[ he is going to need those cigarettes as a surprise for later.
this is all very sweet and he isn't quite sure what to do with that - there's some real acts of service happening in his direction and that is new and makes his chest do something weird and unsettling - so he's diverting into being a nosy busybody instead. poking one of the flowers, thumbing through the Dork Lover book and holding up one of the skirts hanging around to his waist to see if he could pull it off.
tilting his head at the coat, raising an eyebrow.]
Viktor doesn't seem to mind the nosy rummaging. He is also nosy clearly. He just lets Lucien explore like a new cat introduced to a house, brows rising curiously when the skirt comes up.
Then he sort of shrugs dismissively with his hand and his face.] I had time to kill, and I needed... something to do with my hands. [Antsy energy.] I'm not a tailor, but... I've fixed a few holes in my life. [He's an Undercity rat, they always had holes in their clothes.
For a guy with a messy brain, the outside is relatively tidy actually, waow.]
The other sandwich is yours. Undercity special. The bread isn't moldy at least, and it's warm.
My sister was always the one who did that. Used to fix the costumes.
[ he will ........ take the sandwich. despite threatening to not eat, he is kind of staving actually so he'll take it over to sit on the edge of the bed and settle in to start. sorry about getting crumbs in the sheets, he is the worst. ]
[He moves over to sit at his desk as Lucien gets settled. The crumbs will bother him......later. For now, he goes back to pulling the needle through the rest of the coat.]
Sounds like your sister probably kept you in line.
[He glances over his shoulder briefly and snorts at the hell yeah. WHY, it's so stupid.]
[He seems amused, but continues pushing the needle in and then pulling it through. Lucien, always "bossy," noted.]
Oh, no surprise there, Mr. I Want to Shoot the Ship's Giant Laser Gun; last name, I Have Nine Ancient Arcane Mages Inside Me.
[There is strangely no judgement in the tone of his teasing; he doesn't even look up. It really sounds like he just accepts these wild atrocities and finds them endearing. More seriously and curiously:]
[ yeah, lucien always bossy. anyway he is straight up laughing at this assessment, because, true? ]
Don't forget my middle name, Lived Died Lived Died Again Lived. My parents weren't succinct people, were they ... ?
[ he WILL fire that fucking giant laser gun before this is over. ]
Oh all sorts of things. Roam the countryside, put on little plays for the townsfolk for coppers and occasionally a few thrown rocks, incur burdensome gambling debts, play music, take loans from the local bloodthirsty gangs, drink to oblivion, dance. Wide variety.
[DON'T JUST AGREE. The hell. DON'T TOUCH THE LASER, HE SWEARS TO GOD.]
Oh.
[He pretends like hearing all of this makes him more judgy of Lucien by wrinkling his nose.]
You would fit right in inside Zaun then. No countryside, though, unfortunately. It's mostly underground. Piltover's bottom end. [Hmmm. He pauses to turn in the seat, leaning an arm on the back.] Do you sing?
[ he's eaten like half the sandwich and considers that good enough, getting up to put the uneaten half back on the plate. he takes a long time considering the question, actually. ]
[He sort of shrugs one shoulder timidly, a light dismissal. HE WASN'T DOING NOTHIN........ He glances at the sandwich, but doesn't admonish Lucien. HE HAS HIS OWN HALF-EATEN SANDWICH THERE.
[Hmmm. He just watches Lucien's face while Lucien thinks, patient. The barest hints of a smile curl the corner of his lips.]
You're supposed to tell me, "I liked the traveling," or "I liked playing in the summer when it was warm," not that. [His tone is that he's teasing, but it's a cover for understanding what Lucien really means.] It's interesting. To me, I mean. I can't... do any of that really. Painting, singing, playing an instrument. Writing stories. Acting.
[ this is actually very sweet, and it's doing the weird thing to his chest again where he's feeling emotion (like a child, or intelligent dog), but he's given in enough to it today for it to be a little easier now. he doesn't quite know how to explain that all of that is both a raw, rotting reminder of a past best left buried, and something he revels in all the time. writing stories. viktor seems to appreciate "lucien" enough, the role he plays in this skin until his part is served and he's told to leave the stage. cease pretending to be this kind of creature.
letting his hand slide under viktor's elbow, gently trying to pull him up out of the desk chair. ]
How about this. Sometime soon you get me a little drunk, and I'll do my best rendition of The Plank King's Wife with every filthy Marquesian word left in.
If you don't know Marquesian, it's actually a charming little love song. She distracts all those bloodthirsty pirates for him and that's before the Concord privateers get involved ...
[ he was told to rest so he's doing as instructed, heading back over to the bed but dragging viktor along with him. ]
[THIS ISN'T WHAT HE MEANT!!!! He was supposed to have the time to fix the stupid coat!]
Distracts...?
[Oh. He may have been stupid about the initial advances, but once they are in place, he is not entirely stupid anymore. A moment of panic spikes through him when he realizes he's being dragged toward the bed. He has to decide if he thinks Lucien is going to sleep with him or sleep with him.
He isn't worried about... the implications, the act. He's worried about himself. He's worried about his body. Even covered in eyes hidden by tattoos, even covered in scars, even as a Tiefling with red eyes, horns, and a tail, he feels like Lucien is leagues better in the attractive department.
Lucien's body isn't wasted by something terminal (he looks healthier this week than he has so far actually, but he can't see it), isn't all being held together by leather and screws, by a Eldritch purple leg twisted with the metal of a leg brace it had assimilated.]
[ lucien doesn't even know yet if lucien is going to sleep with him or sleep with him, he just knows he's tired of viktor paying more attention to that coat than to him when he's right here being extremely attractive.
he sits down on the bed again, keeping a hold of his hand and bringing it over to kiss the back of it - grinning up at him. ]
The hand kiss is so unexpected and, frankly to him, completely over the top that his face breaks out in a dark flush. The grin makes this WORSE on him.]
I don't think...
[He trails off and doesn't finish for a long moment. Well, he does not know Lucien's intentions yet and refuses to assign something that might not be there. He puts one knee on the bed as if to say he is coming aboard.]
[ he moves over to one side to give him room - settling in, though he stays sort of propped up against a pillow, hand on his chin to watch him. look he's not much of a side-sleeper the horns make that difficult. ]
[Before even deciding to answer, he climbs onto the bed and turns around to get situated. The awkward moments of trying to figure out how best to lie in bed with another dude who has horns.
He opts to lie on his back for now, tucked beside Lucien. Hands folded on his stomach. Is he going into a coffin? It still takes him a bit of time to answer.]
I wasn't sure if... you were trying to sleep with me. [He can hear the (lucien voice) i AM sleeping with you haha already.] I was going to say... I don't think I'm exactly... that kind of material.
[ he'll spare him the runaround horseshit for the time being because he can tell this is actually on the verge of killing him and he's not entirely convinced that viktor will survive this in the first place without some frankness. and he has to survive long enough to be killed :/ reaching over to put a few fingers on viktor's chin and turns his face towards him. ]
Well, I wouldn't say I wasn't trying.
[ so, that's out there. ]
What makes you say that? Because, look-- [ he sits up again, sorry for directly disobeying orders to lie down. but he MUST talk with his hands, all easy gestures, tail lightly thumping the bed. ] Pleasures of the flesh are grand and all, but it isn't the end of everything if you'd rather something else. But you know, you don't have anything to worry about, material-wise. At least not with me - and as we've discussed and agreed, I'm always correct.
[How easily his head goes, but he ends up making a playfully exasperated face.
Turning onto his side, he reaches up and puts a hand on Lucien's chest, trying to coax Lucien into lying down again without making it obvious. Gesticulate while lying down, idiod. He brings his hand back to himself, but not before sort of hooking it over Lucien's elbow. He hates how Lucien can get him to snort in amusement between them like a secret.]
I never really thought about it... No one was particularly interested in the cripple from the Undercity. It was worse when I got into Piltover. Of course, you could have your pick from the best there. No need for the guy with the crutch and the leg brace, the spine full of screws and the ugly back brace.
So I didn't give it much thought when... I just used it for progress. Better to ruin a body already ruined, right? I just think that... there are more attractive people here for that sort of thing. [A wry laugh.] Maybe more fun, too.
[ lucien isn't charismatic, but he has a certain charm to him. there's quite a few people following him across eiselcross for this exact reason.]
Established already that I don't give a single red copper piece about what anyone else thinks is the "best." They're wrong. They're all bastards and fools, blind to anything that actually matters.
[ see the previously stated lucien-is-always-correct clause. he does come back down, but after a moment leans over to close the distance - letting his forehead rest against viktor's, red-on-red eyes searching for ... something. ]
I stopped caring about any of this. My body is an instrument, a cage, and is here only to serve the purpose of transporting me until I no longer have need of it. When I reobtained it, I slid back inside the skin and it didn't fit anymore. It doesn't look how I left it, it doesn't feel the same - a hollowed puppet, and one I no longer belong in. Tattooed and shoved through with metal, holes drilled through the horns. Splinters beneath the surface. The Eyes lay claim to what little is left.
Some days it isn't so terrible, especially here, when it's quiet and I can hear my own thoughts. But still, I traded flesh for knowledge - for control - same as you.
[ curling his arm up to slide his hand over viktor's, pressing it back against his chest, under the edge of the shirt - heartbeat erratic and heavy. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ he is going to need those cigarettes as a surprise for later.
this is all very sweet and he isn't quite sure what to do with that - there's some real acts of service happening in his direction and that is new and makes his chest do something weird and unsettling - so he's diverting into being a nosy busybody instead. poking one of the flowers, thumbing through the Dork Lover book and holding up one of the skirts hanging around to his waist to see if he could pull it off.
tilting his head at the coat, raising an eyebrow.]
You're fixing it.
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Viktor doesn't seem to mind the nosy rummaging. He is also nosy clearly. He just lets Lucien explore like a new cat introduced to a house, brows rising curiously when the skirt comes up.
Then he sort of shrugs dismissively with his hand and his face.] I had time to kill, and I needed... something to do with my hands. [Antsy energy.] I'm not a tailor, but... I've fixed a few holes in my life. [He's an Undercity rat, they always had holes in their clothes.
For a guy with a messy brain, the outside is relatively tidy actually, waow.]
The other sandwich is yours. Undercity special. The bread isn't moldy at least, and it's warm.
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[ he will ........ take the sandwich. despite threatening to not eat, he is kind of staving actually so he'll take it over to sit on the edge of the bed and settle in to start. sorry about getting crumbs in the sheets, he is the worst. ]
Hell yeah.
[ oh yeah he is still cursed. ]
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Sounds like your sister probably kept you in line.
[He glances over his shoulder briefly and snorts at the hell yeah. WHY, it's so stupid.]
Were you... performers?
["Costumes"...]
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Dreda? Please. She was the baby. Always wandering off head in the clouds. I was the one keeping the line.
[ mouthful of sandwich. ]
Yeah. Mummers. Little caravan and everything. [ gesturing to himself. ] I always had the villain role. Good at the speeches.
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Oh, no surprise there, Mr. I Want to Shoot the Ship's Giant Laser Gun; last name, I Have Nine Ancient Arcane Mages Inside Me.
[There is strangely no judgement in the tone of his teasing; he doesn't even look up. It really sounds like he just accepts these wild atrocities and finds them endearing. More seriously and curiously:]
What do Mummers do exactly?
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Don't forget my middle name, Lived Died Lived Died Again Lived. My parents weren't succinct people, were they ... ?
[ he WILL fire that fucking giant laser gun before this is over. ]
Oh all sorts of things. Roam the countryside, put on little plays for the townsfolk for coppers and occasionally a few thrown rocks, incur burdensome gambling debts, play music, take loans from the local bloodthirsty gangs, drink to oblivion, dance. Wide variety.
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Oh.
[He pretends like hearing all of this makes him more judgy of Lucien by wrinkling his nose.]
You would fit right in inside Zaun then. No countryside, though, unfortunately. It's mostly underground. Piltover's bottom end. [Hmmm. He pauses to turn in the seat, leaning an arm on the back.] Do you sing?
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I was 10, I didn't make the financial decisions.
[ fixing him with a look. ]
Nope. Never could hold a tune.
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Oh. That's okay.
[He turns back to the coat with the needle in hand so he can continue.]
Did you like it at all? Being a Mummer.
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Did you want me to sing?
[ he's eaten like half the sandwich and considers that good enough, getting up to put the uneaten half back on the plate. he takes a long time considering the question, actually. ]
I didn't hate all of it.
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Glancing up at Lucien.]
What parts did you like?
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... I think I liked imagining what it could have been the best. As it should be, and not what it actually was.
[ elbowing him on the shoulder lightly. ]
I can sing a little, and I know the mandolin. Happy?
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You're supposed to tell me, "I liked the traveling," or "I liked playing in the summer when it was warm," not that. [His tone is that he's teasing, but it's a cover for understanding what Lucien really means.] It's interesting. To me, I mean. I can't... do any of that really. Painting, singing, playing an instrument. Writing stories. Acting.
[He is just a little engineer man.]
I want to hear you sing.
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letting his hand slide under viktor's elbow, gently trying to pull him up out of the desk chair. ]
How about this. Sometime soon you get me a little drunk, and I'll do my best rendition of The Plank King's Wife with every filthy Marquesian word left in.
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His brows rise in question, but then he pretends to be embarrassed about such a scandalous thing.]
Oh, I think I might be a little too young to hear that song actually...
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[ he was told to rest so he's doing as instructed, heading back over to the bed but dragging viktor along with him. ]
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Distracts...?
[Oh. He may have been stupid about the initial advances, but once they are in place, he is not entirely stupid anymore. A moment of panic spikes through him when he realizes he's being dragged toward the bed. He has to decide if he thinks Lucien is going to sleep with him or sleep with him.
He isn't worried about... the implications, the act. He's worried about himself. He's worried about his body. Even covered in eyes hidden by tattoos, even covered in scars, even as a Tiefling with red eyes, horns, and a tail, he feels like Lucien is leagues better in the attractive department.
Lucien's body isn't wasted by something terminal (he looks healthier this week than he has so far actually, but he can't see it), isn't all being held together by leather and screws, by a Eldritch purple leg twisted with the metal of a leg brace it had assimilated.]
Are you trying to get me to tuck you in?
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he sits down on the bed again, keeping a hold of his hand and bringing it over to kiss the back of it - grinning up at him. ]
Your choice, I suppose.
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The hand kiss is so unexpected and, frankly to him, completely over the top that his face breaks out in a dark flush. The grin makes this WORSE on him.]
I don't think...
[He trails off and doesn't finish for a long moment. Well, he does not know Lucien's intentions yet and refuses to assign something that might not be there. He puts one knee on the bed as if to say he is coming aboard.]
Lie down. You do need to rest.
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[ he moves over to one side to give him room - settling in, though he stays sort of propped up against a pillow, hand on his chin to watch him. look he's not much of a side-sleeper the horns make that difficult. ]
You don't think?
[ teasing. ]
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He opts to lie on his back for now, tucked beside Lucien. Hands folded on his stomach. Is he going into a coffin? It still takes him a bit of time to answer.]
I wasn't sure if... you were trying to sleep with me. [He can hear the (lucien voice) i AM sleeping with you haha already.] I was going to say... I don't think I'm exactly... that kind of material.
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Well, I wouldn't say I wasn't trying.
[ so, that's out there. ]
What makes you say that? Because, look-- [ he sits up again, sorry for directly disobeying orders to lie down. but he MUST talk with his hands, all easy gestures, tail lightly thumping the bed. ] Pleasures of the flesh are grand and all, but it isn't the end of everything if you'd rather something else. But you know, you don't have anything to worry about, material-wise. At least not with me - and as we've discussed and agreed, I'm always correct.
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Turning onto his side, he reaches up and puts a hand on Lucien's chest, trying to coax Lucien into lying down again without making it obvious. Gesticulate while lying down, idiod. He brings his hand back to himself, but not before sort of hooking it over Lucien's elbow. He hates how Lucien can get him to snort in amusement between them like a secret.]
I never really thought about it... No one was particularly interested in the cripple from the Undercity. It was worse when I got into Piltover. Of course, you could have your pick from the best there. No need for the guy with the crutch and the leg brace, the spine full of screws and the ugly back brace.
So I didn't give it much thought when... I just used it for progress. Better to ruin a body already ruined, right? I just think that... there are more attractive people here for that sort of thing. [A wry laugh.] Maybe more fun, too.
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Established already that I don't give a single red copper piece about what anyone else thinks is the "best." They're wrong. They're all bastards and fools, blind to anything that actually matters.
[ see the previously stated lucien-is-always-correct clause. he does come back down, but after a moment leans over to close the distance - letting his forehead rest against viktor's, red-on-red eyes searching for ... something. ]
I stopped caring about any of this. My body is an instrument, a cage, and is here only to serve the purpose of transporting me until I no longer have need of it. When I reobtained it, I slid back inside the skin and it didn't fit anymore. It doesn't look how I left it, it doesn't feel the same - a hollowed puppet, and one I no longer belong in. Tattooed and shoved through with metal, holes drilled through the horns. Splinters beneath the surface. The Eyes lay claim to what little is left.
Some days it isn't so terrible, especially here, when it's quiet and I can hear my own thoughts. But still, I traded flesh for knowledge - for control - same as you.
[ curling his arm up to slide his hand over viktor's, pressing it back against his chest, under the edge of the shirt - heartbeat erratic and heavy. ]
This isn't entirely mine. So, a ruin for a ruin.
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