she picks at the sleeves of her dress. she doesn't say anything about the first part - she's a little unsure, but. no, it must have been. it had to have been.]
I told you. To keep us under control. [...] It's not a glamorous life. If we didn't have the collars, we'd try to escape. I've never wanted to...
[there's a pause, and a distant thought of something that doesn't quite sound like her voice. I hope you make it back to the light soon. maybe it sounds familiar.]
[He makes the pinched face which says he is not comprehending the desperate need for control which is so fucking funny coming from a dude who is desperately trying to control his fate.
OTHER PEOPLE, THOUGH... Throne would have loved Mel, wow.]
And it was you who told me--what was it? "You only have one life and you can live it however you want, there's no second try"? You are worth so much more on your own than living in the shadow of a family who doesn't know how to love you the way they should.
I know. [her fingers tap one, two, three at her pulse.] I told you that because I believe it. I want to be free. And I was in the process of earning that freedom right before I found myself here.
The collar requires a key. Father and Mother are the ones who carry them.
[maybe she doesn't quite believe she's worth more, but - she does believe in being selfish. she wants her freedom and she'll do whatever she has to in order to get it. there's a twinge of something affectionate, though - she appreciates that he's fighting so hard to tell her.]
[DON'T SAY THIS. His brain very clearly already starts becoming jumbled with scribbly thinking. He turns away from her, but only so he can carefully lie back on the bed from the edge.
He stares up at the dimly lit moon darkness.]
A normal key? A magical key? I can make a key... with some time. And the right tools.
[He tips his head back a tad to glance at her. Okay, well, he can't really say shit to that because (gestures at himself). Is he this frustrating? God.]
Which part, the collar, or the freedom? Because you still have a ways to go even if I got the collar off.
[this is so funny viktor like oh god do i sound like this]
...
[anyway, she doesn't argue because it's not like he's wrong, but she's not thinking about it. the first step is getting the collar off. then she can figure out what she does next. it doesn't even occur to her to think about the rest - she doesn't have a concept of what life will be like when she finally manages to run. the bad doesn't just go away.]
[HE REALLY IS LIKE DO I SOUND LIKE THIS. He understands, YET IT IS SO HARD NOT TO WANT TO HELPPP. God, he understands though. So he doesn't try to pressure her about giving up the autonomy anymore.]
I believe you can do it. I know you can.
[He looks at the ceiling again, quiet for a few moments.]
Just... make sure you don't do anything terrible to get there. Don't do anything you would regret. You can get there without that.
[there's a soft little burst of emotion when he says he believes she can. it's nice to have people believe in her. it's reassuring, for a person who hasn't had it until very recently.
she looks at him again, for a good moment.]
Things that are terrible and things that I regret aren't always two separate things. [she tells him, soft.] ... Luke said the same thing to me. That I can get through it doing the right thing.
That's naive. [a beat.] I won't do anything I will regret.
[FIRST OF ALL. My Throne/Luke NOOOOOOOOOO. GRITS MY TEETH. ANYWAY.]
You won't know you regret it until after it's done. You won't know in that moment because... that's all you can see. The end, the answer. It's right there, just in reach. You won't think about anything but getting a hold of it.
[There is no way in hell someone like Throné is careful, but he will be nice and not point that out.
One wilding MF to another.
He does not look at her (on purpose, shamed, guilty), but at the ceiling instead.]
I do.
[He does not say anything else or do anything for a long moment, but then he lifts his right arm above him. He pulls off thr glove by the fingers.
From wrist to whole hand, the skin seems to have vanished, replaced by deep and mottled purple muscle with glossy lines threaded within. Like it might glow if given the opportunity. He flexes it fine, however, turning it around to look at.]
[He glances up at her, but seems extremely hesitant to offer the hand to her. The fear doesn't appear to be of her, though. More... the hand is a malformity he doesn't want to let her see.
After a moment, he extends his arm so she can look at the marbled purple flesh.]
It... [He pauses with hesitation again.] Some of my blood accidentally got into it... and it evolved. After working with it some, I realized... it could restore dead things to life. Like... a plant. But it would only last for several seconds before it would die again.
[that's fair - she's very patient, and when he offers his hand, she's very careful not to touch or prod too hard. she does take it in both of her own, but she's delicate, turning his hand at the wrist back and forth to look. when she's finished, she lets go, but she rests her hand on his wrist briefly before she does.
it's alright, it's just his hand. she's not bothered by it.]
I see. [a pause.] That sounds like healing magic to me, you know. Or... well.
[It feels fleshy, but stiff, like taut cord. And it's cold? Very cold. He puts it right back in the glove after he gets it back like he is ashamed of it. (He is.)]
It was... dangerous because it was so unknown. Raw arcane power, but a kind that learns from its surroundings. From whatever is given to it. I thought I could control it, I thought it could cure me, but...
I asked him to destroy the Hex Core... because... I couldn't do it...
[He sounds so ashamed, curling the gloved hand against his chest. Of course he couldn't do it. That was his saving grace, he thought. It had the answers locked away somewhere inside it, the key to his salvation.]
I...
[He is quiet again. When he glances at her, his smile is apologetic and very tight.]
It isn't going to matter. I'm... fairly sure... I... Jayce, I... the whole council. I'm fairly sure we were going to die. Right before I woke up here in the chamber.
... It will matter. You have the choice to go back before it happens. [she doesn't want him to die, and that's like... not hard to see.] You have as many chances as you allow yourself.
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she picks at the sleeves of her dress. she doesn't say anything about the first part - she's a little unsure, but. no, it must have been. it had to have been.]
I told you. To keep us under control. [...] It's not a glamorous life. If we didn't have the collars, we'd try to escape. I've never wanted to...
[there's a pause, and a distant thought of something that doesn't quite sound like her voice. I hope you make it back to the light soon. maybe it sounds familiar.]
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OTHER PEOPLE, THOUGH... Throne would have loved Mel, wow.]
And it was you who told me--what was it? "You only have one life and you can live it however you want, there's no second try"? You are worth so much more on your own than living in the shadow of a family who doesn't know how to love you the way they should.
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I know. [her fingers tap one, two, three at her pulse.] I told you that because I believe it. I want to be free. And I was in the process of earning that freedom right before I found myself here.
The collar requires a key. Father and Mother are the ones who carry them.
[maybe she doesn't quite believe she's worth more, but - she does believe in being selfish. she wants her freedom and she'll do whatever she has to in order to get it. there's a twinge of something affectionate, though - she appreciates that he's fighting so hard to tell her.]
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He stares up at the dimly lit moon darkness.]
A normal key? A magical key? I can make a key... with some time. And the right tools.
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No. [don't just say no] This is something I have to do myself. Or it will never feel right.
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Which part, the collar, or the freedom? Because you still have a ways to go even if I got the collar off.
[But he doesn't sound pushy. He gets it.]
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...
[anyway, she doesn't argue because it's not like he's wrong, but she's not thinking about it. the first step is getting the collar off. then she can figure out what she does next. it doesn't even occur to her to think about the rest - she doesn't have a concept of what life will be like when she finally manages to run. the bad doesn't just go away.]
The collar and the freedom are one and the same.
[she says, stubbornly.]
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I believe you can do it. I know you can.
[He looks at the ceiling again, quiet for a few moments.]
Just... make sure you don't do anything terrible to get there. Don't do anything you would regret. You can get there without that.
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she looks at him again, for a good moment.]
Things that are terrible and things that I regret aren't always two separate things. [she tells him, soft.] ... Luke said the same thing to me. That I can get through it doing the right thing.
That's naive. [a beat.] I won't do anything I will regret.
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[FIRST OF ALL. My Throne/Luke NOOOOOOOOOO. GRITS MY TEETH. ANYWAY.]
You won't know you regret it until after it's done. You won't know in that moment because... that's all you can see. The end, the answer. It's right there, just in reach. You won't think about anything but getting a hold of it.
Just be careful, okay?
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it's very, very hard for her to not roll her eyes at this. she doesn't! but it's difficult.]
I always am. [this is a LIE. but it's fine, he doesn't need to know.] ... Sounds like you have experience with that, Viktor.
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One wilding MF to another.
He does not look at her (on purpose, shamed, guilty), but at the ceiling instead.]
I do.
[He does not say anything else or do anything for a long moment, but then he lifts his right arm above him. He pulls off thr glove by the fingers.
From wrist to whole hand, the skin seems to have vanished, replaced by deep and mottled purple muscle with glossy lines threaded within. Like it might glow if given the opportunity. He flexes it fine, however, turning it around to look at.]
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she looks surprised - it's hard not to. there's a pause as she just examines his hand, the mottled look to it, and then:]
... What did you do?
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I tried to do whatever I could to cure myself even if it meant testing something unethical.
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Interesting. And it didn't work. [...] Was this that Hextech you were talking about?
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I had been working on something new. A runic matrix. I called it the Hex Core. I found out... it could learn. It could evolve.
I knew it was what would save me. But I couldn't figure out how to get it to work the way I wanted it.
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What does it do? I assume it's magic. [...] Does it reverse damage?
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After a moment, he extends his arm so she can look at the marbled purple flesh.]
It... [He pauses with hesitation again.] Some of my blood accidentally got into it... and it evolved. After working with it some, I realized... it could restore dead things to life. Like... a plant. But it would only last for several seconds before it would die again.
I couldn't get it to... last.
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it's alright, it's just his hand. she's not bothered by it.]
I see. [a pause.] That sounds like healing magic to me, you know. Or... well.
[hm.]
I don't like that it took your blood to do it.
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It was... dangerous because it was so unknown. Raw arcane power, but a kind that learns from its surroundings. From whatever is given to it. I thought I could control it, I thought it could cure me, but...
It only brought about suffering.
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... You were looking for freedom. [she says, quietly.] I can't blame you for that.
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I did something bad... trying to do good with what we had created. We were going to make it right. Jayce promised.
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[He sounds so ashamed, curling the gloved hand against his chest. Of course he couldn't do it. That was his saving grace, he thought. It had the answers locked away somewhere inside it, the key to his salvation.]
I...
[He is quiet again. When he glances at her, his smile is apologetic and very tight.]
It isn't going to matter. I'm... fairly sure... I... Jayce, I... the whole council. I'm fairly sure we were going to die. Right before I woke up here in the chamber.
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... It will matter. You have the choice to go back before it happens. [she doesn't want him to die, and that's like... not hard to see.] You have as many chances as you allow yourself.
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