Plaguedboar
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Daniil cleared his throat.
“The Powers That Be are the embodiment of order. There are always threads in the universe that dare to hang loose, and like a moth to a flame, they are always there to tug on them. The Powers That Be unravel everything simply to see what falls.”
“So what? The plague is... it's all gone.”
Daniil noted the slight tremor in Artemy’s voice. Artemy Burakh also lost many things in the chaos. He must also suffer from the nightmares. He must.
“They wanted me to die in the plague along with Aglaya and Block and yet, the more information they received from us, the more they urged us to cure the incurable. To preserve the town. Do you hear me? They will not leave a town of miracles alone. It may not be right away… but they will send someone.”
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There's no choice but to build a new life and live with the consequences, and so they do. But the events of the plague left deep wounds with the pain and fear of loss ever looming.
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“She likes you, Daniil. Sticky, too.” Artemy spoke tenderly.
"I'm here, that’s all I am.” Daniil answered back when he was able to compose himself. "Should I leave, they would adapt to it easily and find a new passing interest... or fill in the vacancy in with another presence." He kept his words ambiguous; he knew that in the core of the concept, there wasn't a mystery, he would stay until they told him it was time to go... and there many ways to tell him to go. He was always listening for them. There was a sweetness and bitterness to the new experience, timidly coming in slowly in his life, and knew it can be torn from him. He didn't know if it would be a mercy or a tragedy if it was. He still didn't know if it was a welcomed distraction, or if it was a distraction at all.
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Daniil learns fatherhood can be sweet, sour, or a mixture all at once.
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“Artemy, I told you there was nothing I wanted. You didn’t need to buy me anything; everything there is overpriced. My dear Haruspex, you could have placed the funds toward-”
“I didn’t. I mean, I didn’t buy you anything. I just wanted to give it to you after the children… I think you would want to see it with some privacy-…” Artemy let the sentence run off, doubting whether or not to give what he had in the luggage.
“Well,” Daniil started with a raised eyebrow, “I’m curious now.” He held out his hand.
Artemy didn’t realize how badly his hands would shake when handing over the package, lovingly wrapped in his scarf that he failed to use on the trip.
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Artemy goes to the Capital and brings Daniil a memento.
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“He wounds, Cub. You are aware of that.”
“Yes. But he also heals. What we saw of him back then was also a reflection of us. He became what he needed to be in order to do his duties. We were hostile to one another, Stakh. Imagine how it was for us and how it was for an outsider… how it still is for an outsider.” Artemy looked down. It’s been months since the plague ended and still others treated Dankovsky like a stranger. He treated himself as a stranger. Calling him any other thing would have felt disingenuous... but it still felt wrong.
“Of course. Humans need to adapt to their surroundings to live and survive. But snakes do not adapt when their skins shed, nor do they become anew. They become more of what they already are.” Rubin spoke slowly, choosing his words with either care or caution while looking at Daniil’s signature coat on the rack.
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Ficbook Russian Translation (WIP)/ Русский Перевод
Recent bookmarks
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[Art] Оставь панацею детям by Dejavidetc, fandom Pathologic 2023 (Ice_Pick_Lodge)
Fandoms: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
23 Jul 2023
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"Save the panacea for children. "
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- Русский
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Bookmarked by Plaguedboar
25 Jul 2023
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Whatever it was, the little voice in his head, it told him to go home.
What he’ll find home is a different story. A vast quiet, thick and swathing. A dark hush over the rooms, the kitchen, nothing but the scraping of mice and the stray cat Notkin had brought in. An absence, acute, of Isidor, still lingering in the air.
And somewhere upstairs, far and close, in a room sealed tightly shut, another man sleeping.
Or: a breaking point.
Series
- Part 1 of nos deux mains
Bookmarked by Plaguedboar
16 Apr 2022
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And so it begins.
He spends days cooped up in his study, emerging feverish, near-manic and pacing. Though they’d taken to sharing a bed for long months now, at nights, he is now a rarer and rarer guest in it.
Sleepless, he says offhandedly. But he barely touches Artemy, and Artemy hardly dares touch him, for fear—which he hardly voices to himself, at first—of being pushed away.
Or: Artemy thinks Daniil is leaving; and tries to make peace with it.
Series
- Part 3 of nos deux mains
Bookmarked by Plaguedboar
16 Apr 2022
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He inhales sharply at his own name, as though it hurts to hear it. In the pale morning light, his skin is almost greyish, paper-thin. If Artemy reached out, he could trace the sunken shape of his cheek, the small scar of a cut across it.
“Yes, you came here,” Dankovsky says at length, scarcely over a whisper. “You’ve seen—the state of me. Veni, vidi, vici—again, there’s really nothing to say.”
There’s a pause. Artemy draws in a breath. “I won’t say it, then.”
Or; Artemy goes to the Capital.
Bookmarked by Plaguedboar
16 Apr 2022
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[Art] Контраст by Dejavidetc, fandom Mor Pathologic 2025 (Ice_Pick_Lodge)
Fandoms: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
19 Aug 2025
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