hexstrapper | caldera inbox.

Did you see that someone is having a party at the Ember Veil hotsprings? I've heard they have impressive healing properties. If nothing else, it'll help relieve any aches and pains your hips and legs are currently causing you.

Viktor? I ah... I have something of yours. Well, I might've gone looking for it, after the fact.

[Skan sounds sheepish, bordering on embarrassed; both are wholly unnatural emotions.]

How are you?

This is Viktor, right? I need to ask you something.

Well! That's that Percy character dealt with, for now.

Viktor, I hope you saw that, and enjoyed it as much as I did, because in all honesty, I'm not convinced that arrogant little waste-of-breath actually learned a damn thing from any of this.

Viktor!

[If Skan's voice sounds panicked, it's because he's deeply concerned.]

The island is tilting— our house! [There is a muffled crash, a hissed gryphonic curse, and then the rattling sound of the storm-shutters as Skan leaps free from the balcony, into the air.] Are you alright? Where are you?

Skan woke to a pale grey darkness. Pre-dawn was coming in through the open shutters, along with a breeze that smelled of early bread, phlox, and the cold high winds that flew just beyond the borders of Heaven's Bow. He woke, but he didn't move, didn't stretch his wings or legs, didn't rise and rouse his feathers. In the crook of one wing, nestled up warm against his side, like the memory of nestlings, Viktor was sleeping.

His head bobbed with every breath, and Skan could feel his mind turning lazily over itself, the night's dreams wending their ways through him like affectionate cats. It would be a shame to disturb him, whatever the hour, and now...

...Well, it was no crime to sleep in, once in a while. And true, it was pleasant to lie this way, warm along one side, with the cool freshness of the morning against his nares, and to watch the world outside slowly wake to the day. Lights flickered on far below, and the sky grew brighter by increments, and airships began their first forays, trundling with their beetle-like sway out into the air, or back again. He could hear, with his ears pricked up, the sound of a cheerful exchange, somewhere out on the streets above, the words indistinct, but the laughter evident.

It was going to be good day. And best of all, he was beginning it with a friend.

Xander had become a regular at the workshop, likely to no one's surprise. He was not quite the tinkerer everyone else seemed to be, but the tools provided offered him plenty to experiment with even with his more medically oriented expertise.

Viktor was a common sight too, and one Xander delighted in seeing. They talked regularly, but even when they were both busy doing their own things, the silence between them was never heavy or uncomfortable.

One day, Xander left and did not return for several hours. When he did, it was with a wicker basket looped around his elbow, a small patterned cloth across the top. He hobbled over to Viktor, waited until he was no longer busy, and cleared his throat.

"I have a proposition for you, if I may be so bold."

Heard about what happened with the jackass rabbit and wanted to extend an offer to you. If you need a bodyguard, I'm free.

Viktor You assisted me Previously Creating armor for My tressym.[The first step of humaning, he has been told, is parasocial connection. Check!]

I have another Such favor To ask

It's a ordinary-enough night for it, the night after the performance. Except of course, for all the emotional upset.

"I still think I ought to have least placed," Skan is complaining. He's had that complaint intermittently ever since the winners had been announced, and it's not likely to be the last time, "Honestly."

Nymion. Blowhard. Untrustworthy witness. BRAT!

"...At least it was a productive enough day. I saw your display with Xander, as well. No nose for utility in these judges, I notice!"

Xander has been hanging out a lot at the workshop with Viktor, and it's clear to anyone around that the two are in a sort of honeymoon phase. They're attached at the hip and tend to be quite affectionate with each other, and can sometimes be found napping together on the couch in the lounge.

Ever since the mingle, Viktor has been trying to slow down with his work and enjoy his time with his partner, because he isn't sure how limited it will be. One night, Xander brings by some nice wine and cheeses and convinces him to take a break. His rubber arm is easily twisted for this, and the lovey-dovey aura from the lounge can probably be felt half a mile away.

When Barcus enters the lounge, Viktor is unusually smiley.

"Barcus, please, have some wine and cheese." He gestures to the little table they've pulled up beside the couch so they don't have to get up. And they look quite cozy, Viktor's legs across Xander's lap, nestled between his partner and the arm of the couch with his wine held into his chest. His cheeks are a little pink, and it's unclear if that's because of the wine or something Xander recently did or said.

[It's a simple envelope though it has some Christmas-y looking bees buzzing over it in what looks like crayon. Opening it up will reveal a note and a larger piece of paper.]

Dear Viktor,

My training data taught me that presents are supposed to be given to people you care about this time of year. I didn't know what to buy so I hope you like this drawing. ~~Sorry it's not much.~~ ~~I'll do better next time.~~

- Caine

[The other piece of paper has three pencil drawings on it. In the upper right is a cartoon-styled version of Viktor with his cane. In the bottom left is a little cartoon bee that's carrying Viktor's staff and its face resembles Viktor's.]

[The center of the page has Viktor as he was before sitting in his wheelchair while Viktor as he is now is standing with a hand on the sitting Viktor's shoulder. Both are sketched with an incredible amount of detail though the sitting Viktor doesn't look frail or weak even with his obvious issues. The two Viktors have the same kind eyes and gentle smiles. This is how Caine has always seen Viktor regardless of if he had the chair or not.]

[The audio seems distant and a bit tinny, as if the speaker isn’t yet sure how phones work].

“Strange, I feel like I’m talking to a ship in a bottle - anyway. Viktor, right? This is Hawke. I’d like to talk - maybe we can do it on the road, get some Bones in. The way people talk you can do what sounds to me like magic without being a … anyway.”

text @rolan

audio @blackbird

@ogreslayer

voice @blackbird

During the event~

A gift!

body painting quest technically — so we don't forget

@ogreslayer