[ hatefully, he likes that? hissing through his teeth and then laughing again, shifting to lift himself up, and said tail does flick from side to side. you know how when you can tell a cat is about to do something terrible and there's nothing you can do to stop it? ]
[He turns a bit, just to keep Lucien in his full line of sight because the tail definitely makes him think he's about to get pounced.
The hand he puts on the front of Lucien's chest to keep Lucien at bay doesn't even put any resistance into it.] Don't, [he warns with a bit of a smirk, clearly very playfully.]
[ well a huge part of the reason he falls is instead of holding himself up he was about to get Argumentative about viktor's tiefling headcanons. actually falling has barely stopped him, he's just flopped over him instead and now crawling up to stick a finger in his face. ]
Don't go from I'll fish your soul out of the soup to fuck off and go to sleep, Lucien in two seconds flat, it's confusing as all hells, Viktor.
[ dont start biting thats how you get a reputation viktor and you'll never be able to shake it. you'll be the bites guy forever. that said, it is a reasonable reaction to any personality that inhabits this particular body. they just deserve to be bitten sometimes.
he scoffs, moving to straddle him instead, still looking vaguely annoyed. ]
[He was such a chill and not feral guy, and then Lucien erased his domesticity in an instant.
His hands nervously dip down to the top of Lucien's thighs, as if he thinks Lucien will teasingly put weight on his waist, and he'll have to try stopping it.]
Probably.
[IT'S TRUE, AND VIKTOR WON'T DENY IT. To Lucien.]
I don't want to hear that from you, of all people, though.
[ like dogs going feral in a pack released in the wild. lucien doesn't put weight on him, he is aware of viktor's bird bones and paper skin and figures that has a 40% chance of outright killing him if he tries. ]
[ ROLLING HIS EYES. but he knows, much like with the healing pod, he is probably not going to get anywhere with this until he actually does as he's told. flopping himself over sideways, doing a very theatrical display of getting comfortable with a pillow and everything - holding out a hand once he's done like see. resting. ]
[The smirk that comes to his face isn't so much smug as it is amused.] Yes. [He throws his legs off the side of the bed and sits up. But quickly, before Lucien panics:] I'm coming back. [He gets up to go retrieve the coat and the needle.
HE IS GONNA FINISH THIS FUCKING THING, SO HELP HIM.
And he does come back with it, settling down on his back with his shoulders and head piling sideways on top of Lucien's upper half. Lucien is now his pillow, thank you.]
Throne wants to stay together this time, so if she doesn't come in, she'll probably call. Do you want to come?
[ he does grumble when viktor starts getting up, but doesn't move to stop him. shifting to get comfortable when he comes back. he's good with the leaning, that's what tits are for. sliding an arm around viktor's shoulders or waist - whatever is easier to reach and out of the way of his sewing - relaxing against him in return. now that he is actually laying down, he is pretty goddamn tired. ]
I'll come. [ shifting like he's sinking in deeper because he's cozy now and doesn't want to think about moving. ] Not for a little while yet at least.
[As long as his arms are up enough--twink waist it is, tiny and there for other men to grab. Flush enough to miss just looking at him, Lucien can now feel the ridges of metal and leather of the back brace through his clothes. He doesn't seem to mind though, like he's comfortable with Lucien in general now.
He is also focused on the repetitive motions of the needle.]
If it follows the same pattern as last time, we all still have a little while, yes. I can wake you up?
[ he doesn't mind the feeling, exactly. he'd meant it when he said he didn't care either way about the state of his body, and there's a certain intimacy in feeling the brace as much as anything else, in being allowed to feel that. as for the proximity, it's nice to have. he's been an adventurer for a long time, and the job doesn't come with a lot of personal space. he's used to people around, idle touching, and it's been a while since he's been able to let his guard down enough for that. ]
You probably won't have to. I don't sleep well.
[ his eyes are closed though, fingers toying idly at the fold of his clothes. ]
[ he's still awake, but he's got his eyes closed - cracking one open when he's looked at, as if he can tell. ]
I don't stay in the room at all. I gave it up. [ so he's not sleeping ... because there's nowhere to really sleep except in short bursts. it's probably not helping the sanity problem. ] It isn't even the Somnovum, it's-- I get nightmares.
[He frowns gently, sympathetic. The needle stays paused a moment.]
Me, too. They got worse after we put together the runic matrix. [He is staring off to the side, looking through the distance.] They started to not even come at night anymore, but in the day...
He is quiet, and it's obvious by how he keeps looking Lucien's way he wants to ask more, but also respects privacy and boundaries because he is the soft side of their same coin.]
Sometimes, when I was younger, I would have dreams about Rio.
[He straightens his head so he can have something to do with his hands while he talks, so he can go back to sewing.]
Rio was a creature a former mentor of mine had made through unethical science. She was... like a giant pink salamander, very sweet. I would go to help him feed her. I already knew she was dying because he told me that when we first met.
But one day, I went to feed her, and I found her suffocating and shriveled on the ground, connected to his tubing, being kept alive. I was horrified. She looked terrible. And then he put her in a stasis tube like the chambers we crawled out of here in the beginning.
I use to dream about her gasping for breath all the time, her eyes glazed over.
[He's stopped sewing without realizing, his hands quivering.]
Now I... dream about Sky being ripped apart by the Hex Core trying to stop me from being a fool.
[ tightening the arm around his waist, but he doesn't sit up, not wanting to disrupt him. sometimes it's better to say these things without having to also enter the battlefield of pitying looks or too kind words that can't possibly capture the whole of it.
he hesitates, because this is the story that cree had to threaten him with a knife at his neck for, and even then he was debating accepting the blade than speak it aloud. but you know. an eye for an eye. a story for a story. ]
My older brother. There was a gap between us two younger ones and him, 5 years or so. He'd always take the worst of it - my father's drinking, and all - kept an eye out for us. But like I said, my parents had debts. The Jagentoths don't tolerate being overdue, but I don't think they meant to-- they wanted to shake them up. Flash steel around, make a mother cry a bit. But they don't hire for brains in the Red Debt. Cut slightly too deep in the wrong place and someone can bleed out before you know what's happened.
My parents found a witch, willing to do the work for trade in kind. But she didn't ... whatever she put back in that body wasn't him. It would walk, and talk, could even pluck a tune, but it stank in the rain and if you didn't tell it what to do, it'd stare into nothing unblinking. Didn't sound like him. She only had a knack for puppets, you see, not the true work of returning a soul to flesh.
So I used to dream of that. Hollow puppets, and the fire. But I hardly remember his face anymore.
Now it's a thousand other things. Brevyn and where we left her, frozen in that fucking tomb because we couldn't dig her out, and people who's names and faces I don't fucking remember, who call me the wrong name and beg for me to recognize them as if they mean something to me. A mage's tower, a thousand birds singing in the rafters, and waking up in a grave and clawing my way out. The witch Azarahari and how when I killed her she didn't even beg for her life. She just died. All of our blood together in that vile mixture in the chapel, and Dahut's heart. All of it.
[Viktor is wondering why Lucien has as much baggage as he does. He doesn't like it. The coat is resting on his chest, and his head as turned again to listen to Lucien, expression soft, understanding.
He wants to say sorry, but he of all people knows sorry doesn't change anything. Sorry is the temporary band-aid you have to politely thank someone for. It's just a platitude given by people who don't understand. Gently, he bumps Lucien's chest with the side of his head. The smile he gives is weak and wry.]
We're really two of the most pathetic men, huh?
[The humor fades into something more genuine.]
Is it... terrible that I'm glad I'm not alone? That someone else had to go through awful things, yet... now I feel like there's someone who actually understands.
[ he laughs, honestly, both because it's a true thing to say and the absurdity of it. is this what you have to do these days to meet people? get kidnapped to space while people turn into worms and also die around you?
he does shift to sit up a little at this point, and because sometimes everyone in this body has the same brain disease, leans in to kiss him on the forehead. ]
Kind of terrible, yeah. But I don't mind it. Suppose I'm glad too.
His expression softens. He feels like a toddler, of course, but finds, this once, he doesn't mind it. A reluctant smile appears, small, a kind of thanks.]
I hope you'll be able to sleep well sometime soon, without those kinds of dreams. [very funny the mental health gets worse] You can try now for a little bit.
[ sometimes you just are born with the vibes of a guy who passes out forehead kisses and it kind of works for you. flopping himself back down with some irritation at being tricked into agreeing to try and sleep with feelings like a fool, clicking his tongue but getting comfortable again and letting his eyes close. ]
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Oi. Who said you weren't fun?
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The hand he puts on the front of Lucien's chest to keep Lucien at bay doesn't even put any resistance into it.] Don't, [he warns with a bit of a smirk, clearly very playfully.]
You're supposed to be resting, I thought?
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I am resting? This is perfectly restful.
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This is... some kind of... racial resting thing...? Lucien!
[His arm gives out. OOF?]
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[ well a huge part of the reason he falls is instead of holding himself up he was about to get Argumentative about viktor's tiefling headcanons. actually falling has barely stopped him, he's just flopped over him instead and now crawling up to stick a finger in his face. ]
Don't go from I'll fish your soul out of the soup to fuck off and go to sleep, Lucien in two seconds flat, it's confusing as all hells, Viktor.
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But then he laughs, genuine himself, except it's quiet and airy.]
You're pretty attractive when you're annoyed with me.
[This might be better than
biting the finger.]
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he scoffs, moving to straddle him instead, still looking vaguely annoyed. ]
That's because there's something wrong with you.
[ true, but he shouldn't say it. ]
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His hands nervously dip down to the top of Lucien's thighs, as if he thinks Lucien will teasingly put weight on his waist, and he'll have to try stopping it.]
Probably.
[IT'S TRUE, AND VIKTOR WON'T DENY IT. To Lucien.]
I don't want to hear that from you, of all people, though.
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I never said there wasn't anything wrong with me.
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At least keep pretending. You're supposed to be good at that, right? Acting. You know what else you're supposed to be good at?
[Levels him with a Look.]
Resting.
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Happy?
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HE IS GONNA FINISH THIS FUCKING THING, SO HELP HIM.
And he does come back with it, settling down on his back with his shoulders and head piling sideways on top of Lucien's upper half. Lucien is now his pillow, thank you.]
Throne wants to stay together this time, so if she doesn't come in, she'll probably call. Do you want to come?
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I'll come. [ shifting like he's sinking in deeper because he's cozy now and doesn't want to think about moving. ] Not for a little while yet at least.
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He is also focused on the repetitive motions of the needle.]
If it follows the same pattern as last time, we all still have a little while, yes. I can wake you up?
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You probably won't have to. I don't sleep well.
[ his eyes are closed though, fingers toying idly at the fold of his clothes. ]
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[He pulls the needle through a few more times in silence. Then he rolls his head to glance briefly over at Lucien, mostly to check on him.]
Have you been sleeping poorly here? [Quiet, in case Lucien is asleep.] I mean, besides the domestic bickering in your room.
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I don't stay in the room at all. I gave it up. [ so he's not sleeping ... because there's nowhere to really sleep except in short bursts. it's probably not helping the sanity problem. ] It isn't even the Somnovum, it's-- I get nightmares.
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Me, too. They got worse after we put together the runic matrix. [He is staring off to the side, looking through the distance.] They started to not even come at night anymore, but in the day...
[He glances up suddenly, sheepish.]
Sorry. What... kind of nightmares are they?
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Don't say sorry.
[ he likes hearing that viktor's brain is just as terrible. ]
Things that refuse to die, mostly.
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He is quiet, and it's obvious by how he keeps looking Lucien's way he wants to ask more, but also respects privacy and boundaries because he is the soft side of their same coin.]
Sometimes, when I was younger, I would have dreams about Rio.
[He straightens his head so he can have something to do with his hands while he talks, so he can go back to sewing.]
Rio was a creature a former mentor of mine had made through unethical science. She was... like a giant pink salamander, very sweet. I would go to help him feed her. I already knew she was dying because he told me that when we first met.
But one day, I went to feed her, and I found her suffocating and shriveled on the ground, connected to his tubing, being kept alive. I was horrified. She looked terrible. And then he put her in a stasis tube like the chambers we crawled out of here in the beginning.
I use to dream about her gasping for breath all the time, her eyes glazed over.
[He's stopped sewing without realizing, his hands quivering.]
Now I... dream about Sky being ripped apart by the Hex Core trying to stop me from being a fool.
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he hesitates, because this is the story that cree had to threaten him with a knife at his neck for, and even then he was debating accepting the blade than speak it aloud. but you know. an eye for an eye. a story for a story. ]
My older brother. There was a gap between us two younger ones and him, 5 years or so. He'd always take the worst of it - my father's drinking, and all - kept an eye out for us. But like I said, my parents had debts. The Jagentoths don't tolerate being overdue, but I don't think they meant to-- they wanted to shake them up. Flash steel around, make a mother cry a bit. But they don't hire for brains in the Red Debt. Cut slightly too deep in the wrong place and someone can bleed out before you know what's happened.
My parents found a witch, willing to do the work for trade in kind. But she didn't ... whatever she put back in that body wasn't him. It would walk, and talk, could even pluck a tune, but it stank in the rain and if you didn't tell it what to do, it'd stare into nothing unblinking. Didn't sound like him. She only had a knack for puppets, you see, not the true work of returning a soul to flesh.
So I used to dream of that. Hollow puppets, and the fire. But I hardly remember his face anymore.
Now it's a thousand other things. Brevyn and where we left her, frozen in that fucking tomb because we couldn't dig her out, and people who's names and faces I don't fucking remember, who call me the wrong name and beg for me to recognize them as if they mean something to me. A mage's tower, a thousand birds singing in the rafters, and waking up in a grave and clawing my way out. The witch Azarahari and how when I killed her she didn't even beg for her life. She just died. All of our blood together in that vile mixture in the chapel, and Dahut's heart. All of it.
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He wants to say sorry, but he of all people knows sorry doesn't change anything. Sorry is the temporary band-aid you have to politely thank someone for. It's just a platitude given by people who don't understand. Gently, he bumps Lucien's chest with the side of his head. The smile he gives is weak and wry.]
We're really two of the most pathetic men, huh?
[The humor fades into something more genuine.]
Is it... terrible that I'm glad I'm not alone? That someone else had to go through awful things, yet... now I feel like there's someone who actually understands.
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[ he laughs, honestly, both because it's a true thing to say and the absurdity of it. is this what you have to do these days to meet people? get kidnapped to space while people turn into worms and also die around you?
he does shift to sit up a little at this point, and because sometimes everyone in this body has the same brain disease, leans in to kiss him on the forehead. ]
Kind of terrible, yeah. But I don't mind it. Suppose I'm glad too.
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His expression softens. He feels like a toddler, of course, but finds, this once, he doesn't mind it. A reluctant smile appears, small, a kind of thanks.]
I hope you'll be able to sleep well sometime soon, without those kinds of dreams. [very funny the mental health gets worse] You can try now for a little bit.
I'll look after you.
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[ sometimes you just are born with the vibes of a guy who passes out forehead kisses and it kind of works for you. flopping himself back down with some irritation at being tricked into agreeing to try and sleep with feelings like a fool, clicking his tongue but getting comfortable again and letting his eyes close. ]
If Throné walks in you can tell her I'm a corpse.
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