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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[he chuckles in a rueful way. the invitation makes him wish that he too had a vice to fall back on. he does have his pitfalls and indulgences, of course... but none of them seem particularly suitable for present company. not yet, anyway.

however, it makes him think of something else entirely, which leads him onto another thought. the mental path continues on for a minute or so, until he reaches his next question.

he doesn't ask it as if it's part of the game, however. aside from the sideways glance afterward and the touch of a smirk that goes with it, it could have been an honest question.]

What do you think of me?

[with all this waiting, he still hasn't lit his cigarette. he pulled out his lighter, waited, flicked it a couple of times, waited again, all the while patiently watching Tek with the kind of vested interest that a predator would normally have in their prey.

maybe he was thinking of the kind of questions he could ask to stump his opponent... or maybe he was considering what Tek might ask him next, because it doesn't take him more than a few seconds to answer, very pointedly:]

I think you're boring.

[and then he continues watching.]

[Tek prides himself on being a very smart, savvy creature... but there are some pitfalls that he will always fall into. he must have been expecting Tonic to continue to play nice, to indulge in their game full of unspoken etiquette and intrigue, because he's visibly caught off guard by the answer.

he happens to be looking off somewhere else when Tonic responds, but the other can still see him blink and pause, and watch the slow way he inhales as the words sink in and flood his brain. even if it is a lie, even if it had just been some lightheated joke, the insult sticks.

you don't say things like that when you're playing a nice game. that's not how you play.

when he turns to his opponent again, his smile spreads like a knife leaving its sheath. he's working to keep a hold on the expression, but it still edges into a sneer. its all he can do to keep his teeth from becoming sharper.]

You're lying.

[it almost sounds like a threat.]

[this was a calculated risk. Tonic was not ready to give Tek the satisfaction watching him mull over how much he does or does not like him. if he told the truth, well, there'd be nothing for Tek to chase anymore. Tonic would look easy.

if he lied, obviously, he'd lose... but protect a lot more than just whatever secrets are under his clothes. and his risk paid off. he's discovered a very interesting crack in the armor.

but he didn't mean to make him mad, genuinely, and he isn't above backing out if it means it will keep him from getting murdered by some potentially very dangerous stranger. he smiles too, a wide one that grabs at both sides, but only on accident. his brows also furrow up, a little apologetic.]

Yes, of course. [and then he leans back from where he had been unknowingly tensing, shaking his head, breaking that eye contact now that he has what he wanted.]
Sweetheart, you're already one of the more interesting people I've ever met.

[hopefully that's enough of an apology for now. he diligently starts undoing the ties that hold his sleeves together in the front.]

[it might have been enough of an apology, technically, but it has also changed the lay of the land a little bit. for better or worse, things have been slightly shifted.

Tonic might be leaning back, but Tek props himself up a bit more. that restlessness, or something a little less nice, has returned to the subtleties of his body language.]

What's next?

[Tonic notices. he does hope that he hasn't irreparably damaged the pleasant rapport they'd been establishing. after taking that still-unlit cigarette out of his mouth with his clumsier hand, he reaches across himself to pull down the sleeve on his good arm.

as the fabric is peeled away, it reveals a sleeveless top with a high collar, pale skin, and a light scattering of scars. it's easy to assume that they're just the result of living a hard life in a tough world, different sizes, different shapes, different situations he's found himself in... until his wrists are visible. those scars are many, and intentional, and very, very telling. they're old, fading with time, but that doesn't change the fact that they are there to begin with.]

What's next is that I apologize for being mean, I think.

[unfortunately, he sounds a little... formal about it, his tone is just a little too crisp and polite compared to before. either he is trying a little too hard to tread carefully with Tek, or--more likely--he's trying not to let on that he's getting a little nervous. he smiles at his opponent, one side of his face catching up after the other.]

Would another piece of clothing even the playing field, do you think?

[fortunately for Tonic (sort of), Tek only holds a grudge as long as the scales are tipped in that direction. there are many ways to even them out, and Tonic is already making significant progress there.

nervous is good. it lessens the urge to knock him down. vulnerability is good. the scars are helping. an offer for more is even better.

if Tek had been feeling nicer, he would have dismissed the idea of his opponent taking an extra loss. he also would have at least tried to hide how his eyes play over the marks on Tonic's skin as they're revealed. but the scales still aren't quite level again yet.

he'd also be lying if he said he wasn't extremely curious to see what's under the other sleeve.]

That does seem to the method of penance we're establishing, doesn't it?

Well then... Consider me penalized, sweetheart.

[Tonic would be a little offended if Tek was pretending not to look. it's like with his face--he prefers that people openly stare instead of indirectly implying that his flawed appearance is shameful, taboo. still, he would also be lying if he said he wasn't anxious to get Tek's hungry eyes off of this particular flaw and onto one that's a little easier to talk about.

he puts the cigarette back in his mouth, reaching forward to tug off the final stocking. as he does, the reason for the strangeness surrounding his foot becomes vividly clear... because it's obviously made of wood.

it's nicely polished, birch maybe, vaguely matching the color of his skin. there's one brass hinging mechanism in the ankle and one long hinge for all of the toes, giving it enough mobility to slip into, say, a high-heeled boot.... but while it looks very well-crafted, especially for down here, it was still carved more in the image of an ideal foot and not to match the good one that Tonic already had.

he pulls this foot towards him, resting it on his other leg, skirt riding up to reveal that this prosthetic extends up past a knee joint as well. Tonic looks over at Tek as he does this, of course, to see what he thinks of this penance offering, and judge whether or not he's finally in the clear.]

[if Tonic hasn't been completely forgiven, he has at least bought himself a ticket out of any current danger. the moment it becomes clear what his leg actually is, Tek's entire expression changes.

it's a satisfying reveal. his eyes widen, he draws in a breath of surprise, and then a grin spreads across his entire face. there's nothing lurid or gawking about it, just delighted. if anything, he looks utterly fascinated by the construct, with all prior transgressions forgotten in the moment. before he can think of whether it would be an appropriate idea or not, he's leaning closer to get a better look.]

Amazing!

[Tonic really doesn't mean to keep being surprised by the things that Tek says, but after all of their games, their careful calculations and measured negotiations of information, he hadn't expected the man to be so... delighted.

not even delighted in the "I could use this to destroy you later" way, or the bizarre way that the tinkerers down-below would covet it... but instead in the way of a child being shown a nice, fancy new toy, or maybe being told a very good story they've never heard before.

so he leans back into the pillows at Tek leans in closer, looking openly confused.]

You... Think so? Really?

[Tek didn't mean to either, honestly. but he can't help himself once he sees this clever, beautiful invention strapped onto the man's body. he has the sense to keep his hands to himself, but it looks like it's an effort. the hinges, the handiwork... when he finally peels his eyes away and returns his attention to his companion's face, he appears impressed.]

Of course. Don't you?

Well, not so... Enthusiastically, I suppose.

[maybe it's because it's his leg, and he's suffered a lot because of it, but he wouldn't go so far as to say it's amazing. while he appreciates art and sees the value of a helpful tool, his soul is not so moved as to find it especially impressive. it's just... a very good wooden leg.

the toes on his wooden foot bend up, and then back down. it's hard to tell if Tonic does it on purpose, because he appears to be preoccupied with examining the expression on Tek's face.]

You keep finding ways to surprise me.

[whether Tonic meant to or not, he'll at least be alerted to the motion by the way that Tek's eyes are drawn to it in an instant. however, he does keep his staring brief this time, because of the comment that comes after.

his attention returns to find Tonic staring at him again. so, he puts on another one of those sly smirks that doesn't pretend to be trustworthy in the least. the fascinated delight switches to something considerably more unkind without effort.]

Well, I wouldn't want to come off as boring.

[there's a beat as he fully processes what Tek says, the sudden shift, the fact that it's even coming up again--but his answer is to laugh, half his face twisting to something relieved, or maybe even charmed.

it maybe isn't the right response, but here he is, sitting half-undressed in a pile of pillows with someone he's only just met, already down to the prosthetic leg. his smile turns into a crooked, cunning smirk, but he's having fun again. something about this has put him back in the mood.]

Certainly not, dear. You do know that a lot of people frown upon things like this, right?

[he pats his leg, in case that wasn't clear.]

Edited 2018-11-03 06:26 (UTC)

[--there. right there, with the same expression reflected between the two of them, balance is restored. it's all right again.

they are having fun again, even as Tek's brow raises in light surprise and he motions incredulously at Tonic's leg.]

Wait--this counts? I'd thought it was only "evil" machinery, and the rotten, poisonous hunks of metal that people are embedding into themselves.

Mm. [he shakes his head a little.] This would be a lot worse if I wasn't so good at what I do, darling.

[and to illustrate, he pulls up the hem of his skirt (very formally, it could hardly be confused as flirtatious by any stretch of the imagination) so that he can show Tek where the prosthetic connects to what's left of his leg.

the stump of the thing ends a bit above the knee. it's fitted snugly into the polished, concave top of the prosthetic, and held in place by brass bands and a thin belt. the whole thing looks very polished, but that isn't what Tonic is referring to--clearly visible, higher up on the remains of his real leg, are strange-looking scars. they're healing well, but they look like they were mean, once. deep and angry, in strange round patterns and jagged cuts, like something was plugged in, maybe drilled, maybe bolted, maybe cut back out of him again.

he regards his own leg with that same smirk.]

Any attachment to things that aren't natural can be considered evil, to some. They say that's how the world ended, after all. What's so different between this leg and a tall building, if the Gods meant for us to stand as we are on flat earth?

[...and then he sticks his tongue out, piercing and all. blech, yuck.]

Edited 2018-11-03 06:51 (UTC)

["enamored" might be a good word for how the stranger from the Capitol is looking at Tonic's butchered leg. his pretty fingers flex out, maybe going to reach out and touch the scars, before he catches himself and politely folds his hand up again. and the words are just as enthralling, really.

he could talk about this all night. he has so many things to say, but when he looks up at Tonic's face again, it's to catch that expression. he can't help it, then--he grins at the petulance and stick out his tongue as well.

two wrong creatures making faces about the gods.]

[Tonic laughs. it's the kind of startled laugh that can't be faked or duplicated, and the first thing that comes out of his mouth is a half-surprised, half-delighted:]

Why?

[why are you SHOWING HIM MORE STARTLING THINGS, TEK. he's running out of room to catalog all this bullshit that doesn't make sense]

Edited 2018-11-03 07:26 (UTC)

[Tonic's startled laugh is contagious, because Tek might not really have been thinking that move through when he'd made it. and so, he laughs at Tonic, he laughs at himself, and he covers his mouth with his hand.

he's still chuckling when he rolls back to give his friend some space. he giggles against his fingers, lying on his back against the pillows, just taking a minute to think of all the ripples he keeps making in this world that isn't ready for him.

he should probably slow down, shouldn't he?]

My apologies.

[he's absolutely not sorry at all.]

[Tonic just sits there, raising a hand to cover his own mouth while he waits for Tek to get himself in order, or maybe waits to see if the whole thing will just magically go away.

it's in this movement that he realizes he's dropped his cigarette, though. was it in his hand, or did it fall stupidly out of his mouth? he finds it, lifts it up, but now makes the firm decision to get back into his coat, find his lighter, and have himself a fucking smoke.

it isn't until he's got a steady smoke trail floating up towards the ceiling that he speaks:]

I want to ask, but I also really don't.

[Tek leaves his hand draped against his forehead as he lounges on the pillows, continuing to reflect on the absurdity of the night. he watches Tonic and his cigarette, and gives one last chuckle when his companion finally speaks.]

It is your turn--if you still feel like playing.

[he moves his stocking'd foot to bump into the other's fake leg.]

Is there anything left that you do want to ask?

[he puffs out a breath of smoke, sending it roiling lazily out the bad side of his mouth. detached, he watches his leg get nudged by a pretty little foot.]

Well, I still have a sleeve. [he looks up, not at anything in particular, casual and conversational now.] And I'll admit I was still hoping to see you with your shirt off.

[though, who knows what's hiding under there. he gets quiet to think for a little bit, pondering what kinds of questions he may even have left for this strange, upsetting, fascinating person.]

[if Tek was concerned about getting the smell of smoke embedded in his clothing, he has a funny way of showing it. seeing Tonic sitting there, pondering, is too much to leave alone. after a minute, he sits up and leans forward to join him there.

he does go slinking in a sort of predatory way, but he's slow about it. he's trying to be nice, showing that he's just playing. he doesn't actually want to crowd him or imply anything too heinous. he just sidles up with a smile, resting his chin lightly on the other's shoulder if he'll let him.]

...What if I'm covered in scales? Would it be too much for you?

[Tonic casually flips him off.

it's to the comment, though, not the closeness. he stays mostly still for that latter part, not seeming to mind so much... he even minutely tilts his head, just to give Tek a little more room to come in close. he seems to be getting comfortable again, bringing his good leg under the bad, finding somewhere to lean back into.]

What if that's why I'm asking, hm? For the scales, obviously.

[and obviously... that isn't why he's asking. he's much clearer about that distinction this time, this is meant to be a joke. (so don't get weird and mad at him again, friend.)]

[he does appreciate the distinction. let's all keep our subtext-game straight, shall we?]

I just wouldn't want to overwhelm your sensibilities.

[it's still lightly teasing, but he does actually want to measure and warn as much as he can. he can better avoid crossing the line if he clearly knows where it is. he wants them to keep having fun. as it currently stands, he doesn't actually want to scare the poor boy.]

...But, if that is the case, I'll be sure to do a better job at losing.

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