expiationlogs | dead to the power of two

[ this particular day finds charles at the farm — he is done volunteering for the day, and instead sits there in the middle of the field, heedless of the cold february weather. in front of him is a large tome that, when he lifts it up, one might see reads major arcana ii at the back. ]

No, [ he mutters, ] Nope, that's not it. Hold on, let me try this again —

[ who is he talking to? apparently the sheep who is hanging out nearby, or maybe just himself. in any case, he starts to recite something — latin, perhaps, by the sound of it — and it makes a golden cord appear right in front of him... only, the cord lashes forward, twirls itself tight around his leg and tugs him until he falls flat on his face on the ground. then, it simply disappears in a flash. ]

... Ow. [ lifting his head, charles looks up and straight at one of the farm cats, sitting right there and looking at him. it makes a sound like prrr, and charles glares at it. ]

Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, furball.

[ and then, only just noticing you there, ] Oh. Uh, how long have you been there?

i. laboratory

[ viktor dies, and on the seventh day after, he awakes in his bed, almost as if it is all a distant dream, about to fade away as the day dawns.

viktor dies, and wakes, and the dread that seeps in is worse than the cold air on a winter's day in the undercity, settling inside his chest and bones as he takes one breath after another, tries to reassure himself that his lungs still work, that they are not slowly filling with blood and suffocating him once more.

and then he gets up.

and though for the rest of that day, his laboratory and workspace are quiet and abandoned, the next day they are once again lit up, signaling to any possible passerby that he is there and back at work. ]

ii. lupin

[ late that week, one may find him sitting in a table at the back of lupin, staring into his glass of liquor (vodka, with a dash of licorice extract added in for flavour) contemplatively. ]

I thought it would feel... different.

[ he mutters this, quietly, watching the liquid swirl as he turns the glass around once, and again, and again. what meaning is there in death, if it means nothing? he should be dead. here, back home — both, neither. none of it seems to matter much.

and if it doesn't... then does it matter, if he abandons his guilt and wants to avoid the experience of slowly suffocating on his own blood for the second time? he will not touch the hexcore, no, never again — but the hexcore is not the only available avenue, here. back home, his course is certain, his fate sealed for him; here, not so much. and if none of it truly matters, then perhaps... perhaps. ]

[ there on the floor, spots dancing across his vision, his lungs feeling both wet and burning at the same time, viktor manages one last message — spoken in a weak voice, interspersed with coughs, he sends it to octavian: the second theory... seems to be correct. do not let anyone near the hexcore. i will... see you in a week. i hope.

(the second theory, of course, is his hypothesizing about the way aldrip treats him: theory one is that it is keeping him alive, not letting his state worsen to the point of death; theory two is that it will let him die, only to bring him back, rinse and repeat.)

true to his word, exactly a week from that, he wakes in his laboratory again — and where once, he would have got up and gone back to work, there is something else to do, now. he grabs his cane and his coat, and walks the distance separating his workspace from octavian's, knocks on the door, three rapid taps once he makes it there. ]

[Levi was often found at The Last Drop, since he worked for Silco and sometimes in the bar itself, but Lupin was really more his speed. Calmer and quieter, almost but not quite like the jazz club he occasionally snuck into when he still lived in Prehevil. So he's gotten himself a beer and is headed to find his own table in the back when he passes by just as Viktor muses.]

Hm? Did you say something?

[All things considered it isn't a message Octavian is surprised to get; slightly surprised that it's Viktor's voice, rough as it sounds, although he supposes with the mention of the Hexcore it makes sense that he wouldn't want to leave a "paper trail" where someone could realize it's here.

But other than that it's not a surprise. Octavian listens to it and does nothing especially dramatic; Viktor would not want him to rush to his side, if he would even get there in time, and leaving a lengthy message in return is not Octavian's style. He will miss Viktor if the second theory is wrong on the point of returning in a week, this is true, but that much he will keep to himself until Viktor is hopefully in front of him again.

In the end he doesn't actually reply at all, but nevertheless he will look after the core, no one will ever get into his safe. Part of him wonders if the thing reacts when Viktor dies, but he made a promise, and the safe remains locked.

Three taps on the door can only be Viktor (because Charles or Root would knock and also shout something at him, bless them), and he leaves what he's doing to answer the door and gesture Viktor inside. Only once he's there and Octavian has shut the door does he turn and wordlessly hold out an arm for Viktor to come here, come here, dying is terrible, come here.]

[It's been about two weeks since their collective dreaming. He's done a spectacular job of pretending nothing is wrong, going about his usual business and delving into a new venture to distract himself.

The distractions have stopped working. With the idea that perhaps he needs a different one, he texts a particular ghost:]

Charles, do you have time for that walk we discussed?

[On a perfectly normal evening, Junpei is doing the dishes. He insists on this, because Charles does all the cooking despite not getting to enjoy the food, therefore Junpei will do the dishes, no arguments. Not that he'll stop Charles from lingering and passing him plates and so on, which is usually how it goes, because why should they ever be in separate rooms for more than ten minutes at home? Silly.

So here he is, rinsing a pot. Odd as the shared dreams were a few weeks ago, they weren't that terrible? Things have been good for a while in Aldrip, and of course things are always good here in their ultra domestic household. Junpei's biggest stress in the past few weeks has been cleaning up sandwich messes at work, which is nice.

He rinses the pot and passes it to Charles, because of course Charles is right there, and he says,] Hey, can I ask you a personal thing? You don't have to answer.

[That's a given, of course, and they've been better at not not answering, but he still likes to say it.]

[ rafal had been squinting for the most part. human magic is so odd sometimes. wands and books, staffs and rods. but then magic isn't an innate quality for them as it is with dragons. ]

Long enough, it seems, to be confused.

What are you doing?

What does it look like?

[ he mumbles this not-actually-a-real-question in a somewhat petulant tone, like, yeah, he knows it looks bad, and the fact rafal has to ask is just more proof of that. he pushes himself up to a sitting position, and runs his hand through his hair before he actually answers, ]

Trying to learn magic. It's going... uh, reckon it's going pretty poorly, so far.

What sort of magic was it?

[ it didn't look like anything he was familiar with. ]

[ meanwhile charles, who actually ended up having quite a nice time during the dreams, has been going about his everyday life as normal; and when the text comes in, well, he's just delighted, honestly. the guy remembers what they talked about! and wants to actually come with him! ]

yeah!! course i do, i'm real glad you asked! when do you wanna go?

[ somehow, he manages to make even his text responses drip with enthusiasm... ]

[ the past weeks have been... nice, actually, even with the dreams — he'd enjoyed the ones he'd been in, with the exception of a few of them, and outside of that life in aldrip has been relatively good. well, it's always good with the two of them, of course, no matter what else is happening, and the domestic routine is a steady warmth in his chest every time.

he's been branching out with dishes lately, too, and today was for panko-crusted chicken with rice, hence the pot junpei is rinsing, because they don't have a rice cooker — charles takes it, and as he's reaching for a towel to dry the pot and put it back in its drawer, he says, ] Yeah, course you can.

[ if there's anyone here who has the right to ask him anything, ever, it's junpei. but he does dry the pot and put it away first, before turning to him; something in the tone tells him he shouldn't be answering this while focused on the dishes... or maybe it's the immediate offer for him to avoid answering altogether. in any case; he's done with the pot, he's listening, so hit him with it. ]

[ he's not used to too many others occupying the tables at the back, where it is most isolated — and so levi speaking makes him blink as he lifts his head and then say, dry and quiet, ]

Just talking to myself.

[ which, hm, if that doesn't say a lot about his state of being right now, he's not sure what does. in any case; his mind isn't doing him a lot of favours right now, so maybe something else will. ] What do you think of death?

[ yes, it is the lack of any written evidence of it, but also the fact he can barely see at that point — speech-to-text might have worked, but why do that when he'd be speaking regardless? and he doesn't expect a response; no point in that when he'll be dead, unable to read or listen to it until he is back, and can go see octavian in person. his own message is a passing of information, a plea and an apology all in one go, there only because he wouldn't have octavian think he's returned home, leave him with no explanation over his own sudden disappearance.

(he doesn't do this for anyone else — jayce will undoubtedly come to the lab, which means he'll be found, which means the others will be informed. it will be a bother once he's back, but only then.)

there is a modicum of relief as octavian opens the door; there was always the chance that he'd be gone, for one reason or another, and the haphazard message viktor left him would have been their last communication —

it's a terrible thought, but only a thought, because here octavian is, not alive but nonetheless well. and here's the thing: neither of them is really the hugging type, instead choosing to hold hands or lean against each other, existing next to one another with at least one point of contact. but now, as he reaches for octavian, it is to stumble over to him, let his crutch rest against the wall so he can wrap both his arms around octavian, holding onto him as he takes deep breaths. and he will find some words, soon; right now, he's simply going to feel this, the fact they are both here — still, again. ]

[True enough that Octavian has never been a hugger. In life he wasn't much one for any kind of touch, only comfortable with it when it came from family— but then he died and suddenly to feel the physical anchor of himself in the world became the most important thing. It's why he spends so much time now touching all the tools in the lab, touching every table, fascinated by the cats at the cafe; the lack of one's whole self is a terrible part of this process, dying and coming back.

And so he understands that much wordlessly when Viktor wraps around him, all of it layered into the grief and the worry that he might not have returned. Octavian wraps his arms around Viktor in turn, tight and definite; he's here, they both are. He presses his cheek into Viktor's hair and simply appreciates the weight and the warmth of him, returned and alive.

(A thought occurs to him then, that he left Viktor to die and then didn't seek him out, and isn't that what was done to him? Guilt twists in his gut, but surely not, no, this was entirely different— he won't unpack this now, in any case.)

Viktor. Nothing else matters besides Viktor's return. Octavian doesn't know how long they stand there like this, minutes? An hour? But when he feels like Viktor is at least not going to collapse around him, he says,] Welcome back.

[—which is I missed you and it must have been hard and a handful of other things at once, but Viktor will know. He'll know.]

[Oh, Junpei thinks, as he picks up a plate, he's listening-listening, alright. He's going to keep scrubbing dishes, but only because he knows if he doesn't, they're going to forget to finish these until tomorrow, and then it'll be gross? Regardless.]

So I was thinking the other day, and maybe I'm just thinking too hard, but I've never seen you without a shirt on. And I'm not, like, complaining, [of course not, every time Charles reaches up to a high shelf or wears Junpei's t-shirt and he gets a look at a sliver of midriff he loses at least an hour of productivity,] But is that... a thing?

[A thing, but what else would he call it? It was a coincidence before but now it feels like a pattern, and when it's one of them with a pattern of behavior, it's somehow always one of those shitty things they try not to talk about. So: here's talking about it, unless Charles takes the free out, which is still on the table.

It's just, well. Knowing them, Junpei figures it's got to be either "I'm just a shirts all the time guy, even at the beach," or the worst thing he's ever heard. Either way, they made that promise...]

[ A semi-quiet respite is what Shigeru needs after he goes about his night at one of the clinics or hospitals. He tries to keep himself busy with work, with anything honestly, but the dreams and nightmares tend to keep him up regardless of how exhausted he makes him. So he finds himself at Lupin cradling his half-empty glass in black-gloved hands. But he does overhear Viktor's words pausing as he walks by. Did he mean the dreams or something?? ] Thought what would?

[ It comes out even before he has a chance to stop himself. ]

[ of course octavian understands without him having to say a word — understands the need to feel, to be certain of his own existence, to anchor himself to something else, someone else, to say without saying that you are here, i am here, we are both here right now, this is real.

because it is a terrifying thing, death — and no one knows that better than octavian.

they stand there until the combined support from octavian and viktor's good leg are no longer enough to hold him upright, until his eventual collapse might be far more physical than metaphorical; and so he holds on with one arm, still, the other reaching for his crutch, leaning on it once more without moving away at all.

and of course he knows; just as his own message had been all of it, i'm afraid and i will miss you even when i won't be aware of it and i'm sorry, so is it easy for him to hear everything octavian puts between the lines, there, every word that lingers in the air between them.

which is why he says, quiet and yet soft, ] I came to you immediately. After I woke up.

[ oh, there's someone else here — viktor spends a whole five seconds trying to think of a possible way to get out of this conversation, but then again... hadn't he just been contemplating how it seems none of it really matters, here or back home? what he thinks about things certainly doesn't seem to, so maybe picking the brain of someone else over this might prove fruitful.

his own brain is definitely not being fruitful in any capacity except the depressing kind, right now.

and so... ]

Dying, [ he says, wry and blunt. ]

Oh, s-sorry.

[He probably broke this guy's chain of thought or something. Levi is ready to slink away when Viktor speaks again.]

What do you mean? Death is...just death. Its a part of life. Everyone dies someday...uh, well, I guess its not the same here.

[Coming back from death was still wrong and weird.]

[ well, listening-listening doesn't mean he's not going to take the plates handed to him and put them on the rack to dry... but in the current absence of plates, he's going to focus on junpei — and as he does so, the way he freezes at the question is almost painfully obvious. his smile doesn't falter; of course it doesn't, it's his immediate response in a situation like this, too ingrained in him for him to drop it... but it's the kind of smile that never quite reaches his eyes. ]

It's, [ he starts, that smile still firmly in place, ] It's nothing. I mean, it's fine, it's not —

[ and god, he can hear himself, knows that the halting words are all too close to taking that out offered to him; but what if he does? will he simply continue to keep his shirt on like he has for now, every day when they're together? and it isn't that he doesn't trust junpei with the knowledge — of course he does. but somehow, carrying junpei's burdens for him is far easier than letting him carry his burdens in return.

and yet, they promised. they promised. ]

... It's just going to upset you, [ he says finally, looking down and then up again, meeting junpei's eyes with a wordless apology. ]

[ Heimerdinger has been making use of the laboratories at the STEM club facilities, and has yet to spend much time in Viktor's lab. Since they parted ways, he's given his former pupils a bit of a wide berth, even if their divisions mean little now that they are all here together in Aldrip. But, when he receives word from Jayce that Viktor has died and subsequently returned to life, well. He's not about to let that news pass by without some further investigation.

He stops by the lab on the seventh day, and continues on his way once he sees that the lights are out. But he swings back around on the eighth day, and upon seeing signs of life inside, lets himself in. ]

Ahem.

[ A small clearing of his throat is all he will do to get Viktor's attention before continuing on. ]

I'm glad to see you up and about once more, my boy.

[Points for worst thing ever, Junpei thinks, almost as soon as Charles' smile gets like that. He just keeps washing this same plate, waiting for Charles to work out what he wants to do; they promised, and he knows that has to be a big part of Charles fumbling through his half-started excuse there, so—he can wait. Charles has always waited for him.

And oh, if this were not one of those terrible things, Charles giving Junpei's own line back to him would be kind of funny. He scoffs and sticks one hand under the faucet to rinse off the soap, then reaches over to cup Charles' cheek... wetly. Wetly is fine.]

Yeah, probably, [he says, because it's true, and shrugs, because that doesn't matter to him as much as his promise to Charles.] Not really worried about it.

[He's been upset before and he can be again, if needs must—! He pulls his hand away and holds out the plate.]

We've got silverware and utensils left, so... think about it? You've got a whole couple minutes.

dead to the power of two | OPEN

charles rowland 💀 ota + closed below

magic practice ▷ OTA

viktor 💠 ota + closed below

post-death ▷ OTA ▷ cw: mentions of suffocation

CLOSED TO OCTAVIAN ❯

ii

kicks my feet up

late january; un: altius

scoots in here

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twirls you

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ii

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i.

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