Aye. Put soul back in body. I could have told you that. I'll keep asking.
[ he can feel they are coming to the end of this, and is getting reluctant to keep speaking too much - in case it runs the timer out on the connection.
anyway, this is almost bizarre. they have spoken so much this week that it almost feels like. fucking? normal? whatever counts for normal here. It's going to rough going back to hastily exchanged 300 word notes. ]
[Lucien hates it every time, but Viktor truly stands there doing nothing but staring at him. Studying him, studying all of his face, every line, saying nothing only worrying his lips between his teeth.
Then he leans in suddenly to kiss Lucien on the lips, unfelt and quick, nervous, but he takes half a step backward after just as quickly. Like Lucien is on a train about to start away down the tracks.]
At least you get a room all to yourself now, right?
[ he snorts softly, both at the joke and the very cute gesture - he can't feel it but it doesn't really matter all that much. fucked up and weird to be on the same page about it which is that sure maybe they are both going to die horrible deaths but also they can be real queer about it? leaning his head to the side, a few fingers against his own cheek, as viktor pulls back. ]
Oh, I don't know. I've been staying with Throné ... who also stays with Arthur and Temenos. It's incredibly crowded. Hm. That seems idiotic. I don't know why I'm doing that. [ ... ] Take care of yourself, send less insane letters next time.
[ just for traditions sake: ] Say hello to Diluc for me as well?
[ Amalthea keeps the podium channeling, but this eventually has to end... The dead and the living are meant to be separated—that divide is important.
While Viktor returns whence he came, Lucien finds himself slipping. For a moment, he can feel Viktor's presence, warmth, touch... and see his surroundings change. It's no longer a church, but an abandoned space where pulsing flesh grows through the cracks. He can faintly make sense of tables and chairs, but not much else from the darkness that shadows his vision. Yet in that darkness, Viktor becomes clearer and clearer with each passing second.
... The soft humming from the channeling podium ends, but these sensations continue.
Lucien feels his soul and body slowly split, sinew to sinew... He can be with him, if he wanted. He can abandon this shell. The excruciating pain is temporary, after all.
Lucien will feel a deathly chill from the touch of Amalthea's hand, but uh-oh. ]
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[ he can feel they are coming to the end of this, and is getting reluctant to keep speaking too much - in case it runs the timer out on the connection.
anyway, this is almost bizarre. they have spoken so much this week that it almost feels like. fucking? normal? whatever counts for normal here. It's going to rough going back to hastily exchanged 300 word notes. ]
... What a week.
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Then he leans in suddenly to kiss Lucien on the lips, unfelt and quick, nervous, but he takes half a step backward after just as quickly. Like Lucien is on a train about to start away down the tracks.]
At least you get a room all to yourself now, right?
no subject
Oh, I don't know. I've been staying with Throné ... who also stays with Arthur and Temenos. It's incredibly crowded. Hm. That seems idiotic. I don't know why I'm doing that. [ ... ] Take care of yourself, send less insane letters next time.
[ just for traditions sake: ] Say hello to Diluc for me as well?
no subject
While Viktor returns whence he came, Lucien finds himself slipping. For a moment, he can feel Viktor's presence, warmth, touch... and see his surroundings change. It's no longer a church, but an abandoned space where pulsing flesh grows through the cracks. He can faintly make sense of tables and chairs, but not much else from the darkness that shadows his vision. Yet in that darkness, Viktor becomes clearer and clearer with each passing second.
... The soft humming from the channeling podium ends, but these sensations continue.
Lucien feels his soul and body slowly split, sinew to sinew... He can be with him, if he wanted. He can abandon this shell. The excruciating pain is temporary, after all.
Lucien will feel a deathly chill from the touch of Amalthea's hand, but uh-oh. ]
no subject
no subject