Gratia (
skeletoncity) wrote in
psychoshenanigans2017-03-17 10:30 pm
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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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[Tonic agrees about the idea of an emerald, sticking out his tongue a little again. but beyond that playful expression, he has nothing else to say, and so lounges quietly while Tek mulls something over.
the period of thoughtful silence is plenty of warning, so he is well and truly prepared for a personal question as soon as Tek decides to speak again. as such, his answer comes with a raised eyebrow and a quick, twirling gesture of his hands.]
Which part?
[what hasn't happened to his body, man.]
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[without an obvious complaint before him, he forges on. he at least makes sure to remain looking as neutral as possible about it. he's morbidly curious, but he doesn't want to be rude.]
Things seem to be somewhat... unilateral. So, I'd wondered what the story was behind it.
[why is your whole left side fucked up, friend?]
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Acid. [he nods his head.] Believe it or not, someone tried to dunk me into a vat of it. The leg thing came later, ironically.
[the words are delivered rather matter-of-factly, so it is up to Tek to decide whether they are the truth or not.]
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and then, when he tries to actually imagine it, the image becomes even more absurd. before he can really think about it, he incredibly blurts out--]
--Sideways?
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You don't believe me?
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...How does that even happen? Were you attacked by some kind of giant?
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[he laughs again, moving his arms to do his best to illustrate the general motions that led to his unfortunate state.]
Fairly large for a man, yes. And I was a little smaller, at the time. And the vat was probably, oh, half the size of this chamber? And not very tall.
[he should really be holding Tek to admitting whether or not he thinks that he's lying--per the game--but seeing the other man incredulous for once is too good a treat to pass up.]
Picked me up and tried to dunk me in head-first. I tried to twist in the other direction-- [he turns his head, now bad-side out, to illustrate that hitting the surface first.] --Stuck my whole arm in to try and keep the rest of me from going further down.
[he wiggles his bad fingers, too, turning back to face Tek normally.]
Could have been a lot worse.
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Incredible... I do hope something very bad happened to that man.
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[and oh, the look that comes over Tonic's face suggests that it was the kind of face-kicking that people don't get up from, and that he thoroughly enjoys the memory of doing so.]
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he must be able to imagine it well and love what he sees in his mind's eye--vengeance looks good on his fascinating new friend. in his glee, he even extends his fingers and reaches like he wants to touch Tonic's face, but catches the reflex before it can go very far.]
At least there's a happy ending, then.
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go on, touch his weird face. he knows you want to.]
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with nothing but overflowing fondness, he brushes his hand along the marred side of Tonic's face, fingers smoothing over the strange, smooth plane of scars there. he briefly wonders what it would be like to feel the sorts of things that Robin can detect, and then also wonders if that's one of the reasons that Robin seems intent on bothering this man.
it's not just about the scars, though. the original gesture had nothing to do with it. he'd just been caught up in the story, marveling at this half-polished gem he'd found and feeling a little covetous over it, and that's the sentiment that shows on his face more than morbid interest in some damaged skin.]
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he looks up at him the entire time, always a little wary of things happening so close to his face... but the genuine smirk remains, fueled by the dark twist in their conversation and the pleasant feeling of human contact that... well, frankly, isn't based in some weird sex thing the other person has for dramatic scars.]
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so, he doesn't pin him there for long. after some doting, he breathes a pleased sigh and takes his hand back--giving Tonic just enough room to make his next question a little less oppressive. the way his smirk twists to match is another little warning.]
...Would this be a bad time to call that a truth?
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Depends. [he smirks, but tilts his face up a little, perhaps hopeful.] Are you just trying to get my shirt off?
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[something about turnabout being fair play would be appropriate here. and like Tonic had done earlier, when the roles had been reversed, he rests the side of his face in his hand. just charmed and happy to be here.]
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[Tonic picks himself up, rearranging himself a little stiffly so that he can sit up and lean backwards. getting his shirt up over his head is tricky, having to navigate the bits and edges of his mods without having the full, fluid motion of a normal person... but he's done it enough times that he at least doesn't make an idiot of himself.
if Tek can be patient for a few extra seconds, Tonic will have his shirt off and his torso fully exposed. it is marred more in the way that his good arm was, with nicks and scrapes and a couple of deep-looking scars where he's had unfortunate run-ins with sharp objects... the real visual interest comes from where his arm was apparently dunked down into a vat of acid, Tek can actually make out specks and splashed shapes where the splatter must have been, eaten away and causing the skin to have that same sort of uneven, strangely-scarred texture as his face and arm.
no big holes for metal bits, just a couple of flat, metallic brackets punched into parts of his shoulder, maybe for support. they almost look fashionable, polished to a reflective shine.
Tonic drops his shirt near his other clothing, not much caring if this one wrinkles.]
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[around the joke, however, he's gazing at Tonic with patient adoration as he undresses, and he's almost surprised with how much he likes what he sees.
the man has stories written all over his body. how could he not be drawn to that?
so, if Tonic had been hoping for an ego boost based on a look alone, he could easily find one here. Tek doesn't know what to do with him now that he has him like this, but he's very glad he pushed the game this far.]
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[he does like this, being appreciated for the sum of his parts, his story, rather than just his skills or his unusual looks or the surface personality he's put forward. he doesn't dive into this world often, but he thoroughly enjoys it when he does.
he thinks this is one of those times. he leans back on his arms, regarding Tek with an even gaze.]
I just feel like maybe I should get something for winning...
[and if it isn't obvious already, he gestures for Tek to come in closer with a finger.]
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the invitation also means that he is wanted, and that will always be his very favorite thing. he is both grateful and full of pride when the other man beckons him over, and he doesn't waste a moment to go slinking forward to meet him there.
he's excited just to be closer to him. the impending prospect of touch, all that uncovered skin, permission to tilt his face in near his companion's and revel in the tension that exists in the space there--he gets close and breathes it in.]
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it's a little odd, kissing Tonic, because his mouth feels very uneven; what he lacks on one side is made up for by the other, though, still soft and warm and direct, but not demanding. and he is half-smiles, at least, because all he wants in the moment is to get a taste of this strange man and his infuriatingly beautiful face.
it's like kissing art. which he'd be into.]
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Tek is treating himself to this just as much as Tonic is. it's been a long time since he's touched someone new--especially someone who has managed to capture his interest so thoroughly. he immediately rests a light, affectionate hand on Tonic's good wrist, but it soon moves to his shoulder, finally gliding up to his neck as he can't help but smile against the scars of his companion's mouth.
he doesn't mind the strangeness of kissing him, really. when you've spent hundreds of years with creatures who sometimes have fangs or scales to work around, a little unevenness isn't that bad. he meets him with just as much warmth, and makes sure not to seem too greedy about it. the little bits of pointed teeth against the good portion of his lip are just to tease him. it's just a little sharpness for fun.
even when he shifts over enough to begin placing a few experimental kisses along the unscarred skin of Tonic's jaw, he's slow and doting about it. this is one of those instances in which he's actually interested in gauging what his partner likes before he goes for the throat.]
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he's a little hesitant to let Tek leave and trail down his jaw at first, but then something about having a mouth close to his neck changes his mind entirely--and with a grateful sound, he tilts his head away to give the dragon another open invitation. the hand on the back of his neck drags nails over his skin, lightly, as thanks.
he thinks of saying something stupid, like, "maybe next time I will let you get me drunk"... but it's too many words, and might be misconstrued, and really, he doesn't want to risk breaking the spell that they're under. so he keeps quiet, content to bask in a little well-earned affection.]
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so, he spends extra attention on his partner to make up for it. his mouth and teeth and a little bit of that strange tongue that Tonic had gotten a glimpse of pick their way along scarless skin. it's not that he doesn't love the marred half of the man's body just as much, but he wants to make sure that there are as many nerves as possible there for him to play with.
he revels in the fact that he's being trusted enough for the other man to lower his guard and let him get this close. he drags fingertips down his back, feeling along smooth skin and the little interruptions of scars, until he can settle and hold him at the shape of his waist. he breathes him in. he waits for the little hints that tell him what his partner likes, and follows them. he wants to learn more about him.]
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that said, he gets a little tense whenever there are teeth, but seems to ease up and enjoy that strange tongue of Tek's immensely. maybe he could warm up to something sharper, but he certainly isn't Robin--who would practically be begging for a bite by now. Tonic seems content to sigh into Tek's affections, simply thankful for the closeness of another creature that he likes.
Tonic smells strongly of the cigarette he'd been burning. Tonic can't tell what Tek smells like, but it's strangely familiar... and after a while, he indulges with his eyes closed, pressing his face in against his hair and breathing him in just the same.]
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