psychoshenanigans | GRATIA // PSL

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GRATIA // PSL

So, here's what Irahl knows.

He's alone in a dark, cold cave. He has most, if not all, of his gear. No one is guarding his location. As he heads away from the spot where he came to consciousness, no one tries to stop him, and no one gets in his way. The few people he finds down there seem human, and not about to approach the nearly-seven-foot man that comes stalking out of the lower tunnels. Honestly, everyone here seems a surprised and a little astonished about his... Entire scene.

There is a way up. It's a maze of twisting corridors and confusing passageways, half of which feel too small for him. It's bigger and bigger groups of people, some of which scatter like schools of fish, and some of which have to be pushed through to get anywhere. It's climbing up into streets lit with dingy lights, graffiti-covered hallways, warehouses, weird holes in stone walls that may or may not be windows. It's alarm bells, it's people yelling at each other down the street. It's just an absurd number of stairs. A couple of people make an attempt to stop him somewhere, and it goes poorly for them.

Elsewhere, events are being set in motion where Irahl cannot see. But he's on his way out.

Eventually, more people try to stop him. At the end of another long stretch of Underground city, a group of official-looking folks are putting a real effort into blocking off the obvious exit, and some of them have weapons.

Down a side alley, into another tunnel, and then the space opens up into a... Plaza, of some sort? The floor is made of stone. The buildings surrounding it are made of stone and are hard to distinguish from one another. At at least the ceiling (also made of stone) is a lot higher than before. Cavernous. There's some kind of sculpture in the middle of it, some impressive feat of geometric stonework that gives the illusion of defying gravity despite weighing literal tons.

This is where someone finally catches him. Sounds have been echoing unhelpfully down every passageway, making it hard to tell if people are coming or going - but this series of quick footsteps comes from an upward direction before someone hits the ground about five feet in front of Irahl.

His clothes are different. His hair is better-kept. Maybe if the situation wasn't quite so tense, there'd be time to see the ways in which his face is different, the way his eyes don't have quite as vicious and sharp a gleam as they used to. But whatever Irahl can take in of him, there is Robin, having hopped down from a rooftop to put himself between him and the exit again.

"...Holy shit."

Kind of weird that he looks absolutely shocked to see the person in front of him, though.

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Whatever Vincent says right before he sticks his feet back into the lake, Robin can see another smile--smaller and quieter--briefly visit Irahl's face in response. It's clear that this is a big part of the reason he'd wanted to visit a lake. It wasn't just to satisfy his own elemental inclination.

Then, he moves to momentarily take a seat on the edge of the rock near Vincent so he can work on pulling his very long legs out of his very long pants. He knows that Robin is right around here somewhere, but he specifically doesn't turn to look for him. He doesn't want to lose his nerve by confirming that Robin is watching him strip down to the black boxer-briefs that he knows he's familiar with.

"Listen for a while. Take it all in." He pauses to leave his pants on the rock with his shirt and start wading straight out into the water, reaching up to make sure that the highest band in his hair is snugged up close to the base of his skull. "Tomorrow, we'll swim when it's warm."

And before he can hear any question or protest that Vincent might have, he finally lets himself fall back and dive under the surface.

Vincent was on-board right until he realizes what Irahl just said about swimming. In surprise, he holds up a hand in concern.

"I dunno how to--" Oh, too late. He hears Irahl vanish under the water. "...Swim."

There is silence for a moment. He'll have to explain it when the guy comes back. He wiggles his feet a little, not sure what to do aside from what Irahl told him--

"Vincent," Robin suddenly says from just a couple feet away, slapping his hands down on the rock and nearly giving Vincent a heart attack, "Did you know he'd get like this out here??"

He's whispering quickly like he expects Irahl to be back any moment. Which is probably a fair assumption--people can't normally last long underwater.

"Like what?" Vincent asks, shrugging in annoyance, "What are you talking about?"

"Like that," Robin points out at the water, even though Vincent can't see it, "All... Happy."

"...Maybe? Yes?" The man shrugs even harder, "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing! That's the thing. It's..." Robin hesitates for just a moment, needing to find the right word to express what he's just seen to his friend, "It's adorable."

Adorable or not, Irahl is currently busy being swept away by memories and ancient instincts, reconnecting to all sorts of things within himself, having wordless epiphanies that he doesn't understand... it's a whole thing.

Also, he can breathe underwater.

So, they'll have a minute or two to themselves before he surfaces again.

With Irahl busy mermaiding under the lake, their conversation can continue.

"...Yeah, sure, the guy's havin' fun." Vincent shrugs, starting to frown at his friend's insistence that something is weird here, "Why are you having a problem?"

"He was never like that around me, Vince. I've never seen him smile!"

"...Yeah, well..." Vincent tilts his head up, leans back against his hands, "I wouldn't smile much if you'd kidnapped me either."

"Okay," Robin's expression turns to a frown, but he doesn't have a follow up. At least, not one that he thinks is a good idea to say.

"I mean, am I wrong?" The larger man asks.

"...No," And then Robin sighs, deflating a little against the rock. "I suppose not."

And then there is silence for a little while as they both stew on this, amidst the dying buzz of insects and the steadily setting sun.

"...I just didn't know there was anything he liked this much," Robin finally admits, looking out over the golden surface of the water, "It's good. He deserves a break."

"Yeah," Vincent agrees, quietly. "Were you two friends, kinda?"

Robin doesn't have a good answer for that. But he says the closest thing he can think of, which is, "I think so. It wasn't... It wasn't a good place for either of us."

With a small sigh, Vincent reaches over to give Robin a pat on the back. Robin looks up at the giant man, surprised.

"Relax, aight? Go have fun too." Vincent lingers a little longer than he needs to on his friend, "You've been all wound up since he got here. Just don't be a creep about it."

Incredulous as always at Vincent's kindness, Robin's mouth quirks up into a small smirk. Very nearly a smile.

"...Guess it'd be pretty silly to have dragged you both up here just to sit around and watch, huh?"

Logically, Irahl knows that he doesn't need to breathe while underwater, but his body forgets. Many instinctual things happen once he's in his element--realizing he knows how to swim even more skillfully than he'd thought, feeling energized by simply being submerged, being less bothered by the short-circuiting constantly happening in his head--but ignoring this one mortal impulse without effort is not one of them.

So, the first thing he does in the water is swim out and dive until he forces his body to remember. He propels himself down and follows the lakebottom as it deepens farther from shore, until the squeeze of pressure constricts the air out of his lungs. The stupid animal part of his brain panics for a moment, but he forces himself to hover in the cloudy silt at the bottom and relax there until it's undeniably past the point where he should be needing air.

Only then does his brain get it. Once it clicks, that's when he finally lets himself pivot around and push off from the bottom, climbing toward the light again.

He surfaces quietly, since he's in no hurry to get to the air, and he's closer to shore than might be expected from all the time spent under the water. Like a crocodile (and a certain other dragon who also likes to spend time in this lake), he remains low in the water as he silently bobs up and looks back toward the other two still on the shore.

When Irahl finally surfaces, he can catch the tail end of Vincent giving Robin another reassuring pat before trying to return to leaning back carelessly. The guy'd gotten him all tense again, but he's working on fixing it.

"S'what I'm sayin'. You're a whole..." He does stop to briefly gesture at Robin's entire scene, "I dunno what yours and his deal is, but it ain't gonna get better if you keep actin' like you expect to be bitten any second."

Robin, who is at this point draped bonelessly along the edge of Vincent's rock, spots that Irahl has popped out of the water a moment later. He lifts his head and swats at Vincent's arm to get him to stop.

"So just take it easy for a minute," Vincent continues, oblivious, "Less off-putting to be around, y'know?"

Robin smacks him again, which finally gets Vincent's attention--before Robin addresses the lurking dragon, pretending they weren't just caught talking about something important.

"So how's the water?"

Irahl clearly must have heard the tail end of the discussion--at least enough to catch Robin smacking Vincent as soon as he'd been noticed--but it turns out that he's even harder to read while creeping in the water like a snake. Unblinking and cryptic, he continues to watch for several seconds after the question is asked, before finally bobbing up out of the water enough to speak.

"Cold."

Whether he means anything by it, positive or negative, or whether it is simply a factual statement with nothing else behind it is impossible to tell.

Then, he glides lazily backwards along the surface with one push of his very long arms, his throat scales glinting like wet shells in the sun, before rolling over to dive down again.

The two of them watch (or listen) as Irahl replies and then disappears back underneath the surface of the water. There's a moment of silence as one of them spins his wheels trying to decide what that meant and what to do about it, while the other goes back to attempting some chill and quiet on his rock.

"...You have no idea what he looks like, do you," says Robin.

Vincent shrugs, "I mean, I know he's tall an' has long hair... An' scales an' stuff..."

Robin sighs very deeply at this, realizing Vincent probably wouldn't appreciate the view anyway. But he does start to take off his clothes.

"...Hey, I said no bein' a creep." Vincent accuses him, finally picking up on his vibe and pointing at the demigod without moving his head, "Remember what I said about killin' you?"

"Yeah, yeah," Robin agrees, sounding remorseful for the wrong reasons, "Best behavior. Promise."

There's another pause while Vincent begrudgingly accepts this response. Robin throws his clothes on the pile with everyone else's, including his jacket and his stupid gloves. As he wades in, Vincent has one more demand.

"Hey. Tell him I can't swim."

"Hah," Robin laughs oddly, at least attempting to loosen up, "Sure. Assuming I can catch him."

Catching him will indeed be the first challenge. It's hard to tell whether Irahl is anticipating a chase or is actually trying to get away from Robin, but either way, the dragon is much farther out into the lake than he had been by the time that Robin gets into the water.

He's still remaining beneath the surface but is gliding through the warmer and clearer water near the top of the water column. Currently, he's slowly arcing around so he can get a look back the way he came, back toward the shore, to see if Robin really is joining him in the lake as it seemed like he might.

Tek would probably be flattered to know how much he's always at the back of Robin's mind. It's one of the reasons he has yet to fully relax. He keeps worrying about what will happens when the two dragons find each other. Does he have a hope of explaining things to Irahl? Could he ever convince Tek to leave well enough alone?

Unlikely. Maybe impossible. But then, if that's true, is there much point in worrying about it? He wades into the freezing water up to about his waist. He was in a different form the last time he was here, but he tries to put it out of his mind, tipping forward to dive further into the lake.

Robin could probably come up with some clever way to catch up with Irahl quickly if he used magic, but he doesn't really want to be clever. He'll just swim his way towards him at a normal speed, and if the guy wants to move away, he can move away.

Irahl completes his arc around until he spots Robin approaching, when he then stops and hovers, neutrally buoyant despite hardly needing to tread water.

It's easier to believe that he's a century-or-two-old, down here. Even ignoring all of the silvery scales that are currently on display, the cryptic look that he continues to watch Robin with just doesn't quite read as human. The fact that he's at least supposed to be some sort of conduit of energy is also easier to tell while he's surrounded by that element. There isn't even any magic-dissolving armor to get in the way. He just feels different.

He still isn't completely comfortable anywhere in the world, (this one or any other,) but this is a little bit closer.

Robin is watched and allowed to get about half of the way to reaching him before Irahl abruptly pivots around in the water and kicks, diving down toward the bottom of the lake.

Pros: the water is pretty nice. He's always liked swimming, and being submerged in something cold sharpens him up a little. He probably has a lot of pent up energy it wouldn't be a bad thing for him to work out with a little exercise.

Cons: he does have to breathe, unlike some people. He catches Irahl darting towards the bottom of the lake but has to go up for air before he can follow. Once he's gotten a good breath in, though, he'll follow without hesitation.

With that look he'd been given, he kind of half-expects Irahl to try to kill him, but that's fine. That wouldn't be the worst thing. If he's in a lighter mood, he wouldn't mind just... Trying to chase him for a while. A stupid game, but it'd feel good to stretch and do something kind of thoughtless.

If Robin is looking for something thoughtless, he's in luck. Irahl hadn't really had a clear plan here--he hadn't even planned on jumping right into the water in the first place--and he doesn't have much of a natural penchant for play. Unlike some people, he hadn't been blessed with a wealth of siblings growing up. All he really knows how to do is overly-violent roughhousing.

So, in this case, a fun game of chase and an attempted drowning might end up being the same thing.

For now, he's following the instinct to dive, propelling himself down toward the tall aquatic weeds and whatever sunken things they're hiding as Robin catches up.

Again, a little danger wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Everything about their relationship had been so warped and pressured that he doesn't for a second assume the two of them can just get along now that they're out. Not without complications.

So he follows, diving willingly down into the weeds to meet Irahl somewhere near the bottom. He makes a concerted effort to catch up, this time. He hasn't known what to say about everything that happened between them--another reason he hasn't been able to relax--but maybe it's good for them to exist near each other without words. Maybe there's a talk that can be found in their movement, their proximity. And whatever comes of it.

Until Irahl finally figures out how to escape the restrictions of his human form, this is probably the closest to being outside of a cage that he can possibly get. Even when walking around freely in the open city, he's hobbled and hidden.

Right now, he is enjoying being truly off-leash.

Down here, the water is much colder, especially in the murky shade of the lakeweed forest. As if his long braid doesn't create any drag, Irahl disappears into the plants with surprising quickness. Robin is still able to see the rough shape of him enough to and give chase and catch up, but the details of what exactly he's chasing are hard to make out.

So, when Irahl apparently finds some sunken object large enough to push off of, Robin will be surprised when he suddenly has Irahl turned around and lunging for him between the weeds.

It's hard to see down here. It's dim, it's murky. Sound doesn't mean much down here either, everything's distorted. And while he can certainly sense that Irahl is around somewhere, his presence is so much like the water around him now that it's a little hard to tell where his actual form begins and ends.

So he's looking at him, he's turned in the right direction, but it takes him too many precious seconds to realize that Irahl is suddenly speeding towards him. He tries to pivot out of the way, but he isn't nearly fast enough to get anywhere meaningful.

Robin's expression probably shouldn't be one of startled delight, but here we are.

Robin has only seen glimpses of Irahl hunting--catching a look about him when his visor is off while out on a job, or when he gets a little too enthusiastic during a sparring session. It's always brief and covered up. Even when they'd first fought in the rubble of an abandoned building, he'd been all cloak and mask.

There's nothing covering up the hunting dragon now as he pounces with a little too much speed and force through the water, latching onto his prey's shoulders a little too close to his neck.

That cryptic expression has sharpened to something intense and gleaming now. It's easy to imagine that this is the look that had been on the other side of scope when he'd pulled the trigger. That look says that he wishes his hands were fixed around Robin's throat instead of on his shoulders.

With a look like that from a man as dangerous as Irahl, what he should really do is completely disengage, not give him anything to feed off of, maybe as a show that he doesn't mean trouble.

The worst thing would be to fight him, and give him a real reason to move his hands to his throat. The temptation is very, very strong.

Instead, what ends up happening is that he grabs the other man's shoulders back. It's half to try to steady himself on something as his body is suddenly sent backwards in a totally different direction, but it ends up being sort of a mirroring of the action as he holds on, keeping them both together there.

Robin looks very alert, blinking past the water to watch the other man's face, see what might happen next.

The moment hangs and treads water with them as Robin responds with something that is right in the middle between aggression and surrender. For a second, Irahl is conflicted... but it's not the sort of conflict that involves much thought. It's more the pause of a predator trying to decide whether or not to attack something dangling in front of it.

The pause only lasts until the momentum of Irahl's lunge runs out. Then, it's time to act. And Irahl decides not to move his hands to Robin's throat despite still seeming like he wants to.

However, he does suddenly kick his legs out to shove himself forward in the water, pushing Robin down, beginning to wrestle him into the frigid water and the silt and the slime at the bottom of the lake.

It's impossible to tell by his face whether he's just playing too rough or truly intends to drown Robin.

Irahl himself might not even know the answer.

Unfortunately, now is when any sort of self-defensive instinct kicks in, when his back is being pressed into the mud. He relaxes into it, which makes him rather easy to shove down, but it's only because he's started to do the math about how much time has left before he needs to get some air. Struggling would just waste it.

He releases the other's shoulders and brings both of his hands up to grab one of the wrists clamping down on his collar. And he pauses there for just a second, really trying to look at Irahl before too much silt gets kicked up; before the man's face becomes a complete mystery.

In a way, he's trying to give Irahl the choice to either ease up or double-down. Whether or not that's clear from his intense look is another story.

Held still and close like this, both of them have a moment to get a good look at each other. Robin pale against the mud and Irahl in floating silhouette against the glare of the surface.

The look that he's fixing Robin with is similar to the cold intensity of their meeting hardly two days ago, except the threat against Robin's life isn't a bullet this time. Maybe this is a continuation, pulling the trigger in slow-motion. Maybe he'll just hold him here until he kills him a second time.

Except, there's a small shift in Irahl's expression when Robin doesn't give him anything more. As if Robin's lack of struggle suddenly pisses him off, Irahl shoves him harder against the bottom of the lake, stirring up the muck as he roughly jostles him.

Oh, okay. Robin thinks he has his answer.

His grip on Irahl loosens as he's shoved even harder into the bottom of the lake. He seems to go limp for a few seconds, maybe giving up entirely, but it's just to try to confuse or infuriate. He's hoping to distract a little.

Because the next thing he does is jolt his feet into the ground and try to push away from this situation as hard as he can, while shoving his arms between Irahl's to try and pry those hands off of him. If he can wriggle free, he'll have a shot at not maybe immediately being dragged down and drowned to death.

A cloud of cold silt blooms into the water as Robin kicks down, immediately blinding the both of them. His initial distraction also succeeds, as Irahl is in the middle of shifting mental gears around why Robin has gone limp when he suddenly shoves away from him.

For a moment, he's blind but free. He gets a good kick or two of progress through the water before he feels Irahl's reach clumsily raking for him.

The first grab is just claws scraping by and leaving dull scratches on his leg. But, it's enough to give Irahl a big hint as to where he is. The second grab latches tight around one of Robin's ankles.

It seems like a good start as he kicks free. He can't see, but he does his best to get free of the weeds and orient himself upwards.

Unlucky for him, Irahl has those freakishly long arms. He feels his ankle caught in the other's grasp and, well... He was hoping to keep this nice, but in light of his lungs starting to burn he'll have to just twist around and try to kick Irahl in the face.

Or the hand, or the arm, or a shoulder--honestly he's just kind of blindly going at it here.

Well, he does kick something. He makes contact with something solid enough to at least partially matter.

It isn't a devastating blow--not like any of the things he'd done to Irahl during their first fight that had finally staggered him--but Robin does feel his ankle slip from Irahl's grasp. So, he has either kicked something especially painful, like a face, or Irahl is going easy on him.

In either case, whether he has in fact earned his temporary freedom by getting a little bit mean, or is being toyed with by a predator, it's easy to guess that he's going to have a dragon surging through the water after him in moments.

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