Gratia (
skeletoncity) wrote in
psychoshenanigans2017-03-17 10:30 pm
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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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Very observant. Yes, believe it or not, not all of the trouble I've been in has been of my own doing.
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Well, I'll give you this... I've met a fair number of entitled, well-to-do people in my time, and the only ones I've found to be worth knowing are the ones who have ever something else. Trouble is what makes interesting people.
[moving around Tek, he picks up a long piece of black fabric solely to drape it over the the dragon's shoulder and see what the color looks like in the long mirror.]
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[Tek smiles at them both in the mirror--very cocky about it, because he prides himself so very much in both how interesting he is, and the vast amounts of trouble he is capable of getting himself into.
...he's also giving the fabric a good look, of course. not all shades of black are created equal. there is a whole rainbow of black in existence, and it just takes one little warm shade in the wrong direction to look muddy against the absurdly cool hues of his skin and hair.]
Although, I think the key is probably more in the successful surviving of the trouble. Anyone can get themselves into trouble. It takes the special sorts to get themselves back out of it again.
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[Tonic is momentarily caught on the color. it's a little too... purple, some underlying shade that does not flatter the pale complexion of his subject.]
Darling, I think I've seen corpses with more color than you...
[but he switches to something cooler, which immediately looks better, and then he picks up what is essentially half a jacket and holds that up towards Tek as well.]
But we've got options...
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And here I was hoping it would help me fit in with a city of people living in a cave.
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That's right, you don't do that over there, do you.
[thankfully, this isn't the kind of question that asks for an answer. he puts the partial coat down, starting to layer several other colors over Tek's shoulder instead, just to see where it goes.]
Just make sure you go upstairs every once in a while. You'll get sick if you don't.
[this red was a terrible idea. why did he bother? he tosses the swatch away, trying some shredded grey fabric instead.]
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Is that what you all do down here, take periodic trips upstairs, or is that only for us wilting surface types?
[he's sure he's probably heard the answer from Robin at some point in time, but he'd much rather hear Tonic's answer.]
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though part of that might be his reaction to the question--which gets an audible scoff.]
Gods no. Not unless you've struck a very big deal.
[and his tone implicates that this is something very few people ever manage. he continues holding things up to Tek, moving onto trying out a few different kinds of buttons and baubles that he fishes out from that box he grabbed. it's a convenient outlet, though it's impossible for him to keep from looking annoyed.]
There are a lot of people down here who will never see the sun as long as they live.
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...I feel like I should ask before you have pins in your hands, but--what about you?
[Tonic had asked if he'd ever been poor, so he feels like this is a fair question to counter it with.]
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Just once. Before half my face got melted off.
[he frowns, though it only makes it through half of his face.]
I didn't like it much.
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...Was it the principle of the thing? Or, maybe it was just a little too bright for you?
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and it isn't worth being rude; the subject is not dangerous, just unflattering. he lifts at the layers of fabric at Tek's front, clearly mulling over something... and at the end of his train of thought, he clenches his jaw, which makes an audible bone-popping sound on one side.]
Sweetheart, would you do me a favor and take your shirt off? I'm worried I'm going to cut through it on accident.
[he says this with such an easy, business-like cadence that it might even be true. he produces a small pair of scissors (a generous term; it is composed of two small, opposing blades set into a U-shaped piece of metal, which looks both dangerous and very, very sharp) to further his point. he gives Tek a little half-smile, perhaps to keep this from looking like some kind of threat.]
Then I can answer your question.
[okay, so maybe this is also a tiny, friendly ultimatum--but maybe he'll be more willing to discuss embarrassing details if Tek delivers without complaining.]
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as if this had been a turn played within their favorite game, Tek begins to unbutton his shirt without complaint.]
Of course.
[soon, Tonic will have one bare and vulnerable chest, a very expensive necklace exposed, and all the room he needs in order to answer.]
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but here is is again. he absently touches the good side of his own face, both blatantly and unabashedly captivated by the man in front of him.]
It isn't fair. [a beat.] I think I said that last time.
[and then, after a happy sigh, he asks:]
How would you feel about wearing a little piece of something from the dead man who wrecked my face, darling?
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he's horrified. he couldn't be happier.]
...I suppose it depends on what it is.
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Oh, just some of his jacket. I still have a few scraps left.
[nevermind the unsettling implications that he had stolen, coveted, and kept track of this piece of clothing for years--with the mood morbidly lightened, he sets to work draping things back over Tek, dexterously pressing and cutting and pinning pieces together into something that begins to resemble a whole, fitted coat.]
Silk lining, mostly. He didn't deserve it.
[he still has the biggest smile on the one side of his face, as if nothing in the world would bring him more satisfaction than putting a piece of that man's clothing into this very purposeful work of art.]
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even though he's so close to him, Tek is having a hard time keeping his eyes off of him as he works. he can't help it, with the way his hands are all over him, assembling fabric and mementos of dead men on him like artwork on a canvas. it's a string of moments that he couldn't be more caught up in.]
I'm very happy to help.
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So yes, I didn't like how bright it was. [he picks up right where he'd promised to, cutting a very long strip down the length of Tek's arm, close enough to have nicked him if he wasn't paying attention.] But more than that... Well, you'll probably find this silly, but every time I'd leave a building, I felt like I was going to fall into the sky.
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he's going to try not saying anything and just seeing where it goes, at first. but if he's left to his own devices for too many moments, a giggle might slip out. in the meantime, his expression is of one of sheer delight.]
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I knew it wasn't going to happen, obviously, but it just felt so... infinitely big, and empty. I really didn't like it.
[as the two sides of the sleeve fall apart, he sighs a little, half a wide smile on his face as he continues to pin down the new seam without looking up.]
Go on, Up-Top, you can laugh.
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I'm sorry... [he lies, while giggling.] It's just a delightful mental image.
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[maybe this proves that Tonic truly is the better person, as he has yet to stab Tek with any of those sharp little pins of his. at least he seems to be taking the laughter in good humor. this isn't the first time someone has poked fun at him for it. it's certainly one of the nicer times.]
A smaller me almost getting knocked on my ass by something that doesn't move? It's something...
[he wouldn't call it "delightful", though.]
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Yes. It is. I bet you were adorable.
[and then, before either of them can dwell on just how cute he imagines a young Tonic to be, Tek gasps as another thought occurs to him.]
Oh, gods... flying would absolutely kill you, I think.
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Please. I would kill myself. I'd jump off the fucking ship.
[half his mouth turns down in a grimace, until the other half follows in a slightly lopsided attempt to match. just to show how awful that sounds.]
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I love flying. Especially on a good clear day, when you can really see everything--horizon to horizon.
[it really is a miracle that he hasn't been jabbed with pins yet.]
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