psychoshenanigans | Scum & Villainy // Nick & Tonic

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nick,
tonic

Scum & Villainy // Nick & Tonic

It's a quiet day on the ship. Most of the crew is out gathering supplies or ship parts, or holed up in whatever nook of the ship they've taken over as their own. Tonic is at the galley table today, dressed in what he would consider very casual clothing and whatever eyeliner didn't get scrubbed off the night before, picking through a datapad to research potential leads.

Whatever Nick is doing in the galley, it has been happening without interruption for a blessedly long time... But eventually, Tonic's attention wanders, and he suddenly asks one of those blunt questions that are becoming the trademark way the doctor chooses to interact with him.

"Why's your face look like that, anyway?" Perfectly casual, he rests his chin on his hand. "What's the deal?"

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Nick had been cooking, as he often had, preparing various meats and vegetables, an assortment of whatever they had on hand, then patiently making little pockets of dough and stuffing them one at a time as he went. He had made them so many times now, he could do so half asleep. Had, in some cases, eyes dropping used as his hands worked, packing the meats and wrapping the dough and pinching the edges.

"I've been told it's called 'resting bitch face'," Nick answered without looking up from his task. It was supposed to be beef, but Nick never made assumptions about meats bought from questionable sources.

It didn't look like any sentient species he knew, that was what mattered.

Tonic loves watching Nick cook. It's one of the reasons he doesn't try to barge in on Nick's life as often as he does with the others. Being allowed to sit peacefully amidst soft, busy sounds and familiar smells is worth the price of a little self-control, most days.

But not today, apparently. The comment gets a very genuine laugh out of him, but he still sets his datapad down with a crooked smile.

"That's good, but no. I mean the way your skin looks, the different colors."

Its meditative, like flying, like finding your way between the spots of light amidst a sea of blackest black. Pack, pinch, set aside, pack, pinch, set aside-

The scent of rich, savory, spices permeate the whole of the mess hall, having long since sunk into every porous material therein.

Nick's lips quirk up in a crooked half smile, though he doesn't look away from his work so that Tonic can't see how much he enjoys getting the genuine laugh.

"I could ask you the same thing, you know," Nick replies. He knows that something went badly, knows what horrific injuries look like. Nick has seen many corpses in his time - plasma burns, asphyxiation, hypothermia.

He's seen corpses that look better than Tonic

"You could," the doctor agrees, "Are you going to?"

Tonic has also seen corpses that look better than he does, so he's always a little surprised that everyone, including Athri, has mostly left him alone about it. Nick has actually asked him more unprompted questions than anyone else on the ship--which is a grand total of two, if he remembers correctly, neither of which he actually answered at the time.

But maybe today will be the day that things line up for both of them, in this savory-smelling room, with the ship actually quiet for once. He wouldn't be opposed to it.

"Mmmm," Nick hums, not really an agreement or disagreement. He tends to not interrogate people - let people keep their secrets, and they do so in return. Tonic has taken the first step there, though, so the question is instead on pushing back.

"Tell me yous and I'll tell you mine," he answers finally, gathering up the filled dough pockets to put in the big pot of simmering water he has on the range.

Tonic makes a sound, but then also says nothing for a moment. He knows he has time. The food still needs to cook.

This is normally where someone wanders in, or starts asking other questions, or even speaks for him... But there is only boiling water and the sounds of settling ship, so there is nothing for him to do but finally put his thoughts in order.

“...That’s very hard for me to trust,” he eventually admits, lacing his mismatched fingers in front of him on the table, “But that‘s my problem, not yours. May I make one request, first?”

"Knock yourself out, " Nick says easily, wiping his hands off on a dish rag once all the dough pockets are ready to boil and can be left with only a casual watch.

Tonic is getting the short end of the stick here, after all - not because Nick won't answer as truthfully as he can, but because the answer is a deeply unsatisfying one as far as he's concerned.

This won't actually do anything to balance the scale--but it will make him feel better, and sometimes that's almost the same thing.

"Would you make us some tea?" He kind of. Slides forward along the table until his chin is basically resting on its surface. His boneless lounging is a good sign that he's comfortable. "Or some coffee, I don't really care. Whatever hasn't been snatched up yet."

While Nick had a habit of grousing about anything for any reason, he took over cooking duties almost entirely because he genuinely enjoyed being in the kitchen and providing for others that way.

"You're just too lazy to get up," he accused, but he already had the electric kettle switched on and was fetching two mismatched mugs and grabbing the various tins of tea until he found one that had enough for two good cups that would have the caffeine kick he expected Tonic was looking for.

Lapsang souchong it was, along with a quickly scribbled note on the magnetic board next to the cabinet about needing to get more tea when they had a chance.

Soon enough he was placing a steaming cup down on the table in front of Tonic, not bothering to set out any cream or sugar with it. His own cup had a healthy dose of cream but no sugar.

"Would it help if I told you that your answer wont change my opinion of you?" Nick prompted after taking a sip of his own tea.

He doesn't deny the accusation, settling comfortably into his own shoulders as Nick is kind enough to do exactly what he's asked of him.

It's not so much that Tonic distrusts Nick, it's more that Tonic distrusts all intelligent beings on a fundamental level, for no other reason than that they are fallible and occasionally unpredictable. But the tea is a good sign, so he sits back up and wraps his fingers around the mug instead. It's warm. Nice against his bad hand.

"Mm... It might." A small, breathy laugh. "I haven't decided yet."

But fair's fair, and the scene is set. He takes a sip of his tea before saying:

"The short story is that some thugs jumped me in a warehouse, and when it didn't go so well for them, the last one tried to dunk me in a vat of acid to slow me down. I put my arm out--" He holds out his bad arm, leaning in that direction to emphasize, "--Touched the bottom before my whole body could go under. Managed to shove myself back out. I think he expected it do burn a lot faster than it did."

It was painful, though. Very, very painful.

"I believe that one of my brothers is responsible."

Nick's eyebrows raised at the explanation. Whatever Tonic had gone though surely had to have been extremely painful, but 'a vat of acid' was something Nick hadn't considered at all. And to have your own family as a suspect...

He didn't pity Tonic, because Nick wasn't the pitying sort. It did make a lot of his cagey behavior make sense, though. If you couldn't trust your own family, who could you trust?

This, of course, coming from an orphan who only had some platonic ideal of family held in his mind to compare to.

"I have no idea what's up with my face," Nick answered, feeling rather bad that he didn't have some great truth to reveal to Tonic in return for him telling Nick what was clearly something he prefered to keep to himself. "I was found on Vsevolod - it's a small backwater agricultural planet. Wandered in from the badlands, I'm told, didn't speak for the first few years. I was so young at the time though I don't remember it or where I was before then. Your guess is as good as mine."

It may not be as dramatic as Tonic's story, but he listens carefully all the same. He gazes down at his mug as if thinking very deeply about the steam rising from its contents.

"Interesting."

His feelings on the matter are complicated, but strangely positive. Terrible things happen to people and families all the time. He's glad that Nick is now with people who will allow him to pursue whatever happiness he wants.

"May I ask you a personal question?"

Well, Tonic doesn't SEEM like he feels upset at Nick's answer being a bit lackluster compared to his own, so Nick is relieved there. Not that he let's himself think too hard on why he doesn't want to see Tonic upset.

"Shoot," he replies, and while he tries to sound put out by the further questions Nick has very few actual secrets, possibly even none at all, aside from the ones that are secrets even to himself.

No, Tonic seems quite content with what he's been given. He looks up at Nick again, regarding him with neutral curiosity.

"Does it ever bother you that you don't know?" A beat, and then smiles to himself and presses a hand against his chest for drama, "I mean, I'd lose my fucking mind, but I think we're very different people."

Nick bore his teeth over the rim of his mug in an expression that would be a smile if there had been any trace of mirth to it.

"I hate it," he said easily, the casual statement completely sincere but lacking his usual attempts at venom. "Some days it's all I can think about, I hate it so much. But freaking out over it isn't going to get me any answers, so I try to just ... live with it in the meantime."

And running off half-cocked wouldn't help either. Patience and diligence, those would get him answers, if there were any to get.

Tonic laughs again.

The trick seems to be to surprise him. The unexpected apparently cuts right into his sense of humor. He ends hunched over the table again, rubbing at the corner of his closed, scarred-up eye.

"I stand corrected. Thank you for telling me."

Oh, he's very pleased by this. He grins despite himself, knowing full well that it isn't socially acceptable to be so happy about someone revealing something they utterly despise.

"You should swing by for a physical sometime. Nothing creepy, I promise--" He holds his good hand up and waves his fingers as if to display that there's nothing up his sleeve. "--And I doubt I'd solve any mysteries, but it would be beneficial to know what your baselines are in case we run into an actual emergency... Or more flesh-nesting biohazards, or whatever."

It's a completely irrational thing to be prickled up by the offer. Tonic isn't some biochemist looking to make a name for himself with some new discovery, he is a coworker and against all odds ... a friend as well.

Nick can ask for help, and Tonic will give it. It's a strange thing after a life with only one person who you could rely on, and then just yourself after their passing. He smiles, just a little, this one with feeling as small and shy as it is.

"Right, I know my heart is a little farther to the right and down from where a human heart is -" closer to where the In'æt crystals are than where humans keep their hearts "- I'd hate to get shot and have the doctor not know what's an actual lethal wound or not."

He wouldn't be surprised if Nick never takes him up on the offer. He knows how many knives he's essentially promising not to stab them with. But the offer is there, all the same, and anchored to genuinely selfless intentions.

"Oh, embarrassing for me, really." He shakes his head, "I've already learned that painkillers are basically useless on Ash, so that's something I'm working on..."

"I have trouble finding working ones too," Nick admitted, stopping just shy of admitting to his migraines.

The distrust isn't about Tonic, it's about Nick learning that it doesnt6make you weak to reach a hand out.

"Ah, then it could benefit you as well."

Tonic kind of assumes that he is distrusted, in the same way he assumes that all others are innately untrustworthy... But it doesn't bother him. That's just the way of the world. He reaches for his datapad again as if considering going back to his work, but keeps his attention on Nick just a little longer.

"Either way, as much as I love to joke about my office hours--I do mean that you can drop by whenever. I'm usually awake."

"Thank you," While the words were a struggle to get out and Nick couldn't make eye contact while he said them, there was no less sincerity for it. He was fine now, but even without his migraines he had a bit of a glass jaw and it would be a big help to have someone else assist with that instead of having to do it all himself.

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Scum & Villainy // Nick & Tonic

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