bakerstreet | Shipping Picture ♡ ｐｒｏｍｐｔｓ

( some prefs here, fully up to date with s2 )

[ 1, 2, 3, 4 / cool with s1 or s2! ]

( 👀 would you prefer a) something set pre-show where they've ended up in bar in zaun possibly after some big success or b) s2 jayce gets punted through the multiverse to one of those timelines where they never meet and jayce is looking for him ~~possibly finding him in a bar in zaun idk I'm stuck on that pic~~ )

[ S2 Jayce finding Viktor in a bar in Zaun in a timeline they never met SLAPS though and that would be amazing lmao ]

[ Something goes wrong. He's not where he's supposed to be.

The hammer's gone missing too, he'd lost hold of it at some point while being transported atom by atom, ripped apart and reformed on some unfamiliar, dirty street. In Zaun. He stumbles around aimlessly for what feels like at least an hour. People ignore him at first. He catches another look at himself in a muddy puddle, and maybe it's good that he's unrecognizable. Someone takes his coat after he drops it in the gutter. He needs to find his hammer, or at least he decides he has to, and along the way he fits in little pieces of a puzzle he didn't realize he was circling until it smacks him right in the face - like, fittingly, a goddamn hammer.

There's no Hexgate, standing tall and proud amongst Piltover's skyline. There are other smaller details too. Thiings that don't quite line up with what he knows - though at this point what he knows feels subjective. The headaches slow him down, flashes of that ruined city superimpose themselves on this relatively thriving one. But it feels like he's following something. A small pulse, like a heartbeat, and it keeps him on his feet long enough to half stumble into a bar.

He knows, just before he catches sight of a familiar, hunched silhouette, what it's been leading him to. ]

Viktor?

[ Whether or not the man in question notices the tall, disheveled looking man saying his name, other patrons certainly do. There's looks passed between a couple of them and the bartender, a silent discussion happening over whether or not they might need to throw this bum back onto the street in a second. ]

[ Viktor only indulges occasionally, but there are some days when one simply needs to have a drink at the terrible local bar.

It's been a long day. He'd finalized a design for a factory air purifier some months ago, but getting it made has been more difficult than he anticipated. He has the bulk of it sitting in his workshop -- otherwise known as, his bedroom but the bed is largely an afterthought and the space is entirely taken up by inventions -- but materials for the chemical filter are proving hard to come by. He's had to seek out every trader in the undercity, make a few trips up to Piltover, work on other projects while he waits and hope he can sell enough of them to scrape up enough money for his rent. Today, he had made the long trip from the entresol to Piltover again. His leg hurts, his back hurts, and he wants a drink, thank you very much.

He's just taken his first sip of anise-flavored sweetmilk when a man all but barges into the bar and says his name.

Viktor trades a look with the bartender. The bartender shrugs at him. Viktor makes a little ehhh gesture. He'll deal with it. Maybe? ]

I do hope you are not here to rob me. You should have waited until I passed by a dark alley, your chances would have been much better.

[ It comes out dryer than the Shurima desert. There's-- almost a spark of recognition, like Viktor saw the man a long time ago, but doesn't recall where. Despite his rough look, everything about him screams Piltover; the tanned skin, the broad set of his shoulders. And yet, he looks like he's been living in a box for the past year. An interesting contradiction. ]

[ There might as well only be the two of them in the bar for the way Jayce stares for a long moment. Grime covered and unshaven as he is, his emotions display clearly as they flicker from one to the next: recognition, disbelief, pained disbelief, and the slow creep of horror, like the bile rising in the back of his throat. ]

I - what?

[ Now, he looks at the man before him like he's suddenly sprouted a second head. Complete bewilderment. It's then that he seems to finally acknowledge the other people around them, who - having taken some cue from Viktor, are doing their best to mostly ignore whatever-this-is that's interrupting their relative peaceful night. It's a mistake to do so - a man makes eye contact with him and the world tilts, sending him back into that nightmare with a sharp pain in his head. He takes a step forward, the orthosis on his injured leg creaking.

This is a mistake, he hears his own voice insist. Not like this - ]

- I'm sorry. [ He mumbles in haste, shaking his head and taking one step back, prying himself away. The door is only a few more steps away.

Jayce walks back out onto the street, and vomits. ]

[ Well. How unexpected.

Viktor watches the man go, trades another baffled glance with the bartender, and spends a long moment weighing up whether or not he should make this his problem. The man looks like a homeless drunk; the fact that he got Viktor's name right really doesn't count for much. He probably heard it from a parts trader. The confusing part about all of this is the apology.

That wasn't just a whoops I am drunk and/or high sorry for inconveniencing you. There was a wealth of emotion behind that word.

Against his better judgment, Viktor winds up pursuing him. It's late enough at night that even most of the Lanes is asleep, and the tap of his cane is loud against the cobblestones. He bypasses some detritus from a shimmer addict, skirts around a pile of crates stacked up near the door, and comes to stand next to the man, frowning down at him. Once he's done vomiting, Viktor tugs a handkerchief out of his pocket; it's seen better days, but it's clean. He holds it out in offering, in case the drunk wants to wipe his mouth. ]

I didn't realize my little robbery joke was that bad.

[ His voice is light. A tiny bit curious. He should write this off as a stupid encounter and just make his way home, it's not like he doesn't have a million things to do. But he's just buzzed enough on sweetmilk to entertain ridiculous situations. ]

Do you need medical assistance? I am not a doctor, but I can at least put you on your side if you pass out.

[ He registers the sound approaching from behind, though it doesn't compute that he'd be followed outside, not until there's a handkerchief near his face and that familiar voice pipes up again. It strikes at the guilt festering in his chest, the wrongness of the scenario, and a painful, unwanted longing that started that last time they saw each other, when Viktor walked out.

That day feels like decades ago now.

He takes the handkerchief laughs, in spite of everything - or because of everything, a harsh little sound more like a cough. He's only just catching up on something else - ]

You have no idea who I am, do you? [ Spoken in wonder, and he forces himself to straighten, finds the wall behind his back and leans against it, staring at the man in front of him like some unfathomable puzzle. It's only for a second, though - he doesn't seem to need an answer to that. This wasn't where he was supposed to have been sent, and he needs to get back there.

A pause, and he rolls back his sleeve, revealing the gem shard embedded in the skin at his wrist, the tissue around it scarred and infected. He gives this version of his partner an imploring look, desperate: ]

I don't need a doctor - but I need your help.

[ To get back to where he's supposed to be. To make good on his promise. ]

[ Viktor just narrows his eyes dubiously. No, he does not know who you are, mysterious man. He's flattered (not really) that he's been sought out by some stranger, but he prefers his mysteries of the scientific nature, not of the interpersonal nature.

He's this close to excusing himself politely (or rudely, whichever works best), when the man goes ahead and reveals--

That.

Viktor startles, and leans in closer to get a look. The injury this man has is unlike anything he's seen before. A gem is embedded in his wrist, glowing blue, some sort of rune etched into the surface. The skin around it is scarred, and even more mysteriously, some spiked organic pattern is discoloring the skin. He goes to touch, thin fingers almost grazing the gem, before he thinks better of it, and draws back. ]

Well-- extraction of the foreign material would be somewhat risky considering its close placement to several major veins. I cannot even begin to guess what the infection is.

[ All of a sudden, he's incredibly invested. Damn it. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep, and work on something to sell tomorrow so he can pay his rent. ]

Surgical removal of the entire hand may be your only option down here. We are not exactly swimming in acclaimed surgeons. [ Unless? ] Unless, you wanted help of an entirely different variety?

[ It's satisfying, in a distant sort of way - considering his current state, to watch Viktor react, to see the moment that he's hooked him. He has to tread carefully, somehow, but - it's a small, familiar comfort.

Jayce doesn't try to pull away when those fingers very nearly touch the gem's surface, although he does roll his sleeve back down and lower his arm the moment Viktor mentions removal. The possibly homeless man suffering from a foreign infection does not want the thing possibly causing the infection removed, that much is clear by his reaction.

Viktor course corrects quickly, so he doesn't bother verbally responding to that part. He doesn't need a doctor, or a surgeon - ]

I need a lab. [ Their lab, ideally. Or at least a pen and paper to write everything down, because his head feels like it's splitting apart again, like it might crack open and every horror from the past few weeks might come spilling out onto the street. Making eye contact with Viktor is difficult enough as it is, so he stares down at the handkerchief instead, still clutched in his opposite hand. Although - ]

If you can get me back to Piltover - [ although, now he looks up with a bewildered expression, as though this single thought is somehow more bizarre than anything else going on right now - and with a familiarity in his tone that likely makes no sense: ] What are you doing down here?

[ Viktor's initial response is a sideways glance, an uncertain slant to his mouth. ]

I live here, despite whatever erroneous information you may have received.

[ Is there somebody going around saying he lives in Piltover? What a bizarre notion; Viktor can't begin to grasp what benefit such a lie might have. And there's no way this man came up with that assumption on his own. Underfed and sallow, Viktor is the very picture of uncertain undercity living.

There is a world of things that could go wrong if he invites this man back to his lab. For all he knows, he could be a thief wanting to clear out the very few possessions he has. But the strange gem embedded in his wrist is real, and it would be a very strange thing to do to oneself just to gain entry to people's homes. Whatever problem this man is having, it's genuine.

And why does he sound like he knows Viktor? That may be an even bigger mystery. ]

I have a lab you can use.

[ It comes out more decisive than he feels, but if nothing else, he's obscenely curious now. And while such a thing may have killed the cat, it's Viktor's lifeblood. ]

It's not much, and I have no idea what tools you think you need, but it's something. [ He trusts that the man has gotten enough of a hold of himself that he can walk, so, Viktor sets off, trusting that he'll be followed. He adds a dry: ] And on the way there, perhaps you can give me your name, since you mysteriously already know mine.

[ The perplexed expression remains with that answer, and he stews on it until Viktor makes his offer. Alright. This, he can work with. It's not really their lab he needs anyway. It's Viktor's mind, their partnership -

- it twists in his stomach again, that guilt. He closes his eyes tight, with a nod. Holds them closed for too long, because he starts to hear Viktor's uneven gait on the cobblestones, and he almost stumbles over his own feet catching up. ]

- it's Jayce. [ he answers quietly, walking a pace or two behind him - waiting, maybe, for some spark of recognition from the name. It's probably better if there's none, he decides. But - he knows he's going to have to explain sooner rather than later. He's never been great at lying. He'd just like to get his foot in the literal door before Viktor changes his mind and decides he's completely out of his mind. He shifts the subject back around, keeping his gaze fixed on the back of Viktor's head. ]

What about the Academy?

[ The name seems to ring a quiet little bell somewhere in the back of his mind; Viktor frowns studiously as they walk, trying to wrack his memory. Luckily, his apartment isn't far from the Lanes themselves, though it would be impossible for an outsider to find among the twisting streets and buildings practically on top of each other.

Nobody bothers them on the walk; a miracle in of itself. It's late enough that the more desperate souls are usually out trying to pick the pocket of anybody that looks like they have two coins to rub together, but Viktor's best defense has always been looking exactly as poor as he is, and Jayce-- well, he doesn't look like someone you'd want to risk pissing off. So. It's a good defense.

He shoots Jayce a baffled look over his shoulder. ]

What about the Academy?

[ But the question sparks something, and--

Ah. ]

Jayce. [ Viktor repeats the name with a thoughtful hum. ] No, I remember now. You were in my thermodynamics class. You have a very distinctive face. We might have met sooner or later, I suppose, but I dropped out. [ He shrugs, a fluid movement. ] I'm sure I wasn't missed. What a coincidence that we ran into each other here.

[ Again, his reaction is to appear dumbfounded. Particularly at I dropped out. He's piecing more of the puzzle together, slowly. If it's possible everything went the same back then, except Viktor hadn't walked in that night, that lowest point in his life -

Viktor's companion goes silent again, just a pair of heavy footfalls behind him as they wind their way through the streets. Jayce, completely unfamiliar with the territory, has no idea where they are, and isn't in the right state of mind to pay attention to any landmarks. ]

I really don't think it is. [ he says quietly to that last part. A coincidence. Probably an ominous thing to say, walking with a stranger down dark streets. But now that he's neither puking or demanding anything, he just sounds sad. Even more so when he asks, almost hesitantly: ]

Why did you drop out?

I would tell you, but I notice that I'm giving quite a lot of answers without getting any in return.

[ Viktor's tone is light, but with an undercurrent of the natural distrust of any dyed-in-the-wool Zaunute. If it's no coincidence, according to Jayce, then he has real reason to be suspicious, and he's going to exercise that right, thank you very much.

It's not long before they come to Viktor's apartment, a narrow door set into the lower level of a haphazard-looking building. On one side, an alley trails into darkness, newspaper rotting in puddles and posters stripping off the walls. On the other side, a bar is just starting to close up, protesting customers getting sternly herded out into the street. Viktor unlocks the door, but before he opens it, he glances back at Jayce, measuring. ]

How about this? I'll answer your bizarre questions, if you answer mine. An even trade.

[ The apartment, once unlocked, is cramped. Little more than two rooms, the main room is a combination kitchen and lounge, stacked with old books on every wall, mismatched furniture. The only thing that seems to be of any importance in the kitchen is a hot water kettle. ]

There was a chemical spill down here. [ Viktor finally answers, biting back a sigh. ] A massive one. Nobody from Piltover was willing to help, and dozens were dying by the day. I couldn't... sit by and watch without doing anything. The longer I was away from the Academy, the longer I felt like it had been a waste of time, so. [ He shrugs. ] I stayed. Will you tell me how you ended up with that gem embedded in your arm?

[ That sets him silent again. So much of him wants to spill out the truth to Viktor - any version of him, apparently. At their best, that's what they do - unravel what's supposed to be impossible. It was hard, sometimes, to remember what his life was before he had Viktor, this partnership he never imagined having for himself. He hadn't been lonely back then - but that was before he knew what could be missing. And now -

He almost runs into Viktor when they reach the apartment, stopping short as he unlocks the door.

Jayce gives him a grimace and a nod. He steps inside behind him, immediately feeling too large and out of place here - an intruder. Curiosity takes hold next, though, and he scans the room, taking in the little details of Viktor's life here as he listens to the explanation with a stab of guilt. He'd always understood Viktor's desire to help the people here, but - to Jayce the Undercity's problems were always abstract and distant. He's not sure he gets it much better even now.

It wasn't a waste, he wants to argue, and instead just stands there, still trying to wrap his head around some way to answer that question. He pulls in a breath, bracing himself. ]

This... crystal - [ he holds his wrist, looking down at it ] - is the basis of Hextech. [ The word leaves his tongue and causes an immediate, painful flash like a warning - threatening to transport him somewhere else. He grits his teeth and stares at a stack of books behind Viktor. ]

Harnessing magic with science, everything suddenly becomes possible - [ His gaze shifts to Viktor's face again, suddenly imploring. ]

There's a version of all of this where you don't drop out of the Academy. Where we meet and - you give this to me.

[ Viktor's halfway into opening his bedroom/lab door when Jayce... goes and says all of that. He pauses, face set, and slowly closes the door again. Hand still on the doorknob. A withering stare of the kind that only someone with a very sharp face and massive eyebags can give. ]

You're high. Or delusional.

[ Great! He invited a crazy person back to his apartment!

Well, he may be crazy, but he does have a very real problem. The gem set in his wrist and the strange infection around it is real, and Viktor really is itching to help. He's already formed half a dozen theories about irradiated minerals from the chemical run-off here, or bacteria transfer, or-- the point is, he's interested.

Except Jayce is now spouting off made up words and talking about magic and alternate timelines, the sort of stuff only found in ambitious science fiction books (the type that Viktor secretly has a weakness for). Now, Viktor will grant him that harnessing magic with science almost certainly is possible, but it all feels a bit. Bizarre. The way Jayce seems to feel like he knows him, the sheer familiarity in his gaze.

Viktor bites back a sigh, and reluctantly swings his lab/bedroom door open again. The only concession to it being a bedroom is the narrow bed in one corner; the multiple desks and racks of shelving are covered in prototypes and current projects, the walls papered with equations and theories. In the current place of honor is a finely made mechanical leg, lit by a lamp and surrounded by tools. ]

But you do still need help. Fine. Come in. [ It's a tiny bit grudging. ] But do not break anything.

Edited 2024-12-10 03:54 (UTC)

[ He's not sure what he was expecting. He's well aware that what he's saying sounds completely insane.

(he didn't think anything could hurt as bad as what he discovered in that corrupted world - but this rejection? breaks his heart just a little bit)

He doesn't make it past the threshold of the lab/bedroom, eyeing everything within the even smaller room from there. His fingers itch to go through all the papers, to examine those prototypes and unfinished works. But he's stuck where he stands, and asks, defeated: ]

Do you... have a bathroom I can use first?

[ Preferably one with a window large enough for him to climb out of. ]

Please.

[ Viktor is not typically in the habit of taking back his sharp words, but when Jayce seems to just slump, Viktor... deflates a little.

Largely, he's just baffled. He would expect a drunk or high person to act differently in response to that accusation, and somebody currently suffering a mental break would insist that they were speaking the truth. Jayce, on the other hand, looks so quietly defeated that Viktor starts to feel bad for him. And then he starts feeling a little guilty.

He clucks his tongue in self-rebuke, lips in an uneven slant, expression softening. ]

You're the worst liar I've ever seen. If you actually do need the bathroom, it's over there. [ He tips his chin to a nearby door. No, there is not a window large enough to crawl out of. Unfortunately. ] Otherwise, come in, Jayce. I wouldn't feel right letting you leave without at least trying to help.

[ He steps into his bedroom-slash-lab, and starts clearing a space on the desk. He pulls out a chair, looking expectant. ]

Sit. Bring your injury under the light, and we'll see what we can do.

[ And then he can just... quietly continue to question those insane claims. ]

[ His mouth forms a line, and he hesitates again. This time because he has not seen a bathroom in (x ungodly amount of time) and - divorced from a hasty escape plan - he's tempted by the promise of clean, hot water. Or even just lukewarm water.

The sudden shift in Viktor's demeanor - an opening, he hopes, has him tabling that desire after a moment's struggle, and he finally steps forward, absently realizing he's never been in living quarters this small - even his old flat back when he was in the Academy would have been enormous compared to this. He sits with that odd discomfort, dropping heavily into the chair and slowly bringing his wrist forward onto the desk as instructed, rolling his sleeve back again. ]

It's not an injury. [ His gaze flicks to Viktor, needing to make that clear. His leg is injured, but - he's much more reluctant to show Viktor that mess, and would rather just not think about it at all.

Under the light the facets of the crystal gleam, though it remains inert. ]

Do you recognize this? [ The rune carved into the stone - he traces it briefly with his finger to indicate what he means, doubt creeping into his voice this time. ]

[ Viktor drags a chair closer so that he can sit, almost shoulder to shoulder with Jayce, dragging a lamp over. Under the light, he can clearly see the details -- the rough cut of the gem, and the strange shape carved into it. The infection looks even more luridly colored under lamplight, a web set into olive skin. ]

I'm sorry, but I do not.

[ Viktor sounds a little reluctant to admit that there's something in the world he doesn't know, especially when it may be so vital to this mystery. ]

I don't even recognize the type of crystal, though geology is admittedly not my area of expertise. [ A pause, and then: ] I'm going to touch your wrist. Please alert me if I do something wrong.

[ With that, Viktor takes Jayce's hand in both of his, and starts palpating the infection curiously, testing to see if there's unnatural heat or texture. He doesn't dare touch the crystal itself, certain it would cause significant pain -- the thing is embedded in his skin, after all. ]

The underlying structure of your wrist must be intact, since your hand is not discolored and you can obviously move it. That means extraction would simpler than I anticipated. [ He frowns. ] Does the sigil mean something? How did this even happen? You did not simply fall on it.

Edited 2024-12-12 01:34 (UTC)

[ He makes a wordless noise of consent as Viktor takes his hand, allowing him to manipulate it as he pleases. There's no indication of pain from him, he gives no indication of the way that touch seems to make his skin buzz - or the sudden awareness of how close they are, and how much he must stink.

As Viktor's fingers travel a path to avoid the crystal, it glows slightly in response, sending static-like sparks into the air. ]

It's a rune. They can be used in a sequence for different functions, this one is for acceleration... [ Why this one, he can't really say. He frowns again. ]

... and I already told you how it happened.

[ You give this to me. He sighs, frustrated, wishing there was some magic keyword, something he could say to make this sound less insane. He could try to offer something about Viktor's past, something no one else knows - but truthfully? Viktor never told him much, and this Viktor's history might not even line up... ]

[ Viktor makes a noise that's somewhere between clicking his tongue, and biting back a laugh. ]

Yes. I gave it to you. I was hoping that you might give me a different answer this time, but you really are sticking to this story.

[ He blows out a sigh through his nose, and leans in closer, peering at the reflection of light in the rune. ]

Well, I suppose I do have a strange sensation that I can trust you, so. [ He says it as matter-as-fast as one might discuss the latest scientific techniques. ] To summarize, this is a stone with inherent magic that we can harness through science by way of runic sequences, and in a timeline where we met at the Academy, I gave this to you. I cannot begin to imagine what I was thinking by embedding it into your wrist, but I must have had my reasons.

[ It all sounds absolutely insane, but... Jayce has stuck to his story so far. He's not incoherent, he's not slurring. There may be dried blood on him, and he may be in serious need of a shower and a trim, but he's extremely lucid, and the details haven't changed. So. Viktor can only assume he really is telling the truth. A bizarre, absolutely bonkers, strangely fascinating truth. ]

You said you wanted a lab; my fussing aside, what did you plan to do? Do I dare hope that you have some sort of portable device that can harness this magic?

[ He gives Viktor a funny look when he starts with all that, unable to decide whether or not he's teasing about trusting him - and he's struck with a sense of deja vu, remembering the first time they met. ]

Maybe you were worried I'd drop it. Or fall on it. [ This is pointed, though grumbled mostly to himself. But he shoots Viktor a cautiously hopeful look again now that he seems to be taking Jayce and his story more seriously than a minute ago. His shoulders slump at the next question, though - ]

No. Not really. [ He gives a small, hopeless huff and chews on his lip. His first instinct was to get into a workspace with Viktor but, really, it's the anomaly he needs - and there's no hexgates in this world. There's not any hextech - except for his hammer, wherever the hell that landed. He looks at his wrist again. ] Look, I'm sorry to... dump all this on you.

[ He glances at the mechanical leg, wondering who it's meant for - if Viktor actually might be more content here in this tiny space, doing work that isn't tied up by investors and Piltover's council. Work that isn't poisoning everything - ]

I just - I need to get back, somehow.

Edited 2024-12-13 05:12 (UTC)

Shipping Picture ♡ ｐｒｏｍｐｔｓ

jayce talis | arcane

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s2 spoilers don't dead open inside

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same player! lmk if this works, calling it post-torment universe experience pre-finale

having two journals for s1 and s2, you 🤝 me

sometimes you gotta do it, also cw for emetophobics

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btw ty for rolling with my comedy antics, this is v fun so far

jayce is such a sad wet dog right now and I love it lmao

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