#zauneyed

does your muse engage in introspection often ?

viktor was more prone to introspection when he was younger and his actions were more aligned with his ideals. after becoming the machine herald he subconsciously starts avoiding looking inward, because a lot the things he does go against his former pacifism, even if he does his best to justify his actions to himself.

does your muse have any escapist behaviors ?

yes and no. on one hand, losing himself into his work is a form or escapism. it was especially true back when his rapidly deteriorating health took over everything else in his life. on the other hand, does it count as escapism when focusing on his work is so grounded in his material reality? yes he was dying, so he committed all his time and energy into leaving behind a legacy he could be proud of. likewise, when he obsesses over his work and the glorious evolution now, it isn't really an escape from anything. the man needs hobbies fr.

how does your muse handle the duality within themselves ?

   𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 !   ―   since sol was bound to her, the lesser demon had been an active eye and ear for her master. there was no shortage of fodder to feed from zaun, but expecting evelynn to not rove the realm of runeterra far and wide in search of the richest delicacies that pain could offer was nothing but a flight of fancy . . . which is why she wasn't terribly interested in returning so soon, not till the king piece had switched hands, as according to sol.

   getting close to the kingpin wasn't an option without provoking his commander and rousing the rabble, but his babysitter didn't keep him company at all hands of the clock. it wasn't difficult to seep beneath / between doorframes like smoke, waiting for the moment to release wanton breath . . . and, now:

"I learned not to block with my face."

Teasing, of course -- even if the side of his face stung, a black eye was quickly forming, and a cloth was bunched up to cover his bleeding nose. Though this was one of those many times where having an abnormally high tolerance to pain was either a boon or a curse -- he'd find out which one later tonight, when he had a chance to assess the full damage.

The barkeeper was settled on the bar counter, legs draped over the front of it. It wasn't the most dignified -- or professional -- of seats, and he was much better off in a chair, all things taken into consideration. But if he cared a wit about anyone walking in an hour or so early and seeing him like this, he gave no indication whatsoever.

The brawl had been business as usual around here: a conflict between two gangs vying for territory. Considering they had decided to trade blows right in front of his bar, Vander wasn't about to just stand there and watch(even if it would have made for a fine show).

And so he didn't.

The evidence of how it went spoke for itself; all bruised and cut up, but still grinning with yet another reminder given to both sides of why one didn't cross The Hound of the Underground -- a title given to him courtesy of his victories thus far in The Pit. (And for good reason, he supposed.) His free hand raised, and he flexed his fingers first, then bent them one at a time. The knuckles were bruised to hell, but the simple test assured him that there was no other damage. The cloth was switched to that hand, pressed back into place, then he ran the same test on his opposite one. Fingers wiggled and bent one by one.

Out came a sigh that sounded more like a groan. If his position wasn't so unnecessarily precarious, and if there was something to support his back(rather than open bar space), he would have allowed himself to fall backwards. Instead, he'd settle for simply tilting his head back to hasten the stopping of the bleeding.

"You don't think this'll effect my dashing good looks, do you?" Vander mused; more teasing, of course. A thumb jerked in the direction of the stairs. "Mind grabbing me some bandages? Upstairs bathroom."

Coming  from  Silco  ,  a  comment  like  that  shouldn't  have  affected  her  so  heavily  -  instead  ,  the  fire  in  her  belly  stirred  up  ,  a  hot  rage  rushing  through  her  veins  into  each  extremity. 

❝  what  the  fuck  do  you  think  you  know  about  MY  feelings  ❞.  The  brawler  spat  -  god  she  wanted  to  at  least  try  to  make  this  work  ,  but  after  everything  that  had  built  up  over  the  years  Vi  was  going  to  need  a  lot  more  than  just  a  welcome  to  your  new  family  banner.

❝  I  want  this  to  work  ❞ ,  brows  harshly  furrowed  ,  ❝  but  forgive  me  for  needing  time  to  get  my  head  around  all  of  this  ❞ .

answered the first one here!

i don't know if i have a favourite, or if this counts as a hc exactly, but i like that the conception of the machine herald is both on viktor and jayce in my portrayal. the design and initial experimentation falls on viktor but the one who ultimately replaced his dying body with the hextech prototypes was jayce. also that the parts of viktor that jayce made still react to him, that's fun.

i want more interactions where he's being an intense and unhinged villain. enough with angst, the time for the glorious evolution is now.

❛ i know this. and i am … grateful, that you have spared me this time, so we could talk. ❜ if viktor is making an effort to hide his disdain for the man before him, he's not doing a very good job of it. he might as well be pulling out teeth rather than niceties. reddened eyes, cushioned with puffy eyebags dark as bruises, glance up for only a second before dropping back to the floor, heavy with the weight of every step that has led him here. viktor grips his crutch tighter : no one ever said that progress was pretty, or painless.

viktor is dying. there's no denying it any longer — he tastes blood and rot on every breath he draws. he's out of breaths to waste.

he can't let hextech become zaun's ruin, when it was meant to be her salvation.

❛ i cannot prevent more bloodshed between zaun and piltover no more than you wish to avoid it. but as it stands, zaun has no chance against topside. ❜ because of hextech. ❛ i'm here because i wish to change that. ❜

there's no longer time to convince jayce not to let the council weaponize their work. no time to wait for a peaceful solution to present itself. so maybe it's better to prove that jayce was right; that the people from the undercity are dangerous, after all

—and he is from the undercity.

That we all must take.

Oh how those words curled like smoke about him. He could feel them settle upon his skin as if he was standing in a heavy fog, small droplets compounding until they formed a tangible weight upon his shoulders. On his entire body. And how that body ached terribly, severely. Death was already nipping at Viktor's heels and it was so close to wrapping its fingers around his neck. But it wasn't a path he was ready to take.

Not yet.