#sancta trinitas

[moonsdancer]

a triptych; an artwork made up of three pieces or panels. often used to impart narrative, create a sequence, or show different elements of the same subject matter.

[moonsdancer]

Arcane spoilers

Mel and Jayce sex scene juxtaposed with Viktor obsessing over the hexcore was a brilliant piece of multi-level characterisation and foreshadowing:

Viktor is already and will be utterly consumed by the technology to the point where he values machines over human life, understandable because his mortal human flesh is literally killing him. The lab assistant who tries to draw him away from this compulsion is summarily dismissed. All he sees is the machine and the hextech.

Jayce, now Jayce. The hottest himbo of my heart is different. He revels in the physical and visceral connection of sex and intimacy. Dude was so blown away by those orgasms that he says Mel makes him feel like he can do the impossible. LOL, I LOVE HIM. For him, the driving force is utterly human, with all the flaws and impulsivity and emotionally driven decision-making that implies.

Mel, the love of my life is also bringing a different angle. Almost every time we see her she's calculating and playing political games, perfectly dressed and not a hair out of place, and a remoteness. It's why it's fascinating that she cuddles with Jayce and she's the big spoon!!! Ship got me from that alone, BYE! Also that her hair is COMPLETELY unraveled (the hammer of Piltover did good 😉). This (and the emotional intimacy of the morning scenes with Jayce) is dangerous for her, esp. if the speculation about N*x*s is true.

I love these three and how different they are, and each compelling in their own ways. GOOD SHIT!

[moonsdancer]

My family and I are simple people. In our factory, we made hammers. They were probably used to cut the stones you're standing on right now. / My father put hammers in the hands of the people, and they built this city. Imagine the wonders they could create if we put magic in their hands. / We need to act.

meljayvik week 2022 | prompt: craftsmanship & jayce

I love that Jayce is a skilled blacksmith and craftsman, that he can handle a gigantic forge all by himself while only breaking a few aesthetic drops of sweat, that he's clearly a compulsive tinkerer and probably "upgrades" even the most random tchotchkes for fun (see: the super nose hair clipper). I also love that he's been sketching iterations of his hextech hammer since he was a child, and that we see the schematics for said hammer way back in act 1 when the notion of having to wield such a weapon wasn't really on his radar, at least not consciously. There's something charmingly democratic about how Jayce understands magic. And it's rooted very much in his family legacy, the Talis toolmakers who're responsible for the retractable socket wrench among other innovations that have helped and improved the material lives and realities of Piltovans for decades. It's this same practical, get your hands dirty and do something approach that he brings to other arenas of his life, from the development of Hextech to his leadership as a councilor. Jayce isn't stupid or dumb, which is how he's so often described or handled in fandom discourse. He's just someone who is supremely smart and has always understood that there's a tool or a solution to "fix" or at least ameliorate any problem that he's faced with. Whether it's a hammer or magic, there must always be a way and a means to act, to make things better, to fix, to help.

His journey is about learning that sometimes the "answer" to a big problem isn't so simple, especially when the problem is complex, tangled up and terribly, tragically human. He does start to learn that lesson by the end of the season, and it turns out that his "solution" - the diplomatic peace treaty - is both the most complicated yet simple answer to the issues facing a city on the brink of war and because of that he's the one who comes up with it, not anyone else on the council. Not sure if that's irony even if we know what happens next but it makes me happy all the same.

[moonsdancer]

we need to talk about meljayvik...

(and yes, that's what we're calling it, i roundly reject 'jayvikmel' because it sounds like mel's an afterthought to jayvik and fails to acknowledge that jayce is the hinge of this triad and always has been)

the way the show handed this ot3 to the fandom on a silver, nay, a golden platter is kind of delightful to me. from before the trial, viktor investigating jayce's confiscated research and then stealing his notebooks from heimerdinger's storage because there's something there, something that could possibly change the world, something that could help be more than just a mere assistant, something could maybe even save him, and he wants to get to the bottom of it. mel asking elora for detailed intelligence on the upcoming trial, who is this talis guy, oh, from a lower house, intriguing, and he's heimerdinger's favourite, hmmm, curious...? from her first scene, we learn she wants to put her support behind something truly revolutionary, something that will put piltover on the map, that will change everything, she's searching for it and is yet to find it.

it's no accident that mel just happened to be sauntering outside heimerdinger's office where she knows talis' forbidden research was stored - in hindsight it's highly comical that this very important council woman was just hanging out there, in the middle of the night, with a torch. it's viktor who convinces jayce to go to heimerdinger's office to steal the research, jayce is initially scared to buck the council's edicts lol. so of course, the three of them run into each other there like characters in a screwball comedy, and it's the first time they join forces in pursuit of a common, shared goal.

early interpretations of that scene outside heimerdinger's office were so intent on placing mel in opposition to jayce and viktor. it didn't make sense then, and it doesn't make sense now.

these three are just really intriguingly and wonderfully effective when they're working towards a shared purpose, bringing to bear their different selves to make things happen. it's jayce's brash sense of vision and capacity to imagine the impossible; it's viktor's gritty determination to see things through in the face of insurmountable obstacles and firm sense of principles; it's mel's canny political skills and capacity to mobilise power and people - all brought together to bring about good. they're so much better when they're working together.

a golden trio, methinks.

[moonsdancer]

Are you sure this is safe? Of course not. / I can feel my body... eroding.

meljayvik week 2022 | prompt: arcane & viktor

Like everyone else, Viktor's on a journey of becoming. His is much more explicit and maybe tangible (for much of the audience) because it's focused primarily on the self. If Jayce is preoccupied with creating tools that can enable and "empower" as he sees it; if Mel is obsessed with painting the world in gold i.e. transforming the world around her to something better and kinder; then where is Viktor's core concern focused? The Self, the Body, and in some ways the Mind. It's physical, and psychological, maybe even a little spiritual, because that hexcore was quite literally communing with him even before he decides to use his own body as a science experiment and begin his transformation. Or should we call it an evolution?

[moonsdancer]

We need something revolutionary... something to put Piltover on the map / I sponsored Hextech to protect the city, not burn it to the ground.

meljayvik week 2022 | prompt: hextech & mel

As with many things, it often feels as though people attribute only the most negative possible readings for Mel's investment in and support of Hextech. She believes in the hextech dream, as much as Jayce and Viktor do, of course. Jayce is pretty persuasive. At the heart of things, Mel's reasons for doing much of what she does (backing Hextech, going out of her way to do so, helping two strangers break the law to do so, being the strongest advocate in support of its continued development in the council, hosting who knows how many fundraisers with people she finds deeply unpleasant et al.) are pretty damn noble -- she wants to show her estranged family that there is a different way to do things. That there are ways to prosper without war, blood and violent conquest. That to be a fox means you can paint the world in gold instead of blood-red, through innovation, idealism, ingenuity etc. The reality of this is more complex and messy than she understands. But I love her for it, anyway.

[moonsdancer]

mel(jay)vik insomnia headcanons

In which Mel and Viktor are both insomniacs, and Jayce is... Jayce.

Mel, because her nightmares often wake her up in a cold sweat, breath heaving, blood splattered on her sheets and floors and hands until she blinks and remembers where she really is, and there's no blood at all. So she often sneaks out of bed to go and lose herself in painting until she's tired enough to pass out.

Viktor, because sometimes his brain is moving so fast, a mile a minute, that he can't be still or give himself to dreaming and needs to go and tinker in the lab or write down some notes for something he needs to remember come morning. And other times, because his body aches, it aches so badly that the palliatives he usually takes don't work so well, and instead of tossing and turning, he figures he might as well do something useful if his body won't allow him to rest.

The two of them developing a rhythm for particularly bad nights. Where Mel will head to her studio and paint, and Viktor will follow her on quiet feet with some small contraption or his notebook, and find his favourite corner - a fluffy divan that might as well have his name on it because no one else is allowed to sit on it unless he's sitting on it with them - and work on something, without even having to talk. Sometimes, Viktor picks up a sketchpad of his own, and rarely a canvas, and works on some doodles and maybe abstracts.

On other nights, Viktor will head to the lab they installed in their house, and tinker. Sometimes the cool, dry antiseptic atmosphere of the lab is exactly what he needs, the cool bleep of their machines doing their overnight work, everything in mostly perfect order and logic. He'll hunch over his desk, peering closely at the minutiae of some special equipment he's developing, or writing furiously into his notebook of some cool idea that he'll need to discuss with Jayce.

Mel will come, on slippered feet, she hates how chilly it is in there but she can appreciate it at times, and situate herself on her couch - one she sometimes falls asleep on waiting for these two to finish on longer days when she gets out of council work earlier than usual. It's comfy, and covered in colourful, warm throws, the prettiest spot in the room by far. And she'll draw in one of her sketchbooks until her wrist cramps and she manages to drift to a fitful doze.

Sometimes they'll talk. About silly things. Inconsequential things, funny ones too. Viktor has a really dry, sharp wit that Mel adores, and Mel's sarcasm is a thing of beauty that can make Viktor guffaw loud enough that he's scared he'll wake the house. Things that make them giggle quietly at how absurd everyone on the council is or how unpleasant the last show they saw at the city's theatre was. Or more serious things, quiet secrets meant only to be shared in the dark, how scared Mel is to fail, how fearful Viktor is of Death, what their different but comparably messed up childhoods taught them about the world and about themselves.

Most nights, Jayce sleeps like a log. Seriously, an earthquake could happen or a visitation from the Wolf itself, and the man would snore right through it. But eventually, even his dream-drunk self notices the sudden cold, the sense of being alone, and he wakes up to find himself without the two people he cares about most in the world. A flicker of cold dread and worry, because, what if something's wrong. Then he slaps his head because he knows exactly where they are.

Often, by the time he shows up, both of them are asleep or dozing, sometimes snuggled together for warmth on Mel's couch or Viktor's divan, or Viktor's sprawled on his desk in a position that looks horribly uncomfortable, or Mel's slumped in one of her studio chairs.

When he does, he alternates between who he lifts up first. Both of them would be a little flustered by how clingy they get when he does. Mel tucking her head against his chin, kissing his jaw dazedly, before snuffling back to sleep. Viktor notching his forehead on his shoulder, nuzzles against his pulse with a slight wheezy snore.

This time, when they're all three in bed, they manage to sleep tangled together until morning.

[moonsdancer]

...So, he makes his way down to the docks, sparsely populated at this time of night, marvelling at the ambulatory grace he suddenly possesses. He picked up his cane, out of habit rather than necessity, and hangs onto it as a toddler might cling to the walls while taking its first steps. But he doesn’t need it.

When he’s there, the yellow-lit windows of boats floating in the waters, some heading out for sea, he drops his cane, flexes his hands, terribly nervous that the punchline to the cosmic joke of his life will make itself known and he’ll clatter to the ground in a heap of weak, malformed limbs again.

He takes the first step. Then the next. Then another. And one more. Picking up speed until he feels it in the rush of the salt-breeze coming at him, whipping his hair off his face, dragging at the material of his shirt, his arms pumping with abandon, strong with an energy from where he knows not, the clatter-clop of his feet eating up the ground, leaving the ships far behind until he’s only racing the ocean, faster. Faster, still—

He’s running. For the first time in his life. He’s running.

His cheeks are wet with tears, but the sheer pace of his sprinting dries them in their tracks. He feels it inside him, building and building, ripping its way up through his gullet, his heart, his throat, the awful heaviness of a lifetime of melancholy and pain sloughing off so thoroughly he feels he could take flight, free of the burden of his body, a cage that has imprisoned him for so long.

He screams.

Do you want more—

sancta trinitas (x)