[ what does he need? that's a question. he needs his powers back. he needs to go back to the side of the raven queen, to complete a half idle promise made last week over drinks and suddenly blurted out stories.
Let's meet again, at the end of everything.
...
he scrubs a hand over his face again, then keeps his eyes closed, head tipping up towards the ceiling. vax just holds that for a moment, thinking about - about the face of the other percy from that place. about vex'ahlia. about home.
as he pulls his hand away, vax stares up at the ceiling. ]
I need you not to die on me.
[ he'll say it. it's fine. ] Don't you fucking dare.
[ with people being possessed like last week, acting strangely, it's - it's a minute possibility.
That's not a promise I can make for you in a place like this.
[ percy refuses to lie, not about this. he can't offer a reassurance for something as unpredictable as death, as random as someone finding a corpse on the damned wheel. ]
I'll only agree to do my best if you do the same.
[ it's hard to think that someone else among them did this. someone killed buzen and now they're going to be left finding the pieces tomorrow at some agonizingly slow pace for the entertainment of something looking down upon them. this is hell.
percy closes his hand into a fist for a moment and focuses, before opening it up to create a small, amber-colored globe in his palm, it's warm, and the calm that drifts off of it is soft, a mild balm for the intense ache.
i don't care how many times you say you're dead. ]
[ vax's head snaps up, at first, fixing percy with a look that's reminiscent of their older days in vox machina - or, maybe, for percy, something so much more recent. it's not quite indignant, but it's frustrated. frustrated with percy's pragmatism, with his attitude. that isn't the point, you fucking dick, is what he might say. i already watched you die here once.
...
but the second part cools his temper, takes the wind from his sails a little. vax's expression flattens, his shoulders coming down as he looks at that amber globe, and then back up at percy.
his life doesn't matter - he'll say it, over and over - but he's realizing in this moment that that's a little hypocritical.
vax exhales, and scrubs a hand over his face, shoulders hunching back up. ]
[ he sees that. and he has nothing else to help with it. especially not this: ]
But do remember. Just because I trust you... and put my faith in you...
[ he smiles, and it is tired and cold. ]
Don't take your eyes off of me.
[ i don't deserve the trust. your like, perhaps, but... not your trust. not in this place. where we turn on one another like a viper, where we're made to stab each other in the back by something somewhere. he thinks about that talk, in the wan light of his meager temple to the raven queen, thinks about the echo of their voices as they discussed it all--titles, heraldry, the idea that perhaps vex may wake up and realize she is worth more than titles and money and the treatment of their father.
he smiles, soft. ]
But I will indeed do my best not to die. I may near it, but you can't blame me. [ he lowers his head ] You and I both know how to do all that we can. And sometimes, that means coming close. We'll protect these people... as best we can. [ like they're our own. each one. ]
... it's strange, to have this conversation now. for vax'ildan, it's looking backwards: looking back at a percy who doesn't know what's to come, at a conversation they once had. trust has always been a commodity for vax'ildan, because for the longest time in his life, vex'ahlia was the only person that he trusted. percy earned his, lost it, and... little does he know, earned it, again.
looking at this percy, who doesn't know about killing thordak or raishaun, who doesn't know about vecna the way he does, who hasn't even realized that vax left vex in percy's hands when he had to step back and fulfill his duty to the raven queen, because he knew she'd be safe there. happy there. after everything, percy has more than earned his trust and respect.
...
but he doesn't know that yet.
(isn't that what he has to do? to guide?)
vax takes a deep breath. shoulders up, shoulders down. ]
Yeah. One step at a time. [ a beat. ] And you - you listen to me. If you do something, if I do something. I don't care. It's not you. It's not me. It's this fucking prism.
[ by which he means hey if you need me to cover a murder for you... but doesn't say so. ]
[ this is some sort of promise that vax is making to him, the way they make promises--messily, clumsily, desperately. he stares at him for a moment longer, his brow giving a soft twitch. percy says it because he doesn't want vax to forget. he shouldn't forget.
eventually, he gives a nod, a shrug that communicates in turn: i accept. ]
I won't. We're here together, aren't we?
[ his hands lift, and it's of their own volition that they find vax's and hold them. firm. steady. ]
I'll... remember that. [ everything in him tells him not to, that he doesn't deserve this, but for some reason, the words leave him, they want to leave him. this is what he wants. ] The minute anything happens...
[ he gets the feeling that percy understood, and that's what matters. the bridge between them has been long thrown out, and vax is waiting at the other end with a torchlight, trying desperately to guide percy across. he can't give him the answers. all he can do is try.
(and that's part of what's always made things between them just a little rocky, isn't it? because they're similar - because vax'ildan knows the way the darkness of guilt and sadness can cling to your shoulders like a mantle and drag you down.)
it's a week influenced by touch, and so when percy takes his hands, he lets him hold them, just trying to fix him with a stare, trying so hard to get how he's feeling across where his words fail him. and as percy keeps going, he shifts, and does something he does more often with vex.
vax bonks his forehead against percy's.
his voice is intense when he answers, finishing percy's sentence. ] ...then we go at it together. Whatever it is.
[ death, murder, having each other's back. that's what vox machina does. it might be vax's last chance to do so. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Let's meet again, at the end of everything.
...
he scrubs a hand over his face again, then keeps his eyes closed, head tipping up towards the ceiling. vax just holds that for a moment, thinking about - about the face of the other percy from that place. about vex'ahlia. about home.
as he pulls his hand away, vax stares up at the ceiling. ]
I need you not to die on me.
[ he'll say it. it's fine. ] Don't you fucking dare.
[ with people being possessed like last week, acting strangely, it's - it's a minute possibility.
the idea is terrifying. ]
no subject
[ percy refuses to lie, not about this. he can't offer a reassurance for something as unpredictable as death, as random as someone finding a corpse on the damned wheel. ]
I'll only agree to do my best if you do the same.
[ it's hard to think that someone else among them did this. someone killed buzen and now they're going to be left finding the pieces tomorrow at some agonizingly slow pace for the entertainment of something looking down upon them. this is hell.
percy closes his hand into a fist for a moment and focuses, before opening it up to create a small, amber-colored globe in his palm, it's warm, and the calm that drifts off of it is soft, a mild balm for the intense ache.
i don't care how many times you say you're dead. ]
no subject
...
but the second part cools his temper, takes the wind from his sails a little. vax's expression flattens, his shoulders coming down as he looks at that amber globe, and then back up at percy.
his life doesn't matter - he'll say it, over and over - but he's realizing in this moment that that's a little hypocritical.
vax exhales, and scrubs a hand over his face, shoulders hunching back up. ]
Fine. Fine.
no subject
But do remember. Just because I trust you... and put my faith in you...
[ he smiles, and it is tired and cold. ]
Don't take your eyes off of me.
[ i don't deserve the trust. your like, perhaps, but... not your trust. not in this place. where we turn on one another like a viper, where we're made to stab each other in the back by something somewhere. he thinks about that talk, in the wan light of his meager temple to the raven queen, thinks about the echo of their voices as they discussed it all--titles, heraldry, the idea that perhaps vex may wake up and realize she is worth more than titles and money and the treatment of their father.
he smiles, soft. ]
But I will indeed do my best not to die. I may near it, but you can't blame me. [ he lowers his head ] You and I both know how to do all that we can. And sometimes, that means coming close. We'll protect these people... as best we can. [ like they're our own. each one. ]
no subject
... it's strange, to have this conversation now. for vax'ildan, it's looking backwards: looking back at a percy who doesn't know what's to come, at a conversation they once had. trust has always been a commodity for vax'ildan, because for the longest time in his life, vex'ahlia was the only person that he trusted. percy earned his, lost it, and... little does he know, earned it, again.
looking at this percy, who doesn't know about killing thordak or raishaun, who doesn't know about vecna the way he does, who hasn't even realized that vax left vex in percy's hands when he had to step back and fulfill his duty to the raven queen, because he knew she'd be safe there. happy there. after everything, percy has more than earned his trust and respect.
...
but he doesn't know that yet.
(isn't that what he has to do? to guide?)
vax takes a deep breath. shoulders up, shoulders down. ]
Yeah. One step at a time. [ a beat. ] And you - you listen to me. If you do something, if I do something. I don't care. It's not you. It's not me. It's this fucking prism.
[ by which he means hey if you need me to cover a murder for you... but doesn't say so. ]
Just don't shut me out, either.
no subject
eventually, he gives a nod, a shrug that communicates in turn: i accept. ]
I won't. We're here together, aren't we?
[ his hands lift, and it's of their own volition that they find vax's and hold them. firm. steady. ]
I'll... remember that. [ everything in him tells him not to, that he doesn't deserve this, but for some reason, the words leave him, they want to leave him. this is what he wants. ] The minute anything happens...
no subject
(and that's part of what's always made things between them just a little rocky, isn't it? because they're similar - because vax'ildan knows the way the darkness of guilt and sadness can cling to your shoulders like a mantle and drag you down.)
it's a week influenced by touch, and so when percy takes his hands, he lets him hold them, just trying to fix him with a stare, trying so hard to get how he's feeling across where his words fail him. and as percy keeps going, he shifts, and does something he does more often with vex.
vax bonks his forehead against percy's.
his voice is intense when he answers, finishing percy's sentence. ] ...then we go at it together. Whatever it is.
[ death, murder, having each other's back. that's what vox machina does. it might be vax's last chance to do so. ]