[ with a few disbelieving blinks, jayce's palm hovers over the upper half of his face to indeed discover a bronze domino mask he had never put on. okay. he doesn't remember doing that, but now that he's accutely aware of it, taking it off is strangely not something he wishes to do. does he question that either? not right now he doesn't, but does he think it's off the walls strange? by a considerable margin. one can tell in the way his thick brows crease.
it's true for the both of them, but only now does jayce's brain bother to register that viktor too, was wearing a mask that wasn't exactly his from before (even if it was an echo of it), when his tissue was of purple matter and metal destinction, assymetrical gold. a godly form and cold, unfeeling eyes that glowed like flared iron behind a mask that split his delicate face in two. he's kind of glad it isn't the case, but— how much of that matters when viktor looks like he may burst into a flurry at any moment? jayce, too. but his senses and logic feel blurred. are blurred. like he wasn't in his own damn body for some reason, which, what the hell—
there are more important things to worry about. he has no coat to speak for, nothing to help viktor cover up as he would've gladly stripped out of his battlecoat for. ]
Makes two of us, I think, [ empty humor, he supposes, doesn't really know what he's saying, stupidly— the best he could do is fix the remains of his . . . blanket, unfurling the cuff of viktor's neck to a fall around his thin shoulders. covering up his chest, his midsection, forcing his eyes up to his face and lingers on the mole above his lip. under his eye. then his eyes, iridescent pools. alive, jittering. full. a swell of relief comes to steal his inhale away from his lungs, but it seizes when he realizes viktor is still miraculously unharmed. hell. how much of this was real? was he real? ] I'll help you up.
[ jayce offers, palms up; they needed to check their surroundings and he was not keen on leaving viktor behind. they'll figure the rest out as they go. ]
no subject
it's true for the both of them, but only now does jayce's brain bother to register that viktor too, was wearing a mask that wasn't exactly his from before (even if it was an echo of it), when his tissue was of purple matter and metal destinction, assymetrical gold. a godly form and cold, unfeeling eyes that glowed like flared iron behind a mask that split his delicate face in two. he's kind of glad it isn't the case, but— how much of that matters when viktor looks like he may burst into a flurry at any moment? jayce, too. but his senses and logic feel blurred. are blurred. like he wasn't in his own damn body for some reason, which, what the hell—
there are more important things to worry about. he has no coat to speak for, nothing to help viktor cover up as he would've gladly stripped out of his battlecoat for. ]
Makes two of us, I think, [ empty humor, he supposes, doesn't really know what he's saying, stupidly— the best he could do is fix the remains of his . . . blanket, unfurling the cuff of viktor's neck to a fall around his thin shoulders. covering up his chest, his midsection, forcing his eyes up to his face and lingers on the mole above his lip. under his eye. then his eyes, iridescent pools. alive, jittering. full. a swell of relief comes to steal his inhale away from his lungs, but it seizes when he realizes viktor is still miraculously unharmed. hell. how much of this was real? was he real? ] I'll help you up.
[ jayce offers, palms up; they needed to check their surroundings and he was not keen on leaving viktor behind. they'll figure the rest out as they go. ]