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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Vincent gets his feet back on the lake floor, frowning. He can't decide if his friends are fucking with him or being deadly serious, and he doesn't like it. Robin told him some pretty wild stuff about geese.

"What, do they like... Scream or somethin'?" He cautiously asks, hunching a little.

"No, no," Robin shakes his head, doing his best to keep his spreading smirk out of his voice, "They honk."

"...They honk?" Vincent furrows his brows.

"With reckless abandon, yeah," Robin says.

While it's always fun to mess with Vincent a little, Robin's far more delighted in the fact that Irahl's contributing to this mess at all. He got to see this side of Irahl a little bit during their time in the dark, but it was usually directed at him, and often not as benign as this.

This level of camaraderie--interacting sort of laterally at the expense of their mutual friend--is apparently comfortable enough for Irahl to float around on the surface nearby without any signs of stress. He's letting his scales show, he's not subtly clamming up or acting avoidant, and there's a successful back-and-forth going on. He even takes on a correcting tone in Robin's direction.

"They also hiss."

Got to get the facts straight.

Well, he can't not glance at the man's beautiful scales... But to Robin's credit, he really is trying to behave. The glance is brief and he goes back to focusing on ruining Vincent's life instead of imagining any number of things his current company would not find particularly entertaining.

Besides, with how good a mood Irahl seems to be in, he wouldn't be surprised if the man was showing off his scales in-part to be mean to him. Stunted or not, he is a dragon.

"...Y'all sure this is a bird?" Vincent says with rising incredulity, "Sounds more like some kinda flying nightmare snake..."

That gets a hearty (though odd, in the usual way) laugh out of Robin, which also helps distract him.

"That's not a terrible way to describe them! Their necks are a bit snakelike..." Robin makes a wave with his hand that... Literally could only be for Irahl's or his own benefit, since Vincent can't see. "But snakes only bite if they have to. Geese will bite if you look at them funny."

There is something of a resemblance to a cat lounging with its stomach exposed purely as a tempting trap in the way that Irahl is lazily drifting nearby. And from their antics yesterday, Robin has a good idea of exactly what will happen if he decides to fall for it.

For now, things are peaceful, and there's a good chance that nearly committing Robin to a watery grave the day before has contributed to it.

"And they're heavy."

Just what you want in a bird that will try to drown you.

Things are peaceful for some. Vincent finally pipes up in a way other than vague complaining.

"All right, all right. I get it. I'm done with floatin', what comes after?"

Vincent is frowning, still not exactly thrilled with the idea of moving to something more advanced, but if he has to listen to his friends describe one more thing about this bird that he already thought was buck wild and kind of evil, he's going to lose it.

"Hah, getting brave now!" Robin cackles, looking to Irahl to see whatever it is he thinks is next.

Irahl has rolled over and gone back to being a crocodile low in the water during Vincent's outburst, but Robin is cheating by having eyeballs, so he can tell by the part of Irahl's face that is still visible above the waterline that he's delighted by his friend succumbing to psychological torture.

"Swimming," he answers plainly. "Underwater is easier. Got a straight shot in front of you."

No boulders or big dead logs in the immediate vicinity. Vincent is free to flounder without worrying about obstacles, for the time being.

"Ah, sensible," Robin agrees with Irahl to give validity to this rather brief instruction, and perhaps to signal that he's enjoying what's happening here. This is a game they can both play where no one gets upset. Except Vincent.

The demigod drifts back out a little bit, but he doesn't leave the scene entirely just yet. He's watching Vincent, who now has the frown of a man who'd really been hoping there was some step between floating and swimming he could coast on for a while.

"...'Kay. Simple," he says, clearly not thinking this will be simple, "Any... Tips? Like on the part where I gotta breathe?"

Ah. Robin takes this opportunity to move forward again, coming up alongside Vincent.

"Depends on how you're swimming. For now? Practice taking a breath, ducking under, propelling yourself forward a little, then coming back up for air..."

He will glance very briefly in Irahl's direction to make sure he isn't overstepping, but as a fellow air-breathing mammal, he thinks he can relate a couple things to Vincent that Irahl may not be keeping top-of-mind.

It's not in Irahl's nature to hover, nor to use more words than he deems necessary--especially for trivial matters such as breathing--so he seems perfectly content to let Robin step in and handle the minutia.

Besides, it gives him another moment to swim around. He can duck under and do a little more scouting of the vicinity to make sure that they really do have as much safe space underwater as he'd guessed.

He's trying not to get too optimistic about things, but he's already looking forward to Vincent getting the hang of things enough to swim on his own at least slightly. Teaching Vincent how to not drown is genuinely great, but he's holding out a hope of also swimming with his friend a little before the day is out.

Robin is a bit of a useless fuckup in many ways, but he can be a pretty decent teacher when he puts his mind to it. He's already taught Vincent how to use that fancy sword of his, so teaching him how to use his legs to kick himself forward isn't that far of a stretch.

With a little help from his friends, Vincent eventually gets the hang of a little basic propulsion. More importantly, he starts getting more comfortable with holding his breath, and figures out about how long he can actually stay underwater before things start getting dicey. As the day starts warming up, Vincent almost starts to enjoy himself.

Which means it's time to strike. At some point when Irahl on the surface and paying attention, Robin glides just a little further out into the lake, just after where it dips down past the point of someone Vincent's height being able to stand, and calls back to him.

"Come on out here, grab my arm. I'll show you how to tread water properly. Just be careful, there's a slight dip."

What Robin does not mention is what's growing out of that dip. Vincent, having been lulled into a false sense of security at this point, does as he's told and follows. He manages to reach Robin with a bit of halfway-competent swimming and blindly grabs onto the guy while he lets his feet sink under him.

"So how far down's the botto--" Vincent starts to ask, but he interrupts himself with a startled yelp and splashing as something slides past his foot. Absolute chaos follows as he tries to scramble up Robin to get away from it, and Robin nearly drowns himself cackling as a giant man shoves him halfway underwater in a desperate attempt to use his body like some kind of life raft.

This is a performance that Irahl had not realized he'd been waiting for. He goes quiet and floats low in the water when he realizes what's about to happen, as if he's afraid of making a sound and throwing off the chain of imminent events.

It's that bad pondweed, too... the kind that somehow feels bristly and slimy at the same time. His eyes widen subtly as the chaos unfolds, and does absolutely nothing to help his panicking friend.

In fact, he begins to glide closer, and at one point ducks below the water to see if there is any visibility underwater through the splashing. (There isn't.)

Eventually, the sight of both Vincent trying to climb out of his own doom and Robin drowning is too much. His silent delight breaks and he can't help but start chuckling.

"Is it the turtles?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Vincent shouts, quickly entering the fight response like he always does when he gets startled, "What the fuck was that!?"

Just about every bird around the lake has scattered. The yelling echoes, and Robin's grateful he's cleared a few things with the forest folk lately because otherwise they'd be swarming to this area to see what all the racket is about.

At least, Robin would be grateful were he not half-drowning. He tries to tell Vincent that it was just some lake weeds, but he's too busy laughing and coughing up water to get any words out that Vincent can comprehend. At this point he's just trying to stay above water enough to catch his breath now that there's a giant man weighing him down.

It also doesn't help that Vincent just kind of clocks him in the back of the head.

"The fuck are you laughing for!?" Vincent demands. Robin physically cannot answer until he gets his shit more together.

It's only by Irahl's incredible powers of self-control that throttles down his own chuckling to sound like he's trying to be genuinely helpful as he floats closer. He's within the danger-zone now, but he's hoping that Vincent will be too busy drowning and punching Robin to grab onto him instead.

"Want me to check?"

He knows it's just pondweed, but if Vincent wants him to check for monsters under the proverbial bed, he 'll dive down and take a look.

Finally, someone around here is being helpful. Vincent is flustered and irritated and starting to get a little embarrassed now that he's had several seconds where no one's been dragged under by a constrictor eel, so he latches onto the chance to have someone put this thing to bed.

"Please," Vincent says, finally reaching normal decibels again, "I swear if there's somethin' down there I'm gonna fuckin' flip out."

Robin, finally not being punched or shoved quite as badly, starts ferrying them towards shallower water again. It's partly so that if Vincent decides to strangle him in a minute (it's very possible), he won't drown himself doing so.

Irahl selflessly dives down to do a cursory search, but especially with how the splashing is continuing to make it pretty difficult to see anything at all, the gesture is mostly for Vincent's psychological benefit... as well as his own, in that he can deal with his urge to laugh at the other man down here where no one can see.

When he resurfaces and swims up alongside the other two again, he still has to fight some amusement off of his face so Vincent won't hear it in his voice.

"Just plants. There's a whole forest of it down there."

Now, normally, Vincent is pretty good at catching when people are fucking with him. But this is a bizarre situation with a lot of unknowns, Irahl's been very careful in covering his amusement, and Robin is such an obvious shithead that he pulls a majority of Vincent's blame here.

All that to say, with Vincent back to standing on his own two feet (and Robin next to him, finally able to catch his breath), the man lets out a big sigh of aggravation and relief.

"Plants. Great. Thanks." One might mistake this for Vincent calming down, but Irahl has seen first hand how Vincent usually gets calmer the angrier he gets. It's not entirely a surprise when he suddenly reaches over and drags Robin into an aggressive headlock.

"You little shit, did you do that on purpose!?"

Robin, who had probably done much worse things for the chance to be wrestled and bullied by a giant shirtless man, giggles with the depraved glee of someone who stopped fearing death a long time ago.

"Come on, it was funny!" He exclaims, shortly before Vincent just shoves his entire head underwater. And holds it there.

"...Whaddya think, should I drown him?" Vincent asks flatly.

Okay, now Irahl can laugh. It's that low, malicious kind, and very heartfelt. It soothes the soul to see Vincent join him in having threatened the little maniac with a watery grave.

"Tried that yesterday."

As much as he would love to watch Vincent drown his roommate, he knows Robin would probably love it, as Irahl is sure it would be much closer to what the demigod had expected tangling with him in the water yesterday would be like. Unfortunately, whatever they chose to do to him now wouldn't be as effective as they would hope. So, might as well just opt for something that would be the most cathartic for the two of them.

"Show you something fun, though. Grab his arms. Head for the shallows."

Irahl says this as he reaches down where Robin is currently being waterlogged to fish around for his feet. It's time to teach Vincent a very important skill.

Vincent probably would have been content holding Robin underwater until the guy started putting up an actual protest, but Vincent's anger is somewhat quelled by the sound of Irahl having a horribly good time. And by his proposal. And by the excuse to go back to shallow water.

Robin figures Vincent will keep him down there until he shows some signs of struggling... He's not really worried, and he's also not expecting someone to grab his ankles.

Once he's grabbed, he starts kicking a little and trying to twist his way back to getting his head above water to see what's going on--but then Vincent grabs his arms and pins them behind his back. His kinder, gentler roommate kindly lets him up for breath of air, lifting him by his folded-up arms like they're a handle.

"You good?" Vincent asks.

"...Huh?" Robin says back, confused.

"'Kay great," Vincent says, before dunking his friend back under the water and carrying him along with Irahl towards the shallower part of the lake.

If Robin is quick and manages to clear his eyes enough to get a look at Irahl's face before he's dunked again, he'll see that the dragon is smiling. It's a very content smile, but it is most definitely at Robin's expense. Hope he'd enjoyed having Irahl on his side, because the tables have abruptly turned.

He's not planning on trying to inflict any great bodily harm on him this time, though. He just wants to send him flying.

Robin likes birds, right?

As they slog their way into the rocky shallows, Irahl gives a brief explanation while Robin is still underwater.

"Got to watch the guys do this to Ratchet." Vincent has been told enough stories of Irahl's rat-eating squadmate to know the name by now. "Never got to try it myself though."

Once they're in water that Irahl judges to be shallow enough, he directs Vincent to move his grip to Robin's wrists, while he takes better hold of his ankles, and Robin will soon find himself lifted entirely out of the water as his body is strung between the two giants like a jump rope.

Irahl then begins to swing Robin back and forth, guessing that Vincent will catch on pretty quick.

"...You want to count down or should I?"

Even if he catches Irahl's smile, Robin certainly won't be above water to catch Vincent's. The man starts grinning from ear to ear, catching on very quickly to what they're about to do to his friend.

Feels right. Robin deserves it. And besides, it'd probably be good for Irahl to get the chance to huck his former jailer and captor as far as he can into a lake. Robin will survive it. If he wants to show some goodwill, Robin can start by putting up with their shenanigans.

Robin himself is still confused when he's lifted out of the lake. He's a little less confused when his entire body is suddenly part of a windup.

"Hey, wait--" He says, before being pointedly talked over by Vincent.

"Would love to. Three... Two..."

Robin's struggling is too late. Whatever he says falls on deaf ears. Vincent takes them to one and throws his friend as hard as he can into the crystalline waters beyond. Robin gets some really impressive distance before he finally lands with a massive, chaotic splash.

"...Dang, how far d'you reckon that got?"

It really is impressive. Not only is there a shocking amount of distance, (Irahl very rarely ever works in tandem with someone as strong as he is, so it's a welcome surprise,) but also the exact landing that Robin sticks is really something else. Vincent had given Robin's ragdolling body a nice lateral spin because of the strength disparity between him and Irahl, and that combined with the fact that whichever limb touches down first causes the rest of him to cartwheel over it, results in several different axes of flailing at once as he hits the lake.

If that sound alone doesn't paint Vincent a clear enough picture for Vincent, the small and delighted chuckle of surprise from Irahl must fill in a few gaps.

This has been the best day. He is in such a good mood. The first thing he answers Vincent's question with is a satisfied sigh.

"Far enough that it'll take him a minute."

Which means that Irahl has a moment to take advantage of the break. He turns to his friend.

"So, what do you think of the lake?"

This has been a pretty unusual day for Vincent, too. He's been in the forest, he's been in a lake, and the phrase "I trust him about as far as I can throw him" is now something Vincent can use very literally. It's been a new and exciting day for a man who doesn't have a lot of new or exciting days on his own.

With the two of them alone (for now), he also turns and reaches over, clapping a hand on Irahl's shoulder.

"It's a good lake. Glad you brought me." He smiles, because he really means that he's glad Irahl showed up and that he had the chance to be brought to this lake at all. He's so happy to have his friend back that he practically feels his chest swell with it. "An' I know I complained a lot, but the water ain't so bad."

Edited 2024-09-06 04:23 (UTC)

Things never go right like this. They hardly ever even go okay. Vincent's hand landing on his shoulder is another little jolt reminding him that this is reality. This is his actual present moment.

He's relieved that he's here, relieved that no one has dragged him away or taken his things, relieved to have his only friend back, relieved that Vincent actually likes this thing that he has shown him... Even though they'd talked about all of this happening someday, and Irahl had made a drunken promise or two, he hadn't thought it would actually happen. Like Vincent, the relief and whatever else comes with it is something that rises up in his chest.

It's one of those things that he doesn't know what to do with in the moment, and he certainly doesn't know what to say, so it comes out in him impulsively returning the gesture with a small pat on Vincent's back.

This went so well that Vincent hasn't even started cynically wondering when the other shoe will drop. Maybe it's because he paid his dues worrying about getting eaten by lake turtles for part of the day--or maybe it's something else. When he thinks about how happy Irahl must be, there hardly feels like there's any room in him for pessimism at all.

Maybe the two of them can just have one nice, uncomplicated day after everything they've been going through for months. Maybe they deserve at least that much.

Suddenly, these nebulous thoughts are interrupted by the realization that one, he's been standing there just kind of holding onto his friend's shoulder for what's probably a few seconds too long, and two, he... Can't remember the last time he felt this strongly about anyone. It's kind of overwhelming, actually.

"Hey, man..." He deftly redirects, moving to get his arm around both the other guy's shoulders and give him a tight, somewhat jostling hug from the side. It's to try to express some of what he's feeling, and just... Get it out of himself. While they've still got time. "You know, we aughta make it a tradition to just... Toss his stupid ass into the lake every time he comes with. Probably good for him."

Irahl is startled by the hug, and even more so by the jostling. He can't help but awkwardly tense up, but the surprised chuckle that he also can't help at least seems like a good sound.

He's bad at knowing how to be hugged, but he doesn't hate it--at least coming from Vincent.

Normally, he's better at ignoring how much he doesn't hate it. But right now, until Robin reappears and pulls his attention back where it should be, it's a little overwhelming. It's hard not to think about the fact that he's got both of Vincent's arms lassoed around him, and the fact that he smells like pondwater and sunshine.

His gaze is down as his shoulders are squeezed, mostly so that he doesn't have to see whether or not Robin has surfaced yet.

"...I bet we can get him to skip like a stone, next time."

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GRATIA // PSL

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