hiding things, no more half-truths. I don't care how bad it is— if we're going to do this, you have to let me see you . . . All of you.
[ every part that he loves, but repeating that a second time (or third? he barely remembers his hypothermic-concussed babbling) outloud threatens to squeeze his chest tight and expose every bit of entangled emotion more raw than ever. there is almost, almost a plea to the man's gaze, briefly on the viel hiding part of viktor's face. in the meantime, jayce searches for his partner in the glow of a single golden orb of an eye, then drifts to his other faces, the ones he's more familiar with, split and shed like an insect's useless shell. it's not useless to him. it's missed, but he can adapt. he can accept. he sees him. or, feels him, at least— that desire to connect and the faith he has in him to even be asking— jayce will not mess this up for them. not again, not ever. if he's going to make another promise, it's this one. his head bobs, stiff but affirming to add: ]
[ Viktor stops short a few steps below Jayce, meeting his eyes at level rather than looming down from above. From this angle, the wrinkles on Jayce's face are more obvious, less hidden beneath the shag of his hair and the furrow of his brows. It's almost unbelievable how different he is from the fresh-faced golden boy Viktor had known for so long, miraculous that beneath the worn lines is that same young man who had captured Viktor's imagination through words on a page and passionate rants on the edge of a cliff.
Honesty. There are things he cannot be honest about, truths that would hurt far more than they could ever help. Viktor tucks those away deep inside of him, a vault that has grown over the years as he's made room to house more secrets: the temptation to mirror Jayce's smile anytime it's wide enough to reveal the gap in his teeth, the comfort he feels any time Jayce begins to hum under his breath, the familiarity of his footsteps so Viktor would always know when he was coming down the hallway. There are so many private little quirks and moments that have all piled up to create one big truth that Viktor can never bring himself to share. Everything else, though, could be a starting point. ]
Alright. [ He agrees even before Jayce amends that he's being held accountable, too, having assumed as much. If they're going to find their way back to being partners, the street would be going both ways, as they say.
Feeling Jayce's eyes linger on him, Viktor resists the urge to let himself rankle and instead reaches up to remove his veil. With it goes some of his awareness of the magic around them, the buzz of consciousnesses on the edge of connection, ready to be reached with a moment of concentration. He feels vulnerable as he reveals his face fully, looking down between them rather than meeting Jayce's gaze any longer. ]
This is what I am now. I... wanted to avoid you seeing me like this. [ He's pretty certain that Jayce had gleaned as much already, but if they're being honest, then there's no time like the present. Here I am, he thinks as his long fingers twist in the veil he's clutching on one hand, Broken and powerless again. ] I could not stomach the thought of your pity, or worse, your fear.
[ the viel comes off, and something shifts for jayce. the meaning of it, of coaxing viktor out of his insecurity once more, as many times as it took. his features shift with him, from inwardly, anxiously waiting to a drop of relief that pinches jayce's brows in warm welcome. there is no pity. definitely not fear. there is something that goes unnamed, nor unnoticed. through jayce's pain, his thin pressed lips curve just enough through it.
there you are, he thinks, even if what looks back at him from the honeycomb cracks was not viktor's prior face, but holes and webs of matter conjured by the anomaly. by the hexcore, where ekko had thrown the zdrive and gave jayce the very time he needed. imperfectly perfect.
it is much like their other grievances: jayce feels sorry for it. but he can't regret it— not if he had his partner back from the hexcore's vicegrip. the way the muscles on jayce's facd crease his wrinkles, his crow's feet, his deeper eyebags— it is the only semblance of joy that he could have as his reassurance bubbles up, unnannounced.
that is viktor. that is the man he'd go to the edge of the world for. that he'd doom timelines for. that he'd seek, again and again, even through his bitterness. it becomes bittersweet. jayce looks for viktor's eye, anyway, and nearly beams if they were to meet his in the dreary wear of his rattled, messy stature. ]
You won't find that here. Not from me.
[ jayce doesn't expect it to bridge the gaps or balm the scrapes they've suffered. but for a moment, it feels hopeful. and that's all he needs.]
[ Though he hadn't truly expected Jayce to react with any outward disgust or fear, at best assuming that Jayce would be able to hide it for the benefit of them working things through, Viktor still can't ignore the small blossom of hope that takes seed in his heart. There's no flinching, no clenching of the jaw or swallowing against a mouth suddenly dry with fright. Jayce is there, and he's looking at Viktor, and they just... are.
Looking up at Jayce to meet his gaze with one eye, he busies himself for a moment with tucking his veil into the tattered fabric around his neck. He's still clad in Jayce's blanket, or what's left of it, and Jayce still has the runic shawl that had been gifted to Viktor upon arrival. A mirror, in some ways, and a dream in many others. ]
Good. [ He nods a little, feeling awkward standing there just looking at each other. The veil is such a tempting comfort but he resists to take the last couple of steps up to stand on the landing with Jayce. ] Then we should go.
[ jayce's gaze flutters into blinking, only now aware he's been staring perhaps a bit too long for the comfort of them both. they've got some ways to go, so— agreed. with a nod, jayce wobbles after viktor. his pacing is slow moving, the same in needing short breaks to hold his head or stave the occasional nausea from vertigo. otherwise, they'll probably make it back to the museum in under an hour.
it goes without saying: when he manages to balance the throbbing migraine and the silence, jayce has questions about magic. that would be, perhaps, the one thing keeping their trek going fluidly.
there's hope for them. he sees it— he wished he could cradle it rather than stretch for it, just out of stiff reach. day by day, then. the outlook was promising. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Of course I didn't. [ He doesn't think he needs to explain that he assumed Jayce would be better off without a living machine lumbering around behind him, looming over him, scaring off potential allies in a place where they seem incredibly necessary. Viktor hadn't planned for Jayce to want to be with him and so decided it was better to rip the bandage off himself rather than risk finding him only to be met with disgust or fear or, worst of all, total indifference.
Making a humming noise that sounds like an engine coming to life, an indication he's about to speak, Jayce's follow-up silences him. He hadn't been fishing for reassurance and yet it came all the same. Perhaps it's familiarity in the face of strangers in a strange land, or genuine desire to rekindle a friendship, but there's no trace of a lie in his words. ]
Why? [ Jayce leans against Viktor who in turn leans on the banister as they ascend the stairs, Viktor two at a time though at half the pace of his armful to allow him as much stability as possible.
Why do you persist? ] Piltover is safe.
no subject
he took climbing zaun. he could take this. ]
Because, [ jayce huffs with extertion, but managing, pausing only for his voice to go surprisingly, incredibly soft. ] you're my partner.
[ for a millisecond, jayce thought something else. he dusts it quickly under the rug. partners has always been . . . all they needed. everything and more. another definition for what they were would just give him another headache, and more reason to deny why his face still felt a tingling hot-cold. it's the damn weather. ]
And you always will be.
no subject
A wheeze of air leaves him like a sigh or the rush of air from bellows to stoke a forge. He's still getting used to the unusual noises he makes, the half-there emotions expressed through a machine running on unknown energy. Viktor is still stunned that he even works without arcane magic powering him, but perhaps the goddess who had dragged him here was able to substitute her own magic. To what end? That was an important question hanging at the back of his mind. ]
You didn't want to be my partner last time I asked. [ If there is a hint of a pout in his voice, no there isn't. He's well aware that the offer had been one that Jayce couldn't accept, yet it had still stung to think that the one person always at his side would continue to betray him—learning that it was in a weird, twisted loyalty to a future version of Viktor didn't soften that blow.
Silence to a moment as they crest the first landing; one story worth of stairs left to go. ] Sorry, that was... childish. But you can't pretend that your actions haven't been confusing.
no subject
I know. [ gods, he knows. and it pained him over and over but at this point, he felt like he was repeating himself. turning his head hurts, the wince breaching his eyelids with a flicker before he forces his gaze forward. ahead. the harmed muscle from being crushed in viktor's vice still left behind its mark yet to heal, reminding jayce that he has his own contusions about all this— physically and emotionally. ] It was confusing for me, too.
[ sometimes it still is goes unsaid, but not unfelt. his feelings are so focused and at the same time so all over the place. he sees viktor and he sees the broken face of the arcane herald. he sees his partner and never wants to let him slip away again. he hears all this revving and purring and underneath it all it still sounds like viktor huffing and clicking his tongue under schematics and a chalkboard. it's different. it's all completely different yet it is still viktor. ]
I want to try again. No interference.[ no hexcore, no politics, to terrorist attacks or future selves. he barely shakes his head; it's too stiff for that. ] Just us.
no subject
Still, it's... nice. He believes Jayce even if he doesn't totally trust him yet. Trust was something that could be rebuilt, but belief requires a leap of faith that Viktor somehow always has the heart for when it comes to Jayce. ]
Where do we start? [ It's a raw, vulnerable question for someone encased in living armor. Viktor doesn't have the same experience with befriending people as Jayce does, isn't exactly charismatic with strangers. This is new territory for both of them; then again, who has experience with fighting a partner on a cosmic level? ]
no subject
With honesty. [ his brows slant breifly, his lips thin— but he pushes his words, trying not to sound upset by it and failing, by a smidge. ] No more hiding things, no more half-truths. I don't care how bad it is— if we're going to do this, you have to let me see you . . . All of you.
[ every part that he loves, but repeating that a second time (or third? he barely remembers his hypothermic-concussed babbling) outloud threatens to squeeze his chest tight and expose every bit of entangled emotion more raw than ever. there is almost, almost a plea to the man's gaze, briefly on the viel hiding part of viktor's face. in the meantime, jayce searches for his partner in the glow of a single golden orb of an eye, then drifts to his other faces, the ones he's more familiar with, split and shed like an insect's useless shell. it's not useless to him. it's missed, but he can adapt. he can accept. he sees him. or, feels him, at least— that desire to connect and the faith he has in him to even be asking— jayce will not mess this up for them. not again, not ever. if he's going to make another promise, it's this one. his head bobs, stiff but affirming to add: ]
And I'll do the same.
no subject
Honesty. There are things he cannot be honest about, truths that would hurt far more than they could ever help. Viktor tucks those away deep inside of him, a vault that has grown over the years as he's made room to house more secrets: the temptation to mirror Jayce's smile anytime it's wide enough to reveal the gap in his teeth, the comfort he feels any time Jayce begins to hum under his breath, the familiarity of his footsteps so Viktor would always know when he was coming down the hallway. There are so many private little quirks and moments that have all piled up to create one big truth that Viktor can never bring himself to share. Everything else, though, could be a starting point. ]
Alright. [ He agrees even before Jayce amends that he's being held accountable, too, having assumed as much. If they're going to find their way back to being partners, the street would be going both ways, as they say.
Feeling Jayce's eyes linger on him, Viktor resists the urge to let himself rankle and instead reaches up to remove his veil. With it goes some of his awareness of the magic around them, the buzz of consciousnesses on the edge of connection, ready to be reached with a moment of concentration. He feels vulnerable as he reveals his face fully, looking down between them rather than meeting Jayce's gaze any longer. ]
This is what I am now. I... wanted to avoid you seeing me like this. [ He's pretty certain that Jayce had gleaned as much already, but if they're being honest, then there's no time like the present. Here I am, he thinks as his long fingers twist in the veil he's clutching on one hand, Broken and powerless again. ] I could not stomach the thought of your pity, or worse, your fear.
no subject
there you are, he thinks, even if what looks back at him from the honeycomb cracks was not viktor's prior face, but holes and webs of matter conjured by the anomaly. by the hexcore, where ekko had thrown the zdrive and gave jayce the very time he needed. imperfectly perfect.
it is much like their other grievances: jayce feels sorry for it. but he can't regret it— not if he had his partner back from the hexcore's vicegrip. the way the muscles on jayce's facd crease his wrinkles, his crow's feet, his deeper eyebags— it is the only semblance of joy that he could have as his reassurance bubbles up, unnannounced.
that is viktor. that is the man he'd go to the edge of the world for. that he'd doom timelines for. that he'd seek, again and again, even through his bitterness. it becomes bittersweet. jayce looks for viktor's eye, anyway, and nearly beams if they were to meet his in the dreary wear of his rattled, messy stature. ]
You won't find that here. Not from me.
[ jayce doesn't expect it to bridge the gaps or balm the scrapes they've suffered. but for a moment, it feels hopeful. and that's all he needs.]
no subject
Looking up at Jayce to meet his gaze with one eye, he busies himself for a moment with tucking his veil into the tattered fabric around his neck. He's still clad in Jayce's blanket, or what's left of it, and Jayce still has the runic shawl that had been gifted to Viktor upon arrival. A mirror, in some ways, and a dream in many others. ]
Good. [ He nods a little, feeling awkward standing there just looking at each other. The veil is such a tempting comfort but he resists to take the last couple of steps up to stand on the landing with Jayce. ] Then we should go.
and that's a wrap!
it goes without saying: when he manages to balance the throbbing migraine and the silence, jayce has questions about magic. that would be, perhaps, the one thing keeping their trek going fluidly.
there's hope for them. he sees it— he wished he could cradle it rather than stretch for it, just out of stiff reach. day by day, then. the outlook was promising. ]