dirt enthusiast
oozey mess
blake kathryn
noise dept.
Love Begins
izzy's playlists!
shark vs the universe
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
AnasAbdin
No title available
KIROKAZE
if i look back, i am lost
Kaledo Art
One Nice Bug Per Day
Show & Tell
No title available
NASA
ojovivo
RMH
macklin celebrini has autism
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Morocco
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@behind-the-progress
When you’re going to change the world, don’t ask for permission.
Independent Viktor blog!
Mostly set between the season 1 timeskip, but can vary depending
Mun is 29
Open to multi shipping (though i have my preferences), AUs, magic anons, NSFW (with non minors)
Muse can be trans or cis depending on how i'm feeling
Mostly mobile user
if i forget to reply feel free to send me a reminder!
uhhh i think that's it! thank you for reading c:
1 x 1 with @behind-the-progress
Somewhere in the distance, Jayce could hear a faint rhythm—metal clashing against metal—as it hammered away without so much as a tremble. His eyes fell to his hands, calloused and bruised skin greeting him as moonlight spilled overhead. Then, his attention turned to his new surroundings, familiarity soon following.
These halls. He knew these halls well.
Without wasting another moment, Jayce hurried through the hallways. His footfalls were heavy and firm against the marble floor, thunderous in sound. Even with an injured leg, his pace remained brisk—never once wavering to the pain that consumed his weary body. Turn after turn, he began to wonder,
Was this another one of his delusions? Was he really here?
For the sake of his sanity, he needed it to be real.
Each fervent step brought him closer to the laboratory, the familiar noise coaxing him to come closer. When he stood at the door, Jayce pressed a tentative hand against the metal, contemplating whether to enter.
"Zkurvysyn." Viktor swore again as that growl registered in his brain. Keep facing away from Jayce, don't let him see-
"Whatever the hell happened to you certainly made you more bold." Though he kept his voice mostly even, his hands trembled when they grabbed at his keys, jingling sounding through the empty street. One attempt to slide it in, then another, until finally he managed to get the key into the lock, turning it and throwing the door open.
"I do not know if I want the answer," Viktor lied through his teeth as they reached the door to his apartment. The click of the lock opening sounded like a gunshot going off. "But what is it that you want...?"
1 x 1 with @behind-the-progress
Somewhere in the distance, Jayce could hear a faint rhythm—metal clashing against metal—as it hammered away without so much as a tremble. His eyes fell to his hands, calloused and bruised skin greeting him as moonlight spilled overhead. Then, his attention turned to his new surroundings, familiarity soon following.
These halls. He knew these halls well.
Without wasting another moment, Jayce hurried through the hallways. His footfalls were heavy and firm against the marble floor, thunderous in sound. Even with an injured leg, his pace remained brisk—never once wavering to the pain that consumed his weary body. Turn after turn, he began to wonder,
Was this another one of his delusions? Was he really here?
For the sake of his sanity, he needed it to be real.
Each fervent step brought him closer to the laboratory, the familiar noise coaxing him to come closer. When he stood at the door, Jayce pressed a tentative hand against the metal, contemplating whether to enter.
Immediately, Viktor's head whipped up at that, and he stared, amber eyes meeting hazel, glimmering with... something. Something even Viktor couldn't parse. But soon enough, he looked back down at the injury, fingers tightening ever so slightly around the ankle, pad of his thumb briefly brushing past his skin.
He wondered if Jayce could feel his pulse pounding through his fingertips.
"This... This looks bad." He murmured eventually, groaning as his knee protested the slow ascent from the floor. "Stay here. Don't put weight on it, trust me, it will only make it worse."
The light in the bathroom turned on automatically as Viktor reached inside to grab the first aid kit. His reflection caught his eye, looking on in horror as he saw his normally pallid cheeks flushed with color. A quick splash of cold water on his face, and he limped his way back to Jayce, sliding back down onto his knees in front of him.
"Brace yourself, this is likely to sting." He said as he sprayed the wound down with isopropyl alcohol.
His hands found sudden grip on the armrest, teeth sinking into the fat of his bottom lip so to stifle a groan. Jayce screwed his eyes shut,
“Fuck.” He growled through his teeth, the sound ragged and as if pulled from the depths of his throat. Finally, when the pain subsided, he opened his eyes and scanned his wounds. The skin shimmered under the faint light, a thin film of skin still healing from the recent gash he acquired.
With his luck, his wounds were most likely infected, judging from the discoloration of his skin. Slowly, Jayce leaned forward in his seat, studying the colored veins that rippled through his gash. Ever since he touched the arcane, it was as if it has weaved itself into his body—forever entwined. Could anything even remove the scourge that was brought upon him?
// admin: you could shorten the thread? Fucking cool.
Viktor stared down at the odd webbing blossoming through his skin, swallowing hard. "You should see someone. A doctor." As he spoke, his fingertips idly traced the intricate pattern. "But I will not force you. Not tonight. You need rest." The dripping of the hydraulics fluid had gone nearly forgotten in the wake of all of this. Maybe the work could be done for tonight. It was probably best to come back with fresh-
He was still tracing Jayce's skin.
"A-Ah, my apologies. I hope that didn't hurt." He tugged Jayce's pant leg down and stood too quickly, ignoring the sharp needles in his knee and hip. "You can stay in my apartment for the night, if you like. I have some of your..." He trailed off. This wasn't his Jayce, so are they really his? "Eh, I have some sweaters that will fit you at home. You look like you could do with a change of clothes."
Jayce could feel his heart hammering in his chest, his skin burning from where Viktor last touched him. It was such a simple action, a lingering touch that left him wanting—yearning—for more. If it wasn’t for his last shred of restraint, he would have pulled Viktor closer, until their bodies were flushed against the other. Yet, when Jayce blinked, he realized that this was neither the place nor the time to rekindle any of his more… adventurous thoughts. There was no telling how Viktor truly felt about him.
Slowly, he stood up from his chair, his taller figure towering over the other man,
“Lead the way.”
Viktor felt his neck strain as he looked up at Jayce. Even the way he carried himself was completely alien to him. But a quick aside to secure the brace back onto his injured leg, the final swig of coffee followed by a crunch of a partially dissolved sugar cube, and they were off.
The clacking of the cane against concrete filled the night air, accentuating the awkward silence that stretched on between them. Was it awkward? Viktor was certainly feeling awkward. Jayce...hell, he couldn't tell what Jayce was thinking. But if he was anything like his Jayce, he didn't much like silence.
"It is lucky that you didn't arrive while my Jayce was around." He let a little smile grace his lips. "He is perfectly fine company, as I am sure you know. All too well, in fact. But I do not want to start any, eh... territorial disputes." It was a big enough space, huge even, but with their desks pushed so close together, chairs nearly touching... it seemed a lot smaller than it was.
Returning his brace proved almost herculean, the pain alone nearly blinding. When it was fully fastened, Jayce made his way for the door, following close behind the other man. There was a slight hobble in his step, a drag on his bad leg. Yet, he kept pace with Viktor, his gaze fixed on the slender back in front of him.
His sharpened features remained set, a stoic expression keeping his mind impervious. There was this crazed, almost dangerous gleam in his eyes—like a cornered animal prepared to strike. Yet, from whatever miracle it was, Jayce kept himself collected, barely hinged to his sanity.
Suddenly, a crooked smile appeared on his face, softening the cracked features along his ragged skin. Somehow, a smile alone made him look… almost normal, as if nothing bad had ever happened.
“Territorial disputes?” Jayce repeated with an almost amusing lilt, “If that were to happen, trust me, I would win.”
Ready with a little quip back, Viktor glanced behind him, only for his breath to catch in his throat, eyes growing wide. He even stilled his walk. This Jayce, with an almost predatory, animalistic look in his eye that unsettled Viktor to the core. A shiver ran down his spine. A thrill within the disconsertion.
After a moment of staring, Viktor quickly turned his head back forward, cane clicking as he started to walk again. He silently thanked Janna that the front of him was facing away from Jayce.
"A-And," Viktor took a breath, a moment to collect himself. "And what claim do you hope to stake?" In just that small moment, he sounded like himself again, collected, calm, but still teasing. "This is his domain, after all. And mine. What makes you think I would let you run, eh...willy nilly in my lab, hm?"
A faint laugh left Jayce, his smile only widening. He always found his smart little remarks amusing. Somehow, even in different timelines, Viktor never lost his wits. Perhaps, that was one of the things that Jayce missed most during his isolation,
“Territorial disputes are settled with a sole victor, no? So, if you were to pick a winner, what is it you want in return?”
Purposefully, Jayce closed the distance, his warm breath ghosting over his nape as he added,
“Besides, your Jayce is a boy compared to me. I know more than him—perhaps, more than he ever will.”
Viktor damn near pitched over as he felt hot breath against the back of his neck. Gripping the handle of his crutch harder, he took a shuddering breath in, looking over his shoulder at Jayce. "I-I see that your time spent in that hellscape certainly made you humble." The goosebumps raised on his skin, and he took another steadying breath.
Janna, please don't look down.
"I-I am not sure what the... what the terms of this whole rigamarole is. And why am I the one meant to judge it?" Viktor sped up, gaze pointedly forward, cheeks growing hotter by the moment. Just another block to go, just one more, and then...
And then he'd be completely alone with Jayce and his untoward thoughts. An Eastern Zaunite curse hissed nearly inaudible through his teeth.
1 x 1 with @behind-the-progress
Somewhere in the distance, Jayce could hear a faint rhythm—metal clashing against metal—as it hammered away without so much as a tremble. His eyes fell to his hands, calloused and bruised skin greeting him as moonlight spilled overhead. Then, his attention turned to his new surroundings, familiarity soon following.
These halls. He knew these halls well.
Without wasting another moment, Jayce hurried through the hallways. His footfalls were heavy and firm against the marble floor, thunderous in sound. Even with an injured leg, his pace remained brisk—never once wavering to the pain that consumed his weary body. Turn after turn, he began to wonder,
Was this another one of his delusions? Was he really here?
For the sake of his sanity, he needed it to be real.
Each fervent step brought him closer to the laboratory, the familiar noise coaxing him to come closer. When he stood at the door, Jayce pressed a tentative hand against the metal, contemplating whether to enter.
Immediately, Viktor's head whipped up at that, and he stared, amber eyes meeting hazel, glimmering with... something. Something even Viktor couldn't parse. But soon enough, he looked back down at the injury, fingers tightening ever so slightly around the ankle, pad of his thumb briefly brushing past his skin.
He wondered if Jayce could feel his pulse pounding through his fingertips.
"This... This looks bad." He murmured eventually, groaning as his knee protested the slow ascent from the floor. "Stay here. Don't put weight on it, trust me, it will only make it worse."
The light in the bathroom turned on automatically as Viktor reached inside to grab the first aid kit. His reflection caught his eye, looking on in horror as he saw his normally pallid cheeks flushed with color. A quick splash of cold water on his face, and he limped his way back to Jayce, sliding back down onto his knees in front of him.
"Brace yourself, this is likely to sting." He said as he sprayed the wound down with isopropyl alcohol.
His hands found sudden grip on the armrest, teeth sinking into the fat of his bottom lip so to stifle a groan. Jayce screwed his eyes shut,
“Fuck.” He growled through his teeth, the sound ragged and as if pulled from the depths of his throat. Finally, when the pain subsided, he opened his eyes and scanned his wounds. The skin shimmered under the faint light, a thin film of skin still healing from the recent gash he acquired.
With his luck, his wounds were most likely infected, judging from the discoloration of his skin. Slowly, Jayce leaned forward in his seat, studying the colored veins that rippled through his gash. Ever since he touched the arcane, it was as if it has weaved itself into his body—forever entwined. Could anything even remove the scourge that was brought upon him?
// admin: you could shorten the thread? Fucking cool.
Viktor stared down at the odd webbing blossoming through his skin, swallowing hard. "You should see someone. A doctor." As he spoke, his fingertips idly traced the intricate pattern. "But I will not force you. Not tonight. You need rest." The dripping of the hydraulics fluid had gone nearly forgotten in the wake of all of this. Maybe the work could be done for tonight. It was probably best to come back with fresh-
He was still tracing Jayce's skin.
"A-Ah, my apologies. I hope that didn't hurt." He tugged Jayce's pant leg down and stood too quickly, ignoring the sharp needles in his knee and hip. "You can stay in my apartment for the night, if you like. I have some of your..." He trailed off. This wasn't his Jayce, so are they really his? "Eh, I have some sweaters that will fit you at home. You look like you could do with a change of clothes."
Jayce could feel his heart hammering in his chest, his skin burning from where Viktor last touched him. It was such a simple action, a lingering touch that left him wanting—yearning—for more. If it wasn’t for his last shred of restraint, he would have pulled Viktor closer, until their bodies were flushed against the other. Yet, when Jayce blinked, he realized that this was neither the place nor the time to rekindle any of his more… adventurous thoughts. There was no telling how Viktor truly felt about him.
Slowly, he stood up from his chair, his taller figure towering over the other man,
“Lead the way.”
Viktor felt his neck strain as he looked up at Jayce. Even the way he carried himself was completely alien to him. But a quick aside to secure the brace back onto his injured leg, the final swig of coffee followed by a crunch of a partially dissolved sugar cube, and they were off.
The clacking of the cane against concrete filled the night air, accentuating the awkward silence that stretched on between them. Was it awkward? Viktor was certainly feeling awkward. Jayce...hell, he couldn't tell what Jayce was thinking. But if he was anything like his Jayce, he didn't much like silence.
"It is lucky that you didn't arrive while my Jayce was around." He let a little smile grace his lips. "He is perfectly fine company, as I am sure you know. All too well, in fact. But I do not want to start any, eh... territorial disputes." It was a big enough space, huge even, but with their desks pushed so close together, chairs nearly touching... it seemed a lot smaller than it was.
Returning his brace proved almost herculean, the pain alone nearly blinding. When it was fully fastened, Jayce made his way for the door, following close behind the other man. There was a slight hobble in his step, a drag on his bad leg. Yet, he kept pace with Viktor, his gaze fixed on the slender back in front of him.
His sharpened features remained set, a stoic expression keeping his mind impervious. There was this crazed, almost dangerous gleam in his eyes—like a cornered animal prepared to strike. Yet, from whatever miracle it was, Jayce kept himself collected, barely hinged to his sanity.
Suddenly, a crooked smile appeared on his face, softening the cracked features along his ragged skin. Somehow, a smile alone made him look… almost normal, as if nothing bad had ever happened.
“Territorial disputes?” Jayce repeated with an almost amusing lilt, “If that were to happen, trust me, I would win.”
Ready with a little quip back, Viktor glanced behind him, only for his breath to catch in his throat, eyes growing wide. He even stilled his walk. This Jayce, with an almost predatory, animalistic look in his eye that unsettled Viktor to the core. A shiver ran down his spine. A thrill within the disconsertion.
After a moment of staring, Viktor quickly turned his head back forward, cane clicking as he started to walk again. He silently thanked Janna that the front of him was facing away from Jayce.
"A-And," Viktor took a breath, a moment to collect himself. "And what claim do you hope to stake?" In just that small moment, he sounded like himself again, collected, calm, but still teasing. "This is his domain, after all. And mine. What makes you think I would let you run, eh...willy nilly in my lab, hm?"
1 x 1 with @behind-the-progress
Somewhere in the distance, Jayce could hear a faint rhythm—metal clashing against metal—as it hammered away without so much as a tremble. His eyes fell to his hands, calloused and bruised skin greeting him as moonlight spilled overhead. Then, his attention turned to his new surroundings, familiarity soon following.
These halls. He knew these halls well.
Without wasting another moment, Jayce hurried through the hallways. His footfalls were heavy and firm against the marble floor, thunderous in sound. Even with an injured leg, his pace remained brisk—never once wavering to the pain that consumed his weary body. Turn after turn, he began to wonder,
Was this another one of his delusions? Was he really here?
For the sake of his sanity, he needed it to be real.
Each fervent step brought him closer to the laboratory, the familiar noise coaxing him to come closer. When he stood at the door, Jayce pressed a tentative hand against the metal, contemplating whether to enter.
Immediately, Viktor's head whipped up at that, and he stared, amber eyes meeting hazel, glimmering with... something. Something even Viktor couldn't parse. But soon enough, he looked back down at the injury, fingers tightening ever so slightly around the ankle, pad of his thumb briefly brushing past his skin.
He wondered if Jayce could feel his pulse pounding through his fingertips.
"This... This looks bad." He murmured eventually, groaning as his knee protested the slow ascent from the floor. "Stay here. Don't put weight on it, trust me, it will only make it worse."
The light in the bathroom turned on automatically as Viktor reached inside to grab the first aid kit. His reflection caught his eye, looking on in horror as he saw his normally pallid cheeks flushed with color. A quick splash of cold water on his face, and he limped his way back to Jayce, sliding back down onto his knees in front of him.
"Brace yourself, this is likely to sting." He said as he sprayed the wound down with isopropyl alcohol.
His hands found sudden grip on the armrest, teeth sinking into the fat of his bottom lip so to stifle a groan. Jayce screwed his eyes shut,
“Fuck.” He growled through his teeth, the sound ragged and as if pulled from the depths of his throat. Finally, when the pain subsided, he opened his eyes and scanned his wounds. The skin shimmered under the faint light, a thin film of skin still healing from the recent gash he acquired.
With his luck, his wounds were most likely infected, judging from the discoloration of his skin. Slowly, Jayce leaned forward in his seat, studying the colored veins that rippled through his gash. Ever since he touched the arcane, it was as if it has weaved itself into his body—forever entwined. Could anything even remove the scourge that was brought upon him?
// admin: you could shorten the thread? Fucking cool.
Viktor stared down at the odd webbing blossoming through his skin, swallowing hard. "You should see someone. A doctor." As he spoke, his fingertips idly traced the intricate pattern. "But I will not force you. Not tonight. You need rest." The dripping of the hydraulics fluid had gone nearly forgotten in the wake of all of this. Maybe the work could be done for tonight. It was probably best to come back with fresh-
He was still tracing Jayce's skin.
"A-Ah, my apologies. I hope that didn't hurt." He tugged Jayce's pant leg down and stood too quickly, ignoring the sharp needles in his knee and hip. "You can stay in my apartment for the night, if you like. I have some of your..." He trailed off. This wasn't his Jayce, so are they really his? "Eh, I have some sweaters that will fit you at home. You look like you could do with a change of clothes."
Jayce could feel his heart hammering in his chest, his skin burning from where Viktor last touched him. It was such a simple action, a lingering touch that left him wanting—yearning—for more. If it wasn’t for his last shred of restraint, he would have pulled Viktor closer, until their bodies were flushed against the other. Yet, when Jayce blinked, he realized that this was neither the place nor the time to rekindle any of his more… adventurous thoughts. There was no telling how Viktor truly felt about him.
Slowly, he stood up from his chair, his taller figure towering over the other man,
“Lead the way.”
Viktor felt his neck strain as he looked up at Jayce. Even the way he carried himself was completely alien to him. But a quick aside to secure the brace back onto his injured leg, the final swig of coffee followed by a crunch of a partially dissolved sugar cube, and they were off.
The clacking of the cane against concrete filled the night air, accentuating the awkward silence that stretched on between them. Was it awkward? Viktor was certainly feeling awkward. Jayce...hell, he couldn't tell what Jayce was thinking. But if he was anything like his Jayce, he didn't much like silence.
"It is lucky that you didn't arrive while my Jayce was around." He let a little smile grace his lips. "He is perfectly fine company, as I am sure you know. All too well, in fact. But I do not want to start any, eh... territorial disputes." It was a big enough space, huge even, but with their desks pushed so close together, chairs nearly touching... it seemed a lot smaller than it was.
Hey... pa? Can I talk to you for a second? - @anastasiaarcane
Of course, vrabec. Is something the matter? Are you alright?
I don't feel happy the way I am... Like... No matter how hard I try I just don't feel androgynous. I've been considering.... surgery...
Ah, yes... Piltover is much more, eh, rigid, in terms of gender presentation than the Undercity. Something I had to get used to when I first immigrated. Did I ever tell you that I used to wear skirts when I lived in Zaun?
*Ahem.* Anyway. Surgery is a big step, Anastasia. Don't be nervous, I'm not saying I don't support it, I would just like to know more. What kind of surgery are you thinking?
I don't know... maybe top surgery. Or maybe height adjustment. Or jaw surgery. I don't know what it is but something just feels wrong with me.
Height extension? You are quite tall already, taller than I am. Top surgery is quite the taxing thing on the body, you will need someone to bathe you, clothe you, *ahem*, help you in the bathroom, until you are able to move your arms properly. Would Jade be willing to assist you? I am afraid with my body I may not be the most...
*Ahem.*
... Apologies, Anastasia. After so long being a parent, I should know how to speak with my own child. I will admit, I am quite unsure of how to approach this. Are you looking for pragmatism, or reassurance? Talk you into, or out of it?
I don't know... I just- Pa, when you look at me, what do you see? Because I still see a small, scrawny, weak girl no matter how many times I hear how tall I am or how broad my frame is. And I never pictured my own self image to be so confusing and contradictory.
Dysphoria. Quite the bitch. *Viktor lays a hand on Anna's shoulder.* You are not going to like how this starts, but bear with me. I see my child. I suppose part of me will always see that scrappy little kid I found on the streets, all those years ago. But looking past that... I see someone who's grown up strong, independent. You, if you will pardon my Noxian, take no shit. What I want to know is what those thugs see when they see you swinging that violin case.
I see a person to be proud of, Anastasia. I am aware that I am not the most... open with my affection. But I hope that you know I love you, no matter what you look like, or how to see yourself.
Hey... pa? Can I talk to you for a second? - @anastasiaarcane
Of course, vrabec. Is something the matter? Are you alright?
I don't feel happy the way I am... Like... No matter how hard I try I just don't feel androgynous. I've been considering.... surgery...
Ah, yes... Piltover is much more, eh, rigid, in terms of gender presentation than the Undercity. Something I had to get used to when I first immigrated. Did I ever tell you that I used to wear skirts when I lived in Zaun?
*Ahem.* Anyway. Surgery is a big step, Anastasia. Don't be nervous, I'm not saying I don't support it, I would just like to know more. What kind of surgery are you thinking?
I don't know... maybe top surgery. Or maybe height adjustment. Or jaw surgery. I don't know what it is but something just feels wrong with me.
Height extension? You are quite tall already, taller than I am. Top surgery is quite the taxing thing on the body, you will need someone to bathe you, clothe you, *ahem*, help you in the bathroom, until you are able to move your arms properly. Would Jade be willing to assist you? I am afraid with my body I may not be the most...
*Ahem.*
... Apologies, Anastasia. After so long being a parent, I should know how to speak with my own child. I will admit, I am quite unsure of how to approach this. Are you looking for pragmatism, or reassurance? Talk you into, or out of it?
Hey... pa? Can I talk to you for a second? - @anastasiaarcane
Of course, vrabec. Is something the matter? Are you alright?
I don't feel happy the way I am... Like... No matter how hard I try I just don't feel androgynous. I've been considering.... surgery...
Ah, yes... Piltover is much more, eh, rigid, in terms of gender presentation than the Undercity. Something I had to get used to when I first immigrated. Did I ever tell you that I used to wear skirts when I lived in Zaun?
*Ahem.* Anyway. Surgery is a big step, Anastasia. Don't be nervous, I'm not saying I don't support it, I would just like to know more. What kind of surgery are you thinking?
Meow meow my meow meow my my meow meow meow meow
1 x 1 with @behind-the-progress
Somewhere in the distance, Jayce could hear a faint rhythm—metal clashing against metal—as it hammered away without so much as a tremble. His eyes fell to his hands, calloused and bruised skin greeting him as moonlight spilled overhead. Then, his attention turned to his new surroundings, familiarity soon following.
These halls. He knew these halls well.
Without wasting another moment, Jayce hurried through the hallways. His footfalls were heavy and firm against the marble floor, thunderous in sound. Even with an injured leg, his pace remained brisk—never once wavering to the pain that consumed his weary body. Turn after turn, he began to wonder,
Was this another one of his delusions? Was he really here?
For the sake of his sanity, he needed it to be real.
Each fervent step brought him closer to the laboratory, the familiar noise coaxing him to come closer. When he stood at the door, Jayce pressed a tentative hand against the metal, contemplating whether to enter.
Immediately, Viktor's head whipped up at that, and he stared, amber eyes meeting hazel, glimmering with... something. Something even Viktor couldn't parse. But soon enough, he looked back down at the injury, fingers tightening ever so slightly around the ankle, pad of his thumb briefly brushing past his skin.
He wondered if Jayce could feel his pulse pounding through his fingertips.
"This... This looks bad." He murmured eventually, groaning as his knee protested the slow ascent from the floor. "Stay here. Don't put weight on it, trust me, it will only make it worse."
The light in the bathroom turned on automatically as Viktor reached inside to grab the first aid kit. His reflection caught his eye, looking on in horror as he saw his normally pallid cheeks flushed with color. A quick splash of cold water on his face, and he limped his way back to Jayce, sliding back down onto his knees in front of him.
"Brace yourself, this is likely to sting." He said as he sprayed the wound down with isopropyl alcohol.
His hands found sudden grip on the armrest, teeth sinking into the fat of his bottom lip so to stifle a groan. Jayce screwed his eyes shut,
“Fuck.” He growled through his teeth, the sound ragged and as if pulled from the depths of his throat. Finally, when the pain subsided, he opened his eyes and scanned his wounds. The skin shimmered under the faint light, a thin film of skin still healing from the recent gash he acquired.
With his luck, his wounds were most likely infected, judging from the discoloration of his skin. Slowly, Jayce leaned forward in his seat, studying the colored veins that rippled through his gash. Ever since he touched the arcane, it was as if it has weaved itself into his body—forever entwined. Could anything even remove the scourge that was brought upon him?
// admin: you could shorten the thread? Fucking cool.
Viktor stared down at the odd webbing blossoming through his skin, swallowing hard. "You should see someone. A doctor." As he spoke, his fingertips idly traced the intricate pattern. "But I will not force you. Not tonight. You need rest." The dripping of the hydraulics fluid had gone nearly forgotten in the wake of all of this. Maybe the work could be done for tonight. It was probably best to come back with fresh-
He was still tracing Jayce's skin.
"A-Ah, my apologies. I hope that didn't hurt." He tugged Jayce's pant leg down and stood too quickly, ignoring the sharp needles in his knee and hip. "You can stay in my apartment for the night, if you like. I have some of your..." He trailed off. This wasn't his Jayce, so are they really his? "Eh, I have some sweaters that will fit you at home. You look like you could do with a change of clothes."
1 x 1 with @behind-the-progress
Somewhere in the distance, Jayce could hear a faint rhythm—metal clashing against metal—as it hammered away without so much as a tremble. His eyes fell to his hands, calloused and bruised skin greeting him as moonlight spilled overhead. Then, his attention turned to his new surroundings, familiarity soon following.
These halls. He knew these halls well.
Without wasting another moment, Jayce hurried through the hallways. His footfalls were heavy and firm against the marble floor, thunderous in sound. Even with an injured leg, his pace remained brisk—never once wavering to the pain that consumed his weary body. Turn after turn, he began to wonder,
Was this another one of his delusions? Was he really here?
For the sake of his sanity, he needed it to be real.
Each fervent step brought him closer to the laboratory, the familiar noise coaxing him to come closer. When he stood at the door, Jayce pressed a tentative hand against the metal, contemplating whether to enter.
Immediately, Viktor's head whipped up at that, and he stared, amber eyes meeting hazel, glimmering with... something. Something even Viktor couldn't parse. But soon enough, he looked back down at the injury, fingers tightening ever so slightly around the ankle, pad of his thumb briefly brushing past his skin.
He wondered if Jayce could feel his pulse pounding through his fingertips.
"This... This looks bad." He murmured eventually, groaning as his knee protested the slow ascent from the floor. "Stay here. Don't put weight on it, trust me, it will only make it worse."
The light in the bathroom turned on automatically as Viktor reached inside to grab the first aid kit. His reflection caught his eye, looking on in horror as he saw his normally pallid cheeks flushed with color. A quick splash of cold water on his face, and he limped his way back to Jayce, sliding back down onto his knees in front of him.
"Brace yourself, this is likely to sting." He said as he sprayed the wound down with isopropyl alcohol.
Hey... pa? Can I talk to you for a second? - @anastasiaarcane
Of course, vrabec. Is something the matter? Are you alright?
1 x 1 with @behind-the-progress
Somewhere in the distance, Jayce could hear a faint rhythm—metal clashing against metal—as it hammered away without so much as a tremble. His eyes fell to his hands, calloused and bruised skin greeting him as moonlight spilled overhead. Then, his attention turned to his new surroundings, familiarity soon following.
These halls. He knew these halls well.
Without wasting another moment, Jayce hurried through the hallways. His footfalls were heavy and firm against the marble floor, thunderous in sound. Even with an injured leg, his pace remained brisk—never once wavering to the pain that consumed his weary body. Turn after turn, he began to wonder,
Was this another one of his delusions? Was he really here?
For the sake of his sanity, he needed it to be real.
Each fervent step brought him closer to the laboratory, the familiar noise coaxing him to come closer. When he stood at the door, Jayce pressed a tentative hand against the metal, contemplating whether to enter.
Whrrr, clank.
The prototype claw hissed as it returned to its resting position, not budging no matter how frantically Viktor waved his his hand around. A wiggle of the fingers earned a twitch from the prongs, but nothing more. He circled his work bench, before spotting an ever growing puddle of slick liquid leaking out of one of the beams.
A hydraulics failure. Perfect. Fantastic.
Viktor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, slumping over on his stool. "Well, thank Janna I did not add the laser yet." He muttered to no one but himself. As his eyes followed the hydraulics fluid slowly creeping across the bench, his fingers traced the notes on the schematics. A big, blocky script, and a quavering chickenscratch, trading ideas and little bits of praise. He smiled ever so slightly, in spite of himself.
It had been many, many hours since he arrived in the lab. Viktor idly guessed that it was past midnight already, maybe later. And now he was faced with an issue not easily solved, at least not alone.
Maybe he should call it a night, go home, get some sleep.
...
Or maybe he should get another cup of coffee.
Resigning himself to another all nighter, he tucked his crutch under his arm and stood, walking over to the big steel door and pressing the button to open it.
As Viktor saw the figure standing at the doorway, he darted back, his bad leg bending at an awkward angle. He stared with wide eyes, white knuckle grip on his crutch. "Wh-Who are you?" He hated how pathetic that sounded, and took a deep breath, forcing a firmness in his voice. "This is a private facility. You are not supposed to be here. State your business before I call security."
Maybe it was a trick of the all too dim light, or his exhaustion setting in. But for some reason, this man seemed... familiar.
Jayce stilled.
For a fleeting second, the noise in his head deafened—its constant screeching now replaced with that familiar, placating voice. The only sound that stirred between them was his breathing, heavy and laborious in its rhythm.
“Viktor.”
Jayce rasped, his voice sounding dry. It was as if the poor man had little to drink. Despite the ragged depth in voice, it carried a lightness to it—almost reverent when the name left his chapped lips.
His battered hands were pressed against the sides of the doorframe, his hulking figure dwarfing the other man in front of him. From his disheveled appearance, Jayce looked more like a begger than a once respected scientist. His beard and hair were unkept, clothes in visible tatters.
But the look of utter desperation, captured deep within his russet eyes, did little to keep his emotions at bay.
“You don’t… you don’t recognize me.” His words were more of a mutter to himself, almost disbelieved that his own partner hardly knew him. Did he change that much while trapped in that godawful hellhole?
Viktor's eyes widened further as the man blocked his egress, his grip tightening on his crutch. That voice. That voice that spoke through a tattered throat, over cracked lips, he knew that voice all too well. And those eyes, though wild and desperate, were the ones he had to stop himself from gazing into on many an occasion. For a few moments, he stood, staring into those eyes, searching. The connection formed in his mind, and then damn near rejected it outright. This couldn't be the man he knew.
Could it?
"Jayce...?" He tried, the name sounding uncertain on his lips. This couldn't be, he had seen Jayce earlier today, and he didn't look anything like this.
"What on Runeterra is..." He trailed off, eyes scanning the rest of his body. Clothes as dirty as his face. A brace wrapped around his leg, old, dried blood having soaked through the fabric. He gave a hard swallow before speaking again. "...You're hurt." Viktor said lamely, unsure of what else he could possibly remark on. "What...What is this?"
Jayce chuckled. Yet, the sound was more of a disheartening crackle as it tore through the silence between them. There was no mirth in his laughter, a once familiar sound that now seemed a distant melody.
“Glad to see you’re still observant.”
With what remaining strength he had, Jayce dared himself to take a step closer. Now, he was less than a foot away from Viktor, his neck craning downwards to meet the other man’s scrutinizing gaze.
There was this distinct and striking smell to him, something so unlike his old scent of sandalwood and musk. Instead, it was acrid, harsh—like an angry concoction of smoke and iron.
Viktor took a step back, hearing the door close behind Jayce. Even with that, they were close, very close, and Viktor felt his heart start to race. A jab to the sternum, or the neck, with his cane would probably buy him enough time to hobble out of there, if things turned ugly. Despite his weakness, his inadequacy, the blood of Zaun still pumped through his veins. He knew how to defend himself.
"That didn't answer my question," He said firmly, trying to keep his voice even through the nerves. A sharp inhale through his nose; this Jayce even smelled wrong. Not bad, per say, just wrong.
"What...what happened to you?"
In what little light the laboratory offered them, Jayce could see the skepticism stirring deep within Viktor’s eyes. How could he possibly explain his existence when even he had no idea how he appeared. What Jayce knew or cared for was that he was finally back home, back to where everything was before he left, back to how everything should be.
The laboratory remained the same, with a few papers and equations varying in place. Yet, his attention fell back to Viktor and the question pending. If only he could understand how much of a sight he was for a man whose eyes were sore from endless misery. If only Viktor could understand the kind of burden he carried while he remained separated from all he knew and loved.
“Even if I tell you, would you believe me?”
Jayce questioned. Even the coarseness in his voice gave way to the vulnerability that underlay his words. Finally, he moved, granting a brief reprieve from their closeness as he made his way to a vacant chair. When Jayce was settled, he stretched his bad leg, the sound of his metal brace groaning from the action.
Blunt, deft fingers tightened on the cane as Jayce moved. But he only pushed past Viktor, whose eyes narrowed when he sat down in the chair (he didn't care what name that stranger used, that was Jayce's chair).
"Maybe. Maybe not."
Neither of them spoke for a few moments, awkward, tense. Finally, finally, Viktor heaved a sigh and limped over to the little table sequestered away from their respective desks. He pressed the button on the 'emergency' coffeemaker, there for when they couldn't tear themselves away from their work for even five minutes to go to the mess. It always tasted a bit acrid, metallic. But it got the job done. "I suppose there is only one way to find out."
Jayce huffed, already knowing the answer before Viktor could even mutter it. It seemed as if nothing had changed. The man was still as stubborn as he remembered, a simple observation that brought a faint smile to his face.
From where he sat, Jayce watched him make a cup of barely passable coffee. Whatever liquid that was brewed from the machine was adequate in caffeine but very poor in taste. Without even tasting it, a small whiff already made Jayce remember the countless nights spent here in this laboratory—nights he spent with Viktor.
“An accident with the hexcore teleported me to another dimension. As you can see, it was not a pleasant experience.”
Even with his attempt at levity, Jayce sounded sardonic.
Viktor's hands stilled as he reached for the mugs.
Now that got his attention.
"Another dimension?" He glanced over his shoulder as he set the mugs down. "I suppose that would explain the different appearance from Jayce. Er, my Jayce, anyway. But I find myself...curious." Viktor had a certain way of speaking in these situations, when a problem had presented itself without any hope of finding an answer. Most people thought him dry, unemotional.
But those closest to Viktor would be able to hear the excitement.
Taking a cursory smell of the milk in the mini fridge, he shrugged. Good enough. In one of the mugs, he threw a handful of sugar cubes, in the other, only two, followed by a heavy handed splash of milk. He swore under his breath. Always too much, no matter how careful.
Walking back over to Jayce, he put the (hopefully not too milky) cup of coffee beside him. "This is perhaps the third time I have asked, so I hope you will be candid with me now." A frustration filled his tone, a worry through his set brow. "What happened? You look like hell."
His battered hand swept through his disheveled hair, eyes askance from Viktor’s gaze as he spoke,
“I was trapped in that dimension. For how long is anyone’s guess.” Weight filled every word, his voice still ragged as if he spoke through a mouthful of gravel. Yet, he took the cup of coffee and eagerly drank, the liquid soothing most of the sores in his throat,
“I only survived because I fell into a ravine… though, it resulted in me..” Jayce gestured to his bad leg, the metal of the brace gleaming under the dim light. He took another swig at the coffee, finding the mixture pleasant compared to the brine he called water while he remained sequestered in the cave.
Then, he glanced up from the rim of cup, his eyes settling on the other man’s features. He knew that Viktor was worried, though what about remained a mystery to Jayce.
Viktor didn't have many friends. He didn't have much of anything, outside of his work, and his books, and his partner. Seeing as Jayce was one of the most prevalent people in his life, he prided himself on being able to read him well. But this? This was a whole different animal. He'd never known Jayce to be cagey. Or to hold back on complaints about the way Viktor made his coffee.
"This looks like mine." His fingertips gently traced the scrounged metal of the brace holding Jayce's leg together. "I don't know why I'm surprised. You designed it after all. Of course you would remember how it's built." A thumb gently swiped along past one of the tattered leather strips wrapped around his thigh. "Would you mind if I took a look...?"
His eyes followed the motion of his fingers, watching them closely as Viktor inspected his brace. Without much of an answer, Jayce nodded and fixed the position of his poor leg, granting Viktor more access to whatever he wished.
Slowly, Jayce leaned back into the chair, a heavy sigh leaving him as the weight in his bones lifted. It has been too long since he had felt comfortable, a simple pleasure he had taken for granted—among other things.
His attention went from the other man’s fingers and to his face, curiosity soon building within him,
“What are you looking for exactly?” A quiet hissed escaped him as a certain tug met his sensitive skin. Since there were no supplies to keep his wounds sterile, most of his skin were fused with thin pieces of clothing.
Viktor looked up at him, a slight frown on his face. "Your injury, Jayce." That same worry filled his annoyed tone. Slowly, fingers slid in between the leather strap and the cloth of his pants, gently easing it open. It didn't come easy- the buckles were warped and makeshift, still impressive for someone trapped in a ravine.
Then, the straps around his calf, higher up, Viktor noted, probably to avoid rubbing against the injury. Finally, the one around his ankle. He gently slid the makeshift device off, lying it gently onto the floor. Though his eyes had been focused on the task at hand, as his fingers curled around his pant leg, he hesitated, glancing up to Jayce for a moment, as if seeking permission.
Slowly, *slowly*, he rolled up the fabric with as gentle a touch as he could muster, breath hitching when he saw the bruises. With the pant leg rolled up to his knee now, it was all on display for Viktor, the way his leg had bent at an awkward angle, the dried blood and fabric scraps damn near fused to the skin. There was no trace of the excitement from before, the worry written plainly in his eyes as he stared up at Jayce, fingers tightening slightly on his ankle. "Janna... you... you survived this?"
1 x 1 with @behind-the-progress
Somewhere in the distance, Jayce could hear a faint rhythm—metal clashing against metal—as it hammered away without so much as a tremble. His eyes fell to his hands, calloused and bruised skin greeting him as moonlight spilled overhead. Then, his attention turned to his new surroundings, familiarity soon following.
These halls. He knew these halls well.
Without wasting another moment, Jayce hurried through the hallways. His footfalls were heavy and firm against the marble floor, thunderous in sound. Even with an injured leg, his pace remained brisk—never once wavering to the pain that consumed his weary body. Turn after turn, he began to wonder,
Was this another one of his delusions? Was he really here?
For the sake of his sanity, he needed it to be real.
Each fervent step brought him closer to the laboratory, the familiar noise coaxing him to come closer. When he stood at the door, Jayce pressed a tentative hand against the metal, contemplating whether to enter.
Whrrr, clank.
The prototype claw hissed as it returned to its resting position, not budging no matter how frantically Viktor waved his his hand around. A wiggle of the fingers earned a twitch from the prongs, but nothing more. He circled his work bench, before spotting an ever growing puddle of slick liquid leaking out of one of the beams.
A hydraulics failure. Perfect. Fantastic.
Viktor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, slumping over on his stool. "Well, thank Janna I did not add the laser yet." He muttered to no one but himself. As his eyes followed the hydraulics fluid slowly creeping across the bench, his fingers traced the notes on the schematics. A big, blocky script, and a quavering chickenscratch, trading ideas and little bits of praise. He smiled ever so slightly, in spite of himself.
It had been many, many hours since he arrived in the lab. Viktor idly guessed that it was past midnight already, maybe later. And now he was faced with an issue not easily solved, at least not alone.
Maybe he should call it a night, go home, get some sleep.
...
Or maybe he should get another cup of coffee.
Resigning himself to another all nighter, he tucked his crutch under his arm and stood, walking over to the big steel door and pressing the button to open it.
As Viktor saw the figure standing at the doorway, he darted back, his bad leg bending at an awkward angle. He stared with wide eyes, white knuckle grip on his crutch. "Wh-Who are you?" He hated how pathetic that sounded, and took a deep breath, forcing a firmness in his voice. "This is a private facility. You are not supposed to be here. State your business before I call security."
Maybe it was a trick of the all too dim light, or his exhaustion setting in. But for some reason, this man seemed... familiar.
Jayce stilled.
For a fleeting second, the noise in his head deafened—its constant screeching now replaced with that familiar, placating voice. The only sound that stirred between them was his breathing, heavy and laborious in its rhythm.
“Viktor.”
Jayce rasped, his voice sounding dry. It was as if the poor man had little to drink. Despite the ragged depth in voice, it carried a lightness to it—almost reverent when the name left his chapped lips.
His battered hands were pressed against the sides of the doorframe, his hulking figure dwarfing the other man in front of him. From his disheveled appearance, Jayce looked more like a begger than a once respected scientist. His beard and hair were unkept, clothes in visible tatters.
But the look of utter desperation, captured deep within his russet eyes, did little to keep his emotions at bay.
“You don’t… you don’t recognize me.” His words were more of a mutter to himself, almost disbelieved that his own partner hardly knew him. Did he change that much while trapped in that godawful hellhole?
Viktor's eyes widened further as the man blocked his egress, his grip tightening on his crutch. That voice. That voice that spoke through a tattered throat, over cracked lips, he knew that voice all too well. And those eyes, though wild and desperate, were the ones he had to stop himself from gazing into on many an occasion. For a few moments, he stood, staring into those eyes, searching. The connection formed in his mind, and then damn near rejected it outright. This couldn't be the man he knew.
Could it?
"Jayce...?" He tried, the name sounding uncertain on his lips. This couldn't be, he had seen Jayce earlier today, and he didn't look anything like this.
"What on Runeterra is..." He trailed off, eyes scanning the rest of his body. Clothes as dirty as his face. A brace wrapped around his leg, old, dried blood having soaked through the fabric. He gave a hard swallow before speaking again. "...You're hurt." Viktor said lamely, unsure of what else he could possibly remark on. "What...What is this?"
Jayce chuckled. Yet, the sound was more of a disheartening crackle as it tore through the silence between them. There was no mirth in his laughter, a once familiar sound that now seemed a distant melody.
“Glad to see you’re still observant.”
With what remaining strength he had, Jayce dared himself to take a step closer. Now, he was less than a foot away from Viktor, his neck craning downwards to meet the other man’s scrutinizing gaze.
There was this distinct and striking smell to him, something so unlike his old scent of sandalwood and musk. Instead, it was acrid, harsh—like an angry concoction of smoke and iron.
Viktor took a step back, hearing the door close behind Jayce. Even with that, they were close, very close, and Viktor felt his heart start to race. A jab to the sternum, or the neck, with his cane would probably buy him enough time to hobble out of there, if things turned ugly. Despite his weakness, his inadequacy, the blood of Zaun still pumped through his veins. He knew how to defend himself.
"That didn't answer my question," He said firmly, trying to keep his voice even through the nerves. A sharp inhale through his nose; this Jayce even smelled wrong. Not bad, per say, just wrong.
"What...what happened to you?"
In what little light the laboratory offered them, Jayce could see the skepticism stirring deep within Viktor’s eyes. How could he possibly explain his existence when even he had no idea how he appeared. What Jayce knew or cared for was that he was finally back home, back to where everything was before he left, back to how everything should be.
The laboratory remained the same, with a few papers and equations varying in place. Yet, his attention fell back to Viktor and the question pending. If only he could understand how much of a sight he was for a man whose eyes were sore from endless misery. If only Viktor could understand the kind of burden he carried while he remained separated from all he knew and loved.
“Even if I tell you, would you believe me?”
Jayce questioned. Even the coarseness in his voice gave way to the vulnerability that underlay his words. Finally, he moved, granting a brief reprieve from their closeness as he made his way to a vacant chair. When Jayce was settled, he stretched his bad leg, the sound of his metal brace groaning from the action.
Blunt, deft fingers tightened on the cane as Jayce moved. But he only pushed past Viktor, whose eyes narrowed when he sat down in the chair (he didn't care what name that stranger used, that was Jayce's chair).
"Maybe. Maybe not."
Neither of them spoke for a few moments, awkward, tense. Finally, finally, Viktor heaved a sigh and limped over to the little table sequestered away from their respective desks. He pressed the button on the 'emergency' coffeemaker, there for when they couldn't tear themselves away from their work for even five minutes to go to the mess. It always tasted a bit acrid, metallic. But it got the job done. "I suppose there is only one way to find out."
Jayce huffed, already knowing the answer before Viktor could even mutter it. It seemed as if nothing had changed. The man was still as stubborn as he remembered, a simple observation that brought a faint smile to his face.
From where he sat, Jayce watched him make a cup of barely passable coffee. Whatever liquid that was brewed from the machine was adequate in caffeine but very poor in taste. Without even tasting it, a small whiff already made Jayce remember the countless nights spent here in this laboratory—nights he spent with Viktor.
“An accident with the hexcore teleported me to another dimension. As you can see, it was not a pleasant experience.”
Even with his attempt at levity, Jayce sounded sardonic.
Viktor's hands stilled as he reached for the mugs.
Now that got his attention.
"Another dimension?" He glanced over his shoulder as he set the mugs down. "I suppose that would explain the different appearance from Jayce. Er, my Jayce, anyway. But I find myself...curious." Viktor had a certain way of speaking in these situations, when a problem had presented itself without any hope of finding an answer. Most people thought him dry, unemotional.
But those closest to Viktor would be able to hear the excitement.
Taking a cursory smell of the milk in the mini fridge, he shrugged. Good enough. In one of the mugs, he threw a handful of sugar cubes, in the other, only two, followed by a heavy handed splash of milk. He swore under his breath. Always too much, no matter how careful.
Walking back over to Jayce, he put the (hopefully not too milky) cup of coffee beside him. "This is perhaps the third time I have asked, so I hope you will be candid with me now." A frustration filled his tone, a worry through his set brow. "What happened? You look like hell."
His battered hand swept through his disheveled hair, eyes askance from Viktor’s gaze as he spoke,
“I was trapped in that dimension. For how long is anyone’s guess.” Weight filled every word, his voice still ragged as if he spoke through a mouthful of gravel. Yet, he took the cup of coffee and eagerly drank, the liquid soothing most of the sores in his throat,
“I only survived because I fell into a ravine… though, it resulted in me..” Jayce gestured to his bad leg, the metal of the brace gleaming under the dim light. He took another swig at the coffee, finding the mixture pleasant compared to the brine he called water while he remained sequestered in the cave.
Then, he glanced up from the rim of cup, his eyes settling on the other man’s features. He knew that Viktor was worried, though what about remained a mystery to Jayce.
Viktor didn't have many friends. He didn't have much of anything, outside of his work, and his books, and his partner. Seeing as Jayce was one of the most prevalent people in his life, he prided himself on being able to read him well. But this? This was a whole different animal. He'd never known Jayce to be cagey. Or to hold back on complaints about the way Viktor made his coffee.
"This looks like mine." His fingertips gently traced the scrounged metal of the brace holding Jayce's leg together. "I don't know why I'm surprised. You designed it after all. Of course you would remember how it's built." A thumb gently swiped along past one of the tattered leather strips wrapped around his thigh. "Would you mind if I took a look...?"
1 x 1 with @behind-the-progress
Somewhere in the distance, Jayce could hear a faint rhythm—metal clashing against metal—as it hammered away without so much as a tremble. His eyes fell to his hands, calloused and bruised skin greeting him as moonlight spilled overhead. Then, his attention turned to his new surroundings, familiarity soon following.
These halls. He knew these halls well.
Without wasting another moment, Jayce hurried through the hallways. His footfalls were heavy and firm against the marble floor, thunderous in sound. Even with an injured leg, his pace remained brisk—never once wavering to the pain that consumed his weary body. Turn after turn, he began to wonder,
Was this another one of his delusions? Was he really here?
For the sake of his sanity, he needed it to be real.
Each fervent step brought him closer to the laboratory, the familiar noise coaxing him to come closer. When he stood at the door, Jayce pressed a tentative hand against the metal, contemplating whether to enter.
Whrrr, clank.
The prototype claw hissed as it returned to its resting position, not budging no matter how frantically Viktor waved his his hand around. A wiggle of the fingers earned a twitch from the prongs, but nothing more. He circled his work bench, before spotting an ever growing puddle of slick liquid leaking out of one of the beams.
A hydraulics failure. Perfect. Fantastic.
Viktor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, slumping over on his stool. "Well, thank Janna I did not add the laser yet." He muttered to no one but himself. As his eyes followed the hydraulics fluid slowly creeping across the bench, his fingers traced the notes on the schematics. A big, blocky script, and a quavering chickenscratch, trading ideas and little bits of praise. He smiled ever so slightly, in spite of himself.
It had been many, many hours since he arrived in the lab. Viktor idly guessed that it was past midnight already, maybe later. And now he was faced with an issue not easily solved, at least not alone.
Maybe he should call it a night, go home, get some sleep.
...
Or maybe he should get another cup of coffee.
Resigning himself to another all nighter, he tucked his crutch under his arm and stood, walking over to the big steel door and pressing the button to open it.
As Viktor saw the figure standing at the doorway, he darted back, his bad leg bending at an awkward angle. He stared with wide eyes, white knuckle grip on his crutch. "Wh-Who are you?" He hated how pathetic that sounded, and took a deep breath, forcing a firmness in his voice. "This is a private facility. You are not supposed to be here. State your business before I call security."
Maybe it was a trick of the all too dim light, or his exhaustion setting in. But for some reason, this man seemed... familiar.
Jayce stilled.
For a fleeting second, the noise in his head deafened—its constant screeching now replaced with that familiar, placating voice. The only sound that stirred between them was his breathing, heavy and laborious in its rhythm.
“Viktor.”
Jayce rasped, his voice sounding dry. It was as if the poor man had little to drink. Despite the ragged depth in voice, it carried a lightness to it—almost reverent when the name left his chapped lips.
His battered hands were pressed against the sides of the doorframe, his hulking figure dwarfing the other man in front of him. From his disheveled appearance, Jayce looked more like a begger than a once respected scientist. His beard and hair were unkept, clothes in visible tatters.
But the look of utter desperation, captured deep within his russet eyes, did little to keep his emotions at bay.
“You don’t… you don’t recognize me.” His words were more of a mutter to himself, almost disbelieved that his own partner hardly knew him. Did he change that much while trapped in that godawful hellhole?
Viktor's eyes widened further as the man blocked his egress, his grip tightening on his crutch. That voice. That voice that spoke through a tattered throat, over cracked lips, he knew that voice all too well. And those eyes, though wild and desperate, were the ones he had to stop himself from gazing into on many an occasion. For a few moments, he stood, staring into those eyes, searching. The connection formed in his mind, and then damn near rejected it outright. This couldn't be the man he knew.
Could it?
"Jayce...?" He tried, the name sounding uncertain on his lips. This couldn't be, he had seen Jayce earlier today, and he didn't look anything like this.
"What on Runeterra is..." He trailed off, eyes scanning the rest of his body. Clothes as dirty as his face. A brace wrapped around his leg, old, dried blood having soaked through the fabric. He gave a hard swallow before speaking again. "...You're hurt." Viktor said lamely, unsure of what else he could possibly remark on. "What...What is this?"
Jayce chuckled. Yet, the sound was more of a disheartening crackle as it tore through the silence between them. There was no mirth in his laughter, a once familiar sound that now seemed a distant melody.
“Glad to see you’re still observant.”
With what remaining strength he had, Jayce dared himself to take a step closer. Now, he was less than a foot away from Viktor, his neck craning downwards to meet the other man’s scrutinizing gaze.
There was this distinct and striking smell to him, something so unlike his old scent of sandalwood and musk. Instead, it was acrid, harsh—like an angry concoction of smoke and iron.
Viktor took a step back, hearing the door close behind Jayce. Even with that, they were close, very close, and Viktor felt his heart start to race. A jab to the sternum, or the neck, with his cane would probably buy him enough time to hobble out of there, if things turned ugly. Despite his weakness, his inadequacy, the blood of Zaun still pumped through his veins. He knew how to defend himself.
"That didn't answer my question," He said firmly, trying to keep his voice even through the nerves. A sharp inhale through his nose; this Jayce even smelled wrong. Not bad, per say, just wrong.
"What...what happened to you?"
In what little light the laboratory offered them, Jayce could see the skepticism stirring deep within Viktor’s eyes. How could he possibly explain his existence when even he had no idea how he appeared. What Jayce knew or cared for was that he was finally back home, back to where everything was before he left, back to how everything should be.
The laboratory remained the same, with a few papers and equations varying in place. Yet, his attention fell back to Viktor and the question pending. If only he could understand how much of a sight he was for a man whose eyes were sore from endless misery. If only Viktor could understand the kind of burden he carried while he remained separated from all he knew and loved.
“Even if I tell you, would you believe me?”
Jayce questioned. Even the coarseness in his voice gave way to the vulnerability that underlay his words. Finally, he moved, granting a brief reprieve from their closeness as he made his way to a vacant chair. When Jayce was settled, he stretched his bad leg, the sound of his metal brace groaning from the action.
Blunt, deft fingers tightened on the cane as Jayce moved. But he only pushed past Viktor, whose eyes narrowed when he sat down in the chair (he didn't care what name that stranger used, that was Jayce's chair).
"Maybe. Maybe not."
Neither of them spoke for a few moments, awkward, tense. Finally, finally, Viktor heaved a sigh and limped over to the little table sequestered away from their respective desks. He pressed the button on the 'emergency' coffeemaker, there for when they couldn't tear themselves away from their work for even five minutes to go to the mess. It always tasted a bit acrid, metallic. But it got the job done. "I suppose there is only one way to find out."
Jayce huffed, already knowing the answer before Viktor could even mutter it. It seemed as if nothing had changed. The man was still as stubborn as he remembered, a simple observation that brought a faint smile to his face.
From where he sat, Jayce watched him make a cup of barely passable coffee. Whatever liquid that was brewed from the machine was adequate in caffeine but very poor in taste. Without even tasting it, a small whiff already made Jayce remember the countless nights spent here in this laboratory—nights he spent with Viktor.
“An accident with the hexcore teleported me to another dimension. As you can see, it was not a pleasant experience.”
Even with his attempt at levity, Jayce sounded sardonic.
Viktor's hands stilled as he reached for the mugs.
Now that got his attention.
"Another dimension?" He glanced over his shoulder as he set the mugs down. "I suppose that would explain the different appearance from Jayce. Er, my Jayce, anyway. But I find myself...curious." Viktor had a certain way of speaking in these situations, when a problem had presented itself without any hope of finding an answer. Most people thought him dry, unemotional.
But those closest to Viktor would be able to hear the excitement.
Taking a cursory smell of the milk in the mini fridge, he shrugged. Good enough. In one of the mugs, he threw a handful of sugar cubes, in the other, only two, followed by a heavy handed splash of milk. He swore under his breath. Always too much, no matter how careful.
Walking back over to Jayce, he put the (hopefully not too milky) cup of coffee beside him. "This is perhaps the third time I have asked, so I hope you will be candid with me now." A frustration filled his tone, a worry through his set brow. "What happened? You look like hell."
1 x 1 with @behind-the-progress
Somewhere in the distance, Jayce could hear a faint rhythm—metal clashing against metal—as it hammered away without so much as a tremble. His eyes fell to his hands, calloused and bruised skin greeting him as moonlight spilled overhead. Then, his attention turned to his new surroundings, familiarity soon following.
These halls. He knew these halls well.
Without wasting another moment, Jayce hurried through the hallways. His footfalls were heavy and firm against the marble floor, thunderous in sound. Even with an injured leg, his pace remained brisk—never once wavering to the pain that consumed his weary body. Turn after turn, he began to wonder,
Was this another one of his delusions? Was he really here?
For the sake of his sanity, he needed it to be real.
Each fervent step brought him closer to the laboratory, the familiar noise coaxing him to come closer. When he stood at the door, Jayce pressed a tentative hand against the metal, contemplating whether to enter.
Whrrr, clank.
The prototype claw hissed as it returned to its resting position, not budging no matter how frantically Viktor waved his his hand around. A wiggle of the fingers earned a twitch from the prongs, but nothing more. He circled his work bench, before spotting an ever growing puddle of slick liquid leaking out of one of the beams.
A hydraulics failure. Perfect. Fantastic.
Viktor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, slumping over on his stool. "Well, thank Janna I did not add the laser yet." He muttered to no one but himself. As his eyes followed the hydraulics fluid slowly creeping across the bench, his fingers traced the notes on the schematics. A big, blocky script, and a quavering chickenscratch, trading ideas and little bits of praise. He smiled ever so slightly, in spite of himself.
It had been many, many hours since he arrived in the lab. Viktor idly guessed that it was past midnight already, maybe later. And now he was faced with an issue not easily solved, at least not alone.
Maybe he should call it a night, go home, get some sleep.
...
Or maybe he should get another cup of coffee.
Resigning himself to another all nighter, he tucked his crutch under his arm and stood, walking over to the big steel door and pressing the button to open it.
As Viktor saw the figure standing at the doorway, he darted back, his bad leg bending at an awkward angle. He stared with wide eyes, white knuckle grip on his crutch. "Wh-Who are you?" He hated how pathetic that sounded, and took a deep breath, forcing a firmness in his voice. "This is a private facility. You are not supposed to be here. State your business before I call security."
Maybe it was a trick of the all too dim light, or his exhaustion setting in. But for some reason, this man seemed... familiar.
Jayce stilled.
For a fleeting second, the noise in his head deafened—its constant screeching now replaced with that familiar, placating voice. The only sound that stirred between them was his breathing, heavy and laborious in its rhythm.
“Viktor.”
Jayce rasped, his voice sounding dry. It was as if the poor man had little to drink. Despite the ragged depth in voice, it carried a lightness to it—almost reverent when the name left his chapped lips.
His battered hands were pressed against the sides of the doorframe, his hulking figure dwarfing the other man in front of him. From his disheveled appearance, Jayce looked more like a begger than a once respected scientist. His beard and hair were unkept, clothes in visible tatters.
But the look of utter desperation, captured deep within his russet eyes, did little to keep his emotions at bay.
“You don’t… you don’t recognize me.” His words were more of a mutter to himself, almost disbelieved that his own partner hardly knew him. Did he change that much while trapped in that godawful hellhole?
Viktor's eyes widened further as the man blocked his egress, his grip tightening on his crutch. That voice. That voice that spoke through a tattered throat, over cracked lips, he knew that voice all too well. And those eyes, though wild and desperate, were the ones he had to stop himself from gazing into on many an occasion. For a few moments, he stood, staring into those eyes, searching. The connection formed in his mind, and then damn near rejected it outright. This couldn't be the man he knew.
Could it?
"Jayce...?" He tried, the name sounding uncertain on his lips. This couldn't be, he had seen Jayce earlier today, and he didn't look anything like this.
"What on Runeterra is..." He trailed off, eyes scanning the rest of his body. Clothes as dirty as his face. A brace wrapped around his leg, old, dried blood having soaked through the fabric. He gave a hard swallow before speaking again. "...You're hurt." Viktor said lamely, unsure of what else he could possibly remark on. "What...What is this?"
Jayce chuckled. Yet, the sound was more of a disheartening crackle as it tore through the silence between them. There was no mirth in his laughter, a once familiar sound that now seemed a distant melody.
“Glad to see you’re still observant.”
With what remaining strength he had, Jayce dared himself to take a step closer. Now, he was less than a foot away from Viktor, his neck craning downwards to meet the other man’s scrutinizing gaze.
There was this distinct and striking smell to him, something so unlike his old scent of sandalwood and musk. Instead, it was acrid, harsh—like an angry concoction of smoke and iron.
Viktor took a step back, hearing the door close behind Jayce. Even with that, they were close, very close, and Viktor felt his heart start to race. A jab to the sternum, or the neck, with his cane would probably buy him enough time to hobble out of there, if things turned ugly. Despite his weakness, his inadequacy, the blood of Zaun still pumped through his veins. He knew how to defend himself.
"That didn't answer my question," He said firmly, trying to keep his voice even through the nerves. A sharp inhale through his nose; this Jayce even smelled wrong. Not bad, per say, just wrong.
"What...what happened to you?"
In what little light the laboratory offered them, Jayce could see the skepticism stirring deep within Viktor’s eyes. How could he possibly explain his existence when even he had no idea how he appeared. What Jayce knew or cared for was that he was finally back home, back to where everything was before he left, back to how everything should be.
The laboratory remained the same, with a few papers and equations varying in place. Yet, his attention fell back to Viktor and the question pending. If only he could understand how much of a sight he was for a man whose eyes were sore from endless misery. If only Viktor could understand the kind of burden he carried while he remained separated from all he knew and loved.
“Even if I tell you, would you believe me?”
Jayce questioned. Even the coarseness in his voice gave way to the vulnerability that underlay his words. Finally, he moved, granting a brief reprieve from their closeness as he made his way to a vacant chair. When Jayce was settled, he stretched his bad leg, the sound of his metal brace groaning from the action.
Blunt, deft fingers tightened on the cane as Jayce moved. But he only pushed past Viktor, whose eyes narrowed when he sat down in the chair (he didn't care what name that stranger used, that was Jayce's chair).
"Maybe. Maybe not."
Neither of them spoke for a few moments, awkward, tense. Finally, finally, Viktor heaved a sigh and limped over to the little table sequestered away from their respective desks. He pressed the button on the 'emergency' coffeemaker, there for when they couldn't tear themselves away from their work for even five minutes to go to the mess. It always tasted a bit acrid, metallic. But it got the job done. "I suppose there is only one way to find out."
1 x 1 with @behind-the-progress
Somewhere in the distance, Jayce could hear a faint rhythm—metal clashing against metal—as it hammered away without so much as a tremble. His eyes fell to his hands, calloused and bruised skin greeting him as moonlight spilled overhead. Then, his attention turned to his new surroundings, familiarity soon following.
These halls. He knew these halls well.
Without wasting another moment, Jayce hurried through the hallways. His footfalls were heavy and firm against the marble floor, thunderous in sound. Even with an injured leg, his pace remained brisk—never once wavering to the pain that consumed his weary body. Turn after turn, he began to wonder,
Was this another one of his delusions? Was he really here?
For the sake of his sanity, he needed it to be real.
Each fervent step brought him closer to the laboratory, the familiar noise coaxing him to come closer. When he stood at the door, Jayce pressed a tentative hand against the metal, contemplating whether to enter.
Whrrr, clank.
The prototype claw hissed as it returned to its resting position, not budging no matter how frantically Viktor waved his his hand around. A wiggle of the fingers earned a twitch from the prongs, but nothing more. He circled his work bench, before spotting an ever growing puddle of slick liquid leaking out of one of the beams.
A hydraulics failure. Perfect. Fantastic.
Viktor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, slumping over on his stool. "Well, thank Janna I did not add the laser yet." He muttered to no one but himself. As his eyes followed the hydraulics fluid slowly creeping across the bench, his fingers traced the notes on the schematics. A big, blocky script, and a quavering chickenscratch, trading ideas and little bits of praise. He smiled ever so slightly, in spite of himself.
It had been many, many hours since he arrived in the lab. Viktor idly guessed that it was past midnight already, maybe later. And now he was faced with an issue not easily solved, at least not alone.
Maybe he should call it a night, go home, get some sleep.
...
Or maybe he should get another cup of coffee.
Resigning himself to another all nighter, he tucked his crutch under his arm and stood, walking over to the big steel door and pressing the button to open it.
As Viktor saw the figure standing at the doorway, he darted back, his bad leg bending at an awkward angle. He stared with wide eyes, white knuckle grip on his crutch. "Wh-Who are you?" He hated how pathetic that sounded, and took a deep breath, forcing a firmness in his voice. "This is a private facility. You are not supposed to be here. State your business before I call security."
Maybe it was a trick of the all too dim light, or his exhaustion setting in. But for some reason, this man seemed... familiar.
Jayce stilled.
For a fleeting second, the noise in his head deafened—its constant screeching now replaced with that familiar, placating voice. The only sound that stirred between them was his breathing, heavy and laborious in its rhythm.
“Viktor.”
Jayce rasped, his voice sounding dry. It was as if the poor man had little to drink. Despite the ragged depth in voice, it carried a lightness to it—almost reverent when the name left his chapped lips.
His battered hands were pressed against the sides of the doorframe, his hulking figure dwarfing the other man in front of him. From his disheveled appearance, Jayce looked more like a begger than a once respected scientist. His beard and hair were unkept, clothes in visible tatters.
But the look of utter desperation, captured deep within his russet eyes, did little to keep his emotions at bay.
“You don’t… you don’t recognize me.” His words were more of a mutter to himself, almost disbelieved that his own partner hardly knew him. Did he change that much while trapped in that godawful hellhole?
Viktor's eyes widened further as the man blocked his egress, his grip tightening on his crutch. That voice. That voice that spoke through a tattered throat, over cracked lips, he knew that voice all too well. And those eyes, though wild and desperate, were the ones he had to stop himself from gazing into on many an occasion. For a few moments, he stood, staring into those eyes, searching. The connection formed in his mind, and then damn near rejected it outright. This couldn't be the man he knew.
Could it?
"Jayce...?" He tried, the name sounding uncertain on his lips. This couldn't be, he had seen Jayce earlier today, and he didn't look anything like this.
"What on Runeterra is..." He trailed off, eyes scanning the rest of his body. Clothes as dirty as his face. A brace wrapped around his leg, old, dried blood having soaked through the fabric. He gave a hard swallow before speaking again. "...You're hurt." Viktor said lamely, unsure of what else he could possibly remark on. "What...What is this?"
Jayce chuckled. Yet, the sound was more of a disheartening crackle as it tore through the silence between them. There was no mirth in his laughter, a once familiar sound that now seemed a distant melody.
“Glad to see you’re still observant.”
With what remaining strength he had, Jayce dared himself to take a step closer. Now, he was less than a foot away from Viktor, his neck craning downwards to meet the other man’s scrutinizing gaze.
There was this distinct and striking smell to him, something so unlike his old scent of sandalwood and musk. Instead, it was acrid, harsh—like an angry concoction of smoke and iron.
Viktor took a step back, hearing the door close behind Jayce. Even with that, they were close, very close, and Viktor felt his heart start to race. A jab to the sternum, or the neck, with his cane would probably buy him enough time to hobble out of there, if things turned ugly. Despite his weakness, his inadequacy, the blood of Zaun still pumped through his veins. He knew how to defend himself.
"That didn't answer my question," He said firmly, trying to keep his voice even through the nerves. A sharp inhale through his nose; this Jayce even smelled wrong. Not bad, per say, just wrong.
"What...what happened to you?"
