psychoshenanigans | 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?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[in lacking most of the traditional ways to make facial expressions, the dragon relies on other body language to fill in the gaps. the spines on his neck bristle with interest when the leader first lowers their bow, and this gesture highlights the easy way that they fall back again when the hunter then buries their spear and approaches.

this is good. he is curious and means no harm. he straightens up as the hunter crosses the sand toward him, but it's only to not look quite as lazy as he had a moment before. it's a sign of respect, and his tongue flicks to eagerly taste the air as they get close.

'name,' Tek asks, hoping Robin will continue to be so polite as to translate.]

[it turns out that there's a lot to look at, underneath the cloak and camouflage. standing revealed a full tunic, well-fitted and embroidered with a complicated mural of human figures, flora, and several mysterious creatures. a dark jaguar seems to be at the center of it, creating a circle from head to tail over their sternum.

their clothing does not leave much to the imagination. their chest is bound with linens and what little skin isn't covered in paint seems to be marked with lines of tattooed runes that look very similar to the ones Robin draws around those magical circles of his. they look strong and healthy for a human--especially compared to the pale, withering humans living in the caves below them.

this person stops about halfway between the trees and the dragon, lifting their mask up to reveal a confident, smiling face. strong-jawed, dark skin, bright blue eyes. there's a clay-red patch of paint across their face that looks like it was applied some time ago; it has mostly worn away now. they can't be much older than their early twenties.

Robin is very hesitant to continue with introductions, because he doesn't really want Tek introducing the idea of a death dragon to an entire culture of people quite like this... but he doesn't really get a chance, because their leader speaks first, directly addressing Tek.]

Bч z'чσ fmч's n'z c'pααsh? Sєch lч єmlrч'вσsα.

[i's not only a desire to spite Robin that drives Tek to be so social with these humans--it's also a deep, fond sense of nostalgia. it reminds him of his very young years, interacting with tribes and communities nestled out in the wild, far from the prying eyes and influence of other more powerful beings, human and dragon alike.

forgetting his companion entirely, he addresses the human directly with a pleasant rumble and distinct bob of his head. yeah, he understands. guess they practically don't need their translator at all...]

[Robin watches their leader carefully, saying nothing... something about their face reminds him of something. though he does take a quiet step closer to Tek in his silence, as if to hiding in the dragon's shadow could perhaps remove him from the scene entirely.

the human before them nods, pleased that they can speak to this strange creature directly; their next move is to bow deeply, crossing one arm to their opposing hip in a closed-fist salute of some kind.]

I am Kaanan, of the Silent Fangs. My life is nothing to you, so I am humbled to stand before you and still live.

[the dragon lifts his chin in acknowledgement, clearly pleased with the introduction. and with the way that he then replies, it's easy to imagine that he is replying to the human with something that would make sense in response.

however, his words are entirely for Robin, asking him whether or not his lovely mortal friends here are always so flattering.]

Yes. [says Robin, flatly, in common. the speaker continues, continuing to bow graciously even as their attention turns toward Robin.]

And to you, Dєrshαk, I cannot imagine that you remember me, but--

[Robin interrupts them.] One of Kalaket's children. You're the only one who didn't try to speak to me. I remember.

[surprise crosses their face as they're acknowledged, but they remain as they are, even as their smile turns a little bashful.] You gave me a flower.

Sounds like me. [the demigod hooks a hand around some part of Tek's neck, probably a spine, just to keep himself grounded as he speaks.] You've grown since then.

But not forgotten, [the speaker finally straightens again, putting a hand on their mask as if they intend to lower it again.] Nor has Kalak. You've come at a fortuitous time, Dєrshαk, and I seem to recall that you promised her a favor.

...Oh. [says Robin, finally realizing that what was nearly a decade ago for him was only three years ago for these people.] That also sounds like me.

[the whole exchange between them is immensely entertaining, but it's the last little revelation that really tickles Tek. he doesn't say anything right away, but his tail does swish audibly over the sand and scrubby plants behind him and he cants his head enough that Robin can get the clear feeling that he's being glanced at.

a favor, huh? he can't wait to hear the story behind this one.]

[Kaanan, as they called themselves, seems to read Tek's posture very well, and they turn to regard the dragon again with just the hint of a smirk in their otherwise very polite smile.]

Can you wear the skin of a man, as he does?

[they gesture towards Robin, who in turn, tilts his head and looks up at Tek. whatever he thinks about it being a good idea or not, he doesn't have a clue how Tek feels about the topic, especially in front of a group of humans.]

[the dragon's eyes narrow--partially in amusement and partially in thoughtful calculation. he has a few things to mull over before responding, but he ultimately lifts his head in acknowledgement as he'd done before, and has a side comment that he hopes Robin will translate for him.

the first part is a warning about the fact that he won't be nearly as impressive as he is now... though, the specific word he uses can be equally translated as 'beautiful.' and the second part is a question, asking if they would be more comfortable with him wearing his 'false face']

GRATIA // PSL

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject