[ There's a staggering sensation of deja-vu as he clutches Viktor to him, so strong that he almost believes that the anomaly had flung him backwards in time rather than to an alternate dimension. For a moment, he's back there again, exhaustion and grief weighing deep in his bones after weeks and weeks of rambling frenzied theories to a silent cocoon, of a chalkboard covered in the mad scrawl of no one's handwriting but his own, of reaching for a warm shoulder that was no longer there. Of pushing back the slowly dawning horror that rather than saving a life, whatever was happening seemed more akin to an act of resurrection.
It's the underlying fondness in Viktor's voice that snaps him back to reality, or whatever constitutes as reality now, because he knows - he knows that hadn't been there the first time around. (Had it? Had it? He's replayed the scene in his mind so many times trying to figure out what went wrong, what he could have said instead, what he could have done, that the memory's worn down soft and smooth like metal handled too often, impossible to tell what the original form had been.) Hope lurches breathlessly in his stomach - along with sickening terror, the stillness of time before the drop.
Was this forgiveness? Or...? ]
Sorry, sorry! [ He separates from Viktor enough to let the poor guy breathe, but still keeps both hands against his shoulders in some desperate attempt to get him to stay. ]
Whoa. You look - [ He fully takes in Viktor's appearance for the first time, eyes wide in a mix of elation and bewilderment as he tries to find the right word to say. Fleshy? Normal? Organic? ] - you look good? Really good!
[ Maybe there's another ledge nearby he can fling himself off of.... ]
[ there is something odd to all this — like the world has lurched one centimeter to the right, and nothing is quite where it should be, a sense of something intrinsic being wrong... and viktor can't put his finger on the exact thing. it is the desperation with which jayce clutches onto him, it is the wild look in his eyes for a fraction of a second as he apologises, it is the way he looks at viktor like he's never seen him before —
it's wrong, wrong, wrong, because jayce shouldn't be like this. jayce shouldn't look at viktor and his body that is, here, preserved in a suspended state of mere days from expiring entirely, and think it's good —
because what is the alternative? if this, him as he is, makes his partner look almost elated, then... dread coils itself around his mind, digs tiny hooks into him, and he grips his crutch tighter, looks down, ostensibly at the shattered remains of his coffee cup.
he closes his eyes. when he opens them again, it is to fix jayce with a look, and with a nod of his head towards the table he leapt over a few minutes ago, ]
Take your things. I'm not having this conversation with you here. We'll go to the lab. It's a bit of a walk, but... [ he makes a face that seems to indicate "it is what it is" and "better not to be in the city center anyway", accompanied with half a shrug, what with jayce's hands still on his shoulders.
(and no, he's not addressing the whole "you look good" thing, at all. it's as if jayce hadn't even said anything — ) ]
[ With the adrenaline and elation wearing off, clarity of thought finally starts trickling back into Jayce's head as he catches his breath. He's already been made aware of potential differences in timelines, but it's only now that it fully hits him what Viktor's appearance - warm, human, worryingly pale and skinny - most likely implies.
So. Not forgiveness then, but perhaps a second chance. If not to repair the fraying strands of their relationship - because the guilt at even the thought of lying to his partner at this point is already eating him alive - then at the very least doing what they can to figure out a cure. They have time now, and access to knowledge and resources far outside of even Piltover's purview, and a whole host of extradimensional travelers to learn from. Surely with their combined drive, without the distraction of politics and looming war, they can create another miracle again.
(Please. If there's anything, anything he can fix from the scraps of ruin in his hands, please let it be this.) ]
Y-yeah, okay! Just - just give me a second, hang on--
[ Already near vibrating out of his skin, Jayce springs into a flurry of frenetic energy at Viktor's look. He first dashes back to his table, shoves his journal unceremoniously into his jacket heedless of the loose pages spilling out, then grabs a fistful of napkins. Then it's back to Viktor, where he kneels at his feet and carefully mops up the spilled coffee and shattered ceramic. From there, he goes to dump the mess into the garbage before making a beeline to the counter, where - having never quite mastered the skill of an indoor voice - he can be heard profusely apologizing to the annoyed barista and saying something about washing dishes.
A few minutes of fidgeting later and he finally makes his way back to Viktor, pressing a fresh cup of overly sweet and milky coffee into his hands. ]
Okay, I think I've taken care of everything, let's go. You said something about a lab?
[ not forgiveness, no — or perhaps it is, in the way viktor keeps thinking of everything he's found out while here, from the hammer to the shimmer factory to a myriad of other things... and yet. i know i should have left a long time ago, he'd told silco, and that remained true — but so did another thing, something he hadn't spoken out loud then: that as long as jayce remained, so would he. that despite their differences, he would never, could never leave jayce, the single most important person in his life, unless — well. unless something truly drastic happened, he supposes.
so though he intends to speak of it all, is any of it enough for him to not feel like a part of him that's been missing these past months is finally back in place? no, and as little as he wants to examine the thought, he's also not in the habit of lying to himself.
instead of doing that, he watches jayce spring to action with fondness fluttering like a bird in his chest; and when the cup of coffee is in his hands (and of course jayce knows how he takes his coffee, has known it for years now, and yet the little gesture is enough to make viktor try and fail to bite down on a smile), he thinks, i missed you, and decidedly doesn't say it.
instead, he mutters, ] Thank you, [ for the coffee, even though he didn't have to; and then nods, turning towards the door. ]
Yes, I have a lab... eh, a workspace would perhaps be more accurate. It isn't much, but... [ well, it's better than nothing. and yes, he's been here for a whole of two months, and the first thing he did was find a proper workspace. obviously. ]
[ Obviously Viktor would have found a proper workspace first thing, and obviously Jayce takes this in stride with zero surprise like it's a totally normal and expected course of action. It's what he would have prioritized as well, after all - arbitrary indulgences such as sustenance and income and housing all come second when there's so much research to be done. He's already halfway to turning his free temporary housing at the inn into a makeshift lab himself, so it's probably for the best that Viktor has brought up a real one before he wound up exploding another wall.
He's never met anyone else who just gets it, is the thing. Oh, there'd been plenty of enterprising inventors and scientists at the Academy, but it'd always been just work or future glory for them; none of them understood the need, the obsession, to breaking the world into bits by bits, taking apart every atom to reveal all its hidden secrets, then putting it back together again into something better. He'd never realized how lonely he'd been, sitting by himself on top of a cliff, staring up at a view that no one else could see.
At least, not until Viktor. ]
Hey, it's at least gotta be better than the rubble of a blown-up apartment building, right? [ He shoots Viktor a wry grin, heading to the entrance of the cafe to open the door for him. ] Lead the way.
[ His hand automatically drops to the small of Viktor's back to support him as they walk, a long ingrained instinct by now that he doesn't even notice. Subconsciously though, his shoulders relax from the stiff posture he normally holds himself in public; it's a little like a cog clicking in place, filling in the empty gaps, a perfectly matched gear that has him moving with a purpose where before he'd just been spinning aimlessly in place.
They're going to have to talk, he knows this. There's too much to be left unsaid, not after everything, too many secrets that should have come to light before it became far too late. But for now, at least, he can be content with finally having his partner back. ]
[ that wry grin makes his own lips tilt up in response — this kind of a back-and-forth is easy, has always been easy in the way it has never been with anyone else. it had been jayce's brilliant mind that had moved him to action, all those years ago, the ideas that he couldn't bear the thought of never seeing the light of day, never being worked on and brought to reality... but there had been more than that, ever since standing in that very rubble that jayce is speaking of: a kinship, like every soul he'd met until then had been the wrong shape, like a part of him had always been waiting for jayce, for him to fill in that missing piece in the puzzle of his life.
the hand on his back is warm and steady, and viktor lets out a breath, one that flows through his lungs easier than any breath he has taken or let out has in the past weeks. he matches his pace to jayce, asks him little questions on the way — how long jayce has been here, what he has seen, if he has met caitlyn yet; little things that he knows will get his partner to go on longer tangents, will leave him to listen and nod his head occasionally to show he is still listening. normality, in a way this place hasn't made him feel like even once in the past two months, yet.
eventually, though, they make it past the city center, to quieter streets that lead to the small house that viktor calls his. it isn't much; the paint on the door is chipped, and the lock takes two tries to open. ] Come in, [ he says, pushing the door open, stopping then to remove his long winter coat, hang it on a hook along the entranceway.
it is immediately obvious that most of the house is the workshop: what should be a living room has most of the space taken up by a desk and a drawer that seems to be full of tools, papers scattered across the desk (and partly the floor), a large chalkboard hanging on the wall, runes and equations written on it. there's another room, far smaller, just enough to fit a bed; the two other doors at the back lead to a small kitchenette and a bathroom.
there is, however, a small couch pressed against the wall, and viktor walks to it, sits down, leans against his crutch as he looks at jayce with a look that lands squarely somewhere between wary and resigned. ]
Before anything else... tell me what you remember from home. I suspect it is more than I do.
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expiationlogs2024-12-09 08:17 am
no subject
It's the underlying fondness in Viktor's voice that snaps him back to reality, or whatever constitutes as reality now, because he knows - he knows that hadn't been there the first time around. (Had it? Had it? He's replayed the scene in his mind so many times trying to figure out what went wrong, what he could have said instead, what he could have done, that the memory's worn down soft and smooth like metal handled too often, impossible to tell what the original form had been.) Hope lurches breathlessly in his stomach - along with sickening terror, the stillness of time before the drop.
Was this forgiveness? Or...? ]
Sorry, sorry! [ He separates from Viktor enough to let the poor guy breathe, but still keeps both hands against his shoulders in some desperate attempt to get him to stay. ]
Whoa. You look - [ He fully takes in Viktor's appearance for the first time, eyes wide in a mix of elation and bewilderment as he tries to find the right word to say. Fleshy? Normal? Organic? ] - you look good? Really good!
[ Maybe there's another ledge nearby he can fling himself off of.... ]
no subject
it's wrong, wrong, wrong, because jayce shouldn't be like this. jayce shouldn't look at viktor and his body that is, here, preserved in a suspended state of mere days from expiring entirely, and think it's good —
because what is the alternative? if this, him as he is, makes his partner look almost elated, then... dread coils itself around his mind, digs tiny hooks into him, and he grips his crutch tighter, looks down, ostensibly at the shattered remains of his coffee cup.
he closes his eyes. when he opens them again, it is to fix jayce with a look, and with a nod of his head towards the table he leapt over a few minutes ago, ]
Take your things. I'm not having this conversation with you here. We'll go to the lab. It's a bit of a walk, but... [ he makes a face that seems to indicate "it is what it is" and "better not to be in the city center anyway", accompanied with half a shrug, what with jayce's hands still on his shoulders.
(and no, he's not addressing the whole "you look good" thing, at all. it's as if jayce hadn't even said anything — ) ]
no subject
So. Not forgiveness then, but perhaps a second chance. If not to repair the fraying strands of their relationship - because the guilt at even the thought of lying to his partner at this point is already eating him alive - then at the very least doing what they can to figure out a cure. They have time now, and access to knowledge and resources far outside of even Piltover's purview, and a whole host of extradimensional travelers to learn from. Surely with their combined drive, without the distraction of politics and looming war, they can create another miracle again.
(Please. If there's anything, anything he can fix from the scraps of ruin in his hands, please let it be this.) ]
Y-yeah, okay! Just - just give me a second, hang on--
[ Already near vibrating out of his skin, Jayce springs into a flurry of frenetic energy at Viktor's look. He first dashes back to his table, shoves his journal unceremoniously into his jacket heedless of the loose pages spilling out, then grabs a fistful of napkins. Then it's back to Viktor, where he kneels at his feet and carefully mops up the spilled coffee and shattered ceramic. From there, he goes to dump the mess into the garbage before making a beeline to the counter, where - having never quite mastered the skill of an indoor voice - he can be heard profusely apologizing to the annoyed barista and saying something about washing dishes.
A few minutes of fidgeting later and he finally makes his way back to Viktor, pressing a fresh cup of overly sweet and milky coffee into his hands. ]
Okay, I think I've taken care of everything, let's go. You said something about a lab?
no subject
myriad of other things... and yet. i know i should have left a long time ago, he'd told silco, and that remained true — but so did another thing, something he hadn't spoken out loud then: that as long as jayce remained, so would he. that despite their differences, he would never, could never leave jayce, the single most important person in his life, unless — well. unless something truly drastic happened, he supposes.
so though he intends to speak of it all, is any of it enough for him to not feel like a part of him that's been missing these past months is finally back in place? no, and as little as he wants to examine the thought, he's also not in the habit of lying to himself.
instead of doing that, he watches jayce spring to action with fondness fluttering like a bird in his chest; and when the cup of coffee is in his hands (and of course jayce knows how he takes his coffee, has known it for years now, and yet the little gesture is enough to make viktor try and fail to bite down on a smile), he thinks, i missed you, and decidedly doesn't say it.
instead, he mutters, ] Thank you, [ for the coffee, even though he didn't have to; and then nods, turning towards the door. ]
Yes, I have a lab... eh, a workspace would perhaps be more accurate. It isn't much, but... [ well, it's better than nothing. and yes, he's been here for a whole of two months, and the first thing he did was find a proper workspace. obviously. ]
no subject
He's never met anyone else who just gets it, is the thing. Oh, there'd been plenty of enterprising inventors and scientists at the Academy, but it'd always been just work or future glory for them; none of them understood the need, the obsession, to breaking the world into bits by bits, taking apart every atom to reveal all its hidden secrets, then putting it back together again into something better. He'd never realized how lonely he'd been, sitting by himself on top of a cliff, staring up at a view that no one else could see.
At least, not until Viktor. ]
Hey, it's at least gotta be better than the rubble of a blown-up apartment building, right? [ He shoots Viktor a wry grin, heading to the entrance of the cafe to open the door for him. ] Lead the way.
[ His hand automatically drops to the small of Viktor's back to support him as they walk, a long ingrained instinct by now that he doesn't even notice. Subconsciously though, his shoulders relax from the stiff posture he normally holds himself in public; it's a little like a cog clicking in place, filling in the empty gaps, a perfectly matched gear that has him moving with a purpose where before he'd just been spinning aimlessly in place.
They're going to have to talk, he knows this. There's too much to be left unsaid, not after everything, too many secrets that should have come to light before it became far too late. But for now, at least, he can be content with finally having his partner back. ]
no subject
the hand on his back is warm and steady, and viktor lets out a breath, one that flows through his lungs easier than any breath he has taken or let out has in the past weeks. he matches his pace to jayce, asks him little questions on the way — how long jayce has been here, what he has seen, if he has met caitlyn yet; little things that he knows will get his partner to go on longer tangents, will leave him to listen and nod his head occasionally to show he is still listening. normality, in a way this place hasn't made him feel like even once in the past two months, yet.
eventually, though, they make it past the city center, to quieter streets that lead to the small house that viktor calls his. it isn't much; the paint on the door is chipped, and the lock takes two tries to open. ] Come in, [ he says, pushing the door open, stopping then to remove his long winter coat, hang it on a hook along the entranceway.
it is immediately obvious that most of the house is the workshop: what should be a living room has most of the space taken up by a desk and a drawer that seems to be full of tools, papers scattered across the desk (and partly the floor), a large chalkboard hanging on the wall, runes and equations written on it. there's another room, far smaller, just enough to fit a bed; the two other doors at the back lead to a small kitchenette and a bathroom.
there is, however, a small couch pressed against the wall, and viktor walks to it, sits down, leans against his crutch as he looks at jayce with a look that lands squarely somewhere between wary and resigned. ]
Before anything else... tell me what you remember from home. I suspect it is more than I do.