ALL THAT MATTERS • a psl post

[galvanised]

my head is heavy, my limbs are weary,

and it is not life that makes me move.

Comments

[galvanised]

{ The... Creation is gone. Victor can still feel himself tremble, shake. It is not a welcome feeling for a surgeon with such precise and steady hands - such precise and steady will. Terror and regret fill him to the core as the monster's words echo in his mind.

Demon.

This evil, this abomination. It is all his own doing. He has brought the wrath of his own twisted curiosity to life. Risking his own. And now risking Proteus as well. He cannot lose him. His work has been perfected. And when he looks into the round and hopeful eyes of Proteus and sees all the wonder and innocence of the world captured in them, he knows he must protect Him from It. Victor begins to pace after countless and agonizing moments still at the table. }

We're no longer safe here.

{ He says as he paces the room, beginning to pack their things. Where will they go?

Demon.

A-another book, one on anatomy, placed in his bag. }

[relearn]

Victor.

[ Hurts. His back. It hurts. No blood though, no... no kill, like the whale, like Victor said. He stands again. His song is frozen in his throat, like bread, but he can't swallow it. Today, they saw a frigate. Today, they saw a demon.

A demon? ]

Victor - are we going? Walk again, Victor, yes?

[ He looks up. No sun through the window anymore. Night - it's night now. Will they see the Everything again?

He will need his hat. ]

[galvanised]

{ Yes. It may be back to finish what it started.

He looks over his shoulder to see Proteus in search of his hat. He's learning quickly. Or is he remembering quickly? Victor still has to tell him what he is, why he can suddenly recall things of his previous life.

What if he wants to return to it?

Only the most important things should be taken. }

We'll have to find a hotel for the night...

{ Which may prove difficult given the state of his funds. Anywhere out of the weather - out of sight will prove to be useful to them. Victor hardly stays still, fitting all he can in the limited space. }

[relearn]

[ Hotel. Proteus doesn't know this word. His hat - his hat, there it is. He pulls it on like he's supposed to. Find a hotel.

Find... his coat. He puts it on. It's inside out, but he doesn't notice. Victor will do the buttons, like before, it will be okay. Keep calm. Is the Everything still there? Are the fairy lights? ]

Ah.

[ Eyes widen and he turns suddenly from his task, darts across the room, muscle memory practiced in quick movements when he doesn't think about it. When he thinks, it goes slower. Bits of him get in the way. But he's not thinking, he's finding.

My mother taught me many things.

Victor's mother.

Does he have a mother?

He returns in a moment, holding too tight in both hands - a book. Proteus smiles, wide, proud. Holds it out. ]

Shakespeare.

[galvanised]

{ He's absolutely going to need these few tools, his scalpels and knives and needles. Clothes. Clothes, what few he had, would also be necessary. At least one more set other than what they had on--

Victor suddenly looks up from his task. First, at the book. Then, at the-- man holding it. More memory, more aptitude for learning. He offers a breath of a laugh and a warm smile. }

Yes. Very important. Thank you, Proteus.

{ This, at least, will be essential should they not be able to return. Somehow, and he isn't sure how, that interruption has allowed him to clear his mind and to calm. }

We might stay in the back room for the night. Save what little we can. Of course, it could probably easily find us...

{ What's to say it couldn't easily find them no matter where they go? Maybe he'd figure it out as they walked. The most important fact of the matter is leaving. He pulls out of the laboratory to actually pack clothes and money and whatever else valuable not kept there. Proteus may follow. The door was kept open for him, after all. }

[relearn]

[ He's trying to do the buttons for himself, following along. Frowning at them because they're wrong. He doesn't understand. They're wrong and they won't--

Proteus nearly walks into the door frame. Drops a step back, looking up at it as if it jumped out at him. ]

Sorry...

[ His eyes stay on it, muttering, fingers still on forgotten buttons, giving it a wide berth. Be careful. Keep calm. ]

Victor.

[ The name is a - an anchor. Like the frigate, like he remembers. The ocean pushes and the anchor holds the ship steady. The Everything pushes and Victor holds Proteus steady.

He has called somebody that before. ]

Can I help?

[galvanised]

[ As panicked - as worried - as he is, Proteus's voice is grounding. He looks terrified. Granted, he should be. But Victor has no idea how much of his natural ability to defend himself still lingers. He only knows that fight or flight will take over when necessary. If the man Proteus was before the type to fight... He may lose him.

He has to keep calm for both their sakes. As weak as it is, he does give a smile in return. ]

Will you hand me that?

[ Only the essentials. He cannot leave his basic tools should they never be able to return. It can stay next to this bag if only to make sure nothing is forgotten in haste. ]