‘ so this is where you take refuge? ’ for percy from vex!
Percy had noted the door opening, creaking against the unoiled hinges. It was intentional on his part, despite the grating sound it was a means of knowing when anyone had entered his space. He probably looks like a madman, but he can't quite care. He felt most like himself here, hunched over a handful of chaotic sketches. They were ideas, concepts. There were bits & pieces of potential gadgets & weapons assembled all around, but nothing quite complete. It was easier for him to jump from idea to idea than to be stopped by any creative walls.
There was a method to his madness, this was just one of his many idiosyncrasies. There had been a time when he had been so particular about his workshop, who came & went. the only person permitted to experience him in his element had been his sister, though such years had passed... He had long discarded the luxury of privacy. It was less lonely that way.
Percy was especially delighted to hear Vex's voice, to meet her gaze (though it's not something he could yet admit.) Perhaps this is why it takes him a moment to fully process her words. Or maybe it's just the effort it takes to recalibrate his brain, shifting his attention from his work to her.
Percy straightens his stance with a crunch between his shoulders, asserting how long he had been consumed by his task at hand. He pushes silver hair from his eyes, leaving a streak of charcoal on his forehead. But in Greyskull Keep he knew anyone who walked through that door was welcome here. The servants generally steered clear of his workshop unless there was an accident & he couldn't keep the rest of Vox Machina out if he tried.
" Refuge is a strong word, " he muses, though it is an accurate description. Percy was still getting used to having his own space again, having the luxury of melting his emotions down into iron bullets of his own making. he was sure Vex was getting use to it too, adjusting to having such autonomy over her surroundings. It was different for all of Vox Machina, a home they called their own... there wasn't much to seek refuge from, but it gave him room to be in his element.
His lips finally break into a small smile, betraying him nearly as much as his voice. they all had much to hide, facets of themselves they may never share... But he didn't feel like he has to hide much from her. If Vex wanted to know something about him, he had no doubt she would find out. It was part of the draw he felt towards her, the control she weilded imposing & incredible all at once. So Percy had opted to cut out the complicated bits. She didn't need to see all of him, but the bits he put forth would be real.
Before Vox Machina had been awarded with Greyskull Keep, things had been messy, often. They still were & Percy was sure it would always be that way, but now it felt incredibly real. Like there was a more tangible connection between them all that they could do something good with. Not that good had always been their prerogative, but it was an option for the first time in a long time.
" Amazing, isn't it?, " he can't keep the impending fondness from his voice ( not that he tries to ).There is an implied question in his next words as he wonders where Vex finds peace... he imagines it's somewhere alive, secluded, wonderful. If she isn't apt to share, he may even have time to find out one day. It was clear they were in it for the long run, especially as the permanence of it all had settled in, " I'm sure we all have places like this now. "
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honestly no wonder harrow forced ianthe to lobotomize her so she could save gideon. listen…LISTEN…if i was a secret-war-crime cult nunlet princess worshipped by my entire planet and the only person that (barely) kept me in check was my childhood nemesis—a butch a year older than me, towering over me in stature and physical prowess, and so hot it made my teeth hurt from how hard my jaw clenched in her presence, who wielded a two-handed seven-foot sword and had irritatingly huge biceps and told very lewd stupid jokes and also learned how to wield an entirely new weapon and be my bodyguard with startling accuracy in three months—only to have us finally learn to trust each other because we got invited to a magic murder mystery and then before the bubble burst i spilled the worst secret about myself that i was born because my parents murdered an entire generation and tried to Kill Her along with them and she just wouldnt die, and i told her this expecting a swift death i believed i deserved, only for her to fucking cradle me in her big butch arms and kiss me on my forehead with her soft butch mouth and just. forgive me for a shameful weight ive carried my entire life and then MAKE AN ACTUAL NECRO/CAV VOW with me despite every evil thing i have done to her……to have her tell me, in the end, bleeding and broken after putting up the most beautiful and glorious fight of her life, that she understands purpose and she understands duty and she knows loyalty more fiercely than ever now, that she knows who she is to me, that there is no her without me….to have her backed into a corner and make the ultimate sacrifice…..for me…..to recite scriptural wedding vows of eternity to me in her last wisps of soul-consciousness…..if i thought there was even a snowflake’s chance in the pyre that i could save her by turning myself into her very own locked tomb, i’d be begging ianthe tridentweirdius to crack my skull open and turn me to mush too, goddamn. i understand you harrowhark girl you don’t have to explain a thing to me. god said you couldn’t undo the lyctor’s bond bc it’d kill you. you told god and his angels that not even a lyctor’s bond could outshine the power of female spite and lesbianism and they didn’t listen. they didn’t believe you. but i heard you loud and clear and i was 17 and hormonal and hopelessly romantic not too long ago unlike those fucking dinosaurs and i’m saying it’s valid it’s what i would have done and really everyone should be thanking you for not being worse and more wretched about it, all things considered
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