The last thing he remembers is the warmth of of the closeness of their spectral forms. The pressure of their foreheads, the force of their hands together around the gem. A burn of heat and energy he thinks he'd felt down to his very soul from the strength of it all. An explosion of light and color, the sound of his name on Viktor's lips. Then — nothing. An empty dark oblivion. Death maybe, or something like it.
And then—
There's a sharp crack within the workshop, a burst of bright light and jagged, rippling spikes and arcs. It lasts for only a few seconds, something inside the burst flicking sharply into existence. A heavy thump is the last sound the strange anomaly produces, and as the light vanishes, there's only something laying quiet and unmoving in a mess of dirty white fabric and dark clothing, dulled golden edges decorating them. A closer look makes it clear that that something is a man - sprawled on his side with his back to where Viktor is. Given the silence and stillness, the broad chest not even moving to indicate he's even breathing, it's hard to tell if he's conscious or even alive.
The stillness lasts for a long, tense moment. And whether or not Viktor approaches, it doesn't take long for him to finally stir.
Jayce draws in a sharp gasp as his consciousness crashes back down on him, forcing the air back into his lungs and motion back into his limbs. He gulps in a few, ragged breathes as he shifts, hands moving in an attempt to push himself up before shaking arms give out under his weight. There's a soft grunt on the small impact, and he settles instead for forcing himself to roll onto his back, blinking hazy hazel eyes up at the ceiling as shapes and colors smooth out across his vision. There's a flicker of recognition of the space around him, a chalkboard in the edge of his vision that triggers memories. Memories of a time long since past - of the day he and Viktor had met, the fate his partner had saved him from. The bond they'd forged that day.
It's enough that all he can manage as he lays there, body exhausted, the edges of his mind still dull in the trickling recovery of it all, is a ragged, "—Viktor?" As if he thinks - hopes - his partner is there, too.
no subject
And then—
There's a sharp crack within the workshop, a burst of bright light and jagged, rippling spikes and arcs. It lasts for only a few seconds, something inside the burst flicking sharply into existence. A heavy thump is the last sound the strange anomaly produces, and as the light vanishes, there's only something laying quiet and unmoving in a mess of dirty white fabric and dark clothing, dulled golden edges decorating them. A closer look makes it clear that that something is a man - sprawled on his side with his back to where Viktor is. Given the silence and stillness, the broad chest not even moving to indicate he's even breathing, it's hard to tell if he's conscious or even alive.
The stillness lasts for a long, tense moment. And whether or not Viktor approaches, it doesn't take long for him to finally stir.
Jayce draws in a sharp gasp as his consciousness crashes back down on him, forcing the air back into his lungs and motion back into his limbs. He gulps in a few, ragged breathes as he shifts, hands moving in an attempt to push himself up before shaking arms give out under his weight. There's a soft grunt on the small impact, and he settles instead for forcing himself to roll onto his back, blinking hazy hazel eyes up at the ceiling as shapes and colors smooth out across his vision. There's a flicker of recognition of the space around him, a chalkboard in the edge of his vision that triggers memories. Memories of a time long since past - of the day he and Viktor had met, the fate his partner had saved him from. The bond they'd forged that day.
It's enough that all he can manage as he lays there, body exhausted, the edges of his mind still dull in the trickling recovery of it all, is a ragged, "—Viktor?" As if he thinks - hopes - his partner is there, too.