[closed]

[techmaturgy]

Who: Viktor & Friends
When: September
Where: Cadens, Nocwich, perhaps elsewhere
What: closed starters & etc
Warnings: viktor is experimenting on himself again

[closed starters in the comments! If you want me to write you something, just hit me up. For everything else, I’m on plurk at whitticus and on discord also at whitticus.]

Comments

reva hym

[techmaturgy]

[The last time Viktor came to Portam Hall, in the aftermath of the bombing, he'd waited patiently, certain he was going to be ill. Though he was not, in fact, sick all over the floor, he did lose his nerve upon reaching the front of the queue only to be told that Reiner would not see him. He knows what he should have done--what other people, like Steve or Sam would have done--demand an audience, refuse to leave until his request was met.

But Viktor is not versed in politics, nor did he have the fortitude, in that moment, to do much of anything. He slinks away, intending to reconfigure, but then the fighting in the badlands begins and it becomes an excuse to stay away.

When it subsides (thankfully without word of further misuse of his technology), he tells himself he can't wait any longer, and returns to Portam Hall to wait. He's passed around for a bit, before it seems like they're going to grant him some kind of audience, and then he's left to his agita in a private room, where he waits patiently and again tries not to be sick.

For all of his prowess in the workshop, when the door opens Viktor feels neither intelligent or notable or even presentable, gloved hands clutching a folio, the creases in the surface of it betraying both his grip strength and his desire to be literally anywhere else.]

[abraxasnpcs]

[Considering the Free Cities is embroiled in open conflict, it's a testament to Viktor's prominence that he's been seen to at all by someone holding a higher office. Captain Reva Hymn may not quite be a general, but her recent promotion appears to have placed upon her the duties of attending meetings.

Thus, she arrives to speak to the Summoned scientist. From their records, she knows he's a skilled engineer with a small mark in his history regarding certain poor decisions and improper protocol. Rather nervous, isn't he? Poor man.

Reva straightens her uniform and politely doesn't remark on his current state. She extends her hand. He will discover that her grip is remarkably strong.]

Dr. Viktor. I understand you've been kept waiting. You'll have to forgive us, we're short on, well...a lot of things.

[techmaturgy]

[Doctor, without the accompaniment of a family name or house, sounds just as ridiculous as it did the first time. His lips pull tight, somehow making him look more nauseous than he is, and her grip far outmatches his, when he returns her handshake. His hands are gloved, thankfully, so she doesn't have to feel how clammy they must be.]

I appreciate your making the time, when you must have more pressing matters to attend to.

[The war, certainly, though Viktor is not necessarily sympathetic of that. He can be polite, at least.]

But I was hoping we might discuss my work. What you know of it.

[There is a fragment, in his messenger bag. He hopes that he doesn't need to pull it out--hopes that even the hint of what he's saying here will resonate with her, and she can extrapolate. There's a reason he's here, instead of demanding to speak to Klingel, after all. Viktor knows, however, that he won't be so lucky.]

[abraxasnpcs]

[That she does, though Reva considers this as much a part of her duty as the war. The Summoned are important.

Ah. His work. That would be an expected discussion.]

You'll have to be more specific. You've done a lot of work.

[Including, of course, unsanctioned work.]

[techmaturgy]

[Expected, yes, and she's right that he's done a lot of work--but not all of it of interest to the government. His eyebrows pinch together at the realization that yes, he will have to be specific about why he's here, and for the first time it perhaps occurs to him that she might not know where the means to break through Thorne's wards really came from.

All the more reason to straightforward. He wishes, not for the first time, that Sam or Steve were here. Even Jayce, who even with less than a week on Piltover's Council, would certainly know what to do or say.

Better to rip the bandage off, he thinks. Even if it reveals that he knows things he's likely not supposed to know.]

I have reason to believe the recent attack carried out on Thorne's castle made use of my proprietary technology, and theory of the arcana system. Do you know anything about that?

kyle

[techmaturgy]

[Nocwich is a relief, after everything. There's no normalcy, especially given the fighting in the Badlands and the reemergence of the Heralds, but there is always some degree of solace meeting Kyle in person. The fact that they can only do it once a month makes it that much more important, so he clears his schedule, packs up his work, and prepares to stay the weekend.

He doesn't necessarily expect all of the conversation to be pleasant, given recent happenings and the current situation, but it's good to be with someone he cares about. It's good to know he isn't alone.

Viktor arrives first, heading to the same inn as always, asking for the same room. He might have tried to beat Kyle here to make sure he could pay, but he sends a message once he's settled, pulling out a notebook and sitting at the little desk in the room to work while he waits for Kyle to join him.

He expects him to appear in the room abruptly, and resolves not to jump with surprise, when it happens.]

[ushiri]

[ Despite the uncertainty and loss in the wake of the battle, Kyle finds he feels no guilt for leaving Thorne behind for the weekend to be here. This is where he wants to be. It means something that Viktor stays the whole weekend as well, with all that he has troubling him back in the Free Cities and all his neverending work. It doesn't bother him when some of that work inevitably migrates to the bed, sometimes he likes listening to Viktor talk and gesture explanations, and sometimes he likes just to lie on his side to watch him think and scribble. He likes talking in circles and teasing him, and he likes exploring with him. With him Kyle likes doing all the things that normal people can do and laughing about it afterward. He laughs a lot with Viktor, smiles a lot too.

He picked up a little shell on the beach from Borrel, brought it with him today to give to him. A nicer gift than blood, maybe.

Really, though, he should've gotten to the inn first, it's his turn to pay as far as he's concerned. There's also that if they had met at the portals the fact that he would've wanted to make an attempt to be less skittish about being seen together. Not because he's suddenly lost his concerns about Thorne or the Free Cities using it against them someday - though he's had to wonder if they care at this point, but because he wanted to prove that he wasn't so ashamed as he seemed.

Maybe it's for the best, though, that they don't meet there. For unrelated reasons.

He's practiced getting to the inn through the Gray Space enough to have discerned the clearest and quickest path. Within it, he pushes through the familiar wooden grain of the door, feeling it part harmlessly for him as he steps through the threshold. For too long he stands in the cold silence, taking in the room and Viktor's form. People don't look quite right in the Gray Space. It has a way of smoothing out details, they tend to look almost like mannequins or dolls. Viktor is easy enough to recognize even if he didn't know he would be here, though - his posture is unmistakable. Briefly he recalls the one time he saw Viktor in the other reality - black as onyx and almost completely featureless. Only the one forearm is black as metal right now.

Maybe Viktor has the sense of something watching right before Kyle exits the Gray Space. He feels a spark of anxiety as he steps through the tear, the cold, sterile air of the place he left behind following him as it closes again. His head is slightly ducked, and when he lifts his gaze his usually near-black irises are noticeably different. ]

Hi.

[ His tone is rueful, his dark eyes ringed with molton gold and his mouth set in a frown. ]

[techmaturgy]

[Even normal here is abnormal, but this weekend is probably the closest they can possibly get. Viktor's thoughts are still on the Heralds and the fighting in the Badlands and everything else. With Kyle, though, he knows he doesn't have to navigate it alone, and when they're together there's some amount of solace. They can spend time in the inn, they can explore Nocwich, and enjoy each others' company. It helps him forget about things, if only for a time.

It still surprises him, when Kyle emerges from the Gray Space, though Viktor thinks he's getting better at sensing the prickle in the air, if only subconsciously. There's the briefest chill, and Viktor feels the hair on his arms raise in the instant before Kyle steps through the rift.

But it's anticipatory in a good way, and Viktor turns in his chair, ready to welcome him before he realizes immediately that something is wrong. With some effort, he hauls himself to his feet not just so that he can meet Kyle in the middle, but so he can determine what the problem might be more expediently. Kyle won't meet his eyes right away, so Viktor ducks, slightly, to try and catch his gaze.]

What happened? [Something must have, for him to look and sound this way. Viktor reaches for his face, gently forcing the eye contact. It's not difficult to see what has changed, and something clenches in his stomach, something forgotten that threatens to resurface at the sight of it.

He remembers Kyle saying that yellow eyes are demonic. Cursed. This isn't that, exactly, but he imagines it's distressing all the same.] What is this?

[ushiri]

[ Despite his obvious reluctance Kyle still steps toward Viktor when he rises from the chair so that he doesn't need to walk as far. He doesn't resist when he reaches for his face either, closing his eyes only briefly at first touch, holding his breath. No matter the weather, Kyle's skin is always cold when he first arrives.

He meets Viktor's gaze, a flicker of anxiety in his expression before he scowls, though he still welcomes the touch. His hand covers Viktor's, holding it where it is as he tries to answer the question. ]

I don't know. It happened a couple of days ago. Something happened to Jack's powers too, it woke us up - [ the story about Rita growing to the size of a horse and wrecking his bed isn't particularly relevant now, he'll explain all that later... ] - then I noticed this.

[ The gold in his eyes. Not exactly as they were in the other reality, but he's struggling to come up with an alternative explanation. The only other physical change he's ever experienced here is the moth scars across his back and shoulder, also from that time. And there's what happened to Viktor - his gaze shift's to that transformed arm. This is the Singularity's will again. ]

cid

[techmaturgy]

[To Viktor's credit, he locks the door.

And waits, too, until a slightly unreasonable hour. It's a few days after returning from Nocwich, a trip that has emboldened him, slightly, when it comes to his own magic. He knows he shouldn't be doing this--shouldn't be exploring this avenue, given the fact that he knows where it leads, but his own curiosity and the siren call of possibility gets the better of him.

It's not what it was in the emergent future, anyway. Viktor already knows that he lacks the power to achieve what he did as a god, and he can't afford to build another functional Hexcore without inadvertently giving the government more ways to cause harm. But there's nothing wrong with a little...testing. If only to discover the limits.

That is the train of thought that finds Viktor awake in the workshop at some ungodly hour, stripped down to his plain white shorts and harness. He's foregone the bulky leg brace he usually wears in favor of the lighter, slimmer one made of leather and brass fastenings, but the difference is negligible. Viktor is poised over his worktable, one hand extended over his knee, the other poised, ready with a pencil and a blank notebook page. In a tray, scalpels and stray hardware--nuts and bolts and screws.

Certainly a compromising position, should someone turn a key in a lock.]

[judgmentbolts]

[ Now that things seem to have settled down again, Cid's restlessness has returned in force. While he keeps himself busy enough, he's not working such long hours or doing such involved labor that he falls into bed by virtue of pure exhaustion.

So, like Viktor, he's awake at an hour that's barely decent.

It's not unusual for him to visit the workshop in the middle of the night, though Cid tries not to make a habit of it for his own sake as much as Viktor's. It's frequent enough that he doesn't think twice about the locked door, except perhaps for the fleeting hope that Viktor remembered to do it himself this time. He lets himself in and tosses his jacket in the general direction of an empty workbench.

Viktor is here more often than not, and for a moment Cid doesn't fully register anything other than the familiarity of his presence. He's halfway across the room before he stops, then turns. ]

Viktor. [ Cid says, slowly. ] What the fuck are you doing?

[techmaturgy]

[He's not so deep in concentration that he doesn't hear the sound of the door opening, but Viktor is generally slow to move, especially when he needs to get off his wheeled stool, and especially when his hands are otherwise occupied. The sight that greets Cid when he enters the workshop is Viktor with one arm reaching for his crutch, the other desperately attempting to find the sleeve of his button-down shirt. The two items are far enough away from each other that he has to sprawl clumsily in the direction of the thing he wants the most, one leg still caught on the stool.

The tray of tools clatters to the ground, and Viktor looks not unlike some kind of woodland animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.]

Wh--no. Absolutely not.

[It takes him a moment to untangle everything and get his crutch under his arm, though that still leaves him with only one arm in a sleeve, the rest of the shirt flapping around him uselessly. One gets the sense that he wishes to bodily remove Cid from the workshop, but has been waylaid by his own coordination.

He will do his best, however, closing the distance in an attempt to one-handedly shove Cid uselessly back towards the door.]

You do not get free reign of my workshop at all hours of the night. Out. Out!

[judgmentbolts]

[ Normally, he would let Viktor usher him out. It's clearly a sensitive moment and he doesn't necessarily want to make it worse... but the light glints off of the tray that's now clattered to the floor, various implements on full display. If Cid had any doubt as to what Viktor was up to, it's certainly dispelled itself quickly.

He doesn't move. ] I'm sorry — am I meant to imagine that stripping down to your knickers and playing with knives just your idea of a peaceful night in?

> early in september (vash + wolfwood + viktor)

[boltaction]

You really didn't need to come with me.

[ vash says for what feels like one-too-many times since they'd left as he pushes open the workshop's entry door. with magmara's simple directions it had only taken them a few blocks to find the place. the shopkeeper's bell rings out with their arrival, echoing through the space.

he holds the door open long enough for wolfwood to follow him inside before he raises his voice. it hits the bell again as it swings shut. ]

Um, hello?

[shaltnot]

Last time you wandered off, you got shanked by a guy who makes cupcakes for a living.

[ He thinks that's reason enough to impose himself on Vash. Though, honestly, he'd be doing it anyway.

It seems like his gig as a babysitter isn't quite over yet, even if it's mostly a volunteer position at this rate. Wolfwood is still equally curious to what Vash is getting up to when he's not putting himself in danger for everyone else's sake.

He picks wax out of his ear as he follows, feigning disinterest. ]

[techmaturgy]

[Viktor likes to think that he recognizes a headache when it's on a collision course with his current activities--the sound of banter outside his workshop door is not necessarily at that point, but it skirts the line. He does not, however, want to get up from his worktable to lock the door, and the shop is theoretically open, anyway, which means he's willing to hear out the visitors.

There's a system of mirrors, carefully placed along the corners of the workshop so that all Viktor has to do is look up. Though he's not the most personable of business owners, he might generally open a conversation by asking what he can do. Here, however, he pauses, eyebrows furrowing as he swivels around on his wheeled stool.]

You look familiar.

[A Summoned, certainly, but not one he last saw in Cadens.]

[boltaction]

[ vash's gaze alights on viktor when he turns to face them. he keeps his distance; maybe viktor will be too busy and they'll need to make themselves scarce.

still, he offers him a small, introductory wave. ]

Hi Viktor. I'm Vash. We met the last time I was here. I'm-- well I was sent back, and now I'm here again. Except Cadens summoned me this time? Apparently that's out of the ordinary.

[ he can hear himself rambling pointlessly. ]

I rode the Grinning Longhorn in the Feywilds.

[ he knows that will be new and confusing information for wolfwood, but it's nothing he's won't explain to him later if pressed. ]

And we met briefly in the Horizon. I was, uh, digging around in the dirt with Rocket.

— early october

[theidlemaiden]

[ Nothing is going right. But maybe that's just the perfectionist drama queen in Hilda not being pleased with how it feels like she isn't progressing with Geralt's sword. Except she can't rule out the possibility that this is, in fact, going disastrously.

Starting the project had actually taken her some time after initially agreeing to do it. At first she had put it off because of a class assignment that ate up the bulk of her time. Then Khrushid had developed some strange digestive that needed attention. And then a last minute commission that she had to complete while Jesper was at the mine doing his time had cropped up, and well. Let's just say she found plenty of excuses to procrastinate. In reality her mind was reeling with everything that could potentially go wrong before she had even stepped up to a forge and anvil.

But now that she had started, it seemed that those fears were coming true. When she arrived at Viktor's workshop minutes ago she'd been in near tears, clutching several prototype swords and a mechanism that looks like it could be scabbard if it were made of clockwork to her chest. With everything now spilled out haphazardly on the worktable what had been misty eyes are now definitely tears.

Sorry, Viktor. ]

I don't know why I said yes to doing this! I don't know what I'm doing.

[techmaturgy]

[Viktor is familiar with Hilda's wavering confidence in herself, by now, especially when it comes to design projects. He's here to support her and provide advice when she needs if, even if the project in question is not something he'd undertake. When she shows up in near-tears, that goes double. He welcomes her inside, shows her where she can put her work, and starts thinking about what he can do to fix this.]

Start at the beginning.

[He surveys the prototypes and pieces on the worktable, arms folded and eyebrows furrowed in thought.]

What are you doing?

[theidlemaiden]

[ Viktor's calm demeanor has never failed to bring a steadiness to her usually sporadic energy and right now isn't an exception. It quiets her tears some only because speaking while crying isn't the most pleasant experience. ]

During the dream, that god version of me made a really impressive sword for Geralt. And he showed up at Cyprian's workshop to ask if I could make it for him again.

[ She sniffles, the weight of the responsibility bearing down her again. ]

I wasn't sure I could do it at first but it didn't feel right to just let someone else do it. And then I got too ambitious because he carries his sword so exposed that it didn't feel right to just make him a sword without a sheath.

[ At that she motions towards her own designs rolled out in front of him. Ideally she wants to make something that easily unlock and close over the blade the moment Geralt goes to draw or sheath it. That of course is easier said than done as is evidenced by her own attempt at making it.

Fresh tears well in her eyes. ]

But now I think I'm in over my head.

[techmaturgy]

[Viktor lets her get it all off her chest--he keeps his arms folded and nods along, taking it all in and allowing her to blow off some steam in the process. That's the hope, anyway. He can see where her upset is coming from. Reproducing something exactly as it was in the imagined future, without the power that they had, was always going to be difficult work.]

It doesn't seem that far gone.

[As in, he's sure they can make something work with the prototypes she's developed so far, especially now that she's brought it to him. He doesn't necessarily want to work on a sword, but he does want to help Hilda.]

Can you show me the mechanism?

~End fo September / early October

[judgmentbolts]

[ The workshop is quiet this time of evening, save for the clink of metal and the occasional huff of triumph or irritation. When they aren't arguing, he and Viktor work together with little fuss.

Above him, Viktor's automation hangs from the ceiling, held motionless by a number of straps. Cid is sitting on the edge of a raised platform; re-attaching the various mechanisms in one of the arms while Viktor works on the head. He's quiet for the most part, focused on the work, but when the occasional question springs to mind, he asks without any preamble. ]

What I don't understand is how it operates — how it thinks. [ For lack of a better word. Cid hasn't had any trouble catching himself up with the level of ordinary technology in Abraxas, to the point that he's been able to work on some of his own creations... but even New Magic is still somewhat obtuse to him at times. He understands what it is and how to use it for the purposes of invention, but not the why of it, and certainly not all of the wider applications. It's as if magic is simply a black box that can do whatever is needed with the right application. ]

[techmaturgy]

[It's nice to be working on something together, for once, instead of walking in on Cid in his workshop at an ungodly hour. That has him in a better mood than most nights, even if advancing the automaton often feels like he's going around in circles. He's upgraded nearly everything about it--synapses, actuators, the little arcana symbols inscribed within its chassis--in the year since its debut, but he still hasn't found a way to animate it outside of binding Hilda's spell.

A source of frustration to him, as he's sure Cid can tell. Still, it's not going to stop him from talking about it.]

Well, it doesn't...think, not the way a sentient creature might.

[He'd never been able to accomplish true sentience, even with centuries to do so. Viktor is determined to get it right, this time.]

Right now, it's animated by a spell that binds to the chassis and carries out simple instruction. I am attempting to find a way for that spell to...auto-generate, so that I no longer need to rely on the caster.

[judgmentbolts]

[ Cid nods. That much he understands to a degree; much like the creations of the fallen, the thing is only capable of following orders and making the very finite decisions involved in that process.

A spell makes sense, as do its limitations. A part of the reason he'd decided on his latest project was just such a limitation; though he can hardly account for something as complex as this, needing a proper caster to refresh one's spellwork is frustrating.

He wipes a bit of grease off on his trousers and sits up enough to stretch and roll his shoulder. ]

What have you come up with so far? [ He inclines his head. ] Perhaps if you talk through it, a solution will present itself.

[ A common concept for engineers. Cid isn't quite a layman, but explaining the problem to someone who doesn't have the same in-depth knowledge in a particular field can sometimes help one untangle a snare — Cid has done it himself a number of times. ]

[techmaturgy]

[He wants the automaton to function on its own--but the truth is that tying its animation to Hilda's specific spell has created a situation where the Free Cities government can't use it towards their own ends. That's where his conflict lies, between the desire to relieve Hilda of this responsibility, and the knowledge that Cadens has misused his work once, and very little will stop them from doing it again.

But he is a scientist, and despite the risks, he cannot bring himself to stop here. Perhaps, with Cid's help, they can safeguard the automaton against the military, and have it auto-generate the spell. That's what this is about, he tells himself.]

Likely an enchantment on the power source itself.

[He offers a shrug. It sounds obvious to him, but it's proven difficult, given the lack of advanced magical knowledge in the Free Cities. That level of enchantment simply isn't found here, and his book from Kell only covers the basics.]

I need to dissect the elements of Hilda's spell. If I hadn't destroyed the Hexcore, that's what I would use to reproduce it.

[And he can't very well build that again.]