[ well a lot just happened in the past 30 seconds so it takes him a beat to realize that he is now suddenly in this creepy forest and is now being addressed like this - though for the moment he just looks at him semi-suspiciously. he has said his name in an italicized way which implies perhaps his brain is less soupy but he doesn't have confirmation of that yet. ]
your lanterns seem to really be the only thing that's warm, here, and even then it's not a lot. it makes the darkness creep away just a little, but... it's just the two of you, lost together. man standing on a path in a creepy forest. ]
[Confused, a little guilty, he reaches up to touch his temple. The brain feels mushy, but not soupy anymore, thankfully. His hand falls down to his neck afterward, brushing the stupid ass collar there. WHY DOES THIS STAY? Go away.]
It's me...
[He suddenly seems to realize those aren't the only weird things, and he raises his lantern to glance around them.]
[ Don't feel guilty over the boy who gets mad at you for things you did in a dream!! frowning a bit and reaching over like he's going to touch viktor's collar as well, pausing right before he touches it. ]
Good. Come on. We should probably walk and talk.
[ because, you know. creepy forest. he doesn't have a fancy bird to tell him there's a left and a right so he'll ... just start walkin'.]
to the left, the pathway is a dirt one that starts to slowly change into stone at the very edge of where your lantern light casts. to the right, there's just more dirt. both patches have tree roots gnarled across the ground. the silence of the forest around you almost hurts your ears. the smell of this place is just... wrong. it's like rot, and death, but from a distance. like walking through a graveyard.
does it even matter where you go? has it ever mattered? what even matters, when everywhere you go, people die? people you care about. ]
[No, he will. His hand lowers as if to make room, and even if Lucien doesn't touch it, that's fine. He's too worried it might somehow just poison Lucien despite Lucien having one, too.
He follows after through the foggy, too quiet forest. It makes him have to lower his voice even more, like a whisper is too loud.]
...Yes. Though I'm assuming... we won't be after this is all over.
[WELL, it's touch week, and also this fucking place is the worst, so he just reaches out to grab a hold of Lucien's hand. Idk how he does this if he still has a staff plus a lantern, but it's happening.]
Doubtful. Try and keep a hold of all of your limbs, you need as many of them as possible, eh?
[ he'll have to figure it out because yeah his hand is taken and lucien is squeezing possibly a little too tightly. he'll look both ways and then start heading left. stone means some sort of structure, maybe? there's no other way to make a decision here. ]
down into the dark, into the worst of the shadows. you hold onto each other, and that's good. that's bracing. the two of you, against the world that hates you. the world that has done its best to drag you down into the muck, spit on you, kick dirt in your face. you've both had such a hard time of it, haven't you? unwanted, used. tools for other people, short, flickering lives of people desperate to live, to have something to live for.
do you deserve life? do you deserve everything the world has to offer?
the purple fog continues to swirl around your ankles. it feels cold, but it's raised no higher, at the very least. the longer you go, the more it feels like none of this is worth it. but the lantern's flickering light is warm. it's enough.
you hear noises, down the path. scratching. snuffling.]
[Dumb, anxious idiod. Viktor rubs the hand with his thumb, doing a descent attempt keeping up.
The weight of the forest ends up making him return the squeeze. It's almost like nothing has changed in the back of his mind, always asking himself that same question now. Does he deserve life? Does he deserve life?
The noise ahead causes his heels to dig ever so slightly in. He's still going forward, but wants Lucien to slow down. Rather than raising the lantern, he lowers it a bit behind him.] ...Lucien. [It's a nervous whisper of warning.
USE ONE OF YOUR STUPID NINE EYES, CAN YOU SEE WHAT THAT IS]
[ there's a curl of anger that's starting to rise against the intrusive thoughts - a spite, argumentative part. Deserve? What does deserve have to do with it? It's a debt owed. There's not a question. The world will pay.
it's a distracting enough argument in his own head he does almost miss the noises - startingly a bit when viktor whispers at him. ]
... I hear it.
[ he'll slow down, partially because he has to because he is attached by the hand - but with the noise he'll (sadly) let go - reaching for his dagger instead. if he uses his terrible mundane eyes in his face can he see if anything is moving? ]
[ it's like looking over a cliff, right, both of you - what comes next, you don't know. you're afraid of it. the collar feels tight - you've had it your whole life, that collar (lucien, the way you were nothing and now you're on the cusp of something that feels too big for you but you can't stop now, and viktor, knowing that the end was creeping closer and closer and that you could change the world if you just had a little bit more time) and it's... it's a little hard to breathe. the fog is so dense, in your lungs.
funny you mention the nine eyes - you can see them. both of you, you can see red eyes flickering in and out. they all watch you, blinking in and out, whispering indistinct. you see the sparking, crackling form of something magical, blue, elemental and spirit magic fused together. and then, lucien brings out the dagger and they all go silent at once. the eyes vanish. the magic that you spent so long perfecting, melting away.
in front of the two of them, instead, the fog melts away, and you face this. it's an aurochs - tall, certainly larger than both of you, but it is not particularly huge. it stares at you through its white, bright eyes. it does not move far - only once, enough to take a shuddery, pained breath. ]
Look, Viktor does not have to go through memshare week to feel the tight drop of discomfort from seeing red eyes. He brings the staff forward after Lucien lets go, gritting his teeth against the twist in his stomach when the area lights up with magic.
It's too silent when they all vanish. He's holding his breath.
But what comes through the fog isn't what he's expecting at all. He takes half a step back, then slowly... raises the lantern. The fuck is that?]
[ they shouldn't have let these two go together their traumas are too similar so it's just doubly as bad. they should be banned from being within 500 feet of each other.
lucien takes a full step back when the eyes appear (a voice dripping with jovial charm: `oh! you thought you were free? that's cute. hilarious, actually.` ) - eyes sliding over to viktor when the blue light appears as well. but as they vanish, he shoves any feeling he has about that harshly over to the side. time for that bullshit later. flipping the dagger in his hand, dropping into stance. ]
Don't worry your pretty little head about it.
[ a monster. he knows what to do with those. then he's darting off - he will just straight up stab this thing, that seems like the correct move here. ]
it seems like it... isn't in good shape. like maybe it was something alive, at some point. but it's degraded. it's rotting away. just like you, just like you, just like you. something infected it. something from a life in a city that was polluted to the gills, something from a journal that spoke to you in harsh, dissonant whispers. it's dying.
but it refuses to die without a fight.
it pulls itself up to its feet, creaking, groaning - there's the sound of something crying. it moves like it's on puppet strings, like its limbs are broken and shouldn't be able to carry it forward. but before it can do a whole lot, lucien slides in to slice it open. it's not hard to do, but when he stabs it - something purplish and gooey gushes out of the wound, all over lucien. it smells like rot, decay. it's intense, and it might make you gag. but you injured it!
it tries very hard to gore him with a horn, but mostly misses, grazing his side. the sound it makes is pathetic. it sounds... it sort of sounds like... someone you knew? you can't quite put your finger on it, lucien, but it feels like you've heard the sound.
viktor, on the other hand, doesn't see a monster. instead, he watches lucien stab someone familiar right through the heart. wuh-oh.]
[STOP THIS, it looked hurt. If anyone here could tell when something looked like it was scratching at death's door, it'd be him. It's hard to decide whether it should be put out of its misery, or if, maybe just if, it could be saved. Like Rio.
That's what it reminds him of. Rio. The sweet, giant salamander now bobbing in the stasis tank in Singed's lab, barely alive, rotted, eyes white, veins full of Shimmer.
He forces the thoughts out of his mind and brings the staff up in front of him, intent to try casting, but then... it's not Rio. It's not even an auroch anymore. He startles in horror as it becomes someone else right as Lucien dives in.]
Jayce!!
[NO?! The immediacy in which he gives up on coherency and runs, stumbling at first, full-force toward the thing.]
[ the smell of rot and decay doesn't slow him, he'd be a badly trained blood hunter if it did, but the movement - the pathetic empty nature of it does. his hand shakes before he forcibly stops it, in time to try and dodge the horn coming for his side.
sure, it probably does sound like someone he knew. a lot of dying sounds the same. terror and pain makes all animals alike. he shakes his arm free of the gunk to try and take another stab at it before he hears the shouting.
the name viktor says is only slightly familiar, but he does remember hearing it - and he whips his head around to see if he can spot what exactly the fucking issue is. Look he's fought with plenty of casters before, and knows exactly where they should be on a battlefield - and it's definitely not running full-tilt towards the deadly part of the monster. ]
Fuck-- Back up!
[ he'll try and grab this thing by one of the horns to physically haul its head to the side, distract it, taking another stab with the dagger. if only to get it stop making that sound. ]
[the worst thing is that viktor gets to see jayce make eye contact with him, as he dies. he gurgles, the nasty and wet sound of someone choking on blood, lungs filled with it. it leaks from his mouth. purple, and thick, like sludge. he stares you in the eye, viktor, and you swear you can hear him asking you why. why did you let this happen?
and then, like it was never him at all, it's a monster again. a wailing, horrible ram-like creature, turning its head and opening its mouth. its jaw falls open, and a blast of that horrible purple darkness shoots like a concentrated beam to knock viktor back. it hits him, but with a [7] it might not be enough to knock him away. still. when it does, it leaves streaks of deep purple across his face and neck, leaves those areas feeling sore and aching. and he feels... bad. there's something angry and despairing. he watched lucien kill jayce. he just saw it. how could lucien do that?
but there are bigger things to worry about right now. he can deal with that later.
lucien grabs the monster, trying to yank the horns to the side. this works, but only barely. it lets out a tiny wail, and tosses its head, trying to get free, but it does take another stab to the side, and gushes even more of that thick ooze. wildly, it kicks, and the hooves do make contact [12] but the impact isn't that hard. he might have a nice hoof-shaped bruise against his side later. it seems to be panicking.
this time, when it looks at lucien, it opens its mouth and coughs out: HeLpMehelPmeHelPmeEhelpme as it tries to ram him to the ground, tries to stomp him, tries to turn him to paste.]
[All he can think to yell in his lunacy is,] You're killing him! [The man is already fucking dead!!
He does not stop running right up until the thing is suddenly no longer Jayce, and he's rattled with surprise. Two seconds of it before a wall of putrid shadow washes out over one side of him while he twists away. It scares him; he'd be a liar if he said it didn't. The taint of illness that quickly becomes familiar again.
Frantically, he swipes at his face and neck, trying to scrape the goo away. Whatever scraps of his bearings are left make him realize--it's a monster. It's a monster. It's right on top of him almost because he ran in like an idiot, and now it's attacking Lucien.
He raises the staff up in front of him, eyes wild, and then... hesitates. Surely it's fine; retribution for Jayce. No! Justice! But... Jayce had begun to betray his trust? Jayce hadn't even told him about the hammer, just waltzed in with it like he was God's gift to Piltover. He slams the staff down against the ground to cast Glacies Claudere.]
[ the kick hits his side and makes him suck in a breath, but it isn't terrible, he has absolutely no idea viktor has failed a wisdom roll so badly, and is trying to parse out this particular statement being frantically yelled at him - yeah, obviously, he's trying to kill it? - that it's a distraction. down to the ground he goes, rolling to avoid the worst of it, hoping the godsdamned sounds stop.
if viktor is looking for retribution or justice it does feel fitting that a big purple horned thing is going to stomp lucien to death with its hooves. that feels fair. if he notices viktor's hesitation, he doesn't say anything, focused on trying not to get caught and killed here.
he can't reach it with his dagger while he's on the ground, so his main goal is to get up and away, back on his feet. ]
[ the creature bleats pathetically as it practically death rolls around on lucien [14, 9] leaving that nasty horrible purple gunk all over him. the hooves are a problem, and they probably crack or break bones if he's not careful about how he gets out from under it, leaves bruises and breaks the skin at a particularly nasty thud to his collarbone. not only that, but the purple gunk burns, where it touches the skin. like frostbite, so cold that it strips the skin. it won't leave purple streaks on him like it does viktor because, y'know. already purple, but it is noticeably darker where he scrapes it off. like an infection.
but he can get away from it! good thing, too, because viktor is casting. and see, here's the thing - glacies claudere is fucking explosive.
this thing? this monster? there's no way it can take three consecutive ice explosions in the shape its in. lucien has stabbed the fuck out of it. it's not that strong, it's already bleeding out. so when the ice storm forms around them, bitingly cold, and jams one, two, three icicles into the thing's back, it wails.]
HELpmehELPmEHELPHELPME -- Lucien!
[and this time, you know that voice, lucien, because it's brevyn.
but you don't see her body. you barely can see anything, the way the ice shatters inside this thing. all at once, the purple and the shadow and the flesh slough off of its body with a disgusting, wet noise, melting and oozing to the ground, rotting off into chunks and viscera. it splatters across trees and the ground and probably you. briefly, as the thing gurgles, there's a perfect series of bones in the shape of an auroch -
and then with a painfully loud clatter in the silent forest, they crash to the ground. the monster's flesh melts and rots into the forest floor, deep into the mud, and sizzles.
neither of you can't escape the ice, you're too close. whatever you roll next is to figure out just how much damage this spell at close range does to you. and viktor, it's worse, because the second you finish casting this spell, all of your energy is gone. you are exhausted, and can't stand for a few minutes - so roll at a disadvantage. ]
[As the energy begins to churn and swell up through him, he starts to wail in a desperate attempt to muster all the strength he can. Everything else is pushed to the side. The pain of the ooze on the side of his body, the pain of his body in general, the ache in the pit of his chest, the scream of the dying creature.
He yells, squeezing his fingers around the staff until his knuckles are white. The ice goes off, the first jostling him, the second when he digs his heels in, the third. As soon as the last one leaves, his energy evaporates on the spot, leaving him frozen to the core and tired.
Instantly, he drops, slipping down the staff and into a pile on the frosty ground.]
[ there's a sickening crunch as it hits his collarbone, but there's enough adrenaline and rage there to ignore it for the moment - the worst bit is all the blood that's simply waste. it's a burning pit in his stomach that here he's weak, and useless - the Somnovem only answer in this place to remind him of their eternal watch with none of the gifts, and the magic in his blood is dead and silent and rotten, mixing with the purple infection left on his skin. blood for blood's sake alone. useless.
he's backing up as rapidly as he can, not so much on his feet as kicking himself backwards along the ground and back towards where viktor is, cursing the whole way - a ripple of fear making him pause when he hears her. that's not unusual. he hears her voice all the time. he hadn't, for a long time. but here again where he's woefully mortal and small the dreams have returned. voices of the dead just out of reach. but she hadn't died with a scream. it was laughing at him for his frantic and panicked apologies, a shudder and silence. he doesn't need to see the body to imagine it clearly. squeezing his eyes shut and yelling himself to block out the damned noise.
he'll do his best to rip out the shield he'd pilfered earlier and cover viktor from hopefully anything particularly fatal. idk man he's got the Tough feat, he can take a hit or two. fucking casters, man. ]
viktor screams - the monster matches in volume - lucien roars to drown it out, and the forest trembles with the force of it. thankfully, the shield comes in handy, and with an [18], lucien manages to pull it out easy, blocking the worst of the damage viktor might have taken [3]. and then, there's silence, as the monster rots into the ground, as the darkness crawls up back out of nowhere, trying almost frantically to latch on.
however.
lucien spends all his effort pulling out that shield, instead of defending himself from the worst of the ice. the shards shatter outward, and pierce his skin - his chest and his arms are just absolutely embedded with ice chunks, some deeper than others. but most painful of all of those is his eye. he gets staggered back a bit as the chunk of ice slams into one of them, his vision going flat.
viktor doesn't escape entirely. while he doesn't take an incredible amount of damage, there's still a rather large icicle that sneaks past the shield and through his hand entirely, right through the palm. it's lodged there, a bloody mess of a hole. he's also functionally stunned, conscious but just... incapable of movement, trembling, the works. talking is hard. breathing is hard. feeling pain is hard, even, but hey. when the shock wears off, it'll kick in.
but hey! the thing is dead! yay! take a second to recover.]
[A low, sickening gurgle comes out of him, short. Vertigo tips him upside down, and he can feel thr nausea climbing the back of this throat.
And then there is darkness. Peace and quiet. How long? Maybe seconds only.
The crackle of ice fills his ears as he comes to again. His body hurts all over in extremely numb way, but when does it never hurt all over? He only notices the icicle when he raises his hand across the ground toward Lucien, desperate. He notices the rot staining his skin. He can't do anything but claw at the cold dirt.]
L...u...
[Why is his tongue so thick and fuzzy? Panic shoots up through him when he sees the shards of ice. No, no, no. Why does everything he tries to do hurt someone else?]
[ he goes to sit directly on the ground - throwing the shield to the side and off into the woods with as much force as he's able to summon. stupid. impatient. attacking right away when he should have waited, watched, but there are some habits he will never learn. he tries to assess the damage but there's too much blood in his eye, making it hard to see for the moment. it will probably be fine once he wipes it away, surely, but it's too tender to the touch right now. it'll have to wait. let's think positively, the purple sear of the shadow has probably ruined a lot of the brightly colored tattoos along his arms. only the lurid red eyes remain perfectly unharmed, as always.
there's a long release of breath once viktor speaks again - however haltingly. turning to try and see him, realizing he can't if he turns to his left so he has to shift the other direction instead - cursing when he sees the icicle. ]
Don't tell me what to do.
[ his voice is steady but thick with blood, a little wheezy. but okay!!!!! well. for once in his fucking life he does as he's told and eats a flippin' Grape. but he's also pulling out the apothecary's potion and if viktor won't drink that willingly or can't get up enough to do it, he will force it down his throat. ]
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Still me. Are you done playing pretend?
[ NO NEED TO BE RUDE. ]
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your lanterns seem to really be the only thing that's warm, here, and even then it's not a lot. it makes the darkness creep away just a little, but... it's just the two of you, lost together. man standing on a path in a creepy forest. ]
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It's me...
[He suddenly seems to realize those aren't the only weird things, and he raises his lantern to glance around them.]
Where...?
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Good. Come on. We should probably walk and talk.
[ because, you know. creepy forest. he doesn't have a fancy bird to tell him there's a left and a right so he'll ... just start walkin'.]
... You alright?
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to the left, the pathway is a dirt one that starts to slowly change into stone at the very edge of where your lantern light casts. to the right, there's just more dirt. both patches have tree roots gnarled across the ground. the silence of the forest around you almost hurts your ears. the smell of this place is just... wrong. it's like rot, and death, but from a distance. like walking through a graveyard.
does it even matter where you go? has it ever mattered? what even matters, when everywhere you go, people die? people you care about. ]
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He follows after through the foggy, too quiet forest. It makes him have to lower his voice even more, like a whisper is too loud.]
...Yes. Though I'm assuming... we won't be after this is all over.
[WELL, it's touch week, and also this fucking place is the worst, so he just reaches out to grab a hold of Lucien's hand. Idk how he does this if he still has a staff plus a lantern, but it's happening.]
Which way...?
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[ he'll have to figure it out because yeah his hand is taken and lucien is squeezing possibly a little too tightly. he'll look both ways and then start heading left. stone means some sort of structure, maybe? there's no other way to make a decision here. ]
This way.
[ bossy ... ]
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down into the dark, into the worst of the shadows. you hold onto each other, and that's good. that's bracing. the two of you, against the world that hates you. the world that has done its best to drag you down into the muck, spit on you, kick dirt in your face. you've both had such a hard time of it, haven't you? unwanted, used. tools for other people, short, flickering lives of people desperate to live, to have something to live for.
do you deserve life? do you deserve everything the world has to offer?
the purple fog continues to swirl around your ankles. it feels cold, but it's raised no higher, at the very least. the longer you go, the more it feels like none of this is worth it. but the lantern's flickering light is warm. it's enough.
you hear noises, down the path. scratching. snuffling.]
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The weight of the forest ends up making him return the squeeze. It's almost like nothing has changed in the back of his mind, always asking himself that same question now. Does he deserve life? Does he deserve life?
The noise ahead causes his heels to dig ever so slightly in. He's still going forward, but wants Lucien to slow down. Rather than raising the lantern, he lowers it a bit behind him.] ...Lucien. [It's a nervous whisper of warning.
USE ONE OF YOUR STUPID NINE EYES, CAN YOU SEE WHAT THAT IS]
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it's a distracting enough argument in his own head he does almost miss the noises - startingly a bit when viktor whispers at him. ]
... I hear it.
[ he'll slow down, partially because he has to because he is attached by the hand - but with the noise he'll (sadly) let go - reaching for his dagger instead. if he uses his terrible mundane eyes in his face can he see if anything is moving? ]
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(a music change for you)
funny you mention the nine eyes - you can see them. both of you, you can see red eyes flickering in and out. they all watch you, blinking in and out, whispering indistinct. you see the sparking, crackling form of something magical, blue, elemental and spirit magic fused together. and then, lucien brings out the dagger and they all go silent at once. the eyes vanish. the magic that you spent so long perfecting, melting away.
in front of the two of them, instead, the fog melts away, and you face this. it's an aurochs - tall, certainly larger than both of you, but it is not particularly huge. it stares at you through its white, bright eyes. it does not move far - only once, enough to take a shuddery, pained breath. ]
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Look, Viktor does not have to go through memshare week to feel the tight drop of discomfort from seeing red eyes. He brings the staff forward after Lucien lets go, gritting his teeth against the twist in his stomach when the area lights up with magic.
It's too silent when they all vanish. He's holding his breath.
But what comes through the fog isn't what he's expecting at all. He takes half a step back, then slowly... raises the lantern. The fuck is that?]
--Be careful.
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lucien takes a full step back when the eyes appear (a voice dripping with jovial charm: `oh! you thought you were free? that's cute. hilarious, actually.` ) - eyes sliding over to viktor when the blue light appears as well. but as they vanish, he shoves any feeling he has about that harshly over to the side. time for that bullshit later. flipping the dagger in his hand, dropping into stance. ]
Don't worry your pretty little head about it.
[ a monster. he knows what to do with those. then he's darting off - he will just straight up stab this thing, that seems like the correct move here. ]
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it seems like it... isn't in good shape. like maybe it was something alive, at some point. but it's degraded. it's rotting away. just like you, just like you, just like you. something infected it. something from a life in a city that was polluted to the gills, something from a journal that spoke to you in harsh, dissonant whispers. it's dying.
but it refuses to die without a fight.
it pulls itself up to its feet, creaking, groaning - there's the sound of something crying. it moves like it's on puppet strings, like its limbs are broken and shouldn't be able to carry it forward. but before it can do a whole lot, lucien slides in to slice it open. it's not hard to do, but when he stabs it - something purplish and gooey gushes out of the wound, all over lucien. it smells like rot, decay. it's intense, and it might make you gag. but you injured it!
it tries very hard to gore him with a horn, but mostly misses, grazing his side. the sound it makes is pathetic. it sounds... it sort of sounds like... someone you knew? you can't quite put your finger on it, lucien, but it feels like you've heard the sound.
viktor, on the other hand, doesn't see a monster. instead, he watches lucien stab someone familiar right through the heart. wuh-oh.]
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L--!
[STOP THIS, it looked hurt. If anyone here could tell when something looked like it was scratching at death's door, it'd be him. It's hard to decide whether it should be put out of its misery, or if, maybe just if, it could be saved. Like Rio.
That's what it reminds him of. Rio. The sweet, giant salamander now bobbing in the stasis tank in Singed's lab, barely alive, rotted, eyes white, veins full of Shimmer.
He forces the thoughts out of his mind and brings the staff up in front of him, intent to try casting, but then... it's not Rio. It's not even an auroch anymore. He startles in horror as it becomes someone else right as Lucien dives in.]
Jayce!!
[NO?! The immediacy in which he gives up on coherency and runs, stumbling at first, full-force toward the thing.]
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sure, it probably does sound like someone he knew. a lot of dying sounds the same. terror and pain makes all animals alike. he shakes his arm free of the gunk to try and take another stab at it before he hears the shouting.
the name viktor says is only slightly familiar, but he does remember hearing it - and he whips his head around to see if he can spot what exactly the fucking issue is. Look he's fought with plenty of casters before, and knows exactly where they should be on a battlefield - and it's definitely not running full-tilt towards the deadly part of the monster. ]
Fuck-- Back up!
[ he'll try and grab this thing by one of the horns to physically haul its head to the side, distract it, taking another stab with the dagger. if only to get it stop making that sound. ]
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and then, like it was never him at all, it's a monster again. a wailing, horrible ram-like creature, turning its head and opening its mouth. its jaw falls open, and a blast of that horrible purple darkness shoots like a concentrated beam to knock viktor back. it hits him, but with a [7] it might not be enough to knock him away. still. when it does, it leaves streaks of deep purple across his face and neck, leaves those areas feeling sore and aching. and he feels... bad. there's something angry and despairing. he watched lucien kill jayce. he just saw it. how could lucien do that?
but there are bigger things to worry about right now. he can deal with that later.
lucien grabs the monster, trying to yank the horns to the side. this works, but only barely. it lets out a tiny wail, and tosses its head, trying to get free, but it does take another stab to the side, and gushes even more of that thick ooze. wildly, it kicks, and the hooves do make contact [12] but the impact isn't that hard. he might have a nice hoof-shaped bruise against his side later. it seems to be panicking.
this time, when it looks at lucien, it opens its mouth and coughs out: HeLpMehelPmeHelPmeEhelpme as it tries to ram him to the ground, tries to stomp him, tries to turn him to paste.]
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He does not stop running right up until the thing is suddenly no longer Jayce, and he's rattled with surprise. Two seconds of it before a wall of putrid shadow washes out over one side of him while he twists away. It scares him; he'd be a liar if he said it didn't. The taint of illness that quickly becomes familiar again.
Frantically, he swipes at his face and neck, trying to scrape the goo away. Whatever scraps of his bearings are left make him realize--it's a monster. It's a monster. It's right on top of him almost because he ran in like an idiot, and now it's attacking Lucien.
He raises the staff up in front of him, eyes wild, and then... hesitates. Surely it's fine; retribution for Jayce. No! Justice! But... Jayce had begun to betray his trust? Jayce hadn't even told him about the hammer, just waltzed in with it like he was God's gift to Piltover. He slams the staff down against the ground to cast Glacies Claudere.]
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if viktor is looking for retribution or justice it does feel fitting that a big purple horned thing is going to stomp lucien to death with its hooves. that feels fair. if he notices viktor's hesitation, he doesn't say anything, focused on trying not to get caught and killed here.
he can't reach it with his dagger while he's on the ground, so his main goal is to get up and away, back on his feet. ]
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but he can get away from it! good thing, too, because viktor is casting. and see, here's the thing - glacies claudere is fucking explosive.
this thing? this monster? there's no way it can take three consecutive ice explosions in the shape its in. lucien has stabbed the fuck out of it. it's not that strong, it's already bleeding out. so when the ice storm forms around them, bitingly cold, and jams one, two, three icicles into the thing's back, it wails.]
HELpmehELPmEHELPHELPME -- Lucien!
[and this time, you know that voice, lucien, because it's brevyn.
but you don't see her body. you barely can see anything, the way the ice shatters inside this thing. all at once, the purple and the shadow and the flesh slough off of its body with a disgusting, wet noise, melting and oozing to the ground, rotting off into chunks and viscera. it splatters across trees and the ground and probably you. briefly, as the thing gurgles, there's a perfect series of bones in the shape of an auroch -
and then with a painfully loud clatter in the silent forest, they crash to the ground. the monster's flesh melts and rots into the forest floor, deep into the mud, and sizzles.
neither of you can't escape the ice, you're too close. whatever you roll next is to figure out just how much damage this spell at close range does to you. and viktor, it's worse, because the second you finish casting this spell, all of your energy is gone. you are exhausted, and can't stand for a few minutes - so roll at a disadvantage. ]
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He yells, squeezing his fingers around the staff until his knuckles are white. The ice goes off, the first jostling him, the second when he digs his heels in, the third. As soon as the last one leaves, his energy evaporates on the spot, leaving him frozen to the core and tired.
Instantly, he drops, slipping down the staff and into a pile on the frosty ground.]
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he's backing up as rapidly as he can, not so much on his feet as kicking himself backwards along the ground and back towards where viktor is, cursing the whole way - a ripple of fear making him pause when he hears her. that's not unusual. he hears her voice all the time. he hadn't, for a long time. but here again where he's woefully mortal and small the dreams have returned. voices of the dead just out of reach. but she hadn't died with a scream. it was laughing at him for his frantic and panicked apologies, a shudder and silence. he doesn't need to see the body to imagine it clearly. squeezing his eyes shut and yelling himself to block out the damned noise.
he'll do his best to rip out the shield he'd pilfered earlier and cover viktor from hopefully anything particularly fatal. idk man he's got the Tough feat, he can take a hit or two. fucking casters, man. ]
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viktor screams - the monster matches in volume - lucien roars to drown it out, and the forest trembles with the force of it. thankfully, the shield comes in handy, and with an [18], lucien manages to pull it out easy, blocking the worst of the damage viktor might have taken [3]. and then, there's silence, as the monster rots into the ground, as the darkness crawls up back out of nowhere, trying almost frantically to latch on.
however.
lucien spends all his effort pulling out that shield, instead of defending himself from the worst of the ice. the shards shatter outward, and pierce his skin - his chest and his arms are just absolutely embedded with ice chunks, some deeper than others. but most painful of all of those is his eye. he gets staggered back a bit as the chunk of ice slams into one of them, his vision going flat.
viktor doesn't escape entirely. while he doesn't take an incredible amount of damage, there's still a rather large icicle that sneaks past the shield and through his hand entirely, right through the palm. it's lodged there, a bloody mess of a hole. he's also functionally stunned, conscious but just... incapable of movement, trembling, the works. talking is hard. breathing is hard. feeling pain is hard, even, but hey. when the shock wears off, it'll kick in.
but hey! the thing is dead! yay! take a second to recover.]
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And then there is darkness. Peace and quiet. How long? Maybe seconds only.
The crackle of ice fills his ears as he comes to again. His body hurts all over in extremely numb way, but when does it never hurt all over? He only notices the icicle when he raises his hand across the ground toward Lucien, desperate. He notices the rot staining his skin. He can't do anything but claw at the cold dirt.]
L...u...
[Why is his tongue so thick and fuzzy? Panic shoots up through him when he sees the shards of ice. No, no, no. Why does everything he tries to do hurt someone else?]
Luc...ien... Eat ... e grape...
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there's a long release of breath once viktor speaks again - however haltingly. turning to try and see him, realizing he can't if he turns to his left so he has to shift the other direction instead - cursing when he sees the icicle. ]
Don't tell me what to do.
[ his voice is steady but thick with blood, a little wheezy. but okay!!!!! well. for once in his fucking life he does as he's told and eats a flippin' Grape. but he's also pulling out the apothecary's potion and if viktor won't drink that willingly or can't get up enough to do it, he will force it down his throat. ]
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