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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[having a dedicated, if intoxicated, audience does feel like it would really hit the spot right now. he chews little savoring pieces at a time off what's left of the jerky, and indulges in a little nostalgia.]

Yes. And I think I'm always looking for its replacement, but I know I'll never find exactly what I'm looking for.

[it's a good thing that Tonic has moved the knife away from him (and that Tek has always been courteous enough to visit while unarmed) because he would absolutely love a knife to gesture with right now. his eyes even move thoughtfully in that direction while he holds and demonstrates with nothing instead.]

It was unique primarily because it was balanced poorly. It had once been a longer sword, but the blade had been broken and reshaped into a shorter weapon, leaving it hilt-heavy. It was useless to most people.

[but, by his wistful expression, it was perfect for him alone.]

[he does watch with rapt attention... part of it may be because he is still fascinated with the velvety quality of Tek's voice, and is getting a little caught up in the way that the candle flames reflect in his beautiful eyes, but he at least nods appropriately and manages to retain all of the words that come his way.]

Interesting...

[hopefully, Tek doesn't need any more to go off of than that... Tonic's attention does drift away as he thinks about the logistics of a sword weighted incorrectly, imagining that one could potentially wield it with deadly speed, but he does not say any of this out loud.]

[Tonic's guess is precisely correct. Tek's appearance doesn't exactly portray him as likely being formidable in a fight, but being underestimated has its advantages, especially when he's much stronger than he seems and is wielding a blade that is suddenly moving much faster than expected...]

They were always so surprised. A blade like that didn't have much natural heft to it, but when you were quick enough and knew exactly what to do with it, you didn't need much force behind it.

[and while he's reconstructing the image in his own head, his gaze finally focuses again and settles on his companion with a knowing little smile.]

A necessity, however... was a well-tailored coat, fitted and clean, allowing you to move without it getting in the way when it counts.

[see, this is where most people would either show a passive interest, or keep their thoughts to themselves. Tonic, however, glances back over at Tek as the subject moves onto the benefits of a perfect coat... because he had already been thinking it, already connecting Tek's earlier specific instructions with what he is saying now about his favorite sword.

he shouldn't say it, and he knows he shouldn't, but that makes him smirk all the more as he leans even further forward--voice dropping to an almost conspiratorial tone.]

I would love to watch you stab someone while wearing that coat.

[and most normal, balanced people (and even some unbalanced ones) would have taken that comment as anything other than utterly charming. Tek is not one of those people, if the wicked grin and the way he also begins to gravitate toward his awful friend are any indication.]

--While wearing a memento of a dead man on my sleeve?

[after the briefest surprise--he responds with a deep chuckle. it's almost disgusting, the way he seems incredibly satisfied with the answer.]

Honestly, darling, the dead man hadn't even crossed my mind.

[it was all the thought of his new favorite person in his new favorite coat. he laughs again, a little lighter this time, as he looks playfully away as if he'd been caught at something.]

Though, now that you mention it...

[the memento would kind of make it sexier.]

[yeah, that's what he'd thought. he chuckles too, as if he had caught Tonic at something.]

What about whoever it is that I'm stabbing? Would that complete the picture as well?

[again, he's riding on a hunch. and he reaches over to steal one of the wedges of cheese in the meantime because all this talk of murder makes him hungry.]

[he makes a curious sound, like the thought had not quite occurred to him...]

That would, wouldn't it? Hm...

[he definitely likes the thought, and spends the next several moments drifting through his memories of various people, no doubt imagining what it would be like to watch each of them get stabbed. he starts fidgeting at his mouth, a small, tingling sensation while he thinks.]

Oh, but there are so many to choose from...

[again, he is overly pleased with himself for having guessed that Tonic would have a whole list of people that he would love to watch be stabbed, and it turns into him gazing fondly while the other thinks it over. he's just so charmed, watching his murderous friend's face, imagining the thoughts going through his head.]

Decisions, decisions...

[however, the fawning is interrupted when he absently takes a bite of cheese... and is completely thrown by the results. with a sound of surprise, he sits up straighter, and stares at the innocent piece of food in his hand. so much is happening in his mouth right then that he was not expecting.]

--Gods. Since when has cheese become so interesting?

[while Tonic stares off into the distance, something almost happens. it is a tiny shift, nearly imperceptible and incredibly easy to miss when there are very tangible things to be tasted and felt so much closer, but that tiny ember of magic that lives in Tonic momentarily shifts, wavering gently like one of the candle flames he's surrounded with.

but it's gone as he turns his head in surprise, and he appears not to have noticed anything himself, laughing again at Tek's incredible disbelief.]

That's interesting, huh? [he reaches over for another piece himself, ready to bite in and see if he can taste whatever Tek is experiencing.] Is it flavor, or texture?

[he notices the glimmer, just as he's noticing all of the other more visual glimmers around him. it filters in like one star in a constellation, and hangs there in the periphery of his thoughts while he focuses on the louder sensations.]

Yes. And it changes.

[both the flavor and texture, melting in his mouth. bear with him while he savors this for the few more bites he has left of it, and then he can move on with his life.]

[Tonic joins along in the exercise, giggling to himself and chewing away at his piece of cheese.]

I don't know... Texture, yes, but not the taste. That never really changes for me much... [he laughs, suddenly, quickly bringing his hand up to wipe at the corner of his mouth.] But then again, half my tongue is a little fucked up.

[which, once he safely swallows his food, he is happy to stick out of his mouth in a playful expression again. his tongue is a little asymmetrical, after all.]

[has he never noticed that before, with how often Tonic goes sticking his tongue out of his mouth? he frowns in a way that almost makes him seem skeptical. and he doesn't think to ask his next question with any tact.]

...Don't tell me you'd opened your mouth when you'd taken your little acid bath.

[and because it's Tonic, he cackles. when it comes to his appearance, he loves a blunt question. even if the real answer has him settling back down into something between a grin and a grimace.]

No, actually... This one was all me.

[he hunches down into his shoulders a little--not embarrassed, exactly, Tonic may not be capable of feeling such an emotion--but he knows it wasn't the finest moment of his career, all the same.]

[and with him finishing up the last of his snack, he's free to get caught up in the sheepish expression spreading across his friend's face. he'd love the look on any day, but there's just something about the way that everything looks right now that makes it absolutely adorable.

with a conspiratorial hum, he props his chin on his hand and settles in. he's ready to hear the confession.]

Well...

[and on any other day, he might have simply left it short and boring, or not even mentioned it at all... but with eyes on him, and with the room still feeling warm and soft, he feels the urge to play into the scene and finds the idea too funny to resist.]

Sometimes... You have a new chemical compound that you need to test... And you're maybe running against a deadline...

[he shrugs harder, raising his mismatched hands up in a "what can you do?" motion.]

And you're... Maybe are a little too confident in your understanding of its corrosive properties...?

[Tek just... covers his mouth with one hand. it's impossible to tell whether it's out of shock and disbelief, or to cover a horrible grin. either way, he needs a moment before he says anything.]

...How are you still alive.

[it's a statement of incredulity, not a question.]

I know!

[the answer is delivered with such enthusiasm that he nearly jostles one of those candles as he gestures--but reaches out very quickly to steady it, shoving it slightly further away and out of harm's reach.

and then he gestures at Tek, 'pointing' at him with a flat, vertical hand. he looks like he's close to laughing again.]

The fact has not escaped me.

[half of his face still resting in his hand, he slowly shakes his head.]

...Should I asked if you learned your lesson after that?

Um... [that pause is telling. he narrows his eyes, as if Tek were somehow the one trying to trick him, and not the other way around.] ...Yes.

[he has mostly learned his lesson. he snickers a little, at his own expense.]

[he finally lets go of his own face and leans back from the table, taking a slow, judgmental breath. as if he has any room to speak himself.]

Well... [fighting a preemptive smirk at his own comment, now.] ...at least you're pretty.

Ugh...!

[it's like he's been shot--he tips backwards from the sheer force of the comment, clutching at the metaphorical wound in his chest. such biting words. he cackles, unable to help himself, nearly slumping over onto the floor as the laughing overtakes him.]

You bitch! [shouted proudly from somewhere below the table.]

[snickering, quite proud of himself, he follows Tonic's wilting direction a little ways. enough to prop himself lazily on the edge and lord over him just a bit.]

Oh, that was it. Looks like someone finally got him. So sad...

[if he'd had any hope of recovering from his helpless laughter, it's dashed the moment another joke is lobbed straight for his morbid sense of humor. he clutches onto the edge of the table until his giggling is finally too much, and he collapses onto the floor much like Tek had done before.

but he can't just let it stay there, no. he almost sounds convincingly desperate, as he struggles for air between his fits of laughter, as his beautiful arm shoots up in the air.]

Tell them... I want the most expensive funeral... And everyone must wear extravagant hats.

[the arm flops down again, dramatically, as he giggles into the carpet.]

[of all the effects of this drug, he has quietly decided that the laughing is his favorite one. whatever it's doing for them, or whatever psychological excuse it's offering, he greatly enjoying it... even though he's quickly finding himself descending into helplessness again, falling into a loose fit of giggles while he watches the dramatics play out on the floor.]

Hats? Oh, sorry, then I won't be attending. You'll have to find someone else to write you a beautiful eulogy.

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