[ closed ]

[finethanks]

WHO: Eichi Tenshouin, Victor Nikiforov, Yuuri Katsuki
WHERE: Oros
WHEN: January 11th
WHAT: Gamma mission "WE ARE DREAMERS, SHAPERS, SINGERS, AND MAKERS"
WARNINGS: None

[Eichi had signed up for a research mission because it seemed the perfect choice. He wouldn't be left behind uselessly on the ship, but he wouldn't be thrown directly into the danger of the main mission. It's both lucky and unlucky that the two he wound up with are familiar with his condition, to an extent. They'll be more likely to understand that if he passes out, but he's already concerned about worry. He's kept silent this whole way about how the heat has his heart beating a little too fast to be comfortable, and how every step they take now over the dry land has him aching to take a break.

He's not sure if they called to stop because they noticed, or if it was simply convenient to stop in this small, shady section just at the base of a mountain. There's been no sign of what they're looking for yet. The tent is set up, probably a little sloppily, and Eichi is sitting on a larger boulder closer to the shade of the mountain, trying to subtly catch his breath. This mostly involves staring at the little O-7G7 plants, just two of them, pressed up against the mountainside and wondering when they'll be able to find signs of the creatures that are said to live on the east side of this planet.

Realizing that he's been silent for a little too long, Eichi lifts his head to give the tent a longer look now. He didn't help with it at all, so that was probably entirely Victor and Yuuri's doing. (Or one of them.)]

How exciting. Fufu, looking at a small tent like this, and how it's a little lopsided on one end... I feel like I really am adventuring. ♪ [They are adventuring. But nevermind that, he's pushing away complications to feel excited about living.]

Comments

[yokunaru]

[Yuuri looks at his handiwork with the tent and wilts a little. Eichi's right--it is a little lopsided.]

Ah... I've never set up one of these things before. Should I redo it and try to straighten it up?

[Even with his nerves running a little high from worry, he can't help but be a little excited that they're standing on a completely different planet altogether. It's kind of amazing, even if they aren't here to have fun, exactly.]

[genice]

( Victor's adapted to the weirdness of being helmeted and in his suit and only his suit for this long by now... he's not sure how self-contained this breathing system is, but he can appreciate it functioning.

Of course, figuring out all the other kinks in the system is a whole different gamit.

He slings an arm across Yuuri's shoulders, patting the side of his upper arm. )

You did much better than I would.

( Today, at least. Viktor had seen to sorting out their supplies and getting the oxygen converter set up and connected to the tent itself. )

I'm still impressed they can make entire self-contained environments like this out of such light fabric. Here I was thinking we'd all be ruined after half a day of hiking, and we made it almost three quarters of a day.

( He can glance surreptitiously toward Eichi from the corner of his eye (and helmet); his concerns are for both younger men, but particularly Eichi with the physical labour involved in this trek. Hopefully, they'll reach one of the villages (or cities?) of the Fek soon. )

[finethanks]

[Eichi watches fondly as the two of them interact. Yuuri fretting about the tent is pretty cute, and Victor's reaction is what he would have expected from him. They're certainly a pair. He honestly isn't sure that he can stand again just yet, but he'd rather not mention that aloud. So he stays on his little rock, coughing a little and raising his hand up to his helmet as if he can cover his mouth.

Habit.]

It wouldn't be nearly as exciting if it were picture perfect, you know? This adds character. [He smiles, coughing again in place of a laugh as he keeps his hands in his lap this time.]

All of this is so different from what I'm used to. I'm sure it must be the same for the both of you. I'm only glad that it seems our days here won't be so boring, after all.

[yokunaru]

I wasn't sure we'd make it this far, either. Not in this kind of weather. [Yuuri squints up at the hot, desert sun, then across the miles and miles of sand that stretches out around them.] I wonder how much further we'll have to go to find the Feks.

[The coughing gets his attention, and Yuuri turns toward Eichi with a concerned frown. Then he glances over at Viktor, not sure if he'd be able to catch Yuuri's meaningful look through their helmets.]

The tent's set up. [His words come quiet, as usual, but steady.] We might as well take a break here and look over the information the lieutenant gave us.

[genice]

( He has a feeling he and Yuuri are more or less on the same page with regards to Eichi; they'd just been celebrating his birthday, and it won't do to be celebrating his life at his funeral anytime soon. It's still hard to say with the helmets obscuring everything, but the warp of his voice isn't so bad, and the oxygen converter is quiet enough to simply be a hum in his helmet, background noise.

He gives Yuuri's shoulder another squeeze, nodding his head as he steps away. )

No better time, and we don't know how cold it's going to drop after the sun's down. Deserts are like that, aren't they? I hadn't thought I'd find out firsthand quite like this!

( But the rest is a response to Eichi as Viktor heads on over, glancing down at the comm on his wrist. )

Boredom sounds like it's going to be the least of our worries. What was the information on their homes that we were given, again?

[finethanks]

We've been told that they live in mud "huts" and that they may not be in perfect shape because the sun is so harsh here.

[All too aware of their concerned glances, Eichi pushes himself to stand up, wanting to rid himself of this horrible feeling of being weak and useless. He takes slow steps over towards the tent to meet them there.]

In other words, in dry terrain like this, we may not notice them until we stumble upon them a few feet away. Fufu, how tricky. I wonder if they build like this with that in mind?

[With that idea questioned, he ducks a little and attempts to step into this tent.]

[yokunaru]

They could've. [Yuuri keeps half an eye on the info that he's scrolling through, and the other half on his teammates.] They're supposed to be pretty peaceful, aren't they? Maybe they prefer to camouflage themselves instead of fight.

[Squinting at the vague picture of a Fek that's been included in the mission file, Yuuri hums quietly.]

I want to say it'd be hard to miss them when they're about twice as tall as the three of us, but um, I don't want to jinx it either.

[genice]

( He waits for Eichi to make his way into the tent before gesturing for Yuuri to head in as well. )

Imagine, three times our size and camoflauged? It's too bad they don't have any recorded language. Could you imagine talking with them? Actually communicating? This can't be a first contact, since they're known and all this... ( he waves a hand, gesturing to the world around them; the stark stone faces, the scraggly trees and odd plants native to this world, the endless sands and baked ground that shows water hides somewhere under the surface. ) ... other stuff is being required.

( they're closer than they know. Viktor glances off into the distance, squinting against a haze that very well might be a mirage. stones stand in the far distance, shimmering.

stones, or the Fek? he goes still, listening and waiting. nothing seems to happen. nothing in the distance moves in any way to indicate firmly what it isn't. with a frown, he follows them inside the tent. )

We'll see about making contact sometime in the morning. No one likes unexpected guests showing up in the middle of the night.

( reaching for the sealing zippers for the tent interior, he taps a finger against his helmet as he works. the small double-stage area meant to catch oxygen leaks and carbon dioxide overflows is small and cramped; beyond it, in the oxygen rich interior, things are hardly spacious, but enough for the three of them. if they weren't afraid of sharing personal space. )

I wonder if the breathing apparatus comes out of the helmet proper.

COMM TEXTS

[genice]

( here is a thread for comm text communications, whenever they should so happen )

( kc will also provide the next starter but this felt Important )

text

[yokunaru]

Viktor, where are you? Are you able to see this?

[There's a sense of desperation, even through the text alone.]

[genice]

( the answer comes at a delay, Viktor still being carried and wrapped up at the time. )

I'm okay

still moving

you and eichi?

1/2

[yokunaru]

Viktor! You're okay!

[yokunaru]

[The sheer relief he feels as soon as he sees the message overwhelms him, and he has to take a second to compose himself before he sends off another reply.]

Eichi's resting. The shock really took a lot out of him. We should be fine with the supplies that got dropped from the tent. It's starting to get dark already so we're going to try and find you tomorrow.

Do you think you'll be ok until then?

[genice]

Night lasts longer

just remember

I will stay fine

sorry

[yokunaru]

I'll remember.

Don't be sorry. It's not your fault. Just make sure you stay fine until we find you again.

[genice]

I will

you do the same

both of you

[yokunaru]

Viktor, can you send it pictures of the location they take you to?

It might be easier to find you that way.

welcome to the madness

[genice]

( He's trussed up in the tent the Feks carry back to their village, unable to fight his way to a clear view of what's happening, and going still to conserve energy once he lets it sink in that he's not doing himself favours if he ends up injuring himself. He manages to check his comm, seeing the blinking notification from Yuuri; it's not easy to tap out a response, but he does, swaying and jostled as the Fek continue on their silent way.

He tries to pay attention to the time passing. Makes note of when Yuuri sent his message, still tracking on ship's time. He can guess at their relative speeds, but they've slowed from their initial quick rush. This is ground eating, yes, but at a walk; he listens, strains to hear through the speakers of his helmet what's going on. The Fek are all but silent, breathing in and out, grunting every so often, as one grunts when expending effort. Nothing complicated. Nothing communicating much more than effort.

He remembers there's no language on file for the Fek. Wonders if there's even a spoken language to pick up on, or if he's hearing silence because this group is used to working as a unit. A good team doesn't need verbal communication.

Or so it's always seemed in his eyes.

He can see it takes a little over half an hour of walking before the way the Fek move changes. Trussed up as he is, he doesn't see the difference. He feels it, in the slowing down and the change in jostling. In the increase of idle thumps and the thud-thud of regular movement. Then he's being settled down, far more gently than he'd been expecting. It takes a few seconds for him to register he's truly no longer moving, that the firmness underneath him isn't his imagination. That he's not sinking down through that surface, finding his way out of the confines of the tent. He emerges into a dark hut, the lingering light of the long sunset of this world visible framed through the overlarge door and the glass of circular windows. Windows inset with geometric shapes; stained glass in all different colours. The pattern it makes is deliberate, but foreign. Victor would be hard pressed to identify what it was he was looking at.

Far more immediate is the Fek that stares down at him, antennae gently twitching over the length of its broad neck. Small eyes track his movements, large, round globules of whatever it is on the Fek's face seeming to pulsate in the dark room.

only it doesn't stay dark. much as Victor moves carefully, watching the Fek as it watches him, the stiffens as light floods the room from the left. taking a careful step around, he sees the source of light: a fixture set into the wall, partially shaded with an odd covering that keeps the light from directly flooding his eyes. or the Fek's, he realises, seeing how the light is directed up and along the surface of the wall.

the Fek shifts, watching him as he carefully moves around the room, walking toward the door after there's been a lack of any movement toward him. the Fek are meant to be the more peaceful species, from what little he knew in the files. it's when he's near the door that another Fek appears, filling the frame. it's the first time he notices the actual door itself, instead of just the frame. the odd handled door has metal latches, but appears to be built out of mud and something else; it looks sturdy, whatever it is, and it stays open with what appears to be a rock keeping it that way. the Fek in the doorway lowers its head to be on about the same level as Viktor when standing. the antennae on its head weave in a breeze that Viktor doesn't feel. then they curl around, the Fek angling its head so that the antennae brush over Viktor's helmet. he's surprised at the force; he actually feels them pushing at him, especially as they drop down to his shoulders and he brings his hands up, laughing as a startled, uncertain reflex. )

Hah, that's a little too friendly when we've just met.

( the words earn a sharp exhalation from the Fek, but it doesn't press when Viktor pulls himself away, shoving at one of the antennae. it flutters, then wraps around his wrist, both stronger than it has any right to be, and more gentle in how it holds him in place.

the small eye of the Fek observes him, making decisions. the other Fek in the room holds quiet.

he's not sure what's decided, only that he's let go, the Fek who'd been holding him with that strange antennae gently tapping one foot on the ground. it waits, expectant, and Victor holds up his hands, palms out. then he glances down, and confusedly lifts the toe of his boot to tap down in turn.

if it means anything, he's left ignorant as to what. the Fek turns away and heads back out into the sunset, the second Fek in the room navigating around Viktor to do the same. he's left abruptly on his own with the tent, its supplies, and the banged up oxygen generator. he should head out, see what he can find. instead, he settles on working his way through the mess of fabric and tears in the tent, pulling out supplies and arranging them against the wall.

all the while, he has the comm on his wrist. the Fek hadn't taken that, for all he suspects they were well aware he had it. after all, the wrist he'd found held had been the one supporting the communicator.

he sends messages back and forth with Yuuri, reassurances and observations and snapshots of supplies. he's bruised and he knows it, but he's not hurt; he's far more worried right now about his fiance (who does not think they are engaged) and their young friend. Eichi can't handle physical stresses. it's not his fault. it's just a fact.

but he has to trust they'll both be okay.

it doesn't take him long to assess supplies, heading for the door to see if anyone will stop him from heading outside. no one had closed the door; as he peers outward, he sees Fek in various sizes moving along the streets between well made, well repaired almost adobe-like houses. mud, he realises, and he wonders where the water to make it all comes from.

what's more startling is the glint of jewelry and decoration he finds on the Fek moving through the streets. a few turn heads his way, antennae waving, but none pause for long. antennae are painted more often than bejeweled, but forelegs, necks, backs, nostrils, foreheads; everything that could be decorated might support some fine chained medal, interspersed with small reflective discs or what he suspects might be gems. or more glass? he lifts his comm, taking snapshots and going still again when that catches the attention of a Fek about a head shorter than the two who had been dealing with Viktor not long before. that Fek continues to watch him, but make no move toward him. it's as if he's gained an observer to maintain watch over what he does as he swallows and starts forward, trying to see where he is in this curving landscape of a village. no... perhaps it's more accurate to call it a town, or a small city. it's more expansive than he'd expected, and as he wanders (finding every so often that a Fek trails after him at a distance, the same as the one who had stopped before), he finds himself taking in the sights as he tries to navigate unfamiliar territory. there are drains set into the street; the streets themselves are almost cobblestoned, but smoother, flatter. a strange sort of patio-like paving he hasn't seen before. the walls of the buildings he passes are all made of the same mud-brick substance, but while some are undecorated, and some have windows of simply clear glass, or of heavily rippled glass, many others have rich, geometric murals painted on their sides. there are low walls dividing regions that he can't determine what is being protected; not until he sees the shade being cast in one, a Fek in careful attendance to what looks to be a nursery of leafy green plants. the sight is familiar; it has to be one of those he'd seen in their information.

his Fek watcher doesn't like him lingering too long at the walls, so aside from taking another photo, Victor keeps moving.

what he sends back to Yuuri and Eichi are shots of the skyline; the long shadows of the mountains this town is built up against, and the angle at which the sun falls down to the horizon. even where the moon is, relative to where Victor stands; all little guides in giving Yuuri and Eichi directional cues. there are lights that show him the way as he goes. he can't identify where they're powered. it might be electricity? only he's not sure. half the lights look like glowing stone, though trying to touch one had proven improbably difficult.

he thinks he's finally found the outskirts of town, no concept of how accurate it was relative to where he'd been previously; but any attempt to get beyond the final barrier of mud-brick huts is met with almost unerring resistance. a Fek that walks in front of him, coming to a stop and stamping their foot with lazily waving antennae when he tries to move past; a more direct thud of feet on ground to send him stumbling back, hands held up in a gesture of placation that he doubts is recognised.

his watcher is the one who finally decides to corral him back to where he'd been first brought. an antennae curls around his wrist and he's tugged, pulled, and jolted along; for the first time noticing as well that not only the buildings were painted. intricate designs curl over the skin of the Fek, too; in subtler colours, perhaps, but with a pleasing relationship to the earthy tones of their skin.

Viktor tries pulling his wrist away several times, by tugging on the antennae, by walking at pace with the longer limbed native, by asking, by pulling ahead. the Fek doesn't care. doesn't listen. simply marches him back to the hut he'd started out in and leaves him there, with the tent and oxygen missing, and the supplies laid out and clearly sorted through. most things have been left behind. food rations, sleeping gear, even water containers. those are stacked on a low table he hadn't noticed before; much as he hadn't noticed the significant scoop of softer sand that his escort tromps past him to pointedly wallow in. small eyes watch him, and as the Fek lifts itself back out of the softer earth, it moves around to the side and then nudged Viktor toward it with its head.

he's hoping that means they're not going to snuggle. also that he's not going to be stepping into quicksand or anything of the kind. after being shoved into the wallow, he finds himself holding his hands up again, saying okay, okay, he gets it. he'll stay. for now.

it's simply surprising how pleasantly warm the sands are even through the protective layers of his suit. if he's not off his mark, these are the normal sleeping arrangements for a Fek; but unlike earlier, this time his door is pointedly closed. he can also hear the Fek sit down outside, silent as ever.

it's going to be a long, long night. )

hopefully this works,

[finethanks]

[It's a long night for Eichi and Yuuri, as well. The latter is the one who messages Victor, as Eichi is too exhausted to stay awake the way he is. He sleeps through the night in the most uncomfortable way, waking every few hours to try and adjust how he rests with his helmet. He's found a rock to prop himself up against, but even that makes it difficult. By the time he's gotten enough sleep to feel ready to move, the sun still hasn't risen, and Eichi remembers that they were told the days and nights were longer here. He wakes Yuuri, they gather what they can and using the clues of Victor's pictures and the occasional dropped item from the tent along the way, they track him down to the well disguised city.

Well-disguised, but flashy at a closer look, with all of those decorations. Eichi likes it immediately. And regardless of how Yuuri might want to take a careful or cautious approach, he can only wait behind rocks for so long before he decides it's not enough. Ignoring the way he's sweating in his suit, and the dried blood still on the front of his helmet, he pushes up to stand and walks straight for the center of the village.

From the pictures Yuuri had shown him, Victor should be on this side of the village, so he turns his way there, hands pressing up to the strange, decorated mud buildings as he goes. He gives no warning to Yuuri about this, either. Sorry.]

[yokunaru]

Eichi, wait. [Yuuri practically hisses when his teammate begins to move. There's nothing for it, though, once Eichi's already gone in. Yuuri bites his lip and follows, eyes darting from side to side as if he's expecting the Fek to jump out and ambush them like they did the day before.

He catches up to Eichi, placing one hand on the mud huts curiously as well, though he doesn't linger too long as they move.]

Um... [Yuuri freezes in place as they walk past another mud building and nearly run into one of the Fek there. It stares at them, the antennae on its head waving as if it isn't sure what to make of them. Then it begins to lower its head, and Yuuri finds himself trying to remember if the file had mentioned what the Fek had in their regular diet. He hope they aren't about to find out right now.

Please don't eat us, he thinks at the Fek towering over them.]

[genice]

( The Fek continues to watch, and continues to loom. It's almost strange to anyone used to verbal species; there is no sound outside of the harsh exhalation as the Fek seems to snort, the curling patterns drawn on craggy skin around its eyes done in reds and oranges. It makes no move toward them beyond lowering its head, angling an eye to better look at the,, but it's as if the world they've stepped into is reacting quietly regardless.

In the part of the town where Viktor sits tracing the seam of one beautiful, albeit dark, stained glass window, the ponderous bulk of the Fek at the door shifts, moving to feet and shaking themselves off with a grunt that he almost doesn't hear. It instantly has him twisting around, careful and wary. The door eeks open, one stout limb curling around the jam and a shoulder pushing it all the way open. The Fek does little more than shake itself off again, breathing out in a long exhalation. He isn't tempted to call it a sigh.

The Fek stands in the entrance, then backs out, moving to the side. There's no indication of anything more; just the patience that follows, as if Viktor will understand despite not having any inkling of what's going on. He has the pressing feeling yet again that there is a level of communication the natives here are used to that simply isn't shared with Homo sapiens. Not surprising, but... it's such a reminder of the alienness of this all, even if he's the one who's the alien.

Having anything he can recognise is almost more startling.

While Viktor contemplates approaching the open door, many streets away, two smaller Fek amble up behind both Yuuri and Eichi. One stamps its feet in a slow, rolling manner, antennae waving idly to and fro. The Fek that had been staring them down turns away, seemingly unconcerned with these new arrivals or the strange creatures invading its space. Waiting for either man to move, and finding they don't move perhaps as the Fek expects, the Fek not shifting from foot to foot with a gentle sway leans forward and gently places its head against Eichi's back. Nudging forward. Antennae stroke forward to pat over helmet and shoulders, but take no hold; Yuuri is left with the swaying Fek, whose own antennae sweep forward and flick at him, not touching, but testing.

When both Fek move forward, it's in tandem. Attempting to steer both men down the road and along the pathway they have in mind — one that happens to coincide with where Yuuri and Eichi wish to go, though there is no way for them to know this. )

[finethanks]

[Despite his clear weariness and the dried blood on his helmet, Eichi seems in high spirits. He's terrified, to be honest, of these large creatures and the situation that they're in, but he can't show that. Showing that wouldn't help. Yuuri is frightened enough, and they need to get to Victor. So, when there's a light weight at his back and antenna reaching around to pat at him, he can only laugh to hide his nervousness.]

Fufu, it looks as though we're receiving the red carpet treatment, Yuuri. ♪ Come on. They're recorded as gentle creatures, so we should cooperate, shouldn't we? A sneak attack could have been seen as a threat, but this seems more like an invitation.

[Or a march to their executions, but he's hoping for what he said aloud and walks with that in mind.]

[yokunaru]

[Despite the "oh my god PANIC NOW" instincts that had kicked in when he noticed the Fek coming up behind them, essentially trapping them, Yuuri manages not to give in to the desire to flee. Eichi is right beside him, for one, and Yuuri has no idea how much running his friend's body can handle right now. And he's not leaving without Viktor either.

Some of the immediate panic drains away when the Fek don't attack them. They're curious about us...? Yuuri wonders, when one of them presses its head against Eichi's back, and the other merely inspects him with its antennae.]

You think they're trying to tell us to go this way?

[Yuuri tries not to flinch when one antenna prods at his helmet, and he keeps walking with the Fek guiding their way in that silent way of theirs.]

[genice]

( The antennae continues to stroke over the helmet, then down to the affixing clamps at Yuuri's neck. They draw away then, as if satisfied or curious over their findings and needing to consider the results.

The Fek drive them forward, one or the other moving to head them off from organic pathways that unfurl to the sides, or even the front; herding them by using themselves as physical blockades if they attempt to go elsewhere.

Still streets away, Viktor has edged to the door, moving with a casual roll of his hips and gentle swagger that he does not quite truly feel. Still, as he pokes his head outside to look at his large 'companion,' he finds the Fek has simply been waiting, watching normal traffic on the street. Traffic that seems to be thinning out, the ambling gait of Fek both burdened and unburdened by packages and baskets and even, in one case, an attached half-wagon, bringing them past in both directions. Only a few sway heads to look his way; more antennae twitch, as if tasting the air, but overall no move is made toward the alien in their midst.

He soon learns he's not to really leave. He's not sure what they're waiting for, but as he attempts to actually walk away from the adobe-like hut he's been ensconced in all the long, long night, his companion Fek shifts and moves to head him off. It's threat is in bulk, and nothing else; Viktor doesn't press his luck so much as continue to test it, as a child might. Poking and changing direction; walking away from one end of the door and forward facing wall to the other, seeing how far he can get before he's being firmly herded back into the radius of his temporary domicile.

He sighs, rubbing at his throat as he sends off another photograph to Yuuri.

I've been let back outside, but they're not allowing me to go walking like last night. It's as if I'm supposed to be waiting for something.

His hand at his neck seems to catch the Fek's attention. Or to prompt it into further staring, this time with antennae moving in twisting, odd ways. He doesn't know what it means. Is it irritated? Happy? Confused? Laughing? Playing a game of mental chess?

The Fek lifts its chin, then ducks its head down to Viktor's level. The large globule by its eye sweats, a thin trickle of fluid slowly leaking out. If this is a Fek crying, it's a very disturbing way of going about it. Viktor thought he had trouble handling human tears. This is even more bizarre.

Only the Fek grunts, stamping a foot when Viktor doesn't respond like it expects. Viktor would love to help, but he doesn't know what the native wants. He even holds his hands up, palms out, apologising; and finds his wrist rudely encircled by an antennae that tugs his hand down, forcing it and the glove to go under the stream of liquid leaking from the Fek itself.

It's pooling in his hand.

And for the first time, Viktor begins to suspect this might be a form of caretaking.

Mostly as he suspects he's being offered some version of water. He cups his other hand with his first, and the Fek blinks, keeping hold of his wrist until the trickle of liquid comes to a gentle stop. Then it lets go, and Viktor is left holding water in his hands and wondering how in the world he handles this situation without offending someone.

Help. )

[finethanks]

I'm almost positive. They're gentle creatures, aren't they? If they wanted us dead, even in the form of ritual or some other method that we don't understand, they would have come back for us in the night, or circled on us now. Instead, they're so calm. ♪ These rumbling footsteps are shaking right to my heart. They must be showing us something.

[Eichi is right, but in that weird way where it's unclear how he figures all of this. Instinct? He's trusting his gut, honestly, and so he follows along much more pleasantly than Yuuri. The truth is, he's just as nervous and worried that they might be directed to Victor's corpse and the following moments will be very unfortunate, but he's careful not to voice any of this.

Then, it catches his eye. Up ahead, he sees a head of silver hair and smiles. He thinks he'll let Yuuri see for himself.

But what on earth is Victor doing with that fek?]