GRATIA // PSL

[skeletoncity]

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?

Comments

[skeletoncity]

[they aren't playing a game this time--not formally--but the question is just as weighted as the ones they passed back and forth at the party. he won't lose any clothing over it, but he might lose something else.]

Why did you pick out those items in particular?

[heresyandlace]

Why did you?

[it sounds much more accusatory than he means (or at least could be taken pretty badly in a place where an admission could get you in trouble) so he does put himself a little more in the potential line of fire.]

I felt that they were special.

[skeletoncity]

[unfortunately, Tek finds a way to describe Tonic's attachment to those items before the words occur to Tonic himself.]

So do I.

[but therein lies the issue--which he settles into, hunching his shoulders forward a little and frowning as if trying to solve a difficult math problem.]

But they aren't special, objectively. They're just things.

[heresyandlace]

[his smile lights up a little--looking both a bit surprised and as though a thought is occurring to him.] You think so?

[yes, he's definitely getting an idea. he takes a final sip of his tea and sets the cup down with finality. he's done with that. he has something much better to move on to now.

as he stands, he waves a flippant hand back at his friend.]

I want to try something. Close your eyes.

[skeletoncity]

That's a distressing request.

[he continues staring attentively at Tek. he isn't deflecting from the situation yet, but he will need a little more convincing than that.]

[heresyandlace]

[that's okay, because Tek has enough resolve for the both of them. he hardly glances over his shoulder while he begins looking through some of the collections of objects he'd been exploring earlier. the traces of magic are so faint that he needs to get close and focus while rummaging through them to remember which ones they had been. it's more difficult to pick up while multitasking.]

No, it's fine. If anything, it will probably prove that it's just a coincidence, right?

[or he'll be able to claim so, anyway. that's the important element of this test. and with a few objects collected safely in his hands, hidden from view, he turns back around.]

Don't worry. You won't even have to say anything. Just close your eyes and hold out your hands.

[skeletoncity]

[it won't be a coincidence. the man watches Tek busy around for a moment... but his gaze eventually falls to the tea kettle, and the few small furls of steam still rising from its spout.

but nothing comes of it. he lifts his eyes back to Tek as the other man turns back to him, with no guesses as to what he's got in his hands. eventually, sigh a sigh and a small, crooked smile, he closes his eyes and holds out his mismatched hands.]

I really should stop assuming that I know how these meetings of ours will go.

[heresyandlace]

[can someone chuckle in agreement? because Tek does so as he settles down across from the other man again.

reaching out, he carefully tucks one bead against each of Tonic's palms and folds his fingers down. there, he pauses there for a moment so he can explain before anything else has a chance to happen.]

Now. Without looking, decide which one feels more special than the other, but don't say anything. Just tell me when you've chosen. Then, I'll point to the one that I think is special--but, you don't have to tell me if I'm right or not, if you don't want.

[and he'll take his hands away, leaving Tonic to decide what to do with this new game.]

[skeletoncity]

[he could point out that this feels very juvenile. he could also point out that, statically, assuming there are no other outside influences, there's a 50/50 chance of them both picking the same bead anyway. he could even point out that these beads shouldn't feel like anything, because that's not how well-behaved, King-fearing citizens interact with the world.

but he says none of that, frowning at the challenge that's been placed in both of his hands. he's never done this without looking before... and it bothers him that he already knows which one he hand-picked because the shine of it delighted him, and which one may as well be any other bead in the shop.

he feels a little tricked, suddenly. which is stupid, because he's the one who allowed himself to fall into this particular position. the only thing keeping him from pedaling back is the strange, somewhat attractive thought of Tek damning himself just as much as he's damning Tonic by playing this game in the first place.

either way, when he opens his eyes, he draws back both of his hands, puts them behind his back just long enough to swap the beads between hands a couple of times, and then holds two loose fists out for Tek to pick between.]

Okay, which one is it?

[given even a moment of serious consideration, Tek will realize that the bead is not in either hand, but was instead tucked into the top of Tonic's corset during the misdirection.]

[heresyandlace]

[he does need a moment of thought, and he's only mostly looking at Tonic's hands while he thinks. a second or two later, he does hone in on that little glimmer of magical energy, and his smile is a sudden one.

it's not so much a triumphant look as it is one of delight. because, with that one little trick that Tonic has pulled, it shows that he is more concerned with actually testing what they're talking about and pinning something on Tek than he is with protecting himself in this moment. he could have easily left the game as it was, with plenty of room to claim coincidence, but he didn't.

so, being careful not to bump the cups and kettle, Tek leans across the table and gets close--so that he can slip an arm around the other man's side and reach for the back of his corset.

he doesn't need to fumble for a thing, knowing right where the bead is. instead of bothering to dig it out of its hiding spot, he presses a fingertip against it from the outside, pushing the little thing into Tonic's back.]

[skeletoncity]

[really, he knew he had no real chance of protecting himself the moment he realized that Tek knew something about those items that he did not. he tried to pretend it would go away if they just didn't talk about it, but still--that gut instinct of his wanted him to dig deeper.

after all, for as much as he seems preoccupied with keeping himself out of harm's way... every once in a while, it's advantageous to let yourself get stabbed if it gives you an opening to stab the other guy much harder.]

You're playing a very dangerous game, you know.

[his voice is low and he stays very still, making it hard to tell if this is a warning or a come-on, or both at the same time.]

[heresyandlace]

[and what happens if that other guy intentionally leaves his throat wide open, waiting for the knife? because that's what Tek is doing--more or less literally, on top of the metaphorical implications.

he's basically doing exactly what Robin had told him not to do. he's admitting to something that could be used very much against him if he loses the wager he's making. it's a big, blatant risk, no matter how pretty and flirtatious he's dressing it up to be.

unfortunately, this is exactly why he's doing it. he's got to push the limits somewhere. might as well do it in this semi-safe space, with a friend who keeps encouraging him.]

So are you.

[skeletoncity]

[he thinks, that if it really came down to it, he could win.

this is the one secret he cannot afford to let out. this secret is was keeps him lying low, it's what may finally get him killed one day. it's the reason he's always seething at Robin, who plucked it out of him as if it was plain as day. the only reason it isn't ruining his time with Tek is because Tek has the common decency to give something equal in return.

he's given him a fighting chance, and down here, that goes a long way.]

May I just say... [he tilts his head just a little... but it's because he's starting to laugh. he doesn't move away, but he does take back an inch of distance, just to be able to gesture flamboyantly.] ...That I am so glad you weren't actually considering wearing any of those things.

[heresyandlace]

[Tek returns to a much easier smile, laughing along with him as he leans back to his side of the table, just as happy to hop to a simpler topic as he had been before.

he's leaving the bead in the other man's corset, though. Tonic can just deal with that one himself.]

What, you don't think statement jewelry could be my thing?

[skeletoncity]

If it was, I don't think that's where you would start, darling.

[the colors are wrong, the shapes don't flatter... and that ring, just the thought of Tek seriously wearing something so inelegant seems like a crime. Tonic, now very satisfied with the score of their conversation, picks up his cooling cup of tea with a smile.]

I assume you don't mind black. I've got a lot of black in mind for you.

[heresyandlace]

Of course. I may collect things of various colors, but I think you've seen the extent of the color palette I actually wear.

[lavender, violet, assorted shades of pink--whatever would go with that necklace of his, and that's about it.]

[skeletoncity]

[and now that they're here, coming down from a very intense reveal and actually about to play dress-up... he finds himself feeling very tired.

he's still excited, yes. wary, curious. charmed. all of these things. but despite the many, many questions he still has for his friend, he can't quite summon the energy to dive back into them yet. maybe that game of theirs took a little more out of him than he thought...

so, to compromise, Tonic starts grabbing up nearby bundles of fabric and produces a surprising number of pillows from under furniture, and quickly constructs himself something comfortable and substantial to lean back on. lounge back on, really, as he settles in with his cup of tea and a very self-satisfied expression on the good half of his face.]

Why don't you start exploring, see what speaks to you? I'd like to watch, for a while.

[heresyandlace]

[with a look and a statement like that, how could he say no? chuckling at absolutely nothing in particular, Tek pushes himself gracefully to his feet and begins to wander.] --If you insist.

[he at least has the good sense to leave all jewelry alone, for now. he starts with clothing, though it really is a truly aimless exploration at first. he obeys the instruction to be led around by his whims and instincts--from one uniquely-cut sleeve here, to a bit of interesting brocade there.]

Other than finding a replacement for that jacket-- [the one he abruptly decided he no longer loved, of course] I'm not entirely sure of all what I'm looking for... Which leaves me dangerously open to suggestion, I suppose.

[skeletoncity]

[even more pleased that he's being humored, Tonic lets out a happy sigh and contentedly watches his strange companion wander through his shop.

now that he's getting the restorative space he needs, he's perfectly happy to chat and suggest and continue his streak of curiosity from his place near the floor.]

I did say I would make you something... And jackets are a fine place to start. I keep most of them in that big chest, over there.

[he points--it's a large, wooden thing that takes up a full corner of the tent, the space is arranged with a small throw rug (muted, dark colors, of course) and a full-length mirror, as well as several stools for either sitting or draping coats on.

the lid is already open, displaying a few things already--a long black duster, a shorter coat with several extra lines of buttons, and a black, surprisingly simple-looking jacket.]

[heresyandlace]

[ah, and with an appealing direction to start with, he can really absorb himself in the task. throw a few pretty jackets at him and he's happy to give them all of his attention.

he first looks over the three most visible pieces, but they only have a few elements each that he likes. some of the texture and fit of the duster, the extra buttons and details of the short coat, and the sleekness of the jacket--he takes time to mull over those traits and gather what he'd ideally like to see combined into the perfect jacket, before he sets those out of the way and moves on, digging into the chest.]

Whatever I end up with, it must have stitchwork like the one you'd worn to the party. Everything else about it is negotiable.

[skeletoncity]

[the chest has all kinds of things buried in it--jackets, mostly, some with feathers, spiked collars, straps, buckles, rivets, holes with animal bones strung up in them like flies caught in abstract spiderwebs, tears that reveal intentional, darker fabric underneath, jackets that appear to be made from ripping apart and sewing together several separate, unrelated pieces of clothing...

but then there are also some other things. a dark masquerade mask, a draw-string purse, and one long sock with an eye design stitched all over it have somehow snuck into the chest as well.]

I'd be delighted to come up with something for you, darling.

[he may have been thinking about a design already, in fact.]

[heresyandlace]

[Tek pauses on the inexplicable sock, looking it over, but that's not where his mind settles. that bizarre piece of clothing only serves to kick off a whole line of thoughts that ultimately settle on a huffy sigh.]

...Of all the treasures my family could have had, helpfully passing them down along the line, artistic talent has never been one of them.

[skeletoncity]

[Tonic is very much enjoying observing Tek with a bit of distance... he's usually so zeroed-in on the man's face and posture that he doesn't have much room to enjoy the way that he carries himself, and the relatively reserved way that he interacts with the world, and what it looks like when something is starting to bother him.]

Never? [he gives a small, sympathetic laugh when Tek finally voices his thought.] Not even a little?

[surely, especially with these rich types--someone along the way had to be a painter or a poet or something along those lines.]

[heresyandlace]

[tossing the sock aside--where he has been placing all of the things that clearly don't belong in this chest--he sighs again. the sound is more drawn-out and dramatic this time, befitting the subject.]

Some of our more distant relatives fancied themselves to be sculptors, writers... but, even still, you would likely laugh at the attempts.

[the next jacket he picks up has three-quarter-length sleeves, and so becomes an easy target for him to focus his disdain.]

We all deeply enjoy the arts, and have many thoughts and opinions on all sorts of artistic subjects, but have absolutely no skill in it ourselves. So... critics, I guess you could say.

[skeletoncity]

[he laughs briefly at the jab towards art critics, finally leaning forward to place his now-empty tea cup down on the table next to him.]

That's very interesting. Does that mean you fancy me an artist?

[he's never really considered himself "an artist". a skilled clothier, possibly, a maker of quality wares, but not one of those creative types who sit around and pontificate about abstract shapes and hidden meanings for the sake of the meager validation of their peers.]