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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[as he has in this past--how many hops has it been now?--he reacts before he remembers himself. first is the creature, slinking back into whatever is the darkest, the wettest, the quietest. poised and feral. then, only once instinct and adrenaline has ebbed enough for him to realize that he's safe (more or less), is the man. and even then, his human shape straightens up but keeps everything else close to his chest. as long as there aren't any eyes on him, he doesn't need to put on much of a show.

he tries to hoard what information he can gather as he takes in his new world, but like any good shapeshifter, his immediate priority is to hide.

so, wonder and critical thought will come later. for now, he needs to blend himself as seamlessly as possible into the crowd. sticking to the alleys and trying to ignore the sensation that he basically glows compared to these peasants, he hunts for the easiest opportunity he can find to update his disguise.]

[lucky for him, there isn't a lot of information to gather. this is a rather one-note place with a lot of similar pale, grungy people. everyone is human, at least upon first look.

he has a few options for a disguise. one man, about his height and shape, walks obliviously down a side-path and into an isolated tunnel. it might be easy to sneak up and take his things. on the other hand, nearby, there is door standing open to what could only abstractly be called a house; the shack is falling apart, but there are some clothes in various states of disrepair piled on the floor. no one seems to be home.

no one has quite noticed him yet, but his luck can't last forever.]

[the hovel is tempting. maybe it's his dragon nature, but the thought of a small, dark den to retreat to is nearly too appealing to resist. he would be out of sight, and anything that comes to bother him could be quickly dispatched.

but people make noise, especially when their families are threatened, and there is no guarantee that the clothing he'd kill for would be worth the blood. at least with the man, he knows that the reward would at least suit his basic needs. and, somewhere in the back of his head, he likes the idea that he could probably avoid killing him.

so, he follows behind, just enough to watch. he needs to make a few judgments--is the man healthy or ill, sober or dazed, young or old--but he's fairly sure that he's found his target.]

[even from behind and with a hood pulled up, the man doesn't seem particularly intimidating. his frame is thin and he doesn't walk with any particular gravitas. at one point, well into this tunnel, he covers his face with a scarred-up hand to battle a wet and unappealing cough.

Tek's target may be in his thirties, but he only has a handful of years left to live.

the tunnel itself is not very wide, enough for maybe three people to stand shoulder-to-shoulder. sound echoes strangely off the walls, but it'll make it easy to tell when or if someone else is coming. it branches off into other tunnels at several points, at least one of which is boarded up and plastered with peeling paper warnings.

the man walks absently around a stalagmite, and he doesn't notice Tek even when he is partly turned towards him. his face is grizzled and scarred up, and his mind is elsewhere.]

[this is the first moment in which Tek consciously realizes that he can't feel the strings of Fate. he isn't particularly surprised by this fact--it has been several worlds since he has felt that particular itch--but he still notes the fact with an odd little pang. some part of him is still used to sensing when he is about to cross one of those invisible lines drawn in the sand, usually while narrowing in on his prey.

there is no such compunction here, however. who knows if there is a god out there who notices this particular soul, or the predator prowling behind it.

he decides that he still doesn't want to kill him, however. he'll say that it's out of caution, or the whimsical thought that an attack might just scare this man into enjoying his last few years on this plane. so, when he finally sweeps up to pounce on him, he tries to do so carefully.

he'll slam the man's head into a nearby stony surface and hope that nothing gets broken in the process. and when he loots his victim of his cloak and whatever meager belongings he might be carrying, he'll leave him with enough clothing not to die from a chill.]

[thankfully, the man's overall structural integrity is good enough to survive getting his head smashed into a wall. judging from the criss-crossing of scars on his face and the generally mangled state of his hands, this is maybe not the first time something like this has happened to this guy. he might have even been a regular scrapper, back in his day--but Tek managed to sneak up on him far past his prime.

the cloak is actually a little too large for this man, but it does a good job of concealing most of Tek's pristine-looking clothes and his otherworldly features. the man was also carrying a simple cross-shoulder bag with him, containing a simple knife, a pair of worn gloves, and some kind of tube strung on a piece of string (likely to be worn around the neck). the tube is made of thick glass, and something on the inside of it is glowing a faint, dirty yellow. it looks similar to the light coming out of the wall-mounted lanterns in this tunnel, and does not seem even the least bit magical.

no one is headed his way, yet. where to next?]

[he's quick about his work, just in case someone else decides to sneak down this particular tunnel. slinging the bag onto his shoulder, he leaves most of the contents inside of it, but tugs on the gloves. his hands are unmarred and graceful, with lovely lacquered nails, and they would speak unintentional volumes when his face is hidden by a hood.

and it's that hood that had really sealed the deal when deciding whether to pounce on this opportunity or look for another one. Tek covers as much of his identity with it as he can, hoping that no one important will notice the glassy black glint of his boots whenever the cloak fails to shadow them. he'll walk slowly and carefully, just in case. shuffling seems to be more these people's style anyways.

the final touch is to get rid of his pretty face. it has been quite a while since he has let it go (he's mostly sure) and it's always startlingly uncomfortable when he does. shrugging out of his favorite form, he settles somewhere in the middle, where he is neither of his usual personas. for now, until he understands at least a few of the rules in this new game, he'll leave Tek and Kett on a shelf, and slink along as Tekhet. he's disarmed like this, already feeling exposed and oversensitive, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

it's with that sick-looking, creased face and slighter build that he finally leaves the alleyways to look for a sleepy crowd to creep along with. he'll follow the roads and gather information along the way.]

[excellent choices all around. as long as Tek doesn't go down any of the obviously closed-off branches of tunnel, he should be able to find his way back to one of the main chambers that house the majority of the population down here.

joining a crowd is as easy as leaving the alley and stepping in line with the flow of traffic. there seems to be a trickling influx of people settling in after a day of work, some of them carrying mining tools or bags filled with supplies. some of them chat with one another, a few people stop here and there to check with someone that they know, but the majority are just trying to get back to whatever qualifies as a "home" down here.

Tek gets a glance or two as he moves through the space, but his face quickly dissuades anyone from looking much further. they don't get new people around here very often, but when they do, it's usually because that person is sick--or unbelievably down on their luck. no one wants anything to do with a newcomer or the trouble they might bring.

with this many people moving together, Tek will notice that a lot of them are wearing a tube-shaped necklace similar to the one he took off the man in the tunnel. many people are keeping them concealed under their clothes, but the cord is visible around their necks. those that are visible show different shades of dirty colors, mostly yellows and pale greens--but on the whole, they shine a little brighter than the one in Tek's possession.]

[given that he has next to nothing at the moment, the dragon can't help but covetously eye the meager valuables that the people around him do have. supplies might come in handy, and those lights... why are they brighter than the one that he has? they might mean higher status, better resources. maybe he should take one of those prettier ones just to be sure.

surrounded by this many human presences, it's easy to want to soak in and be just like them. or better than them. it's mostly a survival sort of instinct, but it has always been one of his personal flaws. it takes some reminding to himself that becoming part of his grungy little settlement is not his goal. from what his gut is telling him, he should go up.

so, he continues following along, but without a home to head to, he naturally begins to drift toward whatever might pass for an upward climb here--either literally or socially.]

[it's hard to tell if the brighter necklaces denote a higher status, with everyone down here looking scummy, at best. a few people are wearing very simple, woven bracelets, some people have sturdier-looking shoes, some people are bundled in a more elaborate collection of rags than others--but the poverty is distributed pretty evenly across the board. Tek could pick and scavenge, but it is unlikely that it'd get him very far down here.

"up" is a good direction. the people coming home from work are coming from somewhere, and if Tek traces the trail back, he can eventually spot a staircase cut into one of the far walls of this cavern. most of it is exposed to open air on one side. it's probably very dangerous, but people are using it anyway.

however, something catches his eye--or his mind, rather, as a magical energy suddenly hits his sphere of awareness. with how dull and human this place is, the source is startlingly easy to pinpoint. down the street, huddled up against some residential building, is a person.

it would be so easy to mistake them for just another homeless vagrant, their form bundled in rags that nearly blend them into the background. they're sitting still, hood pulled over their face, completely inconspicuous aside from the fact that they are staring intently at Tek.

something is wrong with their eyes. whatever they are, they are not human. their aura is sluggish and dripping with decay. familiar, maybe--if not like Tek's own aura, it seems like a more pinpointed version of the energy stirring deep below their feet.]

[Tek stops, but not abruptly. he's still keenly aware of the dozens of eyes that drift around him, so he wanders slowly to a halt, as if it's only happenstance that he's pausing here and glancing in the direction of the other monster. the ploy is purely for the benefit of the normal civilians surrounding them. the hooded creature can go ahead and know that Tek is definitely aware of its presence.

something is wrong with his eyes too, and he lets the other monster see--lifting his chin just enough to let a little light onto his face.

and he watches, neutral and easy, to gauge the reaction and demeanor of the other creature. are they curious, defensive, predatory? he lets them make the next move here.]

[the creature does not blink, nor does it glance away from Tek for even a second. it seems to mirror the movement more than answer it, but some of their face is revealed when they do.

they appear (questionably) male, with a thin, gaunt face and skin just as pale as everyone else's. their brow bones jut out from their face almost enough to make up for the fact that they have no eyebrows--or any other hair--to speak of. their eyes are a normal, human color, but they do not reflect light from the lanterns or the milling crowd. their irises are just barely the wrong shape, a little too ovoid to be passable for human.

the creature's face remains expressionless, making it appear almost comically surprised--but it's excited. Tek can tell. there's a tenseness hidden under those robes and in the corners of its eyes. after a few seconds of more staring, it slowly reaches out towards Tek with an inviting, normal-looking hand.]

[that's more than enough welcome for Tek. where he'd had all the caution in the world for harmless mortals, this inhuman beast instills nothing but curiosity and relief in him. perhaps hilariously, the humans represent some huge, unseen threat, but he has absolutely no fear that he will have trouble dealing with this creature--even if it decides to turn on him. it might be backward logic, but he ascribes to it every time.

so, after a lazy delay to avoid seeming overeager to anyone who may be watching, he wanders right over. and when he's close enough, he'll even give the creature a thin smile.]

[the creature does not smile back, though its eyes finally begin picking over other details, such as Tek's expression and the way that he is standing.

it gestures quickly now, urging Tek to come closer. it starts moving his mouth minutely as if trying to say something, but not being sure if it should start. for a second it holds its jaw very tensely, revealing a row of sharp little teeth.

come closer, come closer.]

[maybe it's the desperateness of this whole situation, but Tek manages to find some small amount of amusement here. everything around him is so strange and senseless, maybe he's starving for a little bit of levity. and the fact that this is a monumentally bad idea has not escaped him.

but, he has already invested himself in this interaction. he's not about to back away (or exercise some amount of caution) now.

having settled comfortably beside the monster, he slowly leans his head closer... really hoping that he's ducking in to hear a whisper, and not have his throat chewed open.]

[it does not lunge for his throat, thankfully. rather, it finally retracts its hand back into the pile of rags and begins to make sounds.

"make sounds" is about all the credit that can be given to it. it is clearly trying, straining to make sounds come out of its mouth correctly--but it either doesn't have a tongue, or hasn't figured out how to use it, so the words come out as strained hisses and echoes of words.]

Ffrrrehhh... brrhhhhher...

[this poor fellow. Tek can't help it--he grimaces a little.

it's a sympathetic expression, but still an obviously pitying one. and Tek's voice is an unfortunately smooth and lovely androgynous tone when he answers.]

Oh... well. I don't suppose you know how to write, do you?

[when Tek speaks, the creature looks very intently at his mouth. it gives no sign that it understands (or is otherwise offended by) the statement, and eventually strains its neck to try and give it another try.]

Hhheeerrre... Ssssss... Ssstaaay hheeerrre....

[and then it juts a finger out to point at the ground where Tek is already sitting. having seemingly delivered its message, it sinks back down into its pile, tipping its head down and returning to its original, easily-ignored form.

its eyes are now out on the crowd. and below the earth, very far away, something rumbles like distant thunder.]

Edited 2017-03-18 21:48 (UTC)

[Tek's eyebrows raise in questioning surprise, but his new friend is already retreating into its own space again.

and now, finally, he can't help but acknowledge the itches of doubt that pick at the back of his mind. it wouldn't be so bad if the ominous sound in the distance didn't resemble thunder--that fact alone is enough to make him think twice about sitting complacently beside this creature instead of seeking higher ground.

but, as he almost always does, he ultimately opts to remain with the monster. something very bad could be coming his way, but... he has a long history of benefiting from very bad things. so, whether or not curiosity ends up killing the oversized cat, he stays put and waits to see what happens next.]

[barely anyone else lifts their head at the noise. earthquakes happen down here all the time; if the cave isn't falling in around them, there's no point in paying it any mind. the crowd continues walking, and as one minute stretches into two, it seems as though the sound really may have been nothing at all.

but then the barking starts. at first it sounds like someone's dog got loose in a tunnel somewhere, echoing faintly into the main chamber with obnoxious persistence. just as people start looking up, looking for the sound, it starts to sound like two dogs, and then four, and they're all getting closer.

panic bursts through the crowd like a flame in dry kindling. they scatter like prey animals, running left and right and bumping into each other to try and squeeze into open doors, under shelters, up to second-floor landings. confused shouting and a few loud orders are quickly garbled up by screams as something barrels into the back of the herd.

a giant dog tears someone in half between its teeth and its massive paw. it doesn't stop to eat, standing on its hind legs to leap up onto a ledge and pounce back down into a group of bystanders. five more follow behind it, rushing in, biting and snapping at any human it can catch. they are very strong, very fast, and possess twice the number of eyes that they probably should.

Tek's new "friend" does not move. if anything, it seems as though it has finally relaxed.]

[the waves of fresh death lap at Tek's skin as he turns to stare at the monster beside him, and only the easy expression on the other creature's face encourages him to stay right where he's at. it's not that he necessarily trusts this wretch or its ability to protect either of them; it's only the best option out of the ones he has available to him right now.

if he runs, he becomes part of this flock of prey. if he fights, this situation promises to turn into a bigger mess than it's already turning out to be--though he does get ready to lethally defend himself if necessary. and doing something to protect the humans isn't even a consideration. this isn't his world. these people aren't his responsibility.

so, with wide, fascinated eyes, he just... watches. and waits to see if he is going to be swept up into the violence or not.]

[even in all of the chaos, it's easy to tell that these new things are not particularly smart. they seem intent on making a huge, barking racket and killing as many people as they can... but they are easily distracted, sometimes abandoning an easy victim just because someone else darted too close or made a large noise. at least one of them becomes preoccupied with digging through a boarded-up window instead of going for stragglers in the open street.

one of the monsters lopes past Tek and his mysterious acquaintance without even noticing them. another one stops to sniff the air in their vicinity, but turns away almost immediately. whatever they smell like, the dog-creature isn't interested.

a ripped-off limb flies in their direction, rolling to a stop in front of both of them. the creature gives Tek a cursory glance... before slowly reaching out, picking up the arm, and pulling it back into the depths of its robes.

he'll save it for later, if that's all right.]

[...well.

through the whole disaster, Tek is tense but unblinkingly intrigued. it has been a long time since he's been so close to monstrous slaughter, and never as an idle audience like this. it's a little thrilling, honestly.

until his new friend helps himself to the disembodied limb that flops across the ground, anyway. then, he can't help but look a little bit nauseated.

...still, this isn't the strangest way that he has met a friend.]

[again, if the creature is offended, it shows no outward signs of such dissatisfaction. it is content to sit while the dogs continue their rampage. all and all, this event has unfolded rather pleasantly for everyone.

and then, somewhere amidst the screaming and scrabbling, a male voice bellows out over the crowd.]

I thought you said there were mages! Not a pack of man-eating, mother-fucking--

[there's an awful squeal as one of the dogs goes flying backwards just at the edge of their view, skidding ungracefully to a stop with a huge gash in its chest. from the same direction as the other voice, Tek hears a startlingly familiar voice yelling back--]

I know, I know, but there's something down here!

[a loud gunshot cracks through the cave, accompanied by another wounded yelp.]

[the first voice has Tek snapping to attention, half-crouching as he's suddenly ready to fight or flee. voices like that could mean nothing, or they could--as they more often tend to--mean serious trouble for magical creatures like himself and his new friend here. at first, he's planning on riding out another few moments to decide exactly what to do, and judge whether or not he can bring the other monster with.

that second voice, though.

when he hears that one, Tek jumps up to his feet in an instant. that voice really is trouble.]

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