psychoshenanigans | Skeleton City // PSL

"...'Kay."

Truly, off to a riveting start. Something clunks around in the wall as a water heater turns on, but Vincent barely notices. He shifts to start shrugging off a massive case he'd been carrying on his back.

"...So, you... Okay?"

Again, an honest question in an awkward setting--but if this poor guy is just someone that Robin drugged and kidnapped against his will, Vincent wants to at least give him the chance to say that while the aforementioned troublemaker is busy dicking around in the other room.

"Okay. Alright. We're alright... we're... all right. All of us are right."

They're trying. The effort is there in their tone, as they make several attempts to string words together in a way that makes human sense. And as they do so, there's the shuffling sound of the creature moving around on the bed. Scooting across the mattress, maybe getting closer.

Vincent listens as the stranger answers. It does not actually assure him that things are fine, but it does cement the fact that whatever's going on with this person is probably way out of his league of expertise.

"S'that right," he eventually says. He can hear them shuffling closer, but he doesn't actually move his head to look at them. "S'there a lot of you in there?"

That's what Robin told him, anyway. He can't help but sound a little skeptical--but that comes from years and years of living with less-than-healthy people who think all kinds of things about themselves.

"Mhmm," Phalanx answers a little distantly, very matter-of-fact, and they sound much closer this time. They sound very direct. Probably looking the giant man right in the face.

"We're all here."

"Well... That's good."

Weird, and not really what he was asking... But unlike his chatterbox of a partner, Vincent isn't in it for the mind games, or even to gather information. He merely talks as a means to an end, with that end preferably being drinks, or something that will pay him. For now, he would accept this person being a little less skittish.

It seems to be working, a little. He tilts his head, belatedly and intentionally, to point his face towards where he thinks that Phalanx's face must be.

"Wouldn't want 'em wandering around somewhere else, I guess..."

Though, clearly, any confidence he may be gaining in the conversation does nothing to improve his basic communicative skills...

"No, no..." At least Vincent's awkward stab at conversation is met with wholehearted agreement. He might accidentally be speaking right at Phalanx's level. "They don't. We don't."

And, goodness Phalanx sounds pretty close now. By the best guess, they must be propped up on their knees and peering right at Vincent's face, and it's followed by a pause that sounds an awful lot like staring. And a second or two after that comes a little gasp of surprise.

"...Glass!"

Vincent can't see it, but there's a finger pointed alarmingly close to his face.

Vincent talks with kids a lot. Now that he thinks of it, this guy kind of talks like a little kid anyway. And they aren't slurring or anything, so it's probably...

Immediately forgetting what he was thinking, at the sudden gasp. He looks surprised, belatedly leaning back a bit-- "What?"

He's already reflexively reaching up with one of his giant hands, feeling clumsily for what he thinks is a finger being pointed right in his face. The rest of his thoughts follow a beat later, "Oh, you mean... my eyes?"

Phalanx is usually pretty slow in the physical reflex department, but with how focused they have been for the past few minutes, and the fact that they're already pretty leery of those giant hands, that limb is zipped back to the protective folds of their cloak in an instant. Vincent can probably hear the little shoop of fabric.

"No. They're not eyes."

"Uh..."

Like someone missing the last step of the stairs, Vincent startles a little when his hand hits useless air. That sound was... them moving away again? Taking their hand back?

"Yeah, they're... They're fake eyes. Mine are gone."

Which, he had kind of assumed this person had figured out by now, but... then again, people can be surprisingly slow with this sort of thing. He's had to explain this dozens of times already, so he just kind of waves his own fingers in front of his glass eyes to illustrate his lack of vision.

"I'm blind. Kind of a thing."

If Vincent could see, he'd notice Phalanx's clear blue eyes and brown hair--definitely a change, but only accidentally matching the giant man's own description. They're so focused now, both hands clutched urgently to their chest, while they stare at Vincent's face in wonder.

"I'm blind... Mm. Was. But my eyes are real."

Luckily, Vincent can't see a thing. All he has to focus on is the confusing string of words coming out of the mouth of the person in front of him.

"You... are? You-- Wait, what?"

He was doing okay up until now, but that wasn't what he'd expected to hear--so now he's lost the plot, a bit, and is still trying to figure out what any of that was supposed to mean.

Around the corner, the medicine cabinet slams distinctly shut. Maybe Robin is finally finishing up...

Whoop, Phalanx's voice sounds a little farther away now, as they sit back down properly in the wake of Vincent's slightly-raised voice.

"...What?"

And it's not the 'what' of 'what's wrong with that?' It's the exact sort of 'what' that Vincent has just demanded at them--another bewildered echo.

"...What?"

Because Vincent has nothing to say other than to express more confusion over the apparent lack of clarity here. What does he mean, 'what'? Is that such a weird thing to ask?

"Damn," interjects Robin, now standing in the doorway with his hands stuffed into his pocket, a smirk on his face, "Is there an echo in here, or what?"

At least one of them had to be expecting what comes next. With one word in particular bouncing between all of them like that, Phalanx literally cannot help it.

"...What?"

"Yeah!" Robin grins, not missing a beat, "Like that!"

He plunks an arm down on Vincent's shoulder, leaning on the taller man as if he was a bookcase or a dresser--and to be fair, Vincent himself doesn't do much other than huff in complaint.

"So, are you guys getting introduced, and all that?"

"All that."

Phalanx sounds confident in this fact. Robin even gets a tentatively proud smile from where they're awkwardly bundled up on the edge of the bed.

They tried! Talking and interacting and everything. The effort of all that focus still shows--for whatever reason--in the new color of their features.

"...We are?" says the taller man, turning to look blindly at his friend.

"Ah, yes..." Robin has a much better idea of what's going on, noticing Phalanx's blue eyes and the familiar brown hair peeking out from under the edge of their hood again. Given that Vincent hasn't freaked out about it yet, it's likely that the tall man doesn't have the slightest clue that the change is happening... and that is a very reassuring thing.

So he smiles back at them, fairly proud himself, "Good, you two should be friends."

He barely moves away from Vincent, but reaches a hand out for Phalanx to come take it again all the same, just like they'd been doing before.

"Come on, water's ready."

Robin's proud smile only reinforces Phalanx's confidence. Look how good they've done at interacting and focusing and all of those other things that normal humans do! They even respond right away to Robin's beckon. It takes some clumsy untangling to get themself free and on their feet again, but they're quick to take Robin's hand.

And when it's time for the pair to part ways with their giant friend, Phalanx does another thing that normal humans do, smiling at Vincent-- "Bye!"

"...Okay," Vincent says, as Robin leads them out of the room. And a moment later, belatedly, "...Bye."

But then they're off, even if it is not very far. They step back into the front room and around the corner, into the dim light of a small, tile-covered bathroom. It's not immaculate by any means, between some weird, dark smudges on the walls and the grime collecting along the edges of the room--but Robin uses this bathroom almost as much as Vincent does, so it's not quite as bad as the rest of the house.

The tub seems pretty nice, filled with gently steaming water. No shower curtain, though the rings are still up on the rod.

"Do you want any help getting your clothes off?" Robin turns to ask them, with the casual pleasantness of someone who helped a lot of people take off a lot of clothes in his lifetime.

It's hard to tell when something in the physical world will catch Phalanx's attention or go completely beyond their notice. Often it's the shiny or repeating things that are most of interest--the henges of beer cans as an example--with everything else blending together as one big meaningless backdrop, but the behavior is not always that predictable.

Vincent's bathroom, for example. There shouldn't be anything about this space that is particularly eye-catching, but Phalanx's attention immediately goes exploring, and it's not to the tub or whatever toiletries might be setting out on the counter. For whatever reason, Phalanx apparently finds the walls here fascinating.

Even Robin's question about disrobing isn't enough to distract the creature. Phalanx only murmurs some inarticulate, noncommittal sound in response, and doesn't make a move to begin the whole undressing process.

No one else would have noticed, but Robin has something to hide. He'd thought he'd done a decent enough job, removing his manic words from the walls and cleaning up that old blood splatter off the floor... But now he has to wonder if Phalanx can't see them anyway.

A lot of the odd things that Phalanx says can be chocked up to coincidence, but they have no reason to be looking with interest at something that isn't there--unless they have an inclination of what that nothingness used to be.

"What are you looking at?" He asks, watching Phalanx's face for an answer.

At first, Phalanx doesn't answer. Their wandering attention has found something to focus on--some blank place on the wall that would be of interest to exactly no one in the world besides Robin. And as they focus on something that isn't there anymore, that lovely blue shade in their eyes abruptly drops to black.

Very purposefully, Phalanx reaches out a hand to jab a finger against one certain scrubbed-clean tile, which currently looks exactly like all of the other tiles around it. That sameness is a very recent development, of course.

Eventually, Phalanx does answer, but it's only after they've stared hard at that empty place for a good few seconds.

"Nothing."

Hm. A strange development.

"The absence of something," he clarifies, not looking at the tile that once had the word 'stupid' scribbled on it, over the start of some other thought. He doesn't remember all of the things he's written, but that one was always in easy sight.

But Phalanx isn't reading his every inner thought--not quite--so he takes this chance to start moving things along. No use dwelling, no point in giving him more to look at.

"I did just clean," he admits, reaching over to tug Phalanx's hood away from his head.

The hood is pulled back, Phalanx's eyes are startled back to blue, and everyone in the room is focused (mostly) on the present again.

They look so different as nearly-human. With all that developing color, and normally-sized, solid-looking irises, they don't look so much like some kind of living doll anymore. There's even an interesting sort of texture adding waves to their hair.

And with the way that Phalanx looks at Robin with surprise then, they could be reacting to the sudden removal of their hood, or just finding themselves perplexed to see Robin standing right there at all.

Faced with surprise like that... perhaps he is overreacting. Yeah, they may be able to discern things that they shouldn't, but what are they going to do with it?

It's kind of funny, watching them snap back... So he puts a big smile on his face, waving a little.

"Hi! Is everyone here again?"

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