Viktor Nikiforov (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
viktorymaker) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
recolle2017-04-09 06:26 pm
viktorymaker) wrote in recolle2017-04-09 06:26 pm
[ CLOSED ]
WHO: Yura and Viktor
WHERE: The Stardust
WHEN: 4/11
WHAT: Ice skating...????
WARNINGS: None, I hope
[ It's a nice day! It's sunny and warm, and Makkachin is happy. Viktor is in a great mood too, now that he's finished a job he was working on remotely, which means that he can just walk around with his poodle and not have to think about anything while he does. For a change. Everything is fantastic.
So when he notices that he and Makkachin have somehow ended up right in front of the Stardust, he stops, and actually remembers-- wasn't this the place where Yura worked?
The two of them haven't spoken much outside of class after their... argument? about Yuri's Angels last month. So since he's already here, he might as well go in and say hi to Yura if he's there, and try to break the ice (pun intended). ]
Wait for me here, Makkachin. Be a good boy, OK? I'll be back soon.
[ He pats Makkachin's head affectionately, ties his leash to a column under the shade, and goes in.
Viktor doesn't really know what to expect from the place, since he hasn't been ice skating since he was a teenager. And he also has no idea of what Yura does there. So he's a little curious, too.
But first things first. Where might Yura be? ]
WHERE: The Stardust
WHEN: 4/11
WHAT: Ice skating...????
WARNINGS: None, I hope
[ It's a nice day! It's sunny and warm, and Makkachin is happy. Viktor is in a great mood too, now that he's finished a job he was working on remotely, which means that he can just walk around with his poodle and not have to think about anything while he does. For a change. Everything is fantastic.
So when he notices that he and Makkachin have somehow ended up right in front of the Stardust, he stops, and actually remembers-- wasn't this the place where Yura worked?
The two of them haven't spoken much outside of class after their... argument? about Yuri's Angels last month. So since he's already here, he might as well go in and say hi to Yura if he's there, and try to break the ice (pun intended). ]
Wait for me here, Makkachin. Be a good boy, OK? I'll be back soon.
[ He pats Makkachin's head affectionately, ties his leash to a column under the shade, and goes in.
Viktor doesn't really know what to expect from the place, since he hasn't been ice skating since he was a teenager. And he also has no idea of what Yura does there. So he's a little curious, too.
But first things first. Where might Yura be? ]
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It means he gets the first five minutes after the ice is clean all to himself. It's the current deal, and why he lifts his head up and pulls down "his" skates to dead to the rink. Herding everyone off includes offering an arm for an older man having difficulty staying on his feet, but everyone's taken care of, more or less. Encouraged to head over to the inner room by the front rental desk for the machines with their eh coffee and surprisingly decent hot chocolate.
Yuri, meanwhile, watches the zamboni with its fake eyelashes and giant eyes painted on the front make its rounds, waving once to the driver and otherwise zoning out. The music playing over the loudspeakers is unremarkable; he blinks himself back to awareness midway through a stretch, hearing the zamboni driver call out she was done.
Yuri found himself smiling. For now, the ice is his, though he's more than used to the crowded, gentle chaos that the rink devolves into most the time. As he steps out on the fresh ice, he skates forward, loving that sound and the feel of his own movements. Relaxing in a way that's hard to quantify, because it's not a physical relaxation. Skating demands form, demands a kind of beautiful functionality that he slips into as he goes into a crossover, lazy in his initial arc. Switching back and forth, he turns, spins, just enough to give variance to his movement. He pulls his gloves on tighter as he moves through another turn, seeing only the marks of his own skates cutting up the ice. Just like that, he slips into part of Yuuri's program, a twist and a turn and the movement of his arms as they come up to accentuate his movements.
He's stopped trying to replicate the way that Yuuri moves in his dream. His memory; or whatever else it is. Yuuri is Yuuri. Yuri is Yuri. He doesn't know if fighting with his ill advised, passing crush had been a catalyst for much more than feeling like an idiot, but it'd cleared out something for Yuri: narrowed his interest in seeing Yuuri perform as Yuri knew he could, because he's seen it in the months long before he found Yuuri skating seduction in his dreams.
Seducing Viktor, of course. Yuri hadn't been oblivious to that, and neither had his... whatever Viktor is. There'd been no context to explain it, before Yuri had been turning away with that feeling of having lost something precious he'd never had in the first place. So no, Yuri doesn't skate the way Yuuri does; he is sassy, almost, flirtatious, definitely, but there's an edge of challenge that is provocative of catch me if you can and no promise that, in catching him, you ever had him at all. He retains that feminine flair, one that had caught his attention from the first for recognising the subtle differences in form from years of ballet. Just a touch of what he can take and run with, but it isn't the same flavour, and he knows it.
He doesn't want it to be. This is fun, in a way that's almost ridiculous, considering how he breaks out of routine when he didn't like how he landed a jump, frowning and listening to a part of himself that lectured on what had gone wrong: as if there's a spectre shouting at him from across the ice that he responds to, picking up speed and digging his toe pick into the ice so that this time, this time his quad salchow feels like it should. Well landed, and then he's moving right into the last quarter of Yuuri's programme, paying so little attention to anyone at the sides of the rink until they join him on the ice. A few younger kids, one who claps and laughs; the older man from earlier, clinging to the side of the rink as he gamely tries once more.
And Viktor at the rinkside, if he'd listened to the man at the rental counter. "Where's Yur-who? Yuri's on ice right now." )
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After all, there was a time when they wanted to get Viktor into figure skating, hilariously enough. Back when he was a child. Viktor can't even imagine what that might have been like-- himself as a skater? The thought is a little amusing. Figure skating in general has always reminded him of his experiences with ballet competitions, with its scoring systems and its traditionalist judges, and the obsession with form, and the corny music, and...
Lost in thought as he walks in, he takes a seat. It's cold in here, which also reminds him of St. Petersburg. And when he notices that Yuri is the one on the ice, he's already missed the timing to call out to him. Yuri seems focused, and he moves confidently on his skates... Beautifully, even. So Viktor waits, and watches.
He's only familiar with the basics of skating, but he still recognizes many things in Yuri's movements. Such as his ridiculously high level of skating skill-- what was that jump? There's also the influence of ballet, which is nice to see. And the hint of Spanish dance in the choreography, maybe Flamenco?
There's also no way he can avoid noticing that whatever Yuri is skating is not a good fit for him. But that seems to happen often in figure skating, so he doesn't give it much thought. Bad fit or not, it's still impressive. And he seems to enjoy it, which also shows.
When Yuri is done, Viktor waves at him from his seat at the rinkside to catch his attention. ]
Wow! I didn't know you skated!
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He's hesitant, at this stage, to try and master them on his own. Why spend more time on this? It's a hobby. An intensely... athletic hobby. One that makes him feel almost free when he finds that space where his mind goes blank and stops shouting at him for everything else he's juggling in his daily life.
He doesn't expect Viktor. It's almost uncanny, given what he'd just been skating, interrupted a performance (contemplative a performance) as it was. Yuri's head jerks up as he comes to an abrupt stop; ice shavings spraying up as he goes still. He looks surprised, utterly surprised, before his expression twists into something forcibly neutral and closed off. Viktor's never been here before. Sure, he knows where Yuri works: everyone at the studio does.
But he's not supposed to be here. It's funny, how defensive he almost feels, like him being here is taking something from Yuri that he knew wasn't his. Only it was his. Only it wasn't? It's confusing. )
Did you ever ask?
( Is what he calls out, over the heads of the little girls skating after their mother with childish squeals of enjoyment, each hanging on to the other. Yuri skates forward when they pass. He doesn't feel like shouting; he just leaves enough room for someone to get by him holding on to the wall. It keeps him out of Viktor's reach, too: a fact he enjoys, for whatever reason.
Sometimes he wants to be beyond where Viktor can touch him. But only when it comes to anything personal. The parts of himself Yuri has trouble even sharing with people who've declared they're his friends.
Honesty prompts him into adding: )
I haven't been skating for long.
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I never thought of asking.
[ It's even colder here than it was back where he was sitting, though, so he rubs his hands together in an attempt to warm them up. ]
So how did you learn to jump like that? It's very impressive, but risky.
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( Viktor's not precisely meant to hear that. It's a quieter statement, muttered under Yuri's breath from where he stands. It's not a fair statement, and it's honestly not about the ice skating. He rests his hands on his hips, squaring off against Viktor.
Nothing about his ice skating is normal. Some people, some friends, were gaining superhuman abilities, and some super terrible memories. Not necessarily hand in hand, but that's nothing to bring up now.
Instead he considers his answer, eyes narrowing a fraction, chin tucking in just enough that Viktor's liable to notice. Yuri's squaring off against something, though it probably doesn't make sense without context that he's squaring off with Viktor. )
I don't know. All this? Even the muscle memory for how these things feel? Just came to me.
( Hallucinomemories strike again. But the physical ability, the body memory, that had come without anything to explain it. He'd known he could manage things. Could replicate parts of JJ's failed routine, and then Yuuri's, once that dreamed memory had stolen over him. )
Before two months ago I'd never been ice skating in my life.
( Or his remembered life. Who knows what happened when he was really little. He waits, watching Viktor closely, waiting for any kind of refuting, denial, refusal to accept what that means. A different sort of physical and mental alteration, giving people a capacity that should only be possible with years and years of dedicated training.
The other thing it points out is how he'd avoided ice skating or potential injury on the ice for the entire time he'd been working at the ice rink since he first picked up part time work there. Why the change? )
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And what he knows is strange. Incomprehensible. Obviously false. And also irrefutable, somehow. What he saw in Yuri's skate makes sense now, and that's a weird thought, because it doesn't feel alien.
Viktor only knows the basics of skating. Yuuri and Yuri are dancers. Just like he is.
And yet... ]
But that wasn't your short program. That was Eros.
[ It's not a question. Except that it is. ]
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Only partially.
He leaves his hands on his hips, lifting his chin a fraction. The recollection comes to him with the same surety as knowing this programme had never been his in the first place. Just as he responds to the question that is and isn't a question with his own statement issued as fact. )
Which you assigned to the Katsudon, not me. I know.
( But he doesn't remember Agape. Didn't even know until right now that it had certainly been Viktor who assigned the both of them a short program... and that did make Yuri a skater too? Yuuri was, that was undeniable in memory; Viktor had to be, if he was choreographing short programs. If he was so sold on and enchanted by Katsudon's Eros — wait.
Katsudon?
He knows he means Yuuri Katsuki, but what the hell kind of a nickname is katsudon? And why, of all things, does it fit with what he remembers of the short program that's replayed through his head for well over a month by now? )
I'm surprised you remember.
( More surprised Viktor's admitting it, because by admitting this, he's admitting to "remembering" things which are certainly not part of their lives here.
Yuri, for his part, wants to petition Retrospec to end up entangled in other people's lives. The frustration and all the other negative emotions he's caught from some of his memories don't exactly endear him toward the only people he's seen in those memories and knows in Recolle. Though this is the first first confirmation from either older man that they, too, can corroborate some of the details of his memories.
Exactly what he'd been talking about back at the studio last month before he'd walked out on Viktor's "generous" offer. )
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Still, he's aware that Katsudon is one of Yuuri's favorite foods; he's mentioned that before. And while he didn't expect Yuri to know about it, he remembers the Jazzercise thing so he doesn't even blink at his use of Katsudon. ]
I did, huh.
[ So Yuri thought he'd assigned them? Ah, because he was Yuuri's coach. At least according to Yuuri's Retrospec memories-- so he was supposed to be a figure skating coach. Was he supposed to be Yuri's coach as well? The two choreographies felt like adequate fits for both, even though Yuri hadn't been able to communicate Agape correctly...
Yuuri could embody Eros for sure, but he'd already known that, from the moment they'd met here in Recollé, months ago. Was this maybe inspired on their first meeitng? Did Retrospec borrow from people's memories? Did they have the entire city under watch? Or was this real somehow, which was what he found himself believing when he didn't make an active effort to rationalize it?
What a can of worms.
Better to ignore all of that for the moment. In this sort of situation, instinct is usually his best option. And so, turning it all off, he replies honestly. ]
I don't remember that much. But why is it surprising?
[ Viktor was more surprised by Yuri's skating before he remembered any of this, personally. ]
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To be honest, part of him resents Viktor being there at all. A smaller part of himself is thrilled. He doesn't pay attention to the part of himself that wants to be validated by Viktor. This isn't the time, and it isn't the place. )
Because I can't figure out what you get out of it by saying you can remember part of anyone else's memories. Except maybe Katsudon's.
( He tests that name out now, rolling it over his tongue. There's no further spark of intuition or memory. Just a word, and an association, and something about how Yuuri skates. )
And I'm not all that fucking interested in whether or not you ever managed to get him laid.
( Not Viktor: he's certain Viktor could if that's what he wanted. It's adding Yuuri into that equation that gets tricky. Yuri knows that much. But there's a certain resigned bitterness there he can't fully explain, and so he decides that's enough. He's a teenager. Viktor's currently not holding anything over his head that means he has to respect him when he's not in the mood. Not here, and if Viktor's petty elsewhere, then fuck him anyway. Yuri will just have to work harder. (???)
He's rarely in the mood these days, overtired, overworked, and underfed. He's figuring that out, too. Rubbing one hand over his face with muttered nonsense in Russian, Yuri shifts his weight, turning and intending to head back to skating. Whomever he hears in his memories speaks to him in voices that are not Viktor's.
He's better off listening to those damn ghosts than Viktor Nikiforov. They're more helpful. More available, though Yuri doesn't even know that's something he looks for in the adults around him. Looks and finds almost universally lacking. )
Dasvidanya, Vitya.
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Still, it's not his words that are confusing to Viktor, it's the way Yuri says them. Sure, the younger man is volatile and temperamental at the best of times. But there's still something about this, and about the way he left when they were talking the last time, maybe even about the way he was skating Yuuri's program? It all paints a strange picture when you put things together like Viktor is doing right now...
The question forms itself before he can truly think it through, disregarding Yuri's wrap-up of their awkward exchange with spontaneous confusion. ]
Are you actually mad at me?
[ He is, hilariously enough, a little incredulous! He also asks this too loud to be easily ignored, sorry to say. In fact, a couple of people look at him and then at Yuri and just stay that way, becoming invested in the potential drama. ]
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it's the fact he asks loud enough that Yuri can't feasibly pretend he didn't hear that gets under his skin. Yuri twists around, skating backward and glaring across the ice from where he stops. he can't get caught up in drama, he knows that, because he works here and he'll get his ass hauled into the manager's office for disrupting the rink environment. thoughts he's prefer to ignore, but he can't afford to: literally cannot afford getting into trouble and either being cut down on hours right now, or hell, worst case scenario, being fired.
he cuts back across the center of the ice at an angle, ignoring Viktor until he's stepped off, walking past and gesturing back toward the front room with a violent jerk of his head. )
Will you stop being so freaking obnoxious where I work?
( his body language radiates irritation. it's not even fully deserved; part of him respects Viktor very much, but he doesn't like a dismissive attitude rolled in with memories that are unsettling to him even while they're at least not memories of him dying. he can't say the same for all his friends. )
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Since he's aware of exactly none of Yuri's financial troubles, he doesn't get why that matters. He glances from Yuri to the rink (is it okay for him to leave the ice if work ethics are so important to him?), then back at Yuri (Well then), and settles for following him wherever he's going. ]
Hmm. I suppose that was too loud.
[ The question of whether it was on purpose or just him being an airhead is up for debate! Thankfully, it's also irrelevant at this point. ]
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he may partly be looking for a fight just about anywhere. he even knows that; ignores it because he can. not because he should. )
What, specifically, do you want, Vitya.
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I just want to know why you're mad at me.
[ People he works with get angry at him all the time, but he doesn't think he's done anything earn this from Yuri of all people. In fact, he thinks he's doing a pretty good job as a teacher, considering. ]
Is it the Retrospec memories?
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Right now, he's trying very, very hard for neutral and failing spectacularly at anything other than annoyed. )
More like your attitude about them. ( he pauses, furrowing his brow and wheeling on Viktor, jabbing at the air between them with his finger. ) Where's the "that may or may not be memories we may or may not be led into believing may or may not be real?"
( He wants to know where the qualifier went, and if it's about to crop up again. If it is, he's out of here. All the confusion his own returning memories give him are secondary to not wanting to deal with another adult's shit tossed at him, in his opinion. Oh ye of little faith. )
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[ He gestures at the ice with a wave of his hand. How to explain that he was intrigued? That he liked what these memories had brought him so far? ]
But that doesn't mean I can't accept that something is happening. These memories feel real, some of them match, and your skill has to come from somewhere. I don't see any harm in working with this to see where it leads, so I'm trying to keep my mind open.
Is that a problem?
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Like hell he's saying that. He grits his teeth and turns his face away. )
They overwrite the world. They can overwrite us. Nothing about it has to mean anything.
( But as much as Viktor believes it means something, that these memories are true, Yuri believes the same. It's the fact he agrees but can't trust Viktor to do anything but...
God, what does he expect? Most adults are useless. He knows that. Relying on them has a lifetime history of let-downs. Yuri feels his shoulders hunching, and he tries to make himself stop. It doesn't work. )
Do whatever you want. Just leave me out of it. I'm not here for your convenience.
( which brushes up against what it is he's most scared of, what he pulls away from people so hard over, and what has him pulling, physically, away from the space Viktor occupies now. )
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The last part is what really gets a reaction out of Viktor, though. ]
Who said you were? [ Yuri just earned himself a wry smile. How nice it must be to be young enough to honestly believe that people can be used so cleanly, that people can be convenient at all. ] No one is here for anyone's convenience.
[ He catches himself before elaborating on that, though. His problems are his own. And he gets it now, Yuri is angry and lashing out, and he doesn't want to talk to him, which is fair. He knows he's not truly good at giving advice or comforting people anyway.
Makkachn must be bored out there. He turns and starts walking away. ]
Well, enjoy the ice. Who knows, maybe I'll join you there in a few days.
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... exciting? almost as good as meeting Yuuri on the ice.
he hates all that, too. but for someone who has self-isolated, and who sees little reason to trust, he just carries on doing what he does best: pushing aside the rest of the world. (except where, you know, four people have wiggled their way right in.) )