[ generators? he mumbles through hulking steps, more than relieved to be met with a bench in their sights that will alleviate the pressure in their disabled legs— for jayce, a bit more where the rest of his aches are concerned. he would've said a little more to busy them, dry humor in the bite of a you and i both, but jayce needs to catch his breath and his bearings. his vision threatens to swim once he's sat, lightheadedness finally catching up to him from extertion.
it was unfamiliar and familiar all at once. jayce was always as healthy as a horse, hardy and robust enough to work the forge with his bare hands, resilient enough to climb from the depths of zaun to the ruins of piltover. the only other time his health had been abysmal was in the face of gritty infection, and these symptoms feel like an eerily excessive rebound.
jayce turns his braced leg so that his ankle nearly faces the ground, the clinks and squeaks of metal following like a shadow. ]
It's great, [ viktor's personal touch to the repairs are made with precise care, reenforcing weak its slots and complimenting where jayce's genius had lacked. ] we've always built better things together than apart. [ he pauses, only to inhale, shallow, ] And the medicine is helping. Thanks.
[ it wasn't helping as much as they needed it to, but beggars didn't exactly have the luxury to choose. ]
["It's great," Viktor absolutely doubts that, but that's Jayce's optimism speaking. It's the best they could do, it's serviceable, it's not great... that's Viktor's realism speaking.
His eyes soften from those thoughts at the mention of the medicine. Viktor tanked a burn from the shrines to retrieve the man some antibiotic painkillers.
He also didn't tell Jayce as much, once again covering his wounds to save the man feeling guilty for what Viktor chose to do...]
We have... and I am glad for that. [simple as that, for both the brace and the medicine. It might just be a placebo, but there's value in feeling better regardless of it being a trick of the mind or not.]
There should be enough to outlast your infection. You're taking them with food? [Viktor knows how finicky staying on top of med and maintaining an appetite is. Jayce seems to... always be hungry now, which is the opposite of Viktor. Still, he asks because he cares, it feels like something he can advise the other man on.]
[ jayce nods; even now, before they'd left for the tower he'd eaten, but . . . it's as if he hadn't eaten a thing. he's horribly hungry, and the thought of another meal pinches his brows and squeezes his stomach uncomfortably, enough that his hand hovers over his abdomen and settles there to hopefully just— rub the burning hole away. it's dangerously maddening. the satisfaction of filling his mouth and swallowing was fickle and short lived . . . it'd never be enduring. ]
Should I take it before? I don't . . . Feel like I'm absorbing much of the food.
[ maybe that'll make the drugs hit harder. he's no doctor, organic territory was a little . . . far from his expertise, but he was capable of basic understanding. especially when it was something viktor had dipped his studies a little more into. ]
[Viktor only knows as much as he learned to take care of his own health and from... a certain undercity doctor he won't mention. They're both so much better with machines and crystals than with people.]
With is best. It helps to absorb together. I'll try to find you more, if I can.
[his attention moves back to the screen displaying the message on loop. It's dated far back, so Viktor doesn't think it serves any immediate or present danger-
"“Attention, this is an emergency broadcast. Seek shelter immediately. A moon warp is imminent. Repeat, a Moon Warp is imminent. Impact: falling moon shards will cause destruction and distortions. Prepare by seeking cover inside shields. Those caught outside will be twisted. Seek shelter immediately.”"
-only for there to be a deafening smash of a moon shard landing outside the cabin. So much for his presumptions.]
[ jayce has been considering something, some words rolling on his tongue with an insistent wondering until he cannot seem to bite back at it anymore. where did you get it again? he wants to ask. he has this nag at the bottom of his neck that gnaws like a dog on a bone. his right wrist still burns with words, covered by a sleeve that he'd likely shared, but . . .
by the time parts his lips to ask once again, he's interrupted.
heavily interrupted. the radio tower lifts up a tremor that rattles the building's framework. the bright hues of the impact outside is both deadly and beautiful. ]
Viktor—
[ the first thing jayce doesn't even think to do is shield viktor with the only remaining energy he had. it's the one thing he couldn't do when they shared spaces in the council room. the last thing he needs for his psyche is a repeat of his past failures, no matter the amount of damage that was fated for them. ]
[The impact startles Viktor much that same as it does Jayce, their reactions matching too well. When he moves to protect Jayce in turn, Viktor simply ends up smashing his forehead into the other man's with a resonant crack of skulls. That sounds about as loud as the noise of the moonfall smashing outside.
One arm is wrapped around Jayce and the other reaches to press the flat of his fingers to the poor man's forehead. His own eyes are wild with concern to make sure Jayce is alright,]
Sorry- Are you alright-? Good gods, you're so cold... [as is the air around them, the moonwarp expanding outward and consuming the space beyond the convoy. They really shouldn't have left the safety of it- damned again but their shared, unending curiosity,]
[ oh, that made an uncomfy sound in his ears, makes his brain squirm with awful reminders of bone on bone action (not the sexy kind) as his head jostles back. he miraculously keeps his balance on legs because there're still both the base of the bench and viktor to grab onto. jayce is sure to keep his support on his right leg, at least; that way, they weren't void of more foundation (the more the better until they were secure).
the pressure of slender fingers chases the burn away, but at least to jayce it wasn't all that painful— too many aches in other places to the point that this one hadn't exactly hit the same threshold. it's just another part of him that throbs (still not sexy). the palm of jayce's clammy hand curves over viktor's forehead to do the same, although there was a chilling shake to his limb. indeed, he was cold— and he hated it. it wasn't the kind of cold that was on the outside, that he could fix with soup or a furnace. it was all on him, even if he wore another jacket or sweater he'd still be shivering in his cold sweat and paleness. ]
I will be, [ his gaze diverts from meeting viktor's, too close for that— ] I-It's another chill—
[ another round that would surely go away, soon. what was worse was that he couldn't even address it, immediately. not with what just happened outside. ]
We should . . . Wait a bit. If we can help it.
[ he didn't have his hammer. he wasn't fit for a fight in the slightest. and dying here—
he couldn't let that happen to either of them, but especially viktor. ]
[Viktor's eyes grow shaky and his pupils narrow as he tries to suppress panic.]
Don't you hear it? That- buzzing-?
[No, there's nothing like that for Jayce to hear. It's in Viktor's head, it's in his spinal fluid and rattling around his mind. A resonance that hits his tailbone and makes him gasp and lurch forward, into Jayce's chest. His hands bundle into the man's clothing so much they shake, before he grits his teeth and pushes himself away.
His gloved hands sparks beneath the glove he's wearing and his pushes it to his own forehead, as if that will sooth something inside him. It does not. He speaks through the grinding of his jaw,]
[ there is no buzzing. at least not for him. jayce's slightly parted lips and startled eyes grow wider as he secures viktor onto him, until his partner thinks it better to shove off of him. jayce does not fight against the protest, at least not yet, his larger arms coming loosely undone in a swing when viktor thrusts himself away. he doesn't want to keep him where he wouldn't want to be, but . . .
something isn't right. jayce hovers around his partner, his breathing beginning to lift his shoulders. whatever was happening, adrenaline was about to start pumping— and maybe then would he have the strength to lift viktor into his arms and run. just the reminder of his dash to the lab makes his stomach drop to the point of nausea. ]
No, not without you— Viktor, [ he calls him to ground him; if he were to fall, jayce would hold him, if anything were to happen to him— ] What're you feeling?
It's rattling- it's beneath my skin- [Viktor gasps, trying to answer Jayce's inquiries and maintain some coherence. He feels his hand shaking and he lifts it to his mouth, catches the glove between his teeth, and wrenches it away to see. The hexcorification is spreading, it's creeping down his arm, up his sleeve, following the track of his veins.
Feels like Viktor's blood is moving backwards, the course changed. Pain and addictive power fill him. Just like Shimmer-]
I said go-! [Viktor yells at his partner, with spit and snarl. His leg gives out, the metal of it too heavy even for the brace to handle, sheering the bolts. Viktor goes down onto that knee and he feels his body steaming. He's boiling, overheating like some kind of overworked machine. His hand reach for his vest and shirt and pull at the fronts, desperate to remove them. The anchors on his back feel like exhaust pipes, clogged from layers of cloth. His spine writhes like it might separate from him.
[ jayce barks his words in return, but rather than angry, he just sounds as desperate as he looks as he watches the hexcore's touch eat up what remained of viktor's human skin. that— that's not supposed to happen, none of this is supposed to happen—
he's not supposed to be whithering away, either.
when viktor drops, it's the last straw for jayce. he drops with him, whincing painfully as his own knee takes the brunt of his fall, hooking both arms under viktor's to help secure him before shuffling his legs in a way where they could kick out and handle having viktor in his arms. he doesn't keep put as he does this; jayce moves a hand to viktor's favor while one has him bound under the shoulders, prying his shirt away with the same desperation, quickening his breathing and his words: ]
I've always left you when you needed me most— I'm never, doing that again— [ he promised. he promised so many things within a singular, encompassing vow that he would not fail viktor again. but the more he tries to help, ] I'm right here, I-I'm—
[ he doesn't know what to do. he doesn't know what's happening—]
[Viktor pries his vest and shirt free, having just enough time to shrug the fabric off each arm before his hexcorified arm goes completely limp on him. It makes a noise like powering down and Viktor slacks to that side from the sheer dead weight of it. Jayce has leaned down to hold onto him and Viktor would fall over if not for that. For no reason other than distress, he pounds the outer ball of a bundled fist against Jayce's chest. His working arm is clearly too weak for it to hurt in the least bit.
Maybe there's some anger in the two hits he can manage before losing even that much strength, jumbled up in the agony and Viktor's terrible stubbornness.]
I didn't- need you..! I needed- to save myself..!
[Needs and wants are terrible things. Viktor hated needing help, he tried to do everything, including believe in himself more than anybody else could. Needing Jayce was a weakness he had to overcome- better to just want him-
This isn't the time to be thinking about this. Viktor pushes his face into Jayce's collar, his fist unbundling to grab at the man's back. He's cold. It's the only relief Viktor can find, burning up beneath his skin, buzzing with energy as his skin morphs to hexcorize across his chest and back. It devours the brace and melds it into his ribcage with purple and gold inlay.
The changes get to his back, metal crawling beneath his spine. He feels the joints fuse and go rigid in places. Anchor points turn into swivels. The flesh melts and peels away with a release of steam. His tailbone separates from where it was embedded, the top opening into three prongs. The rest of his spinal column lifts upward, attached to Viktor between his shoulder blades. Metal fills in the empty space it leaves. The third arm jitters and convulses without purpose,
Viktor sighs in relief, like that was somehow a purging experience and he's feeling better.]
[ how it makes jayce's heart ache to hear that. not because he wasn't needed, but perhaps what viktor desperately needed above everything else— and what jayce would follow blindedly with. he already had, in fact. keep viktor alive. save him no matter the cost—
the cost was great and yet jayce couldn't ever do it differently. he could never let him go, would think night after night that he should be the one in his place and not the other way around.
(but the universe conspires in a funny way, doesn't it?)
even now jayce cannot fathom what he'd do if viktor expired in his arms right then and there. he could hear the broken voices from time to time, beckoning the fractures filled in deepest crevices of his mind to a juttering maddness only he would know. the kind he'd hear at night and what would keep him awake, the kind he'd ask to, please, just talk to him— because there was something wrong about him now.
but there is little to nothing that jayce could do to actually make it stop. he can't, but he's holding viktor in his arms anyway, over his legs for cushioning, absorb his fists (he thinks he does deserve them, in part)— viktor's face dips into his collar and jayce's hand cups the back of his skull to pull him in further into the curve of his icy neck, the coil across his broad back only serving to urge his hold on viktor's, squeezing him as tightly as he could manage. his strange hypothermia could be of some use to cool the lava-hot ripples pouring from viktor's hexcorization— in the same way viktor's heat brings jayce his own twisted relief and symbiosis that he tries not to think about. the heat warms his bones for once.
he hugs viktor in a way he'd wished for quite a while, hunched into him and nestled neck to neck, clinging as if his blunt, oversized fingers could pry the discomfort away from him. there is something in viktor's spine, he sees it swelling under skin and clattering through inorganic matter— ]
I've got you, I—
[ an ugly crack interrupts. jayce does not know how to describe what he sees as a third arm emerges from the lower slot of his spine. the sound and sight are sickening. it jostles jayce into a trembling, quietly gasping shock. since then, he hasn't let go of viktor and doesn't think he will, his now stinging, wet eyes losing focus.
maybe this was just another nightmare. jayce talks in whispers, but it's hardly anything comprehensible. ]
[With his spine freed, reincorporated into him in a new evolution, Viktor's body is suddenly unbound. No longer contained by such a restraint on itself. His skin continues to pulse, overtaken all across and beneath his remaining clothing by the shimmer purple metal. It isn't done shifting, hasn't been fully forged yet. Jayce will recognize the sound of metal creaking and expanding, changing shape.
Viktor's head is slumped at his shoulder, breathless because he suddenly feels no need to breathe at all. A blissful sensation, to him, to have something so arduous for him removed entirely. No longer burdening him. He doesn't know how he manages speaks without air to do so, but he can. There is a buzzing vocal fry overtop his usual accent, though he still has such a soft tone,]
Don't worry- Jayce... [this is THE MOST worrisome scenario possible, but sure, Vik........]
I've never felt... better... [the high has settled in, Viktor thinks, a byproduct of the shimmer. What most people would take it for. To feel powerful, to break through their limits. That's all this is. His limbs lengthen and a new spine forms where the old, fragile one was. Extends out in an arch, Viktor remaining hunched around Jayce despite growing several feet taller.
He's becoming his best self.
Viktor's hands fall over each side of Jayce's shoulders, scaled as proportionally large now to Jayce as Jayce's hand usually fell over Viktor's slim sides. He leans in and of all, inappropriate time and place, it's a near thing to kissing the other man. Instead, Viktor presses his forehead to Jayce's.
It only lasts a moment. A rift forms and his face splits, peels to each side, and is overtaken by a flat mask. The eyes light up, staring back at him with an unreadable expression.]
[ viktor grows and grows, much bigger than the frame that's trying to hold him together like a porcelain doll falling apart, except . . . he was being put together.
his partner leans in, twists just a touch, the pressure of their foreheads pushing together spurrs a leap in jayce's rattling heart, that he thinks it is a response, at last, to words quietly confessed some weeks ago and never spoken of again. he is desperate with fear, that viktor would evaporate from his hold forever, that he'd never know how much . . . he meant to him. how the world outside could be falling apart and the only one who'd really matter over them all was viktor. he'd choose viktor. he'd choose to bring humanity to the brink again, and again, and once more, if it meant he'd have a life with viktor.
jayce does not hesitate; he does not waste the time he has after doing so for so long. hand to the back of his head, the space between their mouths splice and jayce crumbles into the kiss he places on viktor's spluttering lips. for a moment, just a moment, where it felt like sparks could've popped off like explosives—
instead, the sickening snap of viktor's face splintering apart is what startles him back. this wasn't supposed to happen. he still cannot think, cannot parse how anything could be alright when it felt like this world had torn away from him the one thing that was still keeping him together.
jayce croaks as he stares back at two remote golden spheres, adjacent to closed, sleeping eyes he felt he'd never see open again. stuck, in time. time he'd wish could loop back. he could only feel his lips puff together with a tightness as he strangles hot tears that come sliding down lukewarm cheeks, skin that would just go cold again, soon.
he feels like he's being hollowed out, iced from the inside, and can't look up anymore. ]
[The last thing Viktor really feels is Jayce's lips pressing to his. IIcy cold against overheated. Practically sizzling from contrast, sparking, before they're split from each other. Sensation dulls at that. Not gone completely, but crushed down and smothered.
Viktor is so densely packed within his own body, nerves and tissues all condensed into a core somewhere inside his chest. No longer within his own head, every end of him more like a piece of a marionette to be puppeteered by his command,
He has no mouth capable of screaming, of speech. Eyes that do not blink, have unbroken focus. Jayce is so close, Viktor can see his horror and dismay in full clarity, yet there's no mustering the same emotions in turn. The man was clearly robbed of a brief glimpse at happiness. Even with his emotions stomped down to their lowest of lows, there is a twisting of Viktor's own yearning into a more rational motivation.
Logically, it would be an inconvenience if Jayce became dead weight, whether from despair or shock. That should be avoided.
The answer to Jayce's adverse reaction is a poor excuse for an attempt to sooth him. Something the Herald is truly no better at offering than Viktor might be in his right mind.
The third arm twists and cranes forward, latches ingraciously to the back of Jayce's hair to lift his head back upward where he looked down. Meet the unyielding eyes of the Herald again. The creature leans forward, mirroring Jayce's earlier action as best he can. The flat front of the mask nudges to Jayce's mouth, presses awkwardly against and past lips to bump into the front of the man's teeth.
An unfeeling attempt at reciprocating that so desired kiss. That should calm him down, right? Simple cause and effect, wanting and receiving.]
[ startled by the pull, jayce gasps, yelps through locked teeth and is forced to stare at the disquieting glow of the creature's gaze. for a split moment, fear courses through him, his hands shooting to the claw on his shaggy hair to fruitlessly paw at, grip, at the very least to keep it from squeezing anymore than it already was. his breathing picks up, he anticipates danger, but . . . he's even more stunned into unmoving tension when the masked herald mirrors his earlier attempt. a stiff and inept excuse for it. maybe—
he tries again, out of desperation, out of sheer heartache and perhaps an inkling of useless hope that somewhere in there, viktor really was trying to reciprocate. just as awkwardly, jayce . . . tries, pressing his lips and bumping his teeth to sweltering metal, but it immediately falls flat and plummets his heart into a pit of loneliness as cold as zaun's noxious crevices. so terribly flat, and it's not even because there are no lips there, because god if it was still viktor, careful and kind, sharp tongued, awkward and calculating, jayce would find a way. he'd gladly be the only one doing any kissing if there had been genuine encouragement along his back, his limbs, anywhere that he would imagine late at night and dream of how their first kiss would be. the problem lied in there being no reciprocation. it was too calculating. no heart. he is not being cradled, with sentiment that felt the same. he's literally being grappled by the back of his head like a scruffed pup. he's being conducted to a cause for an effect.
jayce suddenly wishes he were in danger instead of this. he would've preferred to be attacked and physically mauled, laser beamed, eaten— than to have his heart torn to shreds. he is a formula being cracked, a problem being solved. he doesn't . . . mean anything, anymore. not the way jayce wanted to be, anyway. he forcefully turns his head away and wedges an arm between them, feeling— so many things at once that he could only feel listless. did he fail, just now? did . . . he lose everything? was that why he was dying? would this make accepting death easier?
he has no purpose anymore. death might as well come faster. ]
S— [ he sputters, croaks just like the clicking of his brace trying to connect gears into place and secure an angle. jayce's heart is already cracked and falling apart, but he asks, perhaps, to keep whatever remained of his psyche for long enough to just return to his truck and wait for death to come. if there was anything left. ] Say something.
[Every interplay of their temperatures is flipped and backwards. Jayce, full of desperate warmth and passion, while his body is an icy corpse. Viktor, metallic form practically steaming with the excess energy of so much change so rapidly, while his emotions are completely frigid. The pair clash in every way there is.
Their kiss is a meaningless display of mismatch parts. An engine too inert for a combustion spark to fuel it. He lurches away from the gesture as Jayce shoves an arm between them, though the man isn't being let go from the hold on him.
The Herald is Viktor, the way he imagines himself as ideal. Strong, logical, and of use. His mind holds only a single motivation, narrow focused and precision made. He is a tool fit for a specific function. He answers, his voice not resonating out from his face, but from the claw grasped at the back of Jayce's head still. It will rattle in the man's skull as a result. Viktor's voice, but thoroughly vocal fried as if being filtered through a beehive,]
I promised to protect you.
[his legs move, get one foot beneath him and then leverages upward to stand. Viktor's new form is massively tall, would tower over Jayce by well over a foot if, well, he didn't pull Jayce up with him. The Herald is hoisting the man over a shoulder like a sack of potatoes. (About as romantic as their kiss...)]
[ it's hard- no, impossible, for jayce to fight back; he has no strength to, it's barely enough to get a grip, even less for him to pull himself up— so it's there that he hangs: useless, wrecked, and despondent. he'd never be able to get out of there with his leg in the situation it was in, feeling brittle even with no weight but the pull of gravity.
his head feels like it could crack open as he shudders at words that bring a painful truth to his reality. he promised. he promised he wouldn't fail. he's failing. he has failed so terribly. ]
I—
[ i failed you. i'm so sorry. i'm sorry. i failed you— i'm sorry.
but not even that, he could bring himself to say outloud. he just wants it all to stop. ]
[The Herald answers, reaching with his free hand to take up the Talis forged crutch from the ground. A useful item. One that has served him well. It should not be left behind. There is no sentimentality in the gesture, only practical understanding. A sturdy weapon he could swing at any assailants who dare stand between Viktor and returning Jayce to the Convoy.
His mission and purpose, for now, driven now only by an indescribably instinct.]
I will prevent that. I will find a way, through any means necessary, to preserve you. That is my promise.
[ was this irony or punishment or both—? what does he even do? he's lost him, he can't see or feel viktor anymore, just a senseless husk that makes him spiral every time that puzzing voice rings the fractures of his mind encased in his skull like a bell. ]
P-Please, come back, Viktor—
[ he's begging. he needs him. without him, and without a path he could see to bring him back from the brink— jayce had done it all for nothing. and that is what he's feeling, right now.
a deep, harrowing hopelessness that was swallowing his will to survive one more day. viktor of the future was probably so indescribably disappointed in him. would he understand? would he hate him for this?
he mumbles, to himself as he cradles his own head: it's not my fault, this was an accident, we shouldn't be here, i promised, my promise, no, no i, failed, failure, i'm a, no . . . take me back, i want, to go back, i promised you— ]
I am right here. Don't you see? This is my best version.
[His hold on Jayce is secure, carrying him down the cabin steps three at a time, strides cracking the wood paneling beneath them. Viktor's tone is hollowed and empty, the only thing there is recognition devoid of awe. Pride without humanity. Speaking to an accomplishment, yet holding no elation and no dissatisfaction.
Speaking truth, without any meaning.]
Free of pain, free of emotion. My mind has full clarity, I am unclouded by weakness. I sought this.
[His pursuit has ended. This is all he could have hoped for, a version of himself that can complete his goals, unburdened by all that held him down in his life.]
[ if he's dying, if he's going to die soon— then he wants these to be his last words to him. not i'm sorry. not his fractured babbling. through his worn breathing, jayce musters up the energy, a last dance to cling, to twist his head, to do something— ]
You never needed to be perfect, Viktor.
[ would he hear him? would he be able to touch that concentrated core somewhere beneath that purple matter? if jayce has one last hope, it's this one, and he seizes it like a lifeline, like an angel pulling him out of the depths he was drowning in. if it's going to snap anyway, well . . .
at least it was telling him more. more than maybe he could've said, explained, at another time, another place. another life. he's not getting through the day and he's serving him his heart— with all of his own flaws. ]
—I- I loved you for every imperfection. They're what make you.
Your intellect has always been undercut by your sentimental passion, Jayce. You love deeper than you think.
[While Viktor... Viktor is free of such passions. Of his loves and hates. He has been purged of all the unnecessary clutter of human experience. The messiness, cleaned up and organized into objective truths. It is so blissful, to be free of so much complication, so many clashing wants and impractical concerns.
All he has now is a goal. A promise to keep, a commitment to uphold.
Jayce will live, because Viktor's purpose is wrapped too far up in their dream to ever be separated from him.
Being the Herald, he cannot comprehend why he has this as his purpose, it merely is. A fact, fixed and unable to be changed nor altered. It may as well have been programmed into him, his ordained function, the reason for this form.]
You will understand when given proof. I will demonstrate my worthiness. Free you of the burdens I have caused. This is progress.
[ jayce hung on until the last minute, but even with his heart divulged, finishing its rupture, only logic reverberates back to him. he doesn't want to argue about this— it's a struggle without end. if he pushes, jayce will always be met with pulls. he's already out of breath as is . . .
jayce feels the strain overcoming his features, the burn at the base of his nose burdening the muscles surrounding his mouth. where the herald holds him is where he hangs in silence— the occassional strangled sob may slip, but he says no more. ]
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no subject
it was unfamiliar and familiar all at once. jayce was always as healthy as a horse, hardy and robust enough to work the forge with his bare hands, resilient enough to climb from the depths of zaun to the ruins of piltover. the only other time his health had been abysmal was in the face of gritty infection, and these symptoms feel like an eerily excessive rebound.
jayce turns his braced leg so that his ankle nearly faces the ground, the clinks and squeaks of metal following like a shadow. ]
It's great, [ viktor's personal touch to the repairs are made with precise care, reenforcing weak its slots and complimenting where jayce's genius had lacked. ] we've always built better things together than apart. [ he pauses, only to inhale, shallow, ] And the medicine is helping. Thanks.
[ it wasn't helping as much as they needed it to, but beggars didn't exactly have the luxury to choose. ]
no subject
His eyes soften from those thoughts at the mention of the medicine. Viktor tanked a burn from the shrines to retrieve the man some antibiotic painkillers.
He also didn't tell Jayce as much, once again covering his wounds to save the man feeling guilty for what Viktor chose to do...]
We have... and I am glad for that. [simple as that, for both the brace and the medicine. It might just be a placebo, but there's value in feeling better regardless of it being a trick of the mind or not.]
There should be enough to outlast your infection. You're taking them with food? [Viktor knows how finicky staying on top of med and maintaining an appetite is. Jayce seems to... always be hungry now, which is the opposite of Viktor. Still, he asks because he cares, it feels like something he can advise the other man on.]
no subject
Should I take it before? I don't . . . Feel like I'm absorbing much of the food.
[ maybe that'll make the drugs hit harder. he's no doctor, organic territory was a little . . . far from his expertise, but he was capable of basic understanding. especially when it was something viktor had dipped his studies a little more into. ]
no subject
With is best. It helps to absorb together. I'll try to find you more, if I can.
[his attention moves back to the screen displaying the message on loop. It's dated far back, so Viktor doesn't think it serves any immediate or present danger-
"“Attention, this is an emergency broadcast. Seek shelter immediately. A moon warp is imminent. Repeat, a Moon Warp is imminent. Impact: falling moon shards will cause destruction and distortions. Prepare by seeking cover inside shields. Those caught outside will be twisted. Seek shelter immediately.”"
-only for there to be a deafening smash of a moon shard landing outside the cabin. So much for his presumptions.]
no subject
by the time parts his lips to ask once again, he's interrupted.
heavily interrupted. the radio tower lifts up a tremor that rattles the building's framework. the bright hues of the impact outside is both deadly and beautiful. ]
Viktor—
[ the first thing jayce doesn't even think to do is shield viktor with the only remaining energy he had. it's the one thing he couldn't do when they shared spaces in the council room. the last thing he needs for his psyche is a repeat of his past failures, no matter the amount of damage that was fated for them. ]
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One arm is wrapped around Jayce and the other reaches to press the flat of his fingers to the poor man's forehead. His own eyes are wild with concern to make sure Jayce is alright,]
Sorry- Are you alright-? Good gods, you're so cold... [as is the air around them, the moonwarp expanding outward and consuming the space beyond the convoy. They really shouldn't have left the safety of it- damned again but their shared, unending curiosity,]
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the pressure of slender fingers chases the burn away, but at least to jayce it wasn't all that painful— too many aches in other places to the point that this one hadn't exactly hit the same threshold. it's just another part of him that throbs (still not sexy). the palm of jayce's clammy hand curves over viktor's forehead to do the same, although there was a chilling shake to his limb. indeed, he was cold— and he hated it. it wasn't the kind of cold that was on the outside, that he could fix with soup or a furnace. it was all on him, even if he wore another jacket or sweater he'd still be shivering in his cold sweat and paleness. ]
I will be, [ his gaze diverts from meeting viktor's, too close for that— ] I-It's another chill—
[ another round that would surely go away, soon. what was worse was that he couldn't even address it, immediately. not with what just happened outside. ]
We should . . . Wait a bit. If we can help it.
[ he didn't have his hammer. he wasn't fit for a fight in the slightest. and dying here—
he couldn't let that happen to either of them, but especially viktor. ]
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[Viktor's eyes grow shaky and his pupils narrow as he tries to suppress panic.]
Don't you hear it? That- buzzing-?
[No, there's nothing like that for Jayce to hear. It's in Viktor's head, it's in his spinal fluid and rattling around his mind. A resonance that hits his tailbone and makes him gasp and lurch forward, into Jayce's chest. His hands bundle into the man's clothing so much they shake, before he grits his teeth and pushes himself away.
His gloved hands sparks beneath the glove he's wearing and his pushes it to his own forehead, as if that will sooth something inside him. It does not. He speaks through the grinding of his jaw,]
Jayce- Go back-
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something isn't right. jayce hovers around his partner, his breathing beginning to lift his shoulders. whatever was happening, adrenaline was about to start pumping— and maybe then would he have the strength to lift viktor into his arms and run. just the reminder of his dash to the lab makes his stomach drop to the point of nausea. ]
No, not without you— Viktor, [ he calls him to ground him; if he were to fall, jayce would hold him, if anything were to happen to him— ] What're you feeling?
cw: body horror time let's goooo
It's rattling- it's beneath my skin- [Viktor gasps, trying to answer Jayce's inquiries and maintain some coherence. He feels his hand shaking and he lifts it to his mouth, catches the glove between his teeth, and wrenches it away to see. The hexcorification is spreading, it's creeping down his arm, up his sleeve, following the track of his veins.
Feels like Viktor's blood is moving backwards, the course changed. Pain and addictive power fill him. Just like Shimmer-]
I said go-! [Viktor yells at his partner, with spit and snarl. His leg gives out, the metal of it too heavy even for the brace to handle, sheering the bolts. Viktor goes down onto that knee and he feels his body steaming. He's boiling, overheating like some kind of overworked machine. His hand reach for his vest and shirt and pull at the fronts, desperate to remove them. The anchors on his back feel like exhaust pipes, clogged from layers of cloth. His spine writhes like it might separate from him.
It will, soon enough.]
vibrating in my seat chanting Bug
[ jayce barks his words in return, but rather than angry, he just sounds as desperate as he looks as he watches the hexcore's touch eat up what remained of viktor's human skin. that— that's not supposed to happen, none of this is supposed to happen—
he's not supposed to be whithering away, either.
when viktor drops, it's the last straw for jayce. he drops with him, whincing painfully as his own knee takes the brunt of his fall, hooking both arms under viktor's to help secure him before shuffling his legs in a way where they could kick out and handle having viktor in his arms. he doesn't keep put as he does this; jayce moves a hand to viktor's favor while one has him bound under the shoulders, prying his shirt away with the same desperation, quickening his breathing and his words: ]
I've always left you when you needed me most— I'm never, doing that again— [ he promised. he promised so many things within a singular, encompassing vow that he would not fail viktor again. but the more he tries to help, ] I'm right here, I-I'm—
[ he doesn't know what to do. he doesn't know what's happening—]
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Maybe there's some anger in the two hits he can manage before losing even that much strength, jumbled up in the agony and Viktor's terrible stubbornness.]
I didn't- need you..! I needed- to save myself..!
[Needs and wants are terrible things. Viktor hated needing help, he tried to do everything, including believe in himself more than anybody else could. Needing Jayce was a weakness he had to overcome- better to just want him-
This isn't the time to be thinking about this. Viktor pushes his face into Jayce's collar, his fist unbundling to grab at the man's back. He's cold. It's the only relief Viktor can find, burning up beneath his skin, buzzing with energy as his skin morphs to hexcorize across his chest and back. It devours the brace and melds it into his ribcage with purple and gold inlay.
The changes get to his back, metal crawling beneath his spine. He feels the joints fuse and go rigid in places. Anchor points turn into swivels. The flesh melts and peels away with a release of steam. His tailbone separates from where it was embedded, the top opening into three prongs. The rest of his spinal column lifts upward, attached to Viktor between his shoulder blades. Metal fills in the empty space it leaves. The third arm jitters and convulses without purpose,
Viktor sighs in relief, like that was somehow a purging experience and he's feeling better.]
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the cost was great and yet jayce couldn't ever do it differently. he could never let him go, would think night after night that he should be the one in his place and not the other way around.
(but the universe conspires in a funny way, doesn't it?)
even now jayce cannot fathom what he'd do if viktor expired in his arms right then and there. he could hear the broken voices from time to time, beckoning the fractures filled in deepest crevices of his mind to a juttering maddness only he would know. the kind he'd hear at night and what would keep him awake, the kind he'd ask to, please, just talk to him— because there was something wrong about him now.
but there is little to nothing that jayce could do to actually make it stop. he can't, but he's holding viktor in his arms anyway, over his legs for cushioning, absorb his fists (he thinks he does deserve them, in part)— viktor's face dips into his collar and jayce's hand cups the back of his skull to pull him in further into the curve of his icy neck, the coil across his broad back only serving to urge his hold on viktor's, squeezing him as tightly as he could manage. his strange hypothermia could be of some use to cool the lava-hot ripples pouring from viktor's hexcorization— in the same way viktor's heat brings jayce his own twisted relief and symbiosis that he tries not to think about. the heat warms his bones for once.
he hugs viktor in a way he'd wished for quite a while, hunched into him and nestled neck to neck, clinging as if his blunt, oversized fingers could pry the discomfort away from him. there is something in viktor's spine, he sees it swelling under skin and clattering through inorganic matter— ]
I've got you, I—
[ an ugly crack interrupts. jayce does not know how to describe what he sees as a third arm emerges from the lower slot of his spine. the sound and sight are sickening. it jostles jayce into a trembling, quietly gasping shock. since then, he hasn't let go of viktor and doesn't think he will, his now stinging, wet eyes losing focus.
maybe this was just another nightmare. jayce talks in whispers, but it's hardly anything comprehensible. ]
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Viktor's head is slumped at his shoulder, breathless because he suddenly feels no need to breathe at all. A blissful sensation, to him, to have something so arduous for him removed entirely. No longer burdening him. He doesn't know how he manages speaks without air to do so, but he can. There is a buzzing vocal fry overtop his usual accent, though he still has such a soft tone,]
Don't worry- Jayce... [this is THE MOST worrisome scenario possible, but sure, Vik........]
I've never felt... better... [the high has settled in, Viktor thinks, a byproduct of the shimmer. What most people would take it for. To feel powerful, to break through their limits. That's all this is. His limbs lengthen and a new spine forms where the old, fragile one was. Extends out in an arch, Viktor remaining hunched around Jayce despite growing several feet taller.
He's becoming his best self.
Viktor's hands fall over each side of Jayce's shoulders, scaled as proportionally large now to Jayce as Jayce's hand usually fell over Viktor's slim sides. He leans in and of all, inappropriate time and place, it's a near thing to kissing the other man. Instead, Viktor presses his forehead to Jayce's.
It only lasts a moment. A rift forms and his face splits, peels to each side, and is overtaken by a flat mask. The eyes light up, staring back at him with an unreadable expression.]
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his partner leans in, twists just a touch, the pressure of their foreheads pushing together spurrs a leap in jayce's rattling heart, that he thinks it is a response, at last, to words quietly confessed some weeks ago and never spoken of again. he is desperate with fear, that viktor would evaporate from his hold forever, that he'd never know how much . . . he meant to him. how the world outside could be falling apart and the only one who'd really matter over them all was viktor. he'd choose viktor. he'd choose to bring humanity to the brink again, and again, and once more, if it meant he'd have a life with viktor.
jayce does not hesitate; he does not waste the time he has after doing so for so long. hand to the back of his head, the space between their mouths splice and jayce crumbles into the kiss he places on viktor's spluttering lips. for a moment, just a moment, where it felt like sparks could've popped off like explosives—
instead, the sickening snap of viktor's face splintering apart is what startles him back. this wasn't supposed to happen. he still cannot think, cannot parse how anything could be alright when it felt like this world had torn away from him the one thing that was still keeping him together.
jayce croaks as he stares back at two remote golden spheres, adjacent to closed, sleeping eyes he felt he'd never see open again. stuck, in time. time he'd wish could loop back. he could only feel his lips puff together with a tightness as he strangles hot tears that come sliding down lukewarm cheeks, skin that would just go cold again, soon.
he feels like he's being hollowed out, iced from the inside, and can't look up anymore. ]
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Viktor is so densely packed within his own body, nerves and tissues all condensed into a core somewhere inside his chest. No longer within his own head, every end of him more like a piece of a marionette to be puppeteered by his command,
He has no mouth capable of screaming, of speech. Eyes that do not blink, have unbroken focus. Jayce is so close, Viktor can see his horror and dismay in full clarity, yet there's no mustering the same emotions in turn. The man was clearly robbed of a brief glimpse at happiness. Even with his emotions stomped down to their lowest of lows, there is a twisting of Viktor's own yearning into a more rational motivation.
Logically, it would be an inconvenience if Jayce became dead weight, whether from despair or shock. That should be avoided.
The answer to Jayce's adverse reaction is a poor excuse for an attempt to sooth him. Something the Herald is truly no better at offering than Viktor might be in his right mind.
The third arm twists and cranes forward, latches ingraciously to the back of Jayce's hair to lift his head back upward where he looked down. Meet the unyielding eyes of the Herald again. The creature leans forward, mirroring Jayce's earlier action as best he can. The flat front of the mask nudges to Jayce's mouth, presses awkwardly against and past lips to bump into the front of the man's teeth.
An unfeeling attempt at reciprocating that so desired kiss. That should calm him down, right? Simple cause and effect, wanting and receiving.]
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he tries again, out of desperation, out of sheer heartache and perhaps an inkling of useless hope that somewhere in there, viktor really was trying to reciprocate. just as awkwardly, jayce . . . tries, pressing his lips and bumping his teeth to sweltering metal, but it immediately falls flat and plummets his heart into a pit of loneliness as cold as zaun's noxious crevices. so terribly flat, and it's not even because there are no lips there, because god if it was still viktor, careful and kind, sharp tongued, awkward and calculating, jayce would find a way. he'd gladly be the only one doing any kissing if there had been genuine encouragement along his back, his limbs, anywhere that he would imagine late at night and dream of how their first kiss would be. the problem lied in there being no reciprocation. it was too calculating. no heart. he is not being cradled, with sentiment that felt the same. he's literally being grappled by the back of his head like a scruffed pup. he's being conducted to a cause for an effect.
jayce suddenly wishes he were in danger instead of this. he would've preferred to be attacked and physically mauled, laser beamed, eaten— than to have his heart torn to shreds. he is a formula being cracked, a problem being solved. he doesn't . . . mean anything, anymore. not the way jayce wanted to be, anyway. he forcefully turns his head away and wedges an arm between them, feeling— so many things at once that he could only feel listless. did he fail, just now? did . . . he lose everything? was that why he was dying? would this make accepting death easier?
he has no purpose anymore. death might as well come faster. ]
S— [ he sputters, croaks just like the clicking of his brace trying to connect gears into place and secure an angle. jayce's heart is already cracked and falling apart, but he asks, perhaps, to keep whatever remained of his psyche for long enough to just return to his truck and wait for death to come. if there was anything left. ] Say something.
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Their kiss is a meaningless display of mismatch parts. An engine too inert for a combustion spark to fuel it. He lurches away from the gesture as Jayce shoves an arm between them, though the man isn't being let go from the hold on him.
The Herald is Viktor, the way he imagines himself as ideal. Strong, logical, and of use. His mind holds only a single motivation, narrow focused and precision made. He is a tool fit for a specific function. He answers, his voice not resonating out from his face, but from the claw grasped at the back of Jayce's head still. It will rattle in the man's skull as a result. Viktor's voice, but thoroughly vocal fried as if being filtered through a beehive,]
I promised to protect you.
[his legs move, get one foot beneath him and then leverages upward to stand. Viktor's new form is massively tall, would tower over Jayce by well over a foot if, well, he didn't pull Jayce up with him. The Herald is hoisting the man over a shoulder like a sack of potatoes. (About as romantic as their kiss...)]
I won't fail.
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his head feels like it could crack open as he shudders at words that bring a painful truth to his reality. he promised. he promised he wouldn't fail. he's failing. he has failed so terribly. ]
I—
[ i failed you. i'm so sorry. i'm sorry. i failed you— i'm sorry.
but not even that, he could bring himself to say outloud. he just wants it all to stop. ]
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[The Herald answers, reaching with his free hand to take up the Talis forged crutch from the ground. A useful item. One that has served him well. It should not be left behind. There is no sentimentality in the gesture, only practical understanding. A sturdy weapon he could swing at any assailants who dare stand between Viktor and returning Jayce to the Convoy.
His mission and purpose, for now, driven now only by an indescribably instinct.]
I will prevent that. I will find a way, through any means necessary, to preserve you. That is my promise.
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P-Please, come back, Viktor—
[ he's begging. he needs him. without him, and without a path he could see to bring him back from the brink— jayce had done it all for nothing. and that is what he's feeling, right now.
a deep, harrowing hopelessness that was swallowing his will to survive one more day. viktor of the future was probably so indescribably disappointed in him. would he understand? would he hate him for this?
he mumbles, to himself as he cradles his own head: it's not my fault, this was an accident, we shouldn't be here, i promised, my promise, no, no i, failed, failure, i'm a, no . . . take me back, i want, to go back, i promised you— ]
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[His hold on Jayce is secure, carrying him down the cabin steps three at a time, strides cracking the wood paneling beneath them. Viktor's tone is hollowed and empty, the only thing there is recognition devoid of awe. Pride without humanity. Speaking to an accomplishment, yet holding no elation and no dissatisfaction.
Speaking truth, without any meaning.]
Free of pain, free of emotion. My mind has full clarity, I am unclouded by weakness. I sought this.
[His pursuit has ended. This is all he could have hoped for, a version of himself that can complete his goals, unburdened by all that held him down in his life.]
I have achieved perfection.
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You never needed to be perfect, Viktor.
[ would he hear him? would he be able to touch that concentrated core somewhere beneath that purple matter? if jayce has one last hope, it's this one, and he seizes it like a lifeline, like an angel pulling him out of the depths he was drowning in. if it's going to snap anyway, well . . .
at least it was telling him more. more than maybe he could've said, explained, at another time, another place. another life. he's not getting through the day and he's serving him his heart— with all of his own flaws. ]
—I- I loved you for every imperfection. They're what make you.
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[While Viktor... Viktor is free of such passions. Of his loves and hates. He has been purged of all the unnecessary clutter of human experience. The messiness, cleaned up and organized into objective truths. It is so blissful, to be free of so much complication, so many clashing wants and impractical concerns.
All he has now is a goal. A promise to keep, a commitment to uphold.
Jayce will live, because Viktor's purpose is wrapped too far up in their dream to ever be separated from him.
Being the Herald, he cannot comprehend why he has this as his purpose, it merely is. A fact, fixed and unable to be changed nor altered. It may as well have been programmed into him, his ordained function, the reason for this form.]
You will understand when given proof. I will demonstrate my worthiness. Free you of the burdens I have caused. This is progress.
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jayce feels the strain overcoming his features, the burn at the base of his nose burdening the muscles surrounding his mouth. where the herald holds him is where he hangs in silence— the occassional strangled sob may slip, but he says no more. ]
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(2/2) cw: gross infection stuff and imminent character death
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cw: character death and dissection gore
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2/2 jayce is currently offline
AND WE'RE BACK
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