[Skan listens quietly, and it's a terrible, harrowing tale. The nearness with which death haunts Viktor's life, and those of his friends, is as familiar as it is unwelcome, and his eyes grow all the sharper, wide-spread pupils, and carefully-kept glare as the danger ebbs closer, and then is deferred, like watching someone edge towards arson only for the spark to be stamped out at the last possible moment.
But his head comes up at the mention of the Gates. Was he hearing that right? That Viktor, and of course his friend who had surely contributed a great deal, had invented Gates for his world!? How... how was that possible? It brought the man's fierce, gracious intelligence into sharp contrast, it reevaluated everything he'd ever said.
Viktor had not a drop of mage-gift, and nothing he'd said of his world indicated that he knew of anyone else who had any, either. And yet, with mere mechanical skill and the application of genius, he had replicated a feat that only an Adept-ranked mage could reproduce! If such a thing had ever come into human hands during the war, it would have... it would have...
...He can barely grasp the concept, to begin with. It would have changed everything. And all for a merest mention along side what truly matters: friendship, love, and the loss of either. Skan puts his head back down, mind whirling.]
You are truly a most remarkable man, my friend. I had no idea. But keep faith; you might yet find your friend arriving here, some fine day. Certainly, if I ever hear of this Jayce showing up, you'll be the first to know.
[Skan seems very engrossed in his tale, which he wasn't expecting. Nor is he anticipating the compliment the gryphon pays him. He tilts his head, looking thoughtfully at his friend.]
Remarkable? What do you mean?
[Faced with his own death, Viktor has been feeling crushing defeat. All that looms in his mind is how much he hasn't yet accomplished. The dreams he will not be able to fulfill, the people from the Undercity he will never be able to help in more meaningful ways. It is hard to remember that he has done great things already, that he is extremely bright and hard-working as it is. Ever-ambitious and ever-perfectionistic, it's as though Viktor can't see himself for what he truly is, only what he's failed to become.]
But thank you. You will be the first to know if I find your Amberdrake. Perhaps you could give me a description? Jayce is very tall and broad, with short dark hair and a tanned complexion. He usually wears a white jacket, sometimes carries a giant hammer. I think many would call him handsome.
[Because, well, he is. No getting around it. But that's neither here nor there.]
I'm damned proud to be your friend, let's just leave it at that.
[So there: enough of that. But Skan nods carefully at each quality, trying to imagine the face of such a man, and commit it to memory. Except handsome, he doesn't think he could pick that out by sight, at least not necessarily. It's subjective, isn't it?]
Amberdrake is tall, and tan, and quite lean. He'll be wearing feathers in his hair, almost certainly some of mine, which is very long and very dark. I can't imagine what else he'll be wearing, he's such a clotheshorse, but he does dress nicely, no matter where he goes, so they'll be very fine clothes. He's got a hawkish sort of a nose, that's the Kaled'a'in blood showing, though I don't expect you'll know the look, and...
[Skan hesitates, and then sighs, and drops his chin back onto the blankets.]
He's gentle. Brave, and stubborn, and he can be direct. But he's gentle. He'll speak to you like he already knows everything about you, and likes you all the better for it. That's how you'll know best, that it's Amberdrake.
[The word is soft and his gaze is softer as he looks at the bird. He isn't sure what spurred Skan to say that, but it is a very sweet thing to say.
He just keeps stroking feathers, ever so gently, as he listens to the description. It is also very sweet. He, too, tries to memorize the information, to imagine the man in his mind.]
He sounds like a lovely person. I don't think I will have any trouble recognizing him. He wears your feathers in his hair?
[That really sticks with Viktor. He's a sentimental person in a similar way. He likes to have a keepsake of Jayce on his person, aside from the crutch. Someday, he might like to have a feather of Skan's. He's not sure how he would use or wear it, but the thought warms him a little.]
I have this little gear, a cog, that I carried around in my pocket. I plucked it out of the air on a day we made a huge breakthrough, and somehow disabled the gravity in our lab. It was incredible... Everything felt possible, on that day.
[His tone is thoughtful, very quiet and soft.]
I'll be requesting that gear back. Not that I think it was fair of them to take it in the first place. Perhaps it was just a matter of needing to empty the pockets for travel, so I will give them the benefit of the doubt.
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But his head comes up at the mention of the Gates. Was he hearing that right? That Viktor, and of course his friend who had surely contributed a great deal, had invented Gates for his world!? How... how was that possible? It brought the man's fierce, gracious intelligence into sharp contrast, it reevaluated everything he'd ever said.
Viktor had not a drop of mage-gift, and nothing he'd said of his world indicated that he knew of anyone else who had any, either. And yet, with mere mechanical skill and the application of genius, he had replicated a feat that only an Adept-ranked mage could reproduce! If such a thing had ever come into human hands during the war, it would have... it would have...
...He can barely grasp the concept, to begin with. It would have changed everything. And all for a merest mention along side what truly matters: friendship, love, and the loss of either. Skan puts his head back down, mind whirling.]
You are truly a most remarkable man, my friend. I had no idea. But keep faith; you might yet find your friend arriving here, some fine day. Certainly, if I ever hear of this Jayce showing up, you'll be the first to know.
no subject
Remarkable? What do you mean?
[Faced with his own death, Viktor has been feeling crushing defeat. All that looms in his mind is how much he hasn't yet accomplished. The dreams he will not be able to fulfill, the people from the Undercity he will never be able to help in more meaningful ways. It is hard to remember that he has done great things already, that he is extremely bright and hard-working as it is. Ever-ambitious and ever-perfectionistic, it's as though Viktor can't see himself for what he truly is, only what he's failed to become.]
But thank you. You will be the first to know if I find your Amberdrake. Perhaps you could give me a description? Jayce is very tall and broad, with short dark hair and a tanned complexion. He usually wears a white jacket, sometimes carries a giant hammer. I think many would call him handsome.
[Because, well, he is. No getting around it. But that's neither here nor there.]
no subject
[So there: enough of that. But Skan nods carefully at each quality, trying to imagine the face of such a man, and commit it to memory. Except handsome, he doesn't think he could pick that out by sight, at least not necessarily. It's subjective, isn't it?]
Amberdrake is tall, and tan, and quite lean. He'll be wearing feathers in his hair, almost certainly some of mine, which is very long and very dark. I can't imagine what else he'll be wearing, he's such a clotheshorse, but he does dress nicely, no matter where he goes, so they'll be very fine clothes. He's got a hawkish sort of a nose, that's the Kaled'a'in blood showing, though I don't expect you'll know the look, and...
[Skan hesitates, and then sighs, and drops his chin back onto the blankets.]
He's gentle. Brave, and stubborn, and he can be direct. But he's gentle. He'll speak to you like he already knows everything about you, and likes you all the better for it. That's how you'll know best, that it's Amberdrake.
no subject
[The word is soft and his gaze is softer as he looks at the bird. He isn't sure what spurred Skan to say that, but it is a very sweet thing to say.
He just keeps stroking feathers, ever so gently, as he listens to the description. It is also very sweet. He, too, tries to memorize the information, to imagine the man in his mind.]
He sounds like a lovely person. I don't think I will have any trouble recognizing him. He wears your feathers in his hair?
[That really sticks with Viktor. He's a sentimental person in a similar way. He likes to have a keepsake of Jayce on his person, aside from the crutch. Someday, he might like to have a feather of Skan's. He's not sure how he would use or wear it, but the thought warms him a little.]
I have this little gear, a cog, that I carried around in my pocket. I plucked it out of the air on a day we made a huge breakthrough, and somehow disabled the gravity in our lab. It was incredible... Everything felt possible, on that day.
[His tone is thoughtful, very quiet and soft.]
I'll be requesting that gear back. Not that I think it was fair of them to take it in the first place. Perhaps it was just a matter of needing to empty the pockets for travel, so I will give them the benefit of the doubt.