[ 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. ]
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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. ]