psychoshenanigans | GRATIA // PSL

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GRATIA // PSL

The first thing he feels is the cold.

It permeates everything down here on the lower levels. What little warmth humans have made for themselves is greedily gobbled up by the stone walls that surround them on all sides. Despite the stirring of people in the streets, in their homes, and around corners, this place feels like a grave. A similar sense seems to loom over the heads of most who make their way through this deep, dark part of the world, hovering around them like a cloud of inevitability. No one has been outright sentenced to death, but they may as well be.

Upon waking, Tek will have found himself in a dark, wet alleyway. Attempts to orient himself reveal that he has been brought, somehow, to an impressively large network of tunnels that all lead, more or less, to three or four larger chambers. There is far more vibrant life above him somewhere, far, far above the layer of caves he's in now, and there is also a very deep, sluggish form of life somewhere far below his feet.

No one is coming to get him. No one follows him in his immediate vicinity--the few stragglers hanging around doorsteps and windows don't give him a second glance, or even a first one. The place is crowded, but not busy. Everyone keeps their heads down. The people are all dressed poorly, in rags and robes and bundles that suggest a certain level of consistent poverty all throughout the level. The buildings in these tunnels look man-made, either built from scrap or carved straight out of the rock of the cave, but the majority of the actual roads and cave walls seem to have been formed with very little help from human hands.

The place is lit with lanterns and dirty-looking florescents suspended high above in the cave ceiling. The air is thick and stuffy, the smell of mold and mud prevalent over even the smell of human stagnation. It would not be hard to drag someone off, and he gets the immediate feeling that if he did, it's unlikely that anyone would come looking for them.

What does he do?

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Oh yes. [Robin's eyes widen with the truth of that statement.] That's just kind of... the way of things, in these circles. My own interests aside.

[speaking of his interests, he tips his head onto Tek's shoulder. it's a very easy gesture, as if he was only doing it incidentally. maybe he just needs to rest his head. it's nice, though, reminds him of a few things that flit in and out of his cloudy memory like birds flitting through the branches of a tree.]

Mm. [he remembers one very good memory from a long time ago, while looking out at the spot his two acquaintances had long-since disappeared from.] We should dance. Would you save me one, before the night is over?

[the dragon's eyebrows quietly raise at just how heartily Robins agrees to his comment, and he remains in a casual state of consternation until Robin's question. then, he glances sideways at him, eyebrows still up.]

...You remember that dancing isn't exactly my favorite activity, don't you?

[he's recalling the same event, but it's remembered a little differently for him than it is for Robin.]

Yeah, but it's mine.

[he turns his head to look up at Tek with a playful smirk and a look that says, 'this should be enough to convince you to just go along with it anyway'.]

I'm basically letting you run wild all night--it's the least you could do, don't you think?

[he doesn't think it's going to work, but that doesn't stop him from trying to ego his way through the conversation anyway.]

[with their faces so close, it's easy to lean just a bit and plant a sweet, small kiss on Robin's cheek. a little bit patronizing, maybe, but very cute.]

I'll consider it.

[--that tone, however, is definitely patronizing.]

[after all these years, multiple multiverses, times together and times apart... Robin still doesn't know what to do with a kind gesture of affection like that one. even if it is deservedly patronizing.]

Thanks. [he tries to say it sarcastically enough to throw off suspicion, but it's a hopeless effort. he's suddenly antsy, sitting up, hoping that whatever stupid color is rising in his face isn't enough to be seen under the strange, mismatched lighting.]

I'm going to go get a drink. [he announces to compensate.] You want anything?

Unless they have something to snack on, [a leg of boar would be nice right about now,] I'm fine.

[he smiles in the sweetest and most trustworthy way he can, which is almost a decent imitation of the expression.]

I'll wait right here.

Nah, that's across the way.

[Robin says this as he gets back to his feet, waving vaguely in goodbye as he steps away from their little sitting place.]

Be right back. [the end of his remark gets swallowed up by more applause as the singer finishes her (well, maybe) song. after a short, buzzing silence, something a lot more lively starts getting played on stage, and the singer actively invites all of them to come dance, sending many people off of the floor and away from their tables to join the growing mass up at the front of the cave.

there are still plenty of people hanging back, though. it's no easier for Robin to get to the bar, having to squeeze in between two large men waiting for their own turns. he asks for something strong--fully expecting that when he turns around, Tek will be long gone.]

[in all fairness, if Robin happens to glance back right after arriving at the bar, Tek might even still be there. at least at that point.

because, he needs to gauge the territory, first. he can't just dive in without a plan, unlike some people. he needs to see what's interesting, who the predators and the prey are, what everyone around him is doing.

he needs to pick a game before he can play it.]

[this is a good move; it only takes a little bit of patient watching to notice that there are plenty of options available to him. for instance, at one of the tables (this one is actually a table this time and not just pillows on the floor) furthest from the crowd, two men are watching him. they're both sporting the same closely-buzzed haircut, and have similar, sunken eyes. they both look like they could take their own in a fight. they would be easily passable as working-class nobodies, if it weren't for the fact that both of them have bits of sharp, angry-looking metal grafted into their arms and hands.

on the other side of the bar, a younger girl with long dark hair and a nervous expression is staring at the singer up on stage. some older man tries to start up a conversation with her as he passes by, clearly asking her to come dance, but she looks darkly at him before shaking her head and going right back to staring at the stage. the man continues to ask once, than twice, but she says nothing--and soon he gives up to go inevitably complain to his other friends about the whole thing.

if Tek wants something a little less challenging, there's always cards. a boy and a girl in ripped clothing and heavy makeup are playing some kind of game against each other in one of the pillow pits. part of the game involves slapping one's hand down on a pile of cards while the other person tries to set their hand down on other piles around them at lightning speed. the couple of people watching them seem to be entertained, laughing between sharing cigarettes and passing around round disks as the players win or lose.]

[Tek takes a moment to weigh his options, predict which opportunities might disappear while the others remain open... and also judge which would require the least amount of effort right off the bat. and while he plots, he makes sure to broadcast his apparently short attention span to anyone who may be watching. he needs to make sure that him hopping up to go bother someone for probably-harmless reasons would make sense to potential observers. a knee bounces, he leans on his hand as he scans the crowd--

and, ah. he easily narrows in on which one would be easiest to experiment with right from where he's sitting.

he locks eyes with the pair at the table once he notices that he is definitely the target of their stare, and smiles wide. he gives them a friendly wave for good measure, just to watch what they do with it.]

[once they're waved at, one man looks at the other and frowns, shaking his head a little bit. the other says something back, shrugging, gesturing with a nod of his own head towards Tek. they seem to be discussing something about him, trying to come to a decision.

one of them looks back over at the bar, where Robin is still acquiring a drink, before waving Tek over to come and sit with them. the other one pushes a third chair away from the table with his foot.

they look mean, but that doesn't mean a lot down here. they don't seem to be looking for a fight, at the very least.]

[and even if they had been looking for a fight, self-defense is the best excuse he could possibly ask for--especially since Robin never did get around to clarifying that rule about violence.

so, Tek pretends to consider it. he also casts a look back at where Robin is lost to his conquests at the bar and takes a minute to make it seem like he needs to make up his mind, before he finally stands up.

he smooths out the wrinkles in his outfit on the way over, as these junk-heaps seem like fine fellows that deserve him looking his best. as a stranger from the Capitol, he is a guest in their city, after all. and he stops just shy of actually sitting down in the offered chair, waiting to see if they have anything to say upon his arrival or if they're going to make him make the first move.]

[the two of them don't seem particularly impressed with his good fashion or polite manners. as Tek comes closer, the larger of the two says something to the smaller one in another language, guttural and full of harsh consonants. the other one nods, not taking his eyes off the stranger before them.

while it may not be apparent to outsiders, Tek can clearly tell that the both of them are dying. the things in their arms look painful, leaving the skin sickly and inflamed, slowly poisoning the rest of their bodies with every beat of their still-living hearts. they probably only have months to live, a year at the very most.]

Hey, stranger. [the smaller one greets Tek gruffly, nodding to the seat in case he hadn't gotten the idea.] Why don't you have a seat.

[Tek graciously accepts the invitation, still sticking to all the rituals of manners and poise as he takes a seat. again he smooths out his coat, and he folds his hands politely on the table--but he assumes that these two can see that his smile doesn't reach his eyes. his enjoyment of being invited to their table is all genuine, but he's not quite an actual idiot.]

I find myself honored that you would ask me to join you. Unless I'm entirely mistaken, you two don't seem the type to frequently go out of your way to make friends.

[the larger one looks between Tek and the smaller man before saying something--again, in another language that makes no sense to Tek. the smaller man nods, leaning back in his chair. he talks a lot smarter than he looks, though his voice still sounds like it, too, could hold its own in a fight.]

And you don't seem the kind of guy who'd associate with types like us. Pierce over here-- [he gestures with his whole head at the bigger guy.] --wants to know what you're doing hanging around the guy with the stupid gloves.

[Tek's smile widens a little at the strangers' initial assessment, and then turns into a grin at their question.

elbows on the table, leaning comfortably forward, he hooks his hands together and rests his chin on them. this "game playing" that he's been looking forward to has maybe gotten a bit literal, as he looks as if he's eagerly settling in for a round of gambling. maybe a high-stakes guessing-game.]

It's a very good question. Tell me, does Pierce have any guesses?

Nah.

[the smaller guy's answer comes quick and dismissive. here's another funny thing about the smaller man--not only is he thoroughly unimpressed with Tek's visual status, he also doesn't seem to take the mental bait as easily as one would expect.]

That's why we're asking you, pal.

[he keeps his gaze steady, while "Pierce" tries to settle back in his own chair, flexing his fingers anxiously. as his knuckles crack, they make an awful sound--partly like human joints and partly like arcing electricity.]

Surely there must be something more than simple, idle curiosity.

[Tek pauses to eye the large man's knuckles, but he keeps his thoughts about it to himself.]

...Or, are you interested because you're an admirer of his? So many people around here seem to enjoy his company, I really couldn't blame you if you were feeling a little jealous of him bringing someone new around.

Nah. [similar to last time, except he follows with:] Ain't my type.

[regardless of whether or not the bigger guy has a good grasp of the common language around here, he shakes his head in really rather serious agreement.]

Let me put it to you this way... [the smaller man still refuses to physically engage with Tek, remaining leaned back in his chair.] We've got an interest in keeping this district operating under a certain set of rules, and folks from the Capitol have a tendency to, ah... Force their rules on others.

[the smaller man smiles a crooked smile that absolutely does not reflect any real joy or amusement.]

So it's within our best interests to know what kind of garbage he's dragging in.

[ah! the realization that crosses Tek's face is really quite genuine. it maybe even should have dawned on him sooner, what with him being a fancy boy from the Capitol and all that. he leans back into his own space with a surprised chuckle, and waves his hand.]

Oh, I completely understand. Though, there really is no need to worry in my case. I'm here because rules are one of my very least favorite things in the world.

[he takes a moment to compose himself so that his surprise has less of a chance of completely blowing his cover.]

I assure you, I am only here to make friends, and I have no one's interest in mind but my own.

[they can take heart in the fact that it's definitely one of the most honest things he has said in some time. he is there to get into trouble and answer to no higher power than himeslf.]

[the smaller man looks at Pierce, and Pierce looks at the smaller man, saying something quietly to him while the smaller one appears to be thinking.

eventually, he thinks he has an accurate translation:]

So what you're saying is... you're an equal-opportunity shitbag.

[ah, there we go--his smile finally reaches his eyes.]

Exactly. [and he settles in his chair as if they've all suddenly become friends.]

I hold neither prejudices nor allegiances, and have no intention of sharing whatever happens within this particular cave with a single soul outside of it.

Ah. That's real cute.

[the smaller man nods at this a little--even if he isn't fully buying into it, he seems to have at least reached an understanding about the game Tek thinks he is playing.

Pierce shrugs, and then clearly says the word, 'Leviathan'. the smaller man also shrugs.]

All right, you got a name you go by?

[he can't help but glance in the large man's direction when he hears an interesting word that he recognizes, but he quickly returns.]

Yes, call me Tek. [and even though it has a chance of going ignored, Tek makes the gesture of offering out his hand anyway.] And I don't think I caught your name, friend.

[the smaller man continues to sit back in his chair, arms crossed, but he tilts his head at the sound of Tek's name.]

How's it spelled?

[the big guy, on the other hand, leans over and reaches out to return the handshake--except that he grabs Tek's wrist instead, shaking with a firm grip. there's some metal on his wrist that is weirdly warm, even past the fabric of Tek's sleeves.

the man himself does not seem to be particularly intimidating about it, though. Pierce's face is scarred, but relaxed, and he doesn't hold the handshake for longer than seems appropriate.]

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