#vesthnik

[jinxe]

hi, i'm ded today

but i'm poppin to say i lofe chris @vesthnik

[postmortiem-a]

she got her kidney, fellas. ( @vesthnik )

[hexwrought-a]

His hammer, normally a weightless thing in his hand, something effortless to wield, feels far too heavy now as he stands before Viktor. Jayce had come here in a fit of annoyance after their most recent scuffle, intent on returning the favor. But all that anger seeps out of him the moment Viktor speaks.

@vesthnik; ❛ Tell me you came to find me. That you changed your mind. ❜

A dull ache grips Jayce's chest at that revelation, surprise flickering across his eyes at the unusual vulnerability found in the herald's words, however fleeting.

They've shared plenty of moments where they weren't quite enemies, holding off their disagreements in the name of some greater, grander goal they both actually saw eye to eye on. Each was a truce that felt like a phantom of what they previously shared, never truly speaking on the beast in the room that overshadowed them both.

This felt different, though; like peeking beyond the curtain, upon something forbidden. There was a sense of desperation in the air that Jayce wasn't used to being on the receiving end of. Whatever it was, it sufficiently disarms him, the hammer in his grip leaning against the nearby wall, forgotten, as Jayce approaches with empty hands. A fight isn't what either of them needed today.

He wanted to say yes, to soothe whatever doubts burrow deep into his former partner, but he knows it would be a lie. So he refrains, instead coming to lean against Viktor's desk, arms crossed, barely a foot away. Jayce levels him with a knowing look reminiscent of their past— one that quietly states I see you. I see your suffering. You're not alone.

❛❛ You know the answer to that, ❜❜ he speaks low, a distinct lack of heat present in his voice, almost remorseful. A sigh falls from him. ❛❛ As long as you continue down this path, I'll always be there to stop you. ❜❜ And despite the declaration of opposition, there's a promise there; he'll always be there.

After a beat, Jayce reaches a hand forth, firm and warm on Viktor's shoulder, just as he'd done so many times in the past. ❛❛ But that doesn't mean I can't lend an ear. ❜❜

[moved-rh4egar]

crowned head rests upon a winged claw ⸻ serpentine tail lazily swaying about. the last winged mountain / the emerald death. . . resting in the sunlight not unlike a cat would. the air heavy with the beast's breath; the stench of sulfur and ash. ruby eyes open, staring down at viktor. a soft hiss ackowledges his presence, though the she-dragon does not move an inch.

@vesthnik LIKED.

[sangreprince]

Game Grumps Sentence Starters | ❝ Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you? ❞ | @vesthnik

❝ That's 一 Well. No? Not entirely incorrect. ❞ He wasn't about to explain in great detail how he had knowledge of a greater, existing timeline. Not that he had any concept of said greater timeline held in store. The Fates didn't exactly make their plans known, even to the one tasked with ensuring that nothing of outside influence attempted to intervene. As he was questioned of his out-of-place nature, Viktor was able to read him with ease. And Zagreus knew better than to attempt to lie. ❝ I'm not omnipresent. I was just told to monitor your situation and make sure nothing... Meddles, for lack of better words? ❞

The Prince hesitates for a moment, shifting his weight in an expression of unease.  ❝ I'm more of a spectator, if that's the appropriate word? I really don't know much else aside from what I was told to was to happen. In horribly vague terms, I might add. Something about 'what is foreseen cannot be forsaken' here. ❞

❝ You know about as much as I do, and I really don't know much. ❞

[hexwrought-a]

≻ how does your muse navigate justice & mercy ? ≻ does your muse have any escapist behaviors ?

@vesthnik; inquired from this headcanon prompt.

⊹ — LIBRA .

≻ how does your muse navigate justice & mercy ?

stares at you with my big ol' eyes. jayce is so incredibly impressionable with this sort of thing; he always feels like the most drastic approach is the most appropriate one, especially early on. take the bridge scenario for example, where he felt that was a necessary choice in the name of justice, and the misplaced thought that he had to do it to fulfill his role. another example, of course, is his confrontation with viktor. there could have been so many other ways to approach that scenario, but jayce chose the most drastic of options, and dubbed it a mercy. naturally both of these examples are just me kind of scraping the surface. but overall, jayce reads to me as someone who, if he's being influenced, will approach a particularly stressful problem rather black and white because he feels like he has to out of some kind of obligation, where he has to 'live up' to expectations thrust upon him ( the council, the viktor from the future ).

i think, though, when he's finally left alone to his own devices with these huge decisions, he's much more gray in his approach. selfish, even. take when he's challenged by heimerdinger; jayce knows that he's probably right, that it would be safer to destroy what his and viktor's research had become. doing so would have been a mercy, but it also meant damning someone he wanted to save. so jayce takes a selfish route, and the outcasting of heimerdinger, though it hurt him, is something he would consider justice.

⊹ — PISCES .

≻ does your muse have any escapist behaviors ?

extremely, yes. as we know, a lot of jayce's time in the spotlight is both something he forces but also something he relishes in, at least at the start. naturally once that novelty wears off, the pressure becomes very hard to bear, but he still pushes through. i imagine in such scenarios he withdraws into himself afterwards, finds comfort in the familiarity of the lab, and literally anywhere he can simply be himself, and not a facsimile crafted to appease the public eye. so his escapism mostly revolves around moments where he can finally shed his 'person suit,' and exist as the man he wanted to be; bright eyed, hopeful, with a desire to create and benefit the world. it's bittersweet, however, since he ends up feeling like he can no longer truly achieve that in the end.

[hexwrought-a]

@vesthnik;

His landing is unceremonious upon linoleum floors, each breath shoving through his nose and mouth labored as if scrambling for purchase. There are a few shakes of his head as he slowly begins to gather his wits, eyes refocusing to this new reality, where he has been tasked with a mission— one that swims through his mind like molasses, sinking lower and lower into his belly with a cruel chill. The thought makes him grimace, a grunt of disdain pulling from him as he rises to his feet. His leg aches.

Jayce— the defender— the destroyer— takes in the sight of the room around him, and is immediately surprised by what he finds. It's the lab— polished, much newer and cleaner than he remembers having left it. His brows crease in confusion as he rummages around the strewn notes on the nearest workbench, slowly absorbing the old blueprints; some of which are unfinished, yet he knows that they had been finished years ago. Things tick along in his brain, and he's beginning to formulate that this might not be the right place, the right time.

Panic grips him then, his heart picking up, hands trembling. He sets his hammer to lean against the workbench before slumping down into the nearest chair, curling in on himself over the spread of notes and blueprints. There's an attempt at grounding himself with held breaths, but it does little to ease his inner turmoil— for with every moment he shuts his eyes too long, he sees what task lay ahead for him, he sees the echos of faces and ghosts and worlds lain to ruin. It's too much, and so his fists collide with the tabletop, a guttural scream emanating from low in his throat before he slouches again, panting and at least a little bit sated.

He rises again after a moment, disregarding the chair. In that same moment, he hears the door click.

[hexfcrged]

A week prior, the defender had retaliated against the herald's most recent series of break-ins, returning the favor and wrecking havoc in his lab. Their back and forth would always continue— but when the herald returned next, the defender was nowhere to be found within his lab this time around. Unusual given the hour, but it was an advantageous moment for him to freely rummage and take as he pleased.

When Jayce found himself in the lab that following morning, he quickly noticed far more out of place and missing than anticipated. Vacant crystal slots, dead power supplies, and broken prototypes were expected— but the absence of a handful of articles of clothing certainly wasn't. His spare jacket alongside one of his comfortable undershirts were gone from their hooks. It was perplexing. Why, of all things, would Viktor take those?

Unless.

@vesthnik; [ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒 ] ― sender steals an item of receiver’s clothes because it smells like them (slam dunks this in your inbox)

A chill sinks in his belly. That spare jacket had his personal notes in them. He has to get it back.

Jayce plans his next maneuver carefully; scouting out the times that Viktor isn't in his lab, but rather his own personal residence, during downtime hours. He descends in the shadow of night down to emberflit alley when the time is right, for once avoiding his adversary's lab in favor of his home. It's unorthodox for them, but ultimately their entire dynamic was unorthodox in general.

In his preliminary check before heading to the door, he peers through the windows to ensure his timing is correct. Thankfully it is, as Viktor is easily seen through the windows. But the sight of what he's actively doing flips Jayce on his head. He has to do a double take, almost walking past the view and to the door to actually confront Viktor. Instead, Jayce lingers, ensuring what he's seeing is, indeed, what he's seeing.

His jacket is clutched close to Viktor's body, held up to his face in a way that leaves no question as to what he's doing. Jayce's heart aches at the sight, a slurry of thoughts rolling over in his mind at what the hell that might even mean. His throat suddenly feels dry, and he finally heads to the front door, out of Viktor's line of sight. What is he supposed to do with this new information?

After a series of breaths, a hand raps upon the door where a hammer would usually announce his presence, a tool notably absent for this visit. The moment the door opens, Jayce is looking at Viktor, displeased; but something in his eye is softer than usual. The sight of Viktor having a vulnerable moment that Jayce inadvertently witnessed still fresh in his mind's eye. ❛❛ Viktor, ❜❜ Jayce says sternly, hands on his hips as if he were scolding the man. ❛❛ I need my jacket back. ❜❜

He couldn't care less about the undershirt— all that matters was the jacket. More specifically, what was kept abreast within its inner pocket. Jayce is trying his best to not show his hand with just how concerned he actually is, fearful of the embarrassment that may follow if Viktor actually looked through his notes.

❛❛ I know you have it. ❜❜ I just saw you smelling it.