Looks a mess... but you're still talking to me, aren't you?
[Viktor huffs, trying to maintain some strict composure. Some sanity, amidst the madness of the situation. He thumbs across Jayce's cheekbone, his pulse point, tilts his head to look down into his exposed chest. Viktor can become... complete desensitized to the gore of the sight. It's shot the moon into fascination. Watching what was once his own heart working in pulses. Fighting for the man's very life. That's all Viktor could ask for it to accomplish.]
Your heart rate is very low, but mine was never that strong.
[ low but beating. his pulse was weak, shallow, but that is a natural occurrence for the kind he's become and they barely know a thing about. viktor's heart has adapted to jayce's chest like it was always meant to be nestled in there, so close that his ribs would hug him. he needs the bare minimum and a madman to try. and now he's here, with both he wouldn't be caught . . . dead? taking them for granted. he'd guard his heart as the most precious thing he'd ever been given, because it was. he'd blast anything apart that's so much as threaten viktor. his heart. his literal, figurative heart.
jayce sets a grimy hand over viktor's when he catches him taking smack about the most gracious thing he's given him.
It doesn't need to be perfect when it was always enough, Viktor.
[ in more ways than just keeping jayce physically alive. the depth of having his partner's heart in his chest, thumping slowly and keeping him . . . alive, giving him his blood— he doesn't know where to begin with repaying this. he does, actually. it starts with living. ]
[If his heart cannot keep Jayce going, then that's the last end of them both. It has to work. It has to. There is no other choice, for either of them. And they clearly cannot go on without each other. Neither can bare it.]
If you have the strength, try to sit up. I'll catch you if you can't yet.
[Yet. Being hopeful that it will be possible soon enough...]
[ he doesn't know until what point he could, but only trying would get him to any point of possibility. jayce waits for only a few self encouraging moments to anchor his hands wherever he could— viktor himself, grips within the cargo bed, anything he could flex his stiff fingers on, before it's a sharp breath in for him, one that shifts the bones of his right rib, oh that feels—
ignore the creak, ignore the little pops of bone moving— jayce forces his arms to contract and hoist his upper half up. it does not go without his grunts, turning into snarls as if that would intimidate his limbs to move the way he needed them to. with locked jaws and a trembling grip, jayce manages.
it's— strange. he's not tired, in the sense that he otherwise would be. he does not need to huff for air. it's more a sensation of . . . fighting to get the controls working. coordination. rest, he'd realize would be a good idea later. ]
I don't know, [ the aches drum like a faraway migraine. not so awful that he couldn't tolerate it, not so quiet that he couldn't feel it there, reminding him of his limits. ] how much more I could do.
Anything you can do, Jayce, is enough. I'll help you the rest of the way. As much as you like.
[Viktor doesn't want to force anything on Jayce, not anything more than he already has. He knows this is a terrible state to be in, that it is Viktor's fault for not being able to let the man go. Something they share, it was just Viktor's turn this time. That Jayce is immediately so forgiving, so glad to be alive despite the pain and terror of the situation, is what's holding Viktor together.
He'll begin to pull away the tubes connecting them. Jayce seems stable enough with the flow of shimmer cut. Once they're separated, Viktor isn't going anywhere,]
I'll carry you back to the Convoy, if that's alright... [a bit late to be asking permission for things, but Viktor can try to be better on that front. He knows well the resentment that can form when one is being too coddled or too neglected.]
[ try. all he needs is to try. see where he stands in all this to better test out later, when enough time has passed for them to try again, or, try something else. try more. with viktor here, jayce clings onto his metallic framework once he's got his legs hanging off the cargo bed. he starts with sliding his supposedly good leg on the floor, toes first, slowly, steady—
the second he tries to put weight on it his knee gives away like thin twigs. if he hadn't been holding his partner, he'd be down, and even then strength of his grip wouldn't hold him up for long. ]
—Y-yeah, okay.
[ at least— he's not embarrassed by that. let's just not do that by the scruff, which he has half the mind to joke about in the grime of this, but—
you know, maybe that's too insensitive. he won't. ]
You're doing well, Jayce. Don't push yourself, you'll have time later for that.
[No need to rush, recovery doesn't ever cooperate with that. It needs time and patience. Something Viktor had very little of, but he will try and provide it to Jayce. They won't let this beat them.]
Tell me if it's too harsh. My holding you. [It is not like Viktor has ever done this before. Even if he was healthier, he wouldn't have had the build to be picking up other men. Especially not anybody Jayce's height and musculature. Supporting Jayce, he gets the tubing removed between them so nothing is going to tangle them up and cause problems. Those can drain the rest of the way in the back of Jayce's truck. Oh boy, how that needs to get powerwashed out after all this. They'll deal with it eventually.
Viktor stands with an arm around Jayce already, before hooking his other beneath the man's thighs. He's spindly, but this form has what Viktor can only describe as super strength. It feels... strangely trivial to lift Jayce up from the truck, though he does with absolute care. If the man fell to pieces in his hold, would Viktor be all that surprised? Not really, much as he hopes that will never happen... again...
The joke is best kept to himself, yeah, Viktor might have laughed and then cried and then laughed at this point. He has Jayce held up and in his arms soon enough, letting him get adjusted to the embrace before Viktor starts trying to walk with him. Checking in,]
[ oh— he's getting lifted. and, oh. there go his legs. viktor is strong. that's— incredible, but also? there's been an Awakening. jayce may be undead but he's not dead dead. messy and bloody, he's being carried by his eight foot tall partner in science and soul. all he could think is "wow" as his dormant stomach still does these tingly flips. the only thing he's failing to feel is warm and flushed at the cheeks, but that isn't a deal breaker. for him.
before he could think of what to say, he's already blurting it. ]
I could get used to the view. [ here was jayce talis: chest literally bare, ribs practically splayed, the anomaly disfiguring him to a frightful point, and he's . . . smiling at viktor with a telling, lopsided little grin. his gold and prismatic eyes are unabashedly gooey and not looking away from viktor's face. ] It's a nice one.
[ it takes death to realize you only live once and they cheated it. he's living twice. of course he's flirting.
[The response is such an interruption upon Viktor's stormy thoughts. His worries for Jayce are so consuming and then the man speaks so softly to him. Not in complaint or grit tooth pain, but with affection. With praise and compliment, despite everything Viktor's done...
He wobbles his head lightly in place, before cracking the slightest smile. Careful with each step as he heads them both towards the Convoy, knowing that this is the easiest way to get Jayce their safely. Throwing him into a truck would only be a bumpy ride and Viktor won't let the man leave his arms for that long, not even as far as a passenger side seat. Time and patience in walking to their destination, together.
Viktor offers back,]
Even though I'm a mess. [not a question, just a statement, in a bit of a sing-songy way he got when teasing Jayce a bit. At least you didn't throw up type tone.
He is Jayce's mess and the man is his. There's no separating them, now.]
[ a mess, he says— jayce barks a wet laugh, curt and rolling his head to the herald's chesg to rest his temple against theheat of his metal collar. ]
If you're a mess, I'm a disaster.
[ they could clean him up. no showers, but a sponge could work. jayce could talk to arcade about the fluid build up later, maybe get that out so talking isn't so . . . hacked up and bubbly. after wrapping up his chest so he doesn't have to look at it, or risk the danger of doing so. not that it was dangerous, but jayce does not want to look at that.
he needed rest. jayce needed to sleep for hours. viktor might just have to get used to his lack of breathing when he actually falls asleep— perhaps what matters most is how his gifted heart keeps beating regardless, soft and unhurried: the single thing that separates jayce from being an actual dead corpse curled on the mattress. ]
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[Viktor huffs, trying to maintain some strict composure. Some sanity, amidst the madness of the situation. He thumbs across Jayce's cheekbone, his pulse point, tilts his head to look down into his exposed chest. Viktor can become... complete desensitized to the gore of the sight. It's shot the moon into fascination. Watching what was once his own heart working in pulses. Fighting for the man's very life. That's all Viktor could ask for it to accomplish.]
Your heart rate is very low, but mine was never that strong.
no subject
jayce sets a grimy hand over viktor's when he catches him taking smack about the most gracious thing he's given him.
It doesn't need to be perfect when it was always enough, Viktor.
[ in more ways than just keeping jayce physically alive. the depth of having his partner's heart in his chest, thumping slowly and keeping him . . . alive, giving him his blood— he doesn't know where to begin with repaying this. he does, actually. it starts with living. ]
Should I try to move?
no subject
[If his heart cannot keep Jayce going, then that's the last end of them both. It has to work. It has to. There is no other choice, for either of them. And they clearly cannot go on without each other. Neither can bare it.]
If you have the strength, try to sit up. I'll catch you if you can't yet.
[Yet. Being hopeful that it will be possible soon enough...]
no subject
[ he doesn't know until what point he could, but only trying would get him to any point of possibility. jayce waits for only a few self encouraging moments to anchor his hands wherever he could— viktor himself, grips within the cargo bed, anything he could flex his stiff fingers on, before it's a sharp breath in for him, one that shifts the bones of his right rib, oh that feels—
ignore the creak, ignore the little pops of bone moving— jayce forces his arms to contract and hoist his upper half up. it does not go without his grunts, turning into snarls as if that would intimidate his limbs to move the way he needed them to. with locked jaws and a trembling grip, jayce manages.
it's— strange. he's not tired, in the sense that he otherwise would be. he does not need to huff for air. it's more a sensation of . . . fighting to get the controls working. coordination. rest, he'd realize would be a good idea later. ]
I don't know, [ the aches drum like a faraway migraine. not so awful that he couldn't tolerate it, not so quiet that he couldn't feel it there, reminding him of his limits. ] how much more I could do.
no subject
[Viktor doesn't want to force anything on Jayce, not anything more than he already has. He knows this is a terrible state to be in, that it is Viktor's fault for not being able to let the man go. Something they share, it was just Viktor's turn this time. That Jayce is immediately so forgiving, so glad to be alive despite the pain and terror of the situation, is what's holding Viktor together.
He'll begin to pull away the tubes connecting them. Jayce seems stable enough with the flow of shimmer cut. Once they're separated, Viktor isn't going anywhere,]
I'll carry you back to the Convoy, if that's alright... [a bit late to be asking permission for things, but Viktor can try to be better on that front. He knows well the resentment that can form when one is being too coddled or too neglected.]
no subject
[ try. all he needs is to try. see where he stands in all this to better test out later, when enough time has passed for them to try again, or, try something else. try more. with viktor here, jayce clings onto his metallic framework once he's got his legs hanging off the cargo bed. he starts with sliding his supposedly good leg on the floor, toes first, slowly, steady—
the second he tries to put weight on it his knee gives away like thin twigs. if he hadn't been holding his partner, he'd be down, and even then strength of his grip wouldn't hold him up for long. ]
—Y-yeah, okay.
[ at least— he's not embarrassed by that. let's just not do that by the scruff, which he has half the mind to joke about in the grime of this, but—
you know, maybe that's too insensitive. he won't. ]
no subject
[No need to rush, recovery doesn't ever cooperate with that. It needs time and patience. Something Viktor had very little of, but he will try and provide it to Jayce. They won't let this beat them.]
Tell me if it's too harsh. My holding you. [It is not like Viktor has ever done this before. Even if he was healthier, he wouldn't have had the build to be picking up other men. Especially not anybody Jayce's height and musculature. Supporting Jayce, he gets the tubing removed between them so nothing is going to tangle them up and cause problems. Those can drain the rest of the way in the back of Jayce's truck. Oh boy, how that needs to get powerwashed out after all this. They'll deal with it eventually.
Viktor stands with an arm around Jayce already, before hooking his other beneath the man's thighs. He's spindly, but this form has what Viktor can only describe as super strength. It feels... strangely trivial to lift Jayce up from the truck, though he does with absolute care. If the man fell to pieces in his hold, would Viktor be all that surprised? Not really, much as he hopes that will never happen... again...
The joke is best kept to himself, yeah, Viktor might have laughed and then cried and then laughed at this point. He has Jayce held up and in his arms soon enough, letting him get adjusted to the embrace before Viktor starts trying to walk with him. Checking in,]
How is this? Bearable?
no subject
before he could think of what to say, he's already blurting it. ]
I could get used to the view. [ here was jayce talis: chest literally bare, ribs practically splayed, the anomaly disfiguring him to a frightful point, and he's . . . smiling at viktor with a telling, lopsided little grin. his gold and prismatic eyes are unabashedly gooey and not looking away from viktor's face. ] It's a nice one.
[ it takes death to realize you only live once and they cheated it. he's living twice. of course he's flirting.
being handled is quite . . . enthralling. ]
no subject
He wobbles his head lightly in place, before cracking the slightest smile. Careful with each step as he heads them both towards the Convoy, knowing that this is the easiest way to get Jayce their safely. Throwing him into a truck would only be a bumpy ride and Viktor won't let the man leave his arms for that long, not even as far as a passenger side seat. Time and patience in walking to their destination, together.
Viktor offers back,]
Even though I'm a mess. [not a question, just a statement, in a bit of a sing-songy way he got when teasing Jayce a bit. At least you didn't throw up type tone.
He is Jayce's mess and the man is his. There's no separating them, now.]
no subject
If you're a mess, I'm a disaster.
[ they could clean him up. no showers, but a sponge could work. jayce could talk to arcade about the fluid build up later, maybe get that out so talking isn't so . . . hacked up and bubbly. after wrapping up his chest so he doesn't have to look at it, or risk the danger of doing so. not that it was dangerous, but jayce does not want to look at that.
he needed rest. jayce needed to sleep for hours. viktor might just have to get used to his lack of breathing when he actually falls asleep— perhaps what matters most is how his gifted heart keeps beating regardless, soft and unhurried: the single thing that separates jayce from being an actual dead corpse curled on the mattress. ]