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, it's entirely the wrong reaction, but his eyes light up. he seems absolutely delighted by the idea that someone might have caught him.]

You think so?

I know so.

[he doesn't seem... accusatory, at least not of the fact that Tek essentially tried to poison him. he's eyeing Tek more like he wants to figure him out than anything.]

Do you want to know why they call me Tonic?

[Tek is devouring that look, seeming eager and thrilled and just barely holding back information that he would love to share. or would love to be caught at. like a criminal excited at the idea of being discovered for their crimes.]

Of course. It was the very first thing I'd wondered about you.

[one crooked half-smile later, Tonic is reaching forward into his coat again, digging in that same pocket that held his cigarettes and pulling out a small, flat leather pouch, smaller than the palm of his hand.]

You asked potion or poison... But at the end of the day, those are essentially the same things. Just mixed differently, or in different amounts, or treated with heat rather than being left to fuse at a mild temperature...

[he says this while lifting the cover to reveal a line of small, delicate-looking corked vials. he pulls one out, holds it out for Tek to inspect. inside is a thick, pearlescent, whitish liquid.]

This one's popular. It sits in the blood, counteracts most alcohols and some lighter irritants before they have a chance to cause impairment.

[so not a hangover cure... so much as a buffered tolerance for alcohol. it is essentially an anti-poison, waiting to eat a very specific kind of chemical once it enters the body. this is mind-blowingly advanced stuff, from what Robin has told Tek of the Underground.]

They call me Tonic because I'm the best at what I do. So it's been frustrating me... [he narrows his eyes at Tek, again trying to puzzle out this mystery he has yet to crack.] ...That I still don't know how you were able to do it.

[he actually doesn't like the feel of the liquid in the vial, which absolutely fascinates him. he rolls it in between two fingertips, feeling the greedy stuff even through the glass, and he can't help but masochistically wonder if it would make him sick to try some.

eyes still on the vial, his smile creeps wider as Tonic shares his frustration.]

And I could have done much worse. Isn't that wonderful?

[he wants to play so badly. it's all over his face when he finally meets Tonic's eyes again.]

If you want to keep playing, you should ask me if you are the best at what you do.

[and Tonic's smile creeps wider in response, partly sickened by the idea that Tek absolutely could have tried worse, but partly secure in what Tek still doesn't know about him. he's shared a lot, but not all of it.]

Okay. [he does not sound convinced.] Am I the best at what I do?

[eyes bright and looking as though he's fighting back another horrible, teasing giggle, he shakes his head.]

Not while I'm visiting.

[Tonic scoffs. he doesn't care what strange traits this man possesses, magic or not, he refuses to believe that he could be better at this than he himself is.]

You're telling the truth-- [with a deft motion, he flicks the last of his cigarette out the opening of their little nest.] --but only because you don't know any better, sweetheart.

[the point was to ruffle Tonic's proverbial feathers and not actually to win the argument, so he seems satisfied. he moves to remove his final stocking, bringing each player down to only tops, bottoms, and whatever they might be wearing underneath.]

How would you judge it? I'm honestly curious. [because he is absolutely intending on returning to this topic later on.] And what would you do if it turned out that you were wrong?

Hm. [the sound is a little huffy, but he sits back again, glancing at Tek's sockless feet while he thinks of a good way to answer.]

There's nothing I can't figure out how to make. If you can somehow do better, I guess I'd have to kill you.

[he frowns a little, but just on the one side.]

No, that's a distasteful joke. I'd be very angry, though. I don't appreciate people trying to undermine my life's work; I hope you understand.

[he does regret not having painted his toes to match his fingers, and even such a tiny thing causes a pang of discomfort in him. he moves to get comfortable while he thinks, and just happens to angle his feet away from Tonic as he settles to more conversationally face him again.]

I do understand. And, I will have to admit than mine is much more of a very extensive hobby, using resources that not many other people are privileged enough to have--whereas I can tell that yours is an actual passion.

[no harm meant. he would much rather them be colleagues than competitors. he does motion at him a little, though.]

And I think I'll call that one a truth.

[Tonic may have had some opinion on the topic of resources that only "privileged" people have access to, some small shift in his expression marking the beginning of a new train of thought, but...

he stops... because Tek has dared to make another jab.]

Nope. [he says this with a dead expression and just a hint of sarcasm.] Wrong. Definitely a lie, joke's on you.

[his eyebrows raise, though he can't honestly say that he didn't deserve it.]

Oh, is that so? I never would have guessed.

[if it will make his charming companion feel better, he will take the fall for his sins. shaking his head as if he doesn't understand how he could have lost, he begins unfastening the buttons that trail halfway down his shirt, and the ones on the cuff of each sleeve. see, he's still being a good sport about things.

like he'd said--if Tonic is so eager to see him without his shirt on, he'll go ahead and lose quicker.]

[at the very least, the thoughtfulness of this gesture is not lost on him. but like Tek taking penance for that comment about being boring... Tonic isn't exactly about to tell him to not take his shirt off.

he watches expectantly, smiling again, even bringing his good hand to rest against the side of his face like he is just tickled to be here.]

[the fact that he looks like he's enjoying himself is reassuring. he could have seemed vindictive about it, but they're all still having fun--somehow.

so, Tek is quite at ease undoing the remainder of his shirt and sitting up straight so he can pull the thing over his head without too much struggle.

and if Tonic has any interest in pale, absurdly-flawless skin, then he has plenty to look at as Tek strips down to his last few articles of clothing. his lodasphere and another fancy pendant jingle together onto his chest, and he takes a moment to fold up his shirt so that it can neatly be set aside with the rest.]

[well, Tonic seems to be enjoying the view, openly admiring the statuesque form of the person in front of him, eyes now looking for scars or track marks or basically any sign that this person has ever been in danger their entire lives.

it's strange to find nothing. very pretty, but strange. he sighs, still perched on his own hand, wistful and appreciative.]

And you have a perfect complexion, too. It's just not fair.

[hopefully Tonic won't mind watching Tek lounge and get comfortable like this. especially now that he's less clothed, the call of soft pillows are much harder to resist.

he hardly pauses to answer, though.]

Oh, don't put too much stock into it--it's just more lies.

[he folds his arms behind his head once he's found the perfect spot, much like he'd started at the beginning of this questionable game.]

You could say that keeping up appearances is one of my passions.

[Tonic likes this answer a lot. he seems wholly satisfied again, watching Tek settling down while his smile spreads from one side of his face to the other.]

That does make me feel a little better. Still, you do good work.

[and after a moment, he tilts his head thoughtfully, presenting his next question curiously:]

What do you want?

[perfectly comfortable there, as if he'd been in his own home and not half-dressed at some crazy party in a city that isn't his, he lets his eyes close for a few moments.]

Do you mean here, or in the world at large?

[it takes Tonic a moment to decide which he would rather hear about. at first he thinks he only wants to know about the here and now... but then he thinks about hearing of, perhaps, Tek's deeper motivations for everything.

...ultimately, though, he decides it isn't worth it. they can play this game another time, perhaps, but for now, he's enjoying that they've both gone back to being content again.]

Here, for now.

[Tek also takes a moment to think, considering his answer here and idly wondering if he'll have a chance later on to share the other part of it. he's not in a hurry to finish the round. he's sure their game will end soon, one way or another, and he's not in a particular rush to end the better part of his night.

eventually, he opens his eyes again to fix an easy stare on his companion.]

I wanted someone who would play with me.

[he shrugs one shoulder and folded elbow.]

I'd been so bored, cooped up with him all the time. I don't exactly have any other contacts in the city or places to go; I was going crazy. Robin decided to bring me to this place so I could get out, make a mess.

[then he unfolds one of his arms from behind his head so he can gesture to Tonic and the nest that they've been spilling secrets in, filling in the rest of the story.]

I just wanted to blow off steam and get into a little bit of trouble while I could. Before I have to go back to polite society in a city [--and whole world--] that I don't know.

[he stops himself there, before he rambles down any of the other restless side-roads in his head, and laughs a little bit.]

...I hope you weren't expecting something more exciting than that.

[Tonic takes all of these words in, measuring them against what he knows and deciding that it is very, very unlikely to be some kind of elaborate lie, especially this late in their game.]

The truth is good enough for me, babe.

[and after a moment or two, he uncurls from where he has been sitting, slithering forward so that he can rest on his stomach, propped up on his elbows, resting his face in his hands. he even kicks his feet up, a wooden one and a real one, like a teenage girl at a sleepover.]

So what's your necklace made of? [a sly smile.] This one's not for the game.

[Tek likes this shift a lot. after all of the convoluted turns in their strange little game, the fact that his new friend is settling down like this, instead of looking for the nearest polite exit, is a wonderful sign. he can't help but gravitate toward it. it shows in subtle ways--moving his shoulders so he can slink an inch or two lower on the pillows, turning just a little closer toward Tonic.

the question isn't one he expects, though. he picks up the much more valuable of his two necklaces, to look at it himself.]

This one? I assume you mean the pendant, as there's nothing special about the metal. It's just gold.

It's just gold...

[Tonic rolls his eyes at that profoundly priviledged statement, but he doesn't let it sit for long. he really is more interested in the pendant, eyeing it as well.]

Yes, I mean the pendant. I'm not a gem expert, but it's very pretty.

[Tek chuckles a little bit; he had tried to warn him about the whole being-enormously-privileged thing. and he gazes at the stone, rubbing a thumb over the surface to clear any smudges. it has been a very long time since he's bothered even looking at the thing.]

You won't find anything like it around here, I can tell you that much.

[for as beautiful as the gem is, and it being the only piece of jewelry he's wearing tonight, he doesn't seem to be looking a it with a whole lot of fondness. it's a mixed expression; if anything, it's somewhat similar to how Tonic had been looking at the false leg strapped to his own body.]

It's sort of a family symbol. The type of stone doesn't have a name, but there's a local legend about them being the petrified, fallen tears of some ancient creature. The stone has many colloquial names, and they all have to do with that.

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