abraxaslogs | [ CATCH-ALL ] and what you see is not the dark

[Viktor had awoken at the crater in a state of shock, having to reconcile his imagined body with the one that exists in the real world. He hadn't been able to do much beyond let himself be dragged away by Alucard, and then in the aftermath locked the door of the workshop and attempted to recover.

But he learned things, in that alternate reality, and they're going to come knocking on his door sooner or later. Viktor can't avoid it forever--he owes that much to Ciri, especially given the fact that this possible future is even more reason for him to try and escape this world.]

I have time.

[Though he does sound slightly exhausted by the prospect. Viktor looks tired, and rather uncharacteristically wears a pair of gloves with the sleeves rolled down. He swivels on his stool to face her.]

I imagine you have...questions.

[ Ciri pulls a crate out from against the wall to sit on nearby so they're eye level. She leans forward, elbows on her knees. ]

Sure do.

[ Her tone is mild. Her eyes scan him over, looking for anything... weird.

Like her unusually opalescent hair. It's been like that, since the crater: a bit too shiny, catching a rainbow of colors in the desert's bright sunlight, though the effect is muted indoors. ]

First question: How are you?

[Viktor is bracing for most of his friends to be...not necessarily disappointed in him, but concerned. Their relationship in the imagined future had been slightly volatile, at times, and he can't imagine she's very happy that he now has a greater idea of her real powers. He seems contrite, folding his hands on the table and worrying at the cuticle of one thumb with the nail of the other.

How are you is a bit loaded. He's distressed, as evidenced by the closure of the workshop. The alternate universe was imagined, but if it really is the future that awaits them, he needs to puzzle out the Summoning ritual before it's too late.

He's not sure she'll be happy to hear that, either.]

Still processing, I suppose. Returning to this body has been...disorienting.

[ To be fair, it's the same questions she's annoyed other people keep asking her... but also, it feels callous not to ask, and there's only so many ways to phrase it. The answer is as expected as the question. She nods. ]

I know what you mean.

There's a lot to... process.

[ He looks guarded to her, closed in on himself. Smaller than she remembers.

There's a lot that she remembers -- at least, it feels that way, though thankfully it can't be more than snippets considering the imagined length of time. Still, it weighs on them all. She needs to know how much he can recall. Needs to know if it matters. ]

Viktor, I--

I need to know what you remember. About me.

[ About their project. It was a dream they'd both believed in then, in that place that never existed. She knows it's a dream based on his reality now. Based on the same pain that had driven him to give up the person he loved.

The cost was too steep, in Ciri's view. Too steep, on both accounts.

Are they destined to have these rifts between them? ]

[It's difficult to remember everything that happened over the course of so many centuries. Even now, his memories of the imagined future are becoming more and more dreamlike. Viktor recalls broad strokes, and he remembers how certain things made him feel, and he remembers their time experimenting.]

I remember working together. Trying to use your powers to find a way to move between worlds.

[He's not sure why he never made the connection in the real world. All of their dancing around the nature of her abilities, the entities that would pursue her, if they knew she was here. It seems in their imagined future, they eventually broached the subject.]

It didn't end well. I'm sorry.

[ Ciri listens, nodding. In truth, it's all broad strokes for her too (thankfully), but certain things stick out. Certain things refuse to fade completely, like the persistent details in a recurring dream.

In a way, it's a relief. They've been tiptoeing around it too long. She wanted to trust him before this; she wanted to share certain things, thinking he might be able to help, but always hesitated in the end. Now, that hard part is over.

Well. One of the hard parts. No guarantee the rest will be easier. ]

No. It never ends well.

[ She doesn't try to deny any of it or even ask him to keep it to himself. That part's obvious. No matter the surreal nature of the imagined future, even there they'd been together the whole time, drifting apart but never forever. She remembers. They fought (who didn't she fight with?) but they always helped each other when it mattered. ]

My powers have never been stable. No matter how hard I tried.

I summoned monsters from other worlds without meaning to. I opened doors, and things came through. I traveled to places no one should ever see. I lost people. I lost myself, at times.

Here-- everything is more unpredictable than ever.

[He understands why she wanted to keep it secret--and why she might have hesitated, to tell him in the real world. Given time and additional desperation, it only made sense that she came to him eventually. But now they're back to their proper selves, and they have to live with the things they learned about each other.

The possible future should mean that he's more desperate than ever to leave. He is, but now he has to weigh what they experienced, when they were given the opportunity to actually try.]

The cost seems too great. [Perhaps that was the lesson they were meant to learn.] But I cannot allow that imagined future to come to pass, either.

It isn't the future. It was a... hypothetical. A mirage of what could be.

[ She has to believe that. Ciri's voice carries a hard edge to it, an insistence that says how strongly she agrees with him in that, despite their differences in opinion on the details. It's not a future she wants for herself, either. No surprise there. ]

The Singularity's hold on us-- I think there might be too much truth to that part. But what it showed us, what we experienced, it wasn't real. It isn't set.

[ They aren't doomed to repeat their mistakes; she has to believe that. But they may have been able to learn something from them, imagined as they were, regardless. ]

The dangers I know my powers can bring-- those are very real. I can't risk opening the door to them. Perhaps the Singularity shields me from their view. I don't know. But they are attuned to my magic, and if that magic escapes this realm, there's no telling how far they'll chase it.

[ Her gaze softens, almost pleading. She leans forward. ]

Viktor. [ A catch in her voice, desperation in the sound of his name. She needs him to understand. The cost is too great, he says, and it's all true, and they could put the whole world -- other worlds -- in untold danger. But then there is the personal cost. What she would lose. ]

This is the longest I've ever not been running, since I was a girl. Not constantly looking over my shoulder, afraid to get attached to anyplace or anyone. I know it sounds insane, with all that's happened, but this is the most peace I've experienced since... I can scarce remember when.

[Ciri sounds more like she's convincing herself than anyone else, though Viktor can't exactly blame her. The thought of remaining here for long enough to become what he did is slightly terrifying, even if he can't help but be intrigued by it. It's the remaining here against his will that he finds unbearable, and now that he knows what Ciri can really do, the impasse they're about to encounter becomes increasingly clear.]

No. It can't be our future.

[But he stops before saying that he'll do whatever it takes to ensure it.]

He understands what she's telling him. That she has personal stake in this, and that if he continues he could put her and others in very real danger, as he did in the imagined future.]

I don't want to hurt you. [And that's where this will lead, if he opens the door and those that are after her can finally make their way through. She's telling him he needs to stop, but Viktor can't accept that as an answer.] But if there's a way we can solve it--

It's a way that never came to us in that hypothetical.

[ She knows he's thinking of it too. How long they tried, how hard they pushed. He must remember she'd wanted it too. She'd wanted it for him, for the people she loved who lived every day with grief for their homes and their own loved ones. She'd wanted it for the sake of freedom, for the idea of being able to go anywhere she liked someday, a future she'd felt she deserved.

The cost was too high.

But none of it was real.

It's enough to leave your damn head spinning. ]

Maybe it's not impossible. [ Her tone gentles, but there's something sad in it, resigned. ] I can't blame you for trying.

Just... remember you may not be able to control what comes through a door you open. I learned that the hard way. I don't want you to get hurt either.

[Viktor has nothing to say to that--if he couldn't puzzle it out over the course of eight hundred years, how can he possibly think that he'll somehow do it back in the real world? His shoulders sag in defeat, and it seems like he has no good answer.]

Can you?

[She can't blame him, even if he might put them all in danger? Even if he's decided the risk might be worth it? That the risk to her might be worth it?]

I don't know what I'll do next. I have a lot to think about.

[ CATCH-ALL ] and what you see is not the dark

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